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SPAIN

TOUR THROUGH THE WEST

ESOPUS AND DUTCH TOUR

VOLUME III

•• •;

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THE

JOITKXALS

WASHINGTON
IRVING

( HITHKRTO UNFUBLISHKU >

EDITED BY

WILLIAM P.TRENT

AND

GEORGE S.HKLLMAN

PRINTED FOR MEMBERS QNI^T

TIE BIBLIOPHILE SOCIETY
BOSTON MCMXIX

ft*

,3,

TRAVELS IN SPAIN
[1826]

February 10th. — Friday. Leave Bordeaux at six
o'clock with Peter in diligence for Bayonne. Clear
starlight — weather mild. Towards daylight a fog
rises which lasts till midday — breakfast at Langon
two fr[ancs] fifty centimes] which is disputed by pas-
sengers. Afternoon sunny and warm — pass peas-
ants in Basque capes — pass over Landes. Postilion
refuses to go off of a walk unless conductor pays old
debt of pour-boire — pass through rough, romantic
little village of Roquefort — sup at - — , a very
clean looking town on entering — all whitewashed.
Spanish captain at table with moustache.

February llth. — Saturday. Travelled all last
night — fine starlight — at daybreak stopped at
Aix — old chateau now caserne on the river -
beautiful warm sunny morning — came in sight of
the Pyrenees — snow on the summit of some —
bright in sunshine — Landes — peasants with capes
and long locks — officer hi coupe* who had been in
America — arrive at Bayonne at one. At three
part in diligence for Madrid.

Pass thro' St. Juan de Luz — picturesque build-
ing hi Moorish style — beautiful sheet of water
like a lake — Pyrenees in distance — people this
afternoon have gay character — Basques — pretty

girls. At pass French frontier — passports

visaed — arrive at eight at Irun.1 Have to leave
trunks — too large for diligence.

Sunday, 12th. — At two o'clock leave Irun, first
taking chocolate. Three guards accompany us
running ahead — pay two pesos among them. At
daybreak find us among mountains — strong-fea-
tured country. Houses opposite large, desolate -
women in mantillas — hair plaited — houses with
enclosures — one of our fellow travellers is the
same Frenchman, the other a young Frenchman
likewise who has adopted the Span[ish] costume and
character — tickles all the women.

Stop at — - where we take coffee. Figaro
brings us to hotel where are pretty girls — long
passages. Breakfast coffee and milk — excellent
bread — one franc each — drive all day thro' a
wild mountainous country with a stream running
thro' it — villages of rugged looking houses —
men with sashes — sandals — pass mountain] of
Vergara — just before alighting to walk over it we
stop at mountain inn in small village — mules with
bells — mule with velvet side-saddles — priest walk-
ing before it — pass mountain of Vergara. Soldiers
escort us over it — wilderness of mountains — dine
at village of Vergara. Begins to rain.

[Here Irving pauses to make an amusing little
drawing of a man with a high hat, presumably one of
the characters that he had met with that day.]

After leaving Vergara the scenery becomes still
more wild and picturesque, especially after entering

1 With this town and its large custom-house we begin to en-
counter many Spanish proper names. These Irving spelled much
as he pleased, often giving them partly in French. Our plan has
been to leave the text as he wrote it wherever that has seemed possi-
ble. For example, accents are seldom added to the Spanish words;
French "St." is not changed to Spanish "San," etc. But we have
tried to leave nothing that would mislead the reader.

the province of Alava. There are beautiful wild
solitudes among the mountains with solitary build-
ings, looking as wild as the mountains themselves.
We arrive at Vitoria1 at about eight — rainy night —
put up at large hotel — Vitoria capital of Alava.
People of these mountains appear small but well
built, sinewy — lively eyes — Basque women hand-
some — men with a kind of striped stockings and

sandals — wear jackets slung over the shoulders
and turn them towards wind and weather. At
dinner had a true Spanish dish — fowl — pork —
buck — sausage, etc., altogether.

Monday, 13th. — Get up at two at night — take
chocolate — start in diligence — Figaro remains —
have two Spaniards in diligence. At Miranda we
are permitted to pass custom-house without ex-
amination, paying two francs each — cross the Ebro
and enter Old Castile — heavy rain — pass through
a wild rocky pass of Pancorbo. Mountains on which

1 This old historic town was the site of Wellington's famous
victory on June 21, 1813, over the French in the Peninsular
War.

there had fallen snow — road winds at foot of
precipices — pass thro' Corvo — poor village —
shabby houses with arms on them — Castilian
pride — men with old brown cloaks thrown round
shoulders — hidalgos — see them through gateways

— enter on plains of Castile — snow lying on them

— pass among spires of the Iberian Mountains —
plains among mountains, high and cold — but sun
comes out hot — villages — shabby houses with
arms over doors — hidalgos — plains with sheep -
muleteers — peasants all in dirty brown mantillas.

Pass in sight of Mount Oca covered with clouds

— arrive at Burgos about one — buildings with long
galleries — moresques — streets spacious — idle —
houses with grated window between small windows

— great doors — men lounging about in great brown
mantles — woman in scarlet at grate of window —
lower part of houses dirty and desolate for miles —
huge rambling inns — with bedroom within bed-
room— no fireplaces — braziers under the table —
mats on the floor.

Women — long, brown, handsome faces — long
plaited braids of hair.

Cathedral of Burgos — rich tower — interior —
great expense of workmanship — choir surrounded
by brass grating — tombs of saints — statues ly-
ing in odour of sanctity — one in right-hand chapel
under picture of Virgin and child by Murillo. Old
verger a sacristan whose cough resounds through the
cathedral — rich carving round the choir — our
Saviour's history — figure in red — clock strikes the
hour — several buildings in ruins — fine guard —
two bridges — curious gateway.

After leaving Burgos we travel over the great
dreary plain of Castile — villages dismal dirt holes

— arrive for the night at hotel at village of Lerma -
great stable full of mules and horses.

Kitchen — fireplace on a raised platform of brick
in centre of the room — a huge funnel above it for
chimney — benches round it where travellers sit —
lamp hangs hitched to a cord — half a kid turning
on spit, other half boiling — supped on kid, also old
fowl well blackened in cooking — wine in a pitcher
- violet coloured and an excellent conserve.

Slept four in a room — were awakened at twelve
to resume our journey — chocolate served, of
course.

Tuesday, 14th. — At daybreak passed Aranda
del Duero — country arid and dismal — at next
post wound up mountains — bleak and barren -
foggy. Breakfast at — — a miserable inn — chim-
ney a square room the walls of which verge
to a narrow aperture whence the smoke escapes
and light enters so that the kitchen may be called
all chimney — fire on round platform of brick with
benches round — chimney hung around with sau-
sages and dried meat.

Our conductor or conde or mayoral dressed in
brown jacket with collar of red, blue, and yellow
patches and similar patches on the sleeves — sheep-
skin trousers and fur cap.

Cross the mountains of Somosierra the confines
of Old and New Castile — a long pass among
brown mountains some cov[ere]d with snow — here
Napoleon I and his army were almost driven back
by a storm — at Somosierra peasant girls come
around us with little reliques begging charity —
por el buen Dios — one a very pretty brunette. The
passes of these mount[ain]s overlook great tracts of
arid country — brown — with groups of muleteers

winding along the roads — Castilian seated on his
mule with his great wrap and mantle flowing round
him — his montero cap and his swarthy face looks
with vast hauteur on all the world.

Fine look out Somosierra towards New Cas-
tile — mount[ain]s of fine brown and black tint, some
scantily wooded — others with snow — clouds —
mist. Pass Buitrago — miserable town with old

ragged walls. Arrive at six at . Officer on

horseback, preceded by foot soldier, arrives — horse-
man in brown mantle rides up and rides into the
lower story of the house — fine long-limbed muscu-
lar fellow with leather gaiters — spurs — sash —
round hat — short jacket — throws of[f] his brown
mantle.

While at supper a soldier enters our room —
swarthy, meagre, with his arm in a sling — inquires
whether we want an escort in the morning. We
agree to give four dollars for four soldiers to accom-
pany us a league and a half thro' a dangerous part
of the road — the first stage.

Go to bed between eight and nine — sleep well
(the sleeping rooms very tolerable). Start at four
in the morning of

Wednesday, 15th. — After having taken chocolate.
Misty morning — soldiers run ahead of carriage
— wild looking mountain scenery. As the day
breaks we leave mountains and come into naked
country. Change horses and take chocolate at .

Arrive at Madrid at ten — difficulty hi getting
quarters — put up at the Fonda del Angel.

Call at Mr. Everett's — not at home — pass a
cold shivering day at my lodgings over the brazier
of coals — go to bed at nine o'clock.

February 16th. — Thursday. This morning got

our passports arranged — called on Mr. Everett at
two who took me to Mr. Rich.1 On our way met
the Marchioness de Casa Yrugo and her daughter
to whom he introduced me — Mr. Rich an American,
a book collector, showed me Ms. play of Lope de
Vega2 never published — in his own handwriting -
letter of Cortez, etc. — lent me Ms. of Las Casas'
Journal of Columbus8 — walked on the Prado with
Everett — dined at hotel — in ev[enin]g took tea at
Everetts — with Peter — Mr. Colt there.

February 17th. — Friday. After breakfast called
with Peter on Mr. Rich — hired an apartment in
his house at the rate of five dollars a week — looked
over his collection of Spanish works — met at his
house Mr. Duran, a little pale man with fur cap -
a black sheepskin jacket under a little black cloak.
He is a great collector of Spanish plays — took him
for a book dealer — found afterwards he was a man
of large fortune — son of a physician to whom the
Duchess of - - had left all the property she could
dispose of.

Dine at home — pass ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's —
present the Marchioness de Yrugo and her daughter
Narcissa — Mr. Colt, Mr. and Mrs. Everett and
niece — Miss Montgomery who is of Mr. Rich's
family — this day has been rainy and chilly.

February 18th. — Saturday. Change lodgings

1 Obadiah Rich (1777-1850), American Consul residing at
Madrid, in whose apartments Irving took rooms.

* Felix Lope de Vega Carpio (1582-1635), the most fecund of
Spanish poets. Cervantes called him "un verdadero monstruo de la
naturaleza," "a very monster of nature," because of the vast num-
ber of works he gave to the public. He was the author of more than
fourteen hundred comedies, and four hundred autos sacramentales,
or sacred dramas, such as passion and morality plays.

1 The beautiful public promenade of Madrid, which Irving else-
where describes as having " alleys of stately trees. . . . ornamented
with fine fountains and decorated with sculpture. '

for Mr. Rich's — called with Mr. Everett on the
French Ambassador, Marquis Demoustier1 — not at
home — sat some tune with the Marchioness, who
was born in N[ew] York — called at the Russian Am-
bassador Mr. d'Oubril's2 — not at home — found his
lady walking in garden and reading while her chil-
dren played — a pale but very pleasing counte-
nance. Introduced me to her niece — a charming
young person — reads English — left cards for Eng-
lish Ambassador Hon. Fred Lamb — at Mr. Ever-
ett's met the Neapolitan Ambassador the Prince
Cassaro — a handsome man, very modest.

Dined with Mr. Colt — Don Thomas Goffre, an
Irish priest there — a violent ultra — has been thirty-
five times in prison — three times condemned to
death.

February 19th. — Sunday. Wrote a little this
morning at translation of " Columbus Journals " but
could not make headway. At one o'clock Mr.
Everett calls and takes me to see Pope's nuncio,
Bishop of Tyre, a tall thin pleasant man, with face
something like Hare3 of Philadelphia — not rigid —
frequents the Duchess of Benavente's parties on
Sunday ev[enin]gs and plays cards there. Called
on Duchess of Benavente — shewn thro' suite of
six or more rooms — one a long salon richly car-
peted — then a round room beautifully furnished
— then a bedroom in blue silk with perfumes burn-
ing — the Duchess in a small boudoir — her daughter
the Marchioness Santa Cruz and her daughter

1 fiduard de Moustier (1779-1830).

2 Irving was a constant visitor at the home of the Russian
Minister, and his letters at this period contain frequent references
to this charming family with all of whose members he soon became
a great favourite.

* Robert Hare (1781-1858), a well-known American scientist.

Mademoiselle d'Alvay there. The Marchioness a
fine looking middle-aged woman — the grand-
daughter very handsome. The Duchess loves com-
pany, and to have the diplomatic corps around her
-wears a black wig, ruff, and wears wreaths of
flowers.

Left cards for the Ambassador of Naples — called
on Mr. Kenevitz — Minister of Saxe — saw him
and Mad. de Kenevitz whom I had known at
Dresden — had a beautiful child with them — called
on Mr. Dedel, the Dutch Minister — a pleasant Eng-
lish looking man — speaks English — met there the
Minister of Prussia, who knew several of my friends
in Dresden — called on the Sardinian Minister who
has a pretty little wife — dined at Mr. Everett's
with the family — Peter, Mr. Colt and Mr. Rich.

Monday, 20th. — Busy examining Ms. and works
relative to Columbus. Rec[eive]d letters from Mr.
Storrow and Susan — Mr. Mills — Payne — Strobel
and Iriarti. Mr. Colt called on us — went with
Mr. Everett and called and left cards for Minister
of Austria — charg6 d'affaires of Sweden — called
on the Baron Lieberman, Minister of Prussia — left
cards for the secretaries, etc., of English legation —
called on the Ambassador of Russia — a pleasant,
affable man — left cards for Miss Dalbriick-
dined at the Fonda St. Luis — enter thro' long
cafe" — go up a small stairs and find a dungeon-look-
ing room, where Spaniards are sitting at various
tables smoking cigars. In another room find Don
Thomas, the Irish priest, seated alone dining — we
place ourselves at table with him — after dinner he
insists on paying, saying it is a custom in Madrid,
when acquaintances meet for the first time in a
strange place he who is first there pays the bill.

That's a kind of trick often played off on travellers
in strange cities — seeing an acquaintance enter
cafe" — they pay his am[oun]t without his knowing
who did it. Afterwards take coffee in the coffee
room — accosted by a sturdy beggar who says he had
fought for the royal cause, that the priests above
all ought to befriend him — Don Thomas has him
turned out of cafe — the persons hi the caf 4 eye
Don Thomas suspiciously — pass ev[enin]g at Mr.
Rich's — the Miss — - there.

Tuesday, 21st. — Called this morn'g on Sigr.
Navarette, Secretary to the Academy of History.
Showed me the work concerning Columbus' voyage,
etc. — left card for French Ambassador and suite.
The Prince of Cassaro (Neapolitan Minister) and
Count Marguerita,1 charge d'affaires of Sardinia, called
on me. Cards left by others of the diplomatique
corps. Walked with Mr. and Mrs. Everett on the
Prado — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Mr. Colt there
— Marchioness de Casa Yrugo and her daughter
Narcissa came in.

Wednesday, 22d. — Looked over Mss. in Mr.
Rich's library. Bought hat — six dollars — walked
with Mr. Ryan to see the King's Palace, etc. — dined
with Peter at Fonda St. Luis — passed ev[enin]g at
Mr. Rich's — Mrs. McKay and her step-daughter
there and a Spanish officer of Marines — a great
talker — weather fine — cloudless — hot in sun tho'
chilly in our lodgings.

Thursday, 23d. — Wrote to Leslie — drew on Mr.
Wiggin for fifty pounds — called with Mr. Everett
on the Duke de Infantado. A thin, withered man,

1 Irving seems to give the French form of a name which was
probably "Margarita" (i.e., pearl), or some variant of this word.
See entry for March 5.

very polite — amiable and Everett says honorable

- afterwards left cards at Duke of Berwick's and
— , the Master of Ceremonies — ev[enin]g at Mr.

Rich's — Marchioness de Casa Yrugo and her
daughter there.

Friday, 24th. — Felt good for nothing — walked
in the Retiro — fine view of dist[ant] mountains.
Sun very warm. Went with the Dalbriicks to see
the Casino of the Queen — called to see the collec-
tion of paintings of a prince lately deceased — dined
at Fonda St. Luis — eight francs — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Rich's — Mr. Colt there.

February 25th. — Saturday. Wrote to Mr. Stor-
row — Susan and Payne — sent letters by French
Ambassador's cousin — dined at home — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Everett's.

Sunday, 26th. — Read in Bouterweck — walked
with Peter in the Retiro — talked of story on a
subject taken from "El Cond6 Lucanor"1 — weather
clear and beautiful — snowy mountains of the
Guadarrama2 — dined at home — ev[enin]g took tea
with the Rich's.

Monday, 27th. — Rec[eive]d letter from Payne
communicating the success of " Rougemont" — wrote
to Mr. Johnston and to Payne — walked in Retiro

- delicious weather — rec[eive]d Eng[lish] news-
papers from Mr. Ryan — dined at home — took
tea at Mr. Rich's — Mr. Colt there.

Tuesday, 28th. — Mr. Ryan called and left news-
papers — read all the morn'g in Bouterweck —
dined at home — ev[enin]g took tea at Mr. Rich's
— Sir Paul Bagot and a young Englishman there

1 " The Count of Lucanor," by Pedro Calder6n de la Barca (1600-
1681), one of the most notable of the Spanish dramatists.

1 The Sierra de Guadarrama, on the southern slopes of which
the province of Madrid is situated.

and an Am[erican] lady and her daughter from Se-
ville. Sir Paul gave account of his travelling on
horseback in Estremadura with a companion —
in quest of copper mines — lost his way and after
several days' travelling found himself not more than
sixty miles from Seville from whence he had started.

At quarter-past eight went to Mr. d'Oubril's, the
Russian Minister — Mad. d'Oubril, her niece, the
Baron Meyerdorff, Counsellor of the legation, Count
Panin, the Secretary — the ladies working at a
table — pretty children — visitors in course of ev[e-
ninjg — the Duke of Berwick who is a descend[an]t
from the pretender and calls himself a Stuart.

General , a Spanish grandee (a little man), and

his son — stay till quarter past eleven.

March 1 . — Wednesday. Read in Bouterweck —
called on Mr. Ryan — saw Mrs. R. and sister —
walk on Prado and out of the gate — dined at home

— ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — Marchioness d' Yrugo
and daughter and Mr. Rich and ladies there.

Thursday, 2d. — Read Bouterweck, etc. — ev[e-
nin]g at Mr. Rich's — Mr. Ryan and family there.

Friday, 8. — Passed morning in the garden of the
Retire reading La Huerta's Essay — lovely weather

— warm — almond trees in blossom — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Rich's — Marchioness d'Yrugo there.

Saturday, 4th. — Read in Aristotle — visited the
gallery of paintings. Our trunks arrive from Irun -
carriage eight dollars — passed ev[enin]g at Baron

de Kenevitz's — the Count , Baron Meyerdorff

and General there.

March 5th. — Sunday. All day studying Aris-
totle's Poetics — dined at Mr. Everett's with Peter,
en familk — ev[enin]g at a soiree at the Marchioness
de Casa Yrugo — met there the Prussian Minister

- the Sardinian charge* d'affaires (Count Solar de
la Marguerita) and his lady — Mr. O'Shay1 and
family — etc.

Monday, 6th. — Finished Aristotle's Poetics -
rec[eive]d letter from Mills — dined with Peter
and Colt at table d'hdte — three fr[ancs] — met Sir
Paul Bagot and Mr. Barrett there — ev[enin]g at
Marquis Demoustier — French Minister — with Mr.
and Mrs. Everett — met there Mr. and Mrs. Dedel

- the Prussian] Minister — Mons. de Kenevitz -
Mr. Beauressaire — walk home at night — streets
dimly lighted — long, obscure entrances to houses —
etc.

Tuesday, 7th. — Read SchlegeFs Remarks on Span-
[ish] poet[ry]. The Russ[ian] Minister called and in-
vited me to dine with him on Thursday — walked
to the palace — dined at home — walked in ev[enin]g
on Retire — delicious weather — the walks crowded
— ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Marchioness d'Yrugo
there and her daughter.

Wednesday, 8th. — Read a little, but felt unfit for
any occupation — walked in the Retire — warm
weather — reposed on grass in shade of an almond
tree — full of blossoms and swarming with bees —
read — dined at home — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's —
Mrs. O'Shay, Mrs. Ryan and sister, etc., etc., there.

Left cards for Dutch Minister — read Marmontel's
"Critical Remarks" till midnight.

March 9th. — Thursday. Read in Sarmiento2 —
received letters from Payne, enclosing one from E. I.
and another from Medwin. That of E. I. full of

1 In the home of this Madrid family — really O'Shea — Irving
became a constant visitor.

2 Friar Martin Sarmiento. a Benedictine monk and famous man
of letters (1692-1770), born in Segovia.

gratifying intelligence — dined at Russian Minister's

— present, Baron Kenevitz — Mr. Everett — Mr.
Stanhope — Baron Meyerdorff — Mr. Beauressaire

— Count Panin — ev[enin]g at a concert at Don
Sidonio's.

Friday, 10th. — Read in Sarmiento — went this
morn'g with Mr. and Mrs. Everett — Miss Everett

— Mr. Rich and Peter to see the Royal palace -
King's Dispecho, or Cabinet — books — military
affairs of Spain. The Visions of the Most Holy
St. Bridget.

Queen's private apartments — piano — basket
with music and books — the latter La Escala de la
Cruz — Infanta's apartment — bookcase full of
religious books — visit Mr. Lopes' x estudio — the
painter to the king — a man rather vain and talka-
tive— dined at Mr. Ryan's — Mr. Cook and Mr.
Colt there.

March llth. — Saturday. Read in Velasquez —
History of Spanish poetry — felt very much de-
pressed— visited the Museum of Paintings — met
the Everetts there — left cards for Count and
Countess de Solar — dined at home — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Everett's — French secretary of legation there,
spoke of exhausted state of treasury — troops un-
paid — Duke and Inf [anta] had applied to French
[minister] for troops to send to frontier. His own
were unpaid and disaffected — did not dare to send
them. Yet talked of sending 100,000 men to Amer-
ica2 — nobody about the king dares to tell him the
truth.

1 The distinguished Spanish painter, Vicente L6pez y Portafia
(1772-1850).

2 Spanish power was destroyed in South America by 1825, the
King at that time being Ferdinand VII, and the Queen, his third
wife, Marie Amelie of Saxony,

Thermom[eter] this day sixty-five.

Sunday, 12th. — After breakfast walk on Prado —
Inspection of Swiss guards — walk in Retire —
write this day to Mills and Leslie — Peter writes to
Mrs. Van Wart — send letters by Mr. Barrett who
goes with courier — dine with Mr. Rich and Peter
at a restaurateur's — walk in Retiro — full of peo-
ple — ev[enin]g at home — very heavy and sleepy.

Monday, 13th. — Receive letter from Strobel,
enclosing one from Sullivan and in the ev[enin]g one
from Leslie — write to Strobel and Sullivan — walk
outside of the walls — ev[enin]g take tea at Mr.
Everett's.

March 14th. — Friday. Read in Mariana's his-
t[ory] — accomp[an]y the Everetts and Peter to the
Academy — a superb painting by Murillo on a
nauseous subject — Queen Isabella washing the
sores of mendicants — two fine paintings by him,
"The Dreams" of a nobleman and his wife about
founding St. Peter's at Rome — several superb
Titians in a private chamber and a portrait full
length of Napoleon — dined at home — ev[enin]g at
the Russ[ian] Minister's — Mr. Lievermann there.

Wednesday, 15th. — Much depressed — wrote
letters by the French courier to E. Irving and Mr.
Storrow and by the English courier to Leslie —
dined at home — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Mrs.
Ryan and her sister there.

Thursday, 16th. — Weary and out of order -
walked out of the gate towards the meadow —
dined at home — this day the king arrived in town

— walked after dinner to the palace to see the troops

— ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's with Peter.

Friday, 17th. — Walked in Retiro — read Moya
y Contreras — dined at home — ev[enin]g at Mr.

Dedel's, the Dutch Minister — Count Donloff, sec-
retary of Prussian Legation there.

Saturday, 18th. — Commenced lessons in Spanish
at half-past ten — went to court with Mr. Everett —
there was a Besamanos1 in honour of Queen's Saint's
day — St. Joseph — was presented to the king —
Queen — Don Carlos and Don Francisco. Intro-
duced likewise to Mr. Lamb — ev[enin]g walked in
Retiro — met the Everetts there — took tea with
the Riches.

March 19th. — Sunday. Called after breakfast
on Colt — in course of day called on the Ryans —
left cards at Sig'r Solanes' — dined at Mr. Ryan's -
Mr. Colt and Julian Rich there — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Everett's, with the Riches — exceedingly list-
less and dispirited part of the day.

Monday, 20th. — Rec[eive]d letters from Mrs.
Johnston — Bordeaux — and Peter rec[eive]d one
from Beasley — at half-past twelve o'clock walked
out with Peter — went thro' by-streets past the

convent of . A number of muleteers were

teasing two girls — chasing them — throwing stones
at them. One overtook one of the girls and was pull-
ing her about rather rudely when a young soldier
(who perhaps was her cher ami) came up, drew his
sabre and struck the muleteer in the head. The
latter drew off, and taking off his hat and putting
his hand to his head, found by the blood on it that
he was wounded. The moment he saw the blood he
began to howl. His companions came up furious.
A soldier on duty with a musket and bayonet ap-
proached — the soldier who had wounded the mule-

1 I. e., hand-kissing, a grand ceremony, in which all the nobility,
clergy, military, and other people of high rank kiss the hands of the
Queen and royal family.

teer scampered. A companion of his kept the mule-
teers in check and covered his retreat. A muleteer
in revenge attacked the other girl. I pushed him
back. He was about to attack me when the young
soldier's companion stepped in in my defence. The
soldier on duty finally interfered and ordered back
the muleteers and we continued our walk.

Went out by the gate of Atocha and along the
canal to the bridge of Segovia — then returned
home thro' the city — dined at home — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Rich's — Mr. Colt, Mrs. O'Shay and Miss
Montgomery] there.

Tuesday, 21st. — Walked in Retire with my Span-
ish master — read some of Molina's plays — dined
at home — passed ev[enin]g at home.

Wednesday, 22d. — Walked to palace, with my
Sp[a]n[ish] master — read plays of Molina — Mr.
Ryan called on us and Mr. Colt — walk with them
to Puerta del Sol and afterwards visited museum —
dined at home — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Mar-
chioness d'Yrugo and Narcissa there — afterwards
went to Mr. Everett's.

March 23d. — Thursday. At chapel this morn'g
in the palace — High mass by the Pope's nuncio -
king and princes and all the court — afterwards
the king washed the feet of thirteen poor persons —
served them at table and gave them each a piece of
cloth and linen.1

In the afternoon king and queen and princes
walked thro' the city visiting churches — were fol-
lowed by military.

1 The religious ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church were
still celebrated in Spain with all the pomp and glory of the Middle
Ages. Processions of priests and friars, during which the noise and
bustle of the city suddenly ceased, were an every-day occurrence,
and, as we see, even Royalty took its part in the celebrations.

Dined at Mr. Ryan's — present Mr. , Mr.

Mr. Colt and Peter. This day rec[eive]d a

letter from Payne giving account of his play being
withdrawn.

Friday, 24th. — Good Friday — and as bad a
day as could well be — cloudy — cold — harsh
and windy — everybody depressed — called at Mr.
Everett's in the course of the rnorn'g — the streets
silent — no bell rings — no carriage to be seen —
only here and there a muleteer — the sentinels on
duty with reversed arms — the churches shut —
the very beggars seem to have disappeared]. Felt
uncommonly comfortless and depressed — took tea
at Mr. Rich's — Mr. Colt there — went to bed at
half-past eight and extinguished the day as soon as
possible.

Saturday, 25th. — Wrote a little at life of " Co-
lumbus" — great ringing of bells in commemoration
of Resurrection — dined at home — Mr. Barrett
called — passed ev[enin]g at home.

Sunday, 26th. — A chilly uncomfortable day —
could not keep myself warm in the house nor apply
myself to anything — rewrote letter to Mills —
Smith arrived — dined at Mr. Everett's — Mr.
Smith, Mr. Rich, Mr. Ryan and Peter there.

Monday, 27th. — Rewrote article ab[out] "Colum-
bus" — rec[eive]d letters from H. Van Wart and from
Henry — Mr. Balmaseda called on me and told me
my bill on Mr. T. Wiggins for fifty pounds had not
been accepted for want of advice — wrote to Mr.
Wiggins by this evening's post advising him and
requesting him to pay the bill in time — Smith
dined with us — in the ev[enin]g Marchioness de
Yrugo and Mr. Colt came in — went to bed at half-
past eight.

Tuesday, 28th. — Called with Mr. Rich on Mr.
Wiseman, Banker — arranged to draw on Mr.
Storrow — Mr. W. offered me every accommoda-
tion in my money matters — called with Mr. Rich
and one of the Mr. Wisemans on Don - - Ber-
mudoz, an old gent[leman] who had written lives
of the Spanish painters — which has been translated
into Italian — has an Ms. "History of Painters and
Paintings" in several vol[ume]s and another of "An-
tiquities of Spain" — he is still busy — is very old
-very respectable — well dressed in black — hair
white.

Called at Mr. Balmaseda's to draw on Mr. Wise-
man but he was not at home — in ev[enin]g he
wrote me a note telling me the affair of the Dr[a]ft
on Mr. Wiggin would be settled to my convenience
- ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Mrs. O'Shay and Miss
Montgomery] there.

March 29th. — Wednesday. Called on Mr.
Everett, not at home — on Mrs. Ryan — walked
on Prado — called on Smith — read and took
Spanish lesson — went to French Ambassador to
dinner at six — the company were already at table,
so I retired without going in — passed ev[enin]g at
home.

Thursday, 80th. — Wrote at life of "Columb[us]."
Drew bill on Mr. Storrow at thirty days sight for
2,500 francs in favour of Mr. Wiseman — wrote to
Mr. S[torrow] advising him of the same — called
with Mr. Rich at the Royal Lithographic printing
office — saw them print a portrait of Olivarez —
called on Marchioness Desmoustier to make my
excuses for not being at dinner there — passed a
very pleasant hour in conversation with her — a
French general there — walked after dinner on the

Retire with Peter — beautiful afternoon — saw the
king, queen, and princes driving up and down the
Prado — ev[enin]g Mr. Colt and Mr. Smith took
tea at Mr. Rich's.

Friday, 81st. — Wrote at life of "Columbus" —
dined at home — ev[enin]g walk in Retiro — met
Mrs. O'Shay and Miss Montg[omer]y, who return
and pass ev[enin]g at Mrs. Rich's — the Ryans,
O'Shays and Mr. Smith there.

April 1st. — Saturday. Busy all the morn'g at
"Columbus" — call with Smith at Marchioness
d'Yrugo — dined at home — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ever-
ett's with Mr. and Mrs. Rich.

Sunday, 2d. — Wrote at "Columbus " — walked to
Convent of Franciscan's to see a ceremony but was
too late — after dinner walked in the Retiro — beau-
tiful weather — met the Chevalier Oviedo on the
Prado — just arrived from Bordeaux — ev[enin]g
called at Russian and Dutch ministers' but they
were all going to the Duchess of Benavente's.

Monday, 3d. — My birthday — wrote a little in
the morn'g at "Columbus" — dressed and went to
the palace to witness the ceremony of the Queen's
washing the hands of poor women and serving them
at table — went with Mr. Rich to see a private
library he is about purchasing — dined at home —
took tea at Mr. Rich's.

This day Peter rec[eive]d letter from Mr. Strobel.

Tuesday, 4th. — Wroteat" Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g
walked in the Retiro — 'Mr. Colt and Mr. Smith
take tea at Mr. Rich's.

April 5th. — Wednesday. Write and read about
Columbus — guns fired to-day on account of the
birth of young Prince last night — son to Prince
Carlos — ev[enin]g walked in Retiro with Peter —

met Mr. and Miss Everett and walked with them —
soft, delightful weather — retired part of garden -
twilight — sound of bells from the city — military
music from Prado — took tea at Mrs. O'Shay's —
the Riches, d'Yrugo and Miss Montg[omer]y there

- Mrs. O'Shay lives in the Donatz palace — went
over some part of it — immense building — chapel,
etc.

Thursday, 6th. — Write at "Columbus" - ev[enin]g
at Mr. Everett's.
Friday, 7th. — Read and try to write but cannot

- dined at home — ev[enin]g walk in Retire with
Peter — met Marchioness d'Yrugo on Prado with
her daughter and Miss Rich — walk home and
take tea with them — Narcissa dances the Bolero1
for us.

Saturday, 8th. — Wrote at " Columbus " — ev[enin]g
walk in Prado — ev[enin]g — Mrs. O'Shay and Miss
Montg[omer]y.

Sunday, 9th. — Write at "Columbus" — dine at
Mrs. Everett's — present Mr. Smith, Mr. Rich and
Peter.

Mr. Wiseman called on me to-day.

Monday, 10th. — Write at "Columb[us]" — walk
in ev[enin]g in Retire — take tea at Mr. Ryan's —
the Riches, Mr. Montg[omer]y — Senora Hill, a
French lady, sings charmingly.

Tuesday, llth. — Write at " Columb[us] " — ev[e-
nin]g walk to the Palace — fine ev[enin]g — tho'
showers.

Wednesday, 12th. — Write all day at Columbus —
ev[enin]g walk in Retire — take tea at Mr. Rich's
— the O'Shays, Ryans, d'Yrugos, etc., there.

Thursday, 18th. — Wrote at "Columb[us]"

1 A favourite Spanish national dance.
21

hist[ory] — dined at home — wrote letters to Mr.
Storrow and V[an] Wart to go by Mr. Montgomery —
Peter wrote to Storrow — ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's.

Friday, 14th. — Wrote at " Columb[us] " — wrote
letter to Payne to go by Mr. Montg[omer]y — ev[e-
nin]g at Mr. Ryan's — took leave of Colt.

Saturday, 15th. — Wrote at "Columb[us]" — dine
at home — after dinner accomp[an]y Mr. Rich and
Peter to a painter's to look at some originals — a
beautiful Raphael — subject the Farnarina1 with
Nippers and teeth in her hand — a Corregio — a
fine Carravaggio — subject a party playing on
violin and guitars — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — the
O'Shays there.

April 16th. — Sunday. Morning on the Retire —
reading " Columb[us] " — beautiful weather — dine at
home — ev[enin]g at home.

Monday, 17th. — Write a little at " Columb[us] " —
read in library of Jesuits — call at Mr. Balma-
seda's and settled about draft — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Rich's — Mrs. Everett there.

Tuesday, 18th. — Wrote at " Columbfus] " — dined
at home — ev[enin]g at Fountain — take tea at Mr.
Everett's.

Wednesday, 19th. — Wrote a little at " Columb[us] "
— ev[enin]g walk in Retiro — take tea at Mr.
Rich's — Sir Paul Bagot and Mr. Barrett there.

Thursday, 20th. — Write letters to Mills, Leslie,
Newton by Mr. Rich — walked in Prado — joined
by d'Oubril and Barrett — Mr. Rich set off this
evening with John for London.

Friday, 21st. — Wrote at "Columb[us]" — dine
at home — ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's.

1 Fornarina, the beautiful model of whom Raphael was enam-
oured.

Saturday, 22d. — Wrote at " Columb[us] " -r rainy
day — dined at home — ev[enin]g at home.

Sunday, 28d. — Wrote at "Columb[us]" -rainy
day — dined with Peter at Mr. Everett's.

Monday, 24th. — Wrote at " Columb[us] " — Peter
rec[eive]d letters from Beasley and from E. I. —
dated March 14 — all well and thriving — ev[enin]g
go to Mr. d'OubriPs — met there the Prussian
minister, Dutch M[iniste]r, and lady — Count
Panin, French Secretary, etc.

Tuesday, 25th. — Write all day at " Columb[us] "
weather cool — cloudy — ev[enin]g Smith calls in

— Marchioness — write till twelve.

Wednesday, 26th. — All day writing at "Colum-
b[us]" — the Russ[ian] Minister and Mr. called

— ev[enin]g walk in the Retire — Marchioness and
Narcissa and Mrs. O'Shay and Miss Montg[omer]y
take tea with Mrs. Rich.

Thursday, 27th. — Wrote but little to-day, fre-
quently interrupted — rec[eive]d letter from Mr.
Storrow — dined at home — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's

— music — Miss Hill there.

Friday, 28th. — Write all day and till eight
o'clock in ev[enin]g at " Columb[us] " — dine at home

— ev[enin]g at Mrs. O'Shay's with the family.
Saturday, 29th. — Wrote at "Columbjus]"

dined at home — siesta — ev[enin]g at home.

Sunday, 30th. — Write all day at " Columb[us] "
ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — return and write till
twelve at night.

May 1st. — Monday. All day noting and arrang-
ing chapter for "Columb[us]" -ev[enin]g Mar-
chioness comes in — go to Mr. Everett's — cloudy
weather and cool.

Tuesday, 2d. — Make notes for "Col[umbus]" —

at half-past twelve take lunch with Mr. Everett — •
set off for [at] two for Aranjuez1 with Mr. Everett,
Mrs. E., Miss E., Mr. Smith and Peter — Aran-
juez seven leagues — arrive after six.

Wednesday, 3d. — Make notes for "Hist[ory] of
Columb[us]" — walked in Garden de la Princesa —
visited Casa del Labrador — dined at Mr. d'Oubril's,
the Russian Minister, with Mr. and Mrs. Everett, Mr.
Smith, Peter, Miss Everett, Duke of Berwick there

— after dinner drove out towards the King's Farm.
Thursday, I$i. — Visited Garden de la Isla —

write a little at "Columb[us]" — called at Mr.
d'Oubril's — dined at the inn.

Friday, 5th. — Visit gardens — ev[enin]g visit the
Royal palace — letters from P. M. Irving — write
a little at " Columbus."

Saturday, 6th. — Leave Aranjuez at eight with
Peter in diligence — arrive at Madrid at twelve —
find Mr. Montgomery arrived — ev[enin]g at home
. — Marchioness and Narcissa — the O' Shays.

May 7th. — Sunday. Write at "Columb[us]" —
dine at home — ev[enin]g at home — the Ryans here.

Monday, 8th. — Write all day at "Columb[us] " —
Mr. Everett calls — dine at home — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Everett's with Peter.

Tuesday, 9th. — Torrents of rain — write all day at
" Columb[us] " — dine at home — ev[enin]g at home

— send letter to Mr. Henry — consul at Gibraltar

— write till twelve o'clock at night.

Wednesday, 10th. — Fine weather — write all day
at "Columb[usj" — ev[enin]g went with the Riches
to Mr. Everett's.

Thursday, llth. — All day at "Columb[us]" — rainy

1 Once the seat of the Spanish court situated on the river
Tagus.

weather — letter from Nat. Johnston, dated Bor-
deaux, April 29 — Mrs. Rich receives one from Mr.
R. from Paris — ev[enin]g at Mrs. Rich's — Mar-
chioness and daughter and Miss Montg[omer]y there.

Friday, 12th. — Morn'g sketch out subject for
chapter — head weary — walk in Retiro — lie down
— after dinner resume labour and write twelve
pages — ev[enin]g at home — rainy day.

Saturday, 18th. — Write at " Columb[us] " - dine
at home — ev[enin]g Mrs. Ryan and sister — write
till twelve.

Sunday, 14th. — All day hammering at Roldan's1
negotiation with Columb[us] — getting it into
form — wearied — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's.

Monday, 15th. — Whitsuntide — rainy day — get
up early — work all day at ' ' Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g
at home.

Tuesday, 16th. — " Columb[us] " - fine weather —
evfenin]g the Ryans at Mrs. Rich's — Peter receives
letter from Mr. Storrow.

Wednesday, 17th. — " Columbfus] " - ev[enin]g at
Mr. Everett's.

Thursday, 18th. — Fine weather — " Columb[us] "
— rec[eive]d letter from Payne — write to Price,
Johnston, Marchioness of Wellesley — Mr. Rich -
ev[enin]g at Mrs. Rich's.

Friday, 19th. — Write at " Columb[us] " — at home
all day — ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — at Mrs.
Rich's — twenty pages.

Saturday, 20th. — Rise at half-past four — write
at " Columb[us] " all day — ev[enin]g Mr. Dorell an

1 This probably refers to the troubles Columbus had with
Francisco Roldan, left as alcalde on the island of Isabella, who
fomented disturbances and finally, owing to Columbus's decline in
favour at the Spanish court, secured better terms than would other-
wise have been granted.

English gent[leman] at Mrs. Rich's — write before
going to bed — twenty-nine pages.

Sunday, 21st. — Finished four voyages of " Colum-
b[us]" — ev[enin]g at Mrs. Rich's.

Monday, 22d. — Wrote episode of Anawanaba1 -
felt in little mood for work — after dinner went to
see a bull-fight — three horses killed — two wounded

— six or seven bulls killed — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Everett's.

Rec[eive]d letters to-day from Mr. Van Wart —
Mr. Rich and Mr. Henry of Gibraltar.

Tuesday, 23d. — Indisposed to work — drowsy —
wrote one page — walked in Retire — ev[enin]g at
Theatre del Principen . . .2 and Huenpedos.

Wednesday, 24th. — In Retire — ev[enin]g at
Theatre de la Cruz — modern arrang[emen]t of Lope
de Vega's "En amores no hagas yerros."3

Thursday, 25th. — All Saints' Day — grand pro-
cession — ev[enin]g at home — write.

Friday, 26th. — Retire — dine at Mr. Everett's

— ev[enin]g at Marchioness d'Yrugo's.
Saturday, 27th. — Wrote at " Columb[us] " — ev[e-

nin]g at Mrs. Rich's — en famille.

Sunday, 28th. — Write all day at " Columb[us] " —
dine at Mr. Ryan's — Mr. Vaughan there — ev[e-
nin]g at home — write at Columbus.

Monday, 29th. — All day at " Columb[us] " — from
five in morn'g until eight at night — ev[enin]g at

1 This is a puzzling entry. Possibly it may have been intended
for Anacaona, "the Golden Flower," a beautiful native of Xaragua,
who at first favoured the Spaniards, but later became estranged from
them and was executed after a massacre of the natives.

* The name of the play Irving saw is difficult to decipher. A
probable guess is that it was "Don Chico," a sainete of the early
part of the nineteenth century, and that the word in the text which
suggests huespedes, i.e., guests, may mean that Irving had taken
friends with him to the theatre.

* "In love make no slips."

Mrs. Everett's — the Ryans, O'Shays and Riches
there — return home and write a little.

Tuesday, 30th. — Rise at five — write at " Colum-
b[us] " — feel heated — weary — walk in Retire from
half-past twelve to half-past two — after dinner
siesta then write till past seven — ev[enin]g at Mrs.
Rich's — the Ryans there.

May SI st. — Wednesday. Write at " Columb[us] "

— ev[enin]g at home.

June 1st. --Thursday. Letter from Beasley —
send letters to Payne and Mrs. V. Wart — write at
early life of ' ' Columb[us] ' ' - very nervous — flushed

— not capable of much work — ev[enin]g at Mrs.
Everett's — this day Mr. Wiseman called.

Friday, 2d. — All morn'g making notes out of
"History of Arragon," etc. — sound sleep of three
or four hours after dinner, a great conqueror of the
nerves — ev[enin]g Theatre de la Cruz — play "Un
amo desp[iadado] de la boda" - very good — Antin
Beaux excellent — Las Astuccas Seguidas — this
day gave Mr. Rich a draft on Mr. Wiseman for
five hundred francs.

Saturday, 3d. — Write at "Columb[us] " all morn'g

— sleep soundly in afternoon — ev[enin]g at Mrs.
Rich's — write till near twelve.

Sunday, J^ih. — Write at "Columb[us]" — ev[e-
nin]g at Mr. Ryan's — write on my return home till
quarter-past twelve.

Monday, 5th. — Write a little at " Columb[us] " —
go to bull-fight — receive letter from Storrow and
family — ev[enin]g at home — Ryans here.

Tuesday, 6th. — All day write at "Columb[us] " —
ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — this day Mrs. Rich's
bro[ug]ht to bed of a son.

Wednesday, 7th. — This morn'g wrote a little at

" Columb[us] " but with great difficulty — at twelve
went to Retire — lay under trees — ev[enin]g at
Theatre de la Cruz.

Thursday, 8th. — Write a little at " Columb[us] " -
but with difficulty — write hi ev[ening] in Mr.
Montgomery] 's letter to Rich — ev[enin]g at Mrs.
Rich's — tell story of .

Friday, 9th. — Write a little at " Columb[us] " -
call at Mr. Everett's — ev[enin]g walk in Retiro —
garden.

Saturday, 10th. — Write little at "Columb[us] " -
ev[enin]g at Theatre de la Cruz — "El cafe*," and
"Los dos viejos extravagantes" x — Mr. Everett
and Mr. Smith there.

Sunday, llth. — Write at " Columb[us] " — but not
very much — mechanical work — dine at Mr. Ever-
ett's — Mr. Smith and Peter there.

June 12th. — Monday. Write at " Columb[us] " —
till eleven — went to Retiro — in the course of the
day wrote letters to the Storrow family — ev[enin]g
at Mrs. Rich's — Miss Montgfonler]y there — told
story of Pizzaro — weather continues very moderate
and showery.

Tuesday, 13th. — Passed part of morn'g in Retiro
— weary and heavy — ev[enin]g at Theatre de la
Cruz — Don Gil de las Calzas Verdes — the Majo
Scrupulosa — very well entertained — rec[eive]d
letter and book from Countess of Granard.

Wednesday, 14th. — All the morn'g in Retiro —
studying — ev[enin]g at home — Mr. Everett and
Mr. Smith call — first put on summer clothes.

Thursday, 15th. — Studied all day — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Everett's — weather begins to be warm.

1 "The two old extravagant people." The play has not been
identified.

Friday, 16th. — Studying all day — ev[enin]g walk
in the Retire — meet Mr. Everett — afterwards Mr.
Ryan — ev[enin]g at home — Ryan there — beau-
tiful moonlight — warm but pleasant weather.

Saturday, 17th. — 'Studying all day — ev[enin]g
at home — get letter this day from Price — get
twenty pounds from Mr. Wiseman.

Sunday, 18th. — Cladiere1 — receive letter from
Mr. Okell — ev[enin]g at home — Mr. Montgomery]
arrives from London.

June 19th. — Monday. Wrote and studied at
" Columb[us] " - at five o'clock went to bull fight *—
eve[nin]g at Mr. Everett's — beautiful weather -
hot at midday — delightful morn'gs and ev[enin]gs
- full moon.

Tuesday, 20th. — Notes out of "Cladiere," etc. -
ev[enin]g at home.

Wednesday, 21st. — Reading "Navarette" all the
morn'g — ev[enin]g at Theatre de la Cruz with the
Riches — "El Castigo de la Miseria," poor story, a
very farcical and whimsical play and some of the
characters well played — " Saynette " — "La Prueba
dela ."

Thursday, 22d. — Letter from Mills — read in
' ' Navarette ' ' - make notes, etc. — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Ryan's.

Friday, 23d. — Out of order, with a cold — walk
in Retiro — eve[nin]g at Mr. Everett's.

Saturday, 24th. — Wrote a little at notes on
" Columb[us] " - Pierre M. Irving arrived — passed
greater part of the day talking with him — strolling
the Prado, etc. — ev[enin]g at a ball at French Am-

1 We cannot explain this entry, except by supposing that Irving
was making extracts from the French historian, Jean Joseph Cladiere
(165&-1720).

bassador's — Duke de Ranseur there, on his way to
Portugal as minister.

June 25. — Sunday. Read and made a few notes
- ev[enin]g walked on Prado — met Mr. and Miss
Frizel who returned with me and passed ev[enin]g
at Mrs. Rich's.

Monday, 26th. — To see the toros with the Mont-
gomery's and Don .

Little round-bellied Spanish marquis with us —
a battered rake of sixty — as round as a pumpkin
yet pale and withered in the face — his plan of
amusement for the day — to the bull-fight in the
morning — then to dine at a Fonda — to the bull-
fight in the evening — then to the theatre — then
to have a girl for the night — Pierre dined with us
— ev[enin]g visited the Russian Minister's.

Tuesday, 27th. — Pierre with us — in the ev[enin]g
went with him to Mr. Everett's — Mr. Sandt there.

Wednesday, 28th. — In the morning went with
Pierre — in ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's — Mr. Frizzel
there and the Montgomeries — have had no dis-
position to write for several days past.

June 29th. — Thursday. Went to court with Mr.
Everett — news of Emperor of Brazil having sent
Constitution to Portugal1 — Pierre rec[eive]d letters
from home — Peter and Pierre wrote to Mr. Stor-
row, E. I., Beasley, etc. — ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's
with the Riches — cannot write.

Friday, 30th. — All day make notes and extracts
for "Columb[us]" — ev[enin]g walk in Retiro with
the Rich family — afterwards go to Mr. Ryan's.

1 Brazil, Portugal's most important colony, had obtained com-
plete independence from her about 1823, with Don Pedro as con-
stitutional emperor. In 1826, at the death of John VI of Portugal,
Don Pedro established the basis of the present Portuguese con-
stitution.

July 1st. — Saturday. Makes notes from various
works for " Columb[us] " - ev[enin]g at home — Mr.
and Miss Frizzle, Miss Montgomery] and broth[er],
Mrs. O'Shay here.

Sunday, 2d. -- Take notes from various works —
dine at Mr. Everett's with Pierre, Peter, and Mr.
Smith — ev[enin]g at Mrs. Rich's — Marchioness
and Narcissa there.

Monday, 3d. — Visited ancient armory1 with the
Miss Montgomeries — several suits of Charles V,
one of Cortes — one of Cid — of Gonsalvo of Cor-
dova — of Ferdinand and Isabella — of El Rey Chico
of Granada.2

Visited King's library, handsomely arranged —
attendants in embroidered coats and swords.

Stables — fine cream-coloured horses — weather
excessively hot.

July 4th. — Tuesday. Visited Mr. Everett at
midday. — ev[enin]g walked on Prado — incapable
of work.

Wednesday, 5th. — Try to work but incapable —
call with Pierre on Mr. Everett and Smith for pass-
port— afternoon visit the Military Museum with
Peter and Pierre — ev[enin]g walk on Prado with
family.

Thursday, 6th. — Work a little at " Columb[us] "
— Peter receives letter from Beasley — ev[enin]g go
to Mr. Everett's with Peter and Pierre.

Friday, 7th. — Day breezy and cooler — work a
little in the morn'g — call on Mr. Wiseman about

1 The royal armory at Madrid is one of the finest in the world.

1 El Rey Chico, known as BoabdU El Chico (The Younger), or
more commonly as Chico El Zogoyby (The Unlucky), the son of an
old warrior king of Granada. The appellation of "unlucky" was
given him because of his repeated reverses in the battles that were
waged between him and his uncle to gain possession of Granada.

money arrang[emen]t — ev[enin]g walk in Retire
with Pierre and Peter — afterwards at the Russian
Minister's — Mr. Liebemann, Count Beauresaire
there — come home after eleven.

Saturday, 8th. — Drew on Mr. Storrow in favour of
Mr. Wiseman at thirty days' sight for one hundred
pounds — rec[eive]d from Mr. Wiseman 160 dollars
— wrote a little at " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g walked
on Prado with Pierre and Peter — afterwards at
Mrs. Rich's — rainy ev[enin]g.

Sunday, 9th. — Wrote letter to Storrow and Van
Wart to go by post and others to Mrs. Storrow, etc.,
to go by Pierre — in ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's with
Pierre and Peter.

Monday, 10th. — Rec[eive]d letters from Van
W[art] and Sally — disagreeable news of E. I. —
letter from Mr. Storrow — sent letters by mail to
V. Wart and Storrow — visited Armory with Pierre
and ev[enin]g at Mrs. Rich's.

July llth.— Tuesday. Wroteat "Columb[us]" —
ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's with Pierre — walked on
Prado in ev[enin]g.

July 12th. — Wrote at " Columb[us] " — got a bill
of eight pounds on Bayonne from Mr. Wiseman for
Pierre — Pierre sets off for France — ev[enin]g at
the theatre with Peter and Mr. Montgomery —
play was "El Perro del Hortelano" of Lope well
played by Baux and Cabas, indifferently by the
rest.

Thursday, 13th. — Wrote at " Columb[us] " — ev[e-
nin]g at Mr. Everett's at their new house.

Friday, 14th. — Wrote all day at " Columb[us] " —
ev[enin]g walk on Prado with family — beautiful
moonlight — tell stories in the hall.

Saturday, 15th. — Wrote all day at "Columbjus]"

— ev[enin]g at Russian Minister's — then to the
French Ambassador's — Met there several of the
diplomatic circle — Marquis de Moustier1 shews me
letters of Washington, Franklin, Napoleon, Jefferson,
etc. — return home at twelve o'clock.

Sunday, 16th. — Write at "Columb[us]" -ev[e-
nin]g go with the Riches to Mr. Everett's — Mr. -
there — a French general who is travelling to ascer-
tain the route of Hannibal.

Monday, 17th.— " Columb[us] " — hi ev[enin]g bull-
fight with Peter — walk on Prado by moonlight -
tell story of three sisters and sit by fountain.

Tuesday, 18th. — "Columb[us]" -ev[enin]g at
Opera in Marq. des Moustier's box — opera "Eliza
and Claudio" -Sig[no]r Cortesi played excellently

— (harassed this day by nervousness).
Wednesday, 19th. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at

Mr. Everett's.

Thursday, 20th. — "Columb[us] " — Peter gets let-
ter from Beasley — write and send letter to Price —
ev[enin]g walk on Prado by moonlight — receive
letter from Mr. Rich.

Friday, 21st. — "Columb[us]" — ev[ening] at Mr.
Everett's — Mr. — - there.

Saturday, 22d. — "Columb[us] " — eve[nin]g walk
in Retire and Prado with Montg[omer]y.

July 23d. — Sunday. " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Everett's — Count and Mr. Royat there

— Count told of Lattin of Madrid.

Monday, 24th. — " Columb[us] " — aft[e]r[noon] —
toros with Mr. Wiseman and Mr. - — . Scene with
Miguel, the picador, formerly liberal — ev[enin]g

1 Irving was evidently no respecter of persons. He varies the
names of his aristocratic friends with as much freedom as he dis-
plays towards the most plebeian.

tertulia1 round the fountain — Marchioness, Mr.
McDermott, etc.

Tuesday, 25th. — In morn'g visited garden near
convent of Delicias — ate fine figs — attended serv-
ice hi chapel — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at Theatre
la Cruz — play of "Entroductio" by Sameli and
Mai de Mar — both good.

Wednesday, 26th. — Wrote at " Columb[us] " — in
ev[enin]g gave first book to P. I. to look over —
ev[enin]g went with Smith and P. I. to cafe* — took
ice — afterwards to Mr. Ryan's — bro[ugh]t ladies
home from opera.

Thursday, 27th. — Disturbed at night by noises -
could not work to-day — wrote to Pierre — visited
the Everetts in ev[enin]g — weather very hot.

July 28th. — Friday. " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g
walk on Prado — met Mr. Dalbriick — afterwards
go to Russfian] Minister's — Mad. d'Oubril at home
— have long talk with her — ret[urne]d home — find
tertulia — Marchioness, etc.

Saturday, 29th. - - " Columb[us] " — even[in]g at
Mr. Ryan's and Mr. O'Shea's.

Sunday, 30th. — "Columb[us]" — ev[enin]g at
home — the Everetts — Ryans, etc.

Monday, 31st. — "Columb[us]" - ev[enin]g went
to the opera — sat in French Ambassador's box —
"Eduardo and Christino" — Cortisi played charm-
ingly — Casi sang very well — at end of first act
the Princess of Cassarolles and her family (Neapol-
itan Ambassador's lady) came in — I retired and
passed remainder of ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's — took

1 Irving himself explains the tertulia in a letter written from
Madrid in 1846 when he was American Minister to Spain. "In the
summer evenings there are groups of ladies and gentlemen seated
in chairs, and holding their tertulias, or gossiping parties, until a
late hour."

leave of Mr. Robert Montgomery, who goes to-
morrow morn'g to Alicant — rec[eive]d letter to-day
from Newton.

August 1st. — Tuesday. "Columb[us]" -ev[e-
ning] at Mr. Everett's alone — walk in garden with
Mrs. E. — report of Granada being ruined by
earthquake.

Wednesday, 2d. — "Columb[us] " - ev[enin]g call
and leave card at French Ambass[ador]'s — call at
Russian Minister's — meet family just going out -
accompany them on drive in caleche to Convent
d'Atoch — afterwards to Mr. Dedel's where I met
Marchioness Desmoustier — Consul Beauresaire,
Prussian Minister, Gen[era]l - - returned home
at twelve o'clock.

Thursday, 3d. — "Columb[us]" -ev[enin]g at
opera with Peter — "Zalmira" -Cortesi played
admirably — rec[eive]d letter to-day from Pierre.

Friday, 4th- — " Columb[us] " -could not work
well — walk in Retire with Montg[omer]y — ev[enin]g
at Everett's.

Saturday, 6th. — " Columb[us] " - ev[enin]g walk
in Retire — pass ev[enin]g at home — pass uncom-
fortable night.

Sunday, 6th. — "Columb[us]" -could not take
siesta — ev[enin]g at Everett's — Mr. Navarette

there and Count and the Ryans — uneasy

night.

Monday, 7th. — Walk at six o'clock with Peter to
Convent of Atocha — drowsy throughout the day
— do nothing — ev[ening] walk on Prado with
ladies — pay Mr. Everett.

Tuesday, 8th. — At five o'clock walk with Peter
to the Canal — write at " Columb[us] " -ev[enin]g
at home — Marchioness.

Wednesday, 9th. — Awake early — get up at half-
past four — walk with Peter to bank of river — fine
morning — return to breakfast — this morning talk
about work on " Conquest of Granada" — write at
" Columbfus] " — eve[nin]g walk with ladies of the
family and the Ryans to garden of the Delicias -
afterwards to Prado — ret[urne]d home and sit
round fountain where I tell story of West Portico.1

Thursday, 10th. — Walk at five o'clock out of gate
of Atocha and along the outside of walls of Madrid
until we enter gate of - — . Talk of work on " Con-
quest of Granada" — write a little at Columb[us]
— ev[enin]g at opera — "Barber of Seville" -Fi-
garo played spiritedly by . Casi played Rosina.

August llth. — Friday. Rise at five and walked
with Peter out of gate of St. Barbara and round the
northern part of Madrid — wrote a page or two at
" Columb[us] " — went with Smith and Peter to place
of La Celada to see execution of a man for robbing
and murder — hanged — took place at about one.
Ev[enin]g at opera with the Everetts — Peter and
Smith in French Ambassador's box — the opera —
"Barber of Seville."

Saturday, 12th. — Rise early — walk in Retiro —
"Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g walk on Prado — moon-
light — King returns at six o'clock.

Sunday, 13th. — Rise before five — walk to Con-
vent of Atocha and outside of walls to gate of
Atocha. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at the Everetts'.

Monday, 14th. — Walk in morn'g to river —
Columb[us] — ev[enin]g at home and on Prado.

Tuesday, 15th. — Walk in morn'g to gate of
Atocha — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ever-
ett's with the M[ar]ch[iones]s.

1 Not identified.

August 16th. — Wednesday. Walk in morning at
five o'clock with Peter — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g
at opera — "Barb[er] de Seville" -write to Mr.
Storrow and Pierre by courier.

Thursday, 17th. — Walk in morn'g at five —
" Columb[us] " -ev[enin]g at Russian Minister's -
then at French Ambassador's — seated hi garden by
moonlight — return home at quarter-past twelve -
write to Van Wart by post.

Friday, 18th. — Walk to Convent of Atocha -
received letter from Storrow — ev[enin]g at Mrs.
Everett's.

Saturday, 19th. — " Columb[us] " - ev[enin]g walk
on Prado.

Sunday, 20th. — " Columb[us] " -ev[enin]g at
home.

Monday, 21st. — Drew on Mr. Wiseman for $100
- " Columb[us] " -ev[enin]g at opera — "Zalmira"
— letter from Hughes to Peter.

August 22d. — Tuesday. Leave Madrid at six
in morning for St. Ildefonso — hi carriage with Mr.,
Mrs. and Miss Everett, Peter and Smith — stop at
half-past eleven at Inn in the Guadarrama Moun-
tains — lunch — hear there of three Englfish] Min-
ister's servants having been robbed — beautiful ride
thro' the mountains — thunder shower — pretty
cottages and churches in mountain valley — pickets of
soldiers — as we descend opposite side wide view over
Castile between opening of mountains — pickets
of soldiers with black horses — mules — arrive
at La Granja at dusk — put up at Fleur de Lis.

Wednesday, 23d. — Walked out with Peter before
breakfast — soldiers and music in place before pal-
ace — after breakfast walk with the Everetts on
through the gardens — the King sends to invite us

to the Queen's apartments to go thro' the garden —
go there at five — accompany the Royal family, etc.
thro' the gardens, where the waters play — Marquis

de walks with me — Prince of Hesse walks with

Royal family — one fountain throws the highest jet
in Europe.

Thursday, 24th. — After breakfast drive to
Segovia — about two leagues distant — Cathedral
beautiful — simple — solid Gothic — painted win-
dows— Everett's misunderstanding with priest
about the ladies having their heads uncovered —
visit the Alcazar1 — General who commands there
shews us thro' the place — a military college -
Commandant a son of an Irishman — beautiful
room of the throne — Tower where Gil Bias was
confined — returned to La Granja by four o'clock.

August 25th. — Friday. Morning walk in garden
" Columbfus] " - walk at midday with Mrs. Ever-
ett, Miss E. and Peter — after dinner see the waters
play — the court and all the populace in garden —
ev[enin]g at theatre — "Don Comodo, o el amigo
intima" -good.

Saturday, 26th. — Start at half-past five — drive
thro' the mountains — get among clouds — fine —
immerging into sunshine — arrive at Madrid at five
— ev[enin]g at Mrs. Rich's — the Ryans there.

Sunday, 27th. — " Columb[us] " all day — ev[e-
nin]g at Mrs. Everett's.

Monday, 28th. — "Columb[us]" — "Granada" —
ev[enin]g at home.

Tuesday, 29th. — ' ' Columbfus] ' ' — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Ryan's.

1 The Alcazar at Segovia is one of the most celebrated Moorish
palaces in Spain, and contains many art treasures, statues, and
historical relics.

Wednesday, 30th. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Everett's.

Thursday, 31st. — Write a little at " Columb[us] "
- one page at ' ' Granada. ' ' Wrote letter to Storrow,
enclosed exch[an]g[e] at sixty days, sight on E. I.
for $1,000 — in ev[enin]g went to Mr. d'Oubril's-
Count Meyerdorff and Count - - there.

September 1st. — Friday. Morning walk — " Gra-
nada" -ev[enin]g with the Montgomeries at Mr.
Everett's.

Saturday, 2d. — Weather cool — " Granada "
Mr. Hunter, King's messenger arrives with letter
from Mr. Andrews — ev[enin]g at home.

Sunday, 3d. — "Granada" - dined at Mr. Ever-
ett's with the Rich family.

Monday, 4th. — "Granada" - letter from Pierre.

Tuesday, 5th. — "Granada."

Wednesday, 6th. — "Granada."

Thursday, 7th. — "Granada."

Friday, 8th. — " Granada ' ' - ev[enin]g Theatre del
Principe — "Tellos de Moneses" -"Casa de la
Vicindad ' ' - good.

Saturday, 9th. — " Granada " — ev[enin]g — Mr.
d'Oubril's.

Sunday, 10th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g theatre
— one act of " Amar por Senas."

September llth. — Monday. Morn'g "Granada"
— bull-fight — ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's.

Tuesday, 12th. — Wrote a little at "Granada," but
very little — retouching — copied sketch of "Con-
tented Man"1 and sent it to F. Andrews for his

1 This story by Irving has to do with an old Frenchman, who,
after being ruined by the Revolution, found much happiness through-
out his years of poverty; but when, later, the major portion of his
fortune was restored to him, he lost both his philosophic point of
view and his gaiety.

Christinas work — ev[enin]g at Mr. d'Oubril's and
with them to the opera — " Eliza and Claudio."

Wednesday, 13th. — Sketched and scratched at
"Granada" — walked in Retiro — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Ryan's.

Thursday, 14-th. — "Granada" — rec[eive]d letter
from Pierre — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's — thence to
Theatre — piece of "Diablos son las mujeres."

Friday, 15th. — "Granada" — e[venin]g at Mr.
Everett's.

Saturday, 16th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g at .

Sunday, 17th. — "Granada" — evjeninjg at Mr.
d'Oubril's.

Monday, 18th. — "Granada" in the morn'g —
ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — letters from Mr. and
Mrs. Storrow and Van Wart.

Tuesday, 19th. — " Granada" — ev[enin]g at home.

Wednesday, 20th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g the-
atre — "El Socorro de los Mantos" — good.

Thursday, 21st. — "Granada" — five o'clock mor-
n'g — at twelve walk out up the fan* — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Ryan's.

Friday, 22d. — Write but little — walk with Smith
and Montg[omer]y — ev[enin]g at Mr. d'Oubril's.

Saturday, 23d. — " Granada " — at twelve go with
the ladies to Academy — ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's.

Sunday, 24-th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g Theatre
de la Cruz — play — "El Cuesto por lo bueno."

Monday, 25th. — "Granada" — bulls morn'g and
afternoon — ev[enin]g at Mr. d'Oubril's.

Tuesday, 26th. — " Granada" — walk in Retiro —
ev[enin]g at home — Colt.

Wednesday, 27th. — A little at "Granada" — walk
in morn'g in Retiro — ev[enin]g at home — the
Ryans.

September 28th. — Thursday. "Granada" -ev[e-
ninjg at Mr. Everett's with the y[oun]g ladies -
rec[eive]d $100 from Mr. Wiseman.

Friday, 29th. — "Granada" - ev[enin]g at Thea-
tre del Principe — "Huerfana de Bonville" and
Labrador.1

Saturday, SOth. — "Granada," a little — ev[enin]g
Opera — "Barb[er] of Seville."

October 1st. — Sunday. "Granada" -dined at
Mr. Everett's with Montgomery and Mr. Ryan.

Monday, 2d. — " Granada " - toros — ev[enin]g
Mr. d'Oubril's.

Tuesday, 3d. — "Columbus" and "Granada."

Wednesday, 4th. — 11 Columbus " - " Granada ' '
ev[enin]g Opera — "II Porto Abandonato."

Thursday, 5th. — " Granada ' ' — ev[enin]g at home.

Friday 6th. — "Granada" — museum — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Everett's.

Saturday, 7th. — "Granada " - ev[enin]g looked hi
at theatre — called at Mr. Ryan's — rest of ev[e-
nin]g at home — Ryans there.

Sunday, 8th. — "Granada" — dine at Mr. Ever-
ett's — French gent[leman] there from N. Orleans.

Monday, 9th. — "Granada" -toros — ev[enin]g
at Theatre — "Barb[er] of Seville."

Tuesday, 10th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g at Mr.
d'Oubril's — French Ambassador, etc., there.

Wednesday, llth. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g at
home.

Thursday, 12th. — At 9 o'clock set off with the
Everetts, Smith and Peter for Escurial2 — take

1 "The Orphan Girl of Bonville" may be the title of the first
of these plays; the second may have overtaxed our powers of de-
ciphering.

* Escurial (or Escorial), a famous monastery of New Castile, in
the province of Madrid. The Escurial, which was intended to serve

lunch at a village ravaged by the French — eat our
lunch on stones among ruins — approaching the
Escurial see Princess of Basque and courtiers on
donkeys — in ev[enin]g go with Mr. Everett to visit
the nuncio — dark passages of the Escurial — find
him in small room — recess for bed with crimson
curtain — large books on table — crimson velvet
bindings — he is in Schlafrock.1

October 18th. — Friday. Visit the Escurial — the
Sacristan Frere Solono — shews us about — a jolly
friar. In the Sacristy is the Pearl by Raphael2 and
the presentation — beautiful. In the old chapel is
a piece by Raphael — visit the Pantheon.

Library — old monk with white hair.

After Escurial visit the Principe, a pretty little
house and garden — after dinner revisit Escurial
with Prince Dolgorucki and Mr. Sandt — ev[enin]g
at theatre.

Saturday, 14th. — Besa Manos — at the Escurial

-attend court — King, Queen, Don Carlos and
Don Francisco and then* wives and Duchess of
Beyna — after court walk with Mrs. Everett and
Miss E., Peter, and Smith to King Philip's seat —
beautiful view.

Sunday, 15th. — Return to Madrid — leave the
Escurial at quarter-past seven and arrive about two
o'clock — ev[enin]g at Mrs. Ryan's with the Riches
Mad. Zannoturi there, etc.

Monday, 16th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g tertulia

as a palace, mausoleum, and monastery, is an immense building of
solid granite, and owes its origin to Philip II, who erected it in grati-
tude to his patron saint through whose aid he won the famous battle
of St. Quentin.

1 Dressing gown.

2 One of the most celebrated of Raphael's paintings represent-
ing the Holy Family.

at home — Everette, Ryans, O'Shays — receive
letter from Van W. and three from Sally.1

Tuesday, 17th. — "Granada" -ev[enin]g at Mr.
d'Oubril's — Mr. Waddington, etc., there.

Wednesday, 18th. — ' ' Granada " — ev[enin]g at
home — Mrs. O'Shea and nephew here — write till
eleven.

October 19th. — Thursday. "Granada" — dine at
Mr. Everett's — gent[leman] from New Orleans
there and Mr. Ryan.

Friday, 20th. — "Granada" -ev[enin]g at Mrs.
O'Shea's — write to Van W. by Mr. Orviette.

Saturday, 21st. — "Granada" - ev[enin]g at Mr.
Everett's — met the Riches.

Sunday, 22d. — "Granada" -after dinner sleep
-walk in Retire — full of people — ev[enin]g at
Theat[re] del Principe — "La Presumida" y "la
Hennosa" — very good.

Monday, 23d. — Cannot write — go out at nine
to Retiro to see the reserves pass accompan[ie]d by
Mr. Weeks, Mr. Ryan and Mr. Shaw of Cadiz —
Peter, Smith and myself unprovided with tickets —
do not go in — afternoon toros — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Everett's.

Tuesday, 24th. — No work — get $100 from Mr.
Wiseman — says there are about seventy-five yet
in his hands — called on Mr. Shaw, Weeks and Ryan

- dined at Mr. Ryan's — Mr. Vaughan and nephew
there — ev[enin]g went to theatre and saw "Didon"

- bad — after piece good.

Wednesday, 25th. — Mr. Rich arrived last night
— wrote letters to E. I., Storrow, Mr. Macready -
rec[eive]d letters from Newton, Pierre M. Irving,
Susan Storrow and Minny — ev[enin]g at home.
1 Irving's sister, Sarah Van Wart.
43

Thursday, 26th. — Idle day — ev[ening] at home.

Friday, 27th. — A little at "Granada" — even[in]g
at Mr. d'Oubril's.

Saturday, 28th. — Wrote a little at "Granada" —
ev[enin]g call at Mr. Everett's — no at home —
pass ev[enm]g at home.

Sunday, 29th. — "Granada" a little — dine at
Mr. Wiseman's — ev[enin]g at home.

Monday, 30th. — "Granada " - toros — ev[enin]g
at home.

Tuesday, 31st. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Everett's.

November 1 st. — Wednesday. ' 'Granada ' ' — ev[e-
nin]g at home — late in ev[enin]g wrote on "Colum-
b[us]."

Thursday, 2d. — Went hi Galera1 with the Riches

— Ryans — Smith — Montg[omer]y to the Prado

— went thro' the palace — beautiful tapestry made
at Madrid — represent [injg costumes of Spam,
etc.

November 3d. — Friday. " Granada " — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Ryan's.

Saturday, Jtfh. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g at Rus-
sian Minister's — the Pope's nuncio and the Bishop

there — afterwards the Minister of Prussia,

Mr. Stanhope, etc.

Sunday, 5th. — "Granada," a little — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Everett's — send letters to Mr. Storrow —
E. Irving, etc., by English courier to Paris.

Monday, 6th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Ryan's — Signora Corri, etc.

Tuesday, 7th. — "Granada" — Mr. Slidell arrives

— ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's.

Wednesday, 8th. — "Granada" — indisposed to
1 A sort of coach.
44

work — ev[enin]g at home — Smith and Montg[om-
er]y here.

Thursday, 9th. — "Granada " — ev[enin]g at theatre

- "Valeric " - poorly played.

Friday, 10th.- "Granada" -ev[enin]g at home

— Mr. Slidell, etc.

Saturday, llth. - "Granada" - ev[enin]g at Mar-
quis of - — , the Riches, Ryans, Mr. Slidell, Smith,
etc., etc., Mr. Navarette and family there.

Sunday, 12th. — Wrote a little at "Granada"

dined at Mr. Ryan's — Signer and Mr. -

there — ev[enin]g looked in at theatre — "Melin-
drosa" -bizarre.

Monday, 13th. — "Granada " — ev[enin]g at theatre

- "Oscar" - miserable — this day the Misses
Montgomeries, etc., depart.

Tuesday, 14th. — " Granada " — ev[enin]g called at
Mrs. Everett's — not at home — Mr. d'Oubril's
idem — visited Mr. Ryan's.

Wednesday, 16th. — "Granada" — visit new house
with Mrs. R. and Mrs. Everett — ev[enin]g the
Ryans here — afterwards go to Mr. d'Oubril's.

Thursday, 16th. — Left the house in Calle St.
Fernando and moved to - - near the gate of Santa
Barbara — wrote all day at "Granada" — ev[enin]g
called at Mr. Ryan's.

Friday, 17th. — "Granada" — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Everett's — not at home — ret[urne]d and wrote
until late at "Columb[us]."

Saturday, 18th. — Mr. Rich's family moved into
the house — write all day at "Columb[us]" -Mr.
Everett calls — ev[enin]g at Theatre de la Cruz —
"Marido de la Duchesa — excellent.

November 19th. — Sunday. Indisposed to work

— awake with slight headache — write a little at

"Columb[us]" — go with Peter to see the Novellos

— dine at Mr. Everett's — Mr. Slidell, Rich, Smith,
Peter, etc.

Monday, 20th. — "Columb[us]" all day and till
one at night — Mr. Smith and Montg[omer]y at Mr.
Rich's in the ev[enin]g.

Tuesday, 21st. — Write all day at "Columb[us]"

— ev[enin]g at Theatre del Principe for a little while

— came away soon — called at Ryan's — Mont-
g[omer]y there.

Wednesday, 22d. — Write all day at "Columb[us] "
ev[enin]g call at d'Oubril's — look in at Theatre del
Principe — see "Sainete of Don Chico" — look in
at Theatre de la Cruz — French Ambassador's] box

— Mr. d'Oubril there — Cenerentola — write to
Van Wart by courier.

Thursday, 23d. — " Columb[us] " — letter from Mr.
Storrow — the same which had been delay'd.

Friday, 24th. — "Columb[us] " all day — ev[enin]g
at theatre — "Zalmira."

Saturday, 25th. — All day "Columb[ute] " — ev[en-
in]g at home — write till near eleven.

Sunday, 26th. — Before breakfast sketch off char-
acter of "Columb[us]."

This day leave cards for Marquis — call on Count
Donoff — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — writing.

Monday, 27th. — " Columb[us] " all day — write
by mail to Van Wart — Mr. Rich wrote for
books — viz.: "Translation] of Navarette," "Chif-
ferton" l "Tales of Traveller," — theatre — part of
Washington.

Tuesday, 28th. — "Columbus" — dine at Mr.
Ryan's with Peter — ev[enin]g opera — "Barber of
Seville."

1 This seems to be the title Irving used.

Wednesday, 29th. — "Granada" -ev[enin]g at
Mr. Rich's.

Thursday, SOth. — ' ' Granada ' ' - headache — ev[e-
ninjg at Mr. Rich's.

December 1st. — Friday. "Granada" - ev[enin]g
at Mr. Ryan's.

Saturday, 2d. — "Granada."

Sunday, 3d. — " Columb[us] " — dine at Mr. Ryan's
- Mr. Vaughan and nephew.

December 4th. — Monday. " Columb[us] " — read
" Kenilworth " in ev[enin]g — call at Everett's -
not at home — letter from Mr. Guestier to Peter.

December 6th. — Tuesday. " Columb[us] " - ev[e-
ninjg at home — "Kenilworth " - draw bill on Spen-
cer to account of Van Wart, fifty pounds — receive
seventy dollars from Wiseman.

Wednesday, 6th. — " Columb[us] " - ev[enin]g
Theatre de la Cruz — "Desden con el desden."1

Thursday, 7th. — "Columb[us]."

Friday, 8th. — "Columbus."

Saturday, 9th. — "Columbfus]" — dine at Mr.
Everett's — Mr. Slidell, Rich, Smith.

Sunday, 10th. — "Columb[us]" all day and ev[e-
nin]g at home.

Monday, llth. — "Columb[us]" — Cruz.

Tuesday, 12th. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g Thea-
tre del Principe — Lo que son las mujeres — "Con-
vidando de Piedro" — ballet.

Wednesday, 13th. — " Columb[us] " — opera —
"Barb[er] of Seville."

Thursday, 14th. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g call
at Mrs. d'OubriTs — the Ryan's.

Friday, 15th. — "Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at home.

1 The full title is "El desden con el desden," t. e., "Meet disdain
with disdain," by Augustin Moreto y Cabana.

Saturday, 16th. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at
home.

Sunday, 17th. — " Columb[us] " - illustrations -
ev[enin]g at home.

Monday, 18th. — "Columb[us]",— ev[enin]g Mr.
Everett's.

Tuesday, 19th. — Called with Rich on Don An-
tonio and left card at Mr. Wiseman — "Navarette"
- not at home — work at " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g
at home.

Wednesday, 20th. — "Columb[us]" — ev[enin]g at
Mr. d'Oubril's — present the Cardinal (nuncio),

Gen[era]l , Prince Dolgorouki — French Sec-

[retarjy's.

Thursday, 21st. — " Columb[us] " — had stove put
up — ev[enin]g at Theatre de la Cruz — "Amar
por Senas."

Friday, 22d. — Went to library (shut) left card
for Slidell — called at Wiseman's — wrote at "Co-
lumb[us]" — Illustrat. — rec[eive]d letter from E.
Irving — ev[enin]g at home reading "Bracebridge
Hall" -wrote to Murray informing him of "Col-
umb[us] " being nearly ready for the press.

Saturday, 23d. -— " Columb[us] " — but little —
get $100 of Mr. Wiseman — call at Ryan's —
Smith's — ev[enin]g at Theatre of Cruz — "Barber
of Seville."

December 24th. — Sunday. Wrote a very little at
"Columb[us]" — dined at Smith's with Peter —
ev[enin]g at Theatre del Principe — extravagant and
amusing pieces.

Monday, 25th. — Christmas — made extracts con-
cerning "Prester John"1 — dined at Ryan's — pres-

1 A mythical character who was supposed in the Middle Ages to
rule over a vast region in Asia.

ent Mr. Vaughan and Sig[no]r — - of Valencia —
ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — the Riches, Smith,
Montg[omer]y there.

Tuesday, 26th. — Indisposed all day — ev[enin]g
at Theatre of the Cruz — various Christmas pieces

- house of . .

Wednesday, 27th. — " Columb[us] " - ev[enin]g at
home.

Thursday, 28th. — Wrote to Susan S[torrow] in-
capacitated to write all day — ev[enin]g at home.

Friday, 29th. — ' ' Columb [us] ' ' — ev[enin]g at home
— read'g.

December 80th. — Saturday. All day ' ' Columb [us] ' '

- eve[nin]g at home read'g.

Sunday, 31st. — "Columb [us]" -"Nevilles" —
ev[enin]g look hi at Smith's — Ryan's — return
home and write a little — but sleepy and go to bed
and so ends the year 1826 which has been a year of
the hardest application and toil of the pen I have
ever passed. I feel more satisfied however with the
manner in which I have passed it than I have been
with that of many gayer years, and close this year
of my life in better humour with myself than I have
often done.

January 1st. 1827. — Monday. Rose at six
o'clock — "Columb [us]" - called at the Marchion-
ess d' Yrugo — saw her and Narcissa — dined with
Mr. Wiseman — present Mr. - — , Mr. - — , and
Mr. - - ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's with Rich,
Montg[omer]y, Smith, Peter, Mr. Sandt there.

January 2d. — Tuesday. "Columb [us]" — [ev[e-
nin]g at home — two Eng[lish] messengers here.

Wednesday, 3d. — Wrote to Mr. Storrow and
Lady Granard — gave letters to Eng[lish] courier -
Dr. Clark of Philadelphia and Mr. Wilson of Bal-

timore arrived here — ev[enin]g at home read'g
" Carol of Licht."1

Thursday, 4th. — Wrote to Mrs. Van Wart —
Pierre M. Irving and Mills by Eng[lish] courier —
ev[enin]g at home.

January 5th. — Friday. Called on Dr. Clark, etc.
— receive letters by Engflish] courier who left this
ev[enin]g — Dr. Clark, Mr. Wilson, and Mr. Slidell
took tea with us at Mr. Rich's.

Saturday, 6th. — Incapable of writing — called at
Wiseman's — ev[enin]g at home reading Lope de
Vega.

Sunday, 7th. — Write " Island of St. Borinson " 2 —
ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's.

Monday, 8th. — Write a little at "Island of St.
Borinson" — call with the young ladies at Mrs.
Ryan's — get $100 of Mr. Wiseman — ev[enin]g at
opera — "Eliza and Claudio" — saw a Mr. Frazer
in the box of Mr. d'Oubril — parents in Lisbon. He
is a Russian prince — Consul to Lisbon.

Tuesday, 9th. — Could not work — touched a
little at the " . . . "3 — ev[enin]g opera of "Rosa
Rosa and Rosa Blanca" — afterwards went to the
d'Oubrils' — Prince Dolgorouki lent me books —
called at Everett's this morn'g.

January 10th. — Wednesday. Out of mood to
work — walked out — Smith's — read papers —
ev[enin]g at home — Mrs. O'Shea — the .

1 This is the best transcription we can make, but the entry is
unintelligible to us.

2 This seems to be the correct reading of the text. The legend
is doubtless that of the Island of St. Brandan or St. Borondon, a
subject treated by Irving in "The Phantom Island," and the piece
that follows it in the volume entitled, "Wolfert's Roost." These
papers had appeared in the Knickerbocker Magazine over the signa-
ture of " Geoffrey Crayon."

3 The text is difficult to decipher. Doubtless the reference is to
the "Island of St. Borinson" mentioned twice before.

Thursday, llth. — Ev[enin]g with Peter and Smith

— "Convidado de Piedra."

Friday, 12th. — At library — tak'g notes — ev[e-
nin]g at home.

Saturday, 18th. — Library — notes from "Ram-
usio" -ev[enin]g call Mr. Ryan's — go to theatre
- "Marcia de la Puchera."

Sunday 14th. — Read "Humboldt Americ. Tran-
sac." - dined at Mr. Ryan's — Peter, Smith, Mr.
Vaughan, Annie Rich — Theatre de la Cruz — "En
los negocios."

Monday, 1 5th. — Library — ' ' Ramusio ' ' - walk
with Slidell — dine at Mr. Everett's — Mr. Nava-
rette, Mr. Rich, Smith, Montgo[mery].

January 16th. — Tuesday. Library — make notes
from ' ' Ramusio ' ' — ev[enin]g at opera — ' ' Cene-
rentola" -get letter from Murray's agreeing to
publish "Columbus."

January 17th. — Wednesday. — Morn'g at library
making notes from "Gosselin" — St. Antonio's Day

— people with horses, etc., at convent of St. Antonio
to get blessed barley — blessed cakes of St. Antonio

— boys running about with horns — faces smeared,
etc. — ev[enin]g at Theatre de la Cruz — "Eliza
and Claudio" -see Embozado in gallery — call at
Mr. Wiseman's.

Thursday, 18th. — Could not work — Tec[eive]d
letter from Pierre, dated Paris, Jan[uar]y 6 — replied
by this ev[enin]g mail — went to theatre — "La Gal-
lega" -afterwards went to Mr. d'Oubril's — re-
turned home late — imperfect moonlight — obscure
streets — this morn'g call on Sen[or] Navarette — go
through the hydrographical establishment.

Friday, 19th. — Incapable of work — call at
Smith's — on Count Beauressaire — not at home —

on Mr. Everett — Mr. Sandt there — pay Mr. E.
twenty dollars — ev[enin]g opera — "Rosa Rosa
and Rosa Blanca" — Peter and Smith accom-
pan[ie]d me.

Saturday, 20th. — Library — notes from "Gos-
selin" — subscribed to French library — make notes
from "Malte Brun" — ev[enin]g opera — "Barber
of Seville."

January 21st. — Sunday. Called on the Count
Cortoni — saw his coadjutor there — called at Na-
varette's — not at home — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ever-
ett's with Peter — terribly nervous and low-spirited
to-day.

Monday, 22d. — This day wrote at " Columb[us] "
all day — ev[enin]g at theatre — "Nona Repentida"
by Solis from Donna Baba of Lope.

Tuesday, 23d. — "Columb[us] " — called with Mr.
Rich on Mr. Dedel — on Slidell — ev[enin]g at
home — write late at night.

Wednesday, 24th. — " Columb[us] " -early hi
morn'g — all day and late at night — ev[enin]g at
Mr. Rich's.

Thursday, 25th. — Write from two o'clock in
morn'g at "Columb[us] " all day — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Rich's — receive letter from Mr. Kenney and Mrs.
Storey — write a little before going to bed — rise a
little after two, write till daylight.

Friday, 26th. — Write all morn'g from two — call
at Navarette's — not at home — at Wiseman's —
Ryan's — got letter from the Sec[retar]y of Athe-
neum — ev[enin]g at home.

Saturday, 27th. — Rise at three — "Columb[usj "
— call at Mr. Navarette's — get Mss. — write at home
— ev[enin]g at Rich's — write from nine to one.

Sunday, 28th. — All day "Columbus" — Mr. Sli-

dell calls — ev[enin]g Mr. Everett's — Peter, Smith,

- from half-past ten till one "Columb[us]."
Monday, 29th. — M\ day " Columb[us] " -ev[e-

nin]g at Mr. Rich's — "Colum[bus] " till near twelve.

Tuesday, 30th. — "Columb[us]" early — call at

Navarette's — write — after dinner sleep two hours

- ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — write from ten to one

- awake at three — write till breakfast.
Wednesday, 81st. — Write from early three o'clock

to dinner tune — sleep two hours — write from six
till eight — pass hour and half at Rich's — write a
little but go to bed at half-past ten — wake at two

— write till breakfast tune.

February 1st. — Thursday. Write from two in
morn'g till past eleven — call at Smith's — Ryan's

— letter from V[an] W[art] and Mrs. V. — ev[enin]g
at the opera — "Tibaldo," etc.

February 2d. — Friday. Write from four o'clock
at ' ' Supp[lemen] t " - at home all day — ev[enin]g at
Rich's — Everett there and Montgfomerjy — letter
from Mills — write hi ev[enin]g till twelve o'clock.

Saturday, 3d. — Rise at four — all day writing -
ev[enin]g look in at opera — "Eliza and Claudio"

— call at Mr. Ryan's.

Sunday, 4th. — " Columb[us] " — "Story of "

- ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's with Mr. and Mrs. and
Julia Rich and Peter.

Monday, 6th. — "Story of " — Mr. Slidell

calls — dine at Mr. Everett's — letter from Sally.

Tuesday, 6th. — Write a little — "Ponce de Leon's
discovery of Florida" -call at Wiseman's —
Smith's — ev[enin]g at Rich's — then to the Rus-
sian Minister's to a ball — introduced to Count
Bose, the Saxon Minister.

Wednesday, 7th. — A blank — ev[enin]g at home.

Thursday, 8th. — With great exertion rewrite a
chapter — call at Mr. Wiseman — get thirty dollars

— call with him on the Abb6 who promises to speak
to Duke of Veraguas1 to get me the examination of
Archives — call at Mrs. Ryan's — ev[enin]g Rich's

— Slidell there.

February 9th. — Friday. An idle day — read
newspapers at Mr. Wiseman's — hi evening read
"Quentin Durward" at Rich's.

Saturday, 10th. — Write a little at " Columb[us] "

— ev[enin]g at home — read " Quentin Durward."
Sunday, llth. — Could not write without great

difficulty — walk out with Peter — meet Mrs.
Rich, Mr. and Mrs. Ryan — walk in Retire —
ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — Rich, Slidell, Smith,
Mont[gomer]y.

Monday, 12th. — Read in Ms. of "Las Casas" —
make alterations hi " Columb[us] " — letters from
Beasley, Brevoort, E. Irving, Mr. Gary of Phil.

— ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Mr. and Mrs. Ryan,
Mr. Slidell there.

Tuesday, 13th. — All day rewriting chapt[er] on
"Columb[us]" — ev[enin]g opera — "Tibaldo," etc.

— bro[ugh]t home the girls.

February 14th. — Wednesday. Write all day at
"Columbus" — ev[enin]g at home — read "Quentin
Durward" — letter from Lady Granard.

Thursday, 15th. — " Columb[us] " — Mr. Slidell
calls — go with him to copier and leave Ms. to be
copied — ev[enin]g at home — Montg[omer]y there
• — cards.

Friday, 16th. — " Columb[us] " — Mr. Slidell

1 In the preface to "Columbus" Irving acknowledged the
liberality shown him by this descendant and representative of the
great discoverer.

called and Prince Dolgorouki — gave Slidell more
Ms. — ev[enin]g at Ryan's — chess — all night
broken dreams — fearful the work was not well
enough written.

Saturday, 17th. — All day making notes from
"Las Casas" - ev[enin]g Mr. Slidell called — cards
at Rich's.

Sunday, 18th. — "Columb[us]" all day — Slidell
calls — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Montgomery]
there — write from ten to half-past twelve.

Monday, 19th. — "Columb[us]" - - get thirty dol-
lars from Mr. Wiseman — ev[enin]g at home.

February 20th. — Tuesday. "Columbus" — let-
ter from V. Wart — ev[enin]g at home — rainy
weather.

Wednesday, 21 st. — " Colum[bus] ' ' — ev[ening] call
at Slidell — opera — "Tibaldo and Isolina."

Thursday, 22d. — " Columb[us] " — called with Sli-
dell at the hydrographical establishment] — saw
Don Antonio and Navarette there — called on Mr.
Anthony Brydge — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's —
Slidell, Smith, Peter. Wrote this day to Van Wart
and to Pierre Irving.

Friday, 23d. — Work but very little — Slidell
calls — walk out with him in Prado — ev[enin]g at
opera — "Tibaldo and Isolina" -Mrs. Ryan's —
Russian Minister — ball — return home at one
o'clock.

Saturday, 24th. — Write a letter to E. I. — sent
under cover to Beadsley — wrote a little at "Co-
lumb[us] " — headache — ev[enin]g at Theatre de lar
Cruz — afterwards at Mr. Ryan's.

February 25th. — Sunday. A little at "Colum-
b[us] " — but slowly — Mr. Slidell calls — call with
him on Mr. d'Oubril — ev[enin]g at Everett's.

Monday, 26th. — All day " Columb[us] " — write a
letter to Storrow by post — ev[enin]g at O'Shea's —
opera — "Tibaldo and - — and Ryan's bring
the girls home — fine weather.

Tuesday, 27th. — " Columb[us] " — at four o'clock
go with Peter to Theatre del Principe — take the
two boys — afterwards at Mrs. Ryan's — then
home.

Wednesday, 28th. — "Columb[us]" — Slidell and
Mr. Brydges call — walk out with Slidell — ev[enin]g
at home — Montg[omer]y — whist — fine sunny
weather — warm.

March 1, 1827. — Thursday. " Columb[us] " —
call at SlidelPs at five o'clock — ev[enin]g at Rich's
— Slidell, Smith, Montg[omer]y — give vol[ume] Mss.
to Ireland.

Friday, 2d. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g Mrs.
Ryan's — with the Riches, 'Smith, Slidell, etc.

Saturday, 3d. — Rose at five — " Columbus" all
day — ev[enin]g at home — Ryans, Smith, Slidell,
Montg[omer]y, etc.

Sunday, 4th. — All day "Columbus" — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Everett's with Peter and Mr. Slidell.

Monday, 5th. — "Columbus" — letter from Pierre
to which I reply — call at SlidelPs — ev[enin]g at
Mrs. Ryan's — chess.

Tuesday, 6th. — Excessively wearied — could not
write — called on Slidell — on Mr. Ruiz — slept all
the afternoon — ev[enin]g at Marchioness Casa
Yrugo's.

Wednesday, 7th. — Library notes — Mr. Long-
fellow arrives1 — letters from Storrow — ev[enin]g

Longfellow

society

at home — Mr. Longfellow and Mr. Slidell — get
forty dollars from Mr. Wiseman.

March 8th. — Thursday. "Columb[us] " a little
- call on Mr. Longfellow — ev[enin]g at home.

March 9th. — Friday. ' ' Columb[us] ' ' - ev[enin]g
at Mr. Everett's — Mr. Longfellow — write to
Pierre by Mr. Brydges.

Saturday, 10th. — Incapable of working — ex-
tremely depressed — ev[enin]g at home.

Sunday, llth. — Work with great difficulty at
"Columb[us]'' -ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's — girls
there.

Monday, 12th. — A little at " Columb[us] "
call at Mr. Wiseman's — ev[enin]g at home-
Mr. and Mrs. Ryan — Mr. Longfellow — Smith,
Slidell.

Monday, 13. — A little at "Columbus" -walk
in Retiro — weather warm — almond trees in blos-
som — get forty dollars of Mr. Wiseman, owe him
about twenty dollars — paid tailor for pantaloons
and waistcoat — ev[enin]g at Marchioness Casa
Yrugo's — d'Oubrils there, etc. — came home half-
past eleven.

Wednesday, 14th. — " Columb[us] " - ev[enin]g at
Mr. d'Oubril's — present Prussian Minister -
Count Donoff — Mr. Vielcartel, etc.

March 15th. — Thursday. " Columbus" (not
in form) — letter from Pierre — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Ryan's with the Riches.

Mr. Everett and family, Mr. Smith, his secretary Mr. Rich, the
consul, Washington Irving and his brother Peter, Lieutenant Slidell
of the navy, and myself compose the whole. . . . Washington
Irving, who resides in the same house, always makes one there in
the evening. This is altogether delightful, for he is one of those
men who put you at ease with them in a moment. He makes no
ceremony whatever with one, and, of course, is a very fine man in
society, all mirth and good humor."

Friday, 16th. — "Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g at
home — Ryan's — Smith, etc.

Wednesday, 17th. — "Columb[us]" — ev[enin]g
Ryan's.

Sunday, 18th. — " ColumbfusI" — Mr. Slidell ar-
rives — ev[enin]g at Mr. Everett's — Slidell, Long-
fellow, etc.

Monday, 19th. — Went with Mr. Everett to
Bezamanos at Prado — Peter accompan[ie]d us and
Smith — ev[enin]g at home — Ryan's, Longfellow,
etc.

Rec[eive]d letter this day from Mr. Storrow ap-
prising of pay[men]t of bill by E. I.

Tuesday, 20th. — A little at ' ' Columb[us] ' ' — draw
bill on Storrow — thirty days' sight 1,500 francs,
favor of Wiseman — receive fifty dollars from Wise-
man— which makes about seventy dollars against
the 1,500 fr[ancs] — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's —
Mr. Vaughan there — afterwards at Mad. d'Oubril's
— Baron Strick there — return home half-past
eleven.

March 21st. — Wednesday. Cannot write —
ev[enin]g at home — whist — write to Mr. Storrow
and to Pierre by French courier.

Thursday, 22d. — Cannot write — doze a great
part of day — dine at Mr. Everett's — Mr. Slidell,
Longfellow, Smith, Peter there.

Friday, 23d. — Visit Museum of Nat[ural]
Histfory] copy a letter of "Columb[usj " — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Ryan's.

Saturday, 24th. — Besamanos on anniversary of
King's return from France — go to Court — write
a little at "Columb[us]" — ev[enin]g at home —
Smith, Slidell, Longfellow.

Sunday, 25th. — Incapable of literary occupation

— leave Ms. with Ireland — walk in ev[enin]g in
Prado with Longfellow and Slidell — evfeninjg at
Mr. Ryan's — the Riches there — ventriloquist.

Monday, 26th. — " Columb[us] " - write consider-
able— ev[enin]g call at Mr. Everett's — not at
home — Smith's — pass ev[enin]g at Mr. d'Oubril's

- return home quarter before twelve.

March 27th. — Tuesday. " Columb[us] " — buy
hat seven dollars — ev[enin]g at Marchioness de
Casa Yrugo's — take Mr. Slidell and Mr. Longfellow
there — return home at twelve.

March 28th. — Wednesday. "Columb[us]"
ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — Slidell, Longfellow, Mr.
and Mrs. Cansage, Mrs. O'Shea and nephew.

March 29th. — Thursday. ' ' Columb[us] " - - call at
Smith's — ev[enin]g at Mr. d'Oubril's — lend vol-
[ume] of "Bleda."

Friday, 30th. — "Columbus" -get forty dollars
of Mr. Wiseman — ev[enin]g at Rich's.

Saturday, 3 1st. — "Columb[us]" -ev[enin]g call
at SlidelPs then to Mr. Ryan's — chess.

April 1st. — Sunday. Walk out early to Smith's

- "Columb[us] " all day — dine at Mr. Everett's —
Mr. Rich, Smith and Longfellow — return home
before ten and write till one.

Monday, 2d. — " Columb[us] " — ev[enin]g walk in
Retiro with Smith, Longfellow, Montgomery] -
ev[enin]g at Rich's — pay Ireland for copy[in]g six
dollars.

Tuesday, 3d. — April — birthday — " Columb[us] "
ev[enin]g call at Smith's — Father Goff and Pil-
grims there — pass ev[enin]g at Mr. d'Oubril's -
the Prussian Consul there and Mr. Waddington —
stay till twelve.

Wednesday, 4th. — "Columb[us]" -work slowly

— ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's — the Ryans there and
Smith.

Thursday, 5th. — " Columb[us] " — write to Mur-
ray— ev[enin]g at Ryan's — the Riches, Smith,
Peter.

Friday, 6th. — "Columbfus]" — ev[enin]g at Mr.
d'Oubril's.

Saturday, 7th. — " Columbfus]" — walk in Retiro

- meet Mr. Longfellow and the officer — ev[enin]g
at Mr. Rich's — Longfellow and Smith there.

Sunday, 8th. — " Columbfus] " — Slidell returns —
walk in ev[enin]g to Prado with Slidell — afterward
at Everett — Slidell, Longfellow, Smith, Peter -
Count Bosse calls.

Monday, 9th. — " Columb[us] " all day — Art -
Indian customs — receive letter from Pierre -
H. V. W. — Peter receives letter from Beasley —
ev[enin]g at home — Slidell and Longfellow.

April 10th. — Tuesday. " Columb[us] " a little —
nervous — ev[enin]g at Mr. Ryan's — Mr. d'Oubril's.

Wednesday, llth. — "Columb[us]" - see Slidell off

- call at Wiseman's — Everett's — ev[enin]g at
home — Mrs. O'Shea, Peter, Montg[omer]y, etc.

Thursday, 12th. — Morn'g went to palace to
see the ceremony of King giving food to thirteen
poor persons — no one in but Baron Strick —
Mr. Slidell and myself — afternoon procession of
King and Queen, etc. — ev[enin]g visited various
churches.

Friday, 13th. — Good Friday — write at "Co-
lumb[us]" — called at Mr. Wiseman's — Mr. d'Ou-
bril's, Smith's — after dinner called at Mrs. O'Shea's
to see procession — weather rainy — no procession

— went to Royal chapel with John O'Shea — heard
"Miserere" — met Mr. Dedel, Baron Lieberman,

Mr. Strick, Count Donoff, Gen'l . Called after-
wards at Ryan's.

$40 to-day from Mr. Wiseman
40
70

150

April 14th. — Saturday. Read at " Columb[us] " —
called at Mr. Wiseman's and read papers — called
at Mr. d'Oubril's — visited Mr. Waddington — left
card for Bosanquet — called and paid Mr. Joaquin
Mendezabl twenty dollars for copying — after dinner
walked in Prado with Mr. Longfellow — beautiful
fresh ev[enin]g after rain — met Smith and Peter —
took ice afterwards — ev[enin]g at Mr. Rich's -
the Ryans and Longfellow, Smith, etc.

This day at half-past ten great ringing of bell -
firing of muskets — squibs, etc., in commemora-
tion of the resurrection of our Saviour.

Sunday, 15th. — "Columb[us]" a little — called
Mr. d'Oubril's — Smith's — ev[enin]g called at Mr.
Everett's — not at home — ret[urne]d home and
wrote.

Monday, 16th. — "Columb[us]" — Mr. Wadding-
ton called — ev[ening] at Theatre del Principe —
Play "Del Rey Abajo" -good — and los genios
incontrados.

Tuesday, 17th. — "Columb[us] — called at Mr.
d'Oubril's — see him — call afterwards at Mr. Ever-
ett's — ev[enin]g at home — Mrs. O'Shea, John
O'Shea, Mr. Smith.

Wednesday, 18th. — "Columb[us]" -call at Mr.
Wiseman's — at Mrs. Ryan's — ev[enin]g at opera
— "Tibaldo and Isolina."

Thursday, 19th. — "Columb[us]" — rec[eive]d let-
ters from E. I., dated March 15 — sombre —
Peter rec[eive]d letter from Beasley — ev[enin]g at
Theatre de la Cruz with Longfellow — play "Celes-
tina" — first appearance of Viny.

Friday, 20th. — "Columbus" - ev[enin]g walk in
Prado — afterwards at home at Rich's.

Saturday, 21st. — "Columbus" — get fifty dollars
of Mr. Wiseman — making in all $200 — ev[enin]g
at Theatre de la Cruz with Smith — play — "El
Pastelera de Madrigal" in which Marcella played
very well.

Sunday, 22d. — "Columb[us]" — ev[enin]g at Mr.
Everett's — rainy cold weather.

Monday, 23d. — " Columb[us] " — rainy and cold
weather — letter from Pierre — reply to it — ev[e-
nin]g call at Mr. Longfellow's — find him unwell —
stay there till nine — letters had been rec[eive]d
from Slidell — robbed — passed rest of ev[enin]g at
Mr. d'Oubril's.

Tuesday, 24th. — "Columb[us]" — letter from Sli-
dell — call at Mr. Everett — eve[nin]g at Longfel-
low's— indisposed — afterwards at Mr. d'Oubril's
— give book to Antoinette — Count Denoff there —
Baron Lieberman — converse on German literature
and superstitions.

Wednesday, 25th. — "Columb[us]" — call at
O'Shea's — get papers — ev[enin]g at Theatre de
la Cruz — "La Casualidad contra el Cuidado." l Mr.
Everett there — re[turne]d home with him.

April 26th. — Thursday. " Columb[us] " — went
with Prince Dolgorucki to see Saloon of the ruined
palace of Buon — Retire — painted in fresco by
Jordan — another room with battles of the Moors —

1 "Chance against Precaution."

Triumphal car in which Ferdinand entered on hie
return from Cadiz — pretty view from the old
garden — call at Mrs. Ryan's — ev[enin]g at home
— write letter to Slidell and Kenney.

Friday, 27th.— "Columb[us]" - send letter to Sli-
dell — ev[enin]g at Mr. d'Oubril's — till twelve.

Saturday, 28th. — "Columb[us]" -ev[enin]g at
Theatre de la Cruz — the original of "The Liar"
- took Spanish lesson this day.

Sunday, 29th. — "Columb[us]" -ev[enin]g go to
see the toros come in from country — afterwards at
Mr. d'Oubril's — tell story to children.

Monday, 80th. — Morn'g — toros — letter from
Slidell and from Spaniard in America occupied on
grammar — ev[enin]g at Theatre de la Cruz — send
letter by post to Kenney.

[This concludes the day-by-day entries in this volume;
but it is worth while transcribing two other entries, one
on the last sheet of the book, and the other written on
the inside of the back cover. The first of these notes is
this well-expressed thought:]

A monument is generally a saint's paymen[t] of a
debt withheld during the life of the creditor.

[The second note is a bit of description:]

Man crawls out of stable of rubbish which he calls
a house. He is cov[ere]d with a quantity of rags
which he calls clothes and a pyramid of rags which
he calls cap.

SPAIN

JULY AND AUGUST, 1829

July 28th.1 — Tuesday. Breakfast with Muriel
the painter where I met the Duke of Gor2 — take
leave of them — dine at the Fonda y Cruz of Malta.
Ev[enin]g, at five o'clock leave Granada in company
with Mr. Raphael Sneyd in tartana3 for Murcia
escorted by Antonio, a long-legged, tall, swarthy
Portuguese, armed with escopeta* — wind up among
wild mountain scenery — get a last look at the Al-
hambra — mountains arid and stern. No one could
have an idea that the vegab of Granada lay below —
here and there little patches of vegetation — houses
with vines — girl seated at the door of one, her hair
tastily dressed with flowers — neat stockings and
shoes — meet solitary muleteer with musket hang-
ing at saddle. To our right is the Sierra Nevada —
at three leagues distance come to Huelva, a pretty
village among trees — put up at posada kept by a
Frenchman — close by a mill with great rush of

1 On this day Irving left the Alhambra for England, having ac-
cepted President Jackson's appointment to the Secretaryship of
Legation at the Court of St. James.

2 The Duke and Duchess of Gor, with their family of children,
became Irving's most agreeable friends during his two months' so-
journ at the Alhambra.

* A "kind of rumble tumble," as Irving described it, "on two
wheels, resembling a covered English market-cart."

4 A light musket carried by guides and soldiers.

B A soft valley of great richness and fertility, forming a pleas-
ing contrast to the general melancholy grandeur of the mountains
and wild country.

water amid noble trees — fountain falls into a
trough in face of the inn — the sound of water par-
ticularly agreeable in the hot season. Make tea -
comfortable meal — the expedients of a Spanish
posada — break sugar with knife on the back of a
chair — heat water in a chocolate pot — make tea
in a jug — spread our mattress on the floor.

July 29th. — Wednesday. Start at three o'clock
-pass up a wild, lonely mountain defile called
Puente1 de Ceregi — bad place for robbers — An-
tonio runs ahead — herbage aromatic. Nothing
can be more stern and solitary than the mountains
jagged with rugged stones that at a distance show
rough, scarred garrisons with giants.

Fresh morning air — sun gilding summits -
shepherd driving his flock up the rough side of
mountain — string of muleteers passing by a cross
pass between mountains — flocks of goats — pass
called Prada del Rey — very simple bold scenery -
bold grey mountains in front as we go up the pass -
pass by a high cliff piled up with rocks. Antonio
pointed out a hole on the summit overhung by a
crag which was the entrance to a cave in which the
robbers took shelter when they turned out here on
a raid.

Muleteer tells us up here is a barraquilla2 - - very
bad for robbers.

Antonio points out a nest in rocks where one had
slept that night — said he had taken two there about
a year before while travelling with the young Mar-
quis of Villa Franco.

Beautiful little wild pass winding among rugged

1 With Irving's handwriting one easily mistakes Fu&nte (foun-
tain) for Putnte (bridge).
1 A little hut.

limestones covered with lichen and ivy — great
place for robbers — called Los Dientes de la Vieja1

— a barranca* on one side of the road.

Pass by La Venta del Molinar pleasantly situated
by a little brook with willows and silver poplars —
climbed a sierra and pass along a deep valley, with
the Sierra Nevada to the right — fine, stern moun-
tain scenery — open in some places. Arrive quarter
before ten at a miserable little village where we
stopped to pass the heat of the day — get a cool
room, shave, wash and dress ourselves and lie on
mattresses.

About a league before arriving at Guadix, we
are met by the administrator of the Duke of Gor
with several canons, etc., who have come with a
carriage to convey us to the Duke's house in Guadix

— arrive there towards dusk — fine Alameda — re-
mains of old Moorish castle. At the administrator's
we have a tertulia of canons,3 etc., one of whom has
been many years in Persia — ices and biscuits — a
good supper and good bed.

July 80th. — Thursday. Set off at four o'clock
in the morning — walk almost the whole way to
Gor — the vega of Guadix very rich — town pic-
turesque, with Sierra Nevada behind it — pass over
great, solitary, silent heights and plains — sit for
some tune under a tree commanding wide view
over dry, heated country — nothing but the note
of a cricket — all the heaths and mounts covered
with aromatic herbs. About half-past eight come
in sight of Gor, situated in a little green valley with
silver run of water, a mere sloping hollow among

1 /. e., the teeth of the old woman.

2 A deep ravine caused by heavy rains or a watercourse.

3 A "conversazione" mainly composed of priests.

arid heights, with high mountains behind covered
with dark shrubs. Castle of Gor dominating vil-
lage — eagles soaring — pass thro' valley — flocks
of white goats. Gor a poor little village — castle
called Palacio — very old, with wainscotted ceil-
ings— great court with columns support'g gallery
- room with deep chimney — walls adorned with
copper and brass vessels — walls very thick -
grated windows — a few small prints of saints. The
administrator a man who has suffered for liberal
sentiments — tall, stout man — nephew a light,
active man — good face good manners — shews us
his guns with patent locks — niece, a pretty-
looking girl, waits on us ' — little girls of the family
peep in shyly — floors of brick — walls white -
arms of Gor, lion and castle divided by blue diagonal
band in two dragons' mouths — people very civil
and frank.

Monastery of Gor with the old monteras.1

In the Castle — the room in which I lie down
in a tower — thick walls — one window — large
wooden chest — vase hanging ag[ain]st the wall for
holy water.

In Gor the women have white woollen mantillas,
something like the Moorish women.

Four prisoners brought to Gor heavily ironed
and with strong escort on their way to Malaga —
part of a band or fraternity of twenty-seven who
were in various places and exchanged their booty.
The captain had once robbed Antonio.

Leave Gor about half -past two — walk for some
distance — open plains on mountains — high moun-
tain scenery cover'd with shrubs — battle between
an immense spider and large fly in which the former

1 Skylights — glass covering over gallery or court.
67

is killed. We are overtaken by a gallara1 from
Granada to Baza, and by the escort of the robbers
— two soldiers and many peasants on horses, mules
and donkeys — arrive at Baza after dark — long,
winding descent — pass by alameda2 — immense iron
cannon with hoops or ribs and great stone ball,
reliques since the tune of the Conquest — put up at
inn kept by Frenchman — indifferent supper —
sleep on a mattress on the floor — Posada del Sol3
- good rooms — new house.

July 31st. — Friday. At daybreak muleteers
arrive with a long train of mules laden with mer-
chandise, and the first one carrying our trunks —
they travel all night and lie by the day.

Leave Baza at a little after four o'clock — fine
alameda — on leaving the town — pass by a small
chapel erected on the spot where according to the
vulgar tradition Isabella4 fired the last cannon -
vega of Baza a wide plain with mountains at a dis-
tance — pass thro' hilly, arid country — about

arrive at Cullar, a large village with a green

valley and orchard contrasting with the aridity of
the surround'g country — suburbs of Cullar —
people living in caves — children naked and sun-
burnt — put up at large posada in plaza. On
the road to this place Antonio overtakes an old
comrade — fellow soldier, a native of Arragon,
bound to Valencia — lets him hang his pack behind
the tartana.

1 Galera, — a rude coach or heavy covered waggon.

2 A public walk with rows of trees.

3 I. e., Tavern or Inn of the Sun. The Spanish taverns of the
day seem to have offered scant accommodations for travellers, as
we note that Irving had frequently to send his "long-legged Portu-
gese" down into the wretched villages to forage for food.

4 Baza was captured in 1489 by Queen Isabella, with the help
of the cannon which Irving saw in the Alameda.

Inn — several women about it who have a gypsy
look — one who appears to be the mistress is young
and handsome — olive complexion — slender ankles
and feet — string of pearls around her neck — long
silver chain with relique — earrings with imitation
of diamonds — embroidered bodice — she is big
with child. Antonio tells me that it is a gypsy
family. The mother and other daughters have
likewise silver chains — one has a sky-blue silk
bodice — a beautiful child about ten years old
that is silly.

Plaza Real at half-past six — French merchants.
Retired to take siesta — greyhounds sleeping in
sun — doors of shops with neat awnings — a group
of peasants — monteras l — mantles of striped cloth
— swarm of borricos2 cross place with water- jugs
slung across. Window of prison opposite (cabilas) 3
closed — prisoners sleeping — shoes of espartena*
hanging in grate of the window — arrival of stu-
dent begging — student in old cocked hat, a stu-
dent's cloak wrapped round him leaving one shoulder
out — striped cotton trousers, espartena shoes —
a little Valencian with petticoat trousers, and
leading a neat pony.

Scene in the interior of the posada — great com-
partments divided by arches — in one part four
Valencians dining — in another at the foot of the
staircase a man and boy making sieves — several
mules and asses loading — in another part, the
family — some seated on the floor — the one with
child lolling and fanning herself — her sister a
very pretty dark girl working. On a bench near them
is their brother, a middle-sized young man about

1 Caps worn by peasants. * Asses.

1 This word is perplexing. * Sandals made of feather grass.

twenty-two, handsome, with coloured h'k'f [hand-
kerchief] round his head — a shirt with worked
ruffles — green plaid plush jacket thrown over
shoulder — red silk bands of a vest beneath —
green plush breeches with rows of large silver but-
tons — botinas1 of a handsome form and shoes. The
girls have frills and bibs to their shift sleeves -
chains of filagree silver with silver medals — pearl
necklaces. Their basquinas open on one side and
laced and fringed — their combs ornamented with
silver lines — their bodices worked. The crazy
girl sings and dances a Castilian dance — looks
languishing with her large dark eyes — has on a
shift and basquina — the shift sleeves fringed — the
basquina open on one side — long gold pendants
in her ears. She is barefooted — twists her arms
together and sits on the floor — once a day towards
night she becomes wild and would tear her hah- and
clothes and bite were they not to bind her. They
have tried baths with her with some effect — the
young gypsy fellow tells me that her sister who was
with child cared for nothing but to romp with the
men. She said he was a little mad.

Leave Cullar about three — pass thro' hilly
country — hills covered with coarse shrub, etc., so
as to be green — some shallow valleys cultivated —
excellent road. Arrive at Chiribel about nine
o'clock — a small village — posada destitute of
everything — send out and get brown bread and
eggs in the village. Posada has great arches -
looks like cavern — muleteers wrapped in manias
lying on floor.

August 1st. — Saturday. Leave Chiribel about
four o'clock. The road for great part of the morn'g

1 Gaiters.

lies along a rambla1 bordered by fine trees — the
mountains around high, grey, and arid but pic-
turesque. After travelling three leagues we arrive
at Ve"lez-Rubio — neat town situated in pleasant
valley surrounded by high, grey, rocky mountains -
after breakfast called on the curate, Don Pablo,
Brother of Frasquita of the Alhambra. Not at
home, but found the sister and niece of Frasquita -
the latter much resembling Dolores2 — sat with
them for about an hour.

Ve'lez-Rubio is very picturesque — when viewed
at a distance from the East a belt of orchards below,
the church rising above — and lofty grey mountains
around — after leaving it we have a steep ascent
among dizzy mountains. We see Ve"lez Blanco at a
distance with its old Moorish castle — fine, wild
mountain scenery — travel all the afternoon in
the bed of a rambla — wild, forlorn, solitary coun-
try with only here and there at great distance a
cortijo3 — arrive about seven o'clock at Puerta
Lombreras — a poor village situated each side of
the bed of the river — poor posada — nothing in
the house — have to send to opposite side of the
rambla to procure eggs and tomatoes for supper.
N. B. Between Velez and Puerta Lombreras pass
the boundary line and enter the ancient kingdom of
Murcia — supper, night's lodging, chocolate one-
half dollar.

August 2d. — Sunday. Leave Puerta Lombreras
at daybreak and walk for about two leagues — road
along a descending plain bordered by arid moun-

1 A sandy bed of a stream gone dry.

1 The bright-eyed little Spanish maid who waited upon Irving
during his stay at the Alhambra.
' Farmhouse.

tains — the plain at first sandy, but improves as we
proceed, until we come to the rich vega of Lorca
(three leagues distant). Lorca large town, pic-
turesque — at a distance a Moorish castle above
it, at present a prison — fine alameda with noble
trees — fine fountain, called Fuente del Oro, with
many spouts casting water into a long trough —
town divided from suburb by a wide, sandy bed of
a mountain torrent, in centre of which stands a
large convent surrounded by gardens. About
twenty-two years since a lake situated among the
hills broke its banks and swept down this bed carry-
ing everything before it. Houses were demolished,
the convent reduced to ruins, and many lives lost.
The peasantry about this part of the country wear
high, conical monteras of black velvet — wide
petticoat trousers of linen, bare legs or stocking
leggings, and sandals of espartena — a sash round
the waist and have the look of Moors — women
with white woollen mantillas. Scattered palm trees
give the country an African look and suit the wide,
sandy, sunburnt plain and arid mountains. Stop
about eight o'clock at a posada in the suburb — an
old, gorbellied1 landlord with montera and row of
large filigree silver buttons to his waistcoat —
grey hairs plaited behind. A little tempest of a
chamber-maid in a great fury because she had to
prepare rooms for us. Antonio is very authorita-
tive at the inns, with a voice as if from a barrel.

In the posada under the archway two travellers
seated, taking chianti — a muleteer sleeping on his
mania on the pavement — another in the passage
to our room. Antonio sallies forth to buy provi-
sions for breakfast — room in posada — an earthen

1 This synonym for big-bellied is now obsolete.

floor — one wooden chair with espartena bottoms

- one without a back — a table of rough wood -
low, black and dirty.

In the lower floor of the posada begging friar with
broad white hat, cowl thrown back, a sack slung
over his shoulders well filled.

Fountain near the posada — an obelisk with
several bronz lions' heads spouting crystal water -
fountain surrounded by women with earthen jars

- donkeys with water jars, etc., etc.

Posada infested with begging children, ragged boys,
etc. — no glass windows in these parts of Spain.

Leave Lorca about two o'clock — journey along
a plain partially cultivated, but for the most part
poor and sandy, bordered by mountains. About
sunset arrive at Totana, a large village that has a
Moorish look, most of the houses being flat-roofed
— meet with a Swiss at the posada — a traveller
for a commercial house. Seated before the door of
the inn in a kind of courtyard, muleteers, buxom
landlady, etc., etc. — blind fiddler and guitar
player arrive — play in the kitchen and set all
hands dancing — one boy who attends the —
and who had trudged on foot all day, joins in the
dance, until in a profuse perspiration. Peasants,
muleteers, etc., lying asleep on their manias on the
pavements of the stable yard in the open air —
pure starlight above them.

' August 3d. — Monday. Leave Totana at half-
past one o'clock in the night — travel by starlight.
Sleep in the tartana — miss our road and travel
for half an hour on a by-road — cross ploughed
fields to the main road — day dawns — wide
plains, with now and then a flock of goats —
dry but picturesque mountains. Walk for above a

league — stop at ruins of small Moorish tower in
midst of the plain — a refuge for shepherds —
peasants pass us with drove of donkeys — peasants
in short linen trousers — manias thrown over their
shoulders. About half-past six arrive at Lebrilla, a
large, but poor-looking village nearly cut in two by
a deep barranca — houses clay-coloured and low —
stop at posada built by Government — vast and
solid, but as usual destitute of provisions — send
Antonio out on the forage to get eggs and tomatoes.
Leave Lebrilla at half -past eight — road lies over
dry plain — Murcia seen at a distance — tower of
Cathedral — mountains beyond — plain becomes
richly cultivated as we approach.

[Here Irving has made a pencil drawing of his
courier, Antonio, with gun over shoulder.]

Passed between orchards and gardens with im-
mense fig trees, mulberries, oranges, citrons, pome-
granates, grapes, Indian corn and here and there
palm trees — houses of reeds plaistered neatly.
Enter Murcia by fine alameda — put up at large
posada — our rooms command view of bridge, river
(Segura), Cathedral, distant gardens and mountains

- fine row of houses facing the river — noble
quay.

In the evening walk to the Cathedral — rich
Gothic chapel of the Marquis of Velez — cracks
in the vaults of the Cathedral caused by earth-
quake — street of the Plateria,1 very good silver-
smiths' shops — neat streets and good edifices in

the town — beautiful walk called the 2 winding

on elevated terraces through gardens and orchards -
fine vegetation — beautiful view over the trees at
the waving lines of rocky mountains which bound
the view — bridge over the Segura — monuments
to the virgin cracked and broken.

August 4th. — Tuesday. Police refuse to sign
passport without our calling on them — make some
difficulties — call on banker who sends young man
with us — cause of difficulty was they could not
read our passports, being in French and English
— mounted to the top of the Cathedral tower —
noble view over the vega which equals that of
Granada — orchard — gardens — country houses —
palms — cypresses — picturesque mountains and one
part level, stretching eastward towards the sea.

Leave Murcia about quarter-past two. The road

1 The name of the street is derived as Irving indicates, from
the number of silversmiths' shops. It is narrow, and no wheeled
traffic is permitted.

1 Irving undoubtedly refers to the Paseo del Malec6n, Murcia's
noted promenade.

to Orihuela (four leagues distant) lies along the
valley of the Segura, a continued garden — fruits,
vegetables, grain, etc., of the finest kinds — groups
of palm trees, date trees — cottage built of reeds
and plaister to stand the shock of earthquakes.
The approach to Orihuela is uncommonly pic-
.turesque — lofty mountains] of naked stone, bold
and sterile — at their feet a delicious vega. We
pass cottages with flat roofs with palm trees above
them and aloes and Indian fig — grove of oranges,
citrons, pomegranates, etc. — great firs with grape
vines clambering about them and clusters of grapes
hanging among their branches — fine convent of
Franciscans — Orihuela — with flat roofs — Moor-
ish-looking town — houses cracked by earthquake
— in a public place hovels of reeds to pass the night.
Put up at very good posada — ascend the hill to
College of St. Miguel from whence there is a noble
view over the glorious vega enriched by the windings
of the Segura.' At a distance may be seen River,
Viega and the sea.

On the other side of the tower of the Cathedral
of Murcia — the mountains uncommonly fine and
picturesque in their outline and of naked rocks.
At the tune of the earthquake these mountains
"trembled and great stones came tumbling down.
We were shewn to the height by a little, sturdy
Valencian who smelt strongly of wine and his rosy
face shewed him to be a bibber. He was uncom-
monly eloquent in praise of this delicious valley.
Orihuela is in the ancient kingdom of Valencia.

Had again to go before the police about the pass-
ports — found the police office outside of the town
in a cabin of reeds through fear of the earthquake.

August 5th. — Wednesday. Leave Orihuelo at

about four o'clock in the morning — continue along
a fertile and delicious vega — skirt rosy sierra and
rocky mountains. At the foot of one of these is a
hole from whence during the late earthquakes
water issued forth of a noisome odour which withered
whatever it overflowed. Pass through - - where
several houses have been damaged by the earth-
quake. The rich valley or vega of the Segura has
all the character of African or Oriental scenery -
flat-roofed houses — groves of date and palms.
The people might at a distance be mistaken for
Moors, wearing wide, short trousers and being bare-
legged. The plain is cultivated with maize, flax,
hemp — fruits of southern character — dates, pome-
granates, oranges, citrons, grapes, olives, etc. The
locust or cricket makes its sultry sound — people
in the skirts of the town in huts of reeds tied to-
gether, to withstand earthquakes. The rich vega
is encased as it were in mountains of naked rock
that have a burning look in the heat of the day.
We see to our left the Sierra of Orihuela — then the
Sierra Crevillente, infamous for robbers. A peasant,
however, assured us that within the month past the
Realistas have killed about twenty robbers, and the
roads are now more secure. In the course of the
morning, we hear the rumbling of an earthquake
which endured about three seconds. The people of
the villages were afterwards talking of it. Many
shocks have been felt within the last three weeks,
but none serious.

Approach Elche — great grove of date trees like
a small forest — Elche has an Oriental look — flat
roofs and towers — palm trees rising above its
houses — the domes of some of the houses covered
with metal or with tiles in imitation of metal glit-

tering in the sun — arrive there between ten and
eleven.

In posada, as in Spanish houses generally, water
in cool, porous jars standing about to cool in the
drafts of air.

Leave Elche about two o'clock — pass thro'
great groves of date trees giving the place a com-
pletely Oriental look. After leaving these we drive
thro' a dry country growing more and more arid
and sterile as we approach the sea, of which we at
length come in sight. About six o'clock we arrive
at Alicante — fortresses on the summits of the
lofty and craggy hills — put up at the posada of

call and leave card at Mr. Adams', the

American Consul — call on the Chancellor of the
French Consulate, M. May, and who accompanies
me to make arrangements for tartana for Valencia
— meet Mr. Adams, who passes the evening with us.

Call at Gen[era]l Irriberry's, the Governor, about
our passport. He is a tall, thin, dark man with
scrubby, bushy moustache.

August 6th. — Thursday. Breakfasted at Mr.

Adams' — present, Mr. McCulloch, Mr.

story of El Gato, famous robber of the mountains
near Alicante — entered a village disguised with his

men as who pursue robbers — secured the

passes of the grand square — ordered the alcalde1
executed and curate be brought forth and shot.

Of another called , who infested the Sierra

of Crevillente.

Dined at one o'clock with Mr. Adams — set off
at three — in tartana with mozo,2 named Bonotisto,
and two soldiers as escort — road lies west gradually

1 Mayor, or justice of the peace.

2 A youth, a fellow, or servant.

ascending among arid hills — here and there patches
of olives and locusts — cultivated for the fruit —
road stony and laborious — pass thro' village of
Mon6var — stopped for the night at a venta1 four
and one half leagues from Alicante — venta one
story high — with stables round a large, walled
yard. We have a small room on ground floor —
a table as high as a stool — a tin lamp; everything
poor and miserable. While shaving and washing
the landlord advises us to close the window as any
robber might shoot in with his escopeta — said there
had been many robbers about those parts but they
have killed or taken up many of late. One was
brought by this evening and lodged in prison in the
neighbouring village. He had been robbing for two
years past. The alcalde of a neighbouring village
(about twenty-seven years of age) had shewed himself
very brave in pursuing robbers — put himself at the
head of the soldiers — had killed the first robber with
his own hands, shooting him thro' the head. Venta
extremely solitary — only three or four people
inhabiting it — in a silent and lonely country.

This evening sultry — the moon begins to give
light in the early part of the nights — sup on a
musk melon. The soldiers and muleteers, host and
hostess sup at a table in the kitchen part of the
venta, by the light of a tin lamp hung in an arch —
make a long and merry repast.

We desire the muleteer to be ready to set off at
three in the morning, but the landlord advises us
not to start before daylight. " After to-morrow,"
said he, "you may start when you please, but you
have now to pass thro' some narrow and dangerous
defiles. You have but two soldiers as guard. If

1 A poor inn on roads far from villages.

any robbers were on the lookout, they could post
themselves so as to shoot down the soldiers, and
then — buena[s]noche[s]." We agreed, therefore,
not to depart before daybreak. Our mattresses
were spread on the floor and, as usual, we lay down
in our clothes — much incommoded by fleas and
by hungry cats that came prowling after ham that
we had brought with us.

August 7th. — Friday. Leave the venta at day-
break — road passes through broken, arid country

— after daybreak see to our left the Castle of Luna

— great, square, Moorish towers, built on the side
of a rocky mountain, with a wild, rocky, moun-
tainous country.

(Story of Count Luna and his son.) Stop at a
hovel to take brandy — we are joined by a peasant
who tells of the robber taken the day before. He
had been twenty years infesting the mountains —
one of the oldest robbers in the country — refused
to give himself up to any but the alcalde mayor.
The latter is a young man of twenty-six. He
mounted his horse and put himself at the head of
the troops. When they came to the place he ad-
vanced alone. " Where is this man that wishes to
see me? Let him advance!" The robber ad-
vanced and he levelled his escopeta and shot him
through the head.

We passed thro' a narrow, steep defile between
perpendicular rocks, famous for attacks of robbers.
The soldiers mounted the heights and flanked the
defile.

After passing for two leagues thro' broken, wild,
arid country, we came in sight of the little vega or
fertile basin of Elda — the town with castle.

Another castle at a distance on a high, rocky hill

rising like a cone out of the valley — stop at Elda
and get fruit and bread — curate invites us to his
house to take chocolate, — which we decline, hav-
ing taken it before our departure from the venta.

Women of Elda with profusion of fine black hair
divided from the crown in several small plaits and
passed under the arm. After leaving Elda we pass
thro' the little town of Vielar with an old Moorish
castle; in this live many rich people. We then
traverse arid, broken country and the vega of Vil-
lena; very arid and sultry — surrounded by hills
that look like cast iron — arrive at the town about
eleven, being five leagues from the venta where we
passed the night. Villena has a picturesque old
castle on an eminence commanding the town —
put up at the Posada de la Plaza.

Scene in the posada — some of the family and
guests seated in an archway to enjoy cool air -
two muleteers seated on the earth in a corner count-
ing their copper coin — a gang of peasants arrive
with donkeys — short, thickset men, swarthy as
Moors — dirty shirts — wide petticoat trousers
reaching to the knees — sash around the waist and
staff thrust through it behind with which they beat
their donkeys.

Inscription on the sergeant's sword:

No me saqueis sin rason,

No me embargues sin honor.

Do not draw me without reason,

Do not sheath me without honour.

Villena. The castle apparently built on the re-
mains of a Moorish fortress. There is the square
keep of the Moorish castle but round towers of
Spanish construction are added. It is a picturesque
ruin and in good preservation.

We left Villena about three, and had a long
afternoon thro' an arid, naked, sultry country,
hilly, but not picturesque; the grain is cut and the
fields which in springtime would be green are bare
and dry. We are joined by two men with muskets
conveying a prisoner to the presidio at Valencia to
which he is condemned for one year for having
been concerned in smuggling tobacco. He was a
short, stout man, black and hairy, but almost lame
from travelling on foot in this hot weather.

At half-past seven we arrive at Fuente Higuera,
a small village, where we put up for the night, com-
forted by the sight of a kitchen cleaner, and better
appointed than any we had seen on the road.

Fat Sancho Panza of a landlord with long body
and big paunch swathed underneath with a sash-
petticoat trousers — who details at full length and
with dramatic effect the story of the robber killed
by the alcalde.

August 8th. — Saturday. Discharge our soldiers
— pay them.

Set off at half-past four — overtake the guards
conducting the prisoner who we find is punished for
having carried a letter from robbers to a farmer de-
manding money.

After travelling about half a league we come into
the highroad from Madrid to Valencia and see a
diligence passing, bound to the former place — road
lies through picturesque country; a kind of valley
between chains of bold mountains — overtake An-
tonio the Sergeant, the old comrade of our late
escapetora,1 Antonio, and who had left us at Orihuela.
He was trudging along alone and was overjoyed to

1 Escopetero; i. e., the armed guard who accompanied all travellers
through this robber-infested region.

see us — we took his heavy wallet in our tar tana.
The muleteer stopped to breakfast at a large posada
by the roadside and we took some fruit under a tree.

Country improves as we advance — valley to our
right more fertile — mount[ain]s clothed with shrubs,
etc. — pass to our right the ruins of a Moorish
castle on an eminence called the Castle of Montesa.

Weather hot, road dusty — about twelve o'clock
arrive at an excellent posada — new and with good
rooms, beds, etc. — called Venta del Conde", near
Canales — built for the diligence — great delay
and difficulty in getting wash-basins, water, towels,
etc., cleanliness of person not being considered
among the wants of the traveller.

Leave the posada at three o'clock — road turns
more northwardly — to our right we see St. Philip,
a picturesque town with old Moorish castle above
and a rich vega below it — road winds up a mountain
called the Sierra of St. Filippe — pass thro' the
Puente* y el Carcel.1 Zigzag, steep, mountainous
road, and have a grand view over the vega of Valencia

— descend into the vega — pass by rice planta-
tions, fields of Indian corn — fruits of various kinds

— villages — an air of industry, activity — good
cultivation — pass crosses on road, and in one vil-
lage there is a kind of rude obelisk with the scull2 of
a robber and murderer hanging in an iron cage —
some of the hair remains on the scull.

At nine o'clock arrive at Alcira — streets full of
people seated at their doors in moonlight, talking,
laughing, strumming guitars — put up at a very
good posada.

Group on the ground floor of the posada — a

1 Puente de la Carcel; t. e., bridge of the prison.
* An obsolete spelling of "skull."

young, blind man who plays on the guitar, with his
wife who has a child lying asleep in her lap. They
sing several Spanish airs — peasants standing around
them in Valencian dress — three meguelictas1 —
fine young men — with muskets — jackets slung
over their shoulders — group of peasants supping
and drinking black wine out of Valenian bottles.

One peasant with little cap on top of his head and
long, full, black locks — another, an old man, with cap
on the back of his head — nearly bald — scattered
grey locks.

In the inn great display of earthenware — brass
and copper utensils well scoured, etc., and arranged
against the wall in front of the main entrance.

August 9th. — Sunday. Left Alcira about quarter-
past four o'clock — a short distance from the town
passed two obelisks side by side, ag[ain]st which
were suspended two iron cages with the head-
sculls of murderers. — We had a long, hot and
dusty drive thro' the rich plain of Valencia: It is
highly cultivated and very populous, but a dead
level and rather monotonous — saw many pretty
women among the young peasant girls — fairer
complexions and rounder faces than in most parts
of Spam. From an eminence on which stands a tall
and ruined watch tower we caught a distant view
of Valencia — arrived there about eleven and put
up at the filthy Fonda de la Paz, in front of the
Cathedral.

After dressing, etc., went to the Posada de la los
Puentos2 to inquire whether the muleteers had ar-
rived with our trunks. They had not. Posada

1 Megueletes; belonging to the militia of Catalonia and the
Pyrenees.

2 Posada de las puentes; i. e., the tavern of the bridges.

thronged with muleteers and cvrsarios1 — groups
seated round the great doorway — landlord and
family with stable-boys, etc., seated dining at a low
table in the centre of the great entrance.

In the evening strolled out with Mr. Sneyd to the
alameda — found throng of people in tartanas, etc.,
going into the country — followed the current over
bridge which crosses the Guadalquivir along a great
avenue of trees for hah" a league. We were full of
conjecture what could be the meaning of this con-
course and whither the current was taking us —
whether to a fab*, a religious f£te, etc., etc. At length
we arrived at a little village which forms the sea-
port of Valencia and found that this throng was
formed by the good people of Valencia going to the
port to bathe in the surf. Places were assigned for
the men and for the women. There were booths
of mats, etc., on the banks, where they were pro-
vided with bathing dresses. Great array of galley
slaves at the port ranged in platoons prior to being
turned into their prisons for the night.

On our return we saw a man beating another
terribly. The latter appeared to be a dullard. He
had crouched beneath the blow and had squatted
himself to the earth like a toad — the former was
pummelling him with his fists, stamping on him,
etc. His rage seemed to increase with action and
at last he seized a stone to beat the head of his
victim. Three megueletes interfered and separated
them, but inflicted no punishment on the brute.

The favourite vehicle in Valencia is the tartana, a
mere covered cart drawn by one horse. Some are
finished with some attempt at elegance, but they
are clumsy, gloomy carriages.

1 Privateers.
85

On our return we found all the gay world assem-
bled in the glorieta, which is a very charming public
walk with trees and fountains.

We stopped at a cafe" and took ices and then re-
turned to our Inn.

August 10th. — Monday. Rise at five — walk
out at six — visit the market-place — popular scenes
— soldiers and housemaids — friar talking and
laughing with buxom wife of farmer — a young
woman observing them from behind the curtain of
an opposite shop. After breakfast walk out with
Mr. Sneyd — ascend the tower of the Cathedral
from whence we have a fine view of the city and
vega — walk about the city. In the evening call
at the house of our champion (who is absent) —
take segar l and refreshments with his clerk — pro-
cure newspapers. Evening at cafe" taking ice -
afternoon at home.

August llth. — Tuesday. Call on Mr. Campos, a
grocer on whom Mr. Sneyd has letter of credit and
to whom our trunks are addressed. He engages to
forward them to Barcelona when they arrive at
Valencia — give our mattresses to the poor ser-
geant. At seven o'clock in the evening we set off
in the diligence for Barcelona — one seat in the
coupe" fifteen dollars and one in the interior thirteen
dollars — we agree to change places every stage.
We take chocolate about half-past three in the night
at Castell6n de la Plana. We pass thro' Murviedro,
the ancient Saguntum.2

Wednesday, 12th. — After daybreak our road lies
within sight of the sea and at times close to the

1 This seems to be the only reference to his own use of tobacco
to be found in Irving's diaries.

2 Famous for making a heroic, though ineffectual, resistance to
Hannibal in 219 B. c.

shore. It then winds up a promontory where there is
a glorious view of various headlands and bays, watch-
towers on the rocks, towns, villages in the valleys.
We are escorted by cavalry until we reach the summit
of the promontory after which we have infantry.

After descending we keep along a narrow, rich
plain — a range of high, grey, rocky mountains to
our left — the sea to our right, with watch-towers
along its heights. At half-past six we stop at a
venta on the coast with a ruined castle above it.

At Alcald de Chisbert, so called from the old
Moorish castle of Chisbert, finely situated on a high
mountain.

Leaving this we pass thro' finely cultivated and
varied country with the dark blue Mediterranean
to our right, from which we have a pleasant breeze.
The country abounds with vineyards, figs and
other fine fruits, Indian corn, etc. Palm trees are
scattered about it.

Pass through Benicarlo and its extensive vine-
yards and stop to dine at Vinaroz at half-past one
— a good dinner — fish, flesh, fowl, and game,
fine melons, tomatoes, sweet peppers, etc., — black
wine. A Catalan at table (merchant of Barcelona)
who is gay and good humoured — vaunts of his
country. The Catalans often reply to the question,
"Are you a Spaniard?" "I am a Catalan." The
Catalan and his companion amuse themselves with
bantering a young Frenchman who had been boasting
of his good fortunes among the Spanish women.

After dinner resume our route which lies through
a beautiful country, well cultivated and adorned
with trees — cross a dry barranca, the barrier be-
tween Valencia and Catalonia — pass stone crosses
where murders had been committed — an arm of

a robber elevated on a pole and blackening in the
sun. Just before sunset arrive at the banks of
the Ebro, a turbid, yellow stream about the width
of the Seine — await the arrival of the other diligence
on opposite side. Beautiful sunset — the sun goes
down behind the Sierra of Tortosa — long, pictur-
esque mountain outlines. Fine rich country on the
opposite side of the river, with here and there a
watch-tower. (This afternoon our road lay fre-
quently along the seashore.) Cross the Ebro —
moon beginning to shine on one side of us as the
daylight declined on the other.

Pleasant walk by twilight on the plain to the
venta, nearly a mile off, by a tall watch-tower —
three shakes glide across our path. The plain is
covered with aromatic shrubs which perfume the
ah*, and is bordered by fine chains of mountains.
The venta solitary with high, round tower — the
rooms hot as the roof is low and of reeds. Pass part
of the evening by moonlight under the trees of the
Noya, a pleasant, cool resort in hot climates —
Catalan bantering the young Frenchman. Ev[enin]g
group round supper table in the venta, each taking
his individual repast. Muleteers supping in the
open air at a door at the foot of the tower.

August 18ih. — Thursday. At half-past two we
are summoned to depart. I had lain down on mat-
tress in my clothes — take chocolate. Road lies
over a high mountainous pass called the Col de

afterwards we pass another noble defile

where the road climbs zigzag up the mountain with
extensive view over the stern grey mountains. It
is called the Col de Balaguer and has been the scene
of many bloody battles. Pass thro' Cambrils on the
banks of the dry bed of a torrent.

In the course of the morning one of the mules
stops and detains the whole train in a piece of deep,
sandy road. We have to get out and wait under a
noble locust tree in a vineyard until another mule
can be procured, all coaxing and cudgelling proving
in vain with the stubborn animal.

Proceed thro' magnificent plain covered with
vineyards, orchards, olive plantations, and enliv-
ened by towns and villages. Pass thro' Tarragona
situated on an eminence command'g an extensive
view over sea and land. It is a tolerably well-
built town with a broad street running thro' it and
strong fortifications. Dine here and are well served
at the inn — a Franciscan friar, fat, rank, and
dirty, gets into the interior. Not long after leaving
Tarragona we pass under a Roman triumphal arch
in good preservation — country beautifully diversi-
fied with various cultivation — hamlets and houses
with towers — old Moorish castles — peasants smok-
ing the soil.

In the ev[enin]g passed thro' the village of

situated on a hill. This and Villafranca were the
places where the Catalonian War commenced in
1808. The inhabitants fired on the French after
they had left the place, whereupon the latter turned
back and sacked the village — terrible slaughter,
as the inhabitants defended themselves with the
fury of wild beasts. One house defended by a
father and his three sons — the latter loaded while
he fired — upwards of twenty French soldiers
killed — two (of) the sons slain. The French at
length succeeded in getting upstairs, where the
father and his remaining son fought until they were
cut to pieces. The monk in the diligence said he
was in the village the day after the battle, being

sent there to comfort some and encourage others.
The houses still burning — many of the inhabitants
had perished in the flames.

At eight o'clock arrive at Villafranca — good
posada kept by an Italian — good supper, good
room and good bed, but only enjoyed the latter
about an hour, being obliged to start about two
o'clock. Row in the posada, by a thin, ailing man
quarrelling with landlord and servant, who had
refused him chocolate because he had not taken
supper. Mine uncle and aunt in the coupe" who bilk
all the inns and travel cheap — Franciscan monk
sleeps in the diligence.

August 14th. — Friday. Travelling half-past
twelve — fine ride by moonlight — magnificent pass
over a mountain. The road broad and excellent
but without parapets and winding and passing
zigzag down vast declivities among awful cliffs and
ravines — grand sight — seven wild, mettlesome
mules scouring down the road along the huge,
jingling diligence, two or three wild-looking fellows
scampering beside them, banging with sticks and
lashes and whooping and hallowing like Indians.
Arrive at Barcelona about half -past six — fine en-
trance— great bustle — peasants trooping to town
with country produce. Put up at the Posada de
los Quatres Naciones — took a warm bath — ex-
cellent baths, well tiled. Call on Mr. Wm. Sterling,
American Consul — find him living at the top of a
high house, but in pleasant apartments looking to
the sea. He is a thin, reddish man, with carroty
hair — plain and straightforward in conversation,
helping himself at the conclusion of each sentence
with that comprehensive salve "and so forth."
Returned home and passed the day in the house

until five o'clock in the afternoon, when Mr. Ster-
ling called, and we walked with him round the
ramparts. Fine esplanade surrounding the city-
small public garden with fountains — good alameda
- beautiful view over the valley embraced by moun-
tains and entwined by hamlets, country seats -
several fine streets in Barcelona — French have
introduced great improvements here in the shops.
Returned home, took ices and retired early, being
fatigued by travelling.

August 15th. — Saturday. Assumption Day -
a holiday. At eleven o'clock walk out with Mr.
Sterling — visit the old municipality and the build-
ings of Gothic architecture — low, broad arches —
visit the Cathedral. Shrine of Saint Olegarius, for-
merly a bishop — was admitted behind the altar and
saw his body preserved in a glass case — a hideous
relique — clothed in bishop's robes — face like
a mummy — nose gone — teeth grinning — black,
withered hands covered with rings and precious
stones. When the French had possession of Barce-
lona and the Spaniards were approaching to attack
it, there was a rumour throughout the city that the
saint had raised one of his hands. It was hailed as
a sure omen of deliverance from their invaders.
Gen[era]l - — ,* an Italian general who commanded
the French army, went to the Cathedral with a de-
tach [men] t of his troops. He stationed some round
the building and entered with others. Summoning
the canons, etc., he entered the shrine of the saint
and found that his hand was actually elevated in

1 Louis Gabriel Suchet, Due d'Albutera (1770-1826), one of
Napoleon's famous marshals. Irving errs in calling him "an Italian
General," a mistake presumably due to the fact that Suchet first
won distinction in the campaigns in Italy.

a menacing manner. ' ' Come, come, ' ' said the shrewd
Italian, "this will never do. I must have that hand
down." So saying he replaced the hand upon the
breast. "And now, Saint - — ," said he, "let me
assure you one thing — if you raise your hand again,
I will not only have you hanged, but all these good
people of the Cathedral shot!" The saint never
lifted his hand afterwards.

In the Cathedral, under the grand altar, is a
crypt in which is the shrine and body of the St.
Eulalia.1 A queen once desired to look into the urn.
It was opened, but she was struck blind. She never
recovered her sight until she made a present to the
saint of a veil enriched with precious stones of im-
mense value, which is yearly carried forth in pro-
cession. There is a tradition that it will finally be
stolen from the church by a band of reapers; where-
fore, once a year, when it is carried forth, the gates
of the town are shut.

In the Cathedral are likewise the coffins of Bishop

Berenguer and , two counts of Barcelona. They

are covered with red velvet and adorned with rich,
gilded escutcheons and are supported on brackets
against the side wall of the Cathedral. In the
cloisters a curious statue in relief of a knight in
ancient armour with the Virgin and Child appear-
ing to him. Under the grand organ hangs a wooden
head of a man with goggle eyes, open mouth, and
immense beard. Once a year, upon the performance
of certain music, the mouth opens, the head wags,
and a stop of the organ imitates loud, incoherent
sounds to the great amusement of the congregation.

Called on Mr. Ryan, who acts for the British

1 Santa Eulalia, the patron saint of Barcelona, — the Roman
virgin who died a martyr's death during the reign of Diocletian.

Consul. He was not at home, but returning and
finding my card, came to the hotel — remained to
dinner with us — afterwards walked out with him
and the American] Consul to the village of Gracia.
Fine walk or avenue leads to it, between rows of
trees. Take ices at the village, which was crowded
with people from Barcelona. Returning to town,
met Capt. Brown of the - - of Boston — a gen-
tlemanlike, intelligent man — had much conversa-
tion with him — procession by taper light — fe" te
of Assumption — Cathedral illuminated — took ice
in a cafe*.

Sunday, 16th. — Surprised by a visit from Rich-
[ar]d Fred[eric]k La Saussaye, a young Irish officer
in the Royal Guards whom I had known at Madrid
— accompany him to his quarters to look at his
landscapes. Dined at the village of Gracia in the
country house of Mr. Ryan — present, Mr. - - ,
a captain of a Scotch ship — a worthy, dry Scotch-
man— has two young wild boars on board of his
ship which, at my suggestion, he promises to make
a present to Sir Walter Scott.

Return to town in a tartana with Mr. Sneyd
and go on board the Cadmus (Capt. Brown)
who had a party of Spanish ladies and gentlemen
on board — passed the evening there — a captain
of a Boston brig present — returned home about
nine o'clock.

Monday, 17th. — At nine o'clock Mr. Sterling
calls — go with him and Mr. Sneyd to the Library
of the University — to the library of a convent
containing many curious works — to the archives
of Arragon — to the church of St. Miguel where
there is a curious mosaic pavement of Tritons,
dolphins, etc., it having been a Roman temple to

Neptune. Mr. Dedel, the Dutch Minister, calls on
me — arrived the day before yesterday on his way
to Madrid. We dine at the Count d'Espagne's
— Capt. Gen[era]l of the province — present, Mr.
Dedel; Mr. Costello, Spanish Minister just from
Constantinople, and his lady; Mr. Sneyd; Mr. La
Saussaye; Mr. Ryan; the Governor; the M[in-
iste]r of Tal Majund, etc., etc. Before dinner
had conversation with the Minister from Constanti-
nople — says it is all a fable that the Sultan is son
of a French woman, or has been in France. He is
thorough Turk, knows no other language. All that
he does proceeds from the force of his own char-
acter— says the Turks have no longer belief in
fatalism — no enthusiasm — no patriotism.

Capt. Gen[era]l very affable, talkative, merry -
in one of his gay moods. Has the arg[umen]t and
jokes all his own way. He is a lion joking in his
own den. After dinner Neapolitan Consul is in-
troduced by the Governor, who comes to read a
letter he has rec[eive]d announcing the certain in-
tention of the princess1 of Naples to come to Barce-
lona. The Consul2 had been in possession of the
news for several days but pretended ignorance and
played off the Consul in high style.

Story told me by Dedel of interview the pre-
ceding day, when deputation from Capuchian
Convent waited on the Gen[era]l. He played off
the old Capuchian. "Ah, Padre," said he, "it is
many years since I have inflicted penance on my-
self and flagellated myself."

"If your Excellency will permit me to administer

1 This was the beautiful Neapolitan princess, Maria Christina,
who at this time was on her way to Madrid to become the bride of
Ferdinand VII.

2 Irving should have written "governor."

it to you," said the old monk with great humility,
"you should have no reason to complain."

Count d'Espane l discours'd of Picton. He was
a good soldier, but a very rough gentleman. We
prized him highly, but we did not like him.

The Count d'Espane is lodged in the Royal
Palace. We dined in a very large and handsome
salon — dinner a mixture of Spanish, French and
English cooking, and among the dishes were roast
beef and pluin-pudding. The Count speaks Eng-
lish and is partial to the English.

Tuesday, 18th. — At seven o'clock accompany
Mr. Dedel, Mr. Sneyd, and Mr. Ryan to Fort Mon-
juich. We are rec[eive]d by the Governor, who
takes [us] over the whole of the fortification. Re-
turn to town — our trunks have not arrived, nor
any letter giving news of them.

Visited by a young man named George C. Rew

— dine with Mr. Dedel and Sneyd. Ev[enin]g at
Mr. Ryan's read'g papers.

Return home and go to bed early.

August 19th. — Wednesday. At home all day
with Mr. Sneyd, who is ill with a fever — read
"Don Esteban" and a "Chronique du Temps de
Charles IX" — very good. .

Thursday, 20th. — Last night passed in Mr.
Sneyd's room. This morning he was better. Strolled
about the town — left card at the Capt. Gen[era]l['s]

— went on board Capt. Dobel's vessel and saw the
two wild boars — passed the rest of the day and
ev[enin]g at home.

Friday, 21st. — Overjoyed by the sight of our
trunks which came in the diligence this morning —
made arrang[ement]s for starting to-morrow for

1 Irving misspells the name here — Espagne.
95

Perpignan. Walked about the city with La Saus-
saye — called in ev[enin]g and left card for Capt.
Gen[era]l. Sent letter to G. W. Montgomery.

Saturday, 22d. — Leave Barcelona quarter before
three in the morning in the diligence for Perpignan.
We have seats in the coupe*, in which we find a
young Englishman who had crossed from Mar-
seilles to Barcelona and from thence to Valencia
and back. Beautiful journey all day thro' popu-
lous and well-cultivated country — groves — woods
— plains — mountains — drive along sea-coast.

Stop at and dined at eleven — merry doings

in the company — fine-looking waiting-maid. In
the afternoon pass thro' country resembling Eng-
land— at five o'clock arrive at Gerona. Visit the
Cathedral — tomb of Ram6n Berengar — Cabiza
de Estoba1 — plain old Gothic monument — lies on
a sarcophagus over a Gothic door — contrast with
the gilded altars in gaudy, modern taste — fine
windows of painted glass — women confessing —
whispers in twilight. Fine view over the town to
distant mountains — singular cloisters — double
row of Gothic columns — fine locust trees in centre
of the cloister — tomb of a pilgrim — three cockle
shells — 1,600 — beautiful view from the little gate
of the cloisters looking down upon a part of the
town — a bend of the river and a valley bounded
by mountains.

Supper at the hotel — fine French lad lately from
his college — talks of France — all in reference to
his college — pecM mortel eating viands on certain
days — etc., etc.

Sunday, 2Sd. — Leave Gerona at half-past two

1 Probably Cdbeza de Escoba, but no elucidation has been
found.

in the morning — fine drive by moonlight along
the Ter. The morning's road lies thro' a beautiful
green, wooded country variegated with villages,
hamlets, etc., and the Pyrenees in the distance —
at eight o'clock stop to breakfast at Figue*ras,
situated in a superb plain — small river running
thro' it — the Fortress of San Fernando built by
Fernando VI just to the left of it.

Women with stomachers and old-fashioned velvet
caps that come down over their foreheads and over
each ear — long pendants in ears. Fine road lead-
ing up the Junquera to the Spanish custom-house.
A Peseta saves the examination of our luggage. At
Puente Puerta we come to the frontier line. The
Fortress of Bellegarde commands it. Our baggage
slightly examined and sealed — proceed — pass
down zigzag road leading round precipices — our
horses going furiously — find that the drag is broken
- pass thro' part of Roussillon — see Massdieu to
our left, formerly a house belonging to the Templars.
At five o'clock come to Perpignan — lively ap-
pearance — walks in the vicinity — clean houses —
effect of seeing so many women with caps after
being accustomed to the Spanish heads.

Impossible to get passports visaed — proceed
without it, in another diligence — set off at eight
o'clock — travel all night — cold — damp.

[The note-book is then turned round, and at the other
end appear the following notes, giving an interesting
account of smugglers.]

Contrabandist^.1 Antonio, in walking with him
on our approach to Orihuela, gave me many anec-
dotes of the contrabandistas' life. He has been
several times engaged in it — particularly for a

1 Smugglers.

French dealer in dry goods on the Yucatdn. He
has his trabuco (blunderbuss) his escopeta (musket)
his sword and dagger buried. The merchant hi
Granada has his partner in Gibraltar — the latter
advises him that he has a vessel ready loaded for a
contraband enterprise. The partner in Granada
looks out for some of the most valiant and ad-
venturous of the contrabandistas, who are generally
young men. The vessel is to make a certain part
of the coast on a certain night and there to await a
concerted signal. The contrabandistas sally forth
secretly, individually and in different directions,
having their appointed place of assemblage. They are
paid one pound per day, food and wine and tobacco
in abundance. If they are to smuggle tobacco, it
is double, as that, if detected, sends a man to the
presidio.1 One man of perfect confidence is sent to
direct the whole and to carry the purse for all ex-
penses, which are often enormous. On the ap-
pointed night they assemble in the mountain, near
the specified part of the coast — sometimes to the
number of eighty. One who is to make the signal
goes with a companion or two to the appointed
place — some promontory or remarkable rock.
The signal is sometimes by suddenly displaying a
lanthern and then covering it with his cloak, re-
peating it three tunes; sometimes by striking fire
with flint and steel; sometimes by waving a torch.
When the vessel replies and all is ready to disem-
bark the cargo the signal maker returns to his
companions. They descend to the shore, the vessel
draws within cannon shot to protect them in case
they are attacked by the custom-house troops.
The goods are landed in boats strongly manned and
1 Garrison, fort.
98

armed. They are loaded on mules and horses in
the course of an hour and transported to the moun-
tains. The contrabandistas travel by day by lonely
and rugged ways and at night descend into the
main roads. They have spies in all directions who
come to them at different points and tell them the
custom-house troops are in such a place awaiting
you, upon which they fall back and take another
route. The custom-house has likewise its spies to
tell when the contrabandistas are out and in what
direction. As the contrabandistas traverse the moun-
tains one of the ablest and best-spoken descends
into the villages where there are corps of guards
and bribes the leaders.

The last time Antonio was out they were many
days conveying their loads from Malaga to Granada
— sometimes making but a league a day, as the
guards had notices that the contrabandistas were out,
and they therefore were on the look-out for them.

If attacked, they fire from their horses and fight
flying; if hi danger of being overtaken, they cut loose
their cargoes; if there is no escape, they form a square
with their horses and fire from within. Antonio
has had command of a troop and has had to throw
himself in the centre of them to keep up their cour-
age and make them fire briskly.

He was once surprised with his party early in
the morning and the guards got possession of their
horses, loads, weapons, etc. — thirty-five horses.
He and his men escaped to the mountains — he
was in V61ez Malaga when he heard that the guards
were in the posada of a village with all the spoil.
The village was in the contraband interest — the
very curate dabbled in contraband. Antonio con-
cocted his plan. He applied to six realistas and got

them to go to the village and apply for night's
lodging and then to put their muskets, bayonets,
etc., in one corner together, near those of guard.
He promised them an ounce each. He then got
together some of his men with cloaks and others with
realista uniforms. They came to the venta, applied
for accommodations, and while the leader was
talking the rest slipped in. They threw themselves
upon the arms, seized them all, presented a blun-
derbuss at the head of the commander of the guards
threatening his life if he offered to resist. Some led
forth the horses and mules and loaded them, others
took the locks off of all the guns of the. guards,
realistas, etc., but slyly returned them to the latter
with the stipulated money. They then set off
merrily on the main road, satisfied that there was
no ronda l to molest them.

The conlrabandistas of tobacco are generally in-
dividuals who own a good horse and do it on their
own account and risk. The cost and risk are too
great for it to be carried on by large speculators.

1 Round of soldiers.

100

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VIEW OF

BUILDINGS

IN CINCINNATI

From the original pencil drawing made by Washington Irving on September
3, 1832, and now for the first time reproduced. Very rare, as probably Irying's
only extant drawing having to do with an American city. It is interesting to
note how picturesque a bunding Irving characteristically discovered.

THE TOUR THROUGH THE
WEST

CONSISTING OF FIVE NOTE-BOOKS

[On the first page of the volume is a pencil sketch of
a large house with balconies and the surrounding lower
buildings. It is dated September 3d.] 1

September 3d, 1832. — Monday. Left Cincinnati
at five o'clock in the steam-boat Messenger, for
Louisville — thunder-showers, after which a re-
markably clear tract in the west — moonlight night
— mist on river — passenger on board wounded
with slash in the face.

At Cincinnati saw Mr. Wood, with whom I once
travelled in Rhode Isl[an]d.

September Jtfh. — Tuesday. Grey morning — in
the night steam-boat stops here and there where
lights gleam on the wooded shore. Stop at Madison
in Indiana — neat little place built of brick.

Old negro steward — very black, with bright
madras handkerchief on head, large feet, gold ear-
rings, shirt collar up to his ears, white jacket and
trousers, chequered apron to his armpits.

Clearings on the banks of river — solitary log
hut with corn fields among the forests — canoe by
the shore.

Arrive at Louisville half -past twelve — dine at

1 This "Cincinnati view" is Irving's only extant drawing relat-
ing to an American city, and, as such, is a decided curiosity to
collectors in this field. Cincinnati had a population of less than
25,000 at the time of the census of 1830.

101

Throgmorton. Quay of city presents a motley
scene — huts — steam-boats — carriages — heaps of
iron — of lead — leather, etc.

Take places on board the steamer Illinois
from Louisville — after going on board we run
ag[ain]st post — break some of the machinery and
have to remain all night. Called in ev[enin]g on the
mayor, Mr. Burkland, who once boarded with me
at Mrs. Ryckman's1 — Mr. Smith, etc., etc. Take
warm bath.

September 5th. — All day detained by arranging] of
machinery — after dinner drove out in comp[an]y
with fellow-travellers and Capt. Chambers to
Judge Ormsby's — poplar thirteen feet diameter —
ruin of tree forty-five feet round root — entrance,
straggling road thro' butternuts — grape vines.

A wild stream running across the land — old negro
and dogs — gateway built in stone — Swiss barn.

Wooden house among trees flanked by negro
houses — negroes of all ages.

On our approach a little negro head seen at one
of the windows of hut opposite — few chairs —
brass andirons — broken hole in ceiling over fire-
place and old litter of all kinds. Bugle sound to call
Mr. Ormsby — shy figure of negress and white
children stealing about house.

Little, well-dressed negro girl brings in salver of
peaches — fat negro wenches drying apples and
peaches on board under trees — wild gorse, flowers,
etc., about house. In neighbouring field negro boys
exercising race-horses. Flower garden — iron gate
on cotton-wood stanchions — flowers and fruits of
various kinds.

1 At 16 Broadway, New York City, where Irving and Henry
Brevoort took rooms together in 1811.

102

September 6th. — Start at nine o'clock — get to
canal — machinery deranged — get there about
three.

Evfenin]g scene on Ohio — steam-boat aground
with two flats each side of her — we take part of
cargo on board — moonlight — light of fires —
chant and chorus of negro boatmen — men stroll-
ing about docks with cigars — negroes dancing
before furnaces — glassy surface of river — un-
dulations made by boat — wavering light of moon
and stars — silent, primeval forest sleeping in sun-
shine — on each side still forest — forest — forest.

Old negro steward scolding young negro for lying
- he aims at a monopoly.

September 7th. — Friday. At five o'clock morn'g
stop to take on wood and wait till fog rises — neat
log hut — woman and children — the latter half-
civilized and ignorant — abundance round the house
— cattle, hogs, poultry, corn, forest, etc. — see
patch of cotton-plant in blossom.

Nine o'clock — river glassy — golden sunshine
on forests — rude ark rowed by one man — roofed
-with chimney, etc. Ducks in couples on the
river — cloudless sky — mellow weather — passen-
gers on board. Black Hawk — a young river dandy
-green merino short coat — domestic cloth trou-
sers — low-crowned, broad-brimmed white hat —
plays cards with a kindred genius. All serenity -
a Quakeress — the Princess Hullabulloo. 1

September 8th. — Saturday. Detained from ten
last night till seven this morn'g by fog — an intelli-
gent man comes on board — gives us ac [count] of
his farming.

Nine o'clock — serene, sunny mornin'g — clear
1 Presumably the ironical nickname of the quiet Quakeress.
103

reflection of objects — small flock of wild ducks
doubled on the stream — bland atmosphere.

Pass Diamond Island — well wooded. Near
Wabash — horses ranging along sandy shore —
long glassy reach of river — smoke rising on sunny
shore. Stop for wood near Wabash on Virginia
side — negro woman in log hut — who cooks for
the men who get wood — a cheerful, contented
being — plenty to eat and drink — good whistling

— no one to worry or trouble her — does not think
she'll marry again. Mr. Ellsworth1 asked about
her children, but the tears started into her eyes —
she got up — crossed the hut — "I am not allowed
to live with them — they are up at the plantation."
Pourtales2 killed a raccoon in the woods adjacent.

Half-past one pass mouth of the Wabash — farm
on left bank opposite the mouth a wooded island -
Wabash Island.

Wabash enters peacefully into the peaceful river

— water clear, greenish-blue — Ohio yellow. Men
on sand-bar with a seine sack.

Aground near natives' house — slow boat on the
Illinois shore with flag — groups assembled there —
rifle shooting — horse race along shore — negro
laugh — sunset — party breaks up — some in boat
across glassy river singing ballad — others on
horseback through the woods — some on foot —
some loiter on the shore — beautiful, clear ev[e-
ninjg sky — moon nearly full — rising over the Vir-
ginia, shore above tufted forests — night hawks.
Gross plenty that prevails throughout the country

— in hotels, steam-boats, etc. — meats, poultry,

1 Henry Leavitt Ellsworth (1791-1856), Resident Commissioner
among the Indian tribes.

2 Pourtales and Charles Joseph Latrobe, the English traveller
(1801-1875), accompanied Irving on his Western trip.

104

vegetables, excellent bread, pies, puddings — food
seems to be wasted — as if of no value.

Passengers in steam-boat from every part of
Union — merch[an]t from N. York — smug, dapper,
calculating Yankee — reckless, boastful Virginian

— Black Hawk from Kentucky — a Swiss count.
September 9th. — Sunday. Still aground — go to

shore — log house with corn field in wood — man
and his wife from Philadelphia County — good-
looking man and woman — children decently clad

— been here fifteen years — if it were to be done
over would not come here — no means of educat-
ing his children — wants neighbours — people in
neighbourhood rough and rude — some live by
hunting, poaching, etc. — says he finds a great
difference in himself since he has been here — sons
prefer hunting to learning — pays one and one half
dollfa]rs an acre for land — Indiana corn fifteen
feet high.

Stop at log house on the shore — pretty, delicate
woman from near Nashville, Tennessee — wishes
herself back — no church in neighbourhood — peo-
ple rude. If there comes a Quaker the rude fellows
pelt him, cut his horse loose, and play all kinds of
tricks. Her husband a good-looking young man —
has lease for four years, after which will return to
Tennessee.

The fe'te yesterday was shooting for merchandise
and a pedlar's bout — a quarrel occurred and fight-
ing.

Enormous sycamore — cotton-wood trees, etc.

— vines — white cranes.

Get off at three o'clock — see land at Rock Cave

— a limestone cavern — nine o'clock ev[enin]g ar-
rive at mouth of Cumberland River — land pas-

105

sengers — get aground and remain aground all
night.

September, 10th. — Monday Eight o'clock still
aground — shower of rain — procure keel boat
from Smithland to take part of cargo and at half-
past twelve get off — fat old fellow in flat rowed by
negroes — with cargo of flour to sell. After dinner
stop at Paducah, a small village or town quite
new — court holding in piazza of post-office —
judge in linsey corduroy coat and trousers — deer-
skin sandals with hat on — seated in chair lolling
back — farmers discussing their cause with hats on.
Meet with an Irishman who has been out six years
— fifty-six years of age — lets me know immediately
that he is a rich emigrant — talks of his neighbour
Lord Castlereagh,1 who was the greatest statesman
in Europe.

Take on board here a little Frenchman and his
wife who are rolling a big box through the country
like a pair of tumblers. He is a blacksmith — she
kept a caf 6 in Touraine — natives of Tours — be-
guiled out here by Frenchman, the same Lucas2 who
had bought land in Kentucky and represented it as
a paradise — from turnpike could meet diligence
every day — the very place to set up blacksmith
shop and caf 6 — tells her to bring all the linen she
could. The little French[man] and his wife packed
up all their worldly effects in three small boxes,
bundled up their bed and embarked — landed at
New Orleans — good opportunity presented to fix
themselves, but rec[eive]d letter from then1 friend
pressing them to come on — embarked in steam-boat

1 Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, second Marquis of
Londonderry, born 1769, committed suicide 1822.

2 Frederick Lucas, one of Napoleon's soldiers, who came to
America after Waterloo, finally settling in the West.

106

- arrived at the promised land and found it a
wilderness covered with trees — the fine roads were
tracks thro' forest — the diligence a stage waggon
that plied two months in year when there was no
steam-boat. They re-embark to return to New
Orleans.

A little Canadian who had been passenger on our
boat hitherto was making arrangement with cap-
tain for them and wanted to know if no one on board
spoke French. I offered my services.

Eight at night — arrive at Caledonia — at the
point of confluence of Mississippi and Ohio — land
part of cargo. Little Frenchman and wife go ashore
-I speak to the landlord for them and put them
under care of a passenger — rolled their big box up
bank — carried bedding up to inn — little French-
man remained on bank — put all his boxes to-
gether — lit fire — mounted guard by moonlight —
left him humming tune and watching.

At one o'clock at night get under way — enter
Mississippi by moonlight — (Mem: This ev[enin]g
a splendid sunset on Ohio — full moon rose from
behind forest, attended by a virgin star).

September llth. — Tuesday. On the Mississippi

- broad, turbid stream — sand-bars — low, allu-
vial shores with forests — chemin de forge of snags

-streaming files of ducks and geese. Half-past
eight land for wood on Missouri side — corn field,
where crops of corn have been raised for thirty-
eight years successively, without manure — rich
covering — sandy soil — level — sound, rich corn
twenty rows on a cob — country still lonely —
travellers — some adventurers embark without
money — are put ashore at wood piles — remain
there till next boat comes along — hoist a hand-

107

kerchief on pole — taken on board — boat under
way — too late to set them ashore — carry them
to next pile — so they work then* way from wood
pile to wood pile.

Woman with family of children appeals to cap-
t[ain] — occasionally get passage for nothing — a
subscription among passengers. Illinois merch[an]t
on board — says he trusts for a year — then twenty-
five per cent. If man won't pay, he hangs about
him like fever and ague, whispering to him until
he pays — does not lose above five per cent.

Go to farmhouse — woman spinning — young
lad sitting idle — their beds in room — full of negro
children — fat little round-shaped one cries — the
lad tells another child to amuse it by rolling ball on
floor — have lived here thirty-three years — man
says he never struck a negro since he was a boy —
would not sell one unless the negro wished to go
away.

House open to the weather — pigs, fowls, corn,
vegetables, fruit — fine well of water — neighbour-
ing cypress swamp — deer, bears, panthers, wild
cats — turkeys in abundance — no snakes. Wind
now — pure, soft air. Frenchman the same Lucas
who came to Touraine in grand way one winter
and has not a negress.

Pass limestone cliffs looking like old castle towers

— light foliage below — wild ducks — sand-bars

— after sunset stop at apple orchard — Mr. Kem-
mel's new store and house — thriving place —
children ill with fever — wife "first-rate woman"
educated in convent about eighteen miles off —
where there is also a seminary. She is from Ken-
tucky.

Saw at the landing a negro merchant thirty-six
108

years old — going to New Orleans with forty doz.
fowles — had canoe or boat with corn to feed them
-goes down in steam-boat — gets passage for
nothing from some — buys one dollar doz. sells
three dollars — has followed the business twelve
years — brings back nothing but money — pays
his master fifty dollars a year — lays up money to
buy himself free — buries it — cannot buy himself
till next year — has wife and children but cannot
buy them — means to go far where he can make
most money, but means to see his wife and children
occasionally and take care of them.

The lady of the house says that there are dif-
ferent meetings here — Catholic, Presbyterian,
Methodist, etc.

Beautiful moonrise on Illinois — fire of wood-
man at front of island — red-yellow moon — silver
star — calm, cobalt-green sky reflected in river —
here and there at distances a solitary light twinkles
down from some big house among the trees.

Moon regent of lakes and woods.

September 12th. — Wednesday. Fog comes in
about half -past four — stop at wood yard a few miles
above Kaskaskia River — visit log house — people
from Louisiana — discouraged at the coldness of
climate here — soil abundant — game plenty —
hunt turkeys by moonlight — the settlers — mother
anxious to return to Louisiana. Ste. Genevieve
fine level with range of hills behind it to the
north — one of the oldest French settlements —
people live in the village where the houses are
private property — 20,000 acres in front in com-
mon — each one has a right to cultivate a portion
for his own use — strangers apt to marry the Ste.
Genevieve girls to get the right — college on hill

109

back of the town — above the settlement pretty
openings and views as through side scenes of a
theatre — low banks of cotton trees — willows, etc.

At Ste. Genevieve tall man comes on board with
saddle-bags, steel traps, bundle — conducted by
man in blanket coat and moccasins — turns out to
be Col. Monard, who accompanied Atwater1 on the
Indian expedition.

Herculaneum — store — shot tower on brink of
limestone precipice — beautiful precipice of lime-
stone like towers of ruined castles, with many-
tinted Virginia creeper hanging about the cold grey.
Land on island — immense cotton-wood trees —
Uncle Sam's land, with poachers cutting and selling
wood.

Ev[enin]g, nine o'clock — crash! A steam-boat,
the Yellowstone, coming down the stream at the
rate of fifteen miles an hour runs on us and staves in
the upper works of our side — the wheel box —
general alarm — some think the boat sinking —
Kentucky lady threw herself in her husband's
arms — alarm subsides — make for land to repair
damages and mend wheel — speech of black fire-
man: "They have torn the d b all to salad."

Arrive at St. Louis about eleven — sleep on
board.

September 13th. — Thursday. St. Louis — mix-
ture of French and American character — French
billiard room — market-place where some are speak-
ing French, some English — put up at Union Hotel
— see Mr. Chouteau2 pere et fils — Dr. O'Dwyer —
Judge Peck — Mr. Bates.

1 Caleb Atwater (1778-1867), Indian Commissioner under Presi-
dent Jackson.

2 Pierre Chouteau (1749-1849), the pioneer. He and his elder
brother, Auguste, were the founders of St. Louis.

110

Drive out to Gov. Clark's1 — cross prairie —
flowering and fragrant shrubs — the Governor's]
farm — small cottage — orchard bending and break-
ing with loads of fruit — negroes with tables under
trees preparing meal — fine sitting-room in open
air — little negroes whispering and laughing —
civil negro major-domo who asks to take horses
out — invites me to walk in the orchard and spreads
table with additional cover — sitting-room — rifle
and game bag, etc., in corners — Indian calumet
over fireplace — remains of fire on hearth, showing
that morn'g has been cool — lovely day — golden
sunshine — transparent atmosphere — pure breeze.

Fine nut trees, peach trees, grape vines, etc., etc.,
about the house — look out over rich, level plain or
prairie — green near at hand — blue line at the horizon

- universal chirp and spinning of insects — fertility
of country — grove of walnuts in the rear of the
house — beehives — deer cote — canoe — Gen[era]l
arrives on horseback with dogs — guns. His grand-
son on a calico pony hallowing and laughing —
Gen[era]l on horseback — gun on his shoulder —
cur — house dog — bullying setter.

Gov. Clark fine, healthy, robust man — tall —
about fifty — perhaps more — his hair, originally
light, now grey — falling on his shoulders — frank

- intelligent — his son a cadet of W. P. now hi the
army — aide-de-camp to Gen[era]l Atkinson.

Dinner plentiful — good — hut rustic — fried
chicken, bacon and grouse, roast beef, baked pota-

1 William Clark (1770-1838), of a famous Revolutionary family.
He is best remembered as the military director of Captain Lewis's
expedition across the Rocky Mountains. In 1807 he was appointed
by Congress as Brigadier-General for the Territory of Upper
Louisiana. Thus Irving sometimes calls him "General" and some-
times "Governor."

Ill

toes, tomatoes, excellent cakes, bread, butter,
etc., etc.

Gov. C. gives much excellent information con-
cerning Indians.

His slaves — set them free — one he placed at a
ferry — another on a farm, giving him land, horses,
etc. — a third he gave a large waggon and team of
six horses to ply between Nashville and Richmond.
They all repented and wanted to come back.

The waggoner was York, the hero of the Mis-
souri expedition and adviser of the Indians. He
could not get up early enough in the morn'g — his
horses were ill kept — two died — the others grew
poor. He sold them and was cheated — entered
into service — fared ill. "Damn this freedom/'
said York, "I have never had a happy day since I
got it." He determined to go back to his old master—
set off for St. Louis, but was taken with the cholera in
Tennessee and died. Some of the traders think
they have met traces of York's crowd, on the
Missouri.

Returned by another route escorted by young
Clark — ride thro' prairie — flowers — waggon -
huts, etc. — pass by a noble farm — every thing in
abundance — pass by a circle of Indian mounds — on
one of them Gen[era]l Ashley has built his house so
as to have the summit of it as a terrace in the rear.

St. Louis — old rackety gambling house — noise
of the cue and the billiard ball from morning till
night — old French women accosting each other
in the street.

September 14th. — Friday. Drive out with Judge
Peck, Judge's uncle, and our party to Fort Jeffer-

112

son to see Black Hawk1 — ride thro' open country

- formerly forest — drive to Gen[era]l Atkinson's
quarters.

Black Hawk — old man upwards of seventy with
aquiline nose — finely formed head — organs of
benevolence — his two sons — oldest a fine-look-
ing young man — his brother-in-law the prophet2

- the little Indian stables.

They are all chained arms and ankles with cannon,
but are allowed to walk about escorted by soldier.

Old French town nicknamed Vuide Poche3 — old
French settlers retain their dress, manners, etc. —
cared little for money or lands, but avaricious about
their negroes. Met two or three tunes a week to
dance — very sober and temperate tho' gay —
kept aloof from Americans but begin to intermarry
with them.

Black Hawk — had a skin of a black hawk in his
hand and fanned himself with the tail.

[Turning the note-book around and beginning from
the other end, we find the following notes, some of which
are jottings from Irving' s reading in connection with
his Western tour.]

Cumberland Mountains] — sunny, enchanted
mount[ain]s.

On some spires of the Cumberland Mount[ain]s,
called the Enchanted Mount[ain]s, are marked in
the solid limestone footsteps of men, horses, and

1 This famous chief of the Sac and Fox tribes had surrendered
on August 27th, 1832, after many battles with forces of the United
States. He was taken through various cities before being confined,
in 1833, in Fortress Monroe. Irving thus saw the old Indian warrior
within a fortnight after his capture.

1 This "prophet," White Cloud, was the chief agent in the Indian
disturbances of that period. He is not usually set down as Black
Hawk's brother-in-law.

» "Empty Pocket." "Vuide," old spelling of "Vide."

113

other animals, as fresh as tho' recently made, and
as distinct as tho' impressed upon clay moisture.
The tracks often indicate that the feet which made
them had slidden, as would be the case in descend-
ing declivities in soft clay. They are precisely of
the same class with the impress of two human feet
found in a block of solid limestone, quarried on the
margin of the Mississippi. The manner in which
they were produced is utterly inexplicable.

Flint1 Essay, Vol. 11, "Tennessee."
Screaming of the jay in the solitudes of the woods
and mountains. Pine woods — solemn sound of
the wind thro' them — no whispering among leaves.
Few evergreens in the west — objected [to] by Mrs.
Trollope2 — a sign of futility. The cypress grows in
deep and sickly swamps — the haunts of fevers,
mosquitoes, moccasin snakes, alligators, and all
loathsome and poisonous animals, etc.

It loves the deepest, most gloomy and inaccessi-
ble and inundated swamps, and south of 33° is
generally found covered with the sable festoons of
long moss, hanging, as it seems, a shrowd of mourn-
ing wreaths almost to the ground. It flourishes
best where water covers its roots for half the year.

Flint, Vol. 1, p. 62.

Hunter's ac[count] of himself — his father's log
hut solitary on margin of river, surrounded by forest

— mode of living, careless — plenty — shot deer,

1 Timothy Flint (1780-1840), missionary and author, whose
"Geography and History of the Mississippi Valley" did much to
advance the development of that region. Irving's quotations are
not meticulously accurate.

2 Referring (with a sense of humour) to the English novelist,
Mrs. Frances Trollope's famous work that had just been published

— the "Domestic Manners of the Americans," a work in which
the lady objected to a great deal on this continent and, as a result,
was herself objected to by most Americans.

114

wild turkey — children half wild — without educa-
tion — two or three books which they could not
read.

Big rivers — all peaceful and gentle — Ohio -
little rivers noisy and unruly — invincible strength
of big, giant rivers.

Two Kentuckians quarrelling — one says, "Put
down that rock and I'll fight you." The rock was
a stone as big as an apple.

Double-barrel[le]d gun — mighty little giving
about the lock.

Moon — handmaid, a virgin star.

Missouri — fifty miles above confluence of Ohio
and Mississippi.

Indian corn — thirty-eight years successive crops
— ground rich — twenty rows.

Negro driving team of seven oxen hi Louisville
exclaims — "Get along, you fat, money-making
rascals."

Negroes — some prefer hoeing — others plough-
ing — others driving waggons — some dislike wag-
goning because they have to take care of the cattle
at night and on Sunday. Merriest people in these
parts — if you hear a broad, merry laugh, be sure
it is a negro — politest people — fine gentlemen.1

Evil of negroes — they may be parted from their
children — but are not white people so, by school-
ing, marriage, business, etc?

Observation of French trader in West Indies on
shutting up country house: "If I could go home and
not think till morning, I should be a happy man,
but this thinking will kill me."

1 This is a remarkable phrase. Because of their good humour and
their good manners, the courteous Irving speaks of the negroes as
"fine gentlemen."

115

Ice spring between Niagara and Hamilton -
frozen in summer — thawed in winter.

Illinois — famous for children and dogs — in
house with nineteen children and thirty-seven dogs.

Cherokees and Kickapoos used to say will fight,
fight, fight, until we are all dead and then our bones
will fight together — but they are now neighbours
and friends thro' necessity.

The various western tribes call the Delaware their
grandfather and mediator. If one kills another,
a friend, relative of the murderer, hastens to the
Delaware who interposes and prescribes a certain
quantity of wampum to cover the deceased.

Indians never quarrel and fight when sober — only
when in liquor — and then lay it all to whisky.
When one kills another he considers himself doomed
— sometimes mounts his horse and proclaims it -
but says, "Come and take me who can."

September 26th. — Wednesday. Independence.
Arrived at the Globe Hotel — Mr. Dodge, a former
missionary, among the Osages, comes in a covered
waggon with his son, etc. — disagreed with the
Indians — is settled near the White Hairs -
among the Osages — keeps school — feathers his
nest. The Southern Indians more shrewd and in-
telligent than the Northern. Mr. McCoy — son of
missionary — employed as surveyor.

September 27th. — Thursday. This morn'g Mr.
Ellsworth and Dr. O'Dwyer arrive in old, flimsy
carriage with two horses driven by a tall negro —
had left the steam-boat aground and come by
land.

Preparation — packing of waggons — Gen[era]l
Clark — clergymen the only class of people on earth
that he hates — thinks we ought not to set our

116

faces against Indians stealing horses — must not
shut up only road left them to honour and pro-
motion.

Waggons set off at half-[past] two o'clock. —
Mr. Ellsworth and Mr. Latrobe1 set off about three
with Gen[era]l Clark for Mr. McCoy's — I set off
at three with Mr. Chouteau, Pourtales, and the
D[octo]r.

Lose our way in the prairies2 — after a while get
to where the waggons are stationed by Mr. Yates

- scene at Mr. Yates' — log hut — large fire —
tell stories to children.

Camp — fire — meat roasted on sticks — savory

- our salon of trees lighted up by fire — sky and
stars in centre — bat flitting across — faces of
men and black boy roasting meat — greyhound
with spectral face — we sit on bear skins — the
meat put on spits before us — cut it off with knife
and eat — coffee — Mr. Yates comes and sits with
us — tall, strong, pleasant-faced fellow — stretch
a tent on cords — spread our mats and sleep — Mr.
Chouteau sleeps at foot of tree — Dr. O'Dwyer in
waggon — men on blankets with feet to fire.

Friday, 28th. — At peep of day fire made in the
camp — preparations for cooking — water bro[ught]
from neighbouring brook — dogs prying about
for food — showers of rain — mats, etc., spread
over waggons — day breaks — find ourselves in a
light grove on the edge of a prairie.

Horses led in strings to water — man riding
one, leading other — whooping to hounds who
follow.

1 When this English traveller published, in 1835, "The Rambler
in North America, he dedicated the work to Washington Irving.

1 Throughout his manuscript, Irving spelled this word "praries"
and "prarie."

117

, Breakfast like supper — spits placed before us as
we sit on mats and cut off strips.

Leave at quarter to eight — ride along ridge
and over grassy prairie — meet people going to
camp meeting — encamp at twelve beside a brook
to wait for Ellsworth and Latrobe who are to come
in by McCoy's trail. A couple of bee hunters ar-
rive at the brook, with waggon driven by four
oxen — with barrels, etc., to contain honey -
going to Grand River about two days' journey from
Independence — all the country down here being
hunted out — bee hunter — twenty-three years of
age — plaid upper coat — tan cloth trousers with
deer skin tied over them — his companion lying
in waggon with rifle — prairie hen that they had
shot.

Midday camp — men dispersed cutting wood —
one making fire — blowing up spark among dry
leaves — horses turned loose — some bridled, others
free-rolling on grass — saddles put round foot of
tree — dogs scattered about nosing and prying —
Dr. O'Dwyer dragging dry branches — wind rust-
ling thro' tree tops but passing over the hollow in
which we are placed — dogs lying down watching
with hungry eye all the cooking operations.

At dinner — stories, jokes, etc. — after dinner
another gang of bee hunters — waggon — four
oxen — two saddle horses — long fellow with rifle
— two younger ones with rifles — says they get
thirty-seven cents gallon for honey — collect 100
or 150 gal [Ion] s — go for amusement as much
as anything else, being a time of year they have
little to do — shoot deer, elk, etc., for their
food.

In the ev[enin]g Mr. Ellsworth, Mr. Latrobe,
118

and young Mr. McCoy arrive with another dear-
born waggon1 — encamp for the night.

Saturday, 29th. — Start after breakfast — Mr.
Younger who was to have driven our new dear-
born deserts — Mr. Ellsworth drives — road winds
along a ridge — with prairie sloping down into
beautiful copses.

Stop at log house — pretty young married
woman with pretty sister and fine child. Encamp
at midday after eighteen miles — in pine grove —
repast under tree — preparations of guns — La-
trobe arranging plants — dogs lying about — plan
for Antoine2 to go deer hunting while we journey
this afternoon — yelping of young hounds — wind
rushing thro' trees — fire at our kitchen at foot of
gigantic old tree, threatening to undermine and
bring it down — autumnal tint of trees.

Ev[enin]g encampt about five o'clock on a
beautiful plat of land made by the winding of a
sluggish brook — fine oak and walnuts — herbage
full of flowers — opposite banks of brook fine
woods — Mr. Latrobe saw two stags — Antoine
returns without game.

Barking of dogs at wolves prowling round the
camp — hooting of owl — pond nuts like fresh
almonds — dined buffalo meat — rich.

Sunday, SOlh. — Morning, rise before daybreak

1 Webster's Dictionary defines this, "A four-wheeled carriage,
with curtained sides."

1 Irving describes this French-Osage half-breed in Chapter III
of "A Tour on the Prairies." "He was to be a kind of Jack-of-all-
work; to cook, to hunt, and to take care of the horses; but he had
a vehement propensity to do nothing, being one of the worthless
brood engendered and brought up among the missions. He was,
moreover, a little spoiled by being really a handsome young fellow,
an Adonis of the frontier, and still worse by fancying himself highly
connected, his sister being concubine to an opulent white trader 1"

119

— breakfast by light of fire — day breaks thro'
forest.

After breakfast set off with Pourtales on horse-
back ahead of the rest to look for prairie hens —
Mr. Latrobe precedes us on foot.

Scale a hill — limestone rock and stones full of
shells and miniature basalt like Giant's Causeway

— boundless view of silent prairies — distant hill
like Pat6 de Strasbourg.1 Overtake Latrobe twelve
miles off by a brook — waggons do not arrive —
wait for them — scene on knoll — lying among
prairie grass with guns — dogs — game — horses
grazing by us — one and the other go alternately as
scouts to edge of distant hill to look out for waggons

— give up hopes of being rejoined and resume our
route — Mr. Latrobe on foot — Pourtales and
myself on horseback — fatiguing ride — wide, bare
prairies — small strips of woodland — twelve miles
further on come on a clearing in wood — log house

— Mr. Fuller of East Hadham — his wife daughter
of Dr. , of Philadelphia — hospitable recep-
tion — good wife busy baking cakes — gets dinner
for us — countryman arrives who brings tidings
from the camp — horses had strayed. While at
dinner Mr. Ellsworth arrives — then Col. Chouteau
and d[octo]r. Take leave of Mr. Fuller, who re-
fuses compensation — ride with Mr. Latrobe by
moonlight to Harmony Mission — arrive at Mr.
Bright's — kind reception — blazing fire — half-
breed Indian girl who waits on us — Mr. Requa
a missionary.

Quartered at night with Mr. Jones, missionary
who teaches girls — several Indian girls in the

1 This has reference to the shape of the famous goose liver pdtfa
made in Strassburg.

120

house — one about eleven — very pretty — ev[e-

nin]g prayer — examination of children in chapter

of Bible — neat log house well furnished — forty

children at Harmony — school kept by Mr. Jones

- Indian children good at writing, ciphering, and

geography.

October 1st. — Monday. Dinner at Mr. Austin's

— boys at table on one side — girls the other -
comp[anjy in centre — rich beef — beautiful honey

— cakes — vegetables.

Osage River — clear stream — willow banks -
navigable in part of year for steam-boats — Har-
mony about 500 miles from mouth.

Leave Harmony at three o'clock — cavalcade -
four waggons — horsemen led horses — we hire a
half-breed called Broken Hoof — Mr. Chouteau
hires another — crossing of the Osage River —
group of Indians on a knoll looking on.

Camp after sunset in a beautiful grove at the
foot of immense trees — by a brook opposite a
prairie — moonlight — owl hoots — prairie wolf
howls — barking of dogs — bells of our horses
among the trees — supper — beef, roast ducks,
and prairie hens — others boiled. Fine effect of
half moon among lofty trees — fire of camp with
guides, Indians and others round it — dogs lying
on grass — waggons — tents by fire light — groups
of attendants lying at foot of trees and round fires.

Farm in neighbourhood — Mr. Summer — river

— Little Osage — Ugatagakuge monsahn1 — mean-
ing " where there is much dogwood."

1 These and other Indian words have been transcribed as well
as Irving's handwriting and the transcriber's ignorance of the
Indian tongues quoted would permit. In view of the fact that
Irving himself may have blundered at the start, and of the slight
importance of the details themselves, it has not seemed necessary

121

October M — Tuesday. Cold but beautiful
morn'g — revive the fires — dogs creeping round
fire and into tent — whipped off with many a yelp

— sun breaks among pine trees — winding stream
near by. Yesterday passed place of old Osage
camp near branch of Osage River — wild plum
trees — beautiful prairie — river where they fought

the into the stream, and killed them with

knives — the plain deserted — over-grown with
sumach, hazel-nut, wild plum — prairie silent and
lifeless.

In the course of the morning we see a prairie
wolf in the distance — half -breed Indians instantly
on the qui vive — mount my pony (I being in the
waggon) — general gallop across the prairie —
Henry Clay the greyhound in full chase — Mr.
Chouteau sends half-breed boy mounted to turn
the wolf, but Pourtales dashes straight forw[ar]d
and makes the wolf keep ahead so as to escape —
returning we start a deer, which after a run couches
in a hollow and we lose him.

A few miles further we see another prairie wolf
beside a ravine near the road — all set off in chase

— Mr. Chouteau and the doctor head him —
come to a bare, burnt patch of prairie — the grey-
hound gets sight of him — fine race — hound
turns him — manceuvers and fight between wolf
and hound — horsemen come up with [them] and
try to trample on him — fighting retreat of wolf —
Pourtales fires one barrel of his gun — breaks
wolf's leg — we surround and kill him.

Beautiful sight of hunt. Horsemen galloping

to submit the passages in question to the judgment of experts. We
may add that some little investigation of this first Indian phrase
cited by Irving leaves us as dubious of his competence in such
matters, as we are certain of our own incompetence.

122

over green prairie — golden sunshine — Antoine
towards the conclusion of chase leaves his waggon,
mounts his stallion, and comes thundering along
bringing up a corps de secours of bull-dog, cur, etc.

A few miles further on we pass a run of water -
here Broken Hoof visits cabin of his mother and
determines to return — pay him off — just then a
half-breed (Joseph), whom Mr. Chouteau had left
word to follow us, arrives and takes his place. He
is accomp[anie]d by an old Indian — tueur du vil-
lage — from having, with a party he commanded,
surprised and massacred a whole village — Indian
with his bald head and single tuft of hair — strings
of beads hanging from the upper part of his ears —
his shoulders and bust bare — blanket swathed
round his body — leather leggings and moccasins
- mounted on strong black horse — carries his
rifle athwart.

Encamp and dine in a thicket of trees — then
perform journey of seventeen miles across wide,
naked prairie — extensive prospect from a hill —
ridge beyond ridge in smoky distance — Indian
points it out — pass Pawnee Hill where five
Pawnees defended themselves ag[ain]st large party
of Osages — see two prairie wolves which escape
— white cloud of smoke from burning prairie —
sun enters into smoke — spur on to light fires —
limestone country. Wind by moonlight down
into wood — pass thro' it to bank of brook where
we make fire and, where joined by carriages —
encamp.

Story of Antoine and the two kegs of powder be-
hind him on horse with which he dashed thro'
prairie on fire.

Encamped at Pawnee Creek — branch of Osage.
123

Old Osage Indian — killer of village — great
warrior — chief — at present ambassador to pro-
cure a bag of nails.

October 3d. — Wednesday. Beautiful morn'g —
breakfast scene — men round pans and kettles —
groups of little hounds looking on — growling and
snapping of large dogs — now and then yelping
from a scourged cur.

At daybreak Indian gets up — mounts his horse
and away — Osages never eat early in morning
when travelling — stop about ten or eleven for
that purpose.

In the course of the morning we meet various
parties of Osages, men and women, on hunting ex-
peditions — women leading horses — with pack-
ages — skins for beds, meat, corn or papooses
and puppy dogs in the packages — lads with bows
and rifles walking — fine, erect port of Osage war-
riors — noble attitudes — meet Osage interpreter
- with wife and daughters — the former a daugh-
ter of Chouteau. Squaws riding with umbrellas -
warm day — wide, treeless prairie — trembling with
heat — columns of smoke hanging lazily in various
directions on horizon — kindled by Indians to drive
the game to the prairies. Encamp about eleven at
clear brook — party of Indians, squaws and chil-
dren encamp by us — squaws cutting wood and
dragging great branches of trees.

Our dinner, surrounded by Indians — groups
of squaws and children who keep somewhat aloof.

Ride twelve miles after dinner to Rev. N.
Dodge's house — near Osage village — put up at
the house — comfortable — tea furnished by Mrs.
Dodge — young Osage couple in the neighbour-
hood, the girl well educated at Harmony Mission

124

— the young man but slightly educated — re-
cently married — undertaking farming — their rela-
tives come to see them, camp before the door
and eat them out of house and home — young man
cannot help giving away provisions, etc., to his
tribe. When we visited them we found two In-
dians (man and wife) lying at a fire kindled before
the house.

Indian we met to-day in mourning — dirt on his
face — does not eat till sunset. The dead are
painted white and other colours when buried.

A chief lately deceased was buried sitting up
under a mound.

We spread our skin beds on the floor of room in
house — Antoine, etc. — light a fire — cook their
supper and sleep under trees. "Every one has his
caprice," said Antoine, "for my part I think it
much better to camp here."

Intense curiosity with which an Indian watches
Dr. O'Dwyer while he shaves — beautiful, clear
river by Mr. Dodge's.

October 4th. — Thursday. Leave Mr. Dodge's
at three quarters past seven provided with large
family loaf of bread — we have a journey of thirty
miles to make over open prairie before we can
find a camping place, there being water in the in-
terim but no wood — pass thro' the village of the
White Hair (Osages) — monument of chief who
died lately — mound on a hill surrounded by rail-
ing — three poles with flags — trophies — a scalp,
scalping knife, etc. He had killed four Pawnees.
While looking at it an Indian approached and
stood by the tomb — a relation of the deceased.
After we had rode on we saw him standing like a
statue by the tomb. Passed over vast prairie —

125

here not a tree or shrub was to be seen — a view
like that of the ocean.

Mr. Chouteau and Pourtales (who had left us
yesterday at the dining place to go to the Agency)
rejoined us, with three spare horses. About three
o'clock arrived at a grove on the banks of stream
and encamp — place called La Bete — wood en-
tangled with rich underwood — grape vines — pea
vines, etc. Fine trees — flights of Perroquets —
called La Bete, or The Beast, because the Indians
saw a great and terrible animal there, the like of
which they never saw before or since.

Story told by Col. Chouteau lying at the foot
of a tree.

Wagrathka e abbe — creek — next to this creek
is Nickanansor. A tribe of Indians hunting in that
creek struck their tents to come on this — a young
man who had been to St. Louis returned to the
creek and came to the encampment — found it
deserted — a young girl alone there — to whom he
was engaged to be married — "Where is the
camp?" "It is struck. They are gone to such a
place." "And what are you doing here?" "Wait-
ing for you." He gave her his bundle and walked
ahead according to Indian custom — approaching
the camp the girl sat down at foot of a tree and
said, "I will wait here. It is not proper for us to
return together." He entered the town — told
his sister to go after the girl — she is dead — died
a few days since. His relatives surrounded him
weeping and confirmed the story. He returned
with them to the tree. The girl was gone — the
bundle lay there — the young man fell dead.

A little girl at White Hair had died — they
buried with her her playthings — she had a

126

favourite little horse — they killed and buried her
with it.

An old squaw left alone when her party had
gone hunting prayed the Great Spirit to make
something to amuse her — he made the mosquito.1

Pawnee Boy. At Mr. Chouteau's agency there
is a Pawnee boy twelve years of age who is anxious
to run away and return to his own people. They
fear if he did he would reveal where the horses
were kept, etc., and all the secrets of this land.
He has a sister with whom he is always plotting in
Pawnee language. Once, when seven years old,
he ran away with horses, but was retaken. He was
told, "If you run away again we will send twelve
Osage boys with bows and arrows to shoot you."
"Give me," said he, "twelve arrows and let your
boys come and we'll see wjio has the worst of it."

Chattering and laughing of the Frenchmen -
half-breeds at their meat — Mr. Chouteau lying
at foot of tree and joining in — screaming of flights
of parrots — snapping and quarrelling of dogs -
moonlight vista thro' the forest — distant dewy
tint of trees — hooting of screech-owl — Col. Chou-
teau remarks superstition of Indians when an
owl is heard several nights. They think it follows
the encampment and forebodes the death of one
of the party.

These creeks empty into the Neosho.

Friday, 5th. — Towards morning rain and thun-
der — holds up about daybreak. An Indian
visits us — encamped about a mile distant -
attracted by the tinkling of our horse bells — had

1 A rare instance of Indian sense of humour, and a satisfying
solution of the problem as to the justification for the existence of
the mosquito.

127

been hunting yesterday and killed two small
deer.

After a while he departed to his camp — from
whence three Indians came and brought pieces of
fresh venison. Col. Chouteau made them presents
of tobacco.

Leave enc[a]mp[men]t at ten — ride all day
over wide, monotonous prairies — cry given of a
wolf at a distance — saw something seated on a
hill — all hands on the alert ; flankers sent out -
turned out to be a solitary Indian who begged for
food — gave him biscuit — gave us the disagree-
able intelligence that all the Osages had departed
some time since from Fort Gibson, on their buffalo
hunt. Showers in the distance — lowering sky -
ride after dark across gloomy plain — descend
into thick grove and encamp for the night.

Saturday, 6th. — Soft morning — misty — beau-
tiful forest — large trees intertwined with grape
vines and clambering vines — rich verdure —
yesterday saw prickly pears — sent Joseph the
half-breed on foraging party among the groves —
brought rich store of pawpaws. This night horses
had excellent range — pea vines and cane.

[The following notes were made by Irving at the
other end of his diary:]

Race of dogs in the Rocky Mount[ain]s supposed
to be a cross-breed of the buffalo and wolf.

Old Father Vail addressed the Indians on the
necessity of industry, etc., to happiness. An In-
dian replied, "Father, I don't understand this
kind of happiness you talk of. You tell me to cut
down tree — to lop it — to make fence — to plough
— this you call being happy — I no like such
happiness. When I go to St. Louis I go to see

128

Chouteau or Clark — he says 'hello' - - and negro
comes in with great plate with cake, wine, etc. -
he say 'eat, drink.' If he want anything else he
say 'hello' - - three — four — five, six negro come
in and do what he want — that I call happy -
he no plough — he no work — he no cut wood."

"Ah, but he has negroes to do all that."

"Well, father, you go to our Great Father1 — tell
him to find me one, two, three negroes to cut wood
and plough for me and I '11 be willing to be happy
like white man — but for a man fifty years old to
have to plough, etc. — him too old."

An agent newly arrived — was preaching up as
usual about their being civilised and happy — one
old Indian affected to sleep, then waking up -
"What, father, still about that old happiness? -
don't talk of that any more. I'll tell you what I
call happy — to have my gun — a wide range —
to hunt — to kill buffalo — to have plenty to eat
— to eat and drink till full — to smoke — to lie
down on our backs — beat our bosoms and sing."

Juror declines to be empanelled in a trial of an
Indian for murder — he pointed to a scar on his
head — "This scar I rec[eive]d when two brothers
were murdered by Indians — I cannot be an un-
prejudiced arbiter of them."

Place of old Osage camp on branch of Osage
River — overgrown with bushes, wild plums, etc.

Backwoodsmen go ahead to tread down the
nettles.

Mr. McCoy — missionary, appointed to treat
with Cherokee Indians. A Cherokee was at Wash-
ington when he was there. Mr. McCoy applied

1 The name given by the Indians to the President of the United
States.

129

for his son to be appointed doctor — another, sur-
veyor — another, agent. The Cherokee returned
and told his friends this man is not for God, not
for us, but for himself — he wants to grasp every-
thing. They would not make a treaty with him.

Farmers beyond Independence, the frontier town,
seldom come to the village — they are content to
raise food enough for themselves — get wild honey
to sell for clothes, etc. — lead a lazy life in this
easily cultivated and prolific country.

Prairie dogs live in villages — owls and rattle-
snakes live with them — some say the latter in-
habit only such holes as the dogs have deserted in
consequence of the death of some relation.

Story of prairie dog, owl, and rattlesnake who
kept house together.

Indians at Mr. Dodge's Mission — had eighty
acres and ploughed and sown with corn for them -
each sent his horse, hobbled, into his part of the
patch — but as there were no divisions the whole
was nearly eaten up.

Indians had near 200 head of cattle — oxen,
cows, calves, etc. When the warriors went to the
buffalo hunt they left old men to guard them -
after several days the old men called a council.
"Our brothers," said he, "are by this time in the
midst of the buffaloes and have meat a plenty. It
is great pity that while they revel we should want.
Suppose we have a chase of our own." So said, so
done — they killed four oxen and all ate till they
could scarcely crawl. A few days after another
council. "Our friends must be still among the
buffaloes — suppose we have another chase." So
said, so done, and the 200 head of cattle melted
away before these domestic hunters.

130

October 6th. — Left encamp [men] t this morning
and rode thro' mist, which gradually cleared up and
showed wide prairie — with distant line of green
wood and hills that looked like cultivated country.
It seemed as if we could distinguish fields of grain,
leaves, partridges, glades, etc.

Our sportsmen shot two turkeys near our last
night's encamp[men]t — about half-past eleven ar-
rived at Mr. Requa's establish [men] t on the bank
of the Neosho, which is here a broad, fine stream,
clear and with a gentle current.

Mrs. Requa from Connecticut (Fan-field) — fine-
looking woman — says when she first came here
they had no house — slept under trees — was hi fine
health, never better — Indian farms — old Indian
guard left at home to take care of house.

Our dinner, four steaks of venison cut from veni-
son ham.

Leave Requa's at two — ride over prairies twelve
miles until we come in sight of the river — pleasant
country — looks like park land — well where Paw-
nees used to hide their effects when going hunting
or to war — holes still to be seen — old Osages told
Colonel of it — covey of prairie hens — pigeons -
come in sight of Col[one]l's house — white log house
with piazza, surrounded by trees. Come to beautiful,
clear river — group of Indian nymphs half-naked on
banks — with horses near — arrival at house — old
negro runs to open gate — mouth from ear to ear -
group of Indians round tree in court-yard — roast-
ing venison — horses tethered near — negroes run to
shake hand and take horses — some have handker-
chief across head — half-breeds — squaws — negro
girls running and giggling — dogs of all kinds — hens
flying and cackling — wild turkeys, tamed geese —

131

piazza with buffalo skin thrown over railing — room
with guns — rifles.

Supper, venison steaks, roast beef, bread, cakes,
coffee — waited on by half-breed — sister of Mr.
Chouteau's concubine — adjourn to another room. —
pass thro' open hall in which Indians are seated on
floor. They come into the room — two bring in
chairs — the other seats himself on the floor with his
knees to his chin — another Indian glares in at the
window. House formed of logs — a room at each
end — an open hall with staircase in the centre —
other rooms above — in the two rooms on ground
floor two beds in each room with curtains — white-
washed log walls — tables of various kinds — Indian
ornaments, etc.

Half-breeds loitering about the house — dogs and
cats of all kinds strolling about the hall or sleeping
among harness at one end of the piazza.

In these establishments the world is turned upside
down — the slave the master, the master the slave.
The slave has the idea of property — the latter of
reality; the former owns — the latter enjoys it; the
former has to plan, scheme, guard, and economize —
the latter thinks only of living, enjoying — cares
nothing how it comes or how it goes.

October 7th. — Sunday. Breakfast, coffee and
cream, roast beef, venison steaks, wild turkey fric-
asseed — Indians send in roast venison and beef —
milk that looks like cocoanut milk.

After breakfast Mr. Smith, who keeps school for
Col. Chouteau, calls at house — wears calico surcoat
after the Indian cut — has lived many years with the
Cherokees. Ride to the Saline1 — Major Rogers'

1 Salina, now the county seat of Saline County, Kansas, is so
called because of its salt springs.

132

house — he and his wife Cherokee half-breeds — he
absent at Cherokee council — which has been in ses-
sion four weeks, being discordant — Mrs. Rogers
fine-looking woman — her son a tall, fine-looking
young man, married to a handsome, tall half-breed.
Log house with piazza — locust trees — Saline in
valley — bubbling springs.

Ride to hill above, where Pawnee village formerly
stood — holes in the hill where the Pawnees used to
hide their effects when they went hunting. In cross-
ing the river we see the same nymphs whom we saw
yesterday — they were wading across — one re-
turned and played about in the water. A quarter
mile from the Col[onel]'s house is his race-course on a
beautiful little level prairie. He has a great number
of horses which the blacks drive by the house in a
drove.

Leave the Saline at two o'clock with Mr. Ellsworth
in dearborn for Fort Gibson. Antoine drives the
dearborn — William, the black boy, follows in
smaller dearborn — cross prairie — prairie hens —
heavy thunder-storm on prairie — put down the oil-
skin sides of waggon — cross swollen brooks — drive
thro' woods — pass river where a negro servant and
horse belonging to Mr. Chouteau were drowned by
swelling of the river.

Sun sets in clear streak — but clouds overhead —
arrive about seven at mission — Mr. Vail — his
wife a Connecticut woman — comfortable house —
at ring of bell repair to refectory in another building

— fifty scholars — Cherokees, Delawares, etc. These
tribes shew great anxiety for the education of their
children.

Monday, 8th. — Leave the mission after breakfast

— nine o'clock — towards noon see an Indian on a

133

mound who mounts his horse and comes to inquire
news of the Cherokees.

Arrive at Gen[era]l Campbell's — banks of the
Verdigris — leave luggage there for Pourtales and
Latrobe — ride thro' woods and cane brakes to the
Arkansas — Indian on horseback with Indian girl
behind him and strapping squaw before. Arrive on
banks of Arkansas — tolerably clear stream — neat
look of white fortifications — blockhouses, etc., of
Fort Gibson opposite. Cross in scow and arrive at
gate of garrison — guard cleanly dressed round the
gate — sergeant with Irish brogue — culprits in
pillory and riding the wooden horse — arrive at Col.
Arbuckle's quarters — log house.

Tuesday, 9th. — Leave Fort Gibson escorted by
fourteen rangers — Lt. Penticort.

October 10th. — Wednesday. Ride with Col.
Arbuckle, Gen[era]l Houston,1 to Col. Chouteau's —
picturesque scene crossing river — Creek with turban,
one end hanging down — blue hunting shirt — horn

— rifle — looked like Arab. Scene at Col. Chou-
teau's on the banks of the Neosho — group of Osages

— blankets, leather leggings, and moccasins — hair
cropped except bunch at top — bust bare or wrapped
in blanket.

Creeks — calico hunting shirts — scarlet and blue
handkerchief round head — leather and scarlet leg-
gings — groups of riflemen with horses — green

1 Samuel Houston (1793-1863). Irving' s meeting with this
famous American is especially interesting in view of the date. In
1827 Houston was elected Governor of Tennessee. In 1829 he
married a Tennessee woman (Miss Allen), but left her in a most
mysterious manner a few weeks later, and went to live among the
Indians. In 1832, dressed as an Indian, he visited President Jack-
son in behalf of the Western tribes. In the same year came his
first trip to Texas. This trip led to activities which resulted in his
election as first President of the Republic of Texas, and, finally, to
the annexation of Texas to the United States.

134

blanket coats — half-breeds — horses and dogs-
hunters in leather shirts — log cabins — stately
trees about river, with Virginia creeper.

Bustle at blacksmith's shoeing horses — breaking
spoons to melt lead for bullets — old trapper is there

- half-breed boy in moccasins — light straw-col-
[oure]d hunting shirt — rifleman in calico shirt, leg-
gins, etc. — negro shoeing horse — tall half-breed in
rifle shirt, blue trousers, moccasins — with pack-
saddles — little dog looking on at shoeing horse as
if studying the art or waiting for his turn. Rifle in
corner — old rifle against work bench.

Leave Col. Chouteau's at two o'clock — ride thro'
rich, entangled bottom by hamlets of Indians,
negroes, etc., to- — .

Encamp [men] t of rangers in circular grove — rich
bottom — high trees — horses tied round, feeding on
corn — brook near — trees tinted with autumn -
tinkling of bells — men making messes at fires -
some shooting at mark with rifles — parrots flying
chattering through trees. We pitch our tent in the
farmyard of Mr. Burghill — family suffering with
bloody flux — log houses of various sizes — skin of
bullock stretched and drying — dogs — full moon

- pale — damp air — distant fires of rangers in
grove below.

Robin Hood life and characters.

Mr. E. l — in half Osage, half chasseur dress — em-
broidered leather Indian pouch — powder horn with
red worsted band.

Thursday, llth. — Up before day — half-breed
pointing out the north star and positions of seven
stars as indicating daylight.

Our landlord large man with squeaking, broken
1 Ellsworth.
135

voice — Mr. Pourtales' boots lost on the road — one
was found — a Creek Indian was seen with the lost
boot on, looking for the other. "That's really a
funny tale," said our huge host, with a small
voice.

Set off at half-past seven — ride thro' deep, rich
bottom, by a village of Creeks extending along a ris-
ing ground — pass several Creeks — one with scarlet
turban and plume of black feathers like a cock's tail

— one with white turban and red feathers — Oriental
look — like Sultans on the stage — some have
racquet with which they have been playing ball —
some with jacket and shirts but legs and thighs bare

— middle-sized, well-made and vigorous. Yester-
day one had brilliant bunch of sumach. They look
like fine birds on the prairie. Pass house of a tall,
red-haired, lank, leather-faced settler with one eye
habitually closed when he winks — says some of the
Osages are near. They had stolen one of his horses

— says they will steal horses and then bring them
home, pretending to have found them and claiming
a reward.

Pass on to house of the last settler — the last trace
of civilisation — informs Pourtales and Latrobe of a
camp of Osages in a swamp. They determine to go
there and seek guides to conduct them to the Osage
hunting party. We find ourselves oft7 the track of
Capt. Dean's1 party of rangers, which set off several
days since, and set off to find it — said to be two
miles off — part with Latrobe and Pourtales — lose
our way in a swamp — tramp for some time through
brake and briars and mud — after extricating our-
selves we are overtaken by Latrobe and Pourtales

1This was Captain Bean, but Irving has repeatedly written it
"Dean."

136

with the old frontiersman who is guiding them to the
Osage camp.

Just then we meet old lantern-jawed man who had
lost his horse — had just met with Osage leading him
back, who said he had wandered to their camp.

Lantern- jawed man was for tying him up and giv-
ing him a swing of rushes, but we interfered.

Find that frontiersman advised Latrobe and Pour-
tales not to go on to Osages — they were too far to be
overtaken — Pawnees were out — Osages were pre-
pared for war, etc. Pourtales was not to be dis-
suaded. He and Latrobe procured an Indian guide
and set off on their quest — but a young man clerk
of Mr. Chouteau, who had set off with them from his
house, abandoned their enterprise and joined us.
Stopped about noon in rich bottom, tall trees, fine
range of pea vines, for the horses to repose and feed
for an hour — flock of paroquets — beautiful trans-
parency of the varied autumnal leaves with the sun
shining through them — horses cropping the pea
vine — men lying about on the deep bed of foliage.

Resume our route — come in sight of the Arkansas
River and pass frequently thro' rich bottom in sight
of it — view beyond of beautiful country — looks as
if cultivated — groves — glades — woody upland -
willowed shores — sandy beaches — sunny look of
the groves.

Pass thro' Osage war camp recently deserted —
cabins formed of twigs bent and rushes — fire in
centre — council wigwam — dancing place — arrive
about three at fine grove in rich pea-vine bottom,
with clear stream of water — traces of recent en-
camp[men]t of Capt. Dean — one fire still smoking —
encamp here for the night — hobble the horses and
turn them loose to graze. Latrobe and Pourtales

137

arrive, finding it impossible to get on with their
slender attendance — determine to continue with us.
Their Indian agrees to accompany them for a blanket
and cloak.

Firing at mark with rifles.

This day in the woods we encounter a wandering
dog. "He is mad," cried one — "He is blind," cried
another. He came rambling along with inflamed eye,
taking notice of no one, but bewildered by the noises

- the poor animal was following the traces of his
master. "I'll shoot him," said a ranger. "By no
means," cried I, "let the poor animal go on." He
rambled among the horses and pursued his course.

Two Creeks arrive at the camp to accompany us.

Friday, 12th. — This morning the two Creeks re-
turn who had carried message to Capt. Dean's camp
— had letter to Col. Arb[uc]kle which Mr. E. opens

- said they are encamped in fine place on the Ar-
kansas — about fifty [miles] distant, where there is
plenty of game and are waiting for us. Breakfast,
delicious ribs of pork — after breakfast go and wash
ourselves in beautiful stream.

Gaiety in camp — shots of riflemen — songs of
Antoine, etc.

Osage Indian and his wild horse — attempts to
put blanket of ours on him — fine scene — figure of
Indian — naked breast — blanket — with piebald
horse — wild eyes — collar with red tuft of horse-
hair.

Set off at half an hour after sunrise — ride thro'
fine forest — cross a narrow, deep stream upon an old
beaver dam — see streaming line of wild geese squall-
ing as they fly high overhead — pass an old Osage
war camp — at half -past ten stop in forest where there
is plenty of the pea vine — let the horses feed — fires

138

made — one man runs to spring for water — coffee
prepared — groups — some lying down with head on
saddle — others seated at foot of tree by fire-
smoke rising among the trees — some pulling up pea
vines — some rolling in the vine — rangers practising
at mark with their rifles.

Old Osage Indian arrives at our camp — had been
out to hunt but lost his horse and was looking for it —
says the rangers' camp is but ten miles off.

Half-breed says we shall see no buffalo until past
the Osage hunters — they frighten everything off
like a prairie on fire. Leave the encamp[men]t about
twelve, pass thro' bottoms, across prairies — by a
lonely pool covered with water lilies — see distant
smokes of Indians come down to banks of Arkansas
tracks of horses down to the river side (afterward
understood to be made by hunters who had crossed
to go buffalo hunting) . Let our horses drink and con-
tinue along bank and across prairie — see smokes -
fancy one to be the rangers' camp — follow track -
find horses grazing (Osage horses) — arrive at Osage
village on banks of the river. Old man comes and
shakes hands — women and children stare and laugh
- Mr. Ellsworth makes speech — retrace our steps
-find rangers' trail — meet Indian and squaw -
misunderstood them that the rangers' camp is three
miles off. Push on until dark and then encamp on
the borders of ravine — drops of rain — pitch tent.
Three Osages visit us and sit by our fire — give them
coffee — scene of rangers' fire — Indians — rangers
-men cooking, eating, drinking.
This day we made about thirty-five miles.
After we retire to our tents the Indians lie by the
fire before it and sing a nasal, low song in chorus,
drumming on their breasts — rain towards morning

139

— young Osage leaves us clandestinely in the
night.

Saturday, 18th. — Breakfast in tent — weather
promises to hold up — give breakfast to Indians.

Mr. Brailey tells of his having nearly been over-
taken last year by fire on the prairies — saw it
approaching and was so confused that he was hardly
able to make free and set the prairie on fire before
him.

After breakfast prepare for march — Pourtales
sets off, guided by the half-breed, to go back to the
Indian village.

Set off about seven — after riding some distance
pass a bee tree in the forest, recently cut down —
empty flakes of honeycomb, remaining. Travelling a
mile or two further on, we come to a bottom of wood-
land — see horse among the trees, recognised by the
men as horses belonging to then- troop. Coming to
the edge of a ridge the camp lies below us in beautiful
open wood by a stream of water — undergrowth of
low shrubs — blanket tents — venison hanging on
stick to smoke over fire — buckskins spread — cook-
ing at fires — horses — stacks of saddles and rifles —
congratulation of men with their companions.
Capt. Dean, about forty years of age, in leather
hunting dress and leather stock[in]gs — Dr. Holt —
grey jacket, linsy woollen jacket and trousers, cloth
hunting cap — old huntsman in rifle shirt of leather
asks permission to go hunting — granted — men of
all kinds of dress — some lying under trees — rifles
leaning ag[ain]st trees — powder horns, etc. Bee
hunt — led by a young fellow in a straw hat not un-
like a beehive — one without a hat following him
with rifle on shoulder — Capt. Dean, Dr. Holt, Mr.
Latrobe, Mr. Brailey with rifles and guns — come to

140

see first a honeycomb on bush — watch which way
the bees who are at it fly — pursue the track -
come to high, dry oak tree — see the bees about a
hole high up — men go to work at foot with axes -r
by and by down comes the tree with great crash and
breaks to shivers — one man runs up with whisp of
lighted hay to smoke off the bees. The poor victims
are pacific and suffer us to assemble round the ruin
of their habitation — trunk spread open discovers
stores of honey — cut open the other part above —
combs much broken — some white, clean and new,
others old — take out flakes in a pail — every one
with spoon and knife helps himself to the rich honey.
Bees returning to their hive from abroad find the
tree levelled and collect on the point of a withered
branch of a neighbouring tree, contemplating the
ruin and buzzing about the downfall of their
republic.

Some strange bees arrive and begin to banquet
on the honey of their ruined neighbours — men
know them by their greediness and their clean
jackets. Since being at this encamp[men]t they have
taken six or seven bee trees and killed nine deer
— camp abounds with honey and venison — fifteen
turkeys.

Bees have spread into this country within a few
years.

Leave much honey in the ruin of the tree. "It will
be all eaten by varmint," said one of the men.
"What varmint?" "Raccoons, opossums, skunks,
bears, etc." The latter will remain for days at a bee
kill. They make a hole and get in their paws and
haul out honey, bees and all. When queen bee is
killed the hive goes to ruin.

Shooting — trapping in the camp — dinner, veni-
141

son — roasted, fried, etc., — bread baked before fire
— prairie tea. Capt. Dean and Latrobe go off to
look after a beaver tree — to hunt, etc.

Seated with Dr. Holt — man brings kettle of honey
and sets before us — from a tree just taken — the
fifteenth tree — swarm round it like bees — getting
out the rich, white flakes.

Pourtales arrives at the camp and Beatte — each
with a turkey strung each side of the saddle — the
Indian camp had moved across the river — found
another camp — bright old wooden bowls and a
buffalo skin, etc.

A hunter returns to the camp on horseback with a
wild turkey. He had put his leggings on the horse to
protect him from the briars. Lay on the grass talking
with Capt[ain], Lieut[enant], Doctor, and others
about route — looking at map — to-morrow will get
to the Red Fork — will cross there and then in two
days will crack buffalo bones.

Hunter comes in with flakes of honey — another
tree found — eighteen trees.

Shot heard — there 's a buck killed — more honey
brought in — twenty trees — 100 men in camp
feasting on honey — towards evfenin]g sentinels
posted — fires lit up in advanced posts — horses
dashing thro' the camp — over fires — Capt[ain] and
Doctor dine with us — roast leg of venison — roast
turkey — prairie tea, coffee. Owl hoots over the
camp — has visited the camp several nights — men
mock him and bring him down — is called Charlie's
owl because sentinel coming in this morning fired gun
contrary to orders and said he fired at owl because he
was told it made good soup.

Pourtales fires at owl — kills it, and it falls on our
tent.

142

Charlie is called in to eat it but declines as he did
not kill it.

Mess at one of the tents singing psalms — others
whistling — sit by Captain's fire and hear old
hunters' tales — various groups round camp fires -
bells of horses — neighing of others — stories of
Pawnee fights — ruddy light in the west above
the trees. That's a prairie on fire by the Osage
hunters.

"That's at the Red Fork," said Beatte.

"It seems but three miles distant — it is perhaps
twenty."

About half-past eight a beautiful, pale light begins
to spring up in the east — forerunner to the moon.

Sleep at foot of a tree by fire — towards morning
lie looking at moon and stars — horses straying about
the camp.

Sunday, 14th. — Bugle sounds at daybreak —
bustle in camp — catching horses — driving them in
- "Have you seen my horse?" cries one. "What
horse is that broke loose over the brook?" Night
guard comes in — dismissed — fires made — break-
fast preparing — some packing — blankets that have
formed tents dismantled — singing — laughing —
joking, whooping — saddling horses. In a little
while the forest so suddenly and temporarily alive
and animated soon relapses into its primeval silence
and solitude.

1st Ranger: " Whose wallet is this? "

2d " "Why, I guess it's mine."

1st Ranger: "What kind of a wallet is it?"

2d " "Why, it's a borrowed wallet. I
borrowed it before I started, but you easily know it
by a bit of lead in it."

Bugle sounded to saddle and prepare to march.
143

Captain: " Which way lies the Red Fork? Have
none of you hunters hunted out here?"

Beatte: "You go three miles. I have only went
along yonder by the edge of the prairie. You will
find a bald hill, with stones on it."

Captain: "Yes, I have seen cliffs."

Beatte : "Stones which the Osages put up — from
that hill you will see the Red Fork."

Leave encamp[men]t at eight o'clock, ride thro'
tangled bottoms and up and down rough, broken,
rocky hills — picturesque look of troop winding thro'
thickets and up heights. In climbing a rocky hill the
girths of my horse gave way and I have a fall, but am
not hurt. Road winds by deep brook — a link of
clear pools — fine views from height of distant
prairies, and of hills beyond the Arkansas — golden
day — pure, delightful air. After much tortuous
march and climbing hills, threading narrow but ro-
mantic valleys, we come upon the Arkansas — broad
sandy shore — forests — elk — deer — buffalo — opos-
sum — turkeys — banks of cotton tree and willow.
Picturesque look of troops straggling along the shore
— some in groups among the willows — turn in thro'
thick bushes tangled with grape and pea vines —
come to open woodland — herds of deer in all direc-
tions. The leaders of the troop start a deer — shots
of rifles — we come to a small oak tree with marks of
a bear's having tapped it — about quarter before
three the troop encamp in a beautiful basin under
oak trees — we take our station on a rising ground
overlooking the camp — hunters start in different
directions to kill game — horses hobbled and turned
loose — fires made — men silent — no whooping as

144

in the morning — all busy or reposing — this day we
made about fourteen miles.

Huntsman brings in buck hanging across his horse

— shots heard from time to time — concert of bells
of all tones among the horses — mode of roasting
bread by twisting dough round a stick and standing
it endways before a fire.

Beverage of corn just ripe but not quite fit for
grinding — parched before slow fire — pounded —
sifted a couple of spoonfuls to half pint of water —
sweetened with sugar.

Captain Dean returns from hunt — unsuccessful

— had seen track of buffalo on the bottom since the
last rain and of an elk that had walked out on the bar
and then re-entered the woods above. If we had
shot him we should have all feasted this evening.
Had seen traces of a bear — lad comes in with doe
round his shoulders — companion follows him — a
laugh raised at him for shooting in partnership.

Clamor in camp — a young fellow, McLellan, has
shot an elk for the first tune and brought home some
ribs as a specimen. He is hoisted on the shoulders of
his companions — groups round fire examining the
sport. Bee hunters on the track of a tree — this day
after leaving the Arkansas we came thro' a bottom
where there was a great quantity of persimmons.

Monday, 15th. — Before daybreak howling of
wolves — at daybreak imitations of cocks crowing,
hens cackling, among the youngsters of the camp —
horses driven in — breakfast — whistling — singing

— dancing — hallooing after horses — joking, laugh-
ing, scampering after horses — troop detained for
party which went out at daybreak in quest of the elk
which was killed — to bring in the meat. They are
said to have got on the trail of the other elk.

145

Story of Uncle Sam's gun.

Bugle sounds to march — Capt[ain] leaves guard
to await return of hunters — after mile or two come
upon Indian or buffalo trail — view of Red Fork
from high hill — rolling of bear by stream — grove
and intervals of various trees — rocky ridges — lines
of heights — then down through rich bottom of land

— affair of Beatte with a skunk — traces of deer —
of a bear — marks of bears on the oak trees — come
to a halt — Capt[ain] and Beatte looking out for a
ford of the Arkansas. We are about one quarter of
mile above the fork — river narrower than below
and deeper — current strong — banks crumbling and
abrupt — no crossing — Beatte is sent to look above
at a sand bar.

Resume our route — about a mile distant come to
ford pointed out by Beatte who strips and wades
nearly across — council — Capt[ain] determines to
make rafts and cross — troops return to bottom of pea
vines. Our Frenchmen lead our horses to bank and
prepare to make a raft of buffalo hide — pile luggage
in centre of hide drawn up the sides by the loopholes
and tie the strings across.

Launch it on river and the Frenchmen and half-
breeds conduct it across, yelping like Indians. Some
of the troop headed by Lieut. Penticort cross one
and one half miles up the river, fording a long, ob-
lique distance — others seeing this, abandon the
construction of their rafts and set off to follow their
trail. I cross in the buffalo skin — seated on a quan-
tity of luggage, with a double-barrePd gun and rifle

— saluted by Col.1 Penticort and two rangers who had
crossed — return their salute by discharge of cara-
bine — land safely and dryly at two o'clock.

1 Apparently a slip for "Lieut."

146

Arkansas at this place beautifully diversified by
high bluffs of wood and rock — long, willowed reaches

- rich bottoms and embowered promontories on the
west bank where I landed, tracks of elk, deer, bears,
raccoons, waterfowls — woods tinted with autumn

- this morning in rich bottom passed a stately
pecan tree.

Beatte, who went before, had a towing line and
when he came to where he had to swim he held the
cord between his teeth — Antoine followed the boat

- Capt[ain] and Dr. Holt form raft of logs and cross

- long line of troops crossing at distance from point
to point.

Break our way thro' thick underwood to the camp
which is in a small, wild, rocky dell in the narrow and
which is like a cul de sac — encamp[men]t in green,
grassy bottom of the dell — ridges of limestone rocks
above — lofty tree.

My horse and pony missing — fearful that they
have not crossed — Mr. Ellsworth and Beatte set off
in quest of them.

Fires lit hi dell — looks like a robbers' retreat —
groups of men round fires — rules — powder horns,
etc., leaning ag[ain]st trees beside them — horses
grazing around with bells tinkling — baggage, blank-
ets, etc., hanging on horizontal poles to dry — no
account of my horse.

Walk with the Doctor to the head of the hill —
splendid view of the Arkansas, with picturesque
bluffs of tinted woodlands — bottom of fresh green —
long reaches of distant hills — blue lines of untrodden
country — gleam of the Red Fork among hills —
beautiful sunset.

See smoke from the low dell of our encampment —
see two laggards of the troop rafting over — shots

147

among the forests on the other side — distant smoke
of prairies on the horizon.

Return to camp — a deer and five turkeys
brought in — sup on excellent venison steak and
coffee — repair to Captain's fire — after dark see
glow of fires in western heavens. Capt[ain]: "If
they are on this side the Arkansas, they must
be Pawnee fires. No Osages dare hunt here."
Antoine thinks them Osage fires on the other side
of the Arkansas.

Captfain] : "We must now look out. I must issue
written orders — no man hunts without leave or fires
off a gun on pain of riding a wooden horse with a
sharp back."

It will be difficult to teach our young fellows cau-
tion— they are in the land of a silent, watchful,
crafty people.

One man says, "Where I go my gun goes — I never
like to leave it behind — there 's no one will take
such care of it as me — and there is nothing that will
take such care of me."1

Captfain] and others determine our position.

"Do you see that blazing star? That's the evening
star. ' ' Another, ' ' That 's the planet Venus that looks
down into our camp."

A band of hunters are still out on the other side of
the river.

Capt[ain]: "I should send to look after them but
old Ryan 's with them, and he knows how to take care
of himself and them. If it were not for him I would
not give much for the rest. He's quite at home —
never lost in the woods. It will be four to keep watch
and one to tend the fire."

1 In Chapter XIII of "A Tour in the Prairies," Irving includes
this remark which he amplifies at some length.

148

Story of the Sergeant:

"I was once belated in passing thro' a [forest] near
the Tombigbee — heard wolves howl — my horse
came crowding near me — drove him off but he re-
turned and stood looking at me and the fire and doz-
ing and nodding and loitering on his fore feet for he
was powerful tired. By and by I heard a panther
cry — thought at first it might be an owl — felt
awkward — had no weapon but double-blade pen-
knife — prepared to defend myself. I prepared for
defence — pile up small branch of fire to pepper
him with. The company of my horse seemed a
comfort. He laid down then beside me and fell
asleep, being so tired. In the morning I found
the tracks of a panther within sixty paces — they
were large as my two fists. He had evidently been
walking backward and forward trying to make up
his mind to attack me."

Wild look of dell with fires glaring here and there
among the rocks and trees — fine spring of water at
the head of it. This day we made about four miles
besides crossing the river.

October 16th. — Tuesday. Awake before day —
fine night — moon shining feebly down into the camp
— fires nearly extinguished — men lying about their
fires — light clouds drifting across the moon — at
daybreak Beatte sets off to cross the river in search
of my horses — returns about eight o'clock with all
three.

Bustle of preparation — some men sent back over
the river in quest of guns left behind — demand for
tall horses to stem the current — intend to make a
raft and return.

149

Yellow leaves showering around us — signs of
autumn.

At meal times great borrowing of frying pans,
kettles, etc. — when about to set off, loud demands —
"Who has a frying pan?" from the mess — "Who
has seen my horse?" etc., etc. Capt[ain] resolves to
start and leave a rear guard to bring up stragglers —
bugle sounds — troop files off — we remain, as our
packing is not complete. Antoine who accomp[anie]d
Beatte to look after the horses, the other side of the
river, got on false trail and has not yet returned.

Rear guard in groups — some seated round their
fires — others lying on ground lazily talking — their
horses unsaddled stand dozing by — one takes the
occasion to shave — some distant mounted — among
the trees — with guns over shoulders — quiet of the
grove except low talk of lazy groups, or a pensive
whistle of some solitary laggard. We leave the en-
camp [men] t at half-past nine — our route lies over a
rolling country of oak openings — grand, distant
prospects like cultivated country — our route at
first is by mistake about N. W., but we alter it to W.
— crossing a beautiful range of open hills — four
deer are descried grazing on side of a hill. One of the
rangers gets permission of Capt[ain] and started off
for an intervening wood. The troop halted and
watched — bang went the gun — one deer fell — the
rangers are starting forth, but Capt[ain] withheld
them — let the man have another shot (the surviving
deer having stopped) — the deer started and ran —
the whole line broke — horsemen galloping in every
direction — Antoine, who had been skirting the
forest, on white horse, came in sight but had no
chance — the deer got off.

Found an old Indian camp — some thought
150

Pawnee, but D[octo]r said it is some bold Dclawares
who have hunted here — old skull of a stag by the
encamp [men] t — fine stream close by — immediately
after we come on an old well-beaten trail of either
Indians or buffalo.

After leaving the place where we had the first
affair with deer, we came in sight of others on a hill

— hunters sent forward — shoot but miss. A fine
buck starts up from side of stream and escapes —
several other deer seen.

We proceed — passing side of a hill we see two
horsemen on the bald ridge of a distant hill who
appear to be reconnoitering us — "Pawnees," cry
some — Capt[ain] and others regard them — Pour-
tales brings his opera glass. They prove to be two
of our men who had remained behind and had lost
their way.

Antoine starts up a fine buck — shoots but misses
him — cross the olividing ridge of Red Fork and
Arkansas — the former making a great bend — push
on and encamp about half-past three on a beautiful
peninsula made by a deep, clear, but almost motion-
less brook. The huntsmen start off immediately —
our man Beatte among the first. This day we made
about fifteen miles — we are about 102 miles from
Fort Gibson — delightful mode of life — exercise on
horseback all the fore part of the day — diversified
by hunting incidents — then about three o'clock
encamping in some beautiful place with full appe-
tite for repose, lying on the grass under green trees

— in genial weather with a blue, cloudless sky —
then so sweet sleeping at night in the open air,
and when awake seeing the moon and stars thro'
the tree tops — such zest for the hardy, simple, but
savoury meats, the product of the chase — venison

151

roasted on spits or broiled on the coals — turkeys
just from the thicket — honey from the tree —
coffee — or delightful prairie tea. The weather is in
its perfection — golden sunshine — not oppressive
but animating — skies without a cloud — or if there
be clouds, of feathery texture and lovely tints — air
pure, bland, exhilarating — an atmosphere of perfect
transparency — and the whole country having the
mellow tint of autumn. How exciting to think that
we are breaking thro' a country hitherto untrodden
by white man, except perchance the solitary trapper

— a glorious world spread around us without an in-
habitant.

Young man comes into camp who has killed a deer

— has made a sack of the hide — filled it with meat
and slung it on his shoulder. Capt[ain] returns — has
seen a gang of sixty elk — followed and refrained
from shooting in hopes of getting shot at a large
buck — at length wounded one but lost it. Beatte
returns with a fat doe on his horse — skinned. In
a little while some ribs are roasted and furnish a
delicious treat — such is hunter's life — feasting and
fasting — we had just before made a meal of rem-
nants of turkey and salt pork. Wind changes —
driving clouds — threatens rain, but moon breaks
out about midnight.

October 17th. — Wednesday. Cloudy morn'g —
threat[enin]g rain — halted for the day — prepara-
tions for hunting — hunters summoned — charged
to go to river and below but not to go up the brook —
to bring all their spoil into the camp and lay it down
by the Capt[ain]'s fire that it may be portioned
out.

Hearty breakfast of ribs of venison and coffee with
cakes baked in pan before the fire.

152

Set off with Capt. Dean, his brother, Sergeant
Dean, and Lieut. Penticort and accomp[anie]d by two
men on foot who are to bring home a doe killed by
the Sergeant last ev[enin]g. Soon come to the doe
lying on hillside disembowelled and leave the foot-
men to cut it up and cany it to camp. Come upon
elk trail — deep prints like a cow — elk beds where
they laid the night before last — go quietly, Indian
file — come to where Capt[ain] shot the elk last
night — see blood on shrubs and grass — on the trail
for some time when it ceases — see a deer or two
scampering in the forest. Capt[ain] looks for separ-
ate trail of wounded elk — thinks it must be some-
where about the neighbourhood as some buzzards [are]
hovering in the air — regain the trail of the elks — car-
ries us thro' open oak-forested hills until we come to
a bend of the Red River where the elk had forded.
It is probable they did not stop for ten miles last
night — give up the pursuit and turn our course to
creek on which is the encamp[men]t. Sergeant and
Lieut[enant] take one side of the creek — Capt[ain]
and myself the other — pass old buffalo trail on road
— come up with two hunters on foot who had
wounded an elk but lost him, and had found the elk
killed by Capt[ain] last night. They conduct us to it,
about one and one half miles from where it was shot.
It had abandoned the trail of its sound, unhurt com-
panions and had turned off to die alone to-day in
open oak wood on side of a slope — already begun
to spoil. Capt[ain] and men go to work to cut it up
— flesh tainted inside — Capt[ain] and men skin it and
cut collops off the ribs and the outside generally —
buzzard soaring in the air waiting to banquet on the
spoil — Capt[ain] forms sack of the hides gathered up
through holes in the edges by thongs cut from the

153

same — puts it on his horse and sets off for camp —
footmen pursue then1 sport.

Return to camp. Antoine the half-breed returned
with a bear which he killed near our old camp.
Old Ryan and his party had met with Antoine and
hearing of the ford had crossed the river with
him.

The elk when mortally wounded always leaves the
trail and turns aside to die.

Picturesque scene of the camp — some roasting
bear's meat and venison — others stretching and
dressing skins — some lying on skins in the shade —
horses feeding — hunters coming in with game —
turkeys, etc. — groups relating the morning's ex-
ploits — clothes hanging to dry — tent pitched —
fine luncheon.

Latrobe has caught a mess of small fish in the
brook.

One hunter brings in an otter — the rest return
without success — game frightened from the neigh-
bourhood. Dinner, bear's meat roasted — excellent
— the rest of bear's meat and venison is roasted to
take with us — venison and bears meat cooked at
Capt[ain]'sfire.

Camp nearly surrounded by deep glens with quiet,
clear pools at the bottom, in which the autumnal
glory and mellow ev[enin]g skies are beautifully re-
flected.

[Irving has then turned the book around and used the
pages there for the following notations:]

Carandolet or Vuide Poche few miles below St.
Louis.

A traveller from New Orleans nearly out of pro-
visions, stopped his canoe there and asked for food —
no beef — no mutton — no bread — old — all sick

154

with fever and ague — turned upon him and asked
what he had — nothing but a few fragments of bis-
cuit in pouch — begged them — shook them out and
gave him the empty bag to travel on with — thence
the place took the name of Vide Poche, or empty
pouch.

Capt. Courtois — old, round, dried fellow —
looked like Don Quixote — could not read or write,
but study French, afternoons — was made Duke
under the Spanish gov[ernmen]t — and had title of
commandant with small pay — when asked when
was Carandolet founded, replied, "De tout des
temps." When the province was transferred he was
recommended to Gen[era]l and was made Capt[ain]
of Militia, with which he was well pleased. Having
no silk sash, he made one of red silk handkerchief —
invited Gov. Lewis, Gen[era]l Clark, and others to
dine with him at Vuide Poche — militia drawn out —
ordered to fire at each toast — then asked permission
for them to come and drink to health of the party.
Shouldered their arms, entered, drank and returned
to their stations like statues. After transfer of gov-
[ernmen]t he remained here living in the village —
old people looked up to him — settled all disputes —
his word was law. He was a good farmer — kept a
small shop and was well to do in the world.

Capt. Courtois wore old-fashioned cocked hat
when on militia duty.

He was once put on a jury which was a new insti-
tution in the country and quite strange to him —
when asked he observed — "My mind is made up on
the subject." -"And what is it, Capt. Courtois?"
— "Why, if the man is guilty he should be punished,
and if he is innocent he should be set at liberty and
no harm done him." — "Aye, but, Capt. Courtois,

155

that is not the thing — you must say guilty or not
guilty."

"I tell you my mind is made up — if he is guilty,"
etc. There was no getting any other answer from old
Capt. Courtois and the jury had to be dismissed.

Chief cook of Osage villages — a great dignitary —
combining grand chamberlain, minister of state,
master of ceremonies and town crier — has under-
cooks. He tastes broth, etc. When strangers arrive
he goes about the village and makes proclamation -
great white man, great chief arrived — warriors turn
out and prepare to receive him properly. Chief lodge
prepared for reception — mats placed, etc.

In the course of our journey from Independence we
met with camp of Osage hunters — the cook a tall
man painted — head decorated with feathers — had
an old greatcoat, with a wolf's tail dangling below.

In the Chilhowee Mountains of N. Carolina is a
rock called the garden rock — Indian superstition so
strong concerning it that no one dared to approach
it — supernatural being inhabited it — gigantic -
one eye — not seen by men but the wandering hunt-
ers now and then had a gleam of his eye.

Near the mountain lived an old woman and
daughter. He fell in love with and gained her —
mother and no one ever saw him — mother watched
— surprised her in the lodge with him. He dis-
appeared and has never been seen since then. Hunt-
ers say he still inhabits the mountain, which is in the
reservation in N. Carolina.

Col. Chouteau's comparison of two half-breeds —
this one has been twice as long at the Mission as the
other and therefore is twice as good for nothing.

The Choctaws, Col. Arbuckle says, are very good,
honest fellows.

156

The Choctaws are sly, bargaining, avaricious.
They have become civilized enough to know the value
of property. They are factious, electioneering —
chiefs try to get adherents and make parties.

Old trapper at Blacksmith's.

Capt[ain]. - "What are you doing up here?-
Trapping bear?"

"There's none to trap only now and then."

"What's become of your party?"

"Scattered — some gone to California — some
down Columbia River."

This flour is bad enough to kill a snake — there 's
lumps in it as big as terrapins.

The Osages are brave Indians — hunters full of
ceremonies and superstitions. We are poor people,
say they — we cannot farm and our hunting is falling
off. The pride of the Osages is broken. They steal
horses — give you a grand ceremony and then per-
haps follow you and steal your horse.

Wild horses — tell you by the smell if the wind
sets from you, and run off — otherwise come near and
gaze at you. Stallions prance round and snuff at
mares. Horses, if they smell mares, make off — wild
horses in droves of one colour — some black — some
brown — one gang will be good — another bad. Best
horses cannot be taken. Buffaloes — when the cows
have calves the bulls keep scattered round the prairie,
keeping guard ag[ain]st wolves — charge furiously at
anything that approaches.

Saline near the Wachile which used to be and still
is a fighting ground of the Osages and Pawnees —

157

their skulls and bones may be seen bleaching
there.

A grey horse has been noted for six or seven years
on the prairies and the hunters have in vain tried to
catch him — he perceives our tracks and outstrips
the fastest horse.

Six men, a detach[men]t from a large force, came
upon what they thought were wild horses — they
approached them and found they were tame —
thought to take them — but perceived Indians near
in lodge — supposed them Osages — and came near
them when they discovered they were Pawnees —
they turned and fled. Pawnees sprang on their
horses and pursued them — one badly wounded —
fell behind — a Pawnee gained on him — one launched
arrow — missed him — launched another arrow —
the man dodged it — his stirrups gave way — he fell
— turned and shot Pawnee between the shoulders
with his rifle — the other Pawnees turned to cry over
their friend — the man escaped. Pawnee's horse
followed the white men to their camp — and was
taken.

Story of young lady carried off by Indians :
Young man by name of Philips followed her with a
band — came upon track of Indians on a prairie —
saw they must come near a point of wood — made a
circuit and got into wood — young lady saw them
and fell behind Indians — Philips, seeing they would
not come within a certain distance of wood, sallied
forth — young lady ran toward him — Indian pur-
sued her — gained on her — began to strike at her
with his tomahawk. Philips says his horse seemed to

stand still, tho' at utmost speed — within yards

young lady stumbled over log and fell partly thro'

158

loss of blood — Indian was just going to tomahawk
her when Philips shot him thro' head — narrator had
the story from Philips' brother.

Indians when they have killed game and cannot
bring it home, leave a blanket or some other garment
by it, the smell of which keeps off wolves.

A rag with powder rubbed on it is said to do the
same.

Beatte: "I want to know what way to go any-
how."

Charlie the hero of the owl camp a kind of butt in
the camp.

Beatte — half Frenchman — half Indian — talk-
ative and forward at tunes — taciturn and sulky at
others — brings in game — throws it down and says
nothing about it.

Antoine thorough Frenchman — vaunts, exults,
sings, boasts.

Ring fires — made by Indians on prairies to drive
game to a point — a few men will run from point to
point and make a range of fires for miles.

October 31, 1832. — Wednesday. Encampt on the
little river — Canadian. For a day or two past, dis-
content hi the camp as among the children of Israel
hi the wilderness — want of bread. For a week past
the troops have been out of flour. A corporal last
night was put under arrest for mutinous talk on the
subject. Determined that we start from here direct
for the garrison. Captfain's] and D[octo]r's horses
and the horse of a ranger had strayed yesterday and
men had been sent back to the last camp in search of
them — Capt[ain] and one man set off this morning

159

on their trail. We made every preparation for start-
ing — horses of troops all saddled — ten o'clock and
Capt[ain] not returned. Mr. Ellsworth determined
to start on ahead and let Capt[ain] of troops overtake
us. We set off under escort of fourteen men under
Lieut. Penticort at ten o'clock — skirt the prairie -
see white wolves, deer, etc. — see buffaloes and wild
horses — Beatte and Antoine set off in pursuit of
horses, but in vain — Pourtales shoots at buffalo.
Keep a S[outhern] course and then turn southeast
in old Osage war track — terrible brushwood -
thicket§ — deep ravine — see deer — fine bucks, etc.

— buffalo — encamp five minutes before three in a
small valley — near pools of water. Made this day
fourteen miles or thereabout. Form our little camp

— set guard — make fires — sup on stewed buffalo,
roast venison, pig nuts — tea without sugar — spread
our skins under trees. Old Mr. Sawyer sits at foot
of my bed and gossips until I fall asleep. Large bear
seen in neighbourhood of our camp — but escaped
the huntsmen — fine starlight night — shooting stars.

November 1st. — Thursday. Beautiful daybreak

— camp cheerful — in good spirits with prospect of
soon being at home and getting bread — notes of
quails — Beatte singing Indian nasal song — pre-
pare for marching but detained by the wandering of
one of Latrobe's horses — at length (it being found)
we set off at eight. Fatiguing march over hills and
thro' deep ravines of parched dwarf oaks with flesh-
tearing twigs, thro' tangled thickets, etc. Beatte
kills a fat doe — Latrobe a fine turkey — arrive at
the valley of the Grand Bayou in little river -
wander about in a labyrinth of swamps, thickets, etc.

— inundated lands — tangled with grape vines,
thorny vines, etc., which almost pull us off our horses

160

-nearly mired in a deep creek — one of the pack
horses falls on his side and wets his lading — tracks
of bears, wolves, buffalo, wild horses, turkeys, ducks,
etc. Try several times to find fording place of bayou,
which is deep and miry with steep banks — at
length succeed — all get over girth deep and stop to
rest the horses in a meadow about half-past eleven,
having made about ten miles — spread wet baggage
to dry — hang up the two shirts which I washed
yesterday.

Resume our march quarter before one — exces-
sively fatiguing to men and horses — a broken, hilly
country covered with scrub oaks, with interlacing
limbs as hard as iron, and intersected by deep
ravines of red clay down which the horses fairly
slide, and then scramble up the other side like cats.
The oaks are all brown and dried as if a simoom had
passed across — a miserable, sterile, dreary country
at this season of the year.

Here and there is a bottom where there are cotton
and elm trees which give a transient variety, and
absolute thickets of persimmons laden with rich
fruit. In a meadow of one of these bottoms we see a
fine wild black horse. Beatte approaches him, riding
on a mare and whinnies to attract him. Horse
prances round her at a distance — Beatte dismounts,
aims with his rifle over the back of his mare, and
fires, hoping to criss the horse — but he escapes.
About half-past three we resume our march, keeping
easterly approaching the North Fork obliquely -
difficulty in finding a place to encamp where there is
water — pass over a burnt prairie — at length about
half after four encamp in a small bottom near the
burnt prairie and not far from the North Fork —
good range for the horses.

161

Make my bed under a tree on a hillock among
long, dry, prairie grass — a superb couch — sleep
soundly and sweetly and warmly tho' a heavy dew
fell — starlight — watch the stars on the prairie as
at sea. Lightning in the East a sign of apparently
bad weather — clouds about the horizon — flocks of
wild ducks show cold weather at hand.

Camp short of provisions — improvidence of men
who left piles of buffalo meat at their camp the day
before yesterday.

November 3d. — Saturday. Breakfasted early on
coffee and the last of our buffalo meat — march
quarter after seven — weather clouds up, low mum-
blings of thunder — wind veers to N. E. and it begins
to ram — cross prairie and pass thro' open oak for-
ests — see deer, but not within shot — several flocks
of wild turkeys — men on the alert, eager for a
dinner. A few days since, they despised such small
game and I have seen dead turkeys left behind on
marching. Cross the North Fork about half-past
nine — quite fordable — ride thro' rich, well-tim-
bered bottom — cross small branches, and seven
minutes before one encamp in an oak forest beside a
creek — rain holds up until we make fires — pitch
tent — dry our clothes. Hunters are gone out and
Beatte among the number on quest of food, for a
great scarcity reigns in the camp — some of the men
have not had anything since yesterday morn'g-
Tonish1 is cooking flour fritters in buffalo fat for us,
to take with coffee, without milk or sugar.

Beatte returns with two turkeys — ten turkeys
killed in this camp.

1 This is Antoine, the little French Creole, "familiarly dubbed
"Tonish"' as Irving writes in Chapter I of the "Tour on the
Prairies."

162

This part of country has good bottoms along the
rivers — some good pasture land in the prairies, and
good marsh in the forests — might make good land
to raise stock on. Beatte had said the wind would
be to the north — this morning a flight of brant
flew from the north over our heads — "There comes
the wind," said Beatte — and hi fact the wind soon
veered — night cold, gusty with freaks of rain -
large log fire before our tent.

In the night wild geese fly over, making cackling
hi the air.

November J+ih. — Sunday. Raw, cloudy, gloomy
morning — three men went out from each mess to
hunt for the horses — very apprehensive that many
of them have made for the fort, for horses have an
instinctive knowledge of their approach to home and
can make a straight course for it — as they graze,
every step they take is towards home. Set out on
the march quarter before eight — after marching an
hour or so we strike a Creek trail, leading directly on
our course, which enables us to go on briskly tho'
very irregularly, many of the horses being almost
knocked up. Land improves — fine prairies like park
scenery, now mellowed by the sober tints of autumn.
A young buck springs up on our right and dashes
ahead, but Childers, a young ranger who had acci-
dentally alighted from his horse, fires and breaks his
neck and the buck tumbled head over heels.

Tonish flanked us on the left and killed a fat doe.
Another ranger killed a buck. Mr. Latrobe kills a
polecat which is treasured up by the men. Several
turkeys killed — noble prospect from a hill over
richly tinted woodlands, prairies, etc., and long lines
of distant hills. About three we encamp in grove in
a hollow, on the bank of a branch — after a march of

163

about twenty-five miles. The horses come straggling
up, but many remain behind and some it is feared will
give out — our course this day a little to the north-
ward of east.

Beatte arrives late (we had to send a horse back for
him). Poor Gumbo gave out nine miles off — and
Beatte's bl[ac]k pony mare not long after, and had
to be abandoned — supper, stewed venison ribs and
turkey made into a rich soup.

Comes on to rain about nine — heavy rain in the
night.

This afternoon we saw a round hill or mound
fifteen or twenty miles off — said to be within eight
miles of the garrison — still I fear some of the horses
will give out before we reach there. "If we pass any
house here and there are fat cattle or fowls, they
will have to lock them up," said one of the hungry
rangers.

November 5th. — Monday. Cloudy, dismal morn'g
after a rainy night — camp before daylight — sounds
with imitation of cock crowing — owls hooting —
the poor fellows had supper last night and are cheer-
ful again.

I had prepared my bed in the open air last night
— when it began to rain, crept into the tent — sound
of the axe in all quarters — men cutting poles to
make booths of blankets, etc.

Capt[ain] and troop start before us — Beatte goes
back for his mare and brings her to camp together
with Pourtales' colt — has to leave his mare which is
like to die. The wild mare lost her foal last night and
had to be abandoned in the camp. We set off about
eight — cold, gloomy morn'g — overtake the Cap-
t[ain]'s troop — Capt[ain] misses the trail and makes
a circuit towards the N. W. around a rocky hill. We

164

leave the troop, and guided by Beatte, strike N. E.

- send word to Capt[ain] who has to follow us -
wretched travelling among rocks — quicksand, etc.

- at length come out upon prairie and after riding
couple of miles we stop beside a brook to rest the
horses — Capt[ain] and most of the troop go on.
Two of our horses lie down with fatigue and sickness.
Some of the men set the prairies on fire, but it is too
damp to burn to any extent.

Resume our march after three quarters of an hour

- traverse prairies — a long, scattered line stretch-
ing three or four miles over hill and dale — encamp in
a wood beside the deep fork about four o'clock, hav-
ing made about twenty miles — cold, windy night —
wind sounding thro' the forest and whirling about
the dry leaves — long logs cut for firing — making
long fires, before which men cook and gossip. An-
toine arrives pretty late bringing up the tired horses

— our party send all our horses across the stream,
as it is rising.

November 6th. — Tuesday. Cold, windy morn'g —
all the men have leave to go out hunting till twelve,
to supply the camp with food — great firing at
turkeys with which the bottom abounds — Beatte
brings home six. Preparations for crossing the
stream — trees felled to serve for bridges — but fall
rather short — our men carry across the baggage
on a felled tree, part of which is two feet under the
water.

Capt[ain] and others pass afterward over trees
felled from each side to meet each other.

Grove of peccan1 trees.

Latrobe kills two prairie hens — Mr. Ellsworth

1 Irving, like Jefferson, in his "Notes on Virginia," uses the old
spelling, "peccan."

165

and I pass across felled tree, holding by a stretched
cord and aided by Beatte.

Several of the horses too weak to cross stream —
leave them with a guard of twelve men and leave two
of our tired horses with them.

Leave the camp half after one — cross rough,
stony, woody hills — have a fine prospect of wood-
lands and hills and prairies towards the Arkansas —
flocks of prairie hens — Capt[ain] and Beatte wound
a buck on a small prairie to our left, but it escapes.

Walk the whole way and lead or drive my horse —
most of the rangers do the same — after marching
about six or seven miles encamp in a good bottom
among lofty sycamores on the bank of a small stream

— yesterday found out by examining maps that we
were about fifty miles from the fort.

To-day in course of the march Beatte climbed a
tree on a hill and saw the forest along the Arkansas.
Towards the end of our march we saw smoke along a
woody glen about three or four miles off, made, no
doubt, by Indian hunters.

Some of the rangers met a Creek Indian who told
them the fort was but about fifteen miles off. (He
must be mistaken.) Said he lived about three miles
off and had meat and corn — rangers elated with the
news. This day weather cleared up sunny.

November 7th. — Wednesday. Last night a fine
moon — light, but windy and cool — lay at the foot
of a tree. This morning cloudy, but likelihood of
clearing up — preparation for early start — our
flour all out — pepper also — salt nearly gone — we
live on soup and stewed game.

Two of the men (Lane, Penticort) lost their horses

— have to remain to search [for] them.

Leave camp half -past seven — cross rough, hilly,
166

stony country — meet five Creeks — from brow of
hill have a fine look over wide prairies — Beatte sees
hill about twenty miles off and within eight miles of
fort — set off with fresh spirits — cold march across
burnt prairies where Indians had lately hunted -
see smoke of Indian hunters at distance — straggling
march of twenty men in clusters, or singly — - deep,
muddy ravine. Stop about midday for an hour to
rest horses and warm ourselves — sharp N. W. wind
sweeping prairie — weather cloudy — resume our
march and just at dusk arrive at creek which empties
into the Arkansas. Encamp in grove where several
trees have been prostrated by tornado — large fires
soon blazing and sparkling — make supper of stew'd
venison (Beatte having killed a deer this morning) -
fine moonlight night — sleep round camp fire. This
day we made from twenty to twenty-five miles N. E.
byE.

Clear, moonlight, frosty night — a cup of water
standing by the head of my bed froze one half
inch.

November 8th. — Thursday. Cold, bright morning
- make breakfast on the reliques of our provisions

— remnant of venison — turkey — polecat — some
roasted — some stewed without salt — a little coffee
with a remaining and long-treasured lump of sugar

— rub each morsel of meat on the salt bag.

Set off at half-past seven in high spirits for the ford
of the Arkansas which we were told by Beatte was
about thirteen miles off (some of the men this morn'g
were seen to stew turkey bread,1 etc., and to rasp the
bones for breakfast) — march briskly through thick-
ets across branches over hills and prairies — Pour-

1 Apparently a hash of wild turkey mixed with slices of bacon
and lumps of dough.

167

tales' horse — colt mixes in a branch and is extri-
cated with difficulty. From a hill see mount[ain]s
beyond the fort — we are told the ford is about nine
miles off — on we go — the miles stretch — the
horses tire — we dismount, being fatigued ourselves

— mount again — the horses stagger — lag behind

— colt flings — Pourtales flogs him on — at length
he gives out — and the wild colt likewise. Smoke of
fires on prairies — get on tracks of Indians — at
length to our joy come in sight of habitations of men

— Creek Indians — log houses among trees — push
on, horses fagged — arrive at log house owned by
white man with black, fat wife — delightful sight of
hogs — poultry, crowing of cocks, etc. — horse pricks
his ears — stop at the door — Capt[ain] and officer
eating at a table — huge iron pot with beef and
turnips — put in for a share, fat negress gives a
plate heaping with beef and turnips, corn bread
and butter — apologises for giving it in such poor
style ! — Capt[ain] determines to encamp there. I
push on with Mr. Ellsworth to the ford where our
companions were — corn crib on banks of river —
give corn to horses — ravenous appetite for it.
Scene with canoe crossing — baggage — cotton-tree
banks — stream swift — drive horses in — Mr. La-
trobe's and mine get entangled in dry trees and
return — other horses swim in line — get to footing
and land safely — canoe returns — we all get in -
lead two horses, who send large wave into boat -
land safe — set off thro' woods for Chouteau Agency.
Horse seems renovated by the idea of getting among
corn — pricks ears, raises head, trots, etc. Arrive
at Agency — supper at Nanny's — newspapers —
moonlight on Verdigris River.

November 9th. — Friday. Leave my horse at the
168

Agency and set off after breakfast1 for the garrison
with Mr. Latrobe and Mr. Ellsworth, and resume
our quarters at Col. Arbuckle's.

At night serenade of the widow by the quarter-
master and one or two other old bachelors.

In the fort is the Widow Nix, a plump, buxom
dame, whose husband was fifty years of age when he
married her — amassed 20,000$ as butler to the gar-
rison, which functions he discharged from the first
establishment of the fort. The widow came to the
fort a short time since and is the object of desires of
all the men. The ghastly Q[uarte]r Master — Capt.
Clark — the old Coljpnel] himself — all aspire to her
favour. A lawyer with the militia title of Major
Lewis has just made his appearance at the fortress as
aspirant, and occasions some jealousy among the
military men who all unite ag[ain]st the intrusion of
the black coat. The serenade of the widow was a
horrible drover's voice that broke the sleep of men,
women, and dogs throughout the fortress.

November 10th. — Saturday. Breakfasted at Dr.
Pitcher's. Engage my passage in the steamboat
Little Rock, which arrived last night and leave to-
day for the mouth of the river.

Visited the theatre, a building erected for Indian
council house. The soldiers get up plays — no
negroes admitted.

Sail at about two o'clock, Colfonel] and officers
accompany me to the vessel. We go down Grand

1 Here we have the last note which Irving drew upon in writing
the "Tour on the Prairies," which ends as follows: "The next
morning after breakfast I again set forward in company with the
worthy Commissioner for Fort Gibson, where we arrived much
tattered, travel-stained and weather-beaten, but in high health
and spirits ; — and thus ended my foray into the Pawnee Hunting
Grounds."

169

River and turn up the Verdigris to take in cargo of
stores at the Agency. Take tea with Latrobe and

Pour-tales at the Agency with Mr. and Col.

Lane — picturesque groups of Creek Indians cross-
ing in canoe with horses — others lying about the
banks — led horses, etc.

I am now writing on board the steam-boat which
lies about a mile below the Agency, close by one of
the sandy banks of the Verdigris — beautiful em-
bowered stream — gleam of sky along the water be-
tween the lines of trees which fringe each bank —
moon rising among the groves.

[The following notes are at the other end of the book:]

Mr. E. — spurs without rowel[l]s — when we met
the eight Osages charged them not to make war and
then told Beatte to tell them of skunk.

Uncle Sam's gun three inches in breech, one in
muzzle.

Corn diminishes as his warlike propensities in-
crease.

Pawnees always on horseback — then1 dwellings of
mats and skins — here to-day, to-morrow ten miles
hence — sometimes dash upon you forty or fifty
— look like a troop of wild horses — only a leg hang-
ing over to hold on by.

Tonish says when he was about fifteen years of age
he was one day hunting in his neighbourhood and he
saw a white deer. After a little while another white
deer got up and so to the number of seven. He fired
but missed — fired again and missed — could not hit
the deer — went home and told the circumstance to

— , an old hunter or half-breed — " They 're hard to
hit," says he, "and can only be shot by a particular
bullet." He cast balls but would not let Tonish see
how he cast them — went out — shot — missed -

170

but at length killed one — the rest ran off and were
never seen again.

This vast extent of country without human habita-
tion — visited only by wandering hordes who make
an irruption — pull out a few pieces of its rich game
and then retreat to their homes.

"My gun is so powerful dirty."
"My horse goes quite peart."

Kentucky originally one of the finest hunting
grounds in the land — the fertile soil, deep bottoms —
prairies and other ranges affording sustenance to the
richest game. The Indians herd hi it — some had
their permanent villages in the south on the Tennessee
waters — others north in Ohio — nearest town the

— . Come into the country to hunt and then fight
— called therefore the land of blood — traces of deep
buffalo tracks, where the soil is worn away by the
travel of ages — near Licking River.

Sewaculty the spirit of the mountain — gigantic -
one eye perpendicularly opening in forehead — pro-
jected so that he could see in every direction — his
mountain guarded by snakes. He stepped from
mountain top to mountain top — where his steps had
been all was clear and smooth — old Indian shewed
a clear place to Rogers — "Sewaculty has been here
last night. If you throw firebrands and ashes here
to-day you will find all clear to-morrow."

In the neighbourhood lived an old man and wife
with one beautiful daughter sought by all young
warriors and hunters. Her father said, "I will
appoint a day for hunting — the best hunter on that
day shall have my daughter." Day came — hunters

171

assembled — went off at dawn — a young man made
his appearance (describe him) sat down to break-
fast tranquilly) on leaving, went forth — hunted —
brought in load of game — laid it down — said noth-
ing — smoked his pipe — went out again — brought
in more — laid it down — other hunters had not
come in — dined — went out again — brought in an-
other load. When the other hunters came in and
saw his great pile of game, they gave up to him and he
rec[eive]d the bride. Lived with her a year — said
he must go to his land to see his people — she might
go with him if she pleased. She agreed — they went
off — crossed a river at foot of mountain — their
footsteps were seen on the sand on other side but no
more seen or heard of them. Years rolled away —
father of bride set out in quest of her — took
the direction of footsteps — went to mountain —
found snakes in abundance — proceeded — found
his daughter in a wigwam — great rattlesnake lying
beside her — "How is this, my daughter? — Why do
you not kill that snake?" — "It is my husband —
gave me my choice — snake by day — man by
night." Such are all the snakes of this mountain who
are subjects of Sewaculty. Old man remains at night
— finds his son-in-law a young man — remains in the
mountain. — Every moon, whenever they want
game, conjure and let it out from cave.

November llth, 1832. — Sunday. On board of the
steam-boat Little Rock — River Verdigris — get

under way about six o'clock from about a mile

below the Osage Agency — Verdigris River — beau-
tiful dawn — while yet twilight pass a fire on the
shore — Indians around it — canoe fastened close by.
Streaming flights of wild ducks — pigeons in clouds,
some rising from the sand bars where they go to drink

172

and to pick gravel; others flying in successive clouds
over the trees — banks of river with growth of cotton
wood — river of moderate breadth — finely wooded
banks. Land Mr. Brown, Creek Indian, and trader
at his place opposite the mouth of the Illinois — cross
the river and stop to get wood — go ashore and shoot
pigeons.

As the day advances the temperature grows warm

and genial. The forests very much stripped of leaves

—young cotton-wood groves — grey branches — light

tinge of green on tops — golden sunshine — loneliness

and stillness of the scene — the Sabbath of the woods.

Persons in steam-boat: Mr. Gregory, clerk — Dr.
Cunningham, editor sub rosa of a paper at Little
Rock, originally of Philad[elphi]a then N[ew] York -
Lieut. - — , educated at W[est] Point.

One bank of the Arkansas settled by Cherokees,
the other by Choctaws — log houses along the river
— touch at Fort Smith — right bank of river on
rocky bluff — ruinous old wooden buildings and block
house. A number of the inhabitants come down,
among whom I was introduced to Mr. Rogers, for-
merly of western part of State of N[ew] York, who
owns a great part of Fort Smith, and Mr. Cairns,
merch[an]t.

A daughter of Dr. Cunningham comes on board -
cross the line and enter upon the Territory — log
houses occupied by white men — groups of negroes
hi Sunday dress along the shore — songs and choruses
of our negro firemen — pass Devil's Elbow, a great,
sandy bend in the river.

In the course of the day pass by a red boat bearing
U. S. troops on an expedition to destroy whisky stills.

Stop at Van Buren to take passengers — two men
in fur caps with rifles and bedding — Van Buren

173

embryo town — at present four or five straggling log
huts.

About dusk stop to take on wood, having made
about ten miles since daybreak. This day (in boat-
men's slang) we overtook the rise — i. e., we came to
where the river was' at the highest of its late tempor-
ary swelling — having commenced falling above.

Monday, 12th. — The fog which fell last night con-
tinued until late this morning so that we did not get
under way until about nine o'clock.

Immense flock of pigeons on sand bar in the river.

Banks delicately wooded with cotton wood and
willows — grey tints mingled with light green — now
and then, at long intervals, come by settlement —
log houses — cattle standing along shore in the sun-
shine — deep bayous running in among wild forests
that shoot their branches, and half prostrate trunks
athwart.

In some places as we skirt the shore the cattle gaze
for a tune in astonish[ment] and then gallop into the
woods.

Stop at Crawford Court House — a few log houses
on high bank. Justice runs wild in this part of the
country — she uses the sword more than the scales.

Find at Crawford Court House a keel boat with
freight belonging to Mr. Mapes, of N[ew] York —
one of the proprietors of the steam-boat — stop about
two hours to take it on board. Mr. Mapes embarks
also and Mr. Nolan and his horse — Gen[era]l
Montgomery, his negro servants, and a half-grown
bear.

Mrs. Trimble and two other ladies of the place dine
on board.

Resume our course about two o'clock and go on
till dark, when we stop at Clarke's Agency.

174

November 13th. — Monday. Set off about day-
break — pass high, broken ridge of rock coloured
with iron, etc., called the Dardanelles — here Pen-
sion Brailey — great gambling place formerly. It
used to be said if a dollar could get by the Darda-
nelles there was some chance of your carrying it up
the river.

Between eleven and twelve pass along mount[ain]s
of Petit Jean.

Half-past twelve stop at Louisburgh to take on
wood — seat of justice of the county. Hard work
for Justice to get seated as the seat has been changed
every session of the Legislature.

Stop after dusk at Little Rock — in the ev[enin]g
Capt. Brown, agent for settling the Indians, comes on
board — also Mr. , editor of the Gazette.

Wednesday, 14th. — Went on shore to the printing
office of the Gazette — breakfasted with Dr. Cunning-
ham— called on Dr. Fulton — Gov. Pope. Met
with Dr. Ritchie, who begged to be remem[bere]d to
Mr. Peale of Missouri — his brother in Philadelphia].

Dr. Fulton desired to be remem[bere]d to Presi-
d[ent], Gov. Cass, and Mr. McLane.

Judge and family came on board — leave

Little Rock near one o'clock.

Several ladies dine on board — accompany us a
few miles to a farm.

Stop at night on account of snags, etc.

November 15th. — Thursday. Resume our course
at daybreak — pass cotton plantations — cotton
here of fine, long staple — equal to New Orleans
— pass Quipaw settlements (tenant-at-will) — see
groups in a fine, lofty grove.

Pass Quipaw hunting camps on woody banks of
the river.

175

Put Lieut. Dawson on shore at Col. Dallas' cotton
plantation.

Ev[enin]g about sunset, stop at the Post of Arkan-
sas — to land Mr. and Mrs. Gumming and to take
on freight.

November 16th. — Friday. Get under way at day-
break — at nine o'clock enter the cut leading to
White River — in a few miles enter White River —
clear water with yellow, turbid stream of the Ark-
sansas boiling up in it. After some miles, with cy-
press and cotton-wood groves on each side, come to
the Mississippi — sweep round a large island and go
up to Montgomery's Point.

Pass the day at the Point shifting cargo. Point
naked table of land with woods in rear — three or
four disconsolate houses — negroes — half-dressed —
oxen — dogs — bear tied to stake — drinkers -
boatmen.

Leave the Point about four.

Stop at mouth of Arkansas after dark and leave
Mr. Mapes — sail all night.

November 17th. — Saturday. Last night ran re-
peatedly ag[ain]st driftwood — this morn'g eight
o'clock passed thro' Stack Island — reach a beau-
tiful broad and long reach of the river.

Here about twenty years since was a formidable
gang of river pirates thirty or forty in number. Kept
on an island under the eastern shore called Stack
Island and sometimes Robbers' Harbour — ring-
leader named Mason. The band consisted of outcast
Kentuckians, Spaniards, French, etc., etc., etc. —
well armed — resolute — had boats on the river —
horses on the mainland — boarded arks and de-
fenceless boats — noted the cargo — took what they

176

wanted — no resisting them. Some of the keel boats
and barges had crews of forty men well armed —
these the robbers dared not attack. The robbers
have often been seen by these barges lurking about
this island. They could descry boats at a great dis-
tance both up and down the river — they had spies
in New Orleans. The boatmen and traders had to
return by land, by an Indian trail thro' the country
of the Choctaw natives — several hundred miles —
had to cash their merchandise and carry the money
on pack horses. The robbers had trails leading to
the great Indian trail. They would waylay the
traders and rob them. Seldom killed them unless
they fought in defence of their goods. Sometimes
when they surprised poor travellers thro' mistake
they would give them money.

The terror of these robbers spread far and wide.
In those days people looked upon an expedition down
the Mississippi and Ohio as a fearful undertaking —
country wild and unsettled — little known — Indians
— river pirates — alligators, etc., etc., etc. Long
voyage — required hardy and enterprising men —
and then the long journey back thro' savage tribes
and robber hordes.

At length the authorities offered a large reward for
Mason's head. He wished to divide his spoil — he
had a rival ringleader — they quarrelled about di-
vision of spoil. The rival killed him — carried his
head to Natchez and claimed reward — a man pres-
ent who had been robbed on the Indian trail rec-
ognized his buttons on the coat of the robber and
recognized the latter for one of those who had robbed
him. The robber was seized, tried, and hung, and the
band was broken up.

The very island has since been washed away by the
177

floods of the river and no trace of the robbers re-
mains, but the pilot who told me this story said he
had no doubt that thousands of dollars of the rob-
bers' money lay buried about the shore and on the
old Indian trail and could be digged up as the country
became settled and cultivated.

Just below this reach we begin to see neat white-
painted houses and a look of some advanced civilisa-
tion — cotton plantation.1

[At the other end of Irving' s note-book are the following
jottings:]

Clermont, a late chief of the Osages — shrewd, in-
telligent, wary — difficult to be brought to a point.
He and Col. Arbuckle had a great regard for each
other, but often disputed about Indian matters; both
were prone to beat around the bush. One evening he
and the Col[onel] had a long talk in which Clermont
played shy as usual. At length Col. Arb[u]c[k]le got
out of patience: "Well," said he, "you have talked
now for two hours and have said nothing." —
"Brother," replied Clermont, "you have talked
about as much and said about as little, so as it is
growing late, I think" (wrapping himself in his
blanket) "I'll go home."

Gov. Hunter, tall, large, well-formed, fresh-looking
man — low-crowned, large-brimmed white beaver —
boots with eagle spurs — given to grandiloquence, a
large and military mode of expressing himself. I
encamped last night at , for I slept last night.

1 Irving continued with the steamer to New Orleans, where he
passed a few pleasant days. Then he journeyed by stage to Mobile,
whence he passed through Alabama, Georgia, South and North
Carolina, and Virginia to Washington, — "a long and rather dreary
journey," as he calls it. At Columbia, South Carolina, he was
thrown with some of the leading Nullifiers when they were at the
height of their excitement.

178

Old Gen[era]l Nix used to say God made him two
drinks scant.

Little, thick, short-legged Dutchman at Little
Rock — great coward — at time when he was held
up as candidate used to go with three pistols and two
dirks belted round him — one of the pistols being
long, used to get the muzzle filled with dirt. A
swaggering man called at his house and abused him
all to naught. His wife, who had been widow of a
very spirited fellow, exclaimed, "Oh, if my first hus-
band was alive you would not dare to do so in my
house. Ah, then I had a husband!"

Tour of two old Dutch burghers to look for names
of old sturdies. — find sixty — give names and his-
tories of the old sturdies they met with.

Choctaws — much attached to the whites —
boast that they have never killed a white man — call
the whites the Beloved, supposing them to be peculiar
favourites of the deity. The Choctaws are the most
honest of Indians.

Chickasaws — amalgamated with the Choctaws —
their language nearly the same — then* women hand-
some. They came from the upper parts of the
Missouri. Their tradition is that they followed a
chief who had a pole of supernatural virtues. He set
it up occasionally and as long as it remained per-
pendicular they remained in that place — when it
inclined they travelled in the direction it inclined.
In this way they travelled from place to place until
they came to their present residence.

The Quipaws a small remnant of a tribe below
Little Rock — they once sold out and removed to

179

Texas but were drawn back by their love to their
native place.

The bravest and finest race is the Delawares. They
are called the fathers — all the others give them pref-
erence. They used to war with the Osages, who
stand in awe of their fearlessness. "Look at these
Delawares," say the Osages, "deygot short legs — no
can run — must stand and fight a great heap." The
Delawares really are short-legged and the Osages
long.

Delawares — all their equipments of the best —
their camp kettles of brass. They are clean, neat,
civil, generously obliging, light hearted, gay, fearless
— go to the Rocky Mountains in bands of twenty men
— have frequent skirmishes. Excellent hunters —
when they go out to kill a deer you may be sure of
their succeeding.

Pawnees — when they attack in the prairies it is
necessary to tie your horses head to head in circle.
They come round you with feathers, mantles, etc.,
fluttering — great whoops and yells that strike a
panic into the horses.

Pawnees keep in the prairies — will not follow into
the thickets.

Old Osage looked at our steam-boat — at the
Agency with wonder — came abroad, gazed at ma-
chinery, etc. — said, "God must have helped to
make it."

Ralph Izard and another toper fell asleep on a bed
in an inn where there was a ball and supper — woke

180

after the company had gone — called lustily for
supper — waiter told them it was over. "We paid
3$ for ball and supper and must have it." "Impos-
sible— none in the house."-— "Well, give usa candle
and we will go home." Waiter gave them a sperm-
light — they sallied forth — the night was rainy —
they were too tipsy to keep their legs — sat down in
public square — stuck the light on end between them
- tho[ugh]t themselves still at table. The day broke
and showed them still seated toe to toe with the light
burning between them.

Arkansas — continual succession of gentle, fer-
tile, wooded scenery — graceful woods — thickets -
embowered shores and islands — long, winding
bayous — willowed banks — yellow sands — cattle
feeding peacefully along the shore — everything
peaceful but man — land of the bloody hand.

Petit Jean Mountain on the Arkansas — a pictur-
esque line of waving highlands — of mingled rock
and cliff and wood, with far bottom below — oppo-
site these, rich bottoms with hills beyond — river
winds among groves, yellow sand bars, etc. — moun-
t[ain]s with their autumnal tint and dusky haze.
Ev[enin]g house among groves with children about
it — long vistas of river between woody points —
wild geese on sand bars.

When Sarazin [?] chief of the Quipaws return[e]d
with his tribe from their abode at Cadeau, called
on Gov. Pope — spread a white deer skin under
his feet and another on his shoulder as emblem that
they had never shed the blood of a white man. The
old man made a speech about them, remark[in]g he

181

had lost a son, and when he told of his wrath the tears
streamed down his cheeks. "When I went to that
country," said he, "the sun did not seem to shine -
everything was strange and forlorn, but when I re-
turned to this country of my youth where are the
tombs of our fathers, the sun shone bright and
everything was again cheerful."

Arkansas — settlers like to live apart when
they can have good range — raise corn for bread —
cattle which feed on prairie on pea vine or cane-
brake — hogs which find waste in plenty — depend
on their rifles occasionally — work one day out of
seven.

Quipaws — much intermarried with the French —
a great part of them half-breeds — honest — liked
and helped by the whites.

In general the frontiersmen seem to think them-
selves imposed upon by the Indians, because the
latter, having lost nearly all their property, seek to
hold on to what is left.

They have got the Indians' coat and now begrudge
them the fringe.

Old Spanish and French settlers — retain their
characteristics.

They were accustomed to be governed by com-
mandants whose will was law. One who was capri-
cious would exact all kind of services from those under
him and bother them in a thousand ways, and an-
other who was avaricious would squeeze them. Tho'
the gov[ernmen]t is now changed and they have equal
rights with their meddlesome, quarrelsome, litigious,

182

electioneering fellow-citizens of the U. S., they retain
their old, passive acquiescence in the despotism of
public affairs — do not intermeddle or distress them-
selves in elections or worry themselves about public
affairs — have not the enterprise of the Yankees -
nor then* eagerness for growth and conquest. If an
American cultivates twenty acres and has forty un-
cultivated, the next year he cultivates ten more. If
he has three negroes, gets six more, and so with his
stock. The old Spanish and French cultivate the
same number of acres, have the same number of
negroes, etc., etc., year in and year out — content to
live within their income and not eager to increase
it — simple in appearance and habits — remarkably
honest and punctual — kind and neighbourly among
themselves — more civil and courteous than the
Americans — dress in their best on Sundays —
dance — sing — polite to the women — never quarrel
but with the tongue. When one has been about and
returns, great rejoicing, embracing throughout the
family.

Qu[ery] — How do they treat then* negroes?

A[nswer] — Work them hard — feed and clothe
them poorly. It is proverbial in this part of the
country that a Frenchman is hard upon his horse
and his negroes.

Qu. — Do they wear old dresses — white night-
caps — pipe — songs?

There are but two or three families at present at
the fort — most of them are at a settlement below
frontier on river where they retain French language
— keep apart from Americans.

They have nothing of the public spirit that makes
itself uneasy and unhappy about public men and

183

public manners and sinks in sorrow through the news-
papers— nothing of that spirit that sets up two
newspapers in the little village of Little Rock and
sets neighbours by the ears calling each other hard
names and reviling each other because they differ on
abstract points. They have given up competing
with the Americans] who have too much enterprise
and industry for them.

A few old fellows exert a patriarchal sway over the
community. Their word and opinion is law.

Very fond of holidays — they dance and pass their
time merrily.

They do not like Americans; [who, they say]
trouble themselves with cares beyond then* horizon
and impart sorrow thro' newspapers from every
point of the compass.

Mr. Cummings married daughter of Mons. ,

the great man of the place — worth 40 or 50,000$.
She inherits French vivacity of temperament and it
is said rules her husband with the slipper. She is
pretty, dark, black-eyed woman. Her father when
he travels affects the Don — on board steam-boat
has his own serv[an]t — his own wine — cannot
drink steam-boat wine.

Judge , very official — over mindful dignity of

his office — rather slow, but upright and amicable.

At the Post — old-fashioned French-looking
houses.

Abundance of dogs — whenever you hear of poor
people in this part of the country you may be sure to
find abundance of dogs.

184

Old negro with a long, good-humoured horse face and
a straw hat smashed back from it like a mandarin cap.

This day pass Quipaw hunting camps on the border
of the river.

Put Lieut. Dawson on shore at Col. D.'s cotton
plantation.

After sunset stop at the Post of Arkansas — a
century old — originally a Spanish post — then
French — a decayed, ruinous place — old Spanish
wooden building, with piazza — out houses -
French buildings, with casement — piazzas — re-
mains of stockade — at present surrounding garden
and house of Mons. , the principal merch[an]t.

Near the old Spanish house are two large ruins -
neglected kitchen garden.

Town stands on the abrupt end of a flat prairie
that extends seventy miles — French town and
American town — the former on the site of the Span-
ish post — the latter two or three hundred yards off

— melancholy, silent, deserted look of the place —
commands a bend and winding of the river — old
French merch[an]t large, strong-built man with
strong features — tall sons — French jabbered about
the place — young mons[ieur] in blanket surtout.

German merch[an]t at Little Rock who came there
a pedlar — set up store for cash at twenty-five per
cent under the others — never trusted except to sure
people — in five years has made a little fortune —
chuckles at it — Ask him how he invests it. — "Oh

— most proke — tinks I must puy a steam-boat."

Choctaws — believe in witches — one Choctaw set
up for a doctor, — his father, mother, and other rela-

185

lives died. It was suspected he was a wizard and had
practised spells on them — several of the old men
who were not wizards held a council upon it and de-
termined he was a wizard. He heard of it and cleared
out. His own brother set off in pursuit of him,
tracked him for two days and killed him with a rifle.
In such cases they do not attempt to resist or to de-
fend themselves when overtaken.

A small burg — flourishing village — which pub-
lished two rival newspapers, had three hotels and the
usual number of judges, generals, and colonels, not to
speak of lawyers and doctors.

186

ESOPUS AND DUTCH TOUR-
1833

September llth, 1833. --Tuesday. Leave Albany
with Mr. VanBuren2 and John Van Buren for Kinder-
hook.

Near Albany — Kiddshofen, where it is said Kidd*
buried money. Not far below about one mile is a
rough, rocky hill with old brick house. Here fortunes
have been spent seeking for copper.

Thirteen miles below Albany we pass Barren
Island, — a rocky island round backed, commanding
a pass of the river. Kinderhook — Brom Van Alstyn,
a helter-skelter way. Woodchuck.

Visit Jesse Marron — trees loaded with fruit about
the house.

1 Irving goes down the Hudson from Albany to Nyack, visiting
both sides of the river. His tour takes him through parts of Ulster,
Sullivan, Orange, and Rockland counties, finally ending in New
York State at Tappan. Here he crossed the border into New Jer-
sey, reaching Hackensack about a fortnight after leaving Albany.
In jotting down the dates, Irving is amusingly careless. The en-
tries begin with Tuesday, September 11. Other dates that he gives
are Wednesday, September 11, Sunday, September 15, Monday
16th, Tuesday 17th, Sunday 21st, Monday 22d, Tuesday 23d,
and Wednesday, date omitted. Obviously he lost track of dates in
this out-of-the-way tour through the old Dutch regions of New
York State.

1 Martin Van Buren was born in Kinderhook, in December,
1782. about four months before the birth of his friend, Irving.

* William Kidd, the Scotch navigator, who was commissioned to
put down piracy, but who was said to have turned pirate himself.
Some of Kidd's buried treasure was found on Gardiner's Island,
and there are legends of other hidden loot which persist to this day.
Kidd was hanged in 1701 for having murdered one of his own men.

187

September 12th. — Wednesday. Beautiful view
along the valley of the Kinder-hook hill from Wyn-
coop's house — breakfast at Dr. Beekman's.

Training day at Kinderhook — legions of cake
— carts — men in old cocked hats and parti-col-
oured calico trousers selling cake.

Old black Symes seventy years old. Has been
drunk the last fifty — contracts to work and employs
black men under him whom he never pays.

Frank who had lived with Mr. Van Ness l and recol-
lects my shooting the crow twenty-five years since -
abundance of drovers at the training — worthies of
Kinderhook — Brom Van Alstyn.

Meet at breakfast Dr. Clark, father to Mrs. Beek-
man.

Leave at half-past eleven — drive by the village —
fine view of Kinderhook with Catskill Mount [ain]s
behind — valley of the Kleine Kill where the guid-
men lived — rich valley — Catskill at distance.

Hudson — South Bay with romantic promontory
joining our house — Catskill Mount[ain]s opposite.

Race of men inhabit side of hill near Hudson —
Indian habits — huntsmen — fishermen — used to
come to Hudson Indian file — thought their lawyers
cheated them — Van Buren pleaded their cause.

September 15th. — Sunday. Serene day — golden
sunshine — shimmer of the landscape — universal
note of the crickets.

Ev[enin]g. Walk to the hills.

Monday, 16th. — Leave Staatsburg ten o'clock —
ride into interior — Crum Elbow — Pleasant Valley

1 During the two months that followed the death of Matilda
Hoffman, Irving, eager to escape from city lif e, lived as the guest of
his friend, Judge William P. Van Ness, in the same home at Kinder-
hook where, in 1833, he was again a visitor, this time sharing the
hospitality of Martin Van Buren.

188

- pear trees — nut trees and sycamores — farms

- woods — fertile little valleys — arrive at Po[ugh]-
keepsie about two — put up at Hatch's.

See Gilbert Livingston — Judge Emmett — Mr.
Theron Budd.

Tuesday, 17th. — Cross ferry — high banks —
drive up road among hills.

Paltz — in rich valley between range of moun-
t[ain]s — headlands — rocks and trees — stream runs
thro' valley — Budd's Tavern — neat rooms — old
fashioned — smoke on the Shawangunk mountains.

Catskill Mounts in the distance — hazy — Shaw-
angunk Mount[ain]s — woody with rocky headlands.

Trees of the country — oak — black walnut, etc.

Paltz — stone houses.

Mr. Budd — little stout man with red nose.

Old Fort 1703 — large old stone house — small
casement windows — Dubois — Elting — Lefevre —
Hasbrouck — Deyo.

1731 — Oct. 7

A Du Bois

Survivor of 12 Patentees

Rude, old, square grave-stone rudely engraved :

Noah Elting and Jacomenje — his spouse.

Rich valley or plains with woods — groves — or-
chards— meadows — river winding thro' — Shongo
Mount [am] s with farms — woods — uplands.

Rocky point or headland where there is a deep lake
one mile long with fish in it.

Van Wagener — Mrs. DeWitt, Milliner.

Tuesday — Wednesday, 18th. — At Kingston.1

1 Originally called "Esopus" (after the Esopus Indians) by the
Dutch who settled here in 1652. Twelve years later the English
came into control, and in 1669 the name was changed to Kingston.

189

Mr. Su[y]dam's coachman — liberated several
years since — goes to N[ew] York — Albany —
comes back — says he was never a slave until
now.

Kingston — at the west end of the village was the
fort where DeWitt built a mill.

Rich plain — old De Witt farm-house — farms of
Wyncoops and Ten Eycks — rich old names —
Dutch consider it a disgrace to let their farms go
out of their families — have retained them from
generation to generation.

Corner of orchard where Esopus the old race-horse
was buried.

Negroes buried near by.

Spooks rise there and on a blue stone.

Old people in village believe in witches, ghosts,
etc.

Old bl[ac]k woman at Elmendorf 's strong believer.

Brink — a doctor who cures by charms — witch
doctor — witches of Rondout burnt the cattle, etc.

Miss Wyncoop — old maid — goes from house to
house visiting — skilled in pastry, etc., etc. — in-
vited wherever there are preparations for a feast —
a great gossip.

Old Dutch house — every room on a different
level — steps to go up and down.

Jacob's Valley — brook running thro' it — old
Indian spring — considered as haunted.

Mr. Elmendorf 's brother went sparking — Dutch
lass seated on his lap broke his pipe to pieces — re-
turning home tho[ugh]t he heard something on the
spook ground — ran — heard the rattling of his pipe
— tho[ugh]t it the rattling of chains — scampered
home — forced open door in spite of latches, and
pitched head foremost on the floor.

190

Hunting in the mount[ain]s — bears — deer -
lakes in the mountains where deer are hunted in
canoes by torch-light.

Old Dutch house with great sycamore tree under
which an old Dutchman used to sit and read a
Dutch Bible in a chanting tone.

Friday, 20th. — Call on Mr. Snyder — county
clerk — inspect old treaties in Dutch and English
with Indians tied by wampum belt — records, etc.,
kept in great deal chest with curious, cumbrous old
Dutch steel lock.

Snyder, a jovial-spoken, good-humoured man.

Among the records an account of trials, etc., in
which was concerned Hildegarda Van Steghenhorst.
She once kept a store — was summoned to appear in
court — asked if ready for trial. Yes if judge would
swear and kiss the book that he would decide rightly
between all parties — said he had sworn so when he
had entered upon office — well, she tho[ugh]t he
could have no objection to swearing again by way of
refreshing his memory.

She sues a boy for breaking her windows with a
pebble stone — appears to have been a shrew.

After leaving Kingston half-past ten — drive
through Hurley — then to Marlboro town — enter
into beautiful valleys between Shongo Mountains
and Alleghanys — former cultivated in some places
to summits — hamlets gleaming on sides.

Clouds rolled off to Catskill or Blue Mountains.

Vast sloping sides of Shongo Mountain richly cov-
ered with opulent farms, etc.

Throughout the country solid stone farm-houses —
Dutch or rural aristocracy.

Dutch farm-houses with good barns — pines —
sycamore, elm, and willow trees.

191

Valleys with immense fruit trees — rich meadows
— winding streams.

Roseton — scattered hamlet or village in rich
valley — with the broad, wooded slopes of the Shaw-
angunk Mount[ain]s — descend to it — noise of
drum from mountainside — training day.

Beautiful variegated side of soft sloping Shawan-
gunk — distant blue summits of the Catskills.

Training — picturesque groups on border of a
pastoral stream (the Rondout) — militia training in
rich meadow with magnificent mountain scenery in
the background — horses galloping about the mead-
ows — one with two men on it.

Beautiful drive thro' rich valleys with Rondout
winding thro' — Alleghanys to right — Shawangunk
to left.

Dine at Widow Hournbeck's — ham and eggs.

Waggon loads of the tram bands arrive — heavy
shower.

Set off about six o'clock — after a time a heavy
shower comes on with thunder — dark — only see
our road by flashes of lightning.

Arrive safe at Ellenville where we put up for the
night at very indifferent inn kept by .

Pomposity of Dutch dignitaries — Dutch proud -
leave Ellenville at six o'clock — drive along the
hollow which narrows to Wurtsboro — at Mr.
Nevins' — good house — see Judge Demick.

Leave Wurtsboro at ten — cross the Shawangunk
mountains. Splendid view from the summit of the
mountain looking towards Highlands — surveying
the varied valley of the Wallkill — and a rich,
broken country of vast extent watered by vari-
ous streams winding their way to bear tributes to
the Hudson.

192

Distant line of blue mountains across the country
with the gap on entrance to the Highlands thro'
which the Hudson enters.

Scenery of all these parts like the Italian scenery
bordering on the Apennines.

Sunday, 21st. — At Goshen — Edsel's Hotel -
heard good sermon from the Episcopal preacher, Mr.
Clark of Brooklyn. Dine at Gen[era]l Wyckham's
- met Mr. Van Duzer there.

People in this neighbourhood well off — rich —
live frugally and put out their money on bond and
mortgage.

Pass the ev[enin]g at Mr. Van Dyck — editor of
the Jackson paper — his mother Mrs. Van Dyck of
Kinderhook.

Monday, 22d. — Leave Goshen little after six.

Breakfast at Monroe.

This was the headquarters of Claudius Smith,
head of a gang of Skinners1 during the Revolu-
tion — he had a cave in this neighbourhood and
one back of Goshen — was taken and hanged at
Goshen.

Ramapough Mountain and River at Iron Works —
Schunemunk Mountains between Goshen and the
River Mountains.

Haverstraw — Smith's house on a hill where Andre"
and Arnold had an interview — stone house (white)
Arnold came down in boat with Smith — landed on
shore opposite Victoria — sent Smith on board to see
Andre* — they had interview on shore till daylight —

1 During the British occupancy of New York City (1776-1783)
that region along the Hudson River known as " neutral ground "
(extending some forty miles northward from Spuyten Duyvil) was
eubj ect both to American and British marauders. The Americans were
nicknamed "Skinners": the British, "Cowboys." (See Cooper's
"The Spy.")

193

afraid to send Andre" back to the ship lest people
should see it — pulled up along shore two miles and
then went to Smith's house — remained there a day
or two — Smith disguised Andre and crossed the
river with him — left him near Tarrytown — Smith
was taken — confined in Goshen gaol — his wife
came to see him — exchanged dresses with him — he
got off — rode behind a friend — got to N[ew] York

— went to England — after the peace returned to
N[ew] York — came up here but could not stand the
scorn of the people — died poor. The Smiths once
owned much land hereabouts — a place called Smith
Clove — mostly lawyers. The property has slipped
out of the hands of the family. There is a lawyer, a
nephew of Smith's, at Haverstraw.

Leave Haverstraw about half-past eight.

Tuesday, 23d. — Drive along river one mile and up
clove — pass thro' ridge of mount[ain]s into open
country — snug stone farm-houses. Waggon breaks
down close by a farmer's of the name of Herring who
assists us. Waggoner named Giraud aids us and takes
out trunks in his waggon — go on for two miles to
Nyack post-office at Clarkstown, kept by Ablones -
got waggon mended — dine there.

Rockland County — hilly — diversified — snug
brown stone farm-houses perched on hillocks and
commanding fine views.

Autumnal day — maple trees tint the forest —
noise of cricket and tree toad.

Drive from Ablones' to Nyack — fine view thro'
the opening of the trees and hills, over Tappan Bay
to the opposite shore — snug stone cottages of Nyack

— bold bluffs to the left advancing into the Hudson

— romantic coast to the south — range of rocky
heights embracing the intervale — fine drive along

194

the coast to Tappan — road near the river with belt
of trees and shrubs and rocks below it.

Drive up Tappan Strat — number of Dutch wag-
gons returning from the landing.

Women with Dutch sun bonnets — people talk
Dutch — neatness of houses — grass plots — open
upon pleasant rural country with belt of woody
hills to the left — the line that terminates in the
pallisades.

Stop at Judge - -'s, former member of Assembly

- seventy years of age. His brother eighty and their
two wives taking tea in the little hall of the farm-
house — granddaughter of thirteen years of age with
uncommonly fine, large black eyes. Farm stands at
some distance from the road, with meadows between

- old man's son and grandson come in.

See from the house the hill where Andre* was hanged.

Drove thro' Tappan — still, quiet little village -
old church where Andre" was confined — quiet
churchyard with old Dutch and French names — inn
where court marshall [martial] was held — pleasant
rural country around.

Leaving Tappan we pass thro' Harrington — very
neat Dutch stone cottages. Ask an old lady whom
we meet on the road to whom such and such belong

- we find one was hers — compliment her on its
neatness — quite a picture.

Arrive about eight o'clock at Hackensack.

Wednesday. — We drive out. Resume tour at
Hackensack.

Leave Hackensack — drive thro' English neigh-
bourhood to Communipaw. Old Van Horn saw
N]ew] York burnt1 — waited to see Trinity steeple

1 This was the conflagration which took place in September,
1776. By the British, who were then in possession of New York, the

195

fall, but turned away his head and when he looked
again it was down.

[The last note-book, 184.2, is devoted to Irving's trip
from New York via England, to Spain, where he took
up his duties as American Minister.]

April 10th. — Sunday. Drive down to White
Hall in carriage with Abm Schermerhorn. * Embark
on board steam ferry-boat, to be taken on board of
Liverpool packet ship "Independence" — Cap.
Holdridge. Accompanied to ship by Ebenr Irving
and his son Washington, J. Treat Irving, Irving
Paris, Henry Brevoort, Charles Augustus Davis —
arrived on board and set sail before twelve o'clock
with a fair wind.

Passengers — Henry Lee, Jr., of Boston, Hector
Ames,2 Mr. and Mrs. Patterson of Boston, Mr. Little
of ditto. Had an easy, pleasant voyage, without any
incident of moment excepting the losing of a boy
overboard — a fine lad who was making his first voy-
age. Ship was going at the rate of nine or ten miles
an hour — hove to and lowered boat, but it was too
late to save him.

28th. — We came in the Channel with a head wind;
when, a steamer coming in sight, most of the passen-
gers, myself among the number, got on board and
were landed this day in the evening at Bristol. Put
up there for the night at the Hotel.

May 1st. — Sunday. Set off with Hector Ames,

fire was attributed to the American Revolutionists, but Wash-
ington and the members of Congress had decided not to burn New
York, and the general belief is that the catastrophe had no incen-
diary origin. Almost five hundred houses were destroyed.

1 Schermerhorn, Brevoort and Davis were among the merchant
princes of their day.

2 Hector Ames, a young New York friend, invited by Irving to
act as one of his two attaches of the Legation at Madrid.

196

X. <^J, ^* <

A*u. ,

^^) »^

* »- AV^.-*^r^ • •v

&L~ •

-^ /*?. S ('4*,4

FACSIMILE OF THE FIRST PAGE OF IRVING'S DIARY

Beginning the day he left New York to assume his office of Minister
to Spain. Apart from his brother and three of his nephews, the
intimate friends who saw Irving off were, as this page records, Henry
Brevoort and Charles Augustus Davis, whose homes were the resorts
of so many famous writers.

Mr. Lee, and Mr. Little in railroad cars for London,
where we arrived in about four hours. Mr. Lee,
Hector Ames, and myself took lodgings at Thomas
Hotel, Berkley Square. Walked about the west end
of the town, the parks, etc., with Lee and Ames.
Lovely weather — parks crowded with groups of
populace, men, women, and children on the grass —
great parade of carriages in St. James Park. Felt
singularly low spirited. Dreaded to throw myself
once more into this turbulent stream of life and to
encounter the harrassing parade and dissipation of
the great world.

May 2d. — Called on Mr. Everett — Mrs. Bates —
ordered clothes at Stultz. — Preston1 — ev[enin]g
went out to Leslie's — he was not at home. Returned
home fatigued and dispirited.

3d. — Called with Everett on Lord Aberdeen —
met with cordial reception — talked about affairs of
Spam — called on Bandinel.2 Evening at opera —
"Lucia de Lammennoor" — but tolerably per-
formed — called this day at Murray's.3 My heart was
in my throat on finding myself in the drawing-room,
the scene of many an interesting literary meeting at
the early period of my London career. Kindly re-
ceived by Murray and his family — promised to dine
with them on my return to town.

1 William C. Preston (1794-1860), the South Carolina statesman
and orator, who, a quarter of a century earlier, had met Irving in
Liverpool, and later in South Carolina during Nullification times.
Letters between these old friends were exchanged until Irving's
death.

1 James B. Bandinel, of the Foreign Office, the antiquary of
whom Irving wrote to his sister (May 9, 1842), "He is a peculiar
character; a capital scholar, a man variously and curiously in-
formed, of great worth, kindness, and hospitality."

' John M. Murray (1778-1843). Irving's famous English pub-
lisher, at whose rooms in Albermarle Street. Scott, Byron, Southey,
Campbell, and many other great writers had met in days gone by.

197

Wednesday, 4th. — Dined at Everett's — met there
with Rogers1 — accompanied him in the evening to
Lady Holland's2 in West Street, in the house formerly
occupied by her mother, Lady Coffrich. Here Lady
Holland keeps up a kind of Holland House on a small
scale. Here was her Prime Minister Allen. Here
opposite to her was seated Lady Seymour, the Queen
of Beauty, dressed in black and looking very beauti-
ful. Here was the Bishop of , very lively and

conversable — Col. Charles Fox, grown stout and
grey.

Thursday, 6th. — Accompanied Mr. Everett to the
levee. In antechamber was introduced to the diplo-
matic corps — St. Aulaire, the French Ambassador

, the Russian. Cordial meeting with Sir R. Peel,

who invited me to dine with him on the follow[in]g
Saturday, but declined as I am going out of town.
Made acquaintance with Lord Stanley, Duke of
Buccleuch, etc.

Queen pleasing in her appearance, acquits her-
self with grace and ease. Prince Albert tall, well
formed, a bland, prepossessing countenance and
demeanour.

Friday, 7th. — Set off at eight-forty-five o'clock in
railroad cars for Birmingham, where arrived about
two o'clock. Found Sister Sarah and her daughter
Marianne at home.

Saturday, 8th. — Returned to town in the after-

1 Samuel Rogers (1763-1855), the banker-poet, renowned for
his literary breakfasts, — an old acquaintance of living's.

2 Lady Holland was the widow of Henry Richard Fox, 3d Baron
Holland (1773-1840), whose home, Holland House, was the famous
resort of statesmen and men of letters. Irving, as he says, did not
visit Holland House, which was in Kensington, but a smaller estab-
lishment kept up by Lady Holland in South Street, not West Street.
Lady Holland's maiden name was Elizabeth Vassall, and the name
Irving gives her mother is not easy to find.

198

THE HOME — IN BIRMINGHAM — OF IRVING'S BROTHER-IN-LAW
HENRY VAN WART

Here Irving wrote "Rip Van Winkle," and other parts of "The Sketch Book,"
published in 1819. Thus in this English house, American literature may, from
the point of view of international fame, be said to have had its origin.

From the water-colour made in 1870, by Thomas Wakeman, and now for the
first time reproduced.

noon train. Took up my quarters with Mr. James
Bandinel in the Little Cloisters, Westminster Abbey,
where I was joined in the evening by Hector Ames.
Dined at Mr. Rogers. Lord John Russell and Lady
there — Lord Prudhoc — Leslie. Ev[enin]g with
Rogers to Marquis of Northampton's soiree — see
Young, Milnes, Galley Knight, Hallam.

Sunday, 9th. — Lee breakfasted with us. At-
tended morning service in the Abbey — sat in the
stalls of the prebendary — sermon by Mr. Frere —
service beautifully chanted. Dined with Mr. Bandi-
nel, Lee, and Hector Ames and Mr. Annandales,
3 Great Queen St. — where we met Mr. McCulloch —

Mr. and Mrs. , who recently were three years hi

U[nited] States about which Mr. has published

a very good-humoured work.

Evening at Mr. Everett's where I met Miss
Rogers, Dr. and Mrs. Booth, Mr. Romaine Dillon,
Mr. Broadhead (employed in researches concerning
early hist[ory] of New York).

Monday, 10th. — Mr. Broadhead breakfasted with
us — gave me some documents concerning New
York.

Dined at home — Compton, Charles Mills, Frank
Mills, Lord Canning (son of George Canning), Mr.
Lee, Leslie.

Tuesday, llth. — Had at breakfast Mr. de Gay-
anjos, an Arabic scholar, Consul to Tunis — has pub-
lished "Arabic Dynasties in Spain" — Mr. Romaine

Dillon, and Mr. Moore of N. Y., lately from

Madrid. Dined at Murray's — met there Moore and
Lockhart and Leslie. Moore looks thinner than when
I last saw him — has had trouble in his family. His
son Russel has returned from the army broken in
health and threatened with consumption. Tom has

199

been somewhat wild — has got into scrapes by his
amours — had to go to India to escape prosecution.
Last news of him he had sold out and was returning
home. Moore speaks despondingly as if he fears he
shall eventually have to come upon the Literary
Fund.1

Murray looks as well as when I parted with him
about ten years since. His son John, who is a steady,
worthy fellow, mainly conducts the business and
manages both that and his father.

Wednesday, 12ih. — Drove down into the city —
visited Aspinwall at his office.

Called on the Rothschilds and drew for my
quarter's salary — two or three of the young
Rothschilds in their office — Jew-looking gentlemen,
stout and greasy — invited me to dine with them
on Sunday, but I declined as I should be out of
town.2

Monday. — This morning I breakfasted with Miss
Rogers where I met Wordsworth,3 Rogers, the Miss
Stanleys, daughters of Lord (once Sir John) Stanley,
Lockhart, Leslie.

After breakfast accompanied Rogers, etc., to Les-
lie's to look at his picture of the Christening.4

Dined at the Anniversary of the Literary Fund —
Prince Albert presided. I sat between Moore and
Hallam. Bishop of Gloucester opposite and Mr.
Everett — met Lockhart, Lord Mahon, Lord Lans-

1 The poet's diary under May 10 shows his high regard for
Irving.

2 Irving went to Birmingham that Sunday.

8 That Irving had met the great English poet appears to be here
for the first time recorded. Wordsworth was then seventy-two
years of age, and in the next year became Poet Laureate on the
death of Southey.

4 The Royal Christening. His picture of the Coronation had
been very successful.

200

downe, Marquis of Northampton — Mr. James * —
Mr. Milnes, etc. — very nervous throughout the
dinner, knowing my health was to be drunk. Sir
Robert St. Inglis introduced it with a very kind and
complimentary speech. It was cheered in the warm-
est manner, which contributed to embarrass me.
Rose, declared my want of talent for public speak-
ing, and returned thanks. After dinner James came
up and shook hands with me cordially by way of
renewing old acquaintance.

At this dinner Campbell was deputed to give
Hallam's health. He made an introductory speech,
but, having drunk too much wine, became so prosy
and maudlin that he was absolutely clamoured
down.2

Thursday, ISth. — Breakfasted with Hallam —
met there with Wordsworth, Everett — dined with
Rogers — met there Lord Prudhoc — Lord John and
Lady Russell, Leslie.

Evening, accompanied Mr., Mrs. and Miss Everett
to the Queen's fancy ball.

Friday, 14th. — Breakfasted with Sir Robert St.
Inglis — met there Wordsworth, Milnes, young
Wordsworth,3 Everett, Bandinel.

After breakfast went with Bandinel to Egyptian

1 G. P. R. James (1799-1860), the English novelist.

* We learn from Moore that Irving's nervousness was caused in
great measure by the fact that he had broken down in his speech
as chairman at the dinner given Dickens in New York. Moore
also shows that Lpckhart was equally nervous, and would not go
to the dinner until assured that his health would not be drunk.
The fluent Everett made amends for Irving's shyness, and Hallam,
as Irving tells us in his prefatory epistle to Harper's edition of
Beattie's biography of Campbell, came to that poet's rescue and
paid him such a tribute as both convicted the company of their
discourtesy and soothed the sensibilities of the insulted man of letters.

1 Young Wordsworth may have been the poet's nephew, Chris-
topher Wordsworth (1807-1855), afterwards Bishop of Lincoln and
a well-known theological writer.

201

Halls, British Museum — called at Miller's — ac-
companied Miller to see Mrs. Miller and John Miller
beyond Knightsbridge.

Dined at home — went with Bandinel to the Ger-
man opera, Covent Garden — "Don Juan," miser-
ably performed.

Saturday, 15th. — Lee breakfasted with us —
called on Catlin1 — Lady Strafford (Miss Caton)
whom I found grown rather plump, but looking well,
and as usual full of good sense and good humour -
called on Charles Bristed, and invited him to break-
fast to-morrow.

Dined at Lord Stanley's — present, Mr. and Mrs.
Everett, Lord and Lady Mahon, Lord and Lady
Canning.

Evening at Mrs. Bates' with Mrs. Everett.

Sunday, 16th. — Charles Bristed took an early
breakfast with us — set off at nine-forty-five o'clock
in railroad cars for Birmingham, where I arrived at
half-past two.

Dined at home — evening, the Goddards, etc.,
came in.

Tuesday, 18th. — Dined at William Van Wart's,
with the family.

Wednesday, 19th. — Passed the day at home.
Capt. Holdridge came up from Liverpool to dine with
us. Mr. Church2 dined here also. Ev[enin]g, Mr.
Goddard's family, Miss Koll, etc.

20th. — At home — afternoon, Mr. Lee and Hector
Ames arrived — ev[enin]g, at Matilda KolPs.

Friday, 21st. — Leave Birmingham at twelve

1 George Catlin (1796-1872), the American artist and author,
famous for his paintings of American Indians.

2 Presumably Edward Church, who, in 1820, had interested
Washington Irving and his brother Peter in the steam-boat enter-
prise on the Seine.

202

o'clock in railroad car (London line) in company with
Mr. Lee and Hector Ames. Stop at Weedon Station,
Northamptonshire — take post chaise for Sulgrave,
natal place of the Washington family, from whence
John and Laurence Washington emigrated to
America in Cromwell's time — John, great grand-
father of George Washington. We drove by cross-
roads checked by numerous gates across the country
— rich-looking though low country — huge trees,
overgrown hedges, old grey stone villages, with
Tudor style of architecture — stone-shafted windows
with water tables, moss-grown, weather-stained —
old grey Gothic churches with towers wrapped in
ivy — some of the oldest-looking villages I have seen
in England. Large, rambling, Gothic mansions —
gardens with Yew trees of formal cut.

At Litchborough a large, picturesque Tudor man-
sion with various gables, stone-shafted windows —
escutcheons in relief — one with three coronets.

Canons Ashby — old Gothic mansion by roadside,

at present owned by Sir , — immense trees —

elms, etc., — some overrun with ivy.

Arrived at Sulgrave a little after four — stop at
vicarage — Rev. Mr. Harden — send in card —
follow it — find Mr. Harden and Mrs. Harden and
Mr. Clark — clergyman of neighbouring parish —
neat parsonage — little lawn in front with rustic seats,
shrubs, etc. — polite reception — wine and biscuit —
Mr. Harden knew of the monument of the Washing-
ton family. He and Mr. Clark accomp[ani]ed me to
church. It is a grey Gothic church — square tower
- has been repaired in simple Gothic style — singu-
lar green mound near the church called Castle Close.
It appears to have been surrounded by a ditch —
may have been part of fortress or keep in old times.

203

Mr. Clark says there are several [of] what are called
Roman and Danish mounds in this part of the coun-
try — and remains of Roman camps near Daventry,
Charlton near Brockley, Deddington, etc. — rural
scenery round church — parsonage in distance with
shrubbery — low, grey, thatched stone houses of
village with casements — rich green meadows with
rough hedges — numerous cattle.

Church simple — old oak pews with seats that let
down on hinges or were for poor — tomb of Wash-
ington: flat stone or pavement close by the pulpit —
inscription in black letter.

Here lyeth buried ye bodies of
Laurence Wasshington Gent, and
Anne his Wyff by whome he had issue
IIII sons and VII daughters
Laurence died Anno [obliterated]
and Anne deceased 6 day of October
Anno 1564.

Above the inscription is an escutcheon bearing the
Washington arms.

Below are brass plates on which are engraved
effigies of the sons and daughters — also an effigy on
brass plate of a female figure, probably Anne — the
effigy of Laurence obliterated. Mr. Harden said the
remains of this monument should be carefully pre-
served. Walked to the old manor house — now
much dilapidated — old grey stone and plastered
house with great grey stone stables and outhouses —
has been purchased not long since by Colonel Hutch-
inson, who resides a few miles distant. It is farmed
by a Mr. Lets, a hale, sturdy farmer. Were shewn
about the house by a plump country lass. House has

204

never had much pretension to grandeur, tho' there are
remains on a gable end of escutcheon of arms with
supporters — lion and dragon rampant — and es-
cutcheon on border of old Gothic window of dairy.
The rooms are low and panelled — old oaken stair-
case — the remains of a hall flagged with bl[ac]k stone
-large fireplace — wooden joists of ceiling. A
portion of the hall is divided off into a dairy — great
pans of cream (they have seventeen cows) — Gothic
window — on the walls in rude relief the family sup-
porters— lion and green dragon — old, plain fire-
places upstairs. The family arms were formerly em-
blazoned in coloured glass in one of the windows, but
we were told Colonel Hutchinson had removed them
to his room at his residence. Little garden sur-
rounded by low stone wall — formerly probably a
terrace. On the gable end near the acorns is a primi-
tive sun-dial such as we see in the old country houses
in this part of the country — lofty old elms about the
building — rooks sailing about. Everything has an
ancient air, which indeed pervades this part of the
country — literally a piece of old England — a coun-
try little hackneyed — mere cross-roads — little
travelled. Farmer came home while we were looking
about the house. Tall, stout, fresh complexion —
coat square with deep pockets — breeches — gaiters
— very respectful. The house is to undergo repairs
which will probably obliterate some of its peculiari-
ties. It is visited occasionally. Mr. Harden says
there are inquiries made now and then about Wash-
ington. It is a tradition that Queen Elizabeth, before
queen, was at Sulgrave. It is recorded that she was
in a retired part of Northamptonshire. Primitive
manners of country people — Mr. Clark gave an
entertainment to about 1,000 country people. They

205

danced on the green — very orderly — not a rude or
profane word spoken.

Mr. Harden wished us to dine with him. We de-
clined. While post-horses were putting to we took a
snug dinner of cold beef and ham with home-brewed
ale at a decent little village ale house — number of
country lads smoking in outer room — landlady tidy,
short little woman. We were waited upon by her
daughter, a very pretty girl with fair complexion and
fan* hair. Everything neat and good — excellent
bread and nice butter. Left Sulgrave about quarter
past five — returned thro' the old grey moss-grown
village with escutcheon on the doors and reached
Weedon about seven — and at eight Hector and my-
self set off in cars for London where we arrived at
eleven and put up at Victoria Hotel. Lee returned
to Birmingham.

Saturday, 22d. — Breakfasted at Victoria Hotel.
Drove in hackney coach to Southampton railroad
station. Set off at eleven o'clock A. M. — arrived at
Southampton a little before three, having been de-
layed near an hour on road — rainy day. Put
trunks on board steam-boat Grand Turk — call
on the Aspinwalls — find them all at home — Col.

and Mrs. A., Eliza, and . Take dinner of

cold meat. Col. accompanies me to steam-boat. Set
sail five o'clock — pass the night on sofa in cabin —
quiet voyage.

Sunday, 23d. — Arrive at Havre six o'clock — send
for Mr. Taylor — get our luggage passed at custom
house without examination. Mr. Beasley drives to
town in his carriage to meet us — takes us out to his
country retreat where we breakfast — Mr. Forceth of
N. York there. Mr. Winslow pays us a visit. Drive
out on cote — call on Mr. Winslow — see his wife,

206

daughter, and niece, and youngest daughter. Dine
at liome — at Beasley's. Mr. Forceth and Mr.
Taylor there — retire to bed at nine o'clock.

Monday, 24th. — Set off at quarter-past five in
steam-boat for Rouen. In the course of our voyage
we pass a vessel which had run on a sand-bar and been
upset by the violence of the current. Nine men on
the sides making frantic signals of distress and crying
" Sauvez-nous! Sauvez-nous! " - put out our yawl —
several boats put off also from the shore to their
assistance, but they cannot get to her on account of
the violence of the current. The distress of the poor
fellows increases. Sympathy of ladies on board of
our boat who weep and implore the captain to aid
the poor people. The capt[ain] put steam-boat
about, passes wreck, tows the boat up to her, and
gets off the men. One boy had been drowned.
Send the men on shore, all but one who was wounded
— a subscription was made for him and fifteen
dollars collected on board. Arrive at Rouen half-
past one — put up at the Grand H6tel d'Angle-
terre — visit Cathedral — tomb of Longsword.

Tomb and monument of Duke.

In one part of monument he is represented as an
infant in nurse's arms — in another as a warrior in
complete armour and mounted on horseback. Below
on sarcophagus is his emaciated body in winding
sheet.

Ev[enin]g at theatre — play "II y a Seize Ans."

Tuesday, 25th. — Leave Rouen at five o'clock in
steam-boat for Paris — breakfast and dine on board,
where we have an excellent restaurant. Arrive at
St. Germain at quarter-past seven — depart on rail-
road cars at eight — arrive in Paris where I am met
by Mr. Storrow and conducted to his house.

207

Sunday, 80th. — Drive out with Mr. and Mrs.
Storrow and Hector Ames to Meudon, thence to St.
Cloud, where we dine — return in ev[enin]g.

Tuesday. — Ev[enin]g. Go with Gen[era]l Cass to
Mr. Guizot's,1 Minister of Foreign Affairs. Mr.
Guizot small, thin, dark man with grey hair — speaks
very fan- English. Introduced there to the Prince

, former head of Polish nation — an elderly man

with a pale, somewhat melancholy countenance,
amiable in his deportment and manners — spoke with
much interest of Spain, tho' he had never been there.

Mr. Dupin came up to Gen[era]l Cass — after a
friendly salutation, ''Well," said Gen[era]l C., allud-
ing to the question of the right of search,2 "c' est une
affaire finie." "Nette!" replied Dupin, with an ex-
pressive gesture. Then, speaking of the English
pretext of philanthropy, he snapped his fingers, —
"Bah! It's a mere thing in the air; while at bottom
there are the most interested motives."

Speaking the other day in the Chambre on the
signing of the treaty by the French Ministry — "It
would be a matter, not of censure," said he, "but of
impeachment."

Dupin has a remarkably shrewd, penetrating look,
and a concise, trenchant mode of expressing himself .

Greek envoy — A large, good-humoured man —
had not much conversation with him.

The saloon large, square, with somewhat of a
vaulted ceiling — dingy and smoked. Furniture,
etc., bears evidence of having been much used, as is

1 Francois Pierre Guillaume Guizot (1787-1874), the distin-
guished French historian and statesman.

2 Great Britain's attempt to maintain the right of search on the
high seas was vigorously opposed by General Cass, and mainly
owing to the argument of the American Minister, France refused
to ratify the Quintuple Treaty.

208

generally the case in public establishments of the
kind. Returned home before ten o'clock.

The question of the right of search has roused all
France, and is producing an effect throughout the
Continent.

When the question of the ratification of the treaty
was in suspense the Duke of - — ,l went to the
King and observed it, was an affair not of a ministry,
but of a dynasty.

June 3d. — Visit the Invalid[e]s in company with
Sarah and Hector Ames.

Napoleon's remains in a chappel ardente2 hung with
purple, wrought with bees. On each side the entrance
to the chapel were seated a veteran invalide in uni-
form, holding a tri-coloured standard planted in the
ground. Another veteran patrolled about the en-
trance. Through a grille we had a full view of the in-
terior. Napoleon's body is in a sarcophagus of some
dark kind of wood richly wrought. His imperial
mantle was spread on it — upon it were deposed his
crowns. At the foot of the sarcophagus and much
lower was a richly wrought and gilt box containing
his heart. On top of it was his sword, and under a
glass case his famous little cocked hat. Around the
sarcophagus lay quantities of wreaths or chaplets of
immortelles; votive offerings, from tune to time, at
his shrine.

June 4^h. — Saturday. At eight o'clock in the
evening drive out with Gen[era]l Cass to Neuilly to
be presented to the King.8 Pleasant drive through

» Ferdinand d'Orle'ans (1810-1842), eldest son of King Louis
Philippe, who died this very year from a carriage accident.

* Chapelle ardente. The term has reference to the illumination
surrounding the sarcophagus.

» The "Citizen King,'r Louis Philippe (1773-1850), brought in
after the Revolution of 1830, overthrown by that of 1848.

209

the park — guards about here and there. At the
entrance to the court-yard of the chateau a lancer
mounted on each side, a sign, always, of the presence
of the King. Went thro' suite of rooms — found the
company assembled in an interior saloon. Queen,
and Madame Elizabeth, 1 with various ladies, among
whom were Madame Soult and the Countess of
Monjoie (dame d'honneur) seated at a round table
with needle-work, etc., before them. Company
around the room — King, dressed in black, with
shoes and stockings, conversing with Mr. Bulwer,2
British Sec[retar]y of Legation. I was presented to
the Queen, who excused herself from speaking
English and conversed with me in French. She is
thin and rather pale, an amiable countenance, blue
eyes, light, or grey hair. Madame Elizabeth, sister
to the King, a very frank, cordial manner — a
countenance indicative of good nature and good
sense. I had a very cordial reception from the
King, who in conversation shewed himself well
informed of all the passing events in America.
The affairs of Mexico and Texas, etc. Had some
conversation with Countess of Montjoie — Mr.
Chabannes, who reminded me of our having met
in 1829 at the house of the Duke de Caze — with

Bulwer, with Gen[era]l , aide-de-camp to the

King, etc.

I am told the King is extremely annoyed in taking
his rides about the park, to find himself continually
in sight of sentinels placed here and there for his
security, since the repeated attacks upon him. He
says it is almost as bad as the case of Napoleon at

1 Irving in a letter correctly calls her Adelaide.

2 Sir Henry Lytton Earle Bulwer (1801-1872), author and di-
plomatist, and elder brother of Lord Lytton, the novelist.

210

Longwood, who could never find himself out of sight
of a sentinel.

June 5th. — Sunday. Dined with Col. Thorn,1 to
witness the contract of marriage of his daughter with
the Baron [Pierre]. Thorn lives in the Hotel
Monaco, Rue de Varennes, Faub[our]g St. Germain,
a noble mansion entre cour et jardin — the latter of
great extent, looks like a morsel of an English park.
Fine lawn with noble trees (horse-chestnuts and
others) on each side — broad terrace back of the
hotel. At dinner we had the Prince and Princess de
Bethune, the Duchess de Montmorency, etc.

The Prince is head of the house of Sully, a some-
what dandyish old gentleman, with his scanty white
hair brought from behind so as to partially cover the
top of his head, and white whiskers that reach to the
corners of his mouth — good-humoured, but light
and somewhat faddy. The Princess is a woman of
good sense, knowledge of the world and excellent
manners. Sat at dinner between Mrs. Thorn and
Mrs. Chauncy, her daughter-in-law. The latter,
German by birth, speaks English very well. The con-
versation was full of intelligence and talent.

After dinner the company began to arrive, and in
the course of the evening the assemblage became
quite numerous, composed of the old noblesse — the
high aristocracy of the Faubourg St. Germain.
Gen[era]l Cass came in the evening. The company
all signed as witnesses, the contract of marriage. The
bride-elect, a very pretty, beaming girl with a frank,
amiable expression of countenance. Understanding
from Gen[era]l Cass that the Marquis Brignole,

1 Colonel Herman Thorn, an American of great wealth, whose
regal entertainments brought to his house all the old nobility of
Paris.

211

Sardinian Ambassador, was present, I told Gen[era]l
Cass that I had an idea I had seen him play the part
of Orasmin1 in a translation of Voltaire's " Zaire," at
the country palace of his mother at Sestre de Ponente2
near Genoa, in 1804, when he was about nineteen or
twenty years of age. Gen[era]l Cass offered to intro-
duce me to him, but I first wished to ascertain
whether it was the same. We went into an adjoining
saloon to look for him. Gen[era]l Cass told me to
point out the gentlemen present whom I should sup-
pose to be he. I examined the countenances and
pointed to a tall, grey-headed person, who was
seated conversing with a Neapolitan Ambassador.
I was not mistaken. It was indeed the once young
and elegant Brignole, who thirty-seven years before
I had seen playing the hero of the drama with a grace
and talent that captivated all the ladies present; and
who I believe made a serious impression on the
beautiful representative of Zaire. Gen[era]l Cass
introduced me to him and I recalled the circum-
stances just mentioned. He remembered having
played the part and set me right as to the name of the
representative of Zaire, which I had supposed to be
Madame Navara, but which he told me was Riva-
rolla. He paid me some civil compliments upon my
"Life of Columbus," a subject so interesting to the
people of Genoa.

June 6th. — Monday. At twelve o'clock drove
out with Sarah to Mrs. Welles' at Suresnes. Took
St. Cloud in our way and passed some time in the
park. Mrs. Welles in a maison de campagne, beauti-
fully situated on the banks of the Seine, with fine

1 This character of the famous play is an officer of the Sultan of
Jerusalem.

1 Irving meant "Sestri Ponente."

212

shrubbery, walks, garden, etc. — forty acres — re-
turned through Bois de Boulogne.

Tuesday, 7th. — At twelve o'clock attended at the
Church of St. Roque to witness the marriage cere-
mony of Miss Thorn to the Baron Pierre. After the
ceremony the numerous company adjourned to
Thorn's hotel where a breakfast was served at two
o'clock to about thirty-six persons. The repast was
in a noble saloon in one wing of the chateau looking
out upon a noble avenue of trees under which a grand
military band performed various pieces of music. I
was seated next Madame de Varenne, a very intelli-
gent old lady, with fine black eyes and hair almost
entirely white. I found out afterwards that she was
the person who planned the escape of LaValette.

The loveliest woman present was the Princess
Demidoff, daughter of Jerome Bonaparte. She had
somewhat of the Bonaparte countenance and one of
the most delicious, fascinating smiles I have ever
seen. I was presented to her after breakfast just as
she and her husband were on the point of getting out
their carriage to proceed on a journey.

In the course of the morning I was introduced to
the Marquis de la Grange,1 a member of the Chamber,
and an exceedingly intelligent man. He told me he

was occupied writing the history of his ancestor

de la Force, connected with the history of Spam.

Thought Charles V presented a fine subject for
the historic pen; thought Robertson's history, though
a beautiful composition, was not satisfactory.2

Dined with Mr. Bulwer, in a curious little mansion

1 This was Addlaide-fidouard Le Lievre, Marquis de Fourelles
et de la Grange (1796-1876), French statesman and author.

1 William Robertson (1721-1793), the distinguished Scottish
historian.

213

made up of irregular saloons and pavilions, with
garden behind it, which formerly belonged to the
Princess Pauline and was a kind of maison de plai-
sance. At dinner we had Gen[era]l Cass, Col. Charles

Fox, a Monsr. , who is engaged in the history of

the Moriscoes, and Mr. Walewsky, a Pole, said to be
a son of Napoleon.1 He has the Bonaparte stamp in
his countenance — a handsome man about thirty-
five — speaks English very well — very intelligent
and agreeable — conversation turned upon travellers
in the East. Lamartine2 was shewn up as being ex-
cessively poetical in his mode of viewing and relating
things — false and exaggerated as to landscape,
people, facts, etc. Cass spoke of his interview with
Lady Hester Stanhope and of her indignation against
Lamartine, who, she declared, "lied abominably."
She mentioned various circumstances concerning her-
self which he had stated were totally false. Lady
Hester Stanhope3 was much considered and honoured
in the country as long as she could spend money
freely but when her means became straitened as they
latterly did, the prestige vanished, and she fell into
neglect.

Sir William Gell in one of his first works gives a

fanciful and false account of the Island of , and

the ruins of the Palace of . When the English

took possession of the island all was found to be
false. He was asked how he came to fabricate such

1 Alexandra Floria Joseph Colonna, Comte Walewski (1810-
1868), a soldier, journalist, and statesman.

* Alphonse de Lamartine (1790-1869), the greatest of French ele-
giac poets, and prominent as a man of letters and a member of the
provisional Government of 1848.

8 Lady Hester Lucy Stanhope (1776-1839), eldest daughter of
the third Earl of Stanhope, the brilliant confidante of her uncle,
William Pitt, best known after 1810 for her eccentric career in the
Levant as a sort of princess among the tribes of Mount Lebanon.

214

fables — "Why," said he, "I never dreamt that we
were to gain possession of the Island." He supposed
there would be no travellers after him to detect his
misrepresentations. His subsequent writings about
well-known countries are of quite a different charac-
ter as to veracity.

Speaking of Mad. La Norman,1 the famous fortune-
teller, Bulwer said he had once been to see her —
found her ingenious — prone to put questions and
draw hints and conclusions from the replies.

Walewsky told of his having some years since
called upon her, knowing that a beautiful woman
with whom he had some liaison was about to call on
her. Madam La Norman began to talk to him in the
usual way but he repeatedly interrupted her, telling
her he had no occasion for her science, but had come
to aid it. He described the lady who was coming to
consult her. He related many striking facts con-
cerning her. He stated what might be said to her
as to the future — "I do not advise you to tell all
these things," said he, "I counsel nothing; you may
do as you please, but here are six Louis for you."
So saying he took his leave. The lady's fortune
past and future was told in a manner to astonish her,
and greatly to the advantage of Mr. Walewsky.

Charles Fox told us of a singular train of coinci-
dences which had happened to his father, Lord
Holland. When a boy he was nearly drowned in the
Thames, and brought to shore perfectly insensible.
On another occasion he met with another accident of
great danger and another time in Lisbon, he 2

1 Her correct name is Marie- Anne Lenormand (1772-1843).
She came early to Paris and was consulted by the Empress Jose-
phine and other notabilities.

* Irving leaves a blank half-page for the anecdote which still re-
mains unrecorded.

215

In the evening I accompanied Bulwer to the

Duchess of ' s,1 niece of Talleyrand. Met there

with Lady Rencliff , whom I had not seen for sixteen
years. She was looking very well — grown plump.
Introduced to a very handsome girl, Mademoiselle
de Noailles, granddaughter of Lafayette. Met the
Marquise de Brignole, and was introduced to her
sister-in-law, Madame .

Old Lady Oldborough present — nearly ninety
years of age, but fashionably dressed, animated and
full of conversation.

June [18th]. — Monday. Dined at Lord Cowley 's*
(British Ambassador) — present L[or]d and Lady
Cowley, Miss Wellesley, Lord and Lady Throg-
morton, — Marquis and Marchioness Durazzo, Lady
Rencliffe, Mr. Bulwer, Mr. McTavish, etc.

Ev[enin]g to Thorn's — Grand Fete — gardens il-
luminated. Introduced to Eugene Sue — stout man
about thirty-six — strong, black beard — spoke with
great approbation of Cooper's writings.

June [14]- — Tuesday. Dined with Col. and
Lady Mary Fox — present, Mr. Dumas,3 Bulwer,
etc.

June [15]. — Wednesday. Dined with Mr. and
Mrs. Greene — present, Mr. and Mrs. Storrow, Mr.
and Mrs. Ledyard, Gen[era]l Cass, Dr. Randolph
of Philadelphia], Mr. Ray, the Miss Greens.

June [16th]. — Thursday. Went out to Versailles
in railroad cars with Mr. and Mrs. Storrow and the

1 Doroth^e de Courland, Duchease de Dino (1792-1862), who
married Talleyrand's nephew, Count Alexandra de Pe"rigord. She
was a beauty and a favourite of the famous diplomat.

2 Henry Wellesley, Baron Cowley (1773-1847), brother of the
Duke of Wellington. He had a long and distinguished career as a
diplomat. One of his daughters married Bulwer-Lytton.

1 Doubtless the great romancer, Alexandra Dumas (1803-1870).

216

child, and Mr. Ames. Took up quarters in the
Reservoir Hotel.

Ev[enin]g drove to Viroflay to Bon Repos — dined
with Mr. and Mrs. Ellis — met there Lady Ryal,
Gen[era]l Cass, Ledyard, a Mr. Wilkinson, etc.
After dinner walked in wood of Meudon. Visit
Mr. Wilkinson's country retreat — his wife a pretty
French woman — two daughters are very hand-
some.

June 27th. — Monday. Accompanied Mrs. and
the Misses Wheaton to soiree of Duchess de Gaze.

June 29th. — Wednesday. Dined with Baron
Rothschild at his villa at Bo[u]logne — present, Duke
de Gaze, Marquis de Salvandy, Madame de Girardan,
formerly Delphine Gay,1 Mr. Bulwer, etc.

Evening company — Duke and Duchess of Gram-
mont, M. de Kenevitz, Minister of Saxony, his wife
and daughter, Madam Bernsdorff, wife of Prussian
charg^ d'affaires, etc., etc.

July llth. — Leave Paris at eleven o'clock in car-
riage and four horses for Bordeaux accompanied
by Alex. Hamilton, Jr., Carson Brevoort and Hector
Ames — Benjamin Gowien, domestic 2 — fine weather.

Arrive at Orleans at half-past nine o'clock — put
up at La Boule d'Or, a very neat, clean hotel.

July 12th. — Leave Orleans at eight o'clock — stop
about one o'clock at Blois and visit the old castle
where the Duke de Guise was assassinated.3

1 firnilc Delphine de Gay (1804-1855), a voluminous writer,
married in 1831 to M. de Girardine, the journalist.

1 Irving in a letter of July 20, 1842, writes: "I have picked up
a most valuable servant at Paris, a mulatto named Benjamin
Gowien, native of South Carolina.

1 This was Henri I de Lorraine (1550-1588), one of the authors
of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew and head of the Roman Catho-
lic League. He was assassinated at Blois, along with his brother,
the Cardinal of Lorraine, by order of King Henry III.

217

Fine, cool day, having had showers last night —
arrive a little after seven o'clock at Tours. Put up
at the H6tel de Londres — good.

July 18th. — Rise early — visit Cathedral, etc. —
^ leave Tours at eight o'clock — drive through Mont-

bazon — ruins of castle — fertile country round it -
gardens — small river.

Pass thro' fertile, green country — ridges of low
hills with chateaux and vineyards. Pass thro'
Chatellerault — beset by knife merchants. Arrive
at Poitiers about five. Picturesque approach to the
town — limestone crags on one hand, small river on
the other — put up at H6tel de France — good —
take bath — walk in public promenade built partly
on walls of old town. Enchanting view below the
walls — small, rich valley with the Vienne gliding
thro' it.

Visit Cathedral — very spacious, wide — side
aisles nearly as wide as the nave.

14th. — Walked before breakfast with Mr. Bre-

voort — visit Cathedral — Church of St. , —

Saxon architecture — columns with very high reliefs.
Leave Poitiers at eight o'clock.

Weather this day very hot — dusty — pass thro'
country of vineyards — straight road — monotonous.
See at a distance the chateau of the Rochefoucaulds.

Arrive about seven o'clock at Angouleme — have
to wind up hill through the town — put up at the
H6tel de la Port — walk out about boulevards along
the crest of the hill — looking over rich extent of

country with the , gleaming through part of it.

We are in the country of truffles and pates, etc.

15th. — Leave Angouleme at seven o'clock —
beautiful walks made around the place on the
boulevards, etc.

218

A hot, dusty day's drive — about three posts be-
fore reaching Bordeaux hear of the death of the
Duke of Orleans.

Pass over magnificent hanging bridge over the
Dronne — arrive at Bordeaux about six o'clock —
put up at H6tel de Paris.

July 16th. — Keep at home all day on account of
the heat — drive out in the evening to Floirac to visit
the Guestiers — Mr. Guestier absent. Find Mrs. G.
at home with her son-in-law, Wash : Phelan, who mar-
ried her daughter Minna, and Mr. , who mar-
ried her niece, Miss Lorton — numerous family —
four born since I was here. Accompan[ie]d in this
drive by Hamilton and Brevoort — fine drive home
by moonlight.

Sunday, 17th. — Drove about twelve o'clock to
Lescare — country seat of Mr. Nath. Johnson.
Found him at home and Mrs. N. Johnson — Mr. J.
just recovering from severe illness. After a while old
Mrs. Johnson returned from church accompan[ie]d
by her daughter Georgiana and her husband, Mr.
Deluz — passed an hour there very agreeably. In
afternoon Hamilton, Brevoort, and myself drove
out to Floirac, where we dined en famille with the
Guestiers. Mr. Guestier had returned and greeted
me cordially on my arrival. About twenty persons
sat down to table. Mrs. Phelan was there and
Doctor . Passed a very pleasant evening.

18th. — Paid morning visits to Mrs. Deluz, Mrs.
Nath. Barton, Mrs. Phelan, and Mr. Grigsby of
Virginia, American Consul.1 Dined at Lescare. At
table old Mrs. Johnson, Mr. and Mrs. N. Johnson,
Mr. and Mrs. Deluz, Mr. and Mrs. N. Barton, and

1 Probably John Blair Grigsby (1800-1881), afterward a well-
known authority on Virginia history.

219

Mr. Scott, British Consul. Returned in ev[enin]g in
carriage with Mr. and Mrs. Deluz.

19th. — Leave Bordeaux at four o'clock p. M. in
diligence for Bayonne — hot, dusty journey in the
afternoon — travel all night.

20th. — Day cooler — there have been showers to
lay the dust — arrive at Bayonne at four o'clock —
at diligence office find Mr. Lucaze, who conducts us
to Hotel St. fitienne — take bath — stroll about the
town.

220

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY

Irving, Washington

2081 The journals of Washington
A2 Irving
1919
v.3

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