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LETTERS
SPAIN.
DON LEUCADIO DOBLADO.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR HENRY COLBURN AND CO.
MDCCCXXII.
PREFACE.
UUJ -' > ;rf|
SOME of the following Letters have been
printed in the New Monthly Magazine.
The Author would, indeed, be inclined to
commit the whole collection to the candour of
his readers without a prefatory address, were
it not that the plan of his Work absolutely re-
quires some explanation.
The slight mixture of fiction which these
Letters contain might raise a doubt whether
the sketches of Spanish manners, customs, and
opinions, by means of which the Author has
endeavoured to pourtray the moral state of his
2C
vi PREFACE.
country at a period immediately preceding,
and in part coincident with the French inva-
sion, may not be exaggerated by fancy, and
coloured with a view to mere effect.
It is chiefly on this account that the Author
deems it necessary to assure the Public of the
reality of every circumstance mentioned in his
book, except the name of Leucadio Doblado.
These Letters are in fact the faithful memoirs
of a real Spanish clergyman, as far as his
character and the events of his life can illus-
trate the state of the country which gave him
birth.
Doblado s Letters are dated from Spain, and,
to preserve consistency, the Author is supposed
to have returned thither after a residence of
some years in England. This is another ficti-
tious circumstance. Since the moment when
the person disguised under the above name left
PREFACE. Vll
that beloved country, whose religious intolerance
has embittered his life that country which
boasting, at this moment, of a fret constitution,
still continues to deprive her children of the
right to worship God according to their own
conscience he has not for a day quitted Eng-
land, the land of his ancestors, and now the
country of his choice and adoption.
It is not, however, from pique or resentment
that the Author has dwelt so long and so
warmly upon the painful and disgusting pic-
ture of Spanish bigotry. Spain, " with all her
faults," is still and shall ever be the object of
his love. But since no man, within the limits
of her territory, can venture to lay open the
canker which, fostered by religion, feeds on
the root of her political improvements, be it
allowed a self-banished Spaniard to describe the
sources of such a strange anomaly in the New
Constitution of Spain, and thus to explain to
PREFACE.
such as may not be unacquainted with his
name as a Spanish writer, the true cause of an
absence which might otherwise be construed
into a dereliction of duty, and a desertion of
that post which both nature and affection
marked so decidedly for the exertion . of his
humble talents.
Chelsea, June 1822.
TABLE
OF
LETTER I.
Mistakes of Travellers. Townsend's Accuracy. View of
Cadiz from the Sea. Religion blended with Public
and Domestic Life in Spain. Customs relating to the
Host or Eucharist. Manners and Society at Cadiz.
Passage by Sea to Port Saint Mary's. St. Lucar. Pas-
sage up the Guadalquivir to Seville. Construction and
internal Economy of the Houses in that Town. Knock-
ing, and greeting at the Door. Devotion of the People of
Seville to the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin
Mary - p. 1 25
LETTER II.
Difficulty of describing National Characters. Nobles and
Plebeians, in Spain. Purity of Blood. Tizon de Espana.
Grandees. Hidalgos in Low Life. Execution of an
Hidalgo, Spanish Pride, visible among the Lower Classes.
Usual Employment of Day at Seville. Spanish Polite-
ness. Absence of Jealousy in Modern Times. Dinner.
Siesta. Public Walks. Dress of the Spanish Ladies.
Various Uses of the Fan. Character of the Spanish
Females ----- - p. 26 58
X TABLE OF CONTENTS.
LETTER III.
Eagerness of Free-thinking Spaniards to become acquainted,
and their quickness in knowing one another. Inclosure of
a detached Paper, intituled A few Facts connected -with the
Formation of the Intellectual and Moral Character of a
Spanish Clergyman p. 59 66
Importance of examining the Tendency of Catholicism.
Account of two highly devout Roman Catholics.
Auricular Confession. Education of a Spanish Boy.
Evils arising from the Celibacy of the Clergy. Educa-
tion under the Jesuits. Congregation of Saint Philip
Neri. Exercises of Saint Ignatius. Aristotelic Philo-
sophy taught by the Dominicans. Feyjoo's Works.
Spanish Universities and Colleges, called Mayores. In-
direct Influence of the Inquisition on the State of
Knowledge in Spain. Mental Struggles of a young Spa-
niard on points connected with the established System
of Faith. Impressions produced by the Ceremony of
Catholic Ordination. Unity and Consistency of the Ca-
tholic System. Train of Thought and Feeling leading to
the final Rejection of Catholicism - - p. 66 134
LETTER IV.
On Bull-fights, and other National Customs connected witH*~
those Amusements. - p. 135 159
LETTER V.
_
A Journey to Osuna and Olvera. A Spanish Country-Inn.
The Play El Diablo Predicador. Souls in Purgatory
begged for : Lottery of Purgatory. Character of Two
Nuns at Osuna. A Country Vicar. Customs at Olvera.
Tapadas, or veiled Females. A Dance. The Riberas'
Lamp - p. 160 19x1
TABLE OF CONTENTS. XI
LETTER VI.
The Yellow Fever at Seville, in 1800. Spiritual Methods of
stopping its progress. Alcala de Guadaira escapes the
infection. Two Spanish Missionaries. The Virgin of the
Eagle. The Dunn Rosary. State of Seville after the
disappearance of the Disorder - p. 193 214
LETTER VII.
Monks and Friars. Instances of gross misconduct among
them. Their Influence. Brother Sebastian and Charles
III. The Carthusians. Hermits near Cordova
p. 215237
LETTER VIII.
Nuns. Motives for taking the Veil. Circumstances attend-
ing that Ceremony. Account of a young Lady compelled
by her Mother to take the Monastic Vows. Escrupulos,
or Religious Anxiety. Spiritual Flirtation. Nun Doc-
tors p. 238 258
LETTER IX.
Memorandums of some Andalusian Customs and Festivals.
Saint Sebastian's Day : Carnival, p. 260. Ash- Wednes-
day, p. 270. Mid-lent, p. 274. Passion, or Holy Week,
p. 277. Passion Wednesday, p. 283. Thursday in the
Passion Week, p. 285. Good Friday, p. 292. Saturday
before Easter, p. 298. May Cross, p. 301. Corpus
Christi, p. 303. Saint John's Eve, p. 309. Saint Bartho-
lomew, p. 312. Detached Prejudices and Practices,
p. 315. Funerals of Infants and Maids, p. 318. Spa-
nish Christian Names, p. 322. Christmas, p. 324.
XII TABLE OF CONTENTS.
LETTER X.
A Sketch of the Court of Madrid, in the Reign of Charles
the Fourth, and the Intrigues connected with the Influence
of the Prince of the Peace - p. 328360
LETTER XL
Private Life at Madrid. Pretendientes. Literary Cha-
racters - p. 361387
LETTER XII.
Events connected with the Beginning of the French Invasion.
The Escunal at the Time of the Arrest of the Prince of
Asturias. Revolution at Aranjuez and Madrid. Mas-
sacre of the 2d of May, 1808 - p. 388420
LETTER XIII.
State of Spain at the time of the general Rising against the
French, as observed in a Journey from Madrid to Seville,
through the Province of Estremadura - p. 421
APPENDIX. An Account of the Suppression of the Je-
suits in Spain - - p. 445
NOTES - - -.. .. - - - p. 461
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
LETTER I.
Seville, May 1798.
I AM inclined to think with you, that a
Spaniard, who, like myself, has resided many
years in England, is, perhaps, the fittest per-
son to write an account of life, manners, and
opinions as they exist in this country, and to
shew them in the light which is most likely to
interest an Englishman. The most acute and
diligent travellers are subject to constant mis-
takes; and perhaps the more so, for what is
generally thought a circumstance in their fa-
vour a moderate knowledge of foreign lan-
guages. A traveller who uses only his eyes, will
confine himself to the description of external
objects; and though his narrative may be de-
ficient in many topics of interest, it will cer-
B
2 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
tainly be exempt from great and ludicrous
blunders. The difficulty, which a person, with
a smattering of the language of the country he
is visiting, experiences every moment in the
endeavour to communicate his own, and catch
other men's thoughts, often urges him into a
sort of mental rashness, which leads him to
settle many a doubtful point for himself, and
to forget the unlimited power, I should have
said tyranny, of usage, in whatever relates to
language.
I still recollect the unlucky hit I made on
my arrival in London, when, anxious beyond
measure to catch every idiomatic expression,
I and reading the huge inscription of the Cannon
Brewery at Knightsbridge, as the building had
some resemblance to the great cannon-foundery
in this town, I settled it in my mind that the
; genuine English idiom, for what I now should
call casting, was no other than brewing cannon.
This, however, was a mere verbal mistake.
Not so that which I made when the word
nursery stared me in the face every five minutes,
as in a fine afternoon I approached your great
metropolis, on the western road. Luxury and
wealth, said I to myself, in a strain approach-
ing to philosophic indignation, have at last
blunted the best feelings of nature among the
English. Surely, if I am to judge from this
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 3
endless string of nurseries, the English ladies
have gone a step beyond the unnatural prac-
tice of devolving their first maternal duties
upon domestic hirelings. Here, it seems, the
poor helpless infants are sent to be kept and
suckled in crowds, in a decent kind of Found-
ling- Hospitals. You may easily guess that I
knew but one signification of the words nursing
and nursery. Fortunately I was not collecting
materials for a book of travels during a sum-
mer excursion, otherwise I should now be en-
joying all the honour of the originality of my
remark's on the customs and manners of Old
England.
From similar mistakes I think myself safe
enough in speaking of my native country ;
but I wish I could feel equal confidence as to
the execution of the sketches you desire to
obtain from me. I know you too well to
doubt that my letters will, by some chance
or other, find their way to some of the London
Magazines, before they have been long in your
hands. And only think, I intreat you, how I
shall fret and fidget under the apprehension
that some of your pert newspaper writers may
fiU up a whole column in some of their Suns or
Stars, which, in spite of intervening seas and
mountains, shall dart its baneful influence, and
blast the character of infallibility, as an English
B 2
4 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
scholar, which I have acquired since my return
to Spain. I have so strongly rivetted the ad-
miration of the Irish merchants in this place,
that, in spite of their objection to my not call-
ing tea ta, they submit to my decision every in-
tricate question about your provoking shall and
will: and surely it would be no small disparage-
ment, in this land of proud Dons, to be posted
up in a London paper as a murderer of the
Kings English. How fortunate was our famous
Spanish traveller, my relative, Espriella* (for
you know that there exists a family connexion
between us by my mother's side) to find one of
the best writers in England, willing to translate
his letters ! But since you will not allow me
to write in my native language, and since, to
say the truth, I feel a pleasure in using that
which reminds me of the dear land which has
been my second home the land where I drew
my first breath of liberty the land which
taught me how to retrieve, though imperfectly
and with pain, the time which, under the influ-
ence of ignorance and superstition, I had lost
in early youth I will not delay a task which,
should circumstances allow me to complete it,
I intend as a token of friendship to you, and of
gratitude and love to your country.
* See Espriella's "Letters from England."
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Few travellers are equal to your countryman
Mr. Townsend in the truth and liveliness of his
descriptions, as well as in the mass of useful
information and depth of remark, with which
he has presented the public *. It would be
impossible for any but a native Spaniard to add
to the collection of traits descriptive of the
national character, which animates his narra-
tive ; and I must confess, that he has rather
confined me in the selection of my topics. He
has, indeed, fallen into such mistakes and in-
accuracies, as nothing short of perfect fami-
liarity with a country can prevent. But I may
safely recommend him to you as a guide for a
fuller acquaintance with the places whose in-
habitants I intend to make the chief subject of
my letters. But that I may not lay upon you
the necessity of a constant reference, I shall
begin by providing your fancy with a "local
habitation" for the people whose habits and
modes of thinking I will forthwith attempt to
pourtray.
The view of Cadiz from the sea, as, in a
fine open day, you approach its magnificent
harbour, is one of the most attractive beauty.
The strong deep light of a southern sky, re-
flecting from the lofty buildings of white free
* He visited Spain in the years 1786 and 1787-
6 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
stone, which face the bay, rivet the eye of the
navigator from the very verge of the horizon.
The sea actually washes the ramparts, except
where, on the opposite side of the town, it is
divided by a narrow neck of land, which joins
Cadiz to the neighbouring continent. When,
therefore, you begin to discover the upper part
of the buildings, and the white pinnacles of
glazed earthenware, resembling china, that or-
nament the parapets with which their flat roofs
are crowned, the airy structure, melting at
times into the distant glare of the waves, is
more like a pleasing delusion a kind of Fata
Morgana than the lofty, uniform massive
buildings which, rising gradually before the ves-
sel, bring you back, however unwilling, to the
dull realities of life. After landing on a crowd-
ed quay, you are led the whole depth of the
ramparts along a dark vaulted passage, at the
farthest end of which new-comers must submit
to the scrutiny of the inferior custom-house
officers. Eighteen-pence slipped into their
hands with the keys of your trunks, will spare
you the vexation of seeing your clothes and
linen scattered about in the utmost disorder.
I forgot to tell you, that scarcely does a boat
with passengers approach the landing-stairs of
the quay, when three or four Gallegos, natives
of the province of Galicia, who are the only
LtTTEKS FROM SPAIN*. 7
porters in this town, will take a fearful leap into
the boat, and begin a scuffle, which ends by
the stronger seizing upon the luggage. The suc-
cessful champion becomes your guide through
the town to the place where you wish to take
up your abode. As only two gates are used as
a thoroughfare the sea -gate, Puerta de la Mar,
and the land-gate, Puerta de Tierra those
who come by water are obliged tq cross the
great Market a place not unlike Covent Gar-
den, where the country people expose all sorts
of vegetables and fruits for sale. Fish is also
sold at this place, where you see it laid out
upon the pavement in the same state as it was
taken out of the net. The noise and din of
this market are absolutely intolerable. All
classes of Spaniards, not excluding the ladies,
are rather loud and boisterous in their speech.
But here is a contention between three or four
hundred peasants, who shall make his harsh
and guttural voice be uppermost, to inform the
passengers of the price and quality of his
goods. In a word, the noise is such as will
astound any one, who has not lived for some
years near Cornhill or Temple-bar.
Religion, or, if you please, superstition, is
so intimately blended with the whole system
of public and domestic life in Spain, that I fear
1 shall tire you with the perpetual recurrence
8 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
of that subject. I am already compelled, by
an involuntary train of ideas, to enter upon
that endless topic. If, however, you wish to
become thoroughly acquainted with the na-
tional character of my country, you must learn
the character of the national religion. The in-
fluence of religion in Spain is boundless. It
divides the whole population into two compre-
hensive classes, bigots and dissemblers. Do
not, however, mistake me. I am very far from
wishing to libel my countrymen. If I use
these invidious words, it is not that I believe
every Spaniard either a downright bigot or a
hypocrite : yet I cannot shut my eyes to the
melancholy fact, that the system under which
we live must unavoidably give, even to the best
among us, a taint of one of those vices. Where
the law threatens every dissenter from such
an encroaching system of divinity as that of
the Church of Rome, with death and infamy
where every individual is not only invited, but
enjoined, at the peril of both body and soul, to
assist in enforcing that law, must not an undue
and tyrannical influence accrue to the believing
party ? Are not such as disbelieve in secret,
condemned to a life of degrading deference, or
of heart-burning silence ? Silence, did I say ?
No ; every day, every hour, renews the neces-
sity of explicitly declaring yourself what you
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 9
are not. The most contemptible individual
may, at pleasure, force out a lie, from an ho-
nestly proud bosom.
I must not, however, keep you any longer
in suspense as to the origin of this flight this
unprepared digression from the plain narrative
I had begun. You know me well enough to
believe that, after a long residence in England,
my landing at Cadiz, instead of cheering my
heart at the sight of my native country, would
naturally produce a mixed sensation, in which
pain and gloominess must have had the ascen-
dant. I had enjoyed the blessings of liberty
for several years ; and now, alas ! I perceived
that I had been irresistibly drawn back by the
holiest ties of affection, to stretch out my hands
to the manacles, and bow my neck to that
yoke, which had formerly galled my very soul.
The convent of San Juan de Dios - -(laugh, my
dear friend, if you will : you may do so, who
have never lived within range of any of these
European jungles, where lurks every thing
that is hideous and venomous*) well, then,
* 1 wish my friend Don Leucadio had qualified this passage,
for the sake of a few worthy individuals, who, to my know-
ledge, were to be found among the regular clergy of Spain.
As to the convent, which brought on this paroxysm of my
friend's constitutional malady the monachophobia, it is but
justice to say, that the order of San Juan de Dios is, perhaps,
10 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
San Juan de Dios is the first remarkable ob-
ject that meets the eye upon entering Cadiz
by the sea gate. A single glance at the con-
vent had awakened the strongest and most
rooted aversions of my heart, when, just as I
was walking into the nearest street to avoid
the crowd, the well-remembered sound of a
hand-bell made me instantly aware that, unless
pretending not to hear it, I could retrace my
steps, and turn another corner, I should be
obliged to kneel in the mud till a priest, who
was carrying the consecrated wafer to a dying
person, had moved slowly in his sedan chair
from the farthest end of the street to the place
where I began to hear the bell.
The rule, on these occasions, is expressed in
a proverbial saying al Rey, en viendolo; a
Dios, en oyendolo which, after supplying its
elliptical form, means that external homage is
the only one in which real usefulness predominates. Every
convent of that order is an hospital, where the friars give their
attendance to the sick poor, either as physicians or helpers.
The last do all the service which in England is left to nurses.
The only mischief of this institution lies in binding, with per-
petual vows, those whom charity calls, in their youth, to this
labour of love. Were this part of the monastic rule repealed or
modified, I will take upon myself to assert, that Don Leuca-
dio himself would join with me in wishing well to those good
friars.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 11
due to the king upon seeing him : and to God
i. e. the host, preceded by its never-failing
appendage, the bell the very moment you
hear him. I must add, as a previous expla-
nation of what is to follow, that God and the
king are so coupled in the language of this
country, that the same title of Majesty is ap-
plied to both. You hear, from the pulpit, the
duties that men owe to both Majesties ; and a
foreigner is often surprised at the hopes ex-
pressed by the Spaniards, that his Majesty will
be pleased to grant them life and health for some
years more. I must add a very ludicrous cir-
cumstance arising from this absurd form of
speech. When the priest, attended by the
clerk, and surrounded by eight or ten people,
bearing lighted flambeaus, has broken into the
chamber of the dying person, and gone through
a form of prayer, half Latin, half Spanish, which
lasts for about twenty minutes, one of the
wafers is taken out of a little gold casket, and
put into the mouth of the patient as he lies in
bed. To swallow the wafer without the loss
of any particle which, according to the
Council of Trent, (and I fully agree with the
fathers) contains the same Divine person as the
whole is an operation of some difficulty.
To obviate, therefore, the impropriety of lodg-
ing a sacred atom, as it might easily happen, in
12 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
a bad tooth, the clerk comes forth with a glass
of water, and in a firm and loud voice asks the
sick person, " Is his Majesty gone down?"* The
answer enables the learned clerk to decide
whether the passage is to be expedited by
means of his cooling draught.
But I must return to my Gallego, and my-
self. No sooner had I called him back, as if
I had suddenly changed my mind as to the di-
rection in which we were to go, than, with a
most determined tone, he said, " Dios Su
Magestad." Pretending not to hear, I turned
sharply round, and was now making my re-
treat but it would not do. Fired with holy
zeal, he raised his harsh voice, and in the bar-
barous accent of his province, repeated three
or four times, " Dios Su Magestad" adding,
with an oath, " This man is a heretic !" There
was no resisting that dreadful word : it pinned
me to the ground. I took out my pocket-
handkerchief, and laying it on the least dirty
part of the pavement, knelt upon it not in-
deed to pray; but while, as another act of
conformity to the custom of the country, I was
beating my breast with my clenched right
* The Spanish words are Ha pasado su Magestad? My
friend has translated, not word for word, but idiom for idiom.
Editor.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 13
hand, as gently as it could be done without
offence to curse the hour when I had submit-
ted thus to degrade myself, and tremble at the
mere suspicion of a being little removed from
the four-footed animals, whom it was his occu-
pation to relieve of their burdens.
In the more populous towns of Spain, these
unpleasant meetings are frequent. Nor are
you free from being disturbed by the holy bell
in the most retired part of your house. Its
sound operates like magic upon the Spaniards.
In the midst of a gay, noisy party, the word -
" Su Magestad" will bring every one upon
his knees until the tinkling dies in the distance.
Are you at dinner ? you must leave the table.
In bed ? you must, at least, sit up. But the
most preposterous effect of this custom is to be
seen at the theatres. On the approach of the
host to any military guard, the drum beats,
the men are drawn out, and as soon as the
priest can be seen, they bend the right knee,
and invert the firelocks, placing the point of
the bayonet on the ground. As an officer's
guard is always stationed at the door of a Spa-
nish theatre, I have often laughed in my sleeve
at the effect of the chamade both upon the actors
and the company. " Dios, Dios!" resounds
from all parts of the house, and every one falls,
that moment, upon his knees. The actors'
14 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ranting, or the rattling of the castanets in the
fandango, is hushed for a few minutes, till the
sound of the bell growing fainter and fainter,
the amusement is resumed, and the devout per-
formers are once more upon their legs, anxious
to make amends for the interruption. So
powerful is the effect of early habit, that I had
been for some weeks in London before I could
hear the postman's bell in the evening, without
feeling instinctively inclined to perform a due
genuflection.
Cadiz, though fast declining from the wealth
and splendour to which she had reached during
her exclusive privilege to trade with the Colo-
nies of South America, is still one of the few
towns of Spain, which, for refinement, can be
compared with some of the second rate in Eng-
land. The people are hospitable and cheerful.
The women, without being at all beautiful, are
really fascinating. Some of the Tertulias, or
evening parties, which a simple introduction to
the lady of the house entitles any one to attend
daily, are very lively and agreeable. No stiff-
ness of etiquette prevails : you may drop in
when you like, and leave the room when it
suits you. The young ladies, however, will
soon either find out, or imagine, the house and
company to which you give the preference ;
and a week's acquaintance will lay you open
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 15
to a great deal of good-natured bantering upon
the cause of your short calls. Singing to the
guitar, or the piano, is a very common resource
at these meetings. But the musical acquire-
ments of the Spanish ladies cannot bear the
most distant comparison with those of the
female amateurs in London. In singing, how-
ever, they possess one great advantage that
of opening the mouth which your English
Misses seem to consider as a great breach of
propriety.
The inhabitants of Cadiz, being confined to
the rock on which their city is built, have made
the towns of Chiclana, Puerto Real, and Port
St. Mary's, their places of resort, especially in
the summer. The passage, by water, to Port
St. Mary's, is, upon an average, of about an
hour and a half, and the intercourse between
the two places, nearly as constant as between
a large city and its suburbs. Boats full of
passengers are incessantly crossing from day-
break till sun-set. This passage is not, how-
ever, without danger with a strong wind from
the east, in summer, or in rough weather, in
winter. At the mouth of the Guadalete, a
river that runs into the bay of Cadiz, by Port
St. Mary's, there are extensive banks of shift-
ing sands, which every year prove fatal to
many. The passage-boats are often excessively
16 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
crowded with people of all descriptions. The
Spaniards, however, are not so shy of strangers
as I have generally found your countrymen.
Place any two of them, male or female, by the
merest chance, together, and they will imme-
diately enter into some conversation. The
absolute disregard to a stranger, which custom
has established in England, would be taken for
an insult in any part of Spain; consequently
little gravity is preserved in these aquatic ex-
cursions.
In fine weather, when the female part of the
company are not troubled with fear or sickness,
the passengers indulge in a boisterous sort of
mirth, which is congenial to Andalusians of all
classes. It is known by the old Spanish word
Arana, pronounced with the Southern aspirate,
as if written Haranna. I do not know whether
I shall be able to convey a notion of this kind
of amusement. It admits of no liberties of
action, while every allowance is made for
words which do not amount to gross inde-
cency. It is if I may use the expression a
conversational row; or, to indulge a more strange
assemblage of ideas, the Arana is to conversa-
tion, what romping is to walking arm in arm.
In the midst, however, of hoarse laugh and loud
shouting, as soon as the boat reaches the
shoals, the steersman, raising his voice with a
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 17
gravity becoming a parish-clerk, addresses him-
self to the company in words amounting to
these " Let us pray for the souls of all that
have perished in this place." The pious address
of the boatman has a striking effect upon the
company : for one or two minutes every one
mutters a private prayer, whilst a sailor-boy
goes round collecting a few copper coins from
the passengers, which are religiously spent in
procuring masses for the souls in purgatory.
This ceremony being over, the riot is resumed
with unabated spirit, till the very point ot
landing.
I went by land to St. Lucar, a town of some
wealth and consequence at the mouth of the
Guadalquivir, or Boetis, where this river is lost
in the sea through a channel of more than a
mile in breadth. The passage to Seville, of
about twenty Spanish leagues up the river, is
tedious ; but I had often performed it, in early
youth, with great pleasure, and I now quite
forgot the change which twenty years must have
made upon my feelings. No Spanish convey-
ance is either comfortable or expeditious. The
St. Lucar boats are clumsy and heavy, without
a single accommodation for passengers. Half
of the hold is covered with hatches, but so low,
that one cannot stand upright under them. A
piece of canvass, loosely let down to the bot-
c
18 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
torn of the boat, is the only partition between
the passengers and the sailors. It would be
extremely unpleasant for any person, above
the lower class, to bear the inconveniences of
a mixed company in one of these boats. For-
tunately, it is neither difficult nor expensive to
obtain the exclusive hire of one. You must
submit, however, at the time of embarkation,
to the disagreeable circumstance of riding on a
man's shoulders from the water's edge to a lit-
tle skiff, which, from the flatness of the shore,
lies waiting for the passengers at the distance
of fifteen or twenty yards.
The country, on both sides of the river, is for
the most part flat and desolate. The eye roves
in vain over vast plains of alluvial ground in
search of some marks of human habitation.
Herds of black cattle, and large flocks of sheep,
are seen on two considerable islands formed
by different branches of the river. The fierce
Andalusian bulls, kept by themselves in large
enclosures, where, with a view to their ap-
pearance on the arena, they are made more
savage by solitude, are seen straggling here and
there down to the brink of the river, tossing
their shaggy heads, and pawing the ground on
the approach of the boat.
The windings of the river, and the growing-
shallows, which obstruct its channel, oblige
LETTERS FROM SPAIN 7 . 19
the boats to wait for the tide, except when there
is a strong wind from the south. After two
tedious days, and two uncomfortable nights,
I found myself under the Torre del Oro, a large
octagon tower of great antiquity, and generally
supposed to have been built by Julius Caesar,
which stands by the mole or quay of the capi-
tal of Andalusia, my native and long deserted
town. Townsend will acquaint you with its
situation, its general aspect, and the remark-
able buildings, which are the boast of the Se-
villanos. My task will be confined to the de-
scription of such peculiarities of the country as
he did not see, or which must have escaped his
notice.
The eastern custom of building houses on
the four sides of an open area is so general
in Andalusia, that, till my first journey to
Madrid, I confess I was perfectly at a loss to
conceive a habitable dwelling in any other
shape. The houses are generally two stories
high, with a gallery, or corrector, which, as the
name implies, runs along the four, or at least
the three sides of the Patio, or central square,
affording an external communication between
the rooms above stairs, and forming a covered
walk over the doors of the ground-floor apart-
ments. These two suites of rooms are a coun-
terpart to each other, being alternately in-
c2
20 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
habited or deserted in the seasons of winter
and summer. About the middle of October
every house in Seville is in a complete bustle
for two or three days. The lower apartments
are stripped of their furniture, and every chair
and table nay, the kitchen vestal, with all her
laboratory are ordered off to winter quarters.
This change of habitation, together with mats
laid over the brick-floors, thicker and warmer
than those used in summer, is all the provision
against cold, which is made in this country. A
flat and open brass pan, of about two feet dia-
meter, raised a few inches from the ground by
a round wooden frame, on which, those who sit
near it, may rest their feet, is used to burn char-
coal made of brush-wood, which the natives
call cisco. The fumes of charcoal are injurious
to the health ; but such is the effect of habit,
that the natives are seldom aware of any incon-
venience arising from the choking smell of their
brasiers.
The precautions against heat, however, are
numerous. About the latter end of May the
whole population moves down stairs. A thick
awning, which draws and undraws by means
of ropes and pullies, is stretched over the cen-
tral square, on a level with the roof of the
house. The window-shutters are nearly closed
from morning till sun- set, admitting just light
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 21
enough to see one another, provided the eyes
have not lately been exposed to the glare of the
streets. The floors are washed every morning,
that the evaporation of the water imbibed by
the bricks, may abate the heat of the air. A
very light mat, made of a delicate sort of rush,
and dyed with a variety of colours, is used in-
stead of a carpet. The Patio, or square, is
ornamented with flower-pots, especially round
a jet d'euu, which, in most houses, occupies its
centre. During the hot season the ladies sit
and receive their friends in the Patio. The
street-doors are generally open; but invariably
so from sunset till eleven or twelve in the night.
Three or four very large glass lamps are hung
in a line from the street-door to the opposite
end of the Patio; and, as in most houses,
those who meet at night for a Tertulia, are vi-
sible from the streets, the town presents a very
pretty and animated scene till near midnight.
The poorer class of people, to avoid the into-
lerable heat of their habitations, pass a great
part of the night in conversation at their doors ;
while persons of all descriptions are moving
about till late, either to see their friends, or to
enjoy the cool air in the public walks.
This gay scene vanishes, however, on the
approach of winter. The people retreat to the
upper floors; the ill-lighted streets are deserted
22 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
at the close of day ; and they become so dan-
gerous from robbers, that few but the young
and adventurous retire home from the Tertulia
without being attended by a servant, some-
times bearing a lighted torch. The free access
to every house, which prevails in summer, is
now checked by the caution of the inhabitants.
The entrance to the houses lies through a pas-
sage with two doors, one to the street, and
another called the middle-door (for there is ano-
ther at the top of the stairs) which opens into
the Patio. This passage is called Zaguan a
pure Arabic word, which means, I believe, a
porch. The middle-door is generally shut in the
day-time ; the outer one is never closed but at
night. Whoever wants to be admitted must
knock at the middle-door, and be prepared to
answer a question, which, as it presents one
of those little peculiarities which you are so
fond of hearing, I shall not consider as un-
worthy of a place in my narrative.
The knock at the door, which, by-the-by,
must be single, and by no means loud in fact,
a tradesman's knock in London is answered
with a Who is there? To this question the
stranger replies, " Peaceful people," Gente de
paz and the door is opened without farther
enquiries. Peasants and beggars call out at
the door, " Hail, spotless Mary !" Am, Maria
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 23
purisima! The answer, in that case, is given
from within in the words Sin pecado conccbida :
"Conceived without sin." This custom is a rem-
nant of the fierce controversy, which existed
about three hundred years ago, between the
Franciscan and the Dominican friars, whether
the Virgin Mary had or not been subject to the
penal consequences of original sin. The Do-
minicans were not willing to grant any exemp-
tion ; while the Franciscans contended for the
propriety of such a privilege. The Spaniards,
and especially the Sevillians, with their cha-
racteristic gallantry, stood for the honour of
our Lady, and embraced the latter opinion so
warmly, that they turned the watch-word of
their party into the form of address, which is
still so prevalent in Andalusia. During the
heat of the dispute, and before the Dominicans
had been silenced by the authority of the Pope,
the people of Seville began to assemble at
various churches, and, sallying forth with an
emblematical picture of the sinless Mary, set
upon a sort of standard surmounted by a cross,
they paraded the city in different directions,
singing a hymn to the Immaculate Conception, and
repeating aloud their beads or rosary. These
processions have continued to our times, and
they constitute one of the nightly nuisances of
this place. Though confined at present to the
24 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
lower classes, they assume that characteristic
importance and overbearing spirit, which at-
taches to the most insignificant religious asso-
ciations in this country. Wherever one of
these shabby processions presents itself to the
public, it takes up the street from side to side,
stopping the passengers, and expecting them
to stand uncovered in all kinds of weather, till
the standard is gone by. These awkward and
heavy banners are called, at Seville, Sinpecados,
that is, " sinless," from the theological opinion
in support of which they were raised.
The Spanish government, under Charles III.,
shewed the most ludicrous eagerness to have
the sinless purity of the Virgin Mary added by
the Pope to the articles of the Roman Catholic
faith. The court of Rome, however, with the
cautious spirit which has at all times guided
its spiritual politics, endeavoured to keep clear
from a stretch of authority, which, even some
of their own divines would be ready to ques-
tion ; but splitting, as it were, the difference
with theological precision, the censures of the
church were levelled against such as should
have the boldness to assert that the Virgin
Mary had derived any taint from " her great
ancestor;" and, having personified the Imma-
culate Conception, it was declared, that the Spa-
nish dominions in Europe and America were
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 25
under the protecting influence of that myste-
rious event. This declaration diffused univer-
sal joy over the whole nation. It was cele-
brated with public rejoicings on both sides of
the Atlantic. The king instituted an order
under the emblem of the Immaculate Concep-
tion a woman dressed in white and blue ; and
a law was enacted, requiring a declaration,
upon oath, of a firm belief in the Immaculate
Conception, from every individual, previous to
his taking any degree at the universities, or
being admitted into any of the corporations,
civil and religious, which abound in Spain.
This oath is administered even to mechanics
upon their being made free of a Guild.*
Here, however, I must break off, for fear of
making this packet too large for the confiden-
tial conveyance, which alone I could trust
without great risk of finishing my task in one
of the cells of the Holy Inquisition. I will
not fail, however, to resume my subject as soon
as circumstances will permit me.
* See Note A. at the end of the volume.
26 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
LETTER II.
Seville- - 1798.
TO A. D. C. ESQ.
MY DEAR SIR Your letter, acquainting me
with Lady 's desire that you should take
an active part in our correspondence on Spain,
has increased my hopes of carrying on a work,
which I feared would soon grow no less tire-
some to our friend than to me. Objects which
blend themselves with our daily habits are most
apt to elude our observation; and will, like
some dreams, fleet away through the mind,
unless an accidental word or thought should
set attention on the fast-fading track of their
course. Nothing, therefore, can be of greater
use to me than your queries, or help me so
much as your observations.
You must excuse, however, my declining to
give you a sketch of the national character of
the Spaniards. I have always considered such
descriptions as absolutely unmeaning a mere
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 27
assemblage of antitheses, where good and bad
qualities are contrasted for effect, and with lit-
tle foundation in nature. No man's powers of
observation can be, at once, so accurate and
extensive, so minute and generalizing, as to be
capable of embodying the peculiar features of
millions into an abstract being, which shall
contain traces of them all. Yet this is what
most travellers attempt after a few weeks resi-
dence what we are accustomed to expect
from the time that a Geographical Grammar
is first put into our hands. I shall not, there-
fore, attempt either abstraction or classifica-
tion, but endeavour to collect as many facts as
may enable others to perceive the general ten-
dency of the civil and religious state of my
country, and to judge of its influence on the
improvement or degradation of this portion of
mankind, independently of the endless modifi-
cations which arise from the circumstances,
external and internal, of every individual. I
will not overlook, however, the great divisions
of society, and shall therefore acquaint you
with the chief sources of distinction which both
law and custom have established among us.
The most comprehensive division of the peo-
ple of Spain is that of nobles and plebeians. But
I must caution you against a mistaken notion
which these words are apt to convey to an
28 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Englishman. In Spain, any person whose fa-
mily, either by immemorial prescription, or by
the king's patent, is entitled to exemption from
some burdens, and to the enjoyment of certain
privileges, belongs to the class of nobility. It
appears to me that this distinction originated
in the allotment of a certain portion of ground
in towns conquered from the Moors. In some
patents of nobility I cannot say whether they
are all alike the king, after an enumeration of
the privileges and exemptions to which he
raises the family, adds the general clause, that
they shall be considered, in all respects, as
Hidalgos de casa y solar conocido " Hidalgos,
i. e. nobles (for the words are become synony-
mous) of a known family and ground-plot" Many
of the exemptions attached to this class of
Franklins, or inferior nobility, have been with-
drawn in our times, not, however, without a
distinct recognition of the rank of such as
could claim them before the amendment of the
law. But still a Spanish gentleman, or Caval-
ier 'o a name which expresses the privileged
gentry in all its numerous and undefined gra-
dations cannot be ballotted for the militia ;
and none but an Hidalgo can enter the army as
a cadet. In the routine of promotion, ten ca-
dets, I believe, must receive a commission be-
fore a serjeant can have his turn and even
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 29
that is often passed over. Such as are fortunate
enough to be raised from the ranks can seldom
escape the reserve and slight of their prouder
fellow-officers; and the common appellation of
Pinos, " pine-trees" alluding, probably, to the
height required in a serjeant, like that of f reed-
man, among the Romans, implies a stain which
the first situations in the army cannot com-
pletely obliterate.
Noblesse, as I shall call it, to avoid an equi-
vocal term, descends from the father to all his
male children, for ever. But though a female
cannot transmit this privilege to her issue, her
being the daughter of an Hidalgo is of absolute
necessity to constitute what, in the language
of the country, is called " a nobleman on four
sides"- noble de quatro costados: that is, a man
whose parents, their parents, and their parents'
parents, belonged to the privileged class. None
but these square noblemen can receive the order
of knighthood. But we are fallen on degene-
rate times, and I could name many a knight in
this town who has been furnished with more
than one corner by the dexterity of the notaries,
who act as secretaries in collecting and draw-
ing up the proofs and documents required on
these occasions.
There exists another distinction of blood,
which, I think, is peculiar to Spain, and to
30 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
which the mass of the people are so blindly
attached, that the meanest peasant looks upon
the want of it as a source of misery and degra-
dation, which he is doomed to transmit to his
latest posterity. The least mixture of African,
Indian, Moorish, or Jewish blood, taints a whole
family to the most distant generation. Nor
does the knowledge of such a fact die away in
the course of years, or become unnoticed from
the obscurity and humbleness of the parties.
Not a child in this populous city is ignorant
that a family, who, beyond the memory of man,
have kept a confectioner's shop in the central
part of the town, had one of their ancestors
punished by the Inquisition for a relapse into
Judaism. I well recollect how, when a boy, I
often passed that way, scarcely venturing to
cast a side glance on a pretty young woman
who constantly attended the shop, for fear, as
I said to myself, of shaming her. A person
free from tainted blood is denned by law, " an
old Christian, clean from all bad race and
stain," Christiano viejo, limpio de toda mala raza,
y mancha. The severity of this law, or rather
of the public opinion enforcing it, shuts out its
victims from every employment in church or
state, and excludes them even from the Frater-
nities, or religious associations, which are other-
wise open to persons of the lowest ranks. I
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 31
verily believe, that were St. Peter a Spaniard,
he would either deny admittance into heaven
to people of tainted blood, or send them to a
retired corner, where they might not offend the
eyes of the old Christians.
But, alas ! what has been said of laws and
I believe it true in most countries, ancient and
modern, except England that they are like
cobwebs, which entrap the weak, and yield to
the strong and bold, is equally, and perhaps
more generally applicable to public opinion. It
is a fact, that many of the grandees, and the titled
noblesse of this country, derive a large portion
of their blood from Jews and Moriscoes. Their
pedigree has been traced up to those cankered
branches in a manuscript book, which neither
the influence of Government, nor the terrors of
the Inquisition, have been able to suppress
completely. It is called Tizon de Espana
" the Brand of Spain." But wealth and power
have set opinion at defiance ; and while a poor
industrious man, humbled by feelings not un-
like those of an Indian Paria, will hardly ven-
ture to salute his neighbour, because, forsooth,
his fourth or fifth ancestor fell into the hands
of the Inquisition for declining to eat pork
-the proud grandee, perhaps a nearer de-
scendant of the Patriarchs, will think himself
degraded by marrying the first gentlewoman in
32 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the kingdom, unless she brings him a hat, in ad-
dition to the six or eight which he may be
already entitled to wear before the king. But
this requires some explanation.
The highest privilege of a grandee is that of
covering his head before the king. Hence, by
two or more hats in a family, it is meant that it
has a right, by inheritance, to as many titles of
grandeeship. Pride having confined the gran-
dees to intermarriages in their own caste, and
the estates and titles being inheritable by fe-
males, an enormous accumulation of property
and honours has been made in a few hands.
The chief aim of every family is constantly to
increase this preposterous accumulation. Their
children are married, by dispensation, in their
infancy, to some great heir or heiress ; and
such is the multitude of family names and titles
which every grandee claims and uses, that if
you should look into a simple passport given
by the Spanish Ambassador in London, when
he happens to be a member of the ancient Spa-
nish families, you will find the whole first page
of a large foolscap sheet employed merely to
tell you who the great man is whose signature
is to close the whole. As far as vanity alone is
concerned, this ambitious display of rank and
parentage might, at this time of day, be dis-
missed with a smile. But there lurks a more
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 33
serious evil in the absurd and invidious system
so studiously preserved by our first nobility.
Surrounded by their own dependents, and
avoided by the gentry, who are seldom dis-
posed for an intercourse in which a sense of
inferiority prevails, few of the grandees are ex-
empt from the natural consequences of such
a life gross ignorance, intolerable conceit, and
sometimes, though seldom, a strong dose of
vulgarity. I would, however, be just, and by
no means tax individuals with every vice of
the class. But I believe I speak the prevalent
sense of the country upon this point. The
grandees have degraded themselves by their
slavish behaviour at Court, and incurred great
odium by their intolerable airs abroad. They
have ruined their estates by mismanagement
and extravagance, and impoverished the coun-
try by the neglect of their immense posses-
sions. Should there be a revolution in Spain,
wounded pride, and party spirit, would deny
them the proper share of power in the con-
stitution, to which their lands, their ancient
rights, and their remaining influence, entitle
them. Thus excluded from their chief and
peculiar duty of keeping the balance of power
between the throne and the people, the Spa-
nish grandees will remain a heavy burthen on
the nation ; while, either fearing for their over-
D
34 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
grown privileges, or impatient under reforms
which must fall chiefly on them and the clergy,
they will always be inclined to join the crown
in restoring the abuses of arbitrary govern-
ment.
Would to Heaven that an opportunity pre-
sented itself for re-modelling our constitution
after the only political system which has been
sanctioned by the experience of ages I mean
your own. We have nearly the same elements
in existence ; and low and degraded as we are
by the baneful influence of despotism, we
might yet, by a proper combination of our po-
litical forces, lay down the basis of a perma-
nent and improvable free constitution. But T
greatly fear that we have been too long in
chains, to make the best use of the first mo-
ments of liberty. Perhaps the crown, as well
as the classes of grandees and bishops, will be
suffered to exist, for want of power in the
popular party ; but they will be made worse
than useless through mere neglect and jealousy.
I am neither what you call a tory, nor a bigot ;
nor am I inditing a prophetic elegy on the
diminished glories of crowns, coronets, and
mitres. A levelling spirit I detest indeed, and
from my heart do I abhor every sort of spoli-
ation. Many years, however, must pass, and
strange events take place, before any such
evils can threaten this country. Spanish des-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 35
potistn is not of that insulting and irritating
nature which drives a whole people to mad-
ness. It is not the despotism of the taskmas-
ter whose lash sows vengeance in the hearts of
his slaves. It is the cautious forecast of the
husbandman who mutilates the cattle whose
strength he fears. The degraded animal grows
up, unconscious of the injury, and after a short
training, one might think he comes at last to
love the yoke. Such, I believe, is our state.
Taxes, among us, are rather ill-contrived than
grinding; and millions of the lower classes are
not aware of the share they contribute. They
all love their king, however they may dislike
the exciseman. Seigneurial rights are hardly
in existence : and both gentry and peasantry
find little to remind them of the exorbitant
power which the improvident and slothful life
of the grandees, at court, allows to lie dormant
and wasting in their hands. The majority of
the nation are more inclined to despise than to
hate them ; and though few men would lift up
a finger to support their rights, fewer still
would imitate the French in carrying fire and
sword to their mansions.
For bishops and their spiritual power Juan
Espanol* has as greedy and capacious a stomach,
* A name denoting the plain unsophisticated Spaniard.
D2
36 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
as John Bull for roast beef and ale. One single
class of people feels galled and restless, and
that unfortunately neither is, nor can be, numer-
ous in this country. The class I mean consists
of such as are able to perceive the encroach-
ments of tyranny on their intellectual rights
whose pride of mind, and consciousness of
mental strength, cause them to groan and fret,
daily and hourly, under the necessity of keep-
ing within the miry and crooked paths to which
ignorance and superstition have confined the
active souls of the Spaniards. But these, com-
pared with the bulk of the nation, are but a
mere handful. Yet, they may, under favour-
able circumstances, recruit and augment their
forces with the ambitious of all classes. They
will have, at first, to disguise their views, to
conceal their favourite doctrines, and even to
cherish those national prejudices, which, were
their real views known, would crush them to
atoms. The mass of the people may acquiesce
for a time in the new order of things, partly
from a vague desire of change and improve-
ment, partly from the passive political habits
which a dull and deadening despotism has bred
and rooted in the course of ages. The army
may cast the decisive weight of the sword on
the popular side of the balance, as long as it
suits its views. But if the church and the
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 37
great nobility are neglected in the distribution
of legislative power if, instead . of alluring
them into the path of liberty with the sweet
bait of constitutional influence, they are only
alarmed for their rights and privileges, without
a hope of compensation, they may be shovelled
and heaped aside, like a mountain of dead and
inert sand ; but they will stand, in their mas-
sive and ponderous indolence, ready to slide
down at every moment, and to bury the small
active party below, upon the least division of
strength. A house, or chamber of peers, com-
posed of grandees in their own right that
is, not, as is done at present, by the transfer
of one of the titles accumulated in the same
family of the bishops, and of a certain num-
ber of law lords regularly chosen from the su-
preme court of judicature (a measure of the
greatest importance to discourage the distinc-
tion of blood, which is, perhaps, the worst evil
in the present state of the great Spanish nobi-
lity), might, indeed, check the work of refor-
mation to a slower pace than accords with
the natural eagerness of a popular party. But
the legislative body would possess a regulator
within itself, which would faithfully mark the
gradual capacity for improvement in the na-
tion. The members of the privileged cham-
ber would themselves be improved and en-
38 LETTERS FROM SPAIN,
i
lightened by the exercise of constitutional
power, and the pervading influence of public
discussion : while, should they be overlooked
in any future attempt at a free constitution,
they will, like a diseased and neglected limb,
spread infection over the whole body, or, at
last, expose it to the hazard of a bloody and
dangerous amputation. But it is time to re-
turn to our Hidalgos.
As the Hidalguia branches out through every
male whose father enjoys that privilege, Spain
is overrun with gentry, who earn their living in
the meanest employments. The province of
Asturias having afforded shelter to that small
portion of the nation which preserved the
Spanish name and throne against the efforts of
the conquering Arabs, there is hardly a native
of that mountainous tract, who, even at this
day, cannot shew a legal title to honours
and immunities gained by his ancestors at a
time when every soldier had either a share in
the territory recovered from the invaders, or
was rewarded with a perpetual exemption from
such taxes and services as fell exclusively upon
the simple* peasantry. The numerous claim-
* My friend Don Leucadio, it should seem, learned this
sense of the word simple when he visited Scotland. Gentle
and simple, as I find in those inexhaustible sources of intel-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 39
ants of these privileges among the Asturians
of the present day lead me to think that in the
earliest times of the Spanish monarchy every
soldier was raised to the rank of a Franklin.
But circumstances are strangely altered. As-
turias is one of the poorest provinces of Spain,
and the noble inhabitants having, for the most
part, inherited no other patrimony from their
ancestors than a strong muscular frame, are
compelled to make the best of it among the
more feeble tribes of the south. In this capital
of Andalusia they have, literally, engrossed the
employments of watermen, porters, and foot-
men. Those belonging to the two first classes
are formed into a fraternity, whose members
have a right to the exclusive use of a chapel in
the cathedral. The privilege which they value
most, however, is that of affording the twenty
stoutest among them to convey the moveable
stage on which the consecrated host is paraded
in public, on Corpus Christi day, enshrined in
a small temple of massive silver. The bearers
are concealed behind the rich gold-cloth hang-
ings, which reach to the ground from the four
sides of the stage. The weight of the whole
machine is enormous ; yet these twenty men
lectual delight, the Novels by the author oT ," Waverley," are
used by the Scottish peasants in the same manner as Noble,
and Llano (plain, simple) by the Spaniards. Editor.
40 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
bear it on the hind part of the head and neck,
moving with such astonishing ease and regu-
larity, as if the motion arose from the impulse
of steam, or some steady mechanical power.
While these Gentlemen Hidalgos are employed
in such ungentle services, though the law al-
lows them the exemptions of their class, public
opinion confines them to their natural level.
The only chance for any of these disguised
noblemen to be publicly treated with due honour
and deference is, unfortunately, one for which
they feel an unconquerable aversion that of
being delivered into the rude hands of a Spanish
Jack Ketch. We had here, two years ago,
an instance of this, which I shall relate, as
being highly characteristic of our national pre-
judices about blood.
A gang of five banditti was taken within the
jurisdiction of this Audiencia, or chief court of
justice, one of whom, though born and brought
up among the lowest ranks of society, was, by
family, an Hidalgo, and had some relations
among the better class of gentlemen. I believe
the name of the unfortunate man was Herrera,
and that he was a native of a town about thirty
English miles from Seville, called el Arahal.
But I have not, at present, the means of as-
certaining the 'accuracy of these particulars.
After lingering, as usual, four or five years in
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 41
prison, these unfortunate men were found
guilty of several murders and highway rob-
beries, and sentenced to suffer death. The
relations of the Hidalgo, who, foreseeing this
fatal event, had been watching the progress of
the trial, in order to step forward just in time
to avert the stain which a cousin, in the second
or third remove, would cast upon their family,
if he died in mid-air like a villain, presented a
petition to the judges, accompanied with the
requisite documents, claiming for their relative
the honours of his rank, and engaging to pay
the expenses attending the execution of a no-
bleman. The petition being granted as a mat-
ter of course, the following scene took place.
At a short distance from the gallows on which
the four simple robbers were to be hanged in a
cluster from the central point of the cross-beam,
all dressed in white shrouds, with their hands
tied before them, that the hangman, who ac-
tually rides upotfthe shoulders of the criminal,
may place his foot as in a stirrup*, was raised
a scaffold about ten feet high, with an area of
about fifteen by twenty, the whole of which
and down to the ground, on all sides, was
covered with black baize. In the centre of the
* The Cortes have abolished this barbarous method of
inflicting death.
42 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
scaffold was erected a sort of arm-chair, with
a stake for its back, against which, by means
of an iron collar attached to a screw, the neck
is crushed by one turn of the handle. This
machine is called Garrote " a stick" from
the old-fashioned method of strangling, by
twisting the fatal cord with a stick. Two
flights of steps on opposite sides of the stage
afforded a separate access, one for the criminal
and the priest, the other for the executioner
and his attendant.
The convict, dressed in a loose gown of
black baize, rode on a horse, a mark of dis-
tinction peculiar to his class, (plebeians riding
on an ass, or being dragged on a hurdle,)
attended by a priest, and a notary, and sur-
rounded by soldiers. Black silk cords were
prepared to bind him to the arms of the seat,
for ropes are thought dishonourable. After
kneeling to receive the last absolution from the
priest, he took off a ring, with which the un-
fortunate man had been provided for that me-
lancholy occasion. According to etiquette he
should have disdainfully thrown it down for the
executioner ; but, as a mark of Christian hu-
mility, he put it into his hand. The sentence
being executed, four silver candlesticks, five
feet high, with burning wax-candles of a pro-
portionate length and thickness, were placed
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 43
at the corners of the scaffold ; and in about
three hours, a suitable funeral was conducted
by the posthumous friends of the noble robber,
who, had they assisted him to settle in life
with half of what they spent for this absurd,
and disgusting show, might, perhaps, have
saved him from this fatal end. But these ho-
nours being what is called a positive act of
noblesse, of which a due certificate is given to
the surviving parties, to be recorded among
the legal proofs of their rank, they may have
acted under the idea that their relative was fit
only to add lustre to the family by the close of
his career.
The innumerable and fanciful gradations of
family rank which the Spaniards have formed
to themselves, without the least foundation in
the laws of the country, are difficult to describe.
Though the Hidalguia is a necessary qualifica-
tion, especially in country towns, to be admit-
ted into the best society, it is by no means
sufficient, by itself, to raise the views of every
Hidalgo to a family connexion with the " blue
blood"- sangre azul of the country. The shades
by which the vital fluid approaches this privi-
leged hue would baffle the skill of the best
colourist. These prejudices, however, have
lost much of their force at Madrid, except
among the grandees, and in such maritime
44 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
towns as Malaga and Cadiz, where commerce
has raised many new, and some foreign fami-
lies, into consequence. But there is a pervad-
ing spirit of vanity in the nation, which actuates
even the lowest classes, and may be discovered
in the evident mortification which menials and
mechanics are apt to feel, on the omission of
some modes of address intended, as it were,
to cast a veil on the humbleness of their con-
dition. To call a man by the name of black-
smith, butcher, coachman, would be considered
an insult. They all expect to be called either
by their Christian name, or by the general ap-
pellation Maestro, and in both cases with the
prefix Seiior; unless the word expressing the
employment should imply superiority : as
Mayoral, chief coachman Rabadan, chief
shepherd Aperador, bailiff. These, and similar
names, are used without an addition, and sound
well in the ears of the natives. But no female
would suffer herself to be addressed cook,
washerwoman, Sec. ; they all feel and act as if,
having a natural claim to a higher rank, mis-
fortune alone had degraded them. Poverty,
unless it be extreme, does not disqualify a
man of family for the society of his equals.
Secular clergymen, though plebeians, are, ge-
nerally, well received ; but the same indul-
gence is not readily extended to monks and
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 45
friars, whose unpolished manners betray too
openly the meanness of their birth. Whole-
sale merchants, if they belong to the class of
Hidalgos, are not avoided by the great gentry.
In the law, attorneys and notaries are considered
to be under the line of Cavalleros, though their
rank, as in England, depends a great deal on
their wealth and personal respectability. Phy-
sicians are nearly in the same case.
Having now made you acquainted with what
is here called the best sort of people, you will
probably like to have a sketch of their daily
life : take it, then, neither from the first, nor
the last of the class.
Breakfast, in Spain, is not a regular family
meal. It generally consists of chocolate, and
buttered toast, or muffins, called molletes. Irish
salt-butter is very much in use ; as the heat of
the climate does not allow the luxuries of the
dairy, except in the mountainous tracts of the
north. Every one calls for his chocolate when-
ever it suits him; and most people take it
when they come from mass a ceremony
seldom omitted, even by such as cannot be
reckoned among the highly religious. After
breakfast, the gentlemen repair to their occu-
pations ; and the ladies, who seldom call upon
one another, will often enjoy the amusement of
music and a sermon at the church appointed on
4G LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
that day for the public adoration of the conse-
crated Host, which, from morning till night,
takes place throughout the year. in this, and a
few other large towns. This is called eljubileo
the jubilee; as, by a spiritual grant of the
Pope, those who visit the appointed church,
are entitled to the plenary indulgence which,
in former times, rewarded the trouble and dan-
gers of a journey to Rome, on the first year of
every century a poor substitute, indeed, for
the ludi s&culares, which, in former times, drew
people thither from all parts of the Roman em-
pire. The bait, however, was so successful
for a time, that jubilees were celebrated every
twenty-five years. But when the taste for
papal indulgences began to be cloyed by ex-
cess, few would move a foot, and much less
undertake a long journey, to spend their
money for the benefit of the Pope and his Ro-
man subjects. In these desperate circum-
stances, the Holy Father thought it better to
send the jubilee, with its plenary indulgence,
to the distant sheep of his flock, than to wait
in vain for their coming to seek it at Rome.
To this effort of pastoral generosity we owe
the inestimable advantage of being able, every
day, to perform a spiritual visit to St. Peter's
at Rome ; which, to those who are indifferent
about architectural beauty, is infinitely cheaper,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 47
and just as profitable, as a pilgrimage to the
vicinity of the Capitol.
About noon the ladies are at home, where,
employed at their needle, they expect the
morning calls of their friends. I have already
told you how easy it is for a gentleman to gain
an introduction to any family : the slightest
occasion will produce what is called an offer of
the house, when you are literally told that the
house is yours. Upon the strength of this offer,
you may drop in as often as you please, and
idle away hour after hour, in the most un-
meaning, or, it may chance, the most interest-
ing conversation.
The mention of this offer of the house in-
duces me to give you some idea of the hyper-
bolical civility of my countrymen. When an
English nobleman, well known both to you
and me, was some years ago travelling in this
country, he wished to spend a fortnight at Bar-
celona ; but, the inn being rather uncomfort-
able for himself and family, he was desirous of
procuring a country-house in the neighbourhood
of the town. It happened at this time that a
rich merchant, for whom our friend had a
letter, called to pay his respects ; and in a
string of high-flown compliments, he assured
his Lordship that both his town-house and his
villa were entirely at his service. My lady's
48 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
eyes sparkled with joy, and she was rather
vexed that her husband had hesitated a mo-
ment to secure the villa for his family. Doubts
arose as to the sincerity of the offer, but she
could not be persuaded that such forms of ex-
pression are to be taken, in this country, in the
same sense as the " Madam, I am at your
feet," with which every gentleman addresses
a lady. After all, the merchant, no doubt to
his great astonishment, received a very civil
note, accepting the loan of his country-house.
But, in answer to the note, he sent an awkward
excuse, and never shewed his face again. The
poor man was so far from being to blame, that
he only followed the established custom of the
country, according to which it would be rude-
ness not to offer any part of your property
which you either mention or show. Fortu-
nately, Spanish etiquette is just and equitable
on this point ; for as it would not pardon the
omission of the offer, so it would never forgive
the acceptance.
A foreigner must be surprised at the strange
mixture of caution and liberty which appears
in the manners of Spain. Most rooms have
glass doors ; but when this is not the case, it
would be highly improper for any lady to sit
with a gentleman, unless the doors are open.
Yet, when a lady is slightly indisposed in bed,
LETTERS FROM S^Altf. 49
she does not scruple to see every one of her
male visitors. A lady seldom takes a gentle-
man's arm, and never shakes him by the hand ;
but on the return of an old acquaintance after
a considerable absence, or when they wish joy
for some agreeable event, the common salute
is an embrace. An unmarried woman must
not be seen alone out of doors, nor must she sit
tete-a-tcte with a gentleman, even when the
doors of the room are open ; but;, as soon as
she is married, she may go by herself where
she pleases, and sit alone with any man for
many hours every day. You have in England
strange notions of Spanish jealousy. I can,
however, assure you, that if Spanish husbands
were, at any time, what novels and old plays
represent them, no race in Europe has under-
gone a more thorough change.
Dinners are generally at one, and in a few
houses, between two and three. Invitations
to dine are extremely rare. On some extra-
ordinary occasions, as that of a young man
performing his first mass a daughter taking
the veil and, in the more wealthy houses, on
the saint-days of the heads of the family, they
make what is called a convite, or feast. Any
person accustomed to your private dinners,
would be thrown into a fever by one of these
parties. The height of luxury, on these occa-
50 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
sions, is what we call Comida de Fonda a din-
ner from the coffee-house. All the dishes are
dressed at an inn, and brought ready to be
served at table. The Spanish houses, even
those of the best sort, are so ill provided with
every thing required at table, that wine, plates,
glasses, knives and forks, are brought from the
inn together with the dinner. The noise and
confusion of these feasts is inconceivable. Every
one tries to repay the hospitable treat with
mirth and noise; and though Spaniards are,
commonly, water-drinkers, the bottle is used
very freely on these occasions ; but they do not
continue at table after eating the dessert.
Upon the death of any one in a family, the
nearest relatives send a dinner of this kind, on
the day of the funeral, that they may save the
chief mourners the trouble of preparing an en-
tertainment for such of their kindred as have
attended the body to church. Decorum, how-
ever, forbids any mirth on these occasions.
After I became acquainted with English hos-
pitality, my mind was struck with a custom,
which, being a matter of course in Spain, had
never attracted my notice. An invitation to
dinner, which, by the by, is never given in
writing, must not be accepted on the first pro-
posal. Perhaps our complimentary language
makes it necessary to ascertain how far the in-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 51
viter may be in earnest, and a good-natured
civility has made it a rule to give national
vanity fair play, and never, without proper cau-
tion, to trust pot-luck, where fortune so seldom
smiles upon that venerable utensil. The first
invitation " to eat the soup" should be answered,
therefore, with " a thousand thanks ; " by which
a Spaniard civilly declines what no one wishes
him to accept. If, after this skirmish of good
breeding, the offer should be repeated, you
may begin to suspect that your friend is in
earnest, and answer him in the usual words, no
se meta Usted en eso " do not engage in such
a thing." At this stage of the business, both
parties having gone too far to recede, the invi-
tation is repeated and accepted.
I might, probably, have omitted the mention
of this custom, had I not found, as it appears
to me, a curious coincidence between Spanish
and ancient Greek manners on this__pmnt. Per-
haps you recollect that Xenophon opens his
little work called " The Banquet," by stating
how Socrates and his pupils, who formed the
greater part of the company at the entertain-
ment therein described, were invited by Callias,
a rich citizen of Athens. The feast was in-
tended to celebrate the victory of a young-
man, who had obtained the crown at the Pan-
athenaean games. Callias was walking home
E'2
52 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
with his young friend to the Pireus, when he
saw Socrates and his daily companions. He
accosted the former in a familiar and play-
ful manner, and, after a little bantering
on his philosophical speculations, requested
both him and his friends to give him the
pleasure of their company at table. " They,
however," says Xenophon, " at first, as was
proper, thanked him, and declined the invi-
tation ; but when it clearly appeared that he was
angry at the refusal, they followed him." I am
aware that the words in Xenophon admit
another interpretation, and that the phrase
which I render, as was proper, may be applied
to the thanks alone ; but it may be referred,
with as much or better reason, both to thanks
and refusal, and the custom which I have stated
inclines me strongly to adopt that sense.* The
truth is, that wherever dinner is not, as in Eng-
land, the chief and almost exclusive season of
social converse, an invitation to dine must ap-
pear somewhat in the light of a gift or pre-
sent which every man of delicacy feels re-
luctant to accept at all from a mere acquain-
tance, or, without some degree of compulsion,
from a friend. Besides, we know the abuse
and ridicule with which both Greeks and
* See note B.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 53
Romans attacked the Parasites, or dinner-hun-
ters ; and it is very natural to suppose that a
true gentleman would be upon his guard against
the most distant resemblance to those unfor-
tunate starvelings.
The custom of sleeping after dinner, called
Siesta, is universal in summer, especially in An-
dalusia, where the intenseness of the heat pro- :
duces languor and drowsiness. In winter,
taking a walk, just after rising from table, is
very prevalent. Many gentlemen, previously
to their afternoon walk, resort to the coffee-
houses, which now begin to be in fashion.
Almost every considerable town of Spain is
provided with a public walk, where the better
classes assemble in the afternoon. These
places are called Alamedas, from Alamo, a com-
mon name for the elm and poplar, the trees
which shade such places. Large stone benches
run in the direction of the alleys, where people
sit, either to rest themselves, or to carry on a
long talk, in whispers, with the next lady ; an
amusement which, in the idiom of the country,
is expressed by the strange phrase, pelar la
Pava " to pluck the hen-turkey." We have
in our Alameda several fountains of the most
delicious water. No less than twenty or thirty
men with glasses, each holding nearly a quart,
move in every direction, so dextrously clash-
54 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ing two of them in their hands, that, without
any danger of breaking them, they keep up a
pretty lively tinkling like that of well-tuned
small bells. So great is the quantity of water
which these people sell to the frequenters of
the walk, that most of them live throughout
the year on what they thus earn in summer.
Success in this trade depends on their prompt-
itude to answer every call, their neatness in
washing the glasses, and most of all, on their
skilful use of the good-natured waggery pecu-
liar to the lower classes of Andalusia. A know-
ing air, an arch smile, and some honied words
of praise and endearment, as " My rose," " My
soul," and many others, which even a modest
and high-bred lady will hear without displea-
sure, are infallible means of success among
tradesmen who deal with the public at large,
and especially with the more tender part of the
public. The company in these walks presents
a motley crowd of officers in their regimentals,
of clergymen in their cassocks, black cloaks,
and broad-brimmed hats, not unlike those of
the coalmen in London, and of gentlemen
wrapped up in their capas, or in some uniform,
without which a well-born Spaniard is almost
ashamed to shew himself.
The ladies' walking-dress is susceptible of
little variety. Nothing short of the house
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 55
being on fire would oblige a Spanish woman to
step out of doors without a black petticoat,
called Basquina, or Saya, and a broad black
veil, hanging from the head over the shoulders,
and crossed on the breast like a shawl, which
they call Mantilla. The mantilla is, generally,
of silk trimmed round with broad lace. In
summer-evenings some white mantillas are seen ;
but no lady would wear them in the morning,
and much less venture into a church in such a
profane dress.
A showy fan is indispensable, in all seasons-,
both in and out of doors. An Andalusian wo-
man might as well want her tongue as her fan.
The fan, besides, has this advantage over the
natural organ of speech that it conveys
thought to a greater distance. A dear friend
at the farthest end of the public walk, is
greeted and cheered up by a quick, tremu-
lous motion of the fan, accompanied with se-
veral significant nods. An object of indif-
ference is dismissed with a slow, formal in-
clination of the fan, which makes his blood
run cold. The fan, now, screens the titter and
whisper ; now condenses a smile into the dark
sparkling eyes, which take their aim just above
it. A gentle tap of the fan commands the at-
tention of the careless ; a waving motion calls
the distant. A certain twirl between the fin-
56 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
gers betrays doubt or anxiety a quick closing
and displaying the folds, indicates eagerness
or joy. In perfect combination with the ex-
pressive features of my countrywomen, the
fan is a magic wand, whose power is more
easily felt than described.
What is mere beauty, compared with the
fascinating power arising from extreme sensi-
bility ? Such as are alive to those invisible
charms, will hardly find a plain face among the
young women of Andalusia. Their features
may not, at first view, please the eye ; but
they seem to improve every day till they grow
beautiful. Without the advantages of educa-
tion, without even external accomplishments,
the vivacity of their fancy sheds a perpetual
glow over their conversation ; and the warmth
of their heart gives the interest of affection
to their most indifferent actions. But Nature,
like a too fond mother, has spoilt them, and
Superstition has completed their ruin. While
the activity of their minds is allowed to run
waste for want of care and instruction, the
consciousness of their powers to please im-
presses them with an early notion that life has
but one source of happiness. Were their
charms the effect of that cold twinkling flame
which flutters round the hearts of most French^
women, they would be only dangerous to the
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 57
peace and usefulness of one half of society.
But, instead of being the capricious tyrants of
men, they are, generally, their victims. Few,
very few Spanish women, and none, I will
venture to say, among the Andalusians, have
it in their power to be coquettes. If it may
be said without a solecism, there is more of
that vice in our men than in our females. The
first, leading a life of idleness, and deprived
by an ignorant, oppressive, and superstitious
government, of every object that can raise and
feed an honest ambition, waste their whole
youth, and part of their manly age, in trifling
with the best feelings of the tender sex, and
poisoning, for mere mischief's sake, the very
springs of domestic happiness. But our's is
the most dire and complex disease that ever
preyed upon the vitals of human society. With
some of the noblest qualities that a people can
possess (you will excuse an involuntary burst
of national partiality), we are worse than de-
graded we are depraved, by that which is
intended to cherish and exalt every social vir-
tue. Our corrupters, our mortal enemies, are
religion and government. To set the practical
proofs of this bold position in a striking light,
is, undoubtedly, beyond my abilities. Yet
such, I must say, is the force of the proofs I
possess on this melancholy topic, that they
58 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
nearly overcome my mind with intuitive evi-
dence. Let me, then, take leave of the sub-
ject into which my feelings have hurried me,
by assuring you, that wherever the slightest
aid is afforded to the female mind in this coun-
try, it exhibits the most astonishing quickness
and capacity; and that, probably, no other
nation in the world can present more lovely
instances of a glowing and susceptible heart
preserving unspotted purity, not from the
dread of public opinion, but in spite of its en-
couragements.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 59
LETTER III.
Seville, 1799.
FORTUNE has favoured me with an acquaint-
ance a young clergyman of this town for
whom, since our first introduction, I have felt
a growing esteem, such as must soon ripen
into the warmest affection. Common danger,
and common suffering, especially of the mind,
prove often the readiest and most indissoluble
bonds of human friendship : and when to this
influence is added the blending power of an in-
tercommunity of thoughts and sentiments, no
less unbounded than the confidence with which
two men put thereby their liberty, their for-
tune, and their life into the hands of each other
imagination can hardly measure the warmth
and devotedness of honest hearts thus united.
60 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Spaniards, who have broken the trammels of
superstition, possess a wonderful quickness to
mark and know one another. Yet caution is
so necessary, that we never offer the right hand
of fellowship till, by gradual approaches, the
heart and mind are carefully scanned on both
sides. There are bullies in mental no less than
in animal courage : and I have sometimes been
in danger of committing myself with a pomp-
ous fool that was hazarding propositions in the
evening, which he was sure to lay, in helpless
fear, before the confessor, the next morning ;
and who, had he met with free and unqualified
assent from any one of the company, would
have tried to save his own soul and body by
carrying the whole conversation to the Inqui-
sitors. But the character of my new friend
was visible at a glance ; and, after some con-
versation, I could not feel the slightest appre-
hension that there might lurk in his heart either
the villainy or the folly which can betray a
man, in this world, under a pretext of ensuring
his happiness in the next. He too, either from
the circumstance of my long residence in Eng-
land, or, as I hope, from something more pro-
perly belonging to myself, soon opened his
whole mind ; and we both uttered downright
heresy. After this mutual, this awful pledge,
LETTERS FROM SPA IK. Gl
the Scythian ceremony of tasting each other's
blood could not have more closely bound us in
interest and danger.
The coolness of an orange-grove is not more
refreshing to him who has panted across one of
our burning plains, under the meridian sun in
August, than the company of a few trusty
friends to some unbending minds, after a long
day of restraint and dissimulation. When af-
ter our evening walk we are at last comfortably
seated round my friend's reading-table, where
an amiable young officer, another clergyman,
and one of the most worthy and highly-gifted
men that tyranny and superstition have con-
demned to pine in obscurity, are always wel-
comed with a cordiality approaching to rapture
I cannot help comparing our feelings to those
which we might suppose in Christian slaves at
Algiers, who, having secretly unlocked the
rivets of their fetters, could shake them off to
feast and riot in the dead of night, cheering their
hearts with wild visions of liberty, and salving
their wounds with vague hopes of revenge.
Revenge, did I say! what a false notion would
that word give you of the characters that com-
pose our little club ! I doubt if Nature herself
could so undo the work of her hands as to
transform any one of my kind, my benevolent
62 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
friends, into a man of blood. As to myself,
mere protestations were useless. You know
me ; and I shall leave you to judge. But there
is a revenge of the fancy, perfectly consistent
with true mildness and generosity, though cer-
tainly more allied to quick sensibility than to
sound and sober judgment. The last, how-
ever, should be seldom, if at all, looked for
among persons in our circumstances. Our
childhood is artificially protracted till we won-
der how we have grown old : and, being kept
at an immeasurable distance from the affairs
and interests of public life, our passions, our
virtues, and our vices, like those of early youth,
have deeper roots in the imagination than the
heart. I will not say that this is a prevalent
feature in the character of my countrymen; but I
have generally observed it among the best and
the worthiest. As to my confidential friends,
especially the one I mentioned at the beginning
of this letter, in strict conformity with the
temper which, I fear, I have but imperfectly
described, they spend their lives in giving
vent, among themselves, to the suppressed
feelings of ridicule or indignation, of which the
religious institutions of this country are a
perennial source to those who are compelled to
receive them as of Divine authority. England
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 63
has so far improved me, that I can perceive
the folly of this conduct. I am aware that,
instead of indulging this childish gratification
of our anger, we should be preparing ourselves,
by a profound study of our ancient laws and
customs, and a perfect acquaintance with the
pure and original doctrines of the Gospel, for
any future opening to reformation in our church
and state. But, under this intolerable system
of intellectual oppression, we have associated
the idea of Spanish law with despotism, and
that of Christianity with absurdity and perse-
cution. After my return from England I feel
almost involuntarily relapsing into the old
habits of my mind. "With my friends, who
have never left their country, any endeavour to
break and counteract such habits would be
perfectly hopeless. Despondency drives them
into a course of reading and thinking, which
leads only to suppressed contempt and whis-
pered sarcasm. The violence which they must
constantly do to their best feelings, might
breed some of the fiercer passions in breasts
less softened with " the milk of human kind-
ness." But their hatred of the prevailing
practices and opinions does not extend to per-
sons. Yet I for one must confess, that were I
to act from a first and habitual impulse, with-
C4 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
out listening to my better judgment, there is
not a saint or a relic in the country I would
not trample under foot, and treat with the ut-
most indignity. As things are, however, I
content myself with scoffing and railing the
whole day. But I trust that, on a change of
circumstances, I should act more soberly than
I feel.
I should have found it very difficult, without
this fortunate intimacy with a man who, though
still in the prime of youth, has lately obtained,
by literary competition, a place among what
we call the higher clergy that is, such as are
above the cure of souls to give you an insight
into the internal constitution of the Spanish
church, the vices of the system which prepares
our young men for the altar, and the ruinous
foundations on which the ecclesiastical law,
aided by civil power, hazards the morals of our
religious teachers and their flocks. When I
had expressed to my friend my desire of having
his assistance in carrying on this correspond-
ence, as well as satisfied his mind on the im-
probability of any thing entrusted to you recoil-
ing upon himself in Spain, he shewed me a
manuscript he had drawn up some time before,
under the title : " A few facts connected with
the formation of the intellectual and moral cha-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN 65
racter of a Spanish Clergyman." " Who knows,"
he said, " but that this sketch may answer
your purpose ? No traveller's-guide account
of our universities and clerical establishments
can convey such a living picture of our state,
as the history of a young mind trained up un-
der their influence. You might easily find a
list of the professors, endowments, and class-
books, of which the framework of Spanish edu-
cation consists. But who would have the pa-
tience to read it, or what could he learn from
it ? I had intended that this little effusion of
an oppressed and struggling mind should lie
concealed till some future period, probably
after my death, when my country might be
prepared to learn and lament the wrongs she
has, for ages, done to her children. But, since
you have provided against discovery, and are
willing to translate into English any thing I
may give you, it will be some satisfaction to
know that the results of my sad experience are
laid before the most enlightened and benevolent
people of Europe. Perhaps, if they know the
true source of our evils, the day will come when
they may be able and willing to help us."
The question with me now was, not whether
1 should accept the manuscript, but whether I
could do it justice in the translation. Trusting,
66 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
however, that the novelty of the matter would
atone for the faults of my style, labour and
perseverance have, at length, enabled me to
enclose it in this letter. As I have thus intro-
duced a stranger to you, I am bound in com-
mon civility to fall into the back- ground, and
let him speak for himself.
A few Facts connected with the formation of the
Intellectual and Moral Character of a Spanish
Clergyman.
" I DO not possess the cynical habits of
mind which would enable me, like Rousseau,
to expose my heart naked to the gaze of the
world. I have neither his unfortunate and
odious propensities to gloss by an affected
candour, nor his bewitching eloquence to dis-
play : and as I must overcome no small reluct-
ance and fear of impropriety to enter upon the
task of writing an account of the workings of
my mind and heart, I have some reason to be-
lieve that I am led to do so by a sincere desire
of being useful to others. Millions of human
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. t>7
creatures are made to venture their happiness
on a form of Christianity which possesses the
strongest claims to our attention, both from its
great antiquity, and the extent of its sway over
the most civilized part of the earth. The vari-
ous effects of that religious system, unmixed
with any thing unauthorized or spurious, upon
my country, my friends, and myself, have been
the object of my most serious attention, from the
very dawn of reason till the moment when I am
writing these lines. If the result of my expe-
rience should be, that religion, as it is taught
and enforced in Spain, is productive of exquisite
misery in the amiable and good, and of gross
depravity in the unfeeling and the thoughtless
that it is an insuperable obstacle to the im-
provement of the mind, and gives a decided
ascendancy to lettered absurdity, and to dull-
headed bigotry that it necessarily breeds such
reserve and dissimulation in the most promising
and valuable part of the nation as must check
and stunt the noblest of public virtues, candour
and political courage if all this, and much
more that I am not able to express in the abs-
tract form of simple positions, should start
into view from the plain narrative of an obscure
individual, I hope I shall not be charged with
the silly vanity of attributing any intrinsic
F2
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
importance to the domestic events and pri-
vate feelings which are to fill up the following
pages.
" I was born of parents who, though pos-
sessed of little property, held a decent rank
among the gentry of my native town. Their
characters, however, are so intimately con-
nected with the formation of my own, that I
shall indulge an honest pride in describing
them.
" My father was the son of a rich merchant,
who obtained for himself and descendants a
patent of Hidalguia, or noblesse, early in the
reign of Ferdinand VI. During the life of my
grandfather, and the consequent prosperity of
his house, my father was sent abroad for his
education. This gave a polish to his manners,
which, at that period, was not easily found
even in the first ranks of the nobility. Little
more than accomplishments, however, was left
him, when, in consequence of his father's
death, the commercial concerns of the house,
being managed by a stranger, received a shock
which had nearly reduced the family to poverty
and want. Yet something was saved ; and my
father, who, by some unaccountable infatua-
tion, had not been brought up to business, was
now obliged to exert himself to the utmost of
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 69
his power. Joining, therefore, in partnership
with a more wealthy merchant, who had ma?- '
ried one of his sisters, he contrived, by care
and diligence, together with a strict, though
not sordid economy, not to descend below the
rank in which he had been born. Under these
unpromising circumstances he married my
mother, who, if she could add but little to her
husband's fortune, yet brought him a treasure
of love and virtue, which he found constantly
increasing, till death removed him on the first
approaches of old age.
" My mother was of honourable parentage.
She was brought up in that absence of mental
cultivation which prevails, to this day, among
the Spanish ladies. But her natural talents
were of a superior cast. She was lively, pret-
ty, and sang sweetly. Under the influence of
a happier country, her pleasing, vivacity, the
quickness of her apprehension, and the exqui-
site degree of sensibility which animated her
words and actions, would have qualified her to
shine in the most elegant and refined circles.
Benevolence prompted all my father's actions,
endued him, at times, with something like su-
pernatural vigour, and gave him, for the good
of his fellow-creatures, the courage and deci-
sion he wanted in whatever concerned himself.
70 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
With hardly any thing to spare, I do not recol-
lect a time when our house was not a source of
relief and consolation to some families of such
as, by a characteristic and feeling appellation,
are called among us the blushing poor.* In all
seasons, for thirty years of his life, my father
allowed himself no other relaxation, after the
fatiguing business of his counting-house, than a
visit to the general hospital of this town a
horrible scene of misery, where four or five
hundred beggars are, at a time, allowed to lay
themselves down and die, when worn out by
want and disease. Stripping himself of his
coat, and having put on a coarse dress for the
sake of cleanliness, in which he was scrupulous
to a fault, he was employed, till late at night,
in making the beds of the poor, taking the
helpless in his arms, and stooping to such
services as even the menials in attendance
\ were often loth to perform. All this he did
of his own free will, without the least con-
nexion, public or private, with the establish-
ment. Twice he was at death's door from the
contagious influence of the atmosphere in which
he exerted his charity. But no danger would
appal him when engaged in administering re-
Pobres tergonzantes.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 71
lief to the needy. Foreigners, cast by misfor-
tune into that gulf of wretchedness, were the
peculiar objects of his kindness.
" The principle of benevolence was not less
powerful in my mother ; but her extreme sensi-
bility made her infinitely more susceptible of
pain than of pleasure of fear than of hope
and, for such characters, a technical religion is
ever a source of distracting terrors. Enthu-
siasm that bastard of religious liberty, that
vigorous weed of Protestantism does not
thrive under the jealous eye of infallible autho-
rity. Catholicism, it is true, has, in a few in-
stances, produced a sort of splendid madness ;
but its visions and trances partake largely of
the tameness of a mind previously exhausted
by fears and agonies meekly borne under the au-
thority of a priest. The throes of the New Birth
harrow up the mind of the Methodist, and give
it that frenzied energy of despair, which often
settles into the all-hoping, all-daring raptures
of the enthusiast. The Catholic Saint suffers
in all the passiveness of blind submission, till
nature sinks exhausted, and reason gives way
to a gentle, visionary madness. The natural
powers of my mother's intellect were strong
enough to withstand, unimpaired, the enormous
and constant pressure of religious fears in their
72 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
most hideous shape. But, did I not deem reason
the only gift of Heaven which fully compen-
sates the evils of this present existence, I might
have wished for its utter extinction in the first
and dearest object of my natural affection.
Had she become a visionary, she had ceased
to be unhappy. But she possessed to the last
an intellectual energy equal to any exertion,
except one, which was not compatible with
the influence of her country that of look-
ing boldly into the dark recess where lurk-
ed the phantoms that harassed and distressed
her mind.
" It would be difficult, indeed, to choose two
fairer subjects for observing the effects of the
religion of Spain. The results, in both, were
lamentable, though certainly not the most mis-
chievous it is apt to produce. In one, we see
mental soberness and good sense degraded into
timidity and indecision unbounded goodness
of heart, confined to the lowest range of bene-
volence. In the other, we mark talents of a
superior kind, turned into the ingenious tor-
mentors of a heart, whose main source of
wretchedness was an exquisite sensibility to
the beauty of virtue, and an insatiate ardour
in treading the devious and thorny path it
was made to take for the ' way which leacleth
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 73
unto life.' A bolder reason, in the first, (it
will be said) and a reason less fluttered by
sensibility, in the second, would have made
those virtuous minds more cautious of yielding
themselves up to the full influence of ascetic
devotion. Is this, then, all that men are to
expect from the unbounded promises of light,
and the lofty claims of authority, which our
religion holds forth ? Is it thus that, when, to
obtain the protection of an infallible guide,
we have, at his command, maimed and fast
bound our reason, still a precipice yawns be-
fore our feet, from which none but that insulted
reason can save us ? Are we to call for her aid
on the brink of despair and insanity, and then
spurn our faithful, though injured friend, lest
she should unlock our hand from that of our
proud and treacherous leader ? Often have I,
from education, habit, and a misguided love of
moral excellence, been guilty of that inconsis
tency, till frequent disappointment urged me
to break my chains. Painful, indeed, and fierce
was the struggle by which I gained my liberty,
and doomed I am for ever to bear the marks of
early bondage. But no power on earth shall
make me again give up the guidance of my
reason, till I can find a rule of conduct and
belief that may be safely trusted, without
74 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
wanting reason itself to moderate and ex-
pound it.
" The first and most anxious care of my
parents was to sow abundantly the seeds of
Christian virtue in my infant breast. In this,
as in all their proceedings, they strictly fol-
lowed the steps of those whose virtue had re-
ceived the sanction of their church. Religious
instruction was conveyed to my mind with the
rudiments of speech ; and if early impressions
alone could be trusted for the future com-
plexion of a child's character, the music, and
the splendid pageantry of the cathedral of
Seville, which was to me the first scene of
mental enjoyment, might, at this day, be the
Soundest foundation of my Catholic faith.
" Divines have declared that moral responsi-
bility begins at the age of seven, and, conse-
quently, children of quick parts are not allowed
to go much longer without the advantage of
confession. My mind had scarcely attained
the first climacteric, when T had the full benefit
of absolution for such sins as my good mother,
who acted as the accusing conscience, could
discover in my naughtiness. The church, we
know, cannot be wrong ; but to say the honest
truth, all her pious contrivances have, by a
sad fatality, produced in me just the reverse
LETTRS FROM SPAIN. 75
of their aim. Though the clergyman who was
to shrive this young sinner had mild, gentle,
and affectionate manners, there is something
in auricular confession which has revolted my
feelings from the day when I first knelt before
a priest, in childish simplicity, to the last
time I have been forced to repeat that cere-
mony, as a protection to my life and liberty,
with scorn and contempt in my heart.
" Auricular confession, as a subject of theo-
logical controversy, is, probably, beneath the
notice of many ; but I could not easily allow
the name of philosopher to any one who should
look upon an inquiry into the moral influence
of that religious practice, as perfectly void of
interest. It has been observed, with great
truth, that the most philanthropic man would
feel more uneasiness in the expectation of
having his little finger cut off, than in the as-
surance that the whole empire of China was
to be swallowed up, the next day, by an earth-
quake. If ever, therefore, these lines should
meet the eye of the public in some distant
country (for ages must pass before they can
see the light in Spain), I entreat my readers to
beware of indifference about evils from which
it is their happiness to be free, and to make a
due allowance for the feelings which lead me
76 LETTERS FROM SPAIN
into a short digression. They certainly cannot
expect to be acquainted with Spain without a
sufficient knowledge of the powerful moral en-
gines which are at work in that country ; and
they will, perhaps, find that a Spanish priest
may have something to say which is new to
them on the subject of confession.
" The effects of confession upon young minds
are, generally, unfavourable to their future
peace and virtue. It was to that practice I
owed the first taste of remorse, while yet my
soul was in a state of infant purity. My fancy
had been strongly impressed with the awful
conditions of the penitential law, and the word
sacrilege had made me shudder on being told
that the act of concealing any thought or action,
the rightfulness of which I suspected, would
make me guilty of that worst of crimes, and
greatly increase my danger of everlasting tor-
ments. My parents had, in this case, done no
more than their duty according to the rules of
their church. But, though they had succeeded
in rousing my fear of hell, this was, on the
other hand, too feeble to overcome a childish
bashfulness, which made the disclosure of a
harmless trifle an effort above my strength.
" The appointed day came at last, when I was
to wait on the confessor. Now wavering, now
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 77
determined not to be guilty of sacrilege, I knelt
before the priest, leaving, however, in my list
of sins, the last place to the hideous offence
I believe it was a petty larceny committed on
a young bird. But, when I came to the dread-
ed point, shame and confusion fell upon me,
and the accusation stuck in my throat. The
imaginary guilt of this silence haunted my mind
for four years, gathering horrors at every suc-
cessive confession, and rising into an appalling
spectre, when, at the age of twelve, I was taken
to receive the sacrament. In this miserable
state I continued till, with the advance of rea-
son, I plucked, at fourteen, courage enough to
unburthen my conscience by a general confes-
sion of the past. And let it not be supposed that
mine is a singular case, arising either from mor-
bid feeling or the nature of my early education.
Few, indeed, among the many penitents I have
examined, have escaped the evils of a similar
state ; for, what a silly bashfulness does in
children, is often, in after-life, the immediate
effect of that shame by which fallen frailty
clings still to wounded virtue. The necessity
of confession, seen at a distance, is lighter than
a feather in the balance of desire ; while, at a
subsequent period, it becomes a punishment on
delicacy an instrument to blunt the moral
78 LETTERS FROM SPAIX.
sense, by multiplying the subjects of remorse,
and directing its greatest terrors against ima-
ginary crimes.
" These evils affect, nearly equally, the two
sexes ; but there are some that fall peculiarly to
the lot of the softer. Yet the remotest of all
at least, as long as the Inquisition shall exist
is the danger of direct seduction from the
priest. The formidable powers of that odious tri-
bunal have been so skilfully arrayed against the
abuse of sacramental trust, that few are found
base and blind enough to make the confessional
a direct instrument of debauch. The strictest
delicacy, however, is, I believe, inadequate
fully to oppose the demoralizing tendency of
auricular confession. Without the slightest
responsibility, and, not unfrequently, in the
conscientious discharge of what he believes his
duty, the confessor conveys to the female mind
the first foul breath which dims its virgin
purity. He, undoubtedly, has a right to inter-
rogate upon subjects which are justly deemed
awkward even for maternal confidence ; and
it would require more than common simplicity
to suppose that a discretionary power of this
nature, left in the hands of thousands men
beset with more than common temptations to
abuse it will generally be exercised with pro-
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN. 79
per caution.* But I will no longer dwell upon
this subject for the present. Men of unpreju-
diced minds will easily conjecture what I leave
unsaid; while to shew a hope of convincing
such as have made a full and irrevocable sur-
render of their judgment, were only to libel
my own.
* I must observe, that the degree of delicacy, or its oppo-
site, in a confessor besides the individual influence of virtue
and good breeding must greatly depend upon the general re-
finement of the people among whom he exercises his powers.
Such is the state of manners in England, that few or none, I will
venture to say, among its Catholic females, will probably be
aware of any evil tendency in auricular confession. I would
not equally answer for Ireland, especially among the lower
classes. Since these letters, however, would not have seen
the light without my consent, I must here, onoe for all, enter
my protest against the supposition of their being intended as
an attack on the large and respectable portion of our fellow-
subjects who profess the Roman-Catholic faith. That I firmly
believe in the abstract tendency which is here attributed to
Catholicism, I cannot, will not deny. Yet we should not
confound Catholicism in the rank luxuriance of full growth,
with the same noxious plant gradually tamed and reclaimed
under the shade of Protestantism. Thus, while I am per-
suaded that the religion of Spain, Portugal, and Naples, is
the main obstacle to the final establishment of liberty in
those countries, I positively deny the inference that Catho-
lics must necessarily, and in all possible circumstances, make
a wrong use of political power. Editor.
80 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
" From the peculiar circumstances of my
country, the training of my mental faculties was
an object of little interest with my parents.
There could be scarcely any doubt in the choice
of a line of life for me, who was the eldest of
four children. My father's fortune was im-
proving; and I might help and succeed him
with advantage to myself and two sisters. It
was, therefore, in my father's counting-house
that, under the care of an old trusty clerk, 1
learned writing and arithmetic. To be a per-
fect stranger to literature is not, even now, a
disgrace among the better class of Spaniards.
But my mother, whose pride, though greatly
subdued, was never conquered by devotion, felt
anxious that, since, from prudential motives,
I was doomed to be buried for life in a count-
ing-house, a little knowledge of Latin should
distinguish me from a mere mercantile drudge.
A private teacher was accordingly procured,
who read with me in the evening, after 1
had spent the best part of the day in making
copies of the extensive correspondence of the
house.
" I was now about ten years old, and
though, from a child, excessively fond of read-
ing, my acquaintance with books did not
extend beyond a history of the Old Testament
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 81
a collection of the Lives of the Saints men-
tioned in the Catholic Almanack, out of which
I chose the Martyrs, for modern saints were
never to my taste a little work that gave an
amusing miracle of the Virgin for every day of
the year* and, prized above all, a Spanish
translation of Fenelon's Telemachus, which I
perused till I had nearly learned it by heart.
I heard, therefore, with uncommon pleasure,
that, in acquiring a knowledge of Latin, I
should have to read stories not unlike that of
my favourite the Prince of Ithaca. Little time,
however, was allowed me for study, lest, from
my love of learning, I should conceive a dis-
like to mercantile pursuits. But my mind had
taken a decided bent. I hated the counting-
house, and loved my books. Learning and the
church were, to me, inseparable ideas ; and I
soon declared to my mother that I would be
nothing but a clergyman.
" This declaration roused the strongest pre-
judices of her mind and heart, which cold
prudence had only damped into acquiescence.
To have a son who shall daily hold in his hands
the real body of Christ, is an honour, a happi-
ness which raises the humblest Spanish woman
into a self-complacent consequence that attends
* See Note C.
G
82 LETTERS FROM S^ATN.
her through life. What, then, must be the
feelings of one who, to the strongest sense of
devotion, joins the hope of seeing the dignities
and emoluments of a rich and proud Church
bestowed upon a darling child ? The Church,
besides, by the law of celibacy, averts that
mighty terror of a fond mother a wife, who,
sooner or later, is to draw away her child from
home. A boy, therefore, who at the age of
ten or twelve, dazzled either by the gaudy
dress of an officiating priest by the import-
ance he sees others acquire, when the bishop
confers upon them the clerical tonsure or by
any other delusion of childhood, declares his
intention of taking orders, seldom, very seldom
escapes the heavy chain which the Church art-
fully hides under the tinsel of honours, and the
less flimsy, though also less attainable splen-
dour of her gold. Such a boy, among the
poor, is infallibly plunged into a convent ; if
he belongs to the gentry, he is destined to
swell the ranks of the secular clergy.
" It is true that, in all ages and countries,
the leading events of human life are insepara-
bly linked with some of the slightest incidents
of childhood. But this fact, instead of an
apology, affords the heaviest charge against
the crafty and barbarous system of laying
snares, wherein unsuspecting innocence may,
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. 83
at the very entrance of life, lose every chance
of future peace, happiness, and virtue. To
allow a girl of sixteen to bind herself, for ever,
with vows not only under the awful, though
distant guardianship of heaven, but the odious
and immediate superintendence of man ranks,
indeed, with the most hideous abuses of super-
stition. The law of celibacy, it is true, does
not bind the secular clergy till the age of
twenty-one ; but this is neither more nor less
than a mockery of common sense, in the eyes
of those who practically know how frivolous is
that latitude.* A man has, seldom, the means
to embrace, or the aptitude to exercise a pro-
fession for which he has not been trained from
early youth. It is absurd and cruel to pretend
that a young man, whose best ten or twelve
years have been spent in preparation for orders,
is at full liberty to turn his back upon the
Church when he has arrived at one-and-twenty.
He may, indeed, preserve his liberty ; but to
do so he must forget that most of his patrimony
has been laid out on his education, that he is
too old for a cadetship in the army, too poor
for commerce, and too proud for a petty trade.
* The secular clergy are not bound by vows. Celibacy is
enforced upon them by a law which makes their marriage il-
legal, and punishable by the Ecclesiastical Courts.
G 2
84 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
He must behold, unmoved, the tears of his pa-
rents ; and, casting about for subsistence in a
country where industry affords no resource,
love, the main cause of these struggles, must
content itself with bare possible lawfulness,
and bid adieu to the hope of possession.
Wherever unnatural privations make not a part
of the clerical duty, many may find them-
selves in the Church who might be better else-
where. But no great effort is wanted to make
them happy in themselves, and useful to the
community. Not so under the unfeeling ty-
ranny of our ecclesiastical law. For, where
shall we find that virtue which, having Nature
herself for its enemy, and misery for its meed,
will be able to extend its care to the welfare
of others ? As to myself, the tenour and
colour of my life were fixed the moment I ex-
pressed my childish wish of being a clergyman.
The love of knowledge, however, which be-
trayed me into the path of wretchedness, has
never forsaken its victim. It is probable that
I could not have found happiness in uneducated
ignorance. Scanty and truly hard-earned as is
the store on which my mind feeds itself, I
would not part with it for a whole life of un-
thinking pleasure : and if the necessity of cir-
cumstances left me no path to mental enjoy-
ment, except that I have so painfully trodden,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 85
I hail the moment when I entered it, and only
bewail the fatality which fixed my birth in a
Catholic country.
" The order of events would here require an
account of the system of Spanish education,
and its first effects upon my mind ; but, since
I speak of myself only to shew the state of my
country, I shall proceed with the moral in-
fluence, that, without interruption, I may pre-
sent the facts relating severally to the heart
and intellect, in as large masses as the subject
permits.
" The Jesuits, till the abolition of that or-
der, had an almost unrivalled influence over
the better classes of Spaniards. They had
nearly monopolized the instruction of the
Spanish youth, at which they toiled without
pecuniary reward ; and were equally zealous
in promoting devotional feelings both among
their pupils and the people at large. It is well
known that the most accurate division of labour
was observed in the allotment of their various
employments. Their candidates, who, by a
refinement of ecclesiastical policy, after an
unusually long probation, were bound by vows
which, depriving them of liberty, yet left a
discretionary power of ejection in the order,
were incessantly watched by the penetrating
eye of the master of novices; a minute de-
86 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
scription of their character and peculiar turn
was forwarded to the superiors, and at the end
of the noviciate, they were employed to the
advantage of the community, without ever
thwarting the natural bent of the individual,
or diverting his natural powers by a multipli-
city of employments. Wherever, as in France
and Italy, literature was in high estimation,
the Jesuits spared no trouble to raise among
themselves men of eminence in that department.
In Spain, their chief aim was to provide their
houses with popular preachers, and zealous,
yet prudent and gentle, confessors. Pascal,
and the Jansenist party, of which he was the
organ, accused them of systematic laxity in
their moral doctrines : but the charge, I believe,
though plausible in theory, was perfectly
groundless in practice. If, indeed, ascetic vir-
tue could ever be divested of its connatural evil
tendency if a system of moral perfection that
has for its basis, however disavowed and dis-
guised, the Manichaean doctrine of the two
principles, could be applied with any partial
advantage as a rule of conduct, it was so in
the hands of the Jesuits. The strict, unbend-
ing maxims of the Jansenists, by urging persons
of all characters and tempers on to an imagi-
ginary goal of perfection, bring quickly their
whole system to the decision of experience.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 87
They are like those enthusiasts who, venturing
upon the practice of some Gospel sayings, in
the literal sense, have made the absurdity of
that interpretation as clear as noon-day light.
A greater knowledge of mankind made the
Jesuits more cautious in the culture of devo-
tional feelings. They well knew that but few
can prudently engage in open hostility with
what in ascetic language is called the world.
They now and then trained up a sturdy cham-
pion, who, like their founder Loyola, might
provoke the enemy to single combat with ho-
nour to his leaders ; but the crowd of mystic
combatants were made to stand upon a kind
of jealous truce, which, in spite of all care,
often produced some jovial meetings of the
advanced parties on both sides. The good fa-
thers came forward, rebuked their soldiers
back into the camp, and filled up the place of
deserters by their indefatigable industry in en-
gaging recruits.
" The influence of the Jesuits on Spanish
morals, from every thing I have learned, was
undoubtedly favourable. Their kindness at-
tracted the youth from the schools to their
company : and, though this intimacy was often
employed in making proselytes to the order, it
also contributed to the preservation of virtue
in that slippery age, both by the ties of affec-
88 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
tion, and the gentle check of example. Their
churches were crowded every Sunday with
regular attendants who came to confess and
receive the sacrament. The practice of choosing
a certain priest, not only to be the occasional
confessor, but director of the conscience, was
greatly encouraged by the Jesuits. The ulti-
mate effects of this surrender of the judgment
are, indeed, dangerous and degrading ; but, in
a country where the darkest superstition is
constantly impelling the mind into the opposite
extremes of religious melancholy and profli-
gacy, weak persons are sometimes preserved
from either by the friendly assistance of a pru-
dent director; and the Jesuits were generally
well qualified for that office. Their conduct was
correct, and their manners refined. They kept
up a dignified intercourse with the middling and
higher classes, and were always ready to help
and instruct the poor, without descending to
their level. Since the expulsion of the Jesuits,
the better classes, for the most part, avoid the
company of monks and friars, except in an
official capacity ; while the lower ranks, from
which these professional saints are generally
taken, and where they re-appear, raised, in-
deed, into comparative importance, but grown
bolder in grossness and vice, suffer more from
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 89
their influence than they would by being left
without any religious ministers.*
" Since the abolition of the Jesuits, their
devotional system has been kept up, though
upon a much narrower scale, by the congrega-
tions of Saint Philip Neri (I'Oratoire, in France),
an Italian of the sixteenth century, who estab-
lished voluntary associations of secular clergy-
men, living together under an easy rule, but
without monastic vows, in order to devote
themselves to the support of piety. The num-
ber, however, of these associated priests is so
small, that, notwithstanding their zeal and
their studied imitation of the Jesuits, they are
but a faint shadow of that surprising institution.
Yet these priests alone have inherited the skill
of Loyola's followers in the management of the
ascetic contrivance, which, invented by that
ardent fanatic, is still called, from his Christian
name, Exercises of Saint Ignatius. As it would
be impossible to sketch the history of my mind
and heart without noticing the influence of that
powerful engine, I cannot omit a description
of the establishment kept by the Philippians at
Seville the most complete of its kind that
probably has ever existed.
* See Note D.
90 LETTERS FROM SPA IX.
" The Exercises of Saint Ignatius are a series
of meditations on various religious subjects, so
artificially disposed, that the mind being at
first thrown into distressing horror, may be
gradually raised to hope, and finally soothed,
not into a certainty of Divine favour, but a
timid consciousness of pardon. Ten consecu-
tive days are passed in perfect abstraction from
all worldly pursuits. The persons who submit
to this spiritual discipline, leave their homes
for rooms allotted to them in the religious
house where the Exercises are to be per-
formed, and yield themselves up to the direc-
tion of the president. The priest, who for
nearly thirty years has been acting in that ca-
pacity at Seville, enjoys such influence over
the wealthy part of the town, that, not satis-
fied with the temporary accommodation which
his convent afforded to the pious guests, he
can now lodge the Exercitants in a separate
building, with a chapel annexed, and every
requisite for complete abstraction, during the
days of their retirement. Six or eight times in
the year the Exercises are performed by diffe-
rent sets of fifty persons each. The utmost pre-
cision and regularity are observed in the distri-
bution of their time. Roused by a large bell
at five in the morning, they immediately as-
semble in the chapel to begin the meditation
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 91
appointed for the day. At their meals they
observe a deep silence ; and no intercourse,
even among each other, is permitted, except
during one hour in the evening. The settled
gloom of the house, the almost incessant
reading and meditation upon subjects which,
from their vagueness and infinitude, harass and
bewilder the fancy, and that powerful sympa-
thetic influence, which affects assemblies where
all are intent on the same object and bent on
similar feelings, render this house a modern
cave of Trophonius, within whose dark cells
cheerfulness is often extinguished for ever.
" Unskilful, indeed, must be the hand that,
possessed of this engine, can fail to subdue the
stoutest mind in which there lurks a particle of
superstitious fear. But Father Vega is one of
those men who are born to command a large
portion of their fellow-creatures, either by the
usual means, or some contrivance of their own.
The expulsion of the Jesuits during his pro-
bationship in that order, denied him the ample
field on which his early views had been fixed.
After a course of theological studies at the
University, he became a member of the Ora-
torio, and soon attracted the notice of the whole
town by his preaching. His active and bold
mind combines qualities seldom found in the
same individual. Clear-headed, resolute, and
92 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ambitious, the superstitious feelings which
melt him into tears whenever he performs the
Mass, have not in the least impaired the
mental daringness he originally owes to nature.
Though seldom mixing in society, he is a per-
fect man of the world. Far from compromising
his lofty claims to respect, he flatters the proud-
est nobles of his spiritual train by well-timed
bursts of affected rudeness, which, being a
mere display of spiritual authority, perfectly
consistent with a full acknowledgment of their
worldly rank and dignity, give them, in the
eyes of the more humble bystanders, the addi-
tional merit of Christian condescension. As an
instance of this, I recollect his ordering the Mar-
quis del P , one of the haughtiest men in
this town, to fetch up-stairs from the chapel, a
heavy gold frame set with jewels, in which the
Host is exhibited, for the inspection of the com-
pany during the hour of recreation allowed in
the Exercises. No man ever shewed such assu-
rance and consciousness of Heaven's delegated
authority as Father Vega, in the Confessional.
He reads the heart of his penitent impresses
the mind with the uselessness of disguise, and
relieves shame by a strong feeling that he has
anticipated disclosure. In preaching, his ve-
hemence rivets the mind of the hearers ; a
wild luxuriance of style engages them with
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 93
perpetual variety ; expectation is kept alive by
the remembered flashes of his wit ; while the
homely, and even coarse, expressions he allows
himself, when he feels the whole audience
already in his power, give him that air of
superiority which seems to set no bounds to
the freedom of manner.
" It is, however, in his private chapel that
Father Vega has prepared the grand scene of
his triumphs over the hearts of his audience.
Twice every day, during the Exercises, he
kneels for the space of one hour, surrounded
by his congregation. Daylight is excluded,
and a candle is so disposed in a shade that,
without breaking the gloom of the chapel, it
shines on a full-length sculpture of Christ
nailed to the Cross, who, with a countenance
where exquisite suffering is blended with the
most lovely patience, seems to be on the point
of moving his lips to say " Father, forgive
them !" The mind is at first allowed to dwell,
in the deepest silence, on the images and sen-
timents with which previous reading has furnish-
ed it, till the Director, warmed with meditation,
breaks forth in an impressive voice, not, how-
ever, addressing himself to his hearers, from
whom he appears completely abstracted, but
pouring out his heart in the presence of the
Deity. Silence ensues after a few sentences,
94 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
and not many minutes elapse without a fresh
ejaculation. But the fire gradually kindles
into a flame. The addresses grow longer and
more impassioned; his voice, choked with sobs
and tears, struggles painfully for utterance,
till the stoutest hearts are forced to yield to the
impression, and the chapel resounds with sighs
and groans.
" I cannot but shudder at the recollection
that my mind was made to undergo such an
ordeal at the age of sixteen ; for it is a custom
of the diocese of Seville to prepare the candi-
dates for orders by the Exercises of Saint Igna-
tius ; and even those who are to be incorporated
with the clergy by the ceremony of the First
Tonsure, are not easily spared this trial. I was
grown up a timid, docile, yet ardent boy. My
soul, as I have already mentioned, had been
early made to taste the bitterness of remorse,
and I now eagerly embraced the offer of those
expiatory rites which, as I fondly thought, were
to restore lost innocence, and keep me for ever
in the straight path of virtue. The shock,
however, which my spirits felt might have un-
nerved me for life, and reduced my faculties to
a state little short of imbecility, had I not re-
ceived from nature, probably as a compensa-
tion for a too soft and yielding heart, an under-
standing which was born a rebel. Yet, I can-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 95
not tell whether it was ray heart or my head,
that, in spite of a frighted fancy, endued me
with resolution to baffle the blind zeal of my
confessor, when, finding, during these Exer-
cises, that I knew the existence of a prohibited
book in the possession of a student of divinity,
who, out of mere good-nature, assisted my
early studies, he commanded me to accuse my
friend before the Inquisition. Often have I
been betrayed into a wrong course of thinking,
by a desire to assimilate myself to those I
loved, and thus enjoy that interchange of sen-
timent which forms the luxury of friendship.
But even the chains of love, the strongest I
know within the range of nature, were burst
the moment I conceived that error had bound
them. This, however, brings me to the history
of my mind.
" An innate love of truth, which shewed
itself on the first developement of my reason,
and a consequent perseverance in the pursuit
of it to the extent of my, knowledge, that has
attended me through life, saved me from sink-
ing into the dregs of Aristotelic philosophy,
which, though discountenanced by the Spa-
nish government, are still collected in a few
filthy pools, fed by the constant exertions of
the Dominicans. Unfortunately for me, these
monks have a richly endowed college at Se-
96 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ville, where they give lectures on Aristotle and
Thomas Aquinas, to a few young men whom
they recruit at the expense of flattering their
parents. My father's confessor was a Domini-
can, and he marked me for a divine of his own
school. My mother, whose heart was with
the Jesuits, would fain have sent me to the
University, where the last remnant of their
pupils still held the principal chairs. But she
was informed by the wily monk, that heresy
had begun to creep among the new professors
of philosophy heresy of such a horrible ten-
dency, that it nearly amounted to polythe-
ism. The evidence on which this charge was
grounded, seemed, indeed, irresistible ; for you
had only to open the second volume of one
Altieri, a Neapolitan friar, whose Elements of
Philosophy are still used as a class-book at the
University of Seville, and you would find, in the
first pages, that he makes space uncreated, infi-
nite, and imperishable. From such premises
the consequence was evident, the new philo-
sophers were clearly setting up a rival deity.
" With the usual preparation of a little Latin,
but in absolute want of all elementary instruc-
tion, I was sent to begin a course of logic at
the Dominican college. My desire of learning
was great indeed ; but the Categories ad mentem
Divl Thamcz Aquinatis, in a large quarto vo-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 97
lume, were unsavoury food for my mind, and,
after a few vain efforts to conquer my aversion,
I ended in never opening the dismal book. Yet
untrained as I was to reading, books were
necessary to my happiness. In any other coun-
try I should have met with a variety of works,
which, furnishing my mind with facts and ob-
servations, might have led me into some useful
or agreeable pursuit. But in Spain, the chances
of lighting on a good book are so few, that 1 must
reckon my acquaintance with one that could
open my mind among the fortunate events of
my -life. A near relation of mine, a lady, whose
education had been superior to that commonly
bestowed on Spanish females, possessed a
small collection of Spanish and French books.
Among these were the works of Don Fray Be-
nito Feyjoo, a Benedictine monk, who, rising
above the intellectual level of his country,
about the beginning of the present (18th) cen-
tury, had the boldness to attack every estab-
lished error which was not under the imme-
diate patronage of religion. His mind was en-
dowed with extraordinary clearness and acute-
ness ; and having, by an extensive reading of
Latin and French works, acquired a great mass
of information on physical and historical sub-
jects, he displayed it. with peculiar felicity of
H
98 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
expression, in a long series of discourses and
letters, forming a work of fourteen large closely
printed volumes.*
" It was not without difficulty that I obtain-
ed leave to try whether my mind, which had
hitherto lain a perfect waste, was strong enough
to understand and relish Feyjoo. But it came
like the spring showers upon a thirsty soil. A
man's opinion of the first work he read when a
boy, cannot safely be trusted ; but, to judge
from the avidity with which at the age of fif-
teen I devoured fourteen volumes on miscella-
neous subjects, and the surprising impulse they
gave to my yet unfolded faculties, Feyjoo must
be a writer who deserves more notice than he
has ever obtained from his countrymen. If I
can trust my recollection, he had deeply im-
bibed the spirit of Lord Bacon's works, toge-
ther with his utter contempt of the absurd phi-
losophy which has been universally taught in
Spain till the last third of the eighteenth cen-
tury. From Bayle, Feyjoo had learned caution
in weighing historical evidence, and an habitual
suspicion of the numberless opinions which, in
countries unpurified by the wholesome gales of
free contending thought, are allowed to range
* Feyjoo died in 1765. Several of his Essays were pub-
lished in English by John Brett, Esq. 1 780.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 99
unmolested, for ages, with the same claim to
the rights of prescription as frogs and insects
have to their stagnant pools. In a pleasing and
popular style, Feyjoo acquainted his country-
men with whatever discoveries in experimental
philosophy had been made by Boyle at that
time. He declared open war against quackery
of all kinds. Miracles and visions which had
not received the sanction of the Church of
Rome did not escape the scrutinizing eye of
the bold Benedictine. Such, in fact, was the
alarm produced by his works on the all-believ-
ing race for whom he wrote, that nothing but
the patronage of Ferdinand VI. prevented his
being silenced with the ultima ratio of Spanish
divines the Inquisition.
" Had the power of Aladdin's lamp placed
me within the richest subterraneous palace de-
scribed in the Arabian Nights, it could not have
produced the raptures I experienced from the
intellectual treasure of which I now imagined
myself the master. Physical strength developes
itself so gradually, that few, I am inclined to
think, derive pleasure from a sudden start of
bodily vigour. But my mind, like a young
bird in the nest, had lived unconscious of its
wings, till this unexpected leader had, by his
boldness, allured it into flight. From a state
of mere animal life, I found myself at once pos-
H 2
100 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
sessed of the faculty of thinking; and I can
scarcely conceive, that the soul, emerging after
death into a higher rank of existence, shall feel
and try its new powers with a keener delight.
My knowledge, it is true, was confined to a
few physical and historical facts ; but I had,
all at once, learned to reason, to argue, to
doubt. To the surprise and alarm of my good
relatives, I had been changed, within a few
weeks, into a sceptic who, without questioning
religious subjects, would not allow any one of
their settled notions to pass for its current value.
My mother, with her usual penetration, per-
ceived the new tendency of my mind, and
thanked Heaven, in my presence, that Spain
was my native country ; ' else,' she said, ' he
would soon quit the pale of the church.'
" The main advantage, however, which I owed
to my new powers, was a speedy emancipation
from the Aristotelic school of the Dominicans.
I had, sometimes, dipped into the second vo-
lume of their Elements of Philosophy, and had
found, to my utter dismay, that they denied
the existence of a vacuum one of my then fa-
vourite doctrines and attributed the ascent of
liquids by suction, to the horror of nature at
being wounded and torn. Now, it so happened
that Feyjoo had given me the clearest notions
on the theory of the sucking-pump, and the
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 101
relative gravity of air and water. Nothing,
therefore, could equal my contempt of those
monks, who could still contend for the old sys-
tem of sympathies and antipathies. A repri-
mand from the reverend Professor of Logic, for
my utter inattention to his lectures, sprung, at
length, the mine which, charged with the first
scraps of learning, and brimful of boyish con-
ceit, had long been ready to explode.
" Had the friar remonstrated with me in
private, my habitual timidity would have seal-
ed up my lips. But he rated me before the
whole class, and that fired up my indignation.
Rising from my seat with a courage so new to
me that it seemed to be inspired, I boldly de-
clared my determination not to burden and
pervert my mind with the absurdities that
were taught in their schools. Being asked, with
a sarcastic smile, which were the doctrines
that had thus incurred my disapprobation, I
visibly surprised the Professor no bright ge-
nius himself with the theory of the sucking-
pump, and actually nonplused him on the
mighty question of vacuum. To be thus
bearded by a stripling, was more than his
professional humility could bear. He bade
me thank my family for not being that mo-
ment turned out of the lecture-room ; assuring
me, however, that my father should be ac-
102 LETTERS FROM SPAIX.
quainted with my impertinence in the course
of that day. Yet I must do justice to his
good-nature and moderation in checking the
students, who wished to serve me, like Sancho,
with a blanketing.
" Before the threatened message could reach
my father, I had, with great rhetorical skill, en-
gaged maternal pride and fear in my favour. In
what colours the friar may have painted my
impudence, I neither learned nor cared ; for my
mother, whose dislike of the Dominicans, as the
enemies of the Jesuits, had been roused by the
public reprimand of the Professor, took the
whole matter into her hands, and, before the
end of the week, I heard, with raptures, that
my name was to be entered at the University.
" Having thus luckily obtained the object
of my wishes, 1 soon retrieved my character
for industry, and received the public thanks of
my new Professor. What might have been my
progress under a better system than that of a
Spanish university, vanity will probably not
allow me to judge with fairness. I will, there-
fore, content myself with laying a sketch of that
system before the reader.
" The Spanish universities had continued
in a state worthy of the thirteenth century, till
the year 1770, when the Marquis of Roda, a
favourite minister of Charles HI., gave them
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 103
an amended plan of studies, which though far
below the level of knowledge over the rest of
Europe, seems at least to recognise the pro-
gress of the human mind since the revival of
letters. The present plan forbids the study
of the Aristotelic philosophy, and attempts the
introduction of the inductive system of Bacon;
but is shamefully deficient in the department
of literature. Three years successive attend-
ance in the schools of logic, natural philosophy,
and metaphysics, is the only requisite for a
master's degree ; and, though the examinations
are both long and severe, few of the Spanish
universities have yet altered the old statute
which obliges the candidates to draw their
theses from Aristotle's logics and physics, and
to deliver a long discourse upon one chapter of
each ; thus leaving their daily lectures per-
fectly at variance with the final examinations.
Besides these preparatory schools, every uni-
versity has three or four professors of divinity,
as many of civil and canon law, and seldom
less of medicine. The students are not re-
quired to live in colleges. There are, however,
establishments of this kind for under-graduates ;
but being, for the most part, intended for a
limited number of poor boys, they make no
part of the Academic system. Yet some of
these colleges have, by a strange combination
104 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
of circumstances, risen to such a height of
splendour and influence, that I must digress
into a short sketch of their history.
" The original division of Spanish colleges
into minor and major, arose from the branches
of learning for which they were intended.
Grammar and rhetoric alone were taught in the
first ; divinity, law, and medicine, in the last.
Most of the Colegios Mayores were, by papal
bulls and royal decrees, erected into universi-
ties, where, besides the fellows, students might
repair daily to heap the public lectures, and
finally take their degrees. Thus the university
of this town (Seville) was, till lately, attached
to this college, the rector or head of which,
elected annually by the fellows, was, by vir-
tue of his office, rector of the university.
This, and the great colleges of Castille, en-
joying similar privileges, but far exceeding
ours in wealth and influence, formed the lite-
rary aristocracy of Spain. Though the sta-
tutes gave no exclusion to plebeians, the cir-
cumstances required in the candidates for fel-
lowships, together with the esprit de corps which
actuated the electors, confined such places to
the noblesse. Anxious to increase their influence,
none of the five great colleges of Spain could
ever be induced to elect any one who was not
connected with some of the best families. This,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 105
however, was but a prudential step, to avoid
the public disgrace to which the pruebas, or
interrogatories relative to blood, might otherwise
expose the candidates. One of the fellows
was, and is still at Seville, according to the
statutes, to repair to the birth-place of the
parents of the elected member, as well as to
those of his two grandfathers and grand-
mothers except when any of them is a
foreigner, a circumstance which prevents the
journey, though not the inquiry in order to
examine upon oath, from fifteen to thirty wit-
nesses at each place, who either from their own
knowledge, or the current report of the town,
must swear that the ancestor in question never
was a menial servant, a shopkeeper or petty
tradesman, a mechanic, had neither himself,
nor any of his relations, been punished by the
Inquisition, nor was descended from Jews,
Moors, Africans, Indians, or Guanchos, i. e. the
aborigines of the Canary Islands. It is evident
that none but the hereditary gentry could ex-
pose themselves to this ordeal : and as the
pride of the reporter, together with the charac-
ter of his college, were highly interested in the
purity of blood of every member, no room was
left for the evasions commonly resorted to
for the admission of knights in the military
orders.
106 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
" Thus, in the course of years, the six great
colleges* could command the influence of the
first Spanish families all over the kingdom. It
was, besides, a point of honour among such as
had obtained a fellowship, never to desert the
interest of their college : and, as every ca-
thedral in Spain has three canonries, which
must be obtained by a literary competition, of
which the canons themselves are the judges,
wherever a Colegidl Mayor had obtained a stall,
he was able to secure a strong party to any one
of his college who should offer himself as a
champion at those literary jousts. The chap-
ters, on the other hand, were generally inclined
to strengthen their own importance by the ac-
cession of people of rank, leaving poor and un-
known scholars to grovel in their native ob-
scurity. No place of honour in the church
and law was left unoccupied by the collegians ;
and even the distribution which those power-
ful bodies made of their members as if not
only all the best offices and situations, but even
* There exist in Spain some other colleges which are also
called mayores ; but none, except four at Salamanca, one at
Valladolid, and one at Seville, were reckoned as a part of the
literary aristocracy of the country. None but these had the
privilege of referring all their interests and concerns to a
committee of the supreme council of the nation, expressly
named for that purpose.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 107
a choice of them, were in their hands was no
secret to the country at large. Fellows in or-
ders, who possessed abilities, were kept in re-
serve for the literary competitions. Such as
could not appear to advantage at those public
trials were, by means of court favour, provided
for with stalls in the wealthiest cathedrals. The
absolutely dull and ignorant were made inqui-
sitors, who, passing judgment in their secret
halls, could not disgrace the college by their
blunders. Medicine not being in honour, there
were no fellows of that profession. The lay
members of the major colleges belonged ex-
clusively to the law, but they would never quit
their fellowships except for a place among the
judges. Even in the present low ebb of col-
legiate influence, the College of Seville would
disown any of the fellows who should act as a
mere advocate.
" While the colleges were still at the height
of their power, a young lawyer offered himself
for one of the fellowships at Salamanca, and
was disdainfully rejected for want of sufficient
proofs of noblesse. By an extraordinary com-
bination of circumstances, the offended candi-
date rose to be prime minister of state, under
Charles III. with the title of Marquis of Roda.
The extraordinary success he had met with in
public life, could not, however, heal the wound
108 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
his pride had received in his youth. But, be-
sides the inducement of his private feelings, he
seems to have been an enemy to all influence
which was not exerted by the king and his
ministers. Two powerful bodies, the Jesuits
and the colleges, engrossed so forcibly, and, I
may say, painfully, his attention, that it was
wittily observed, ' that the spectacles he wore
had painted glasses, one representing a Jesuit,
the other a collegian' he was so intent against
both. The destruction to which he had doomed
them was, at length, accomplished by his
means. His main triumph was, indeed, over
the Jesuits : yet his success against the col-
leges, though certainly less splendid, was the
more gratifying to his personal feelings. The
method he employed in the downfall of the last
is not unworthy of notice, both for its perfect
simplicity, and the light it throws upon the
state and character of the country. Having
the whole patronage of the Crown in his hands,
he placed, within a short time, all the existing
members of the Salamanca colleges, in the
most desirable situations both of the church
and law, filling their vacancies with young men
of no family. Thus the bond of collegiate in-
fluence was suddenly snapped asunder : the
old members disowned their successors ; and
such as a few days before looked upon a fellow-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 109
ship as an object of ambition, would have felt
mortified at the sight of a relative wearing the
gown of a reformed college. The Colegio Mayor
of Seville was attacked by other means. With-
out enforcing the admission of the unprivileged
classes, the minister, by an arbitrary order,
deprived it of its right to confer degrees. The
convocation of doctors and masters was em-
powered to elect their own rector, and name
professors for the schools, which were subse-
quently opened to the public in one of the
deserted houses that had belonged to the Je-
suits. Such is the history of the university
where I received my education.
" Slight, however, are the advantages which
a young mind can derive from academical stu-
dies in Spain. To expect a rational system of
education where the Inquisition is constantly
on the watch to keep the human mind within
the boundaries which the Church of Rome,
with her host of divines, has set to its progress,
would shew a perfect ignorance of the charac-
ter of our religion. Thanks to the league be-
tween our church and state, the Catholic di-
vines have nearly succeeded in keeping down
knowledge to their own level. Even such
branches of science as seem least connected
with religion, cannot escape the theological
rod ; and the spirit which made Galileo recant
110 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
upon his knees his discoveries in astronomy,
still compels our professors to teach the Coper-
nican system as an hypothesis. The truth is
that, with Catholic divines, no one pursuit of
the human mind is independent of religion.
Since the first appearance of Christianity, its
doctrines have ever been blended with the
philosophical views of their teachers. The
scriptures themselves, invaluable as they are in
forming the moral character, frequently touch,
by incident, upon subjects unconnected with
their main object, and treat of nature and civil
society according to the notions of a rude
people in a very primitive period. Hence the
encroachments of divines upon every branch of
human knowledge, which are still supported
by the hand of power in a great part of Europe,
but in none so outrageously as in Spain. Astro-
nomy must ask the inquisitors' leave to see
with her own eyes. Geography was long com-
pelled to shrink before them. Divines were
made the judges of Columbus's plans of disco-
very, as well as to allot a species to the Ame-
ricans. A spectre monk haunts the Geologist
in the lowest cavities of the earth ; and one of
flesh and blood watches the steps of the phi-
losopher on its surface. Anatomy is suspected,
and watched closely, whenever she takes up
the scalpel ; and Medicine had many a pang to
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. Ill
endure while endeavouring to expunge the use
of bark and inoculation from the catalogue of
mortal sins. You must not only believe what
the Inquisition believes, but yield implicit faith
to the theories and explanations of her divines.
To acknowledge, on the authority of Revela-
tion, that mankind will rise from their graves,
is not sufficient to protect the unfortunate Me-
taphysician, who should deny that man is a
compound of two substances, one of which is
naturally immortal. It was long a great ob-
stacle to the rejection of the Aristotelic philo-
sophy, that the substantial forms of the schools
were found an exceedingly convenient veil for
the invisible work of transubstantiation ; for our
good divines shrewdly suspected, that if colour,
taste, smell, and all the other properties of bodies,
were allowed to be mere accidents the bare im-
pressions on our sense of one variously modified
substance it might be plausibly urged that, in
the consecrated Host, the body of Christ had
been converted into bread, not the bread into that
body. But it would be endless and tedious to
trace all the links, of which the Inquisition has
formed the chain that binds and weighs down
the human mind among us. Acquiescence in
the voluminous and multifarious creed of the
Roman church is by no means sufficient for
safety. A man who closes his work with the
112 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
O. S. C. S. R. E. (Omnia sub correctione Sancttf
Romance Ecclesice) may yet rue the moment
when he took pen in hand. Heterodoxy may
be easily avoided in writing ; but who can be
sure that none of his periods smacks of heresy
(sapiens hseresim) none of his sentences are of
that uncouth species which is apt to grate pious
ears (piarum aurium offensivas) ? Who then
will venture upon the path of knowledge, where
it leads straight to the Inquisition ? *
" Yet such is the energy of the human mind,
when once acquainted with its own powers,
that the best organized system of intellectual
tyranny, though so far successful as to prevent
Spanish talent from bringing any fruit to ma-
turity, fails most completely of checking its
activity. Could I but accurately draw the
picture of an ingenuous young mind struggling
with the obstacles which Spanish education
opposes to improvement the alarm at the
springing suspicions of being purposely be-
* Ils'est etabli dans Madrid un systeme de liberte sur
la vente des productions, qui s'etend meme a celles de la
presse ; et que, pourvu que je ne parle en mes ecrits ni de
1'autorite, ni du culte, ni de la politique, ni de la morale, ni
des gens en place, ni des corps en credit, ni de 1'Opera, ni des
autres spectacles, ni de personne qui tienne a quelque chose,
je puis tout imprimer librement, sous 1'inspection de deux ou
trois censeurs. Marriage de Figaro, Act 5, Sc. 3.
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. 113
trayed into error the superstitious fears that
check its first longings after liberty the ho-
nest and ingenious casuistry by which it en-
courages itself to leave the prescribed path
the maiden joy and fear of the first transgres-
sion the rapidly-growing love of newly dis-
covered truth, and consequent hatred of its
tyrants the final despair and wild phrenzy
that possess it on finding its doom inevitable,
on seeing, with an appalling evidence, that its
best exertions are lost, that ignorance, bigotry,
and superstition claim and can enforce its ho-
mage no plot of romance would be read with
more interest by such as are not indifferent to
the noblest concerns of mankind. As I cannot,
however, present an animated picture, I shall
proceed with a statement of facts.
" An imperfect knowledge of logic and na-
tural philosophy was all I acquired at the uni-
versity before I began the study of divinity ;
and, like most of my countrymen, I should
have completed my studies without so much
as suspecting the existence of elegant litera-
ture, had it not been for my acquaintance
with an excellent young man, much my senior
at the university, who, by his own unassisted
industry, had made some progress in the study
and imitation of the classics. To him I owed
my first acquaintance with Spanish poetry,
114 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
and my earliest attempts at composition in my
own language. My good fortune led me, but
a short time after, to a member of the Colcgio
Mayor of this town another self-improved
man, whose extraordinary talents having ena-
bled him, at the age of nineteen, to cast a
gleam of good taste over the system of his own
university of Osuna, he was, subsequently, at
Seville, the centre of a small club of students,
who, through the influence of his genius, rose
so far above the mass of their academical fel-
lows, as to shew, by the fair, though scanty,
produce of their minds, the rich promise
which the state of their country had blasted.
" In all the Spanish universities with which
1 am acquainted, I have observed a similar
struggle between enterprising genius and con-
stituted ignorance. Valencia, Granada, the
college of San Fulgencio at Murcia ; Sala-
manca, above all, and Seville, the least among
them, have exhibited symptoms of rebellion,
arising from the undaunted ardour of some
young members, who, having opened for them-
selves a path to knowledge, would, at some
time or other, make a desperate effort to allure
the rising generation to follow their steps. The
boldest champions in this hopeless contest have
generally started among the professors of moral
philosophy. Government had confined them
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 115
to the puny Elements of Jacquier and Heinne-
cius ; but a mind once set on " the proper
study of mankind," must be weak indeed not
to extend its views beyond the limits prescribed
by the ignorance of a despot or his ministers.
To the alarm and consternation of the white-
tasselled heads*, and the thrilling hopes of their
secret enemies, connected series of theses
have of late appeared among us, which, in
spite of the studied caution of their language,
betrayed both their origin and tendency. Ge-
nuine offspring of the French school, the very
turn of their phrases gave strong indications of
a style formed in defiance of the Holy Inqui-
sition. But these fits of restless impatience
have only secured the yoke they were intended
to loosen. I have visited Salamanca after the
great defeat of the philosophical party, the
strongest that ever was formed in Spain. A
man of first-rate literary character among us,
whom merit and court favour had raised to one
of the chief seats in the judicature of the
country, but whom court caprice had, about
this time, sent to rusticate at Salamanca, was
* A coloured tassel on the cap is, in Spain, the peculiar
distinction of doctors and masters. White, denotes divinity :
green, canon law : crimson, civil law : yellow, medicine ;
and blue, arts, i. e. philosophy. These caps are worn only
on public occasions at the universities.
i 2
116 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
doing me the honours of the place, when, ap-
proaching the convocation-hall of the univer-
sity, we perceived the members of the faculty
of divinity strolling about previous to a meet-
ing of their body. A runaway slave, still
bearing the marks of the lash on his return,
could not have shrunk more instinctively at
the sight of the planters meeting at the coun-
cil-room, than my friend did at the view of
the cowls, ' white, black, and grey,' which
partially hid the sleek faces of bis offended
masters. He had, it is true, been lucky
enough to escape the imprisonment and subse-
quent penance in a monastery, which was the
sad lot of the chief of his routed party ; but he
himself was still suspected and watched close-
ly. The rest of his friends, the flower of the
university, had been kept for three or four
years, in constant fear for their personal liber-
ty, being often called before the secret tribu-
nal to answer the most captious interrogatories
about themselves and their friends, but never
put in possession of every count of the indict-
ment. After this and a few such examples,
we have, at last, perceived the folly of en-
gaging in a desperate game, where no possible
combination can, for the present, give the dis-
senting party a single chance of success.
" French philosophy had not found its way
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 117
to the university of Seville, at the time when
I was studying divinity. Even the knowledge
of the French language was a rare acquirement
both among the professors and their hearers.
I have mentioned at the beginning of this
sketch that one of the few books which de-
lighted my childhood was a Spanish translation
of Telemachus. A fortunate incident had now
thrown into my hands the original of my old
favourite, and I attempted to understand a
few lines by comparing them with the version.
My success exceeded my hopes. Without
either grammar or dictionary I could, in a few
weeks read on, guessing a great deal, it is true,
but visibly improving my knowledge of the
idiom by comparing the force of unknown
words in different passages. A single volume
of Racine's tragedies was my next French book.
Imperfectly as I must have understood that
tender and elegant poet, his plays gave me so
much pleasure, that by repeated readings I
found myself able to understand French poetry.
It was about this time that I made my invalua-
ble acquaintance at our college. My friend had
learned both French and Italian in a similar
manner with myself. He was acquainted with
one of the judges of our Audiencia, or pro-
vincial court of judicature, a man of great li-
terary celebrity, who possessed a very good
118 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
library, from whence I was indulged with
French books, as well as Italian; for by a little
ingenuity and the analogy of ray own language,
I had also enabled myself to read the lan-
guage of Petrarch.
" Hitherto I had never had courage enough
to take a forbidden book in my hands. The
excommunication impending over me by the
words ipso facto was indeed too terrific an ob-
ject for my inexperienced mind. Delighted
with the taste for poetry and eloquence which
I had acquired, I had never brooded over any
religious doubts or rather, sincerely adhering
to the Roman Catholic law, which makes the
examination of such doubts as great a crime as
the denial of the article of belief they affect, I
had always shrunk with terror from every
heterodox suggestion. But my now intimate
friend and guide had made canon law his pro-
fession. Ecclesiastical history, in which he
was deeply versed, had, without weakening his
Catholic principles, made him a pupil of that
school of canonists who, both in Germany and
Italy, having exposed the forgeries by means
of which papal power had made itself para-
mount to every human authority, were but too
visibly disposed to a separation from Rome.
My friend denied the existence of any power
in the Church to inflict excommunication,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 119
without a declaratory sentence in consequence
of the trial of the offender. Upon the strength
of this doctrine, he made me read the ' Dis-
courses on Ecclesiastical History,' by the
Abbe Fleury a work teeming with invective
against monks and friars, doubts on modern
miracles, and strictures on the virtues of mo-
dern saints. Eve's heart, I confess, when
her rash hand in evil hour
Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she ate,
could not have beaten more convulsively than
mine, as I opened the forbidden book. Vague
fears and doubts haunted my conscience for
many days. But my friend, besides being a
sound Catholic, was a devout man. He had
lately taken priest's orders, and was now not
only my literary but my spiritual director. His
abilities and his affection to me had obtained a
most perfect command over my mind, and it
was not long before I could match him in mental
boldness, on points unconnected with articles
of faith.
' This was, indeed, the happiest period of
my life. The greatest part of my time, with
the exception of that required for my daily
attendance at the dull lectures of the divinity
professors, was devoted to the French critics
Andre, Le Bossu, Batteux, Rollin, La Harpe,
120 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
and many others of less note. The habit of
analyzing language and ideas, which I acquired
in the perusal of such works, soon led me to
some of the French metaphysicians, especially
Condillac.
" It was the favourite amusement of myself
and those constant associates of my youth that
formed the knot of friends, of whom the often
mentioned Colegial Mayor was the centre and
guide, to examine all our feelings, in order to
resolve them into some general law, and trace
them to their simple elements. This habit of
analysis and generalization extended itself to
the customs and habits of the country, and the
daily incidents of life, till in the course of time
it produced in me the deceitful, though not
uncommon notion, that all knowledge is the
result of developed principles, and gave me a
distaste for every book that was not cast into
a regular theory.
" While I was thus amused and deceived by
the activity of my mind, without endeavouring
to give it the weight and steadiness which de-
pends upon the knowledge of facts, Catholic-
ism, with its ten thousand rules and practices,
was mechanically keeping up the ill-contrived
structure of devotion, which it had raised more
in my fancy than my heart. It had now to
contend, however, with an enemy whom no-
LETTERS FltOM SPAIN. 121
thing but fixed hope can keep within bounds
but religion had left me no hope. Instead of
engaging love on her side, she had forced him
into an inseparable league with immorality. I
will not describe the misery that embittered
my youth, and destroyed the peace of my ma-
turer years the struggles, perhaps the crimes,
certainly the remorse, that were in me the con-
sequence of the barbarous laws of my coun-
try. They are too intimately blended with
self, too intricately entwined with the feelings
of others, to be left exposed for ever to the
cold indifference of such as live on, wicked, or
innocent by rote. Whatever on this point is
connected with the general state of Spain, has
already been touched upon. Mine, indeed, is
the lot of thousands. Often did I recoil at the
approach of the moment when I was to bind
myself for ever to the clerical profession, and
as often my heart failed me at the sight of a mo-
ther in tears! It was no worldly interest it
was the eternal welfare of my soul, which she
believed to depend on my following the call of
Heaven, that made the best of mothers a snare
to her dearest child. The persuasions of my
confessor, and, above all, the happiness I ex*
perienced in restoring cheerfulness to my fa-
mily, deluded me into the hope of preserving
the same feeling through life. A very short
122 LETTERS FROM SPAltf.
time, however, was sufficient to open my eyes.
The inexorable law that bound me was the bit-
terest foe to my virtue. Yet devotion had not
lost her power over my fancy, and I broke
loose, more than once, from her thraldom, and
was as often reclaimed before the awful period
which was to raise me to the priesthood.
" If mental incitement, attended with the
most thrilling and sublime sensations, though
arising from deception, could be indulged with-
out injury to our noblest faculties if life could
be made a long dream without the painful
startings produced by the din and collision of
the world if the opium of delusion could be
largely administered without a complete ener-
vation of our rational energies the lot of a
man of feeling, brought up in the undisturbed
belief of the Catholic doctrines, and raised to
be a dispenser of its mysteries, would be en-
viable above all others. No abstract persua-
sions, if I am to trust my experience, can
either sooth our fears or feed our hopes, inde-
pendently of the imagination ; and I am strong-
ly inclined to assert that no genuine persuasion
exists upon unearthly subjects, without the co-
operation of the imaginative faculty. Hence
the powerful effects of the splendid and strik-
ing system of worship adopted by the Roman
church. A foreigner may be inclined to laugh
LETTEUS FROM SPAIN. 123
at the strange ceremonies performed in a
Spanish cathedral, because these ceremonies
are a conventional language to which he at-
taches no ideas. But he that from the cradle
has been accustomed to kiss the hand of every
priest, and receive his blessing that has asso-
ciated the name and attributes of the Deity
with the consecrated bread that has observed
the awe with which it is handled how none
but a priest dare touch it what clouds of in-
cense, what brilliancy of gems surround it when
exposed to the view with what heart-felt
anxiety the glare of lights, the sound of music,
and the uninterrupted adoration of the priests in
waiting, are made to evince the overpowering
feeling of a God dwelling among men such a
man alone can conceive the state of a warm-
hearted youth, who, for the first time, ap-
proaches the altar, not as a mere attendant, but
as the sole worker of the greatest of miracles.
" No language can do justice to my own
feelings at the ceremony of ordination, the per-
formance of the first mass, and during the in-
terval which elapsed between this fever of
enthusiasm and the cold scepticism that soon
followed it. For some months previous to the
awful ceremony I voluntarily secluded myself
from the world, making religious reading and
meditation the sole employment of my time.
1 24 LLTT E KS FROM S PA 1 X.
The Exercises of Saint Ignatius, which imme-
diately preceded the day of ordination, filled my
heart with what appeared to me a settled dis-
taste for every worldly pleasure. When the
consecrating rites had been performed when
my hands had been anointed -the sacred ves-
ture, at first folded on my shoulders, let
drop around me by the hands of the bishop
the sublime hymn to the all-creating Spirit ut-
tered in solemn strains, and the power of re-
storing sinners to innocence conferred upon
me when, at length, raised to the dignity of a
* fellow- worker with God,' the bishop addressed
me, in the name of the Saviour : ' Henceforth
I call you not servant .... but I have called you
friend ; ' I truly felt as if, freed from the ma-
terial part of my being, I belonged to a higher
rank of existence. I had still a heart, it is
true a heart ready to burst at the sight of my
parents, on their knees, while impressing the
first kiss on my newly-consecrated hands ; but
it was dead to the charms of beauty. Among
,.r the friendly crowd that surrounded me for the
i same purpose were those. lips which a few
months before I would have died to press ; yet
I could but just mark their superior softness.
In vain did I exert myself to check exuberance
of feelings at my first mass. My tears bedew-
ed the corporals on which, with the eyes of
LETTKRS FROM SPAIX. 125
faith, I beheld the disguised lover of mankind
whom I had drawn from heaven to my hands.
These are dreams, indeed, the illusions of an
over-heated fancy ; but dreams they are which
some of the noblest minds have dreamt through
life without waking dreams which, while
passing vividly before the mental eye, must
entirely wrap up the soul of every one who is
neither more nor less than a man.
" To exercise the privileges of my office for
the benefit of my fellow-creatures, was now
my exclusive aim and purpose. I daily cele-
brated mass, with due preparation, preached
often, and rejected none that applied to me for
confession. The best ascetic writers of the
Church of Rome were constantly in my hands.
I made a study of the Fathers ; but, though I
had the Scriptures among my books, it was,
according to custom, more for reference than
perusal. These feelings, this state of mental
abstraction, is by no means uncommon, for a
time, among young priests whose hearts have
not been withered by a course of premature
profligacy. It would be absurd to expect it
in such as embrace the clerical state as a trade,
or are led to the church by ambition, and least
of all among the few that would never bind
themselves with the law of celibacy, had they
not previously freed their minds from all reli-
126 LETTERS FROM
gious fears. Yet, among my numerous ac-
quaintance in the Spanish clergy, I have never
met with any one, possessed of bold talents,
who has not, sooner or later, changed from the
most sincere piety to a state of unbelief.* Were
every individual who has undergone this in-
ternal transformation to describe the steps by
which it was accomplished, I doubt not but
the general outline would prove alike in all.
I shall, however, conclude my narrative by
faithfully relating the origin and progress of the
total change that took place in my mind within
little more than a year after taking priest's
orders.
" The ideas of consistency and perfection
are strongly attached by every sincere Ca-
tholic to his system of faith. The Church of
Rome has played for many centuries a des-
perate, though, till lately, a successful game.
Having once proclaimed the necessity of an
abstract creed fcr salvation, and made herself
the infallible framer and expounder of that
creed, she leaves her votaries no alternative
but that of receiving or rejecting the whole of
her doctrines. Luckily for her interests, men
seldom go beyond a certain link in the chain of
thought, or allow themselves to look into the
sources of traditionary doctrines. Her theo-
* See Note E.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN'. 1 '27
logical system, on the other hand, having so
shaped its gradual growth as to fill up defici-
encies as they were perceived, affords an
ample range to every mind that, without ven-
turing to examine the foundations, shall be
contented with the symmetry, of the structure-
I have often heard the question, how could
such men as Bossuet and Fenelon adhere to
the Church of Rome and reject the Protestant
faith ? The answer appears to me obvious.
Because, according to their fixed principles on
this matter, they must have been either Catho-
lics or Infidels. Laying it down as an axiom,
that Christianity was chiefly intended to re-
veal a system of doctrines necessary for salva-
tion, they naturally and consistently inferred
the existence of an authorized judge upon
questions of faith, otherwise the inevitable
doubts arising from private judgment would
defeat the object of revelation. Thus it is that
Bossuet thought he had triumphantly confuted
the Protestants by merely shewing that they
could not agree in their Articles. Like Bos-
suet, most Catholic divines can see no medium
between denying the infallible authority of the
Church and rejecting revelation.
" No proposition in Euclid could convey
stronger conviction to my mind than that
which I found in this dilemma. Let me but
prove, said I to myself, that there exists a
128 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
single flaw in the system, and it will all crum-
ble into dust. Yet, as in- a Catholic, * once to
doubt is once to be resolved,' I might have
eternally closed my eyes, like many others,
against the impression of the most glaring
falsehoods ; for how could I retrieve the rash
step of holding my judgment in suspense while
I examined? The most hideous crimes fall
within the jurisdiction of a confessor; but the
mortal taint of heresy cannot be removed
except by the Pope's delegated authority,
which, in Spain, he has deposited in the hands
of the Inquisition. Should I deliberately in-
dulge my doubts for a moment, what a moun-
tain of crime and misery I should bring upon
my head ! My office would, probably, lay me
under the necessity of celebrating mass the
next day, which, to do with a consciousness
of unabsolved sin, is sacrilege, while this par-
ticular offence would besides involve me in the
ecclesiastical sentence of suspension and inter-
dict. The recurring necessity of officiating at
the altar, before I could remove these inabili-
ties, would increase them every day tenfold,
and give my life a foretaste of the torturing
fire to which I should be doomed by the sen-
tence of my church. These fears are not pecu-
liar to timid or weak characters : they are the
legitimate consequences of a consistent and
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 129
complicated system, and cannot be dispelled
but by a decided rejection of the whole.
The involuntary train, however, both of feel-
ing and thought, which was to make me break
out into complete rebellion, had long been
sapping the foundations of my faith, without
my being aware that the whole structure
nodded to its ruin. A dull sense of existence,
a heaviness that palled my taste for life and its
concerns, had succeeded my first ardour of
devotion. Conscientiously faithful to my en-
gagements, and secluded from every object
that might ruffle the calm of my heart, I looked
for happiness in the performance of my duty.
But happiness was fled from me ; and, though
totally exempt from remorse, I could not bear
the death-like silence of my soul. An unmean-
ing and extremely burdensome practice laid by
the Church of Rome upon her clergy, "contri-
buted not a little to increase the irksomeness
of my circumstances. A Catholic clergyman,
who employs his whole day in the discharge of
his duty to others, must yet repeat to himself
the service of the day in an audible voice a
performance which neither constant practice,
nor the most rapid utterance, can bring within
the compass of less than an hour and a half in
the four-and-twenty. This exhausting exer-
cise is enjoined under pain of mortal sin, and
K
130 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the restitution of that day's income on which
any portion of the office is omitted.
" Was mine a life of usefulness ? Was not
the world, with all its struggles, its miseries,
and its vices, productive of nobler and more
exalted minds than this tame and deadening
system of perfection ? How strong must be the
probability of future reward, to balance the
actual certainty of such prolonged misery?
Suppose, however, the reality and magnitude
of the recompence am I not daily, and hourly,
in danger of eternal perdition ? My heart sinks
at the view of the interminable list of offences,
every one of which may finally plunge me into
the everlasting flames. Everlasting! and why
so? Can there be revenge or cruelty 'in the
Almighty ? Such were the harassing thoughts
with which 1 wrestled day and night. Pro-
strate upon my knees T daily prayed for deli-
verance ; but my prayers were not heard. I
tried to strengthen my faith by reading Ber-
gier, and some of the French Apologists. But
what can they avail a doubting Catholic ? His
system of faith being indivisible, the evidences
of Christianity lead him to the most glaring
absurdities. To argue with a doubting Ca-
tholic is to encourage and hasten his desertion.
Chateaubriand has perfectly understood the
nature of his task, and, by engaging the feel-
LETTERS. FROM SPAIN. 131
ings and imagination in defence of his creed,
has given it the fairest chance against the dry
and tasteless philosophy of his countrymen.
His book* propped up my faith for a while.
" Almost on the eve of my mental crisis, I
had to preach a sermon upon an extraordinary
occasion ; when, according to a fashion derived
from France, a long and ambitious discourse
was expected. I made infidelity my subject,
with a most sincere desire of convincing myself
while I laboured to persuade others. What
effect my arguments may have had upon the
audience I know not ; they were certainly lost
upon the orator. Whatever, in this state, could
break the habit of awe which I was so tena-
ciously supporting whatever could urge me
into uttering a doubt on one of the Articles of
the Roman Creed, was sure to make my faith
vanish like a soap-bubble in the air. I had
been too earnest in my devotion, and my Church
too pressing and demanding. Like a cold, art-
ful, interested mistress, that Church either ex-
hausts the ardour of her best lovers, or harasses
them to distraction. As to myself, a moment's
dalliance with her great rival, Freedom, con-
verted my former love into perfect abhorrence.
One morning, as I was wrapt up in my usual
thoughts, on the banks of the Guadafquivir, a
* " Beauties of Christianity," 3 vols. 8vo.
K2
132 LETTERS FROM SPA IX.
gentleman, who had lately been named by the
government to an important place in our pro-
vincial judicature, joined me in the course of
my ramble. We had been acquainted but a
short time, and he, though forced into caution
by an early danger from the Inquisition, was
still friendly and communicative. His talents
of forensic eloquence, and the sprightliness and
elegance of his conversation, had induced a
conviction on my mind, that he belonged to
the philosophical party of the university where
he had been educated. Urged by an irre-
sistible impulse, I ventured with him upon
neutral ground monks, ecclesiastical encroach-
ments, extravagant devotion till the stream of
thought I had thus allowed to glide over the
feeble mound of my fears, swelling' every mo-
ment, broke forth as a torrent from its long and
violent confinement. I was listened to with
encouraging kindness, and there was not a
doubt in my heart which I did not disclose.
Doubts they had, indeed, appeared to me till
that moment ; but utterance transformed them,
at once, into demonstrations. It would be im-
possible to describe the fear and trepidation
that seized me the moment I parted from my
good-natured confidant. The prisons of the
Inquisition seemed ready to close their studded
gates upon me; and the very hell I had just
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 133
denied, appeared yawning before my eyes.
Yet, a few days elapsed, and no evil had over-
taken me. I performed mass with a heart in
open rebellion to the Church that enjoined it :
but I had now settled with myself to offer it
up to my Creator, as I imagine that the en-
lightened Greeks and Romans must have done
their sacrifices. I was, like them, forced to
express my thankfulness in an absurd language.
" This first taste of mental liberty was more
delicious than any feeling I ever experienced ;
but it was succeeded by a burning thirst for
every thing that, by destroying my old mental
habits, could strengthen and confirm my un-
belief. I gave an exorbitant price for any
French irreligious books, which the love of
gain induced some Spanish booksellers to im-
port at their peril. The intuitive knowledge of
one another, which persecuted principles im-
part to such as cherish them in common, made
me soon acquainted with several members of
my own profession, deeply versed in the philo-
sophical school of France. They possessed,
and made no difficulty to lend me, all the Anti-
christian works, which teemed from the French
press. Where there is no liberty, there can
be no discrimination. The ravenous appetite
raised by a forced abstinence makes the mind
gorge itself with all sorts of food, I suspect I
134 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
have thus imbibed some false, and many crude
notions from my French masters. But my
circumstances preclude the calm and dispas-
sionate examination which the subject deserves.
Exasperated by the daily necessity of external
submission to doctrines and persons I detest
and despise, my soul overflows with bitterness.
Though I acknowledge the advantages of mo-
deration, none being used towards me, I prac-
tically, and in spite of my better judgment,
learn to be a fanatic on my own side.
" Pretending studious retirement, I have
.fitted up a small room, to which none but my
confidential friends find admittance. There lie
my prohibited books, in perfect concealment, in
a well-contrived nook under a staircase. The
Breviary alone, in its black-binding, clasps, and
gilt leaves, is kept upon the table, to check the
doubts of any chance intruder."
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 135
LETTER IV.
Seville
AN unexpected event has, since my last,
thrown the inhabitants of this town into raptures
of joy. The bull-fights which, by a royal or-
der, had been discontinued for several years,
were lately granted to the wishes of the people.
The news of the most decisive victory could
not have more elated the spirits of the Anda-
lusians, or roused them into greater activity.
No time was lost in making the necessary pre-
parations. In the course of a few weeks all
was ready for the exhibition, while every heart
beat high with joyful expectation of the ap-
pointed day which was to usher in the favourite
amusement.
You should be told, however, that Seville is
acknowledged, on all hands, to have carried
these fights to perfection. To her school of
bullmamhip that art owes all its refinements.
Bull-fighting is considered by many of our young
136 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
men of fashion a high and becoming accom-
plishment; and mimicking the scenes of the
amphitheatre forms the chief amusement
among boys of all ranks in Andalusia. The
boy who personates the most important charac-
ter of the drama the bull is furnished with
a large piece of board, armed in front with the
natural weapons of the animal, and having
handles fastened to the lower surface. By the
last the boy keeps the machine steady on the
top of the head, and with the former he un-
mercifully pushes such of his antagonists as
are not dextrous enough to evade, or suf-
ficiently swift to escape him. The fighters
have small darts, pointed with pins, which they
endeavour to fix on a piece of cork stuck flat
on the horned board, till at length the bull falls,
according to rule, at the touch of a wooden
sword.
Our young country-gentlemen have a sub-
stitute for the regular bull-fights, much more
approaching to reality. About the beginning
of summer, the great breeders of black cattle
generally men of rank and fortune send an
invitation to their neighbours to be present at
the trial of the yearlings, in order to select
those that are to be reserved for the amphi-
theatre. The greatest festivity prevails at
these meetings. A temporary scaffolding is
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 137
raised round the walls of a very large court,
for the accommodation of the ladies. The gen-
tlemen attend on horseback, dressed in short
loose jackets of silk, chintz, or dimity, the
sleeves of which are not sewed to the body,
but laced with broad ribbons of a suitable
colour, swelling not ungracefully round the top
of the shoulders. A profusion of hanging but-
tons, either silver or gold, mostly silver gilt,
twinkle in numerous rows round the wrists
of both sexes. The saddles, called Albardones,
to distinguish them from the peak- saddle,
which is seldom used in Andalusia, rise
about a foot before and behind in a triangular
shape. The stirrups are iron boxes, open on
both sides, and affording a complete rest the
whole length of the foot. Both country-people
and gentlemen riding in these saddles, use the
stirrups so short, that, in defiance of all the
rules of manage, the knees and toes project
from the side of the horse, and, when gallop^
ing, the rider appears to kneel on its back. A
white beaver-hat, of rather more than two feet
diameter, fastened under the chin by a ribbon,
was till lately worn at these sports, and is still
used by the horsemen at the public exhibi-
tions ; but the Montera is now prevalent. I find
it difficult to describe this part of the national
dress without the aid of a drawing. Imagine,
138 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
however, a bishop's mitre inverted, and closed
on the side intended to receive the head. Con-
ceive the two points of the mitre so shortened
that, placed downwards on the skull, they
should scarcely cover the ears. Such is our
national cap. Like Don Quixote's head-piece,
the frame is made of paste-board. Externally
it is black velvet, ornamented with silk frogs
and tassels of the same colour.
Each of the cavaliers holds a lance, twelve
feet in length, headed with a three-edged steel
point. This weapon is called Garrocha, and it
is used by horsemen whenever they have to
contend with the bulls either in the fields or
the amphitheatre. The steel, however, is
sheathed by two strong leather rings, which
are taken off in proportion to the strength of
the bull, and the sort of wound which is in-
tended. On the present occasion no more
than half an inch of steel is uncovered. Dou-
ble that length is allowed in the amphitheatre ;
though the spear is not intended to kill or dis-
able the animal, but to keep him off by the
painful pressure of the steel on a superficial
wound. Such, however, is the violence of the
bulls when attacking the horses, that I once
saw the blunt spear I have described, run
along the neck into the body of the beast and
kill him on the spot. But this is a rare occur-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 139
rence, and foul play was suspected on the part
of the man, who seems to have used more steel
than the lance is allowed to be armed with.
The company being assembled in and round
the rural arena, the one-year-old bulls are
singly let in by the herdsmen. It might be
supposed, that animals so young would be
frightened at the approach of the horseman
couching his spear before their eyes ; but our
Andalusian breeders expect better things from
their favourites. A young bull must attack
the horseman twice, bearing the point of the
spear on his neck, before he is set apart for the
bloody honours of the amphitheatre. Such as
flinch from the trial are instantly thrown down
by the herdsmen, and prepared for the yoke
on the spot.
These scenes are often concluded with a
more cruel sport, named Derribar. A strong
bull is driven from the herd into the open field,
where he is pursued at full gallop by the whole
band of horsemen. The Spanish bull is a fleet
animal, and the horses find it difficult to keep
up with him at the first onset. When he be-
gins, however, to slack in his course, the fore-
most spearman, couching his lance, and aiming
obliquely at the lower part of the spine, above
the haunches, spurs his horse to his utmost
speed, and, passing the bull, inflicts a wound,
140 LETTKRS FROM SPAIN.
which, being exceedingly painful, makes him
wince, lose his balance, and come down with a
tremendous fall. The shock is so violent that
the bull seems unable to rise for some time.
It is hardly necessary to observe, that such
feats require an uncommon degree of horse-
manship, and the most complete presence of
mind.
Our town itself abounds in amusements of
this kind, where the professional bull-fighters
learn their art, and the amateurs feast their
eyes, occasionally joining in the sport with the
very lowest of the people. You must know,
by the way, that our town corporation enjoy
the privilege of being our sole and exclusive
butchers. They alone have a right to kill and
sell meat ; which, coming through their noble
hands, (for this municipal government is en-
tailed on the first Andalusian families) is the
worst and dearest in the whole kingdom. Two
droves of lean cattle are brought every week
to a large slaughter-house (el matadero) which
stands between one of the city gates and the
suburb of San Bernardo. To walk in that
neighbourhood when the cattle approach is
dangerous; for, notwithstanding the emaciated
condition of the animals, and though many are
oxen and cows, a crowd is sure to collect on
the plain, and by the waving of their cloaks, and
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 141
a sharp whistling which they make through
their fingers, they generally succeed in dis-
persing the drove, in order to single out the
fiercest for their amusement. Nothing but
the Spanish cloak is used on these occasions.
Holding it gracefully at arm's length before
the body, so as to conceal the person from the
breast to the feet, they wave it in the eyes of
the animal, shaking their heads with an air of
defiance, and generally calling out Ha! Toro y
Toro! The bull pauses a moment before he
rushes upon the nearest object. It is said,
that he shuts his eyes at the instant of pushing
with his horns. The man keeping his cloak in
the first direction, flings it over the head of the
animal, while he glances his body to the left,
just when the bull, led forward by the original
impulse, must run on a few yards without be-
ing able to turn upon his adversary, whom,
upon wheeling round, he finds prepared to
delude him as before. This sport is exceed-
ingly lively ; and when practised by proficients,
seldom attended with danger. It is called
Capco. The whole population of San Bernardo,
men, women, and children, are adepts in this
art. Within the walls of the slaughter-house,
however, is the place where the bull-fighters
by profession are allowed to improve them-
selves. A member of the town corporation
142 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
presides, and admits, gratis, his friends ; among
whom, notwithstanding the filth natural to
such places, ladies do not disdain to appear.
The Matadero is so well known as a school for
bull-fighting, that it bears the cant appellation
of the College. Many of our first noblesse have
frequented no other school. Fortunately, this
fashion is wearing away. Yet we have often
seen Viscount Miranda, the head of one of the
proudest families of the proud city of Cordova,
step into the public amphitheatre, and kill a
bull with his own hand. This gentleman had
reared up one of his favourite animals, and ac-
customed him to walk into his parlour, to the
great consternation of the company. The
bull, however, once, in a surly mood, forgot
his acquired tameness, and gored one of the
servants to death; in consequence of which his
master was compelled to kill him.
That Spanish gentlemen fight in public with
bulls, I suppose you have heard or read. But
this does not regularly take place, except at
the coronation of our kings, and in their pre-
sence. Such noblemen as are able to engage
in the perilous sport, volunteer their services
for the sake of the reward, which is some va-
luable place under government, if they prefer
it to an order of Knighthood. They appear on
horseback, attended by the first professional
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 143
fighters, on foot, and use short spears with a
broad blade, called Rejones.
A Bull-day, (Dia deToros), as it is emphati-
cally called at Seville, stops all public and pri-
vate business. On the preceding afternoon,
the amphitheatre is thrown open to all sorts
of people indiscriminately. Bands of military
music enliven the bustling scene. The seats
are occupied by such as wish to see the pro-
menade on the arena, round which the ladies
parade in their carriages, while every man seems
to take pleasure in moving on the same spot
where the fierce combat is to take place within
a few hours. The spirits of the company are,
in fact, pitched up by anticipation to the gay,
noisy, and bold temper of the future sport.
Our amphitheatre is one of the largest and
handsomest in Spain. A great part is built of
stone ; but, from want of money, the rest is
wood. From ten to twelve thousand specta-
tors may be accommodated with seats. These
rise, uncovered, from an elevation of about
eight feet above the arena, and are finally
crowned by a gallery, from whence the wealthy
behold the fights, free from the inconveniences
of the weather. The lowest tier, however, is
preferred by young gentlemen, as affording a
clearer view of the wounds inflicted on the
bull. This tier is protected by a parapet.
144 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Another strong fence, six feet high, is erected
round the arena, leaving a space of about
twenty between its area and the lower seats.
Openings, admitting a man side-ways, are
made in this fence, to allow the men on foot an
escape when closely pursued by the bull.
They, however, most generally leap over it,
with uncommon agility. But bulls of a certain
breed, will not be left behind, and they lite-
rally clear the fence. Falling into the vacant
space before the seats, the animal runs about
till one of the gates is opened, through which
he is easily drawn back to the arena.
Few among the lower classes retire to their
beds on the eve of a Bull-day. From midnight
they pour down the streets leading to the Am-
phitheatre, in the most riotous and offensive
manner, to be present at the Encierro shut-
ting-'m of the bulls which being performed
at the break of day, is allowed to be seen
without paying for seats. These animals are
conducted from their native fields to a large
plain in the neighbourhood of Seville, from
whence eighteen, the number exhibited daily
during the feasts, are led to the amphitheatre
on the appointed day, that long confinement
may not break down their fierceness. This
operation has something extremely wild in its
character. All the amateurs of the town are
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 145
seen, on horseback with their lances, hasten-
ing towards Tablada, the spot where the bulls
are kept at large. The herdsmen, on foot,
collect the victims of the day into a drove ;
this they do by means of tame oxen, called
Cabestros, taught to be led by a halter, carrying,
tied round their neck, a large deep-sounding
bell, with a wooden clapper. What the habit
of following the bells of the leaders fails to do,
the cracking of the herdsmen's slings is sure to
perform, when the animals are not driven to
madness. The horsemen, besides, stand on all
sides of the drove till they get it into a round
trot. Thus they proceed to within half a mile
of the amphitheatre. At that distance a path
is closed up on both sides, with stout poles,
tied horizontally across upright stakes a
feeble rampart, indeed, against the fury of a
herd of wild bulls. Yet the Sevillian mob,
though fully aware of the danger, are mad
enough to take pleasure in exposing themselves.
The intolerable noise in my street, and the
invitation of a Member of the Maestranza a
corporate association of noblemen, whose ob-
ject is the breeding and breaking of horses,
and who in this town enjoy the exclusive pri-
vilege of giving bull-feasts to the public in-
duced me, during the last season, to get up
one morning with the dawn, and take my stand
L
146 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
at the amphitheatre, where, from their private
gallery, I commanded a view of the plain ly-
ing between the river Guadalquivir and that
building.
At the distant sound of the oxen's bells,
shoals of people were seen driving wildly
over the plain, like clouds before a strong gale.
One could read in their motions, a struggle be-
tween fear on one side, and vanity and habit on
the other. Now they approached the palisade,
now they ran to a more distant spot. Many
climbed up the trees, while the more daring or
fool-hardy, kept their station on what they es-
teemed a post of honour. As our view was ter-
minated by a narrow pass between the river and
the ancient tower called del Oro, or Golden, the
cavalcade broke upon us with great effect. It
approached at full gallop. The leading horse-
men, now confined within the palisades, and
having the whole herd at their heels, were
obliged to run for their lives. Few, however,
ventured on this desperate service, and their
greatest force was in the rear. The herdsmen
clinging to the necks of the oxen, in order to
keep pace with the horses, appeared, to an
unpractised eye, doomed to inevitable destruc-
tion. The cries of the multitude, the sound
of numberless horns, made of the hollow stem
of a large species of thistle, the shrill and
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 147
penetrating whistling, which seems most to
harass and enrage the bulls, together with the
confused and rapid motion of the scene, could
hardly be endured without a degree of dizzi-
ness. It often happens, that the boldest of
the mob succeed in decoying a bull from the
drove ; but I was, this time, fortunate enough
to see them safely lodged in the Toril a small
court divided into a series of compartments
with drop-gates, in the form of sluices, into
which they are successively goaded from a
surrounding gallery, and lodged singly till the
time of letting them loose upon the arena.
The custom of this town requires that a bull
be given to the populace immediately after the
shutting-in. The irregular fight that ensues is
perfectly disgusting and shocking. The only
time I have witnessed it, the area of the am-
phitheatre was actually crowded with people,
both on horse and foot. Fortunately their
numbers distracted the animal : on whatever
side he charged, large masses ran before him, on
which he would have made a dreadful havock,
but for the multitude which drew his attention
to another spot. Yet one of the crowd, evi-
dently in a state of intoxication, who stood still
before the bull, was tossed up to a great height,
and fell apparently dead. He w r ould have been
gored to pieces before our eyes, had not the
L 2
148 LETTERS FROM SPAIN*.
herdsmen and some other good fighters drawn
away the beast with their cloaks.
Such horrors are frequent at these irregular
fights ; yet neither the cruelty of the sport, nor
the unnecessary danger to which even the most
expert bull-fighters expose their lives, nor the
debauch and profligacy attendant on such ex-
hibitions, are sufficient to rouse the zeal of our
fanatics against them. Our popular preachers
have succeeded twice, within my recollection,
in shutting up the theatre. I have myself seen
a friar with a crucifix in his hand, stop at its
door, at the head of an evening procession, and,
during a considerable part of the performance,
conjure the people, as they valued their souls,
not to venture into that abode of sin ; but I
never heard from these holy guardians of morals
the least observation against bull-fighting : and
even our high-flyers in devotion the Phillp-
piam*, whom we might call our Methodists,
allow all, except clergymen, to attend these
bloody scenes, while they deny absolution to
any who do not renounce the play.
Before quitting the amphitheatre I was taken
by my friend to the gallery from which the
bulls were being goaded into their separate
stalls. As it stands only two or three feet
* See Letter III. page 89.
LETTERS FROM SPAIK. 149
above their heads, I could not but feel a degree
of terror at such a close view of those fiery
savage eyes, those desperate efforts to reach
the beholders, accompanied by repeated and
ferocious bellowings. There is an intelligence
and nobleness in the lion that makes him look
much less terrific in his den. I saw the Divisa,
a bunch of ribbons tied to a barbed steel
point, stuck into the bulls' necks. It is in-
tended to distinguish the breeds by different
combinations of colours, which are stated in
handbills, sold about the streets like your
court-calendars before the assizes.
Ten is the appointed hour to begin the morn-
ing exhibition ; and such days are fixed upon
as will not, by a long church-service, prevent
the attendance of the canons and prebendaries,
who choose to be present ; for the chapter, in
a body, receive a regular invitation from the
Maestranza. Such, therefore, as have secured
seats, may stay at home till the tolling of the
great bell announces the elevation of the host
a ceremony which takes place near the con-
clusion of the daily morning service.
The view of the Seville amphitheatre, when
full, is very striking. Most people attend in
the Andalusian dress, part of which I have al-
ready described. The colour of the men's
cloaks, which are of silk, in the fine season,
150 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
varies from purple to scarlet. The short loose
jackets of the men display the most lively
hues, and the white veils which the females
generally wear at these meetings, tell beauti-
fully with the rest of their gay attire.
The clearing of the arena, on which a multitude
lounges till the last moment, is part of the show,
and has the appropriate appellation of Despejo.
This is performed by a regiment of infantry.
The soldiers entering at one of the gates in a
column, display their ranks, at the sound of
martial music, and sweep the people before
them as they march across the ground. This
done, the gates are closed, the soldiers perform
some evolutions, in which the commanding
officer is expected to shew his ingenuity, till,
having placed his men in a convenient posi-
tion, they disband in a moment, and hide them-
selves behind the fence.
The band of Toreros (bull-fighters), one half in
blue, the other in scarlet cloaks, now advance
in two lines across the arena, to make obeisance
to the president. Their number is generally
twelve or fourteen, including the two Mata-
dores, each attended by an assistant called Mt-
diaespada (demi-sword). Close in their rear
follow the Picadores (pikemen) on horseback,
wearing scarlet jackets trimmed with silver
lace. The shape of the horsemen's jackets re-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 151
sembles those in use among the English post-
boys. As a protection to the legs and thighs,
they have strong leather overalls, stuffed to an
enormous size with soft brown paper a sub-
stance which is said to offer great resistance to
the bull's horns. After making their bow to
the president, the horsemen take their post in
a line to the left of the gate which is to let in
the bulls, standing in the direction of the bar-
rier at the distance of thirty or forty paces
from each other. The fighters on foot, without
any weapon or means of defence, except their
cloaks, wait, not far from the horses, ready to
give assistance to the pikemen. Every thing
being thus in readiness, a constable, in the an-
cient Spanish costume, rides up to the front of
the principal gallery, and receives into his hat
the key of the Toril or bull's den, which the
president flings from the balcony. Scarcely
has the constable delivered the key under the
steward's gallery, when, at the waving of the
president's handkerchief, the bugles sound
amid a storm of applause, the gates are flung
open, and the first bull rushes into the amphi-
theatre. I shall describe what, on the day I
allude to, our connoisseurs deemed an inter-
esting fight, and if you imagine it repeated,
with more or less danger and carnage, eight
times in the morning and ten in the evening,
152 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
you will have a pretty accurate notion of the
whole performance.
The bull paused a moment, and looked wildly
upon the scene ; then, taking notice of the first
horseman, made a desperate charge against
him. The ferocious animal was received at
the point of the pike, which, according to the
laws of the game, was aimed at the fleshy part
of the neck. A dextrous motion of the bridle-
hand and right leg made the horse evade the
bull's horn, by turning to the left. Made fiercer
by the wound, he instantly attacked the next
pikeman, whose horse, less obedient to the
rider, was so deeply gored in the chest that he
fell dead on the spot. The impulse of the bull's
thrust threw the rider on the other side of the
horse. An awful silence ensued. The spec-
tators, rising from their seats, beheld in fearful
suspense the wild bull goring the fallen horse,
while the man, whose only chance of safety
depended on lying motionless, seemed dead to
all appearance. This painful scene lasted but
a few seconds ; for the men on foot, by running
towards the bull, in various directions, waving
their cloaks and uttering loud cries, soon made
him quit the horse to pursue them. When the
danger of the pikeman was passed, and he rose
on his legs to vault upon another horse, the
burst of applause might be heard at the far-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 153
thest extremity of the town. Dauntless, and
urged by revenge, he now galloped forth to
meet the bull. But, without detailing the
shocking sights that followed, I shall only
mention that the ferocious animal attacked the
horsemen ten successive times, wounded four
horses and killed two. One of these noble
creatures, though wounded in two places, con-
tinued to face the bull without shrinking, till
growing too weak, he fell down with the rider.
Yet these horses are never trained for the
fights ; but are bought for the amount of thirty
or forty shillings, when, worn out with labour,
or broken by disease, they are unfit for any
other service.
A flourish of the bugles discharged the horse-
men till the beginning of the next combat, and
the amusement of the people devolved on the
Banderilleros the same whom we have hi-
therto seen attentive to the safety of the horse-
men. The Banderilla, literally, little flag, from
which they take their name, is a shaft of two
feet in length, pointed with a barbed steel, and
gaily ornamented with many sheets of painted
paper, cut into reticulated coverings. Without
a cloak, and holding one of these darts in each
hand, the fighter runs up to the bull, and stop-
ping short when he sees himself attacked, he
fixes the two shafts, without flinging them,
154 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
behind the horns of the beast at the very mo-
ment when it stoops to toss him. The painful
sensation makes the bull throw up his head
without inflicting the intended blow, and while
he rages in impotent endeavours to shake off
the hanging darts that gall him, the man has
full leisure to escape. It is on these occasions,
when the Banderilleros fail to fix the darts, that
they require their surprising swiftness of foot.
Being without the protection of a cloak, they
are obliged to take instantly to flight. The
bull follows them at full gallop ; and 1 have
seen the man leap the barrier, so closely pur-
sued by the enraged brute, that it seemed as
if he had sprung up by placing the feet on
its head. Townsend thought it was literally
so. Some of the darts are set with squibs and
crackers. The match, a piece of tinder, made
of a dried fungus, is so fitted to the barbed
point, that, rising by the pressure which makes
it penetrate the skin, it touches the train of
the fireworks. The only object of this refine-
ment of cruelty is, to confuse the bull's instinc-
tive powers, and, by making him completely
frantic, to diminish the danger of the Matador,
who is never so exposed as when the beast is
collected enough to meditate the attack.
At the waving of the president's handker-
chief, the bugles sounded the death-signal, and
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 1 o5
the Matador came forward. Pepe Illo, the
pride of this town, and certainly one of the
most graceful and dextrous fighters that Spain
has ever produced, having flung off his cloak,
approached the bull with a quick, light, and
fearless step. In his left hand he held a
square piece of red cloth, spread upon a staff
about two feet in length, and in his right a
broad sword not much longer. His attendants
followed him at a distance. Facing the bull,
within six or eight yards, he presented the
red flag, keeping his body partially concealed
behind it, and the sword entirely out of view.
The bull rushed against the red cloth, and our
hero slipped by his side by a slight circular
motion, while the beast passed under the lure
which the Matador held in the first direction,
till he had evaded the horns. Enraged by this
deception, and unchecked by any painful sen-
sation, the bull collected all his strength for a
desperate charge. Pepe Illo now levelled his
sword, at the left side of the bull's neck, and,
turning upon his right foot as the animal ap-
proached him, ran the weapon nearly up to the
hilt into its body. The bull staggered, tot-
tered, and dropped gently upon his bent legs;
but had yet too much life in him for any man
to venture near with safety. The unfortunate
Illo has since perished from a wound inflicted
156 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
by a bull in a similar state. The Matador ob-
served, for one or two minutes, the signs of
approaching death in the fierce animal now
crouching before him, and at his bidding, an
attendant crept behind the bull and struck him
dead, by driving a small poniard at the join-
ture of the spine and the head. This operation
is never performed, except when the prostrate
bull lingers. I once saw Illo, at the desire of
the spectators, inflict this merciful blow in a
manner which nothing but ocular demonstra-
tion would have made me believe. Taking the
poniard, called Puntilla, by the blade, he
poised it for a few moments, and jerked it with
such unerring aim on the bull's neck, as he lay
on his bent legs, that he killed the animal with
the quickness of lightning.
Four mules, ornamented with large morrice-
bells and ribbons, harnessed a breast, and draw-
ing a beam furnished with an iron hook in the
middle, galloped to the place where the bull
lay. This machine being fastened to a rope
previously thrown round the dead animal's
horns, he was swiftly dragged out of the am-
phitheatre.
I have now given you a more minute, and, I
trust, more correct description of every thing
connected with the bull-fights than has ever
been drawn by any traveller. Townsend's is
LETTERS FROM SP*A I N". 157
the best account of these sports I ever met
with; yet it is not free from mistakes. So
difficult is it to see distinctly scenes with which
we are not familiarly acquainted.
The risk of the fighters is great, and their
dexterity alone prevents its being imminent.
The lives most exposed are those of the Mata-
dores ; and few of them have retired in time to
avoid a tragical end. Bull-fighters rise from
the dregs of the people. Like most of their
equals, they unite superstition and profligacy
in their character. None of them will venture
upon the arena without a scapulary, two small
square pieces of cloth suspended by ribbons, on
the breast and back, between "the shirt and the
waistcoat. In the front square there is a print,
on linen, of the Virgin Mary generally, the
Carmel Mary, who is the patron goddess of all
the rogues and vagabonds in Spain. These
scapularie*s are blessed, and sold by the Car-
melite Friars. Our great Matador, Pepe Illo,
besides the usual amulet, trusted for safety to
the patronage of St. Joseph, whose chapel
adjoins the Seville amphitheatre. The doors of
this chapel were, during Illo's life, thrown open
as long as the fight continued, the image of the
Saint being all that time encircled by a great
number of lighted wax-candles, which the
devout gladiator provided at his own expense.
158 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
The Saint, however, unmindful of this homage,
allowed his client often to be wounded, and
finally left him to his fate at Madrid.
To enjoy the spectacle I have described, the
feelings must be greatly perverted ; yet that
degree of perversion is very easily accom-
plished. The display of courage and address
which is made at these exhibitions, and the
contagious nature of all emotions in numerous
assemblies, are more than sufficient to blunt,
in a short time, the natural disgust arising
from the first view of blood and slaughter. If
we consider that even the Vestals at Rome
were passionately fond of gladiatorial shows,
we shall not be surprised at the Spanish taste
for sports which, with infinite less waste of
human life, can give rise to the strongest
emotions.
The following instance, with which I shall
conclude, will shew you to what degree the
passion for bull-fights can grow. A gentleman
of my acquaintance had, some years ago, the
misfortune to lose his sight. It might be
supposed, that a blind man would avoid the
scene of his former enjoyment a scene where
every thing is addressed to the eye. This gen-
tleman, however, is a constant attendant at the
amphitheatre. Morning and evening he takes
his place with the Maestranza, of which he is
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 159
a member, having his guide by his side. Upon
the appearance of every bull, he greedily listens
to the description of the animal, and of all that
takes place in the fight. His mental concep-
tion of the exhibition, aided by the well-known
cries of the multitude, is so vivid, that when a
burst of applause allows his attendant just to
hint at the event that drew it from the specta-
tors, the unfortunate man's face gleams with
pleasure, and he echoes the last clappings of
the circus.
160 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
LETTER V.
Seville, - - 1801.
THE calamity which has afflicted this town
and swept away eighteen thousand of its in-
habitants*, will more than sufficiently account
for part of my long silence. But, during the
interruption of my correspondence, there is a
former period for which I owe you a more
detailed explanation.
My travels in Spain have hitherto been as
limited as is usual among my countrymen.
The expense, the danger, and the great in-
convenience attending a journey, prevent our
travelling for pleasure or curiosity. Most of
our people spend their whole lives within their
province, and few among the females have ever
lost sight of the town that gave them birth. I
have, however, brought home some of your
English restlessness ; and as my dear friend
the young clergyman, whose 'account of himself
* The yellow fever in 1 800.
LtTTERS FROM SPA IX. 101
is already in your hands, had to visit a very
peculiar spot of Andalusia, I joined him most
willingly in his excursion, during which I col-
lected a few traits of our national manners,
with a view to add one more to my preceding
sketches.
My friend's destination was a town in the
mountains or Sierra de Ronda, called Olbera,
or Olvera, for we make no difference in the
pronunciation of the b and the v. A young
man of that town had been elected to a fellow-
ship of this Colegio Mayor; and my friend, who
is a member of that body, was the appointed
commissioner for collecting the pruebas, or
evidence, which, according to the statutes,
must be taken at the birth-place of the can-
didate, concerning the purity of his blood and
family connexions. The badness of the roads,
in that direction, induced us to make the whole
journey on horseback. We were provided with
the coarse dress which country gentlemen wear
on similar occasions a short loose jacket and
small-clothes of brown serge ; thick leather
gaiters ; a cloak tied up in a roll on the pom-
mel of the saddle ; and a stout spencer, orna-
mented with a kind of patchwork lace, made
of pieces of various colours, which is a favourite
riding-dress of our Andalusian beaux. Each
of us, as well as the servant, whose horse car-
M
162 LETTERS FROM SPAIV.
ried our light luggage, was armed with a
musket, hanging by a hook, on a ring which
all travelling-saddles are furnished with for that
purpose. This manner of travelling is, upon
the whole, the most pleasant in Andalusia.
Robbers seldom attack people on horseback,
provided they take care, as we did, never to
pass any wooded ground without separating to
the distance of a musket-shot from each other.
My fellow-traveller took this opportunity to
pay a visit to some of his acquaintance at
Osuna, a town of considerable wealth, with a
numerous noblesse, a collegiate church, and a
university. At the end of our first day's jour-
ney we stopped at a pretty populous village
called El Arahal. The inn, though far from
comfortable, in the English sense of the word,
was not one of the worst we were doomed to
endure in our tour; for travellers were not
here obliged to starve if they had not brought
their own provisions ; and we had a room with
a few broken chairs, a deal table, and two flock
beds, laid upon planks raised from the brick-
floor by iron trestles. A dish of ham and eggs
afforded us an agreeable and substantial din-
ner, and a bottle of cheap, but by no means
unpleasant wine, made us forget the jog-trot
of our day's journey.
We had just felt the approach of that pecu-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
liar kind of ennui which lurks in every corner
of an inn, when the sound of a fife and drum,
with more of the sporting and mirthful than of
the military character, awakened our curiosity.
But to ask a question, even at the best Spa-
nish fonda (hotel), you must either exert your
lungs, calling the waiter, chambermaid, and
landlord, in succession, to multiply the chances
of finding one disposed to hear you, or adopt
the more quiet method of searching them
through the house, beginning at the kitchen.
Here, however, we had only to step out of our
room and we found ourselves within the cook's
dominions. The best country inns, indeed,
consist of a large hall contiguous to the street
or road, and paved like the former with round
stones. At one end of this hall there is a large
hearth, raised about a foot from the ground.
A wood-fire is constantly burning upon it, and
travellers of all ranks and degrees, who do not
prefer moping in their cold, unglazed rooms,
are glad to take a seat near it, where they
enjoy, gratis, the wit and humour of carriers,
coachmen, and clowns, and a close view of the
hostess or her maid, dressing successively in
the same frying-pan, now an omelet of eggs
and onions, now a dish of dried fish with oil
and love-apples, or it may be the limbs of a
tough fowl, which but a few moments before
M 2
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
had been strutting about the house. The doors
of the bed-rooms, as well as that of the stable-
yard, all open into the hall. Leaving a suffi-
cient space for carriages and horses to cross
from the front door to the stables, the Spanish
carriers, or harrieros, who travel in parties of
twenty or thirty men and double that number
of mules, range themselves at night along the
walls, each upon his large packsaddle, with
no other covering but a kind of horse-cloth,
called mania, which they use on the road to
keep them dry and warm in winter.
Into this truly common-hall were we brought
by the soiind of the drum, and soon learned
from one of the loungers who sauntered about
it, that a company of stroll ing- players were
in a short time to begin their performance.
This was good news indeed for us, who, un-
willing to go early to bed with a certainty of
not being allowed to sleep, dreaded the close
of approaching night. The performance, we
were told, was to take place in an open court,
where a cow-house, open in front, afforded a
convenient situation both for the stage and the
dressing-room of the actors. Having each of
us paid the amount of a penny and a fraction,
we took our seats under a bright starry sky,
muffled up in our cloaks, and perfectly un-
mindful of the danger which might arise from
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. J 65
the extreme airiness of the theatre. A horri-
bly screaming fiddle, a grumbling violoncello,
and a deafening French-horn, composed the
band. The drop-curtain consisted of four
counterpanes sewed together; and the scenes,
which were red gambroon curtains, hanging
loose from a frame, and flapping in the wind,
let us into the secrets of the dressing-room,
where the actors, unable to afford a different
person for every character, multiplied them-
selves by the assistance of the tailor.
The play was El Diablo Predicador " The I
Devil turned Preacher" one of the numerous
dramatic compositions published anonymously
during the latter part of the Austrian dynasty.
The character of this comedy is so singular,
and so much of the public mind may be learned
from its popularity all over the country, that I
will give you an abstract of the plot.
The hero of the play, designated in the Dra-
matis Personae by the title of primer galan (first
gallant), is Lucifer, who, dressed in a suit of
black velvet and scarlet stockings the appro-
priate stage-dress of devils, of whatever rank
and station appears in the first scene mounted
upon a griffin, summoning his confidant As-
modeus out of a trap, to acquaint him with the
danger to which the newly -established order of
Saint Francis exposed the whole kingdom of
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
darkness. Italy (according to the arch-demon)
was overrun with mendicant friars ; and even
Lucca, the scene of the play, where they had
met with a sturdy opposition, might, he feared,
consent to the building of a Franciscan con-
vent, the foundations of which were already
laid. Lucifer, therefore, determines to assist
the Lucchese in dislodging his cowled enemies
from that town ; and he sends Asmodeus to
Spain upon a similar service. The chief en-
gine he puts in motion is Ludovico, a wealthy
and hard-hearted man, who had just married
Octavia, a paragon of virtue and beauty, thus
cruelly sacrificed by her father's ambition.
Fdiciano, a cousin of Octavia, and the object
of her early affection, availing himself of the
husband's ignorance of their now-broken en-
gagement, makes his appearance at Lucca
with the determination of seducing the bride
and taking revenge on Ludovico. The Guar-
dian of the new convent of Saint Francis, being
obliged by the rule of his order to support the
friars by daily aims collected from the people,
and finding the inhabitants of Lucca determined
to starve them out of their city, applies to
Ludovico for help. That wicked man thrusts
the Guardian and his lay brother Antolin the
gracioso of the play out of the house, to be
hooted and pelted by the mob. Nothing,
LETTERS FROM SPANS'. 167
therefore, is left for the friars but to quit the
town : and now, the poet considering Horace's
rule for supernatural interference as perfectly
applicable to such a desperate state of things,
the Nino Dios (the Child God*), and Michaet
the archangel, come down in a cloud (you will
readily conceive that the actors at our humble
theatre dispensed with the machinery), and the
last, addressing himself to Lucifer, gives him a
peremptory order to assume the habit of Saint
Francis, and under that disguise to stop all the
mischief he had devised against Octavia, to
obtain support from the people of Lucca for
the Franciscans, and not to depart till he had
built two convents instead of the one he was
trying to nip in the bud.
To give, as you say in England, the Devil his
due, it must be confessed, that Lucifer, though
now and then exclaiming against the severity
of his punishment, executes his commission
with exemplary zeal. He presents himself to
the Guardian, in the garb of the order, and
having Brother Antolin appointed as his at-
tendant, soon changes the hearts of the people,
and obtains abundant supplies for the convent.
The under-plot proceeds in the mean time, in-
volving Octavia in the most imminent dangers.
* See Note F.
168 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
She snatches from Feliciano a letter, in which
she had formerly avowed her love to him,
which, imperfectly torn to pieces, falls into
Ludovico's hands, and induces him to plan her
death. To accomplish this purpose, he takes
her into the country, and stabs her in the depth
of a forest, a few minutes before Monk Luci-
fer, who fairly and honestly had intended to
prevent the blow, could arrive at the place
with his lay-companion.
To be thus taken by surprise puzzles the
ex-archangel not a little. Still he observes,
that since Octavia's soul had neither gone to
heaven, purgatory, nor hell, a miracle was on
the point of being performed. Nor was he
deceived in this shrewd conjecture ; for the
Virgin Mary descends in a cloud, and touching
the body of Octavia, restores her to life. Fe-
liciano arriving at this moment, attributes the
miracle to the two friars ; and the report of this
wonder exposes Antolin to a ludicrous mobbing
in the town, where his frock is torn to pieces
to keep the shreds as relics. Lucifer now en-
deavours to prove to the resuscitated wife,
that, according to the canon law, her marriage
has been dissolved by death ; but she, distrust-
ing the casuistry of that learned personage,
immediately returns to her husband. Her un-
willing protector is therefore compelled to pre-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 169
vent a second death, which the desperate Ludo-
vico intends to inflict upon his too faithful wife.
After this second rescue of the beautiful Octa-
via, Lucifer makes a most edifying address,
urging Ludovico to redeem his sins, by giving
alms to the Franciscans. His eloquence, how-
ever, making no impression upon the miser,
Saint Michael gives the word from behind the
scenes, and the obdurate man is swallowed
up by the earth. Michael now makes his ap-
pearance ; and, upon a very sensible remon-
strance of Lucifer, as to the hardship of his
present case, he allows the latter to strip off
the cowl, and carry on hostilities against the
Franciscans by the usual means be employs
against the other religious orders, i. e. assault-
ing the monks' virtue by any means except
their stomachs. Food the Franciscans must
never want, according to the heavenly promise
made to their founder.
This curious play is performed, at least once
a year, on every Spanish theatre ; when the
Franciscan friars, instead of enforcing the
standing rule, which forbids the exhibition of
the monkish dress upon the stage, regularly
lend the requisite suits to the actors : so favour-
able is the impression it leaves in favour of
that mendicant order.
Our truly Thespian entertainment was just
170 LETTERS FKOM SPAIN*
concluded, when we heard the church-bell toll
what in Spain is called Las Animas the Souls.
A man, bearing a large lantern with a painted
glass, representing two naked persons enveloped
in flames, entered the court, addressing every
one of the company in these words : The
Holy Souls, Brother! Remember the Holy Souls.
Few refused the petitioner a copper coin, worth
about the eighth part of a penny. This cus-
tom is universal in Spain. A man, whose chief
employment is to be agent for the souls in
purgatory, in the evening the only time when
the invisible sufferers are begged for about the
towns and for some saint or Madonna, during
the day, parades the streets after sunset, with
the lantern I have described, and never fails
to visit the inns, where the travellers, who ge-
nerally entrust their safety from robbers to the
holy souls, are always ready to make some pe-
cuniary acknowledgement for past favours, or
to engage their protection in future dangers.
The tenderness of all sorts of believing Spa-
niards for the souls in purgatory, and the re-
liance they place on their intercession with
God, would almost be aifecting, did it not ori-
ginate in the most superstitious credulity.
The doctrine of purgatory is very easily,
nay, consistently embraced by such as believe
in the expiatory nature of pain and suffering.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 171
The best feelings of our hearts are, besides,
most ready to assist the imagination in devis-
ing means to keep up an intercourse with that
invisible world, which either possesses already,
or must soon possess, whatever has engaged
our affections in this. Grief for a departed
friend loses half its bitterness with a Catholic
who can firmly believe that not a day shall pass
without repeated and effectual proofs of attach-
ment, on his part, till he join the conscious ob-
ject of his love in bliss. While other articles
of the Catholic faith are too refined and abs-
tract for children, their tender and benevolent
minds eagerly seize on the idea of purgatory
fire. A parent or a brother, still kind to them
in another world, yet suffering excruciating
pains that may be relieved, shortened, and per-
haps put an end to by some privation or prayer,
are notions perfectly adapted to their capacity
and feelings. Every year brings round the day
devoted by the church to the relief of the de-
parted souls. The holy vestments used at the
three masses, which, by a special grant, every
priest is allowed to perform that morning, are
black. Large candles of yellow wax are
placed over the graves within the churches;
and even the churchyards, those humble places
of repose appointed among us for criminals
and paupers, are not neglected on that day of
172
LETTERS i-KOM SPAIN.
revived sorrows. Lights are provided for them
at the expense of the society established in
every town of Spain for the relief of the friend-
less spirits, who, for want of assistance, may be
lingering in the purifying flames ; and many of
the members, with a priest at their head, visit
these cemeteries for nine successive evenings.
Thus, even benevolence, under the guidance
of superstition, degenerates into absurdity. It
does not, however, stop here ; but, rushing
headlong into the ludicrous, forces a smile upon
the face of sympathy, and painfully compels
our mirth where our tears were ready to flow.
The religious ingenuity of the Catholics has
gone so far as to publish the scheme of a lot-
tery for the benefit of such souls as might
otherwise escape their notice. It consists of a
large sheet of paper fixed in a frame, with an
open box beneath it. Under different heads,
numbered from one to ninety, the inventor of
this pious game has distributed the most inter-
esting cases which can occur in the debtor s
side of the infernal Newgate, allotting to each
a prayer, penance, or offering. In the box are
deposited ninety pieces of card, distinguished
by numbers corresponding to the ninety classes.
According as the pious gambler draws the
tickets, lie performs the meritorious works en-
joined in the scheme generally a short prayer
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 173
or slight penance transferring their spiritual
value to the fortunate souls to whom each card
belongs. Often, in my childhood, have I
amused myself at this good-natured game.
But the Inquisition is growing fastidious ; and
though the lottery of purgatory is as fairly
grounded on the doctrines of Rome, as the
papal bulls for the release of suffering souls,
which are sold for sixpence, with a blank for
inserting the name of the person in whose be-
half it is purchased, the inquisitors, it seems,
will not allow the liberation of the departed to
become a matter of chance, and the lottery
scheme has lately been prohibited. Fortunately,
we still have various means of assisting our
friends in Hades; for, besides masses, Bulls,
prayers, and penances, the Pope has estab-
lished eight or ten days in the year, on which
every Spaniard (for the grant is confined to
Spain), by kneeling at five different altars, and
there praying for the extirpation of heresy, is
entitled to send a species of habeas animam writ
to any of his friends in purgatory. The name
of the person whose liberation is intended
should, for fear of mistakes, be mentioned in
the prayers. But, lest the order of release
should find him already free, or perhaps within
those gates to which no Pope has ever ven-
tured to apply his keys, we are taught to en-
174 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
dorse the spiritual bill with other names,
addressing it finally to the most worthy and dis-
consolate.
These privileged days are announced to the
public by a printed notice, placed over the
bason of holy water, which stands near every
church-door; and, as no one enters without
wetting his forehead with the blessed fluid,
there is no fear that the happy season should
pass unheeded by the pious. The words writ-
ten on the tablet are plain and peremptory :
Hoy se saca Anima; literally, " This is a soul-
drawing day." We must, however, proceed on
our interrupted journey.
Osuna, where we arrived on the second day
after leaving Seville, is built on the declivity of
one of the detached hills which stand as out-
posts to the Sierra de Ronda, having in front
a large ill-cultivated plain, from whence the
principal church, and the college, to which the
university of that town is attached, are seen to
great advantage. The great square of the town
is nearly surrounded by an arcade or piazza,
with balconies above it, and is altogether not
unlike a large theatre. Such squares are to be
found in every large town of Spain, and seem
to have been intended for the exhibition of
tournaments and a kind of bull-fights, less
fierce and bloody than those of the amphi-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 175
theatre, which bear the name of regocyos (re-
joicings.)
The line of distinction between the noblesse
and the unprivileged class being here drawn
with the greatest precision, there cannot be a
more disagreeable place for such as are, by
education, above the lower ranks, yet have the
misfortune of a plebeian birth. An honest re-
spectable labourer without ambition, yet with
a conscious dignity of mind not uncommon
among the Spanish peasantry, may, in this re-
spect, well be an object of envy to many of his
betters. Gentlemen treat them with a less
haughty and distant air than is used in Eng-
land towards inferiors and dependents. A
rabadan (chief shepherd), or an aperador (stew-
ard), is always indulged with a seat when
speaking on business with his master, and men
of the first distinction will have a kind word for
every peasant, when riding about the country.
Yet they will exclude from their club and bil-
liard-table a well-educated man, because, for-
sooth, he has no legal title to a Don before his
name.
This town, though one of the third order,
supports three convents of friars and two of
nuns. A gentleman of this place who, being a
clergyman, enjoys a high reputation as a spi-
ritual director, introduced us to some of the
176 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ladies at the nunneries. By this means I became
acquainted with two very remarkable charac-
ters a worker of miracles, and a nun in despair
(monja desesperada). The first was an elderly
woman, whose countenance and manners be-
trayed no symptoms of mental weakness; and
whom, from all I was able to learn, it would be
difficult to class either with the deceiving or
deceived. The firm persuasion of her compa-
nions that she is sometimes the object, some-
times the instrument of supernatural operations,
inspires them with a respect bordering upon
awe. It would be tedious to relate the alleged
instances of her prying into futurity, and
searching the recesses of the heart. Reports
like these are indeed easily raised and propa-
gated : but J shall briefly relate one, which
shews how stories of this kind may get abroad
through the most respectable channels, and
form a chain of evidence which ingenuity can-
not trace up to involuntary error, and candour
would not attribute to deliberate falsehood.
The community of the Descalzas (unshod
nuns) had more than once been thrown into
great consternation on seeing their prioress
for to that office had her sanctity raised the
subject of my story reduced, for many days
together, to absolute abstinence from food and
drink. Though prostrate, and with hardly any
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. 177
power of motion, she was in full possession of
her speech and faculties. Dr. Carnero, a phy-
sician well known in those parts for skill and
personal respectability, attended the patient ,
for though it was firmly believed by the nuns
that human art could not reach the disease, it
is but justice to say, that no attempts were
visible to give it a supernatural character among
strangers. The doctor, who seems to have, at
first, considered the case as a nervous affection,
wished to try the effect of a decided effort of
the patient under the influence of his presence
and authority ; for among nuns the physician
is next in influence to the confessor. Having
therefore sent for a glass of water, and desiring
the attendants to bolster up the prioress into
a sitting posture, he put it into her hand, with
a peremptory injunction to do her utmost to
drink. The unresisting nun put the water to
her lips, and stopped. The physician was
urging her to proceed, when, to his great
amazement, he found the contents of the glass
reduced to one lump of ice. "We had the ac-
count of this wonder from the clergyman
who introduced us to the nun. Of his vera-
city I can entertain no doubt: while he, on
the other hand, was equally confident of Dr.
Carnero's.
178 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Our visit to the other convent made me ac-
quainted with one of the most pitiable objects
ever produced by superstition a reluctant
nun. Of the actual existence of such miserable
beings one seldom hears in Spain. A sense of
decorum, and the utter hopelessness of relief,
keep the bitter regrets of many an imprisoned
female a profound secret to all but their con-
fessor. In the present case, however, the
vehemence of the sufferer's feelings had laid
open to the world the state of her harassed
mind. She was a good-looking woman, of lit-
tle more than thirty : but the contrast between
the monastic weeds, and an indescribable air
of wantonness which, in spite of all caution,
marked her every glance and motion, raised a
mixed feeling of disgust and pity, that made
us uncomfortable during the whole visit. We
had, nevertheless, to stay till the customary
refreshments of preserves, cakes, and chocolate
were served from within the double grate that
divided us from the inhabitants of the convent.
This is done by means of a semicircular wooden
frame which fills up an opening in the wall :
the frame turns upon its centre, presenting,
alternately, its concave and its convex side.
The refreshments being placed within the hollow
part, a slight impulse of the hand places them
within reach of the visitors. This machine
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 179
takes the name of torno, from its rotatory
motion. But I must leave the convents for a
future letter.
After a few days not unpleasantly spent at
Osuna, we proceeded to Olbera. The roads
through all the branches of the Sierra de
Ronda, though often wild and romantic, are
generally execrable. A mistake of our servant
had carried us within two miles of a village
called Paradas, when we were overtaken by a
tremendous storm of hail and thunder. Rain
succeeded in torrents, and forced us to give up
all idea of reaching our destination that evening.
We, consequently, made for the village, anxious
to dry our clothes, which were perfectly wet
through ; but so wretched was the inn, that it
had not a room where we could retire to un-
dress. In this awkward situation, my friend,
as a clergyman, thought of applying to the
vicar, who, upon learning his name, very civilly
received us in his house. The dress of this
worthy priest, a handsome man of about forty,
shewed that he was at least as fond of his gun
and pointer, as of his missal. He had a little
of the swaggering manner of Andalusia, but it
was softened by a frankness and a gentleman-
like air, which we little expected in a retired
Spanish vicar. The fact is, that the livings
being poor, none but the sons of tradesmen or
N2
180 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
peasants have, till very lately, entered the
church, without well-grounded hopes of obtain-
ing at once a place among the dignified clergy.
But I should rather say that the real vicars are
exempted from the care of a parish, and, under
the name of benejiciados, receive the tithes, and
spend them how and where they please. The
nomination of curates belongs to the bishops ;
some of whom, much to the credit of the Spanish
prelacy, have of late contrived to raise their
income, and thereby induced a few young men,
who, not long ago, would have disdained the
office, to take a parish under their care. The
superiority, however, which was visible in our
host, arose from his being what is known by
the name of cura y bene/iciado, or having a
church, of which, as is sometimes the case, the
incumbency is inseparable from the curacy.
He was far above his neighbours in wealth and
consequence; and being fond of field sports
and freedom, he preferred the wild spot where
he had been born, to a more splendid station in
a Spanish cathedral.
The principal, or rather the most frequented,
room in the vicar's house was, as usual, the
kitchen or great hall at the entrance. A well-
looking woman, about five and thirty, with a
very pretty daughter of fifteen, and a peasant-
girl to do the drudgery of the house, formed
LETTERS FUOM SPAIN. 181
the canonical establishment of this happy son
of St. Peter. To scrutinize the relation in
which these ladies stood to the priest, the laws
of hospitality would forbid ; while to consider
them as mere servants, we shrewdly guessed,
would have hurt the feelings of the vicar.
Having therefore, with becoming gallantry,
wound ourselves into their good graces, we
found no difficulty, when supper was served
up, in makinj them take their accustomed
places, which, under some pretence, they now
seemed prepared to decline.
Our hearty meal ended, the alcalde, the
escribano (attorney), and three or four of the
more substantial farmers, dropped in to their
nightly tertulia. As the vicar saw no profes-
sional squeamishness in my reverend compa-
nion he had no hesitation to acquaint us with the
established custom of the house, which was to
play ditfaro till bed-time; and we joined the
party. A green glazed earthen jar, holding a
quart of brandy, flavoured with anise, was
placed at the feet of the vicar, and a glass
before each of the company. The inhabitants
of the Sierra de Ronda are fond of spirits, and
many exceptions to the general abstemiousness
of the Spaniards are found among them. But
we did not observe any excess in our party.
Probably the influence of the clergyman, and
182 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the presence of strangers, kept all within the
strictest rules of decorum. Next morning,
after taking a cup of chocolate, and cordially
thanking our kind host, we took horse for
Olbera.
Some miles from that village, we passed one
of the extensive woods of ilex, which are found
in many parts of Spain. In summer, the beauty
of these forests is very great. Wild flowers of
all kinds, myrtles, honeysuckles, cystus, &c.
grow in the greatest profusion, and ornament a
scene doubly delicious from the cool shade
which succeeds to the glare of open and deso-
late plains, under a burning sun. Did not the
monumental crosses, erected on every spot
where a traveller has fallen by the hands of
robbers, bring gloomy ideas to the mind, and
keep the eye watching every turn, and scour-
ing every thicket, without allowing it to repose
on the beauties that court it on all sides, Spain
would afford many a pleasant and romantic
tour. Wild boars, and deer, and a few wolves,
are found in these forests. Birds of all kinds,
hawks, kites, vultures, storks, cranes, and
bustards, are exceedingly numerous in most
parts of the country. Game, especially rabbits,
is so abundant in these mountains, that many
people live by shooting; and though the num-
ber of dogs and ferrets probably exceeds that
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 183
of houses in every village, I heard many com-
plaints of annual depredations on the crops.
We had traversed some miles of dreary rocky
ground, without a tree, and hardly any verdure
to soften its aspect, when from a deep valley,
formed by two barren mountains, we disco-
vered Olbera, on the top of a third, higher than
the rest, and more rugged and steep than any
we had hitherto passed. Both the approach
and the view of the town were so perfectly in
character with what we knew of the inhabit-
ants, that the idea of spending a week on that
spot became gloomy and uncomfortable at
that moment.
The rustic and almost savage manners of the
noblesse of Olbera are unparalleled in Anda-
lusia. Both gentlemen and peasants claim a
wild independence, a liberty of misrule for
their town, the existence of which betrays the
real weakness which never fails to attend des-
potism. An Andalusian proverb desires you to
" Kill your man and fly to Olbera" Mata al
hombrey vete a Olbera. A remarkable instance
of the impunity with which murder is com-
mitted in that town occurred two years before
our visit. The alguacil mayor, a law-officer of
the first rank, was shot dead by an unknown
hand, when retiring to his house from an even-
ing tertulia. He had offended the chief of a
184 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
party for they have here their Capulets and
Montagues, though I could never discover a
Juliet who was known to have formerly dis-
patched another man in a similar way ; and
no doubt existed in the town, that Lobillo had
either killed the alguacil, or paid the assassin.
The expectation, however, of his acquittal was
as general as the belief of his guilt. To the
usual dilatoriness of the judicial forms of the
country, to the corruption of the scriveners or
notaries who, in taking down, most artfully
alter the written evidence upon which the
judges ground their decision, was added the
terror of Lobillo's name and party, whose ven-
geance was dreaded by the witnesses. We
now found him at the height of his power ; and
he was one of the persons examined in evidence
of the noble birth and family honours of the
candidate in whose behalf my friend had re-
ceived the commission of his college. Lobillo
is a man between fifty and sixty, with a
countenance on which every evil passion is
marked in indelible characters. He was, in
earlier life, renowned for his forwardness in the
savage rioting which to this day forms the chief
amusement of the youth of this town. The
fact is, that the constant use of spirits keeps
many of them in a state of habitual intoxica-
tion. One cannot cross the threshold of a
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 185
house at Olbera without being presented with
a glass of brandy, which it would be an affront to
refuse. The exploits performed at their drink-
ing-bouts constitute the traditional chronicle of
the town, and are recounted with great glee by
young and old. The idea of mirth is asso-
ciated by the fashionables of Olbera with a rude-
ness that often degenerates into downright bar-
barity. The sports of the field are generally
terminated by a supper at one of the cortijos,
or farm-houses of the gentry, where the gra-
cioso or wit of the company is expected to pro-
mote some practical joke when mischief is rife
among the guests. The word culebra, for in-
stance, is the signal for putting out the lights,
and laying about with the first thing that
comes to hand, as if trying to kill the snake
which is the pretended cause of the alarm.
The stomachs of the party are, on other oc-
casions, tried with a raw hare or kid, of
which no one dares refuse to eat his share :
and it is by no means uncommon to pro-
pose the alternative of losing a tooth, or pay-
ing a fine.
The relations of the young man whose pedi-
gree was to be examined by my friend, made
it a point to entertain us, by rotation, every
night with a dance. At these parties there
was no music but a guitar, and some male and
186 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
female voices. Two or four couples stood up
for seguidillas, a national dance, not unlike the
fandango, which was, not long since, modified
into the bolero, by a dancing-master of that
name, a native of the province of Murcia, from
which it was originally called Seguidillas Mur-
cianas. The dancers, rattling their castanets,
move at the sound of a single voice, which
sings couplets of four verses, with a burthen of
three, accompanied by musical chords that,
combining the six strings of the guitar into
harmony, are incessantly struck with the nails
of the right hand. The singers relieve each
other, every one using different words to the
same tune. The subject of these popular
compositions, of which a copious, though not
very elegant collection is preserved in the me-
mory of the lower classes, is love ; and they
are generally appropriate to the sex of the
singers.
The illumination of the room consisted of a
candil a rude lamp of cast-iron, hung up by
a hook on an upright piece of wood fixed on
a three-footed stool, the whole of plain deal.
Some of the ladies wore their mantillas crossed
upon the chin so as to conceal their features.
A woman in this garb is called tapada ; and the
practice of that disguise, which was very
common under the Austrian dynasty, is still
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 187
preserved by a few females in some of our
country-towns. I have seen them at Osuna
and El Arahal, covered from head to foot with
a black woollen veil falling on both sides of
the face, and crossed so closely before it that
nothing could be perceived but the gleaming
of the right eye placed just behind the aper-
ture. Our old dramatic writers found in the
tapadas an inexhaustible resource for their
plots. As the laws of honour protected a
veiled lady from the intrusions of curiosity,
jealousy was thus perpetually mocked by the
very objects that were the main source of its
alarms.
My introduction, at the first evening-party,
to one of the ladies of Olbera, will give you
an idea of the etiquette of that town. A young
gentleman, the acknowledged gracioso of the
upper ranks, a character which in those parts
must unite that of Jirst bully to support it,
had from the day of our arrival taken us under
his patronage, and engaged to do for us the
honours of the place. His only faults were,
drinking like a fish, and being as quarrelsome
as a bull-dog ; au rests, he was a kind-hearted
soul, and would serve a friend the whole
length of the broad-sword, which, according
to the good old fashion, he constantly carried
under the left arm, concealed by the large
188 LETTERS FHOM SPAJX.
foldings of his cloak. At the dances he was
master of the ceremonies, and, as such, he
introduced us to the company. We had not
yet seated ourselves, when Don Juan de la
Rosa such was our patron's name surprised
me with the question, which of the present
ladies I preferred to sit by. Thinking it was
a jest, I made a suitable answer ; but I soon
found he was serious. As it was not for me to
innovate, or break through the laudable cus-
toms of Olbera, no other cause remained for
hesitation but the difficulty of the choice.
Difficult it was indeed ; not, however, from
the balanced influence of contending beauty,
but the formidable host of either coy or grin-
ning faces, which nearly filled one side of the
room. To take my post by one of the rustic
nymphs, and thus engage to keep up a regular
flirtation for the evening, was more, I confess,
than my courage allowed me. Reversing,
therefore, the maxim which attributes increased
horror to things unknown, I begged to be in-
troduced to a tapada who sat in a corner, pro-
vided a young man of the town, who was at
that moment speaking with her, had not a par-
amount claim to the place. The word was
scarcely spoken, when my friend, Don Juan,
advanced with a bold step, and, addressing his
townsman with the liberty of an established
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 189
gracioso, declared it was not fit for a clown
to take that place instead of the stranger. The
young man, who happened to be a near rela-
tion of the lady, gave up his chair very good-
humouredly, and I was glad to rind that the
airiness and superior elegance of shape, which
led me to the choice, had directed me to a
gentlewoman. My veiled talking partner was
highly amused I will not say flattered with
what she chose to call my blunder, and, pre-
tending to be old and ugly, brought into full
play all my Spanish gallantry. The evening
was passed less heavily than I dreaded ; and
during our stay at Olbera we gave a decided
preference to the lady of whom I had thus
strangely declared myself the cortejo pro tern-
pore. She was a native of Malaga, whom her
husband, an officer on half-pay, had induced
to reside in his native town, which she most
cordially detested. Perhaps you wish to know
the reason of her disguise at the dance.
Moved by a similar curiosity I ventured to
make the inquiry, when I learned that, for
, want of time to dress, she had availed herself
of the custom of the country, which makes
the mantilla a species of dishabille fit for an
evening party.
In the intervals of the dance we were some-
times treated with dramatic scenes, of which
190 LETTERS FROM SPAIX.
the dialogue is composed on the spot by the
actors. This amusement is not uncommon in
country-towns. It is known by the name of
juegos a word literally answering to plays.
The actors are in the habit of performing to-
gether, and consequently do not find it difficult
to go through their parts without much hesita-
tion. Men in women's clothes act the female
characters. The truth is, that far from being
surprised at the backwardness of the ladies to
join actively in the amusement, the wit and
humour of the juegos is such, that one only
wonders how any modest woman can be pre-
sent at the performance.
One night the dance was interrupted by the
hoarse voice of our worthy friend Don Juan,
who happened to be in the kitchen on a visit
to a favourite jar of brandy. The ladies, though
possessed of strong nerves, shewed evident
symptoms of alarm ; and we all hurried out of
the room, anxious to ascertain the cause of the
threatening tones we had heard. Upon our
coming to the hall, we found the doughty hero
standing at a window with a cocked gun in
his hands, sending forth a volley of oaths, and
protesting he would shoot the first man who
approached his door. The assault, however,
which he had thus gallantly repulsed, being
now over, he soon became cool enough to in-
LETTERS FHOM SPAIN.
form us of the circumstances. Two or three
individuals of the adverse party, who were taking
their nightly rounds under the windows of their
mistresses, hearing the revel at Rosa's house,
were tempted to interrupt it by just setting
fire to the door of the entrance-hall. The house
might, in a short time, have been in flames, but
for the unquenchable thirst of the owner, which
so seasonably drew him from the back to the
front of the building.
We were once retiring home at break of day,
when Don Juan, who never quitted us, insisted
upon our being introduced at that moment to
one of two brothers of the name of Ribera, who
had, the evening before, arrived from his farm.
Remonstrance was in vain : Don Juan crossed
the street, and " the wicket opening with a
latch," in primitive simplicity, we beheld one
of the most renowned braggadocios of Olbera
lying in bed, with a gun by his side. Ribera,
so unceremoniously disturbed, could not help
greeting the visitors in rather rough language ;
but he was soon appeased, on perceiving that
we were strangers. He sat up in his bed, and
handed to me a tumbler of brandy, just filled
from the ever-present green jar that stood
within his reach upon a deal table. The life I
was leading had given me a severe cough, and
the muzzle of Ribera's gun close to my head
192 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
would scarcely have alarmed me more than the
brim-full rummer with which I was threatened.
A terrible fit of coughing, however, came to my
assistance ; and Don Juan interposing in my
favour, I was allowed to lay down the glass.
The facetiousness of the two Riberas is
greatly admired in their town. These loving
brothers had, on a certain occasion, gone to
bed at their cortijo (farm), forgetting to put out
the cand'il, or lamp, hung up at the opposite end
of the hall. The first who had retired urged
that it was incumbent on him who sat up latest,
to have left every thing in proper order; but
the offender was too lazy to quit his bed, and a
long contest ensued. After much, and probably
not very temperate disputing, a bright thought
seemed to have crossed the younger brother.
And so it was indeed ; for stopping short in the
argument, he grasped the gun, which, as usual,
stood by his bed-side, took a sure aim, and put
an end both to the dispute and its subject, by
shooting down the candil. The humour of this
potent conclusion was universally applauded at
Olbera. I have, been assured that the same
extinguisher is still, occasionally, resorted to
by the brothers ; and a gun heard in the night,
infallibly reminds the inhabitants of the Ribe-
ras' lamp.*
* See note G.
LETTER VI.
Seville, - 1801.
MY residence in this town, after visiting Ol-
bera, was short and unpleasant. The yellow-
fever, which had some months before appeared
at Cadiz, began to shew itself in our large,
suburb of Triana, on the other side of the Gua-
dalquivir. As no measures were taken to pre-
vent communication with Cadiz, it is supposed
that the infection was brought by some of the^
numerous seafaring people that inhabit the vi-
cinity of the river. The progress of the malady
was slow at first, and confined to one side of
the street where it began. Meetings of all the
physicians were convened by the chief ma-
gistrates, who, though extremely arbitrary in
matters of daily occurrence, are, in Spain, very
timid and dilatory on any extraordinary emer-
gency. Unconscious of the impending danger,
the people flocked to these meetings to amuse
194 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
themselves at the expense of our doctors, who
are notoriously quarrelsome and abusive when
pitted against each other. A few of the more
enlightened among them ventured to declare
their conviction that the fever was infectious ;
but their voice was drowned in the clamour of
a large majority who wished to indulge the
stupid confidence of the inhabitants. The dis-
ease, in the mean time, crossed the river ; and
following the direction of the street where it
originally appeared at Triana now quite over-
run by the infection began its ravages within
the ancient walls of our town. It was already
high time to take alarm, and symptoms of it
were shewn by the chief authorities. Their
measures, however, cannot fail to strike you as
perfectly original. No separation of the infected
from the healthy part of the town : no arrange-
ment for confining and relieving the sick poor.
The governor who, by such means, had suc-
ceeded in stopping the progress of the fever
would have been called to account for the se-
verity of his measures, and his success against
the infection turned into a demonstration that
it never existed. Anxious, therefore, to avoid
every questionable step in circumstances of
such magnitude, the civil authorities wisely re-
solved to make an application to the archbishop
and chapter for the solemn prayers called Ro-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 105
gativas, which are used in times of public afflic-
tion. This request was granted without delay,
and the Rogativa performed at the cathedral for
nine consecutive days, after sunset.
The gloom of that magnificent temple, scarcely
broken by the light of six candles on the high
altar, and the glimmering of the lamps in the
aisles, combined with the deep and plaintive
tones of forty singers chanting the penitential
psalms, impressed the throng of supplicants
with the strongest feelings which superstition
can raise upon fear and distress.
When the people observed the infection
making a rapid progress in many parts of the
town, notwithstanding the due performance of
the usual prayers, they began to cast about for
a more effectual method of obtaining super-
natural assistance. It was early suggested by
many of the elderly inhabitants, that a fragment
of the true Cross, or Lignum Crucis, one of the
most valuable relics possessed by the cathedral
of Seville, should be exhibited from the lofty
tower called Giralda; for they still remembered
when, at the view of that miraculous splinter,
myriads of locusts which threatened destruc-
tion to the neighbouring fields rose like a thick
% cloud, and conveyed themselves away, pro-
bably to some infidel country. The Lignum
Crucis, it was firmly believed, would, in like
o 2
196 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
manner, purify the atmosphere, and put an end
to the infection. Others, however, without
meaning any disparagement to the holy relic,
had turned their eyes to a large wooden cruci-
fix, formerly in great repute, and now shame-
fully neglected, on one of the minor altars of
the Austin Friars without the gates of the town.
The effectual aid given by that crucifix in the
plague of 1649 was upon record. This won-
derful image had, it seems, finally stopped the
infection, just when one half of the population
of Seville had been swept away ; thus evi-
dently saving the other half from the same fate.
On this ground, and by a most natural analogy,
the hope was very general, that a timely exhi-
bition of the crucifix through the streets would
give instant relief to the town.*
Both these schemes were so sound and ra-
tional, that the chief authorities, unwilling to
shew an undue partiality to either, wisely de-
termined to combine them into one great lus-
tration. A day was, accordingly, fixed for a
solemn procession to conduct the crucifix from
the convent to the cathedral, and to ascend the
tower for the purpose of blessing the four car-
dinal winds with the Lignum Crucis. On that
day, the chapter of the cathedral, attended by
* Sec Note H.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 197
the civil governor, the judges, the inquisitors,
and the town corporation, repaired to the con-
vent of Saint Augustin, and, having placed the
crucifix upon a moveable stage covered with
a magnificent canopy, walked before it with
lighted candles in their hands, while the singers,
in a mournful strain, repeated the names of the
saints contained in the Catholic litany, innu-
merable voices joining, after every invocation,
in the accustomed response Or a pro nobis.
Arrived at the cathedral, the image was ex-
posed to public adoration within the presby-
tery, or space reserved for the ministering
clergy, near the high altar. After this the
dean, attended by the chapter, the inferior mi-
nisters of the church, and the singers, moved
in solemn procession towards the entrance of
the tower, and, in the same order, ascended
the five-and-twenty inclined planes, which af-
ford a broad and commodious access to the
open belfry of that magnificent structure. The
worship paid to any fragment of the true Cross
is next in degree to that which is due to the
consecrated host. On the view of the priest in
his robes at one of the four central arches of
the majestic steeple, the multitude who had
crowded to the neighbourhood of the cathedral
from all parts of the city, fell upon their knees,
their eyes streaming with tears : tears, indeed,
198 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
which that unusual sight would have drawn
from the weak and superstitious on any other
occasion, but which, in the present affliction,
the stoutest heart could hardly repress. An
accidental circumstance heightened the im-
pressiveness of the scene. The day, one of 'the
hottest of an Andalusian summer, had been over-
cast with electric clouds. The priest had scarce-
ly begun to make the sign of the cross with the
golden vase which contained the Lignum Crucis,
when one of the tremendous thunder-storms, so
awful in southern climates, burst upon the trem-
bling multitude. A few considered this pheno-
menon as a proof that the public prayers were
heard, and looked upon the lightning as the in-
strumentwhich was to disperse the cause of the
infection. But the greatest number read in the
frowns of the sky the unappeased anger of Hea-
ven, which doomed them to drain the bitter
cup that was already at their lips. Alas ! they
were not deceived. That doom had been sealed
when Providence allowed ignorance and super-
stition to fix their dwelling among us ; and the
evils which my countrymen feared from a pre-
ternatural interposition of the avenging powers
above, were ready to arise as the natural con-
sequences of the means they had employed to
avert them. The immense concourse from all
parts of the town had, probably, condensed
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 199
into a focus the scattered seeds of the infection.
The heat, the fatigue, the anxiety of a whole
day spent in this striking, though absurd, reli-
gious ceremony, had the most visible and fatal
effect on the public health. Eight and forty
hours after the procession, the complaint had
left but few houses un visited. The deaths in-
creased in a ten-fold proportion, and at the
end of two or three weeks the daily number
was from two to three hundred.
Providence spared me and my best friend by
the most unforeseen combination of circum-
stances. Though suffering under an obstinate
ague, Leandro so he is called at our private
club had determined not to quit his college,
at the head of which he was placed for that
year. His family, on the other hand, had for
some time resided at Alcala de Guadaira, a vil-
lage beautifully situated within twelve miles of
Seville. Alarmed at the state of the town, and
unwilling to leave my friend to perish, either
by the infection, or the neglect to which the
general consternation exposed an invalid, I pre-
vailed upon him to join his family, and attended
him thither. This was but a few, days before
the religious ceremony, which I have described
from the narrative of eye-witnesses. It was
my intention to have returned to Seville ; but
the danger was now so imminent, that it would
200 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
have been madness to encounter it without ne-
cessity. Thus a visit which I meant for a week,
was inevitably prolonged to six months.
For you, however, who love detail in the de-
scription of this hitherto little known country,
my time was not spent in vain. Yet I must
begin by a fact which will be of more interest
to my old friend Doctor than yourself.
Alcala de Guadaira is a town containing a
population of two thousand inhabitants, and
standing on a high hilly spot to the north-east
of Seville. The greatest part of the bread
consumed in this city comes daily from Alcala,
where the abundant and placid stream of the
Guadaira invites to the construction of water-
mills. Many of the inhabitants being bakers,
and having no market but Seville, were under
the necessity of repairing thither during the
infection. It is not with us as in England,
where every tradesman practically knows the
advantages of the division of labour, and is at
liberty to consult his own convenience in the
sale of his articles. The bakers, the butchers,
the gardeners, and the farmers, are here ob-
liged to sell in separate markets, where they
generally spend the whole day waiting for cus-
tomers. Owing to this regulation of the police,
about sixty men, and double that number of
mules, leave Alcala every day with the dawn,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 201
and stand till the evening in two rows, inclosed
with iron railings, at the Plaza del Pan. The
constant communication with people from all
parts of the town, and so long an exposure to
the atmosphere of an infected place, might
have been supposed powerful enough to com-
municate the disease. We, certainly, were in
daily apprehension of its appearance at Alcala.
So little, however, can we calculate the effects
of unknown causes, that of the people that thus
braved the contagion, only one, who passed a
night in Seville, caught the disease and died.
All the others, no less than the rest of the vil-
lage, continued to enjoy the usual degree of
health, which, probably owing to its airy situ-
ation, is excellent at all times.
The daily accounts we received from our
city, independent of the danger to which we
believed ourselves exposed, were such as would
cast a gloom over the most selfish and unfeel-
ing. Superstition, however, as if the prospect
had not been sufficiently dark and dismal, was
busy among us, increasing the terrors which
weighed down the minds of the people. Two
brothers, both clergymen, wealthy, proud, con-
ceited of the jargon they mistook for learning,
and ambitious of power under the cloak of zeal,
had, upon the first appearance of the fever, re-
treated to Alcala, where they kept a country-
202 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
house. Two more odious specimens of the
pampered, thorough-bred, full-grown Spanish
bigot, never appeared in the ranks of the
clergy. The eldest, a dignitary of the church,
was a selfish devotee, whose decided taste for
good living, and mortal aversion to discomfort,
had made him calculate with great nicety how,
by an economy of pleasure in this world, he
might secure a reasonable share of it in the
next. But whatever degree of self-denial was
necessary to keep him from gross misconduct,
he amply repaid himself in the enjoyment of
control over the consciences and conduct of
others.
From the comparative poverty of the parish
priests, and the shade into which they are
thrown by the upper clergy, the power of the
first is so limited, that the most bigoted and
violent among them can give but little trouble
to the laity. The true priest of old times is
only to be found among those ecclesiastics,
who to a dignified office join that degree of fa-
naticism which makes men conceive themselves
commissioned by Heaven to weed the world of
evil, and tear up by the roots whatever offends
their privileged and infallible eyes. Thus it
was, for instance, that the holy personage at
Alcala claimed and exercised a right to ex-
clude from church such females as, by a showy
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 203
dress, were apt to disturb the abstracted yet
susceptible minds of the clergy. The lady of
a judge was, within my recollection, turned by
this proud bigot out of the cathedral of Seville,
in the presence of a multitude assembled for the
ceremonies of the Passion-week. The husband,
whose displeasure would have brought ruin on a
more humble individual, was obliged to devour
this insult in silence. It should be observed,
by the way, that as the walking-dress of the
Spanish females absolutely precludes immo-
desty, the conduct of this religious madman
admits no excuse or palliation. Yet this is so
far from being a singular instance, that, what
sumptuary laws would never be able to ac-
complish, the rude and insolent zeal of a few
priests has fully obtained in every part of
Spain. Our females, especially those of the
better classes, never venture to church in any
dress but such as habit has made familiar to
the eyes of the zealots.
Whatever be the feelings that produce it,
there is, in Spain, a sort of standing crusade
against the fair sex, which our priests, except
such as have been secretly gained over to the
enemy, carry on incessantly, though not with
the same vigour, at all times. The main sub-
ject of contention is a right claimed by the
clergy to regulate the dress of the ladies, and
204 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
prevent the growth of such arts of charming as
might endanger the peace of the church. Upon
the appearance of a new fashion the " drum
ecclesiastic" never fails to sound the war-note.
Innumerable are the sermons I heard in my
younger days against silk shoes for the Spa-
nish females have the extravagance to use them
out of doors the wearing of which, especially
embroidered with silk or gold, was declared
by the soundest divines to be a mortal sin. Pa-
tience, however, and that watchful perseve-
rance with which nature has armed the weaker
sex against the tyranny of the stronger, have
gradually obtained a toleration for silk shoes,
while taste has extenuated the sin by banish-
ing the embroidery. Yet the Demon of Mil-
linery had lately set up another stumbling-
block, by slily suggesting to the ladies that
their petticoats were monstrous long, and con-
cealed those fairy feet and ankles which are
the pride of Andalusia. This evil was the more
dangerous, as its progress was gradual and
imperceptible. The petticoats shrunk at first
by barleycorns; half an inch was then pared
off by some bolder sempstress, till at length
the ground, the former place of safety for con-
secrated eyes, was found thick set with snares.
In vain have the most powerful preachers thun-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 205
dered against this abomination ; nor did it
avail that some of our bishops, deeming the
occasion worthy of their interference, grasped
the long-neglected pen to enter a most solemn
protest against the profaneness of the female
dress. But the case seemed hopeless. A point
gained upon petticoats was sure to be lost on
top-knots ; and when the pious were triumph-
ing on the final subjection of projecting stays,
a pin threw them into utter confusion by alter-
ing its position on the orthodox neck-kerchief.
Often had some great calamity been foretold
from the pulpit as the punishment of the incor-
rigible perverseness of our females ; and, on
the first appearance of the fever, there was but
little doubt among the chosen few as to its real
cause. Many a stitch was undone at Seville,
and many a flounce torn off, by the same pretty
hand that, but a few days before, had distri-
buted its foldings with a conscious feeling of
its future airiness and light flutterings. The
pin which, in Spain, forces the cambric ker-
chief to do, both morning and evening, the
transient morning duty of your ruffs and spen-
cers that mysterious pin which vibrates daily
at the toilette under the contending influence
of vanity and delicacy the pin, in short, which,
on our females, acts as the infallible barometer
206 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
of devotion, had risen to the highest point of
dryness, without, alas! checking the progress
of the disease.
Our two divines, fearful of being swept
away with the guilty, were, at this time, per-
fectly outrageous in their zeal to bring the
bakers' wives at Alcala. to a due sense of the
evil influence of their glaring, bushy top-knots
and short petticoats. Having, therefore, with
little ceremony to the vicar, taken possession
of the parish church, they began a course of
preaching for nine days, known by the name of
Novena, a definite number which, with many
other superstitions, has been applied to reli-
gious rites among the Catholics since the times
of Roman paganism.
Most of the Spanish villages possess some
miraculous image generally of the Virgin
Mary which is the palladium of the inhabit-
ants. These tutelar deities are of a very rude
and ancient workmanship, as it seems to have
been the case with their heathen prototypes.
The " Great Diana" of the Alcalaians is a small,
ugly, wooden figure, nearly black with age
and the smoke of the lamp which burns inces-
santly before it, dressed up in a tunic and
mantle of silver or gold tissue, and bearing a
silver crown. It is distinguished from the in-
numerable host of wooden virgins by the title
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 207
of Virgen delAguila "the Virgin of the Eagle,"
and is worshipped on a high, romantic spot,
where^stood a strong fortress of the Moors, of
which large ruins are still visible. A church
was erected, probably soon after the conquest
of Andalusia, on the area of the citadel. A
spring-well of the most delicious water is seen
within the precincts of the temple, to which
the natives resort for relief in all sorts of
distempers. The extreme purity of both air
and water, on that elevated spot, may indeed
greatly contribute to the recovery of invalids,
for which the Virgin gets all the credit.
The Novena, which was to avert the infec-
tion from the village, would have been ineffi-
cient without the presence of the Eagle pa-
troness, to whom it was dedicated. The image
was, accordingly, brought down to the parish
church in a solemn procession. The eldest
Missionary for such priests as preach, not for
a display of eloquence, but the conversion of
sinners, assume that title among us having a
shrill, disagreeable voice, and being apt, when
he addressed the people, to work himself into
a feverish excitement approaching to madness,
generally devolved that duty on his brother,
while he devoted himself to the confessional.
The brother is, indeed, cast in the true mould of
a popular preacher, such as can make a power-
LETTERS FROM
ful impression on the lower classes of Spain.
His person is strong, his countenance almost
handsome, his voice more loud than pleasing.
He has, in fact, all the characteristics of an
Andalusian Mojo: jet black passionate eyes, a
shining bluish beard darkening his cheeks from
within an inch of his long eye-lashes, and a
swaggering gait which, in the expressive idiom
of the country, gives such as move with it the
name of Perdonavidas Life-sparers, as if other
people owed their lives to the mercy, or con-
tempt of these heroes. The effects of his
preaching were just what people expect on si-
milar occasions. A Missionary feels baffled and
disappointed when he is not interrupted by
groans, and some part of the female audience
will not go into hysterics. If he has a grain of
spirit about him, such a perverse indifference
nettles him into a furious passion, and he
turns the insensibility of his hearers into a
visible proof of their reprobate state. Thus it
often happens, that, the people measuring their
spiritual danger by the original dulness or in-
comprehensibility of the sermon, the final
triumph of the missionary is in exact propor-
tion to his absurdity. To make these wild
discourses more impressive, as well as to suit
the convenience of the labouring classes, they
are commonly delivered after sunset. Our
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 209
orator, it is true, omitted the exhibition of a
soul in hell-flames, which a few years ago was
regularly made from the pulpit in a transparent
picture ; but he worked up the feelings of the
audience by contrivances less disgusting and
shocking to common sense. Among others he
fixed a day for collecting all the children of the
town under seven years of age, before the
image of the Virgin. The parents, as well as
all others who had attained the age of moral
responsibility, were declared to be unworthy
of addressing themselves in supplication, and
therefore excluded from the centre of the
church, which was reserved for the throng of
innocent suppliants.
When the first period of nine days had been
spent in this mockery of common sense and
religion, the fertile minds of our missionaries
were not at a loss to find a second course of
the same pious mummery, and so on till the
infection had ceased at Seville. The preserva-
tion of the village from the fever which, more
or less, had existed for three or four months in
the neighbouring towns, you will easily believe
was. attributed by the preachers to their own
exertions. The only good effect, however,
which I observed, in consequence of their ser-
mons, was the increased attendance of the
male part of the population . at the Rosario de
p
210 LETTERS FROM SPA IK.
Madrugada the Dawn Rosary one of the few
useful and pleasing customs which religion has
introduced in Spain.
It is an established practice in our country-
towns to awake the labouring population be-
fore the break of day, that they may be early
in readiness to begin their work, especially in
the corn-fields, which are often at the distance
of six or eight miles from the labourers' dwell-
ings. Nothing but religion, however, could
give a permanency to this practice. Conse-
quently a rosary, or procession, to sing praises
to the Virgin Mary before the dawn, has been
established among us from time immemorial.
A man with a good voice, active, sober, and
fond of early rising, is either paid, or volunteers
his services, to perambulate the streets an hour
before day-break, knocking at the doors of such
as wish to attend the procession, and inviting-
all to quit their beds and join in the worship of
the Mother of God. This invitation is made
in short couplets, set to a very simple melody,
and accompanied by the pretty and varied
tinkling of a hand-bell, beating time to the
tune. The effect of the bell and voice, especi-
ally after a long winter-night, has always been
very pleasing to me. Nor is the fuller chorus
of the subsequent procession less so. The
chant, by being somewhat monotonous, har-
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. 211
monizes with the stillness of the hour; and
without chasing away the soft slumbers of the
morning, relieves the mind from the ideas of
solitude and silence, and whispers life and ac-
tivity returning with the approaching day.
The fever having stopped its ravages about
the end of autumn, and nearly disappeared a
few weeks before Christmas, my friend and
myself prepared to return home. I shall never
forget our melancholy arrival in this town on
the last evening of December. Besides the
still existing danger of infection to those who
had been absent, there was a visible change in
the aspect of the town, no less than in the
looks and manner of the inhabitants, which
could not but strike the most thoughtless on
the first approach to that scene of recent woe
and misery. An unusual stillness reigned in
every street; and the few pale faces which
moved in them, conjured up in the mind a vivid
representation of the late distress. The heart
seemed to recoil from the meeting of old ac-
quaintances ; and the signs of mourning were
every where ready to check the first risings of
joy at the approach of friends that had been
spared.
The Sunday after our arrival, we went, ac-
cording to custom, to the public walk on the
banks of the river. But the thousands who
p'2
212 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
made it their resort before the late calamity,
had now absolutely deserted it. At the end of
the walk was the burying-ground, which, dur-
ing the great mortality, had been appointed for
that quarter of the city. The prevalent custom
of burying in vaults within the churches kept
the town unprovided with an appropriate place
for interment out of the walls; and a portion of
waste land, or common, now contained the re-
mains of ten thousand inhabitants, who in their
holiday rambles had, not long before, been
sporting unconsciously over their graves. As
we approached the large mounds, which, with
the lofty cross erected on the turf, were yet the
only marks which distinguished the consecrated
from the common ground, we saw one of the
Rosarios, or processions in honour of the Virgin,
slowly advancing along the avenue of the pub-
lic walk. Many who formerly frequented that
place for recreation, had, under the impression
of grief and superstitious terror, renounced
every species of amusement, and marshalling
themselves in two files, preceded by a cross,
and closed by the picture of the Virgin on a
standard, repaired every Sunday to the princi-
pal place of burial, where they said prayers
for the dead. Four or five of these processions,
consisting either of males or females, passed
towards the cemetery as we were returning.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 213
The melancholy tone in which they incessantly
sang the Ave Maria and the Lord's Prayer, as
they glided along a former scene of life and
animation, and the studied plainness of the
dresses, contrasted with the gay apparel which
the same persons used to display on that very
spot, left us no wish to prolong our walk.
Among the ladies whose penitent dress was
most striking, we observed many who, not sa-
tisfied with mere plainness of attire, had, pro-
bably under a private vow, clothed themselves
in a stuff peculiar to some of the religious
orders. The grey mixture used by the Fran-
ciscans was most prevalent. Such vows are
indeed very common in cases of danger from
illness ; but the number and class of the fe-
males whom we found submitting to this species
of penance, shewed the extent and pressure of
the past affliction.
So transient, however, are the impressions of
superstitious fear when unsupported by the
presence of its object, that a few months have
sufficed nearly to obliterate the signs of the
past terror. The term of the vows having ex-
pired with most, our females have recovered
their wonted spirits, and put aside the dull
weeds of their holy patrons. Many, it is pro-
bable, have obtained from their confessors a
commutation of the rash engagement, by means
214 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
of a few pence paid towards the expenses of
any war that may arise between his Catholic
Majesty and Turks or infidels a Crusade, for
which government collects a vast yearly sum,
in exchange for various ghostly privileges and
indulgences, which the King buys from the
Pope at a much cheaper rate than he retails
them to his loving subjects.
One loss alone will, I fear, be permanent, or
of long duration to the gay part of this town.
The theatrical representations, which, on the
first appearance of the epidemic fever, were
stopped, more by the clamour of the preachers
than the apprehensions of the inhabitants, will
not be resumed for years. The opinion for-
merly entertained by a comparatively small
number, that the opening of the theatre at Se-
ville had never failed to draw the vengeance of
heaven sometimes on its chief supporters, some-
times on the whole town, has been wonderfully
spread under the influence of the last visitation;
and government itself, arbitrary and despotic
as it is among us, would have to pause before
any attempt to involve this most religious city
in the unpardonable guilt of allowing a com-
pany of comedians within its walls.
LETTERS MtOAI SPAIN. 215
LETTER VII.
Seville, - 1803.
I HAVE connected few subjects with more
t'eelings of disgust and pain than that of the
Religious Orders in this country. The evil of
this institution, as it relates to the male sex, is
so unmixed, and unredeemed by any advan-
tage, and its abuse, as applied to females, so
common and cruel, that I recoil involuntarily
from the train of thought which I feel rising in
my mind. But the time approaches, or my
wishes overstep my judgment, when this and
such gross blemishes of society will be finally
extirpated from the face of the civilized world.
The struggle must be long and desperate ; and
neither the present nor the ensuing generation
are likely to see the end. Let me, howeve^
flatter myself with the idea, that by exposing
the mischievous effects of the existing system,
I am contributing no matter how little to-
216 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
wards its final destruction. Such a notion
alone can give me courage to proceed.
Gibbon has delineated, with his usual accu-
racy, the origin and progress of monastic life*;
and to his elegant pages I must refer you for
information on the historical part of my sub-
ject. But his account does not come down to
the establishment of the Mendicant Orders of
Friars. The distinction, however, between
these and the Monks is not very important.
The Monks, as the original name implies, re-
tired from the world to live in perfect solitude.
As these fanatics increased, many associations
were formed, whose members, professing the
same rule of religious life, were distinguished
by the appropriate name of Coenobites t- When,
at length, the frantic spirit which drove thou-
sands to live like wild beasts in the deserts, had
relaxed, and the original Eremites were gradu-
ally gathered into the more social establish-
ment of convents, the original distinction was
forgotten, and the primitive name of Monks be-
came prevalent. Still holding up their claims
to be considered Anachorites, even when they
had become possessed of lands and princely
incomes, their monasteries were founded in the
neighbourhood, but never within the precincts
* Chapter xxxvii. t Persons who live in common.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 217
of towns ; and though the service of their
churches is splendid, it is not intended for the
benefit of the people, and the Monks are sel-
dom seen either in the pulpit or the confes-
sional.
The Friars date their origin from the begin-
ning of the thirteenth century, and were insti-
tuted for the express purpose of acting as auxi-
liaries to the clergy. Saint Dominic, the most
odious, and Saint Francis, the most frantic of
modern saints, enlisted their holy troops with-
out any limitation of number ; for, by quarter-
ing them on the productive population of Chris-
tendom, the founders took no concern for the
daily supply of their numerous followers.
The Dominicans, however, having succeeded
in the utter destruction of the Albigenses, and
subsequently monopolized, for more than three
centuries, the office of inquisitors, enriched
themselves with the spoils of their victims, and
are in the enjoyment of considerable wealth.
The Franciscans continue to thrive upon alms ;
and relying on the promise made to Saint Fran-
cis in a vision, that his followers should never
feel want, they point to the abundant supplies
which flow daily into their convents as a per-
manent miracle which attests the celestial ori-
gin of their order. With the historical proofs
of Saint Francis's financial vision I confess
218 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
myself perfectly unacquainted. But when I
consider that the general or chief of these holy
beggars derives from the collections daily made
by his friars a personal income of twenty thou-
sand a year, I cannot withhold my assent to
its genuineness ; for who, except a supernatural
being, could possess such a thorough know-
ledge of the absurdity of mankind ?
It would be tedious to enter into a descrip-
tion of the numerous orders comprehended
under the two classes of Monks and Friars.
The distinguishing characters of the first are
wealth, ease, and indulgence those of the last,
vulgarity, filth, and vice. I shall only add
that, among the Monks, the Benedictines are
at the top of the scale for learning and decency
of manners, while the Hieronimites deservedly
occupy the bottom. To the Friars I am forced
to apply the Spanish proverb " There is little
to choose in a mangy flock." The Franciscans,
however, both from their multitude and their
low habits of mendicity, may be held as the
proper representatives of all that is most ob-
jectionable in the religious orders.
The inveterate superstition which still sup-
ports these institutions among us has lost, of
late, its power to draw recruits to the cloister
from the middle and higher classes. Few
monks, and scarcely a friar, can be found, who
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 219
by taking the cowl, lias not escaped a life of
menial toil. Boys of this rank of life are re-
ceived as novices at the age of fourteen, and
admitted, after a year's probation, to the per-
petual vows of obedience, poverty, and celibacy.
Engagements so discordant with the first laws
of human nature could hardly stand the test of
time, even if they arose from the deepest feel-
ings of enthusiasm. But this affection of the
mind is seldom found in our convents. The
year of noviciate is spent in learning the cant
and gestures of the vilest hypocrisy, as well
as in strengthening, by the example of the
professed young friars, the original gross man-
ners and vicious habits of the probationers.*
The result of such a system is but too visible.
It is a common jest among the friars them-
selves, that in the act of taking the vows,
when the superior of the convent draws the
cowl over the head of the probationer, he uses
the words Tolle verecundiam " Put off shame."
And indeed, were the friars half so true to
their profession as they are to this supposed
injunction, the Church of Rome would really
teem with saints. Shameless in begging, they
share the scanty meal of the labourer, and ex-
tort a portion of every product of the earth
* !Si-i- N()U I.
220 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
from the farmer. Shameless in conduct, they
spread vice and demoralization among the
lower classes, secure in the respect which is
felt for their profession, that they may engage
in a course of profligacy without any risk of
exposure. When an instance of gross miscon-
duct obtrudes itself upon the eyes of the pub-
lic, every pious person thinks it his duty to
hush up the report, and cast a veil on the
transaction. Even the sword of justice is
glanced aside from these consecrated crimi-
nals. I shall not trouble you with more than
two cases, out of a multitude, which prove
the power of this popular feeling.
The most lucrative employment for friars, in
this town, is preaching. I have not the means
to ascertain the number of sermons delivered
at Seville in the course of the year ; but there
is good reason to suppose that the average
cannot be less than twelve a-day. One popu-
lar preacher, a clergyman, I know, who scarce-
ly passes one day without mounting the pulpit,
and reckons on three sermons every four-and-
twenty hours during the last half of Lent.
Of these indefatigable preachers, the great-
est favourite is a young Franciscan friar, called
Padre R z, whose merit consists in a soft
clear-toned voice, a tender and affectionate
manner, and an incredible fluency of language.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 221
Being, by his profession, under a vow of ab-
solute poverty, and the Franciscan rule carry-
ing this vow so far as not to allow the members
of the order to touch money, it was generally
understood that the produce of these aposto-
lical labours was faithfully deposited to be
used in common by the whole religious com-
munity. An incident, however, which lately
came to light, has given us reason to suspect
that we are not quite in the secret of the inter-
nal management of these societies of saintly
paupers, and that individual industry is re-
warded among them with a considerable share
of profits. A young female cousin of the zea-
lous preacher in question, was living quite
alone in a retired part of this town, where her
relative paid her, it should seem, not unfre-
quent visits. Few, however, except her ob-
scure neighbours, suspected her connexion
with the friar, or had the least notion of her
existence. An old woman attended her in the
day-time, and retired in the evening, leaving
her mistress alone in the house. One morning
the street was alarmed by the old servant,
who, having gained admittance, as usual, by
means of a private key, found the young wo-
man dead in her bed, the room and other parts
of the house being stained with blood. It was
clear, indeed, upon a slight inspection of the
222 LETTKKS FROM SPA IX.
body, that no violence had taken place; yet
the powerful interest excited at the moment,
and before measures had been taken to hush
the whole matter, spread the circumstances of
the case all over the town, and brought the
fact to light that the house itself belonged to
the friar, having been purchased by an agent
with the money arising from his sermons. The
hungry vultures of the law would have reaped
an abundant harvest upon any lay individual
who had been involved in such a train of sus-
picious circumstances. But, probably, a pro-
per douceur out of the sermon fees increased
their pious tenderness for the friar ; while he
was so emboldened by the disposition of the
people to shut their eyes on^ every circumstance
which might sully the fair name of a son of
Saint Francis, that, a few days after the event,
he preached a sermon, denouncing the curse of
Heaven on the impious individuals who could
harbour a belief derogatory to his sacred cha-
racter.
Crimes of the blackest description were left
unpunished during the last reign, from a fixed
and avowed determination of the King* not to
inflict the punishment of death upon a priest.
Townsend has mentioned the murder of a young
* Charles III.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 223
lady committed by a friar at San Lucar de
Barrameda ; and I would not repeat the pain-
ful narrative, were it not that my acquaintance
with some of her relatives, as well as with the
spot on which she fell, enables me to give a
more accurate statement.
A young lady, of a very respectable family
in the above-mentioned town, had for her con-
fessor a friar of the Reformed or Unshod Car-
melites. I have often visited the house where
she lived, in front of the convent. Thither her
mother took her every day to mass, and fre-
quently to confession. The priest, a man of
middle age, had conceived a passion- for his
young penitent, which, not venturing to dis-
close, he madly fed by visiting the unsuspect-
ing girl with all the frequency which the
spiritual relation in which he stood towards
her, and the friendship of her parents, allowed
him. The young woman, now about nineteen,
had an offer of a suitable match, which she ac-
cepted with the approbation of her parents.
The day being fixed for the marriage, the bride,
according to custom, went, attended by her
mother, early in the morning to church, to
confess and receive the sacrament. After
giving her absolution, the confessor, stung with
the madness of jealousy, was observed whet-
ting a knife in the kitchen. The unfortunate
224 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
girl had, in the mean time, received the host,
and was now leaving the church, when the
villain, her confessor, meeting her in the porch,
and pretending to speak a few words in her
ear a liberty to which his office entitled him
stabbed her to the heart in the presence of
her mother. The assassin did not endeavour
to escape. He was committed to prison ; and
after the usual delays of the Spanish law, he
was condemned to death. The King, how-
ever, commuted this sentence into a confine-
ment for life in a fortress at Puerto Rico. The
only anxiety ever shewn by the murderer was
respecting the success of his crime. He made
frequent inquiries to ascertain the death of the
young woman ; and the assurance that no man
could possess the object of his passion seemed
to make him happy during the remainder of
a long life.
Instances of enthusiasm are so rare, even in
the most austere orders, that there is strong
ground to suspect its seeds are destroyed by a
pervading corruption of morals. The Obser-
vant Franciscans, the most numerous commu-
nity in this town, have not been able to set
up a living saint after the death, which hap-
pened four or five years since, of the last in
the series of servants to the order, who, for
time immemorial, have been a source of honour
LETTERS FROM SFAItf. 225
and profit to that convent. Besides the lay-
brothers a kind of upper servants under re-
ligious vows, but excluded from the dignity of
holy orders the friars admit some peasants,
under the name of Donados, (Donati, in the
Latin of the middle ages,) who, like their pre-
decessors of servile condition, give themselves
up, as their name expresses it, to the service of
the convent. As these people are now-a-days
at liberty to leave their voluntary servitude,
none are admitted but such as by the weak-
ness of their understanding, and the natural
timidity arising from a degree of imbecility,
are expected to continue for life in a state of
religious bondage. They wear the habit of the
order, and are employed in the most menial of-
fices, except such as, being able to act, or
rather to bear the character of extraordinary
sanctity, are sent about the town to collect
alms for their employers. These idiot saints
are seen daily with a vacillating step, and a
look of the deepest humility, bearing about an
image of the child Jesus, to which a basket for
alms is appended, and offering, not their hand,
which is the privilege of priests, but the end
of their right sleeve, to be kissed by the pious.
To what influence these miserable beings are
sometimes raised, may be learned from a few
particulars of the life of Hermanito Sebastian
Q
220 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
(Little Brother Sebastian) the last but one of
the Franciscan collectors in this town.
During the last years of Philip V. Brother
Sebastian was presented to the Infantes, the
king's sons, that he might confer a blessing
upon them. The courtiers present, observing
that he took most notice of the King's third son,
Don Carlos, observed to him that his respects
were chiefly due to the eldest, who was to be
king. " Nay, nay, (it is reported he answered,
pointing to his favourite) this shall be king-
too." Some time after this interview, Don
Carlos was, by the arrangements which put
an end to the Succession War, made Sovereign
Prince of Parma. Conquest subsequently
raised him to the throne of Naples ; and,
lastly, the failure of direct heirs to his brother
Ferdinand VI. put him in possession of the
crown of Spain. His first and unexpected pro-
motion to the sovereignty of Parma had strongly
impressed Don Carlos with the idea of Sebas-
tian's knowledge of futurity. But when, after
the death of the prophet, he found himself on
the throne of Spain, he thought himself bound
in honour and duty to obtain from the Pope
the Beatification, or Apotheosis, of Little Sebas-
tian. The Church of Rome, however, knowing
the advantages of strict adherence to rules and
forms, especially when a king stands forward
LETTERS FROM SPAI.V. 227
to pay the large fees incident to such trials,
kept on at a pace, compared to which your
Court of Chancery would seem to move with
the velocity of a meteor. But when the day
arrived for the exhibition, before the Holy
Congregation of Cardinals, of all papers what-
ever which might exist in the hand-writing of
the candidate for saintship, and it was found
necessary to lay before their Eminences an ori-
ginal letter, which the King carried about his
person as an amulet, good Carlos found himself
in a most perplexing dilemma. Distracted be-
tween his duty to his ghostly friend, and his
fears of some personal misfortune during the
absence of the letter, he exerted the whole in-
fluence of his crown through the Spanish am-
bassador at Rome, that the trial might proceed
upon the inspection of an authentic copy. The
Pope, however, was inexorable, and nothing
could be done without the autograph. The
king's ministers at home, on the other hand,
finding him restless, and scarcely able to enjoy
the daily amusement of the chase, succeeded,
at length, in bringing about a plan for the exhi-
bition of the letter, which, though attended
with an inevitable degree of anxiety and pain
to his majesty, was, nevertheless, the most
likely to spare his feelings. The most active
and trusty of the Spanish messengers was
Q2
228 LKTTEKS FROM SPAIN.
chosen to convey the invaluable epistle to
Rome, and his speed was secured by the pro-
mise of a large reward. Orders were then sent
to the ambassador to have the Holy Congrega-
tion assembled on the morning when the mes-
senger had engaged to arrive at the Vatican.
By this skilful and deep-laid plan of operations
the letter was not detained more than half an
hour at Rome ; and another courier returned it
with equal speed to Spain. From the moment
when the King tore himself from the sacred
paper, till it was restored to his hands, he did
not venture once out of the palace. I have
given these particulars on the authority of a
man no less known in Spain for the high station
he has filled, than for his public virtues and
talents. He has been minister of state to the
present King, Charles IV., and is intimately
acquainted with the secret history of the pre-
ceding reign.*
Great remnants of self-tormenting fanaticism
are still found among the Carthusians. Of this
order we have two monasteries in Andalusia,
one on the banks of the Guadalquivir, within
two miles of our gates, and another at. Xere"z,
or Sherry, as that town was formerly called in
England, a name which its wines still bear.
* Jovellanos ; see Appendix.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 229
These monasteries are rich in land and endow-
ments, and consequently afford the monks
every comfort which is consistent with their
rule. But all the wealth in the universe could
not give those wretched slaves of superstition
a single moment of enjoyment. The unhappy
man who binds himself with the Carthusian
vows, may consider the precincts of the cell
allotted him as his tomb. These monks spend
daily eight or nine hours in the chapel, with-
out any music to relieve the monotony of the
service. At midnight they are roused from
their beds, to which they retire at sunset, and
they chaunt matins till four in the morning.
Two hours' rest are allowed them between that
service and morning prayers. Mass follows,
with a short interruption, and great part of the
afternoon is allotted to vespers. No commu-
nication is permitted between the monks, ex-
cept two days in the week, when they assemble
during an hour for conversation. Confined to
their cells when not attending church-service,
even their food i& left them in a wheel-box,
such as are used in the nunneries *, from which
they take it when hungry, and eat it in perfect
solitude. A few books and a small garden, in
which they cultivate a profusion of flowers, are
* See Letter V. page 17< s -
230 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the only resources of these unfortunate beings.
To these privations they add an absolute absti-
nence from flesh, which they vow not to taste
even at the risk of their lives.
I have on different occasions spent a day
with some friends at the Hospederia, or Stran-
gers' Lodge, at the Carthusians of Seville,
where it is the duty of the steward, the only
monk who is allowed to mix in society, to en-
tertain any male visitors who, with a proper
introduction, repair to the monastery. The
steward I knew before my visit to England,
had been a merchant. After several voyages
to Spanish America, he had retired from the
world, which, it was evident in some unguarded
moments, he had known and loved too well to
have entirely forgotten it. His frequent visits
to the town, ostensibly upon business, were not
entirely free from suspicion among the idle and
inquisitive ; and 1 have some reason to believe
that these rumours were found too well
grounded by his superiors. He was deprived
of the stewardship, and disappeared for ever
from the haunts of men.
The austerity of the Carthusian rule of life
would cast but a transient gloom on the mind
ot an enlightened observer, if he could be sure
that the misery he beheld was voluntary, that
hope kept a crown of glory before the eyes of
LETTEUS l-'HOM SPAIiV. 231
every wretched prisoner, and that no unwilling
victim of a temporary illusion was pining for
light and liberty under the tombstone sealed
over him by religious tyranny. But neither
the view of the monks fixed as statues in the
stalls of their gloomy church, nor those that
are seen in the darkest recesses of the cloisters,
prostrate on the marble pavement, where,
wrapt up in their large white mantles, they
spend many an hour in meditation, nor the
bent, gliding figures which wander among the
earthy mounds under the orange-trees of the
cemetery that least melancholy spot within
the walls of the monastery, nothing, I say,
did ever so harrow my feelings in that man-
sion of sorrow as the accidental meeting of a
repining prisoner. This was a young monk,
who, to my great surprise, addressed me as I
was looking at the pictures in one of the clois-
ters of the Carthusians near Seville, and very
politely offered to shew me his cell. He was
perfectly unknown to me, and I have every
reason to believe that I was equally so to him.
Having admired his collection of flowers, we
entered into a literary conversation, and he
asked me whether I was fond of French litera-
ture. Upon my shewing sohie acquaintance
with the writers of that nation, and expressing
a mixed feeling of surprise and interest at
232 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
hearing a Carthusian venturing upon that topic,
the poor young man was so thrown off his
guard, that, leading me to a bookcase, he put
into my hands a volume of Voltaire's Pieces
Fugitives, which he spoke of with rapture. I
believe I saw a volume of Rousseau's works in
the collection ; yet I suspect that this unfortu-
nate man's select library consisted of amatory,
rather than philosophical works. The monk's
name is unknown to me, though I learned from
him the place of his birth ; and many years
have elapsed since this strange meeting, which,
from its insulation amidst the events and im-
pressions of my life, I compare to an interview
with an inhabitant of the invisible world. But I
shall never forget the thrilling horror I felt, when
the abyss of misery into which that wretched
being was plunged opened suddenly upon my
mind. I was young, and had, till that moment,
mistaken the nature of enthusiasm. Fed as I
saw it in a Carthusian convent, I firmly be-
lieved it could not be extinguished but with
life. This ocular evidence against my former
belief was so painful, that I hastened my de-
parture, leaving the devoted victim to his soli-
tude, there to await the odious sound of the
bell which was to disturb his sleep, if the sub-
sequent horror of having committed himself
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 233
with a stranger allowed him that night to close
his eyes.
Though the number of Hermits is not consi-
derable in Spain, we are not without some es-
tablishments on the plan of the Lauras de-
scribed by Gibbon*. The principal of these
solitudes is Monserrat in Catalonia, an account
of which you will find in most books of travels.
My own observation on this point does not,
however, extend beyond the hermitages of
Cordoba, which, I believe, rank next to the
above-mentioned.
, The branch of Sierra Morena, which to the
north of Cordoba separates Andalusia from La
Mancha, rises abruptly within six miles of
that city. On the first ascent of the hills the
country becomes exceedingly beautiful. The
small rivulets which freshen the valleys, aided
by the powerful influence of a southern atmo-
sphere, transform these spots, during April and
May, into the most splendid gardens. Roses
and lilies, of the largest cultivated kinds, have/
sown themselves in the greatest profusion
upon every space left vacant by the mountain-
herbs and shrubs, which form wild and roman-
tic hedges to these native flower-knots. But
as you approach the mountain-tops to the right
* Chapter xxxvii.
234 LETTERS FROM SPAI.V.
and left, the rock begins to appear, and the
scanty soil, scorched and pulverized by the
sun, becomes unfit for vegetation. Here
stands a barren hill of difficult approach on all
sides, and precipitous towards the plain, its
rounded head inclosed within a rude stone pa-
rapet, breast high, a small church rising in the
centre, and about twenty brick tenements
irregularly scattered about it. The dimen-
sions of these huts allow just sufficient room
for a few boards raised about a foot from the
ground, which, covered with a mat, serve for a
bed, a trivet to sit upon, and a diminutive deal
table supporting a crucifix, a human skull, and
one or two books of devotion. The door is so
low that it cannot be passed without stooping ;
and the whole habitation is ingeniously con-
trived to exclude every comfort. As visiting
and talking together is forbidden to the her-
mits, and the cells are at some distance from
one another, a small bell is hung over the door
of each, to call for assistance in case of sickness
or danger. The hermits meet at chapel every
morning to hear mass and receive the sacra-
ment from the hands of a secular priest, for
none of them are admitted to orders. After
chapel they retire to their cells, where they pass
their time in reading, meditation, plaiting mats,
making little crosses of Spanish broom, which
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 235
people carry about them as a preservative from
erysipelas, and manufacturing instruments of
penance, such as scourges and a sort of wire
bracelets bristled inside with points, called Ci-
licios, which are worn next the skin by the ultra-
pious among the Catholics Food, consisting of
pulse and herbs, is distributed once a day to
the hermits, leaving them to use it when they
please. These devotees are usually peasants,
who, seized with religious terrors, are driven to
this strange method of escaping eternal misery
in the next world. But the hardships of their
new profession are generally less severe than
those to which they were subject by their lot in
life ; and they find ample amends for their loss
of liberty in the certainty of food and clothing
without labour, no less than in the secret pride
of superior sanctity, and the consequent respect
of the people.
Thus far these hermitages excite more dis-
gust than compassion. But when, distracted
by superstition, men of a higher order and more
delicate feelings fly to these solitudes as to a
hiding-place from mental terrors, the conse-
quences are often truly melancholy. Among the
hermits of Cordoba, I found a gentleman who,
three years before, had given up his commis-
sion in the army, where he was a colonel of ar-
tillery, and, what is perhaps more painful to a
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Spaniard, his cross of one of the ancient orders
of knighthood. He joined our party, and
shewed more pleasure in conversation than is
consistent with that high fever of enthusiasm,
without which his present state of life must
have been worse than death itself. We stood
upon the brow of the rock, having at our feet
the extensive plains of Lower Andalusia, wa-
tered by the Guadalquivir, the ancient city of
Cordoba with its magnificent cathedral in front,
and the mountains of Jaen sweeping majesti-
cally to the left. The view was to me, then a
very young man, truly grand and imposing;
and I could not help congratulating the hermit
on the enjoyment of a scene which so power-
fully affected the mind, and wrapt it up in con-
templation. "Alas! (he answered with an air
of dejection) I have seen it every day these
three years !" As hermits are not bound to their
profession by irrevocable vows, perhaps this
unfortunate being has, after a long and pain-
ful struggle, returned to the habitations of men,
to hide his face in some obscure corner, bearing
the reproach of apostacy and backsliding from
the bigoted, and the sneer of ridicule from the
thoughtless, his prospects blasted for ever in
this world, and darkened by fear and remorse
as to the next. Woe to the man or woman
who publicly engage their services to religion,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 237
under the impression that they shall be allowed
to withdraw them upon a change of views, or
an abatement of fervour. The very few estab-
lishments of this kind, where solemn vows do
not banish the hopes of liberty for ever, are full
of captives, who would fain burst the invisible
chains that bind them, but cannot. The church
and her leaders are extremely jealous of such
defections : and as few or none dare raise the
veil of the sanctuary, redress is nearly impos-
sible for such as trust themselves within it.
But of this more in my next.
238 LETTERS FROM SPAI.V.
LETTER VIII.
Seville, 1805.
WHEN the last census was made, in 1787,
the number of Spanish females confined to the
cloister, for life, amounted to thirty-two thou-
sand. That in a country where wealth is small
and ill distributed, and industry languishes un-
der innumerable restraints, there should be a
great number of portionless gentlewomen un-
able to find a suitable match, and consequently
glad of a dignified asylum, where they might
secure peace and competence, if not happiness,
is so perfectly natural, that the founders and
supporters of any institution intended to fulfil
these objects would deserve to be reckoned
among the friends of humanity. But the cruel
and wicked church law, which, aided by exter-
nal force, binds the nuns with perpetual vows,
makes the convents for females the Bastilles of
superstition, where many a victim lingers
through a long life of despair or insanity.
LKTTEKSJ FROM SPAIN'. 239
Though I do not mean to enter into a point of
theological controversy, I find it impossible to
dwell for a moment on this subject without ex-
pressing my utter abhorrence and detestation
of the cold indifference with which our Church
looks on the glaring evil consequences of some
of its laws, when, according to her own doc-
trines, they might be either repealed or amend-
ed without relinquishing any of her claims.
The authority of the Roman Pontiff, in all mat-
ters of church government, is not questioned
among Catholics. Yet, from a proud affecta-
tion of infallibility, even upon such points as
the most violent partisans of that absurd pre-
tension have never ventured to place within its
reach, the church of Rome has been so sparing
of the power to reform her laws, that it might
be suspected she wished to abandon it by pre-
scription. Always ready to bind, the heirs of
Saint Peter have shewn themselves extremely
averse to the more humane office of loosing on
earth, except when it served the purposes of
gain or ambition. The time, I believe, will
never come when the church of Rome will
agree to make concessions on what are called
matters of faith. But I cannot discover the
least shadow of reason or interest for the ob-
stinacy which preserves unaltered the barbar-
ous laws relating to the religious vows of
240 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
females ; unless it be that vile animal jealousy,
which persons, deprived of the pleasures of
love, are apt to mistake for zeal in the cause of
chastity : such zeal as your Queen Elizabeth
felt for the purity of her maids.
The Nunneries in this town amount to
twenty-nine. Of these, some are under the
exclusive jurisdiction of the Friars, whose rule
of religious life they profess ; and some under
that of the Episcopal See. The last generally
follow the monastic rules of Saint Benedict,
Saint Bernard, or Saint Jerom ; and it is re-
markable, that the same superiority which is
observable in the secular above the regular
clergy, is found in the nuns under the episco-
pal jurisdiction. Some of these inhabit large
convents, whose courts and gardens allow
the inhabitants ample space for exercise and
amusement. Instead of narrow cells, the nuns
live in a comfortable suite of apartments, often
at the head of a small family of younger nuns
whom they have educated, or of pupils, not
under religious vows, whom their parents place
there for instruction. The life, in fact, of these
communities, is rather collegiate than monastic ;
and were it not for the tyrannical law which
deprives the professed nuns of their liberty,
such establishments would be far from objec-
tionable. The dress of these nuns is still that
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 241
which the Duenas, or elderly matrons, wore
when the convents were founded, with the ad-
dition of a large mantle, black, white, or blue,
according to the custom of the order, which
they use at the choir. From a head-dress not
unlike that which, if I my venture upon such
matters, I believe you call a mob-cap, hangs the
black veil. A rosary, or chaplet of black beads
with a cross at the end, is seen hanging over
the neck and shoulders, or loosely coiled on a
leather strap, which tightens the tunic or gown
to the waist. A slip of cloth of the breadth
of the shoulders, called the scapulary, hangs
down to the feet both before and behind, pro-
bably with a view to conceal every outline of
the female shape.
The mildness of these monastic rules being
unsatisfactory to the fiery spirit of bigotry,
many convents have been founded under the
title of Reformed, where, without the least re-
gard to the sex of the votaries, young and deli-
cate females are subjected to a life of privation
and hardship, as the only infallible method of
obtaining the favour of Heaven. Their dress
is a tunic of sackcloth, tied round the waist
with a knotted rope. The rule allows them
no linen either for clothing or bedding. Wool-
len of the coarsest kind frets their bodies, day
and night, even during the burning summers of
R
242 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the South of Spain. A mantle of the same
sackcloth is the only addition which the nuns
make to their dress in winter, while their feet,
shod with open sandals, and without either
socks or stockings, are exposed to the sharp
winter blasts, and the deadening chill of the
brick floors. A band of coarse linen, two in-
ches in breadth, is worn by the Capuchin nuns,
bound tight six or eight times round the head,
in remembrance, it is said, of the crown of
thorns ; and such is the barbarous spirit of the
rule, that it does not allow this band to be
taken off even under an access of fever. A
young woman who takes the veil in any of the
reformed convents renounces ^the sight of her
nearest relations. The utmost indulgence as
to communication with parents and brothers
extends to a short conversation once a month,
in the presence of one of the elder nuns, be-
hind a thick curtain spread on the inner side
of the iron grating^ which completely inter-
cepts the view. The religious vows, however,
among the Capuchin nuns put a final end to
all communication between parents and chil-
dren.
To those unacquainted with the character of
our species of Christianity, it will be difficult
to conceive what motive can influence the mind
of a young creature of sixteen thus to sacrifice
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 243
herself upon the altars of these Molochs whom
we call Saints and Patriarchs. To me these
horrid effects of superstition appear so natural,
that I only wonder when I see so many of our re-
ligious young females still out of the convent.
Remorse and mental horrors goad some young
men into the strictest monasteries, while more
amiable, though equally mistaken views, lead
our females to a similar course of life. We are
taught to believe self-inflicted pain to be ac-
ceptable to the Deity, both as an atonement
for crime, and a token of thankfulness. The
female character, among us, is a compound of
the most ardent feelings vehement to deliri'
ousness, generous to devotedness. What won-
der, then if, early impressed with the loveli-
ness and sufferings of an incarnate Deity, an
exquisitely tender mind grow restless and dis-
satisfied with a world as yet known only
through the pictures of morose fanatics, and
pant after the most effectual means of giving
her celestial lover an unquestionable proof of
gratitude? The first nascent wish of taking
the veil is eagerly watched and seized by a
confessor, who, to a violent jealousy of earthly
bridegrooms, joins a confident sense of merit in
adding one virgin more to the ten thousand of
the spiritual Harem. Pious parents tremble
at the thought of standing between God and
R 2
244 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
their daughter, and often with a bleeding heart
lead her to the foot of the altar.
There is an extreme eagerness in the Catho
lie professors of celibacy, both male and fe-
male, to decoy young persons into the toil?
from which they themselves cannot escape.
With this view they have disguised the awful
ceremony which cuts off an innocent girl from
the sweetest hopes of nature, with the pomp
and gaiety which mankind have unanimously
bestowed on the triumph of legitimate love.
The whole process which condemns a female
" to wither on the virgin thorn," and " live a
barren sister all her life," is studiously made
to represent a wedding. The unconscious
victim, generally in her fifteenth year, finds
herself, for some time previous to her taking
the veil, the queen nay, the idol of the whole
community which has obtained her preference.
She is constantly addressed by the name of
bride, and sees nothing but gay preparations
for the expected day of her spiritual nuptials.
Attired in a splendid dress, and decked with
all the jewels of her family and friends, she
takes public leave of her acquaintance, visits,
on her way to the convent, several other nun-
neries to be seen and admired by the recluse
inhabitants, and even the crowd which collects
in her progress follows her with tears and bless-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 245
ings. As she approaches the church of her
monastery, the dignified ecclesiastic who is
to perform the ceremony, meets the intended
novice at the door, and leads her to the altar
amid the sounds of bells and musical instru-
ments. The monastic weeds are blessed by
the priest in her presence ; and having em-
braced her parents and nearest relations, she
is led by the lady who acts as bride's-maid to
the small door next to the double grating,
which separates the nuns' choir from the body
of the church. A curtain is drawn while the
abbess cuts off the hair of the novice, and
strips her of her worldly ornaments. On the
removal of the curtain she appears in the mo-
nastic garb, surrounded by the nuns bearing
lighted tapers, her face covered with the white
veil of probationship, fixed on the head by a
wreath of flowers. After the Te Deum, or
some other hymn of thanksgiving, the friends of
the family adjourn to the Locutory, or visiting-
room, where a collation of ices and sweet-
meats is served in the presence of the mock
bride, who, with the principal nuns, attends
behind the grating which separates the visitors
from the inmates of the convent. In the more
austere convents the parting visit is omitted,
and the sight of the novice in the white veil,
immediately after having her hair cut off, is
246 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the last which, for a whole year, is granted to
the parents. They again see her on the day
when she binds herself with the irrevocable
vows, never to behold her more, unless they
should live to see her again crowned with
flowers, when she is laid in the grave.
Instances of novices quitting the convent
during the year of probation are extremely
rare. The ceremony of taking the veil is too
solemn, and bears too much the character of a
public engagement, to allow full liberty of
choice during the subsequent noviciate. The
timid mind of a girl shrinks from the idea of
appearing again in the world, under the tacit
reproach of fickleness and relaxed devotion.
The nuns, besides, do not forget their arts
during the nominal trial of the victim, and she
lives a whole year the object of their caresses.
Nuns, in fact, who, after profession, would
have given,their lives for a day of free breathing
out of their prison, it has been my misfortune
to know ; but I cannot recollect more than one
instance of a novice quitting the convent ; and
that was a woman of obscure birth, on whom
public opinion had no influence.
That many nuns, especially in the more li-
beral convents, live happy, I have every rea-
son to believe ; but, on the other hand, I pos-
sess indubitable evidence of the exquisite rai-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 247
sery which is the lot of some unfortunate fe-
males, under similar circumstances. I shall
mention only one case, in actual existence,
with which I am circumstantially acquainted.
A lively and interesting girl of fifteen, poor,
though connected with some of the first gentry
in this town, having received her education
under an aunt who was at the head of a wealthy,
and not austere, Franciscan convent, came out,
as the phrase is, to see the world, previous to her
taking the veil. I often met the intended
novice at the house of one of her relations,
where I visited daily. She had scarcely been
a fortnight out of the cloister, when that world
she had learned to abhor in description, was so
visibly and rapidly winning her affections, that
at the end of three months she could hardly
disguise her aversion to the veil. The day,
however, was now fast approaching which had
been fixed for the ceremony, without her feel-
ing sufficient resolution to decline it. Her
father, a good but weak man, she knew too
well, could not protect her from the ill treat-
ment of an unfeeling mother, whose vanity was
concerned in thus disposing of a daughter for
whom she had no hopes of finding a suitable
match. The kindness of her aunt, the good
nun to whom the distressed girl was indebted
for the happiness of her childhood, formed,
248 , LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
besides, too strong a contrast with the unkind-
ness of the unnatural mother, not to give her
wavering mind a strong though painful bias
towards the cloister. To this were added all
the arts of pious seduction so common among
the religious of both sexes. The preparations
for the approaching solemnity were, in the
mean time, industriously got forward with the
greatest publicity. Verses were circulated, in
which her confessor sang the triumph of Divine
Love over the wily suggestions of the impious.
The wedding-dress was shewn to every acquaint-
ance, and due notice of the appointed clay was
given to friends and relatives. But the fears
and aversion of the devoted victim grew in
proportion as she saw herself more and more
involved in the toils she had wanted courage
to burst when she first felt them.
It was in company with my friend Leandro,
with whose private history you are well ac-
quainted,* that I often met the unfortunate
Maria Francisca. His efforts to dissuade her
from the rash step she was going to take, and
the warm language in which he spoke to her
father on that subject, had made her look upon
him as a warm and sincere friend. The unhappy
girl, on the eve of the day when she was to take
* See Letter III.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 249
the veil, repaired to church, and sent him a
message, without mentioning her name, that a
female penitent requested his attendance at the
confessional. With painful surprise he found the
future novice at his feet, in a state bordering
on distraction. When a flood of tears had al-
lowed her utterance, she told him that, for
want of another friend in the whole world to
whom she could disclose her feelings, she came
to him, not, however, for the purpose of confes-
sion, but because she trusted he would listen
with pity to her sorrows. With a warmth and
eloquence above her years, she protested that
the distant terrors of eternal punishment, which,
she feared, might be the consequence of her de-
termination, could not deter her from the step
by which she was going to escape the incessant
persecution of her mother. In vain did my
friend volunteer his assistance to extricate her
from the appalling difficulties which surrounded
her : in vain did he offer to wait upon the
archbishop, and implore his interference : no
offers, no persuasions could move her. She
parted as if ready to be conveyed to the scaf-
fold, and the next day she took the veil.
The real kindness of her aunt, and the trea-
cherous smiles of the other nuns, supported the
pining novice through the year of probation.
The scene I beheld when she was bound
250 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
with the perpetual vows of monastic life, is one
which I cannot recollect without an actual sense
of suffocation. A solemn mass, performed with
all the splendour which that ceremony admits,
preceded the awful oaths of the novice. At the
conclusion of the service, she approached the
superior of the order. A pen, gaily ornamented
with artificial flowers, was put into her trembling
hand, to sign the engagement for life, on which
she was about to enter. Then, standing before
the iron-grate of the choir, she began to chaunt,
in a weak and fainting voice, the act of conse-
cration of herself to God ; but, having uttered
a few words, she fainted into the arms of the
surrounding nuns. This was attributed to mere
fatigue and emotion. No sooner had the means
employed restored to the victim the powers of
speech, than, with a vehemence which those
who knew not her circumstances attributed to
a fresh impulse of holy zeal, and in which the
few that were in the painful secret saw nothing
but the madness of despair, she hurried over
the remaining sentences, and sealed her doom
for ever.
The real feelings of the new votaress were,
however, too much suspected by her more
bigoted or more resigned fellow-prisoners ; and
time and despair making her less cautious, she
was soon looked upon as one likely to bring
LETTERS
disgrace on the whole order, by divulging the
secret that it is possible for a nun to feel impa-
tient under her vows. The storm of conventual
persecution, (the fiercest and most pitiless of all
that breed in the human heart,) had been low-
ering over the unhappy young woman during
the short time which her aunt, the prioress,
survived. But when death had left her friend-
less, and exposed to the tormenting ingenuity
of a crowd of female zealots, whom she could
not escape for an instant, unable to endure her
misery, she resolutely attempted to drown her-
self. The attempt, however, was ineffectual.
And now the merciless character of Catholic
superstition appeared in its full glare. The
mother, without impeaching whose character
no judicial steps could be taken to prove the
invalidity of the profession, was dead ; and
some relations and friends of the poor prisoner
were moved by her sufferings to apply to the
church for relief. A suit was instituted for this
purpose before the ecclesiastical court, and the
clearest evidence adduced of the indirect com-
pulsion which had been used in the case. But
the whole order of Saint Francis, considering
their honour at stake, rose against their rebel-
lious subject, and the judges sanctioned her
vows as voluntary and valid. She lives still in
252 LETTERS FROM SPA IX.
a state approaching to madness, and death
alone can break her chains.*
Such an instance of misery is, I hope, one of
those extreme cases which seldom take place,
and more seldom transpire. The common
source of suffering among the Catholic recluses
proceeds from a certain degree of religious me-
lancholy, which, combined with such com-
plaints as originate in perpetual confinement,
affect more or less the greater number.
The mental disease to which I allude is com^-
monly known by the name of Escrupulos, and
might be called religious anxiety. It is the na^
tural state of a mind perpetually dwelling on
hopes connected with an invisible world, and
anxiously practising means to avoid an un-
happy lot in it, which keep the apprehended
danger for ever present to the imagination.
Consecration for life at the altar promises, it is
true, increased happiness in the world to come;
but the numerous and difficult duties attached
to the religious profession, multiply the hazards
of eternal misery with the chances of failure in
their performance ; and while the plain Chris-
tian's offences against the moral law are often
considered as mere frailties, those of the pro-
* She died in 1821.
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 253
fessed votary seldom escape the aggravation of
sacrilege. The odious diligence of the Catho-
lic moralists has raked together an endless ca-
talogue of sins, by thought, word, and deed, to
every one of which the punishment of eternal
flames has been assigned. This list, alike hor-
rible and disgusting, haunts the imagination of
the unfortunate devotee, till, reduced to a state
of perpetual anxiety, she can neither think,
speak, nor act, without discovering in every
vital motion a sin which invalidates all her past
sacrifices, and dooms, her painful efforts after
Christian perfection to end in everlasting mi-
sery. Absolution, which adds boldness to the
resolute and profligate, becomes a fresh source
of disquietude to a timid and sickly mind.
Doubts innumerable disturb the unhappy suf-
ferer, not, however, as to the power of the
priest in granting pardon, but respecting her
own fulfilment of the conditions, without which
to receive absolution is sacrilege. These ago-
nizing fears, cherished and fed by the small
circle of objects to which a nun is confined, are
generally incurable, and usually terminate in
an untimely death, or insanity.
There are, however, constitutions and tem-
pers to which the atmosphere of a nunnery
seems natural and congenial. Women of un-
common cleverness and judgment, whose
254 LETTERS FROM SPAIN'.
strength of mind preserves them, in a state of ra-
tional happiness, are sometimes found in the
cloisters. But the true, the genuine nun such,
I mean, as, unincumbered by a barbarous rule,
and blessed with that Liliputian activity of
mind which can convert a parlour or a kitchen
into an universe presents a most curious mo-
dification of that amusing character, the old
maid. Like their virgin sisters all over the
world, they too have, more or less, a flirting-
period, of which the confessor is always the
happy and exclusive object. The heart and
soul of almost every nun not passed fifty are
centred in the priest that directs her con-
science. The convent messengers are seen
about the town with lots of spiritual billets-doux,
in search of a soothing line from the ghostly
fathers. The nuns not only address them by
that endearing name, but will not endure
from them the common form of speech in the
third person: they must be tutoye, as children
are by their parents. Jealousy is a frequent
symptom of this nameless attachment ; and
though it is impossible for every nun to have
exclusive possession of her confessor, few will
allow the presence of a rival within their o\vn
convent.
I do not intend, however, to cast an imputa-
tion of levity on the class of Spanish females
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 255
which I am describing. Instances of gross mis-
conduct are extremely rare among the nuns.
Indeed, the physical barriers which protect
their virtue are fully adequate to guard them
against the dangers of a most unbounded men-
tal intimacy with their confessors. Neither
would I suggest the idea that nothing but ob-
stacles of this kind keeps them, in all cases,
within the bounds of modesty. My only ob-
ject is to expose the absurdity and unfeeling-
ness of a system which, while it surrounds the
young recluses with strong walls, massive gates,
and spiked windows, grants them the most
intimate communication with a man often a
young man that can be carried on in words
and writing. The struggle between the heart
thus barbarously tried, and the unnatural duties
of the religious state, though sometimes a mys-
tery to the modest sufferer, is plainly visible in
most of the young captives.
About the age of fifty, (for spiritual flirtation
seldom exhausts itself before that age,) the ge-
nuine nun has settled every feeling and affec-
tion upon that shifting centre of the universe,
which, like some circles in astronomy, changes
with every step of the individual I mean self.
It has been observed that no European language
possesses a true equivalent for your English
word comfort ; and, considering the state of this
256 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
country, Spanisji would have little chance of
producing a similar substantive, were it not for
some of our nuns, who, as they make a con-
stant practical study of the subject, may, at
length, enrich our dictionary with a name for
what they know so well without it. Their com-
forts, however, poor souls ! are still of an infe-
rior kind, and arise chiefly from the indulgence
of that temper, which, in the language of your
ladies' maids, makes their mistresses very parti-
cular; and which, by a strange application of
the word, confers among us the name of impcr-
tinente. The squeamishness, fastidiousness, and
morbid sensibility of nuns, make that name a
proverbial reproach against every sort of af-
fected delicacy. As great and wealthy nunne-
ries possess considerable influence, and none
can obtain the patronage of the Holy Sisters
(Mothers, they are called by the Spaniards,)
without accommodating themselves to the tone
and manners of the society, every person, male
or female, connected with it, acquires a peculiar
mincing air, which cannot be mistaken by an
experienced observer. But in none does it ap-
pear mope ludicrously than in the old fashioned
nun-doctors. Their patience in listening to long,
minute, and often-told reports of cases ; the
mock authority with which they enforce their
prescriptions, and the peculiar wit they employ
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 257
to raise the spirits of their patients, would, in a
more free country, furnish comedy with a most
amusing character. Some years ago a very
stupid practitioner bethought himself of taking
orders, thus to unite the spiritual and bodily
leech for the convenience of nuns. The Pope
granted him a dispensation of the ecclesiastical
law, which forbids priests practising physic,
and he found himself unrivalled in powers
among the faculty. The scheme succeeded so
well that our doctor sent home for a lad, his
nephew, whom he has brought up in this two-
fold trade, which, for want of direct heirs, of
which priests in this country cannot boast,
is likely to be perpetuated in the collateral
branches of that family. With regard to their
curative system, as it applies to the soul, I am
a very incompetent judge: the body, I know
at least the half-spiritualized bodies of the nuns
they treat exclusively with syrups. This is
a fact of which I have a melancholy proof in a
near relation, a most amiable, young woman,
who was allowed to drop into an early grave,
while her growing disease was opposed with
nothing but syrup of violets ! I must add, how-
ever, that the wary doctor, not forgetting the
ghostly concerns of his patient, never omitted
to add a certain dose of Agnus Castus to every
258 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ounce of the syrup; a practice to which, he
once told a friend of mine, both he and his
uncle most religiously adhered when attending
young nuns, with the benevolent purpose of
making their religious duties more easy.
LFTTFRS FltOM SPAIN*. 259
LETTER IX.
Seville, - - 1806.
As, in order to help my memory, I have
been for some time collecting notes under
different heads, relative to the customs, both
public and private, which are most remarkable
in the annual circle of Sevillian life, I find my-
self possessed of a number of detached scraps,
which, though affording abundant matter for
more than one of my usual dispatches, are
much too stubborn to bend themselves into any
but their original shape. After casting about
in my mind for some picturesque or dramatic
plan of arrangement, I had, most cowardly, I
confess, and like a mere novice in the art of
authorship, determined to suppress the detached
contents of my common-place book, when it
occurred to me that, as they were no less likely
to gratify your curiosity in their present state
than in a more elaborate form, a simple tran-
script of my notes would not stand amiss in the
s 2
260 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
collection of my letters. I shall, therefore,
present you with the following sample of my
Fasti Hispalenses, or Sevillian Almanack, with-
out, however, binding myself to furnish it with
the three hundred and sixty-five articles which
that name seems to threaten. Or, should you
still find the title too ambitious and high-
sounding for the mere gossip and prattle of
this series of scraps, I beg you will call it (for
I have not the heart to send out my produc-
tions not only shapeless, but nameless)
MEMORANDUMS OF SOME ANDALUSIAN
CUSTOMS AND FESTIVALS.
JANUARY 20TH. SAINT SEBASTIAN'S DAY.
Carnival has been ushered in, according to
an ancient custom which authorises so early
a commencement of the gaieties that precede
Lent. Little, however, remains of that spirit
of mirth which contrived such ample amends
for the demure behaviour required during the
annual grand fast. To judge from what I have
seen and heard in my boyhood, the generation
who lived at Seville before me, were, in their
love of noisy merriment, but one step above
children ; and contrived to pass a considerable
part of their time in a round of amusements ;
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 261
more remarkable for jollity than for either
show or refinement, yet unmixed with any
grossness or indecorum. I shall give a speci-
men in a family of middle rank, whose circum-
stances were not the most favourable to cheer-
fulness.
The joy and delight of my childhood was
centred in the house of four spinsters of the
good old times, who, during; a period of be-
tween fifty and sixty years passed "in single
blessedness," and with claims to respectability
as ample as their means of supporting it were
scanty, had waged the most resolute and suc-
cessful war against melancholy, and were now
the seasoned veterans of mirth. Poverty being
no source of degradation among us, these la-
dies had a pretty numerous circle of friends,
who, with their young families, frequented the
house one of the old, large, and substantial
buildings which, for a trifling rent, may be had
in this town, and which care and neatness have
kept furnished for more than a century, without
the addition or substitution of a single article.
In a lofty drawing-room, hung round with
tapestry, the faded remnants of ancient family
pride, the good old ladies were ready, every
evening after sunset, to welcome their friends,
especially the young of both sexes, to whom
they shewed the most good-natured kindness.
262 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Their scanty revenue did not allow them to
treat the company with the usual refreshments,
except on particular days an expense which
they met by a well-planned system of starva-
tion carried on throughout the year with the
utmost good-humour. An ancient guitar, as
large as a moderate violoncello, stood up in a
corner of the room, ready, at a moment's notice,
to stir up the spirits of the young people into a
dance of the Spanish Seguidillas, or to accom-
pany the songs which were often forfeited in
the games that formed the staple of merriment
at this season.
The games, in truth, which in England are
nearly forgotten, even within their last asylums
ladies' schools and nurseries, were thirty
years ago a favourite amusement in this coun-
try. That they have, at some period, been
common to a great part of Europe, will not be
doubted by any one who, like myself, may at-
tach such importance to this subject as to be
at the trouble of comparing the different sports
of that kind which prevail in France, England,
and Spain. I wish, indeed, that antiquarians
were a more jovial and volatile race than I have
found them in general, and that some one
would trace up these amusements to their com-
mon source. The French, with that spirit of
system and scientific arrangement which even
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 263
their perfumers, Marchandes de Modes, and
dancing-masters display, have already, accord-
ing to a treatise now lying before me, dis-
tributed these games into Jeux d'action and
Jeux d* esprit.
In marking their similarity among the three
nations I have mentioned, I shall pass over the
former ; for who can doubt that romping (so I
will venture, though less elegantly, to express
the French action) is an innate principle in
mankind, impelling the human animal to similar
pranks all over the globe, from the first to the
third of his climacterics ? But to find that just
at the age when he perceives the necessity of
assuming the demureness of maturity, he should,
in different places and under a variety of cir-
cumstances, fall upon the same contrivances in
order to desipere in loco, or to find a loop-hole
to indulge himself in playing the fool, is a phe-
nomenon which I beg leave to recommend to
the attention of philosophers.
The jeu.v $ esprit, which 1 find to be used,
with some slight variations, in France, England,
and Spain, or, at least, in some two of those
countries, are The Aviary, or giving the heart
to one bird, committing one's secret to another,
and plucking a feather from a third ; at the risk
of mistaking the objects of the intended raillery
or gallantry, disguised under the name of dif-
264 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ferent birds. In The Soldier, the players being
questioned by the leader about the clothing
they mean to give a decayed veteran, must
avoid the words yes, no, white, and black. The
ingenuity displayed in this game is much of
the kind that appears in some of our tales of
the seventeenth century, where the author en-
gaged not to use some particular vowel through-
out his narrative. Exhausting a letter, each
player being obliged to use three words with
the initial proposed by the leader. The Eng-
lish game, / love my love, is a modification of
this : in Spanish it is commonly called el Jar-
din, the Garden. La Plaza de Toros, or the Bull
Amphitheatre, in French, L Amphigouri, is a
story made up of words collected from the
players, each of whom engages to name objects
peculiar to some trade. Le mot place, a refine-
ment on Cross purposes, in Spanish Los Despro-
positos, is a game in which every player in the
ring having whispered to his neighbour, on the
right, the most unusual word he can think of,
questions are put in the opposite direction, the
answer to which, besides being pertinent, must
contain the given word. The stool of repentance,
(Gallice) La Sellette, (Hispan.) La Berima, is, as
my French author wisely observes, a dangerous
game, where the penitent hears his faults from
every one of the company through the medium
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 265
of the leader, till he can guess the person who
has nettled him most by his remarks.
I will not deny that a taste among grown
people for these childish amusements bespeaks
a great want of refinement; but I must own,
on the other hand, that there is a charm in the
remnants of primitive simplicity which gave a
relish to these scenes of domestic gaiety, not
to be found in the more affected manners of
the present day. The French, especially in the
provinces, are still addicted to these joyous,
unsophisticated family meetings. For my part,
I lament that the period is nearly gone by,
when neither bigotry nor fastidiousness had as
yet condemned those cheap and simple means
of giving vent to the overflow of spirits, so
common in the youth of all countries, but more
especially under this our animating sky ; and
cannot endure with patience that fashion should
begin to disdain those friendly meetings, where
mirth and joy, springing from the young, dif-
fused a fresh glow of life over the old, and Hope
and Remembrance seemed to shake hands with
Pleasure in the very teeth of Time.
As Carnival approached, the spirit of romp-
ing gained fast upon its assiduous votaries, till
it ended in a full possession, which lasted the
three days preceding Ash- Wednesday.
The custom alluded to by Horace of sticking
266 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
a tail* is still practised by the boys in the
streets, to the great annoyance of old ladies,
who are generally the objects of this sport.
One of the ragged striplings that wander in
crowds about Seville, having tagged a piece of
paper with a hooked pin, and stolen unper-
ceived behind some slow-paced female, as,
wrapt up in her veil, she tells the beads she
carries in her left hand, fastens the paper-
tail on the back of the black or walking petti-
coat called Saya. The whole gang of raga-
muffins, who, at a convenient distance, have
watched the dexterity of their companion,
set up a loud cry of Ldrgalo, Idrgalo Drop it,
drop it which makes every female in the street
look to the rear, which, they well know, is
the fixed point of attack with the merry light-
troops. The alarm continues till some friendly
hand relieves the victim of sport, who, spin-
ning and nodding like a spent top, tries in
vain to catch a glance at the fast-pinned paper,
unmindful of the physical law which forbids
* ... Nihilo ut sapientior, ille
Qui te deridet, caudam trahat. SAT. II. iii.
So he who dared thy madness to deride,
Though you may frankly own yourself a fool,
Behind him trails his mark of ridicule.
FKANCI-..
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. 267
her head revolving faster than the great orbit
on which the ominous comet flies.
Carnival, properly so called, is limited to
Quinquagesima-Sunday, and the two following
days, a period which the lower classes pass in
drinking and rioting in those streets where the
meaner sort of houses abound, and especially
in the vicinity of the large courts, or halls,
called Corrales, surrounded with small rooms
or cells, where numbers of the poorest inha-
bitants live in filth, misery, and debauch. Be-
fore these horrible places are seen crowds of
men, women, and children, singing, dancing,
drinking, and pursuing each other with hand-
fuls of hair-powder. I have never seen, how-
ever, an instance of their taking liberties with
any person above their class ; yet, such bac-
chanals produce a feeling of insecurity, which
makes the approach of those spots very un-
pleasant during the Carnival.
At Madrid, where whole quarters of the
town, such as Avapies and Maravillas, are in-
habited exclusively by the rabble, these Satur-
nalia are performed upon a larger scale. I
once ventured with three or four friends, all
muffled in our cloaks, to parade the Avapi6s
during the Carnival. The streets were crowded
with men, who, upon the least provocation, real
or imaginary, would have instantly used the
268 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
knife, and of women equally ready to take no
slight share in any quarrel: for these lovely
creatures often carry a poniard in a sheath,
thrust within the upper part of the left stock-
ing, and held up by the garter. We were,
however, upon our best behaviour, and by a
look of complacency on their sports, and keep-
ing at the most respectful distance from the
women, came away without meeting with the
least disposition to insolence or rudeness.
A gentleman who, either out of curiosity or
depraved taste, attends the amusements of the
vulgar, is generally respected, provided he is a
mere spectator, and appears indifferent to the
females. The ancient Spanish jealousy is still
observable among the lower classes ; and while
not a sword is drawn in Spain upon a love-
quarrel, the knife often decides the claims of
more humble lovers. Yet, love is, by no
means, the main instigator of murder among
us. A constitutional irritability, especially in
the southern provinces, leads, without any
more assignable reason, to the frequent shed-
ding of blood. A small quantity of wine,
nay, the mere blowing of the easterly wind,
called Soldno, is infallibly attended with deadly
quarrels in Andalusia. The average of danger-
ous or mortal wounds, on every great festival at
Seville, is, I believe, about two or three. We
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 203
have, indeed, a well-endowed hospital, named
de los Heridos, which, though open to all per-
sons who meet with dangerous accidents, is,
from this unhappy disposition of the people,
almost confined to the wounded. The large
arm-chair where the surgeon in attendance ex-
amines the patient just as he is brought in,
usually upon a ladder, is known in the whole
town by the name of the Bullies' chair Silla de
los Guapos. Every thing, in fact, attests both
the generality and inveteracy of that horrible
propensity among the Spaniards. I have met
with an original unpublished privilege granted
in 1511, by King Don Manoel of Portugal to
the German merchants established at Lisbon,
whereby their servants, to the number of six,
are allowed to carry arms both day and night,
" provided such privileged servants be not
Spaniards."* Had this clause been inserted
after the Portuguese nation had thrown off the
Spanish yoke, I should attribute it to political
jealousy ; but, considering its date, I must look
upon it as proving the inveteracy and notoriety
of the barbarous disposition, the mention of
which has led me into this digression.
The Carnival amusements still in use among
* " Os quais servidorcs nao serao Hespanhoes para goza-
rem de dita libertade.
270 LETTERS FliOM SPAIN.
the middling ranks of Andalusia are, swinging,
playing all manner of tricks on the unwary,
such as breaking egg-shells full of powdered
talc on the head, and throwing handfuls of small
sugar-plums at the ladies, which they repay
with besprinkling the assailants with water
from a squirt. This last practical joke, how-
ever, begins to be disused, and increased re-
finement will soon put an end to them all.
Dancing and a supper to the frequenters of the
daily Tertulia, is, on one of the three days of
Carnival, a matter of course among the wealthy.
ASH- WEDNESDAY.
The frolics of Carnival are sometimes carried
on till the dawn of this day, the first of the
long fast of Lent, when a sudden and most un-
pleasant transition takes place for such as have
set no bounds to the noisy mirth of the pre-
ceding season. But, as the religious duties of
the church begin at midnight, the amusements
of Shrove-Tuesday cease, in the more correct
families, at twelve, just as your Opera is hur-
ried on Saturdays that it may not encroach on
the following day.
Midnight is, indeed, a most important period
with us. The obligation of fasting begins just
when the leading clock of every town strikes
twelve ; and as no priest can celebrate mass,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 2~1
on any day whatever, if he has taken the
smallest portion of meat or drink after the
beginning of the civil day, I have often seen
clergymen devouring their supper against time,
the watch upon the table, and the anxious eye
upon the fatal hand, while large mouthfuls,
chasing one another down their almost con-
vulsed throats, appeared to threaten suffoca-
tion. Such hurry will seem incredible to your
well-fed Englishmen, for whom supper is an
empty name. Not so to our worthy divines,
who, having had their dinner at one, and a cup
of chocolate at six, feel strongly the necessity
of a substantial supper before they retire to
bed. A priest, therefore, who, by some un-
toward accident, is overtaken by " the dead
waste and middle of the night," with a craving,
stomach, having to perform mass at a late hour
next morning, may well feel alarmed at his
impending sufferings. The strictness, in fact,
with which the rule of receiving the Sacrament
into a fasting stomach is observed, will hardly
be believed in a Protestant country. I have
known many a profligate priest, yet never
but once met with any who ventured to break
this sacramental fast. The infraction of this
rule would strike horror into every Catholic
bosom ; and the convicted perpetrator of such
a daring sacrilege as dividing the power of
272 LETTERS FROM SPA IX.
digestion between the Host and common food,
would find it difficult to escape the last ven-
geance of the Church. This law extends to the
laity whenever they intend to communicate.
I must now acquaint you with the rules of
the Roman Catholic fast, which all persons
above the age of one-and-twenty are bound to
observe during Lent, Sundays excepted. One
meal alone, from which flesh, eggs, milk, and
all its preparations, such as cheese and butter,
called Lacticinia, are excluded, is allowed on a
fast day. It is under this severe form that
your English and Irish Catholics are bound to
keep their Lent. But we Spaniards are the
darlings of our Mother Church of Rome, and
enjoy most valuable privileges. The Ball of
the Crusade, in the first place, dispenses with
our abstinence from eggs and milk. Besides
throwing open the hen-house and dairy, the
said Bull unlocks the treasure of laid-up merits,
of which the Pope keeps the key, and thus we
are refreshed both in body and soul, at the
trifling cost of about three-pence a-year. Yet we
should have been compelled to live for forty
days on your Newfoundland fish not a savoury
food in these hot countries had it not been
for a new kind of hostilities which our Govern-
ment, in concert with the Pope, devised against
England, I believe during the siege of Gib-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 273
raltar. By allowing the Spaniards to eat
meat four days in the Lent weeks, it was pro-
posed to diminish the profits which Great Bri-
tain derives from the exportation of dried fish.
We had accordingly another privilege, under the
title of Flesh-Bull, at the same moderate price
as the former. This additional revenue was
found too considerable to be relinquished on
the restoration of peace ; and the Pope, who
has a share in it, soon discovered that the
weakness of our constitutions requires more
solid nutriment than the dry chips of the New-
foundland fish can afford.
The Bull of the Crusade is proclaimed, every
year before Lent, by the sound of kettle-drums
and trumpets. As no one can enjoy the privi-
leges expressed in these papal rescripts with-
out possessing a printed copy thereof, wherein
the name of the owner is inserted, there is a
house at Seville with a printing-office, by far
the most extensive in Andalusia, where, at the
expense of Government, these Bulls are re-
printed every year, both for Spain and Spanish
America. Now, it has been wisely arranged
that, on the day of the yearly publication, the
copies for the preceding twelvemonth should
become absolutely stale and unprofitable ; a
measure which produces a most prodigious
hurry to obtain new Bulls in all who wish well
T
274 LKTTKRS FROM SPAIN.
to their souls and do not quite overlook the
ease and comfort of their stomachs.
The article of Bulls holds a conspicuous sta-
tion in the Spanish budget. The price of the
copies being, however, more than double in
Spanish America, it is from thence that the chief
profit of this spiritual juggle arises. Cargoes
of this holy paper are sent over every year by
Government to all our transatlantic possessions,
and one of the most severe consequences of a
war with England is the difficulty of conveying
these ghostly treasures to our brethren of the
New World, no less than that of bringing back
the worldly, yet necessary, dross which they
give in exchange to the Mother-country. But
I fear I am betraying state secrets.
MID-LENT.
We have still the remnants of an ancient
custom this day, which shews the impatient
feelings with which men sacrifice their com-
forts to the fears of superstition. Children of
all ranks, those of the poor in the streets, and
such as belong to the better classes in their
houses, appear fantastically decorated, not
unlike the English chimney-sweepers on May-
da.y, with caps of gilt and coloured paper, and
coats made of the Crusade Bulls of the preced-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 275
ing year. In this attire they keep up an
incessant din the whole day, crying, as they
sound their drums and rattles, Aserrar la vicja ;
lapicarapdleja: "Saw down the old woman, the
scoundrel b ch." About midnight, parties of
the common people parade the streets, knock-
ing at every door, and repeating the same
words. I understand that they end this revel
by sawing in two the figure of an old woman,
which is meant as the emblem of Lent.
There is little ground, however, for these
peevish feelings against old Lent, among the
class that exhibits them most ; for few of the
poorer inhabitants of large towns taste any
meat in the course of the year, and living as
they do upon a very scanty pittance of bread
and pulse, they can ill afford to confine them-
selves to one meal in the four-and-twenty
hours. The privations of the fasting season
are felt chiefly by that numerous class who,
unable to dispel their superstitious fear, and
wanting on the other hand, a strong sense of
religious duty, submit like unwilling slaves to
the unwelcome task which they dare not omit.
Many, however, fall off before the end of Lent,
and take to their breakfasts and suppers under
the sanction of some good-natured Doctor, who
declares fasting injurious to their health. Others,
T 2
27G LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
whose healthy looks would belie the dispensing-
physician, compound between the Church and
their stomachs by adding an ounce of bread to
the cup of chocolate which, under the name of
Parvcdad, our divines admit as a venial infrac-
tion. There is, besides, a fast-day supper,
which was introduced by those good souls the
primitive Monks at their evening conferences,
where, finding that an empty stomach was apt
to increase the hollowness of their heads, they
allowed themselves a crust of bread and a glass
of water, as a support to their fainting elo-
quence. This relaxation of the primitive fast
took the name of Collatio, or conference, which
it preserves among us. The Catholic casuists
are not agreed, however, on the quantity of
bread and vegetables, (for any other food is
strictly excluded from the collation,) which may
be allowed without being guilty of a deadly sin.
The Probabilistic extend this liberty as far as
six ounces by weight, while the Probabiliorhta
will not answer for the safety of a hungry soul
who indulges beyond four ounces. Who shall
decide when doctors disagree ? I have known
an excellent man who w r eighed his food on these
occasions till he brought it within some grains
of four ounces. But few are inclined to take
the matter so seriously, and, confiding in the
deceitful balance of their eyes, use a system of
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 277
weights iii which four ounces fall little short of
a pound*.
PASSION, OR HOLY WEEK.
Pandite, mine, Hdicona, Decs, might I say, in
the true spirit of a native of Seville, when en-
tering upon a subject which is the chief pride
of this town. To tell the honest truth, we are
quizzed every where for our conceit of these
solemnities ; and it is a standing joke against
the Sevillians that on the arrival of the King in
summer, it was moved in the Cabildo, or town
corporation, to repeat the Passion-week for the
amusement of his Majesty. It must be owned,
however, that our Cathedral service on that
solemn Christian festival yields not in impres-
siveness to any ceremonies of modern worship,
with which I am acquainted either by sight or
description.
It is impossible to convey in words an ade-
quate idea of architectural grandeur. The
* The Casuists are divided into Probalilistce and Probalilioristje.
The first, among whom were the Jesuits, maintain that a certain
degree of probability as to the lawfulness of an action is enough to
secure against sin. The second, supported by the Dominicans and
the Jansenists (a kind of Catholic Calvinists, condemned by the
Church) insist on the necessity of always taking the safest, or most
probable side. The French proverb Le mieux est Fenncmi du l-iett,
is perfectly applicable to the practical effects of these two systems,
as they are observed in Spain.
278 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
dimensions of a temple do not go beyond a
certain point in augmenting the majesty of
effect. A temple may be so gigantic as to
make the worshippers mere pigmies. An
immense structure, though it may be favour-
able to contemplation, must greatly diminish
the effect of such social rites as aim at the
imagination through the senses. I have been
told by a native of this town, who visited
Rome, and on whose taste and judgment I
greatly depend, that the service of the Passion-
week at Saint Peter's does not produce a
stronger effect on the mind than that of our
Cathedral. If this impression did not arise
from the power of early habit, I should ac-
count for it from the excessive magnitude of
the first temple in Christendom. The practice,
also, of confining the most striking and solemn
ceremonies to the Sistine Chapel seems to
shew that the Romans find the Church of Saint
Peter unfavourable to the display of religious
pomp. I shall add, though fearful of venturing
too far upon a subject with which I am but
slightly acquainted, that the ancients appear to
have been careful not to diminish the effect of
their public worship by the too large dimensions
of the temples.
The size of our Cathedral seems to me hap-
pily adapted to the object of the building.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 279
Three hundred and ninety-eight feet long by two
hundred and ninety-one broad the breadth dis-
tributed into five ailes, formed by one hundred
and four arches, of which those of the centre are
one hundred and thirty-four feet high, and the
rest ninetys-ix remove the limits of an undi-
vided structure enough to require that effort of
the eye and pause of the mind before we con-
ceive it as a whole, which excites the idea of
grandeur. This, I believe, is the impression
which a temple should produce. To aim at
more is to forget the solemn performances for
which the structure is intended. Let the house
of prayer, when solitary, appear so ample as
not to exclude a single suppliant in a populous
town ; yet let the throng be visible on a solemn
feast. Let the loftiness of the ailes soften the
noise of a moving multitude into a gentle and
continuous rustling ; but let me hear the voice
of the singers and the peals of the organ re-
turned in deep echoes, not lost in the too dis-
tant vaults.
The simultaneous impression of architectural
and ritual magnificence produced at the Ca-
thedral of Seville is, I conceive, difficult to be
rivalled. The pillars are not so massive as to
obstruct the sight at every turn ; and were the
influence of modern taste strong enough to pre-
vail over the canonical vanity which blocks up
280 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the middle of every Cathedral with the clumsy
and absurd inclosure of the choir, it would be
difficult to imagine a more striking view than
that which our Church presents on Holy-Thurs-
day. In one respect, and that a most impor-
tant one, it has the advantage over Saint Peter's
at Rome. The scene of tilth and irreverence
which, according to travellers, disgusts the eye
and revolts the mind at the Church of the
Vatican those crowds of peasants and beggars,
eating, drinking, and sleeping within the pre-
cints of the temple, are not to be seen at
Seville. Our Church, though almost thronged
day and night on the principal festivals, is not
profaned by any external mark of indevotion.
The strictest watch is kept by members of the
chapter appointed for that purpose, who, at-
tended by the vergers, go their rounds for the
preservation of order. The exclusion of every
kind of seats from the Church, though rather
inconvenient for the people, prevents its being
made a lounging-place ; and, besides allowing
the beautiful marble pavement to appear un-
broken, avoids that dismal look of an empty
theatre, which benches or pews give to
churches in the intervals of divine service,
Early on Palm-Sunday the melancholy sound
of the Fassion-bcll announces the beginning
of the solemnities for which the fast of Lent is
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN. 281
intended to prepare the mind. This bell is
one of the largest which are made to revolve
upon pivots. It is moved by means of two
long ropes, which, by swinging the bell into a
circular motion, are twined, gently at first,
round the massive arms of a cross, of which
the bell forms the foot, and the head its coun-
terpoise. Six men then draw back the ropes
till the enormous machine conceives a sufficient
impetus to coil them in an opposite direction ;
and thus alternately, as long as ringing is re-
quired. To give this bell a tone appropriate
to the sombre character of the season, it has
been cast with several large holes disposed in
a circle round the top a contrivance which,
without diminishing the vibration of the metal,
prevents the distinct formation of any musical
note, and converts the sound into a dismal
clangour.
The chapter, consisting of about eighty re-
sident members, in their choral robes of black
silk with long trains and hoods, preceded by
the inferior ministers, by thirty clergymen, in
surplices, whose deep bass voices perform the
plain or Ambrosian chaunt, and by the band of
wind-instruments and singers, who execute the
more artificial strains of modern or counterpoint
music, move in a long procession round the far-
thest ailes, each holding a branch of the oriental,
282 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
or date palm, which, overtopping the heads of
the assembled multitude, nod gracefully, and
bend into elegant curves at every step of the
bearers. For this purpose, a number of palm-
trees are kept with their branches tied up to-
gether, that by the want of light the more
tender shoots may preserve a delicate yellow
tinge. The ceremony of blessing these branches
is solemnly performed by the officiating priest,
previously to the procession, after which they
are sent by the clergy to their friends, who tie
them to the iron bars of the balconies, to be,
as they believe, a protection against lightning.
At the long church-service for this day, the
organ is silent, the voices being supported by
hautboys and bassoons. All the altars are
covered with purple or grey curtains. The
holy vestments, during this week, are of the
first-mentioned colour, except on Friday, when
it is changed for black. The four accounts of
our Saviour's passion appointed as gospels for
this day, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday,
are dramatized in the following manner. Out-
side of the gilt-iron railing which incloses the
presbytery, are two large pulpits of the same
materials, from one of which, at the daily high-
mass, the subdeacon chaunts the epistle, as
the deacon does the gospel from the other. A
moveable platform with a desk, is placed be-
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 283
tvveen the pulpits on the Passion-days ; and
three priests or deacons, in albes the white
vestment, over which the dalmatic is worn by
the latter, and the casulla by the former ap-
pear on these elevated posts, at the time when
the gospel should be said. These officiating
ministers are chosen among the singers in holy
orders, one a bass, another a tenor, and the
third a counter-tenor. The tenor chaunts the
narrative without changing from the key note,
and makes a pause whenever he comes to the
words of the interlocutors mentioned by the
Evangelist. In those passages the words of
our Saviour are sung by the bass, in a solemn
strain. The counter-tenor, in a more florid
style, personates the inferior characters, such
as Peter, the Maid, and Pontius Pilate. The
cries of the priests and the multitude are re-
presented by the band of musicians within the
choir.
PASSION-WEDNESDAY.
The mass begins within a white veil which
conceals the officiating priest and ministers,
and the service proceeds in this manner till
the words " the veil of the temple was rent in
twain" are chaunted. At this moment the veil
disappears, as if by enchantment, and the ears
of the congregation are stunned with the noise
284 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
of concealed fire-works, which are meant to
imitate an earthquake.
The evening service named Tinieblas (dark-
ness) is performed this day after sunset. The
cathedra], on this occasion, exhibits the most
solemn and impressive aspect. The high altar,
concealed behind dark grey curtains which fall
from the height of the cornices, is dimly lighted
by six yellow wax-candles, while the gloom
of the whole temple is broken in large masses
by wax torches, fixed one on each pillar of the
centre aile, about one-third of its length from
the ground. An elegant candlestick of brass,
from fifteen to twenty feet high, is placed, this
and the following evening, between the choir
and the altar, holding thirteen candles, twelve
of yellow, and one of bleached wax, distri-
buted on the two sides of the triangle which
terminates the machine. Each candle stands
by a brass figure of one of the apostles. The
white candle occupying the apex is allotted to
the Virgin Mary. At the conclusion of each
of the twelve psalms appointed for the ser-
vice, one of the yellow candles is extinguished,
till, the white taper burning alone, it is
taken down and concealed behind the altar.
Immediately after the ceremony, the Miserere,
as we call the fiftieth psalm, set, every
other year, to a new strain of music, is sung
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 285
in a grand style. This performance lasts
neither more nor less than one hour. At the
conclusion of the last verse the clergy break
up abruptly without the usual blessing, making
a thundering noise by clapping their moveable
seats against the frame of the stalls, or knock-
ing their ponderous breviaries against the
boards, as the Rubric directs.
THURSDAY IN THE PASSION WEEK.
The ceremonies of the high mass (the only
one which is publicly performed on this and
the next day) being especially intended as a
remembrance of the last supper, are, very
appropriately, of a mixed character a splen-
did commemoration which leads the mind from
gratitude to sorrow. The service, as it pro-
ceeds, rapidly assumes the deepest hues of
melancholy. The bells, which were joining in
one joyous peal from every steeple, cease at
once, producing a peculiar heavy stillness,
which none can conceive but those who have
lived in a populous Spanish town long enough
to lose the conscious sense of that perpetual
tinkling which agitates the ear during the day
and great part of the night.
A host, consecrated at the mass, is carried
with great solemnity to a temporary structure,
called the Monument, erected in every church
286 LETTERS FHOM' SPAIN.
with more or less splendour, according to the
wealth of the establishment. There it is de-
posited in a silver urn, generally shaped like a
sepulchre, the key of which, hanging from a
gold chain, is committed by the priest to the
care of one of the most respectable inhabitants
of the parish, who wears it round his neck as a
badge of honour, till the next morning. The
key of the Cathedral Monument is entrusted
to the archbishop, if present, or to the dean
in his absence.
The striking effect of the last-mentioned
structure is not easily conceived. It fills up
the space between four arches of the nave,
rising in five bodies to the roof of the temple.
The columns of the two lower tiers, which,
like the rest of the monument, imitate white
marble filletted with gold, are hollow, allowing
the numerous attendants who take care of the
lights that cover it from the ground to the very
top, to do their duty during four-and-twenty
hours, without any disturbance or unseemly
bustle. More than three thousand pounds of
wax, besides one hundred and sixty silver
lamps, are employed in the illumination.
The gold casket set with jewels, which con-
tains the host, lies deposited in an elegant
temple of massive silver, weighing five hun-
dred and ten marks, which is seen through a
LETTERS FROM SPATN. 287
blaze of light on the pediment of the monu-
ment. Two members of the chapter in their
choral robes, and six inferior priests in sur-
plices, attend on their knees before the shrine,
till they are relieved by an equal number of
the same classes at the end of every hour. This
act of adoration is performed without inter-
ruption from the moment of depositing the
host in the casket till that of taking it out the
next morning. The cathedral, as well as
many others of the wealthiest churches, are
kept open and illuminated the whole night.
One of the public sights of the town, on this
day, is the splendid cold dinner which the
archbishop gives to twelve paupers, in com-
memoration of the Apostles. The dinner is to be
seen laid out on tables filling up two large rooms
in the palace. The twelve guests are com-
pletely clothed at the expense of their host ;
and having partaken of a more homely dinner
in the kitchen, they are furnished with large
baskets to take away the splendid commons
allotted to each in separate dishes, which they
sell to the gourmands of the town. Each, be-
sides, is allowed to dispose of his napkin, curi-
ously made up into the figure of some bird or
quadruped, which people buy both as orna-
ments to their china cupboards, and as speci-
288 LETTERS FROM SPA IN.
mens of the perfection to which some of our
poorer nuns have carried the art of plaiting.
At two in the afternoon the archbishop, at-
tended by his chapter, repairs to the Cathe-
dral, where he performs the ceremony, which,
from the notion of its being literally enjoined
by our Saviour, is called the Mandatum. The
twelve paupers are seated on a platform erected
before the high altar, and the prelate, stripped
of his silk robes, and kneeling successively
before each, washes their feet in a large silver
bason.
About this time the processions, known by
the name of Cofradias, (Confraternities) begin
to move out of the different churches to which
they are attached. The head of the police ap-
points the hour when each of these pageants
is to appear in the square of the Town Hall,
and the Audienda or Court of Justice. From
thence their route to the Cathedral, and out of
it, to a certain point, is the same for all. These
streets are lined by two rows of spectators of
the lower classes, the windows being occupied
by those of a higher rank. An order is pre-
viously published by the town-crier, directing
the inhabitants to decorate their windows,
which they do by hanging out the showy silk
and chintz counterpanes of their beds. As to
the processions themselves, except one which
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 289
has the privilege of parading the town in the
dead of night, they have little to attract the
eye or affect the imagination. Their chief ob-
ject is to convey groups of figures, as large
as life, representing different scenes of our
Saviour's passion.
There is something remarkable in the es-
tablished and characteristic marks of some
figures. The Jews are distinguished by long-
aquiline noses. Saint Peter is completely bald.
The dress of the Apostle John is green, and
that of Judas Iscariot yellow ; and so inti-
mately associated is this circumstance with the
idea of the traitor, that it has brought that
colour into universal discredit. It is probably
from this circumstance (though yellow may
have been allotted to Judas from some more
ancient prejudice) that the Inquisition has
adopted it for the Sanbenito, or coat of infamy,
which persons convicted of heresy are com-
pelled to wear. The red hair of Judas, like
Peter's baldness, seems to be agreed upon by
all the painters and sculptors of Europe. Judas
hair is a usual name in Spain; and a similar ap
pellation, it should seem, was used in England
in Shakspeare's time. " His hair," says Rosa-
lind, in As you like it, " is of the dissembling
colour : " to which Celia answers " Some-
thin ' browner than Judas's."
290 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
The midnight procession derives consider-
able effect from the stillness of the hour, and
the dress of the attendants on the sacred image.
None are admitted to this religious act but the
members of that fraternity ; generally young
men of fashion. They all appear in a black
tunic, with a broad belt so contrived as to give
the idea of a long rope tied tight round the
body ; a method of penance commonly prac-
tised in former times. The face is covered with
a long black veil, falling from a sugar-loaf cap
three feet high. Thus arrayed, the nominal
penitents advance, with silent and measured
steps, in two lines, dragging a train six feet
long, and holding aloft a wax-candle of twelve
pounds, which they rest upon the hip-bone,
holding it obliquely towards the vacant space
between them. The veils, being of the same
stuff with the cap and tunic, would absolutely
impede the sight but for two small holes through
which the eyes are seen to gleam, adding no
small effect to the dismal appearance of such
strange figures. The pleasure of appearing in
a disguise, in a country where masquerades
are not tolerated by the Government, is a great
inducement to our young men for subscribing
to this religious association. The disguise, it
is true, does not in the least relax the rules of
strict decorum which the ceremony requires;
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 291
yet the mock penitents think themselves repaid
for the fatigue and trouble of the night by the
fresh impression which they expect to make on
the already won hearts of their mistresses, who,
by preconcerted signals, are enabled to distin-
guish their lovers, in spite of the veils and the
uniformity of the dresses.
It is scarcely forty years since the disgusting
exhibition of people streaming in their own
blood was discontinued by an order of the Go-
vernment. These penitents were generally from
among the most debauched and abandoned of
the lower classes. They appeared in white
linen petticoats, pointed white caps and veils,
and a jacket of the same colour, which exposed
the naked shoulders to view. Having, pre-
vious to their joining the procession, been sca-
rified on the back, they beat themselves with a
cat-o'-nine-tails, making the blood run down to
the skirts of their garment. It may be easily
conceived that religion had no share in these
voluntary inflictions. There was a notion afloat
that this act of penance had an excellent effect
on the constitution ; and while vanity was con-
cerned in the applause which the most bloody
flagellation obtained from the vulgar, a still
stronger passion looked forward to the irre-
sistible impression it produced on the strapping
belles of the lower ranks.
u2
292 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
GOOD FRIDAY.
The crowds of people who spent the evening
and part of the night of Thursday in visiting
the numerous churches where the host is en-
tombed, are still seen, though greatly thinned,
performing this religious ceremony till the be-
ginning of service at nine. This is, perhaps,
the most impressive of any used by the Church
of Rome. The altars, which, at the end of
yesterday's mass, were publicly and solemnly
stripped of their cloths and rich table-hangings
by the hands of the priest, appear in the same
state of distressed negligence. No musical
sound is heard, except the deep-toned voices of
the psalm, or plain chaunt singers. After a
few preparatory prayers, and the dramatized
history of the Passion, already described, the
officiating priest (the archbishop at the cathe-
dral) in a plain albe or white tunic, takes up a
wooden cross six or seven feet high, which,
like all other crosses, has for the last two weeks
of Lent been covered with a purple veil, and
standing, towards the people, before the middle
of the altar, gradually uncovers the sacred
emblem, which both the clergy and laity wor-
ship upon their knees. The prelate is then un-
shod by the assistant ministers, and taking the
cross upon his right shoulder, as our Saviour is
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. *2i)3
represented by painters on his way to Calvary,
he walks alone from the altar to the entrance of
the presbytery or chancel, and lays his burden
upon two cushions. After this, he moves back
some steps, and approaching the cross with
three prostrations, kisses it, and drops an obla-
tion of a piece of silver into a silver dish. The
whole chapter, having gone through the same
ceremony, form themselves in two lines, and
repair to the monument, from whence the offi-
ciating priest conveys the deposited host to
the altar, where he communicates upon it with-
out consecrating any wine. Here the service
terminates abruptly; all candles and lamps
are extinguished ; and the tabernacle, which
throughout the year contains the sacred wafers,
being left open, every object bespeaks the deso-
late and widowed state of the church from the
death of the Saviour to his resurrection.
The ceremonies of Good-Friday being short
and performed at an early hour, both the gay
and the devout would be at a loss how to spend
the remainder of the day, but for the grotesque
Passion Sermons of the suburbs and neighbour-
ing villages, and the more solemn performance
known by the name of Tres Horas three
hours.
The practice of continuing in meditation from
twelve to three o'clock of this day the time
294 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
which our Saviour is supposed to have hung on
the cross was introduced by the Spanish Je-
suits, and partakes of the impressive character
which the members of that order had the art
to impart to the religious practices by which
they cherished the devotional spirit of the
people. The church where the three hours are
kept is generally hung in black, and made im-
pervious to day-light. A large crucifix is seen
on the high altar, under a black canopy, with
six unbleached wax-candles, which cast a som-
bre glimmering on the rest of the church. The
females of all ranks occupy, as usual, the
centre of the nave, squatting or kneeling on
the matted ground, and adding to the dismal
appearance of the scene by the colour of their
veils and dresses.
Just as the clock strikes twelve, a priest in
his cloak and cassock ascends the pulpit, and
delivers a preparatory address of his own com-
position. He then reads the printed Medita-
tions on the Seven Words, or Sentences spoken
by Jesus on the cross, allotting to each such a
portion of time as that, with the interludes of
music which follow each of the readings, the
whole may not exceed three hours. The music
is generally good and appropriate, and, if a
sufficient band can be collected, well repays
to an amateur the inconvenience of a crowded
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 295
church, where, from the want of seats, the
male part of the congregation are obliged either
to stand or kneel. It is, in fact, one of the best
works of Haydn, composed, a short time ago,
for some gentlemen of Cadiz, who shewed
both their taste and liberality in thus procuring
this master-piece of harmony for the use of
their country. It has been lately published in
Germany, under the title of the " Sette Pa-
role."
Every part of the performance is so managed
that the clock strikes three about the end of
the meditation, on the words It is finished. The
picture of the expiring Saviour, powerfully
drawn by the original writer of the Tres Horas,
can hardly fail to strike the imagination when
listened to under the influence of such music
and scenery ; and when, at the first stroke of
the clock, the priest rises from his seat, and,
in a loud and impassioned voice, announces the
consummation of the awful and mysterious sa-
crifice, on whose painful and bloody progress
the mind has been dwelling so long, few hearts
can repel the impression, and still fewer eyes
can conceal it. Tears bathe every cheek, and
sobs heave every female bosom. After a part-
ing address from the pulpit, the ceremony con-
cludes with a piece of music, where the powers
of the great composer are magnificently dis-
296 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
played in the imitation of the disorder and
agitation of nature which the Evangelists
relate.
The Passion Sermons for the populace might
be taken for a parody of the Three Hours. They
are generally delivered, in the open air, by
friars of the Mendicant Orders, in those parts
of the city and suburbs which are chiefly, if
not exclusively, inhabited by the lower classes.
Such gay young men, however, as do not
scruple to relieve the dulness of Good-Friday
with a ride, and feel no danger of exposing
themselves by any unseasonable laughter, in-
dulge not unfrequently in the frolic of attend-
ing one of the most complete and perfect ser-
mons of this kind, at the neighbouring village
of Castilleja.
A moveable pulpit is placed before the church
door, from which a friar, possessed of a stento-
rian voice, delivers an improved history of the
Passion, such as was revealed to Saint Bridget,
a Franciscan nun, who, from the dictation of
the Virgin Mary, has left us a most minute and
circumstantial account of the life and death of
Christ and his mother. This yearly narrative,
however, would have lost most of its interest
but for the scenic illustrations which keep up
the expectation and rivet the attention of the
audience. It was formerly the custom to intro-
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN. 297
duce a living Saint Peter a character which
belonged by a natural and inalienable right to
the baldest head in the village who acted the
Apostle's denial, swearing by Christ, he did not
know the man. This edifying part of the per-
formance is omitted at Castilleja ; though a
practised performer crows with such a shrill
and natural note as must be answered with a
challenge by every cock of spirit in the neigh-
bourhood. The flourish of a trumpet announces,
in the sequel, the publication of the sentence
passed by the Roman governor; and the town
crier delivers it with legal precision in the
manner it is practised in Spain before an
execution. Hardly has the last word been
uttered, when the preacher, in a frantic passion,
gives the crier the lie direct, cursing the tongue
that has uttered such blasphemies.* He then
invites an angel to contradict both Pilate
and the Jews, when, obedient to the orator's
desire, a boy gaudily dressed, and furnished
with a pair of gilt pasteboard wings, appears
at a window, and proclaims the true verdict of
Heaven. Sometimes, in the course of the
preacher's narrative, an image of the Virgin
Mary is made to meet that of Christ, on his
* " Calla, mahlita lengua" the usual exclamation which
stops the crier, has become a jocular expression in Andalusia.
298 LETTERS FKOM SPAIN.
way to Calvary, both taking an affectionate
leave in the street. The appearance, however,
of the Virgin bearing a handkerchief to collect
a sum for her son's burial is never omitted,
both because it melts the whole female audi-
ence into tears, and because it produces a good
collection for the convent. The whole is closed
by the Descendimiento, or unnailing a crucifix
as large as life from the cross, an operation per-
formed by two friars, who, in the character of
Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, are seen
with ladders and carpenters' tools letting down
the jointed figure to be placed on a bier and
carried into the church in the form of a funeral.
I have carefully glided over such parts of this
absurd performance as would shock many an
English reader even in narrative. Yet such is
the strange mixture of superstition and profane-
ness in the people for whose gratification these
scenes are exhibited, that though any attempt
to expose the indecency of these shows would
rouse their zeal " to the knife," I cannot ven-
ture to translate the jokes and sallies of wit
that are frequently heard among the Spanish
peasantry upon these sacred topics.
SATURDAY BEFORE EASTER.
I have not been able to ascertain the reason
why the Roman Catholics celebrate the resur-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 299
rection this morning, with an anticipation of
nearly four and twenty hours, and yet continue
the fast till midnight or the beginning of Sun-
day. This practice is, I believe, of high anti-
quity.
The service begins this morning without
either the sound of bells or of musical instru-
ments. The Paschal Candle is seen by the north-
side of the altar. But, before I mention the size
of that used at our cathedral, I must protest
against all charges of exaggeration. It is, in
fact, a pillar of wax, nine yards in height, and
thick in proportion, standing on a regular mar-
ble pedestal. It weighs eighty arrobas, or two
thousand pounds, of twelve ounces. This can-
dle is cast and painted new every year, the old
one being broken into pieces on the Saturday
preceding Whitsunday, the day when part of
it is used for the consecration of the baptismal
font. The sacred torch is lighted with the new
Jire, which this morning the priest strikes out
of a flint, and it burns during service till Ascen-
sion day. A chorister in his surplice climbs up
a gilt-iron rod, furnished with steps like a flag-
staff, and having the top railed in, so as to ad-
mit of a seat on a level with the end of the
candle. From this crows nest, the young man
lights up and trims the wax pillar, drawing off
the melted wax with a large iron ladle.
300 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
High mass begins this day behind the great
veil, which for the two last weeks in Lent
covers the altar. After some preparatory pray-
ers, the priest strikes up the hymn Gloria in
excelsis Deo. At this moment the veil flies off,
the explosion of fireworks in the upper gal-
leries reverberates in a thousand echoes from
the vaults of the church, and the four-and-
twenty large bells of its tower awake, with their
discordant though gladdening sounds, those of
the one hundred and forty-six steeples which
this religious town boasts of. A brisk firing of
musketry, accompanied by the howling of the
innumerable dogs, which, unclaimed by any
master, live and multiply in our streets, adds
strength and variety to this universal din. The
firing is directed against several stuffed figures,
not unlike Guy Fawkes of the fifth of Novem-
ber, which are seen hanging by the neck on a
rope, extended across the least frequented
streets. It is then that the pious rage of the
people of Seville is vented against the archtrai-
tor Judas, whom they annually hang, shoot,
draw and quarter in effigy.
The church service ends in a procession
about the ailes. The priest bears the host in
his hands, visible through glass as a picture
within a medallion. The sudden change from
the gloomy appearance of the church and its
LETTERS FKOM SPA IX. 301
ministers, to the simple and joyous character of
this procession, the very name of Pasqua Flo-
rida, the flowery Passover, and, more than the
name, the flowers themselves, which well-dress-
ed children, mixed with the censer-bearers,
scatter on the ground, crowd the mind and heart
with the ideas, hopes, and feelings of renovated
life, and give to this ceremony, even for those
who disbelieve the personal presence of a Deity
triumphant over death, a character of inex-
pressible tenderness.
MAY CROSS.
The rural custom of electing a May Queen
among the country belles is, I understand,
still practised in some parts of Spain. The
name of Mala, given to the handsomest lass
of the village, who, decorated with garlands
of flowers, leads the dances in which the
young people spend the day, shews how little
that ceremony has varied since the time of the
Romans. The villagers, in other provinces, de-
clare their love by planting, during the preced-
ing night, a large bough or a sapling, decked with
flowers, before the doors of their sweethearts.
As most of our ancient church festivals were
contrived as substitutes for the Pagan rites,
which the Christian priesthood could not other-
wise eradicate, we still have some remnants of
the sanctified May-pole in the little crosses,
302 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
which the children ornament with flowers, and
place upon tables, holding as many lighted
tapers as, from the contributions of their friends,
they can afford to buy.
I have heard that the children at Cambridge
dress up a figure called the May-lady, and set-
ting it upon a table beg money of the passen-
gers. The difference between this and the
analogous Spanish custom arose, in all proba-
bility, from the respective prevalence in either
country of the May-pole, or the Maia. A figure
of the Virgin, which the Reformation has re-
duced to a nameless as well as shapeless pup-
pet, took place of the latter, while the cross was
employed to banish the former. I am inclined
to believe that the illuminated grottos of oys-
ter-shells, for which the London children beg
about the streets, are the representatives of
some Catholic emblem, which had its day as
a substitute for a more classical idol. I was
struck in London with the similarity of the
plea which the children of both countries urge
in order to obtain a halfpenny. The " it is but
once a year, sir !" often reminded me of the
La Cruz de Mayo
que no come ni bebe
en todo el ano.
The Cross of May
Remember pray,
Which fasts a year and feasts a day.
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. 303
CORPUS CHRIST!.
This is the only day in the year when the
consecrated Host is exposed about the streets
to the gaze of the adoring multitude. The tri-
umphal character of the procession which issues
forth from the principal church of every town
of note in the kingdom, and a certain dash of
bitter and threatening zeal which still lies dis-
guised under the ardent and boundless devo-
tion displayed on this festival, shew but too
clearly the spirit of defiance which suggested it
in the heat of the controversies upon the real
presence. It is within my memory that the
taste for dignity and decorum which this Me-
tropolitan Church has ever evinced in the per^
formance of religious worship, put an end to
the boisterous and unbecoming appendages
which an inveterate custom had annexed to
this pageant.
At a short distance in front of the procession
appeared a group of seven gigantic figures, male
and female, whose dresses, contrived by the
most skilful tailors and milliners of the town,
regulated the fashion at Seville for the ensuing
season. A strong man being concealed under
each of the giants and giantesses, they amused
the gaping multitude, at certain intervals, with
a very clumsy dance performed to the sound
304 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
of the pipe and tabor. Next to the Brobdig-
nag dancers, and taking precedence of all,
there followed, on a moveable stage, the figure
of a Hydra encircling a castle, from which, to
the great delight of all the children at Seville,
a puppet not unlike Punch, dressed up in a
scarlet jacket trimmed with morrice-bells,
used often to start up, and having performed a
kind of wild dance, vanished again from view
into the body of the monster. The whole of
this compound figure bore the name of Tarasca,
a word of which I do not know either the
meaning or derivation. That these figures were
allegorical no one can doubt who has any
knowledge of the pageants of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries. It would be dif-
ficult, however, without the help of an ob-
scure tradition, to guess that the giants in
periwigs and swords, and their fair partners
in caps and petticoats, were emblems of the
seven deadly sins. The Hydra, it should seem,
represented Heresy, guarding the castle of
Schism, where Folly, symbolized by the
strange figure in scarlet, displayed her supreme
command. This band of monsters was sup-
posed to be flying in confusion before the
triumphant sacrament.
Mixed with the body of the procession there
appeared three sets of dancers ; the Valencianos,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 305
or natives of the kingdom of Valencia, who, in
their national costume of loose waistcoats,
puffed linen sleeves, bound at the wrists and
elbows with ribbons of various colours, and
broad white trowsers reaching only to the
knees, performed a lively dance, mingling their
steps with feats of surprising agility ; after
these followed the sword-dancers in the old
martial fashion of the country ; and last of all,
the performers of an antiquated Spanish dance
I believe the Chacona, dressed in the national
garb of the sixteenth century.
A dance of the last-mentioned description,
and in a similar costume, is still performed be-
fore the high altar in the presence of the
chapter, at the conclusion of the service on
this day and the following se'nnight. The
dancers are boys of between ten and fourteen,
who, under the name of Seizes*, are maintained
at the college which the Cathedral supports for
the education of the acolytes, or inferior minis-
ters. These boys, accompanied by a full or-
chestra, sing a lyric composition in Spanish,
which, like the Greek choruses, consists of two
or three systems of metres, to which the dan-
cers move solemnly, going through a variety
* This name is, as far as I know, peculiar to Seville. The
similarity of its sound and that of sizar* used at Cambridge,
seems to denote a common origin in the two words.
X
306 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
of figures, in their natural step, till, ranged at
the conclusion of the song, in two lines facing
each other as at the outset, they end with a
gentle capriole, rattling the castanets, which
hitherto lay silent and concealed, in their hands.
That this grotesque performance should be al-
lowed to continue, is, I believe, owing to the
pride which this chapter take in the privilege,
granted by the Pope to the dancers, of wearing
their hats within view of the consecrated host
a liberty which the King himself cannot take,
and which, if I am not misled by report, no
one besides can boast of, except the Dukes of
Altamira, who, upon certain occasions, clap on
their hat, at the elevation of the host, and
draw the sword, as if shewing their readiness
to give a conclusive answer to any argument
against transubstantiation.
The Corpus Christi procession begins to move
out of the cathedral exactly at nine in the
morning. It consists in the first place of the
forty communities of friars who have convents
in this town. They follow one another in two
lines, according to the established order of pre-
cedence. The strangeness and variety of their
dresses, no less than their collective numbers,
would greatly strike any one but a Spaniard,
to whom such objects are perfectly familiar.
Next appears the long train of relics belonging
to the Cathedral, placed each by itself on a small
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 307
stage moved by one or more men concealed
under the rich drapery which hangs on its sides
to the ground. Vr*ses of gold and silver, of
different shapes and sizes, contain the various
portions of the inestimable treasure whereof
the following is an accurate catalogue :
A tooth of Saint Christopher.
An agate cup used at Mass by Pope Saint Clement,
the immediate successor of Saint Peter.
An arm of Saint Bartholomew.
A head of one of eleven thousand virgins.
Part of Saint Peter's body.
Ditto of Saint Lawrence.
Ditto of Saint Blaise.
The bones of the Saints Servandus and Germanus.
Ditto of Saint Florentius.
The Alphonsine tables, left to the Cathedral by King
Alphonso the Wise, containing three hundred relics.
A silver bust of Saint Leander, with his bones.
A thorn from our Saviour's crown.
A fragment of the true Cross.
Last of all appears the body of prebendaries
and canons, attended by their inferior ministers.
Such, however, is the length of the procession,
and the slow and solemn pace at which it pro-
ceeds, that, without a break in the lines, it
takes a whole hour to leave the church. The
streets, besides being hung up with more taste
than for the procession of the Passion Week,
are shaded all the way with a thick awning, and
x -2
308 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the pavement is strewed with rushes. An ar-
ticle of the military code of Spain obliges what-
ever troops are quartered in a town where this
procession takes place to follow it under arms,
and if sufficient in number, to line the streets
through which it is to pass.
Under all these circumstances, the first ap-
pearance of the host in the streets is exceedingly
imposing. Encircled by jewels of the greatest
brilliancy, surrounded by lighted tapers and en-
throned on the massive, yet elegant temple of
silver, already mentioned when describing the
Monument? no sooner has it moved to the door
of the church than the bells announce its pre-
sence with a deafening sound, the bands of mi-
litary music mix their animating notes with the
solemn hymns of the singers, clouds of incense
rise before the moving shrine, and the ear is
thrilled by the loud voice of command, and the
clash of the arms which the kneeling soldiers
strike down to the ground. When the con-
cealed bearers of the shrine t present it at the
top of the long street where the route com-
mences, the multitudes which crowd both the
pavement and windows, fall prostrate in pro-
found adoration, without venturing to rise up till
the object of their awe is out of sight. Flowers
* See page 286. t See Letter II. p. 39.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 309
are often scattered from the windows, and the
most beautiful nosegays adorn the platform of
the moveable stage.
Close behind the host follows the archbishop,
surrounded by his ecclesiastical retinue. One
of his chaplains carries a large double cross
of silver, indicative of metropolitan dignity.
The train of the purple mantle is supported by
another clergyman. These, like the rest of the
prelate's attendants and pages, are young men
of family, who disdain not this kind of service
in the expectation of high church preferment.
But what gives all this state the most unexpect-
ed finish is an inferior minister in his surplice
bearing a circular fan of richly embroidered silk
about two feet in diameter, and attached to a
silver rod six feet in length. At a convenient
distance from the archbishop this fan is con-
stantly waved, whenever, during the summer
months, he attends the cathedral service, thus
relieving him from the oppressive effects of his
robes under the burning sun of Andalusia.
This custom is, T believe, peculiar to Seville.
SAINT JOHN'S EVE.
Feelings far removed from those of devotion
prevail in the celebration of the Baptist's festi-
val. Whether it is the inviting temperature of
a midsummer night, or some ancient custom
;' 9^
310 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
connected with the present evening, " Saint
John," says the Spanish proverb, " sets every
girl a gadding." The public walks are crowded
after sunset, and the exclusive amusement of
this night, flirtation, or in the Andalusian phrase
pelar la Pava, (plucking the hen-turkey) begins
as soon as the star-light of a summer sky, un-
broken by the partial glare of lamps, enables
the different groups to mix with a liberty ap-
proaching that enjoyed in a masquerade. No-
thing in this kind of amusement possesses more
zest than the chat through the iron bars of the
lower windows, which begins about midnight.
Young ladies, who can compose their mamas to
sleep at a convenient hour, glide unperceived
to the lower part of the house, and sitting on
the window-sill, behind the lattice-work, which
is used in this country instead of blinds, wait,
in the true spirit of adventure, (if not pre-en-
gaged to a dull, common-place matrimonial
prelude,) for the chance sparks, who, mostly in
disguise, walk the streets from twelve till dawn.
Such, however, as the mere love of mirth in-
duces to pass the night at the windows, gene-
rally engage another female companion, a sister,
a friend, and often a favourite maid, to take a
share in the conversation, and by a change of
characters to puzzle their out-of-doors visitors.
These, too, when not seriously engaged, walk
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 311
about in parties, each assuming such a charac-
ter as they consider themselves most able to
support. One pretends to be a farmer just ar-
rived from the country, another a poor mecha-
nic, this a foreigner speaking broken Spanish,
that a Gatlego, making love in the less intelli-
gible dialect of his province. The gentlemen
must come provided with no less a stock of
sweetmeats (which from the circumstance of
being folded each separately in a piece of
paper are called Papelillos] than of lively small
talk and wit. A deficiency in the latter is un-
pardonable; so that a bore, or Majadero*, if not
ready to quit the post when bidden, is soon left
to contemplate the out-side of the window-
shutters. The habitual distance at which the
lower classes are kept from those above them,
prevents any disagreeable meddling on their
part ; and the ladies who indulge in these fro-
lics, feel perfectly safe from intrusion and im-
pertinence.
The sauntering about the fields, practised by
the populace of Madrid on the same night, is
there called " Coger la Verbena," gathering Ver-
vain ; an appellation evidently derived from an
ancient superstition which attributed preterna-
tural powers to that plant when gathered at
* A word derived from the verb Majur, to beat in a mortar.
312 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
twelve o'clock on St. John's Eve. The noc-
turnal rambles of the present times, much as
they might alarm the guardians of public mo-
rals, if such an office existed among us, need
not give any uneasiness on the score of witch-
craft to the Reverend Inquisitors.
SAINT BARTHOLOMEW.
The commemoration of this Apostle takes
place on the 24th of August. It is not, how-
ever, to record any external circumstance con-
nected with this church festival which, in
fact, is scarcely distinguished by any peculiar
solemnity that I take notice of it, but for a
private superstitious practice which strikes me
as a most curious modification of one used by
the pious housewives in the days of Augustus.
Intermittent fevers, especially the Tertian
and Quartan, are very common in most parts
of Andalusia. The season when they chiefly
attack the inhabitants is summer ; and whether
the unbounded use, which all sorts of people,
but particularly the poor, make of grapes and
melons, contributes to the production of the
disease, or whether the mere coincidence of
the two facts is, as usual, taken for cause and
effect, it is an established opinion in this part
of the country that, if fruit is not the original
source of the ague, an abstinence from that
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 313
kind of food is indispensable to avoid a relapse
into that treacherous complaint.
That there should be a particular Saint,
to superintend the medical department of
curing the ague, is so perfectly consistent
with the Catholic notions, that a deficiency
on that point would more surprise me than
to find a toe exempt from the influence of
some heavenly aspect in the Vox Stellarum,
which was one of my wonders in England.
That province, in fact, is allotted to Saint
Bartholomew. Now, nine-pence is a sufficient
inducement for any of our sons of Esculapius
to mount his mule as well as his wig, and dose
you with the most compound electuary he is
master of; but how to fee a supernatural doc-
tor would be a puzzling question, were it not
that tradition teaches the method of propitiat-
ing every individual mentioned in the calendar.
Each Saint has a peculiar fancy from Saint
Anthony of Padua, who will often delay the
performance of a miracle till you plunge him
into a well, or nail bis print topsy-turvy upon
the wall, to Saint Pasqual Baylon, who is
readiest to attend such as accompany their
petitions with some lively steps and a final
caper. As to Saint Bartholomew, nothing will
induce him to cure an ague but a vow to abs-
tain, on the day of his festival, from all food
314 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
except bread and fruit the very means which,
but for his miraculous interference, would, ac-
cording to common opinion, cause either a re-
turn or an aggravation of the complaint.
Mark, now, the vow employed by the Ro-
man matrons for the cure of intermittents. It
is recorded by Horace, and thus translated b}
Francis :
" Her child beneath a quartan fever lies
For full four months, when the fond mother cries,
Sickness and health are thine, all-powerful Jove ;
Then, from my son this dire disease remove,
And when your priests thy solemn fast proclaim,
Naked the boy shall stand in Tiber's stream.
Should chance, or the physician's art, upraise
Her infant from the desperate disease,
The frantic dame shall plunge her hapless boy,
Bring back the fever, and the child destroy."*
The existence of Heathen superstitions
adapted to Christian worship is too common
* Jupiter, ingentes qui das adimisque dolores,
(Mater ait pueri menses jam quinque cubantis,)
Frigida si puerum quartana reliquerit, illo
Mane, die quo tu indicis jejunia, nudus
In Tiberi stabit. Casus, medicusve levarit
JEgrum ex precipiti ; mater delira necabit
IB gelida fixtun ripa, febrimque reducet.
HOR. SAT. L. II. 3. 288.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 315
to excite surprise ; nor is it any similarity in
the externals of the two practices I have just
compared that constitutes their analogy. My
mind is struck alone by the unchangeable spirit
of superstition, which, attributing in all ages
and nations, our own passions and feelings to
supernatural beings, endeavours to obtain their
favour by flattering their vanity. Both the
ancient Roman and modern Spanish vow for
the cure of the ague, seem to set at defiance
the supposed and most probable causes of the
disease, from which the devotees seek deliver-
ance, as if to secure to the patron deities the
undoubted and full honour of the miracle.
DETACHED PREJUDICES AND PRACTICES.
Having mentioned the superstitious method
used in this country for the cure of the ague,
I wish to introduce a short account of some
popular prejudices more or less connected with
the prevalent religious notions. I shall proba-
bly add a few facts under this head, for no
better reason than that I do not know how to
class them under any other.
There is an allusion in Hudibras to an anti-
quated piece of gallantry which I believe may
be illustrated by a religious custom to which I
316 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
was sometimes subjected in my childhood.
The passage runs thus :
I '11 carve your name on barks of trees
With true love-knots and flourishes,
And Drink every letter on 't in stum,
And wake it brink Champaignt become*.
The latter compliment is paid by sick persons
to the Virgin Mary, in the hopes of recovering
health through her intercession. An image
is worshipped at one of the principal parish
churches in this town, under the title of the
Virgin of Health. The charm of this denomi-
nation draws numbers to the sanctuary, which,
being in the centre of the wealthiest popula-
tion, derives considerable splendour from their
offerings. In exchange for these they often re-
ceive a sheet of printed paper containing at re-
gular intervals the words Salus injirmorum, in a
very small type. In case of illness, one of the
lines is cut off, and, being coiled into a small
roll, the patient swallows it in a glass of water.
The room where a person lies dangerously
ill, generally contains more relics and amulets
than the chimney-piece of an invalid, under the
care of a London apothecary, holds phials of
all shapes and sizes. The friends of a lady
near her confinement, vie with each other in
procuring her every kind of supernatural assist-
* Hudibras, Part II. Canto 1.
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN 317
ance for the trying hour ; when, strange to say,
she is often dressed in the episcopal robes of
some saint, which are supposed to act most ef-
fectually when in contact with the body of the
distressed petitioner. But whatever patrons
the ladies may choose to implore in those cir-
cumstances, there are two whose assistance, by
means of relics, pictures, or the apparel of their
images, is never dispensed with. The names
of these invisible accoucheurs are Saint Ray-
mundus Nonnatus, and Saint Vincent Ferrer.
That the former should be considered as pecu-
liarly interested in such cases, having, as his
addition implies, been extracted from the womb
of his dead mother, is perfectly clear and natu-
ral. But Ferrer s sympathy requires a slight
explanation.
That saint a native of Valencia, and a monk
of the order of Saint Dominic, possessed the
gift of miracles in such a degree, that he per-
formed them almost unconsciously, and not un-
frequently in a sort of frolic. Being applied
to, on a certain occasion, by a young married
lady, whom the idea of approaching maternity
kept in a state of constant terror, the good-na-
tured Saint desired her to dismiss her fears, as
he was determined to take upon himself what-
ever inconvenience or trouble there might be in
the case. Some weeks had elapsed, when the
318 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
good Monk, who had forgotten his engagement,
was heard in the dead of night roaring and
screaming in a manner so unusual, and so little
becoming a professional Saint, that he drew the
whole community to his cell. Nothing, for a
time, could relieve the mysterious sufferings,
and though he passed the rest of the night as
well as could be expected, the fear of a relapse
would have kept his afflicted brethren in pain-
ful suspense, had not the grateful husband of
the timid lady who was the cause of the up-
roar, taken an early opportunity to return thanks
for the unconscious delivery of his consort. Saint
Vincent, though according to tradition, per-
fectly unwilling to stand a second time proxy
for nervous ladies, is, from a very natural sym-
pathy, constantly in readiness to act as the male
Lucina of the Spanish matrons.
FUNERALS OF INFANTS AND MAIDS.
From the birth to the death of a child the
passage is often so easy that I shall make it
an apology for the abruptness of the present
transition. The moral accountableness of a
human being, as I have observed before, does
not, according to Catholic divines, begin till
the seventh year; consequently, such as die
without attaining that age, are, by the effect of
their baptism, indubitably entitled to a place in
LETTERS FROM SPA IK. 319
heaven. The death of an infant is therefore a
matter of rejoicing to all but those in whose
bosoms nature speaks too loud to be controlled
by argument. The friends who call upon the
parents, contribute to aggravate their bitterness
by wishing them joy for having increased the
number of angels. The usual address on these
occasions is Angditos al Cielo! Little Angels to
Heaven an unfeeling compliment, which never
fails to draw a fresh gush of tears from the eyes
of a mother. Every circumstance of the fune-
ral is meant to force joy upon the mourners.
The child, dressed in white garments, and
crowned with a wreath of flowers, is followed
by the officiating priest in silk robes of the
same colour; and the clergymen who attend
him to the house from whence the funeral pro-
ceeds to the church, sing in joyful strains the
psalm Laudate, pueri, Dominum, while the bells
are heard ringing a lively peal. The coffin,
without a lid, exposes to the view the little
corpse covered with flowers, as four well-
dressed children bear it, amidst the lighted
tapers of the clergy. No black dress, no signs
of mourning whatever are seen even among the
nearest relatives ; the service at church be-
speaks triumph, and the organ mixes its enli-
vening sounds with the hymns, which thank
death for snatching a tender soul, when, through
320 LETTLKS FKOM SPAIN.
a slight and transient tribute of pain, it could
obtain an exemption from the power of sorrow.
Yet no funerals are graced with more tears ;
nor can dirges and penitential mournings pro-
duce even a shadow of the tender melancholy
which seizes the mind at the view of the formal
and affected joy with which a Catholic infant
is laid in his grave.
A young unmarried woman among us
" is allowed her virgin crants,*
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial."
In addition to the wreath of flowers, a palm-
branch is put into a maid's hand ; an emblem
of victory against the allurements of love,
which many a poor fair conqueror would have
willingly exchanged for a regular defeat. They
are dressed in every other respect like nuns,
and the coffin is locked up, -and covered with a
black velvet pall, as in all other funerals.
The preceding passage in Hamlet begins with
an allusion to a very ancient custom, which is
still observed in Spain at the monumental
crosses erected on the highways to those who
have perished by the hands of robbers.
" For charitable prayers,
Sherds, flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her."
* Garlands.
-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 321
This is literally done by every peasant when
passing one of those rude and melancholy mo-
numents. A heap of stones is always observed
at the foot of the cross ; not, however, instead
of prayers, as the passage would seem to imply,
but as a tale by which the number of Patef-
nosters said by the compassionate passengers
might be reckoned. The antiquity of this
Christianized custom might appear, from a pas-
sage in the Book of Proverbs, to be very great.
The proverb or sentence, translated as it is in
the margin of the English Bible, runs thus : "As
he that putteth a precious stone in a heap, so is
he that giveth honour to a fool."*
The Latin version which, you must know, is
of great antiquity, and was made the basis of
Jerom's, about the middle of the fourth cen-
tury, renders this proverb in a remarkable
manner. Sicut qui mittit lapidem in acervum
Mercurii ; ita qui tribuit insipienti honorem. As
he that casts a stone on the heap of Mercury,
&c. &c. Now, bearing in mind that stones are
at this day thrown upon certain graves in
Spain; that, according to the passage in Shak-
speare, a similar custom seems to have pre-
vailed in other parts of Europe; and that
Jerom believed he rendered the spirit of the
Hebrew proverb by translating the word which
* Proverbs xxvi. 8.
V
322 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the English Divines doubted, whether to con-
strue a sling, or a heap of stones, by the phrase
acervus Mercurii ; a deity, whose statues were
frequently placed over sepulchres among the
Romans bearing all this in mind, I say, it
appears to me that the custom of covering-
some graves with stones thrown at random,
must have existed in the time of the writer of
the Proverbs. Perhaps I may be allowed to
conjecture that it originated in the punishment
of stoning, so common among the Jews ; that
passengers flung stones, as a mark of abhor-
rence, on the heap which hid the body of
the criminal; that the primitive Christians,
many of whom were Jews, followed the same
method of shewing their horror of heathen
tombs, till those places came to be known, in
Jerom's time, by the appellation of heaps of
Mercury ; that modern Christians applied the
same custom to the graves of such as had been
deemed unworthy of consecrated ground; and,
finally, that the frequency of highway rob-
beries and murders in Spain detached the cus-
tom from the idea of crime, and softened a mark
of detestation into one of prayer and intercession
for the unfortunate victim.
SPANISH CHRISTIAN NAMES.
The extraordinary devotion of the Catholics,
especially in this country, to the Virgin Mary,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 323
and the notion, supported by the clergy, that
as many Saints as have their names given to a
child at baptism, are in some degree engaged to
take it under their protection, occasion a na-
tional peculiarity, not unworthy of remark. In
the first place few have less than half a dozen
names entered in the parish register, a list of
which is given to the priest that he may read
them out in the act of christening the child. It
would be difficult indeed under these circum-
stances, for most people to know exactly their
own names, especially if, like myself, they have
been favoured with eleven. The custom of the
country, however, allows every individual to
forget all but the first in the list. In our devo-
tion to the Virgin, we have hitherto avoided
the strange solecism of the French Monsieur
Marie, though almost every other Spaniard has
Maria for a second name.
The titles given to the innumerable images of
the Virgin Mary, which supply the usual names
of our females, might occasion the most ludi-
crous puns or misnomers, if habit had not di-
verted the mind from their real meaning. No
names are more common than Encarnacion, In-
carnation Conception, Conception Visitation,
Visitation Maravillas, Marvels Regla, Rule
Dolores, Pains Angustias, Anguishes Sole-
dad, SutttudeNativulad, Nativity, &c. Other
Y 2
324 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
titles of the Virgin afford, however, more agree-
able associations. Such are Estrdla, Star
Aurora Amparo, Protection Esperanza, Hope
Salud, Health Pastora, Shepherdess Rocio,
Dew, &c. But words, as it is said of the cha-
meleon, take the colour of the objects to which
they are attached ; and I have known Pains
and Solitudes among our Andalusians, who, had
they been more numerous, might have produced
a revolution in the significations of the lan-
guage.
CHRISTMAS.
Since no festival of any interest takes place
between summer and this season, it is already
time to conclude these notes with the expiring
year.
It was the custom, thirty or forty years since,
among families of fortune, to prepare, for an al-
most public exhibition, one or two rooms of the
house, where, upon a clumsy imitation of rocks
and mountains, a great number of baby-houses
and clay figures, imitating the commonest ac-
tions of life, were placed amidst a multitude of
lamps and tapers. A ruinous stable, surrounded
by sheep and cattle, was seen in the front of the
room, with the figures of Joseph, Mary, and
some shepherds, kneeling in adoration of the
child in the manger an act which an ass and
an ox imitated with the greatest composure.
This collection of puppets, called Naeimiento, is
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 325
still, though seldom intended for show, set up
in many houses, both for the amusement and
the religious gratification of the family and their
more intimate friends.
At the period which I have just mentioned,
the Nacimientos were made a pretext for col-
lecting a large party, and passing several nights
in dancing, and some of the national amuse-
ments described in the article of Carnival. The
rooms being illuminated after sunset, not only
the friends of the family were entitled to enjoy
the festivities of the evening, but any gentle-
man giving his name at the door, might intro-
duce one or more ladies, who, if but known by
sight to the master of the house, would be re-
quested to join in the amusements which fol-
lowed. These were singing, dancing, and, not
unfrequently, speeches, taken from the old Spa-
nish plays, and known by the name of Rdacio-
nes. Recitation was considered till lately as an
accomplishment both in males and females ;
and persons who were known to be skilled in
that art, stood up at the request of the com-
pany to deliver a speech with all the gesticula-
tion of our old school of acting, just as others
gratified their friends by performing upon an
instrument. A slight refreshment of the Christ-
mas cakes, called Oxaldres, and sweet wines or
home-made liqueurs, was enough to free the
house from the imputation of meanness : thus
326 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
mirth and society were obtained at a moderate
expense. But the present Nacimientos seldom
afford amusement to strangers ; and with the
exception of singing carols to the sound of the
zambomba, little remains of the old festivities.
I must not, however, omit a description of
the noisy instrument whose no less sounding
name I have just mentioned. It is general in
most parts of Spain at this season, though never
used at any other. A slender shoot of reed
(Arundo Donax) is fixed in the centre of a piece
of parchment, without perforating the skin,
which, softened by moisture, is tied, like a
drumhead, round the mouth of a large earthen
jar. The parchment, when dry, acquires a
great tension, and the reed being slightly co-
vered with wax allows the clenched hand to
glide up and down, producing a deep hoHow
sound of the same kind as that which proceeds
from the tambourin when rubbed with the
middle finger.
The church service on Christmas Eve begins
at ten in the night and lasts till five in the
morning. This custom is observed by every
church in the town ; nor does their number, or
the unseasonableness of the hour, leave the
service unattended in any. The music at the
Cathedral is excellent. It is at present con-
fined to part of the Latin prayers, but was, till
within a few years, used in a species of dra-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 327
raatic interludes in the vulgar tongue, which
were sung, not acted, at certain intervals of
the service. These pieces had the name of
Villancicos, from Villano, a clown, shepherds
and shepherdesses being the interlocutors in
these pastorals. The words, printed at the ex-
pense of the Chapter, were distributed to the
public, who still regret the loss of the wit and
humour of the Swains of Bethlehem.
The custom of the country requires a formal
call between Christmas and Twelfth-day, on all
one's acquaintance; and tables are placed in
the house squares, or Patios, to receive the
cards of the visitors. Presents of sweetmeats
are common between friends ; and patients
send to their medical attendants the established
acknowledgment of a turkey ; so that Doctors
in great practice open a kind of public market
for the disposal of their poultry. These turkeys
are driven in flocks by gipseys, who patiently
walk in the rear of the ungovernable phalanxes,
from several parts of Old Castile, and chiefly
from Salamanca. The march which they per-
form is of no less than four hundred miles, and
lasts about one half of the year. The turkeys,
which are bought from the farmers mere
chickens, acquire their full growth, like your
fashionables, in travelling, and seeing the world.
328 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
LETTER X.
Madrid, 1807.
MY removal to this capital has been sudden
and unexpected. My friend Leandro, from whom
I am become inseparable, was advised by his
physicians to seek relief from a growing melan-
choly the effect of a mortal aversion to his
professional duties, and to the intolerant reli-
gious system with which they are connected
in the freedom and dissipation of the court ; and
I found it impossible to tear myself from him.
The journey from Seville to Madrid, a dis-
tance of about two hundred and sixty English
miles, is usually performed in heavy carriages
drawn by six mules, in the space of from ten
to eleven days. A party of four persons is
formed by the coachman (Mayoral) who fixes
the day and hour for setting out, arranges the
length of the stages, prescribes the time for
getting up in the morning, and even takes care
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 329
that every passenger attends mass on a Sunday,
or any other church festival during the journey.
As it was, however, of importance not to delay
my friend's removal from Seville, we chose the
more expensive conveyance by posting, and,
having obtained a passport, we set off in an
open and half foundered chaise the usual
vehicles till within thirty miles of Madrid.
You will form some idea of our police and
government from the circumstance of our be-
ing obliged to take our passport, not for
Madrid, but Salamanca, in order thus to
smuggle ourselves into the capital. The minis-
ter of Gratia y Justicia, or home department,
Caballero, one of the most willing and odious
instruments of our arbitrary court, being an-
noyed by the multitude of place-hunters, whom
we denominate Pretendientes, who flocked to
Madrid from the provinces, has lately issued
an order forbidding all persons whatever to
come to the capital, unless they previously ob-
tain a royal licence. To await the King's plea-
sure would have exposed us to great incon-
venience, and probably to a positive denial.
But as the minister's order was now two or
three months old, a period at which our court-
laws begin to grow obsolete, and we did not
mean to trouble his excellency, we trusted to
luck and our purse as to any little obstacles
330 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
which might arise from the interference of in-
ferior officers.
I shall not detain you with a description of
our journey, the delays at the post-houses, our
diminished haste at Valdepenas for the sake of
its delicious wine just as it is drawn from the
immense earthen-jars, where it is kept buried
in the ground, and, finally, the ugly but close
and tight post-chaises drawn by three mules
abreast, which are used from Aranjuez to Ma-
drid. I do not love description, probably be-
cause I cannot succeed in it. You will, there-
fore, have the goodness to apply for a picture
of this town (for I wish you to remark that it is
not reckoned among our cities] in Burgoing,
Townsend, or some other professed traveller.
My narrative shall, as hitherto, be limited to
what these gentlemen were not likely to see or
understand with the accuracy and distinctness
of a native.
The influence of the court being unlimited
in Spain, no object deserves a closer examina-
tion from such as wish to be acquainted with
the moral state of this country. I must there-
fore, begin with a sketch of the main sources
of that influence, carefully excluding every re-
port which has reached me through any but
the most respectable channels, or an absolute
notoriety. The fountain-head of power and
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 331
honours among us has, till lately, Ibeen the
Queen, a daughter of the late Duke of Parma,
a very ugly woman, now fast approaching old
age, yet affecting youth and beauty. She had
been but a short time married to the present
King, then Prince of Asturias, when she dis-
covered a strong propensity to gallantry, which
the austere and jealous temper of her father-
in-law Charles III. was scarcely able to check.
Her husband, one of those happy beings born
to derive bliss from ignorance, has ever pre-
served a strong and exclusive attachment to
her person, which, combined with a most lu-
dicrous simplicity, closes his mind against
every approach of suspicion.
The first favourite of the Princess, that
awakened the old King's jealousy, was a gen-
tleman of his son's household, named Ortiz.
Concerned for the honour of the Prince, no less
than for the strictness of morals, which, from
religious principles, he had anxiously preserved
in his court, he issued an order, banishing Ortiz
to one of the most distant provinces. The
Princess, unable to bear this separation, and well
acquainted with the character of her husband,
engaged him to obtain the recall of Ortiz from
the King. Scrupulously faithful to his promise,
the young Prince watched the first opportunity
to entreat his father's favour, and falling upon his
332 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
knees, he asked the boon of Ortiz's return,
gravely and affectingly urging that " his wife
Louisa was quite unhappy without him, as he
used to amuse her amazingly." The old King,
surprised and provoked by this wonderful sim-
plicity, turned his back upon the good-natured
petitioner, exclaiming : Calla, tonto ! Dexalo
irse : Que simple que eres ! " Hold your tongue,
booby ! Let him go : What a simpleton thou
art!"
Louisa deprived, however, of her entertaining
Ortiz, soon found a substitute in a young officer
named Luis de Godoy. He was the eldest of
three brothers, of an ancient but decayed fa-
mily in the province of Estremadura, who
served together in the Horse-Guards, a corps
exclusively composed of gentlemen, the lowest
ranks being filled by commissioned officers.
Scarcely had this new attachment been formed,
when the old King unmercifully nipped it in
the bud, by a decree of banishment against Don
Luis. The royal order was, as usual, so press-
ing, that the distressed lover could only charge
his second brother Manuel with a parting mes-
sage, and obtain a promise of his being the
bearer of as many tokens of constancy and de-
spair, as could be safely transmitted by the
post.
It is a part of the cumbrous etiquette of the
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 333
Spanish Court to give a separate guard to every
member of the royal family, though all live
within the King's palace, and to place sentinels
with drawn swords at the door of every suite
of apartments. This service is performed with-
out interruption day and night by the military
corps just mentioned. Manuel Godoy did not
find it difficult to be on duty in the Prince's
guard as often as he had any letter to deliver.
A certain tune played on the flute, an instru-
ment with which that young officer used to be-
guile the idle hours of the guard, was the sig-
nal which drew the Princess to a private room to
which the messenger had secret, but free access.
There is every reason to believe that Luiss
amorous dispatches had their due effect for some
weeks, and that his royal mistress lived almost
exclusively upon their contents. Yet time was
working a sad revolution in the fortunes of the
banished lover. Manuel grew every day more
interesting, and the letters less so, till the
faithless confidant became the most amusing of
mortals to the Princess, and consequently a fa-
vourite with her good-natured husband.
The death of the old King had now removed
every obstacle to the Queen's gallantries, and
Manuel Godoy was rapidly advanced to the
highest honours of the state, and the first ranks
of the army. But the new sovereign did not
334 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
yet feel quite easy upon the throne ; and the
dying King's recommendation of his favourite
Floridablanca, by prolonging that minister's
power, still set some bounds to the Queen's
caprices. Charles IV. though perfectly under
his wife's control, could not be prevailed upon
to dismiss an old servant of his father without
any assignable reason, and some respect for
public opinion, a feeling which seldom fails to
cast a transient gleam of hope on the first days
of every reign, obliged the Queen herself to
employ other means than a mere act of her will
in the ruin of the premier. He might, however,
have preserved his place for some time, and
been allowed to retire with his honours, had
not his jealousy of the rising Godoy induced
him to oppose the tide of favour which was now
about to raise that young man to a Grandee-
ship of the first class. To provide for the splen-
dour of that elevated rank, the Queen had in-
duced her husband to bestow upon Godoy a
princely estate, belonging to the crown, from
which he was to take the title of Duke de la
Alcudia. Floridablanca, whether from princi-
ple, or some less honourable motive, thought it
necessary to oppose this grant as illegal ; and
having induced the King to consult the Council
of Castille upon that point, he endeavoured to
secure an answer agreeable to his wishes by
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 335
means of a letter to his friend the Count Cifu-
entes. Most unluckily for the minister, before
this letter arrived from San Ildefonso, where
the court was at that time, the president was
seized with a mortal complaint, and the dis-
patches falling into the hands of his substitute
Canada, were secretly transmitted to the Queen.
It is needless to add, that the report of the
council was favourable, that Godoy was made
Duke de la Alcudia, and that both he and the
Queen were now wholly bent upon their op-
poser's ruin.
During Floridablanca's influence with the
King, a manuscript satire had been circulated
against that minister, in which he was charged
with having defrauded one Salucci, an Italian
banker connected with the Spanish Govern-
ment. Too conscious, it should seem, of the
truth of the accusation, Floridablanca suspect-
ed none but the injured party of being the con-
triver and circulator of the lampoon. The ob-
noxious composition was, however, written in
better Spanish than Salucci could command,
and the smarting minister could not be satisfied
without punishing the author. His spies hav-
ing informed him that the Marquis de Manca,
a man of wit and talent, was intimate at Sa-
lucci's, he had no need of farther proofs against
him. The banker was immediately banished
336 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
out of the kingdom, and the poet confined to
the city of Burgos, under the inspection and
control of the civil authorities.
But the time was now arrived when these
men, who were too well acquainted with the
state of Spain to look for redress at the hands
of justice, were to obtain satisfaction from the
spirit of revenge which urged the Queen to seek
the ruin of her husband's minister. Charles IV.
being informed of Floridablanca's conduct to-
wards Salucci and Manca, the last was recalled
to Court. His enemy's papers, including a
large collection of billets-doux were seized and
put into the Marquis's hands, to be used as do-
cuments in a secret process instituted against
the minister, who, according to his own rules
of justice, was, in the mean time, sent a pri-
soner to the fortress of Pamplona. His con-
finement, however, was not prolonged beyond
the necessary time to ruin him in the King's opi-
nion ; and- upon the marriage of two of the
Royal Princesses, an indulto, or pardon, was is-
sued, by which, though declared guilty of em-
bezzling forty-two millions of reals, he was en-
larged from his close confinement, and allowed
to reside at Murcia, his native town.
I am not certain, however, whether Florida-
blanca's dismissal did not shortly precede his
accusation by Manca, as the immediate conse-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN". 337
quence of his efforts to make the King join the
coalition against France after the death of
Louis XVI. Charles IV. was, it seems, the
only sovereign in Europe, who felt no alarm at
the fate of the unfortunate Louis ; and had more
at heart the recollection of a personal slight
from his cousin, than all the ties of common
interest and blood. Charles had learned that,
on his accession to the throne of Spain, the
usual letter of congratulation being presented
for signature to Louis, that monarch humor-
ously observed, that he thought the letter
hardly necessary, "for the poor man," he said,
" is a mere cypher, completely governed and
henpecked by his wife." This joke had made
such a deep impression on the King, as to draw
from him, when Louis was decapitated, the
unfeeling and almost brutal remark, that " a
gentleman so ready to find fault with others
did not seem to have managed his own affairs
very well." The Count de Aranda, who, in
the cabinet councils, had constantly voted for
peace with France, was appointed, in February
1792, to succeed Floridablanca. But the turn
of affairs, and the pressing remonstrances of
the allied sovereigns, altered the views of
Charles ; and having, at the end of seven
months, dismissed Aranda with all the honours
of his office, Godoy, then Duke of Alcudia, was
338 LETTERS FROM SPA IX.
appointed his successor to begin hostilities
against France. I need not enter into a narra-
tive of that ill -conducted and disastrous war.
An appearance of success cheered up the Spa-
niards, always ready to fight with their neigh-
bours on the other side of the Pyrenees. But
the French armies having received reinforce-
ments, would have soon paid a visit to Charles
at Madrid, if his favourite minister, with more
address than he ever discovered in his subse-
quent management of political affairs, had not
concluded and ratified the peace of Basle.
The fears of the whole country at the pro-
gress of the French arms had been so strong,
that peace was hailed with enthusiasm; and
the public joy, on that occasion, would have
been unalloyed but for the extravagant re-
wards granted to Godoy for concluding it. A
new dignity above the grandeeship was created
for him alone, and, under the title of Prince of
the Peace, Godoy was placed next in rank to
the Princes of the royal blood.
There was but one step in the stale of ho-
nours which could raise a mere subject higher
than the Queen's favour had exalted Godoy a
marriage into the royal family. But the only
distinction which love seemed not blind enough
to confer on the favourite, he actually owed to
the jealousy of his mistress.
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 339
Among the beauties whom the hope of the
young minister's favour drew to Madrid from
all parts of Spain, there was an unmarried lady
of the name of Tudo, a native of Malaga, whose
charms both of person and mind would have
captivated a much less susceptible heart than
Godoy's. From the moment she was presented
by her parents, La Tudo (we are perfectly un-
ceremonious in naming ladies of all ranks) ob-
tained so decided a supremacy above the nu-
merous sharers in the favourite's love, that the
Queen, who had hitherto overlooked a crowd of
occasional rivals, set her face against an attach-
ment which bid fair to last for life. It had, in-
deed, subsisted long enough to produce unques-
tionable proof of the nature of the intimacy, in
a child whose birth, though not blazoned forth
as if sanctioned by public opinion, was not hid-
den with any consciousness of shame. A re-
port being circulated at court, that the Prince
of the Peace was secretly married to La Tudo,
the Queen, in a fit of jealousy, accused him to
the King as guilty of ingratitude, in thus having
allied himself to a woman of no birth, without
the slightest mark of deference to his royal be-
nefactors. The King, whose fondness for Go-
doy had grown above his wife's control, seemed
inclined to discredit the story of the/ marriage ;
but, being at that time at one of the royal coun-
z 2
340 LETTERS FKO.M SPAIN 1 .
try residences called Sitios the Escurial, I be-
lieve, where the ministers have apartments
within the palace, the Queen led her husband
through a secret passage, to a room where they
surprised the lovers taking their supper in a
comfortable tete-a-tete.
The feelings excited by this sight must have
J
been so different in each of the royal couple,
that one can scarcely feel surprised at the
strangeness of the result. Godoy had only to
deny the marriage to pacify the King, whose
goodnature was ready to make allowances for a
mere love-intrigue of his favourite. The Queen,
hopeless of ever being the exclusive object of
the gallantries of a man to whom she was
chained by the blindest infatuation, probably
feared lest the step she had taken should tear
him away from her presence. A slave to her
vehement passions, and a perfect stranger to
those delicate feelings which vice itself cannot
smother in some hearts, she seemed satisfied
with preventing her chief rival from rising above
her own rank of a mistress ; and, provided the
place of a wife was occupied by one to whom
her paramour was indifferent, she wished to see
him married, and be herself the match-maker.
The King's late brother, Don Luis, who, in
spite of a cardinal's hat, and the archbishoprick
of Seville, conferred on him before he was of age
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 341
to take holy orders, stole a kind of left-handed
marriage with a Spanish lady of the name of
Vallabriga, had left two daughters and a son,
under the guardianship of the archbishop of
Toledo. Though not, hitherto, allowed to take
their father's name, these children were consi-
dered legitimate ; and it is probable that the
King had been desirous of putting them in pos-
session of the honours due to their birth, long
before the Queen proposed the eldest of her
nieces both as a reward for Godoy's services,
and a means to prevent in future such sallies
of youthful folly as divided his attention be-
tween pleasure and the service of the crown.
These or similar reasons (for history must con-
tent herself with conjecture, when the main
springs of events lie not only behind the curtain
of state, but those of a four-post bed) produced
in the space of a few weeks, a public recogni-
tion of Don Luis's children, and the announce-
ment of his eldest daughter's intended marriage
with the Prince of the Peace.
The vicious source of Godoy's unbounded
power, the temper of the Court where he en-
joyed it, and the crowd of flatterers which his
elevation had gathered about him, would pre-
clude all expectation of any great or virtuous
qualities in his character. Yet there ara facts
connected with the beginning of his govern-
342 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
ment which prove that he was not devoid of
those vague wishes of doing good, which, as
they spring up, are " choked with cares and
riches and pleasures of this world." I have
been assured by an acute and perfectly disin-
terested observer, whose high rank gave him
free access to the favourite during part of the
period when with the title of Duke de la Al-
cudia he was at the head of the Spanish mi-
nistry, that " there was every reason to believe
him active, intelligent, and attentive in the dis-
charge of his duty ; and that he was perfectly
exempt from all those airs and affectation which
men who rise by fortune more than merit are
apt to be justly accused of." Though, like all the
Spanish youth brought up in the military pro-
fession, he was himself unlettered, he shewed
great respect for talents and literature in the
formation of the ministry which succeeded
his own, when, from his new rank and his
marriage into the royal family, he was con-
sidered above the duties of office.
Saavedra, whom he made first minister of
state, is a man of great natural quickness, im-
proved both by reading and the observation of
real life ; but so irresolute of purpose, so
wavering in judgment, so incapable of deci-
sion, that, while in office, he seemed more fit
to render public business interminable than to
LETTERS FROM SPAIN'.
direct its course in his own department. Jo-
vellanos, appointed to be Saavedra's colleague,
is justly considered as one of the living orna-
ments of our literature. Educated at Sala-
manca in one of the Colegios Mayorts, before
the reform which stripped those bodies of their
honours and influence, he was made a judge in
his youth, and gradually ascended to one of
the supreme councils of the nation. His up-
right and honourable conduct in every stage of
his life, both public and private, the urbanity
of his manners, and the formal elegance of his
conversation, render him a striking exemplifi-
cation of the old Spanish Cavallero. With the
virtues and agreeable qualities of that charac-
ter, he unites many of the prejudices peculiar
to the period to which it belongs. To a most
passionate attachment to the privileges and
distinctions of blood, he joins a superstitious
veneration for all kinds of external forms.
The strongest partialities warp his fine under-
standing, confining it, upon numerous subjects,
to distorted or limited views. As a judge and
a man of letters, he was respected and admired
by all. As a chief justice in any of our pro-
vincial courts of law, he would have been a
blessing to the people of his district ; while
the dignified leisure of that situation would
have enabled him to enrich our literature with
344 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the productions of his elegant mind. As a
minister, however, through whose hands all
the gifts of the Crown were to be distributed
to a hungry country, where two-thirds of the
better classes~k>ok up to patronage for a com-
fortable subsistence, he disappointed the hopes
of the nation. At Court, his high notions of
rank converted his rather prim manner into
downright stiffness; and his blind partiality
for the natives ofAsturias, his province pro-
bably because he thought them the purest
remnant of Gothic blood in Spain made him
the most unpopular of ministers. Instead of
promoting the welfare of the nation by mea-
sures which gradually, and upon a large scale,
might counteract the influence of a profligate
Court, he tried to oppose the Queen's established
interference, in detail. She once made a per-
sonal application to Jovellanos in favour of a
gertain candidate for a prebendal stall. The
minister gave her a flat denial, alleging that
the person in question had not qualified him-
self at any of the universities. " At which of
them," said the Queen, ' did you receive your
education?" " At Salamanca, Madam."
*' What a pity," rejoined she, " that they for-
got to teach you manners !"
While employed in this petty warfare, which
must have soon ended in his dismissal, a cir-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 345
cumstance occurred, which, though for a short
time it reconciled the Queen to Jovellanos, has
finally consigned him to a fortress in Majorca,
where to this day he lingers under a confine-
ment no less unjust than severe.
The ceremony of Godoy's marriage was
scarcely over, when he resumed his intimacy
with La Tudd in the most open and unguarded
manner. The Queen, under a relapse of jea-
lousy, seemed so determined to clip the wings
of her spoiled favourite, that Jovellanos was
deceived into a hope of making this pique the
means of reclaiming his patron, if not to the
path of virtue, at least to the rules of external
propriety. Saavedra, better acquainted with
the world, and well aware that Godoy could,
at pleasure, resume any degree of ascendancy
over the Queen, entered reluctantly into the
plot. Not so Jovellanos. Treating this Court
intrigue as one of the regular lawsuits on which
he had so long practised his skill and imparti-
ality, he could not bring himself to proceed
without serving a notice upon the party con-
cerned. He accordingly forwarded a remon-
strance to the Prince of the Peace, in which he
reminded him of his public and conjugal du-
ties in the most forcible style of forensic and
moral eloquence. The Queen, in the mean
time, had worked up her husband into a feeling
346 LKTTi.RS FROM SPAIN.
approaching anger against Godoy, and the
decree for his banishment was all but signed
before the offending gallant thought himself
in such danger as to require the act of sub-
mission which alone could restore him to the
good graces of his neglected mistress. He
owed, however, his safety to nothing but Saa-
vedra's indecision and dilatoriness. That mi-
nister could not be persuaded to present the
decree of banishment for the royal signature
till the day after it had been agreed upon.
Godoy, in the mean time, obtained a private
interview with the Queen, who under the influ-
ence of a long-checked and returning passion,
in order to exculpate herself, represented the
Ministers the very men whom Godoy had
raised into power as the authors of the plot,
and probably attributed the plan to Jovellanos,
making him from this moment the marked ob-
ject of the favourite's resentment.
The baffled Ministers, though not immediately
dismissed, must have felt the unsteadiness of
the ground on which they stood, and dreaded
the revenge of an enemy who had already
shewn, in the case of Admiral Malaspina, that
he was both able and willing to wreak it on
the instruments of the Queen's jealousy. That
officer, an Italian by birth, had just returned
from a voyage round the globe, performed at
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 347
the expense of this Government, when the
Queen, who found it difficult to regulate the
feelings of her husband towards Godoy to the
sudden and rapid variations of her own, induced
her confidant the Countess of Matallana to en-
gage him in drawing up a memorial to the
King, containing observations on the public and
private conduct of the favourite, and represent-
ing him in the blackest colours. Malaspina
was at this time preparing the account of his
voyage for publication, with the assistance
of a conceited sciolist, a Sevillian friar called
Padre Gil, who, in our great dearth of. real
knowledge, was looked upon as a miracle of
erudition and eloquence. The Admiral, put-
ting aside his charts and log-books, eagerly
collected every charge against Godoy which
was likely to make an impression upon the
King, while the friar, inspired with the vision
of a mitre ready to drop on his head, clothed
them in the most florid and powerful figures
which used to enrapture his audience from the
pulpit. Nothing was now wanting but the
Queen's command to spring the mine under the
feet of the devoted Godoy, when the intended
victim, informed of his danger, and taking ad-
vantage of one of those soft moments which
made the Queen and all her power his own,
drew from her a confession of the plot, together
348 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
with the names of the conspirators. In a few
days, Malaspina found himself conveyed to a
fortress, where, with his voyage, maps, scien-
tific collections, and every thing relating to the
expedition, he remains completely forgotten ;
while the reverend writer of the memorial was
forwarded under an escort to Seville, the scene
of his former literary glory, to be confined in a
house of correction where juvenile offenders of
the lower classes are sent to undergo a salutary
course of flogging.
The Queen was preparing the dismissal of
Saavedra and Jovellanos, when a dangerous
illness of the former brought forward a new
actor in the intricate drama of Court intrigue,
who, had he known how to use his power,
might have worked the complete ruin of its
hero.
The First Clerk of the Secretary of State's
Office a place answering to that of your un-
der-secretary of State was a handsome young
man, called Urquijo. His name is probably not
unknown to you, as he was a few years ago with
the Spanish Ambassador in London, where his
attachment to the French jacobins and their mea-
sures could not fail to attract some notice, from
the unequivocal and heroic proof of self-devo-
tion which he shewed to that party. It was,
in fact, an attempt to drown himself in the pond
I, El T K Ji S FRO Al S P A I X .
at Kensington Gardens, upon learning the peace
made by Buonaparte with the Pope at Tolen-
tino ; a treaty which disappointed his hopes of
seeing the final destruction of the Papal See,
and Rome itself a heap of ruins, in conformity
to a decree of the French Directory. Fortune,
however, having determined to transform our
brave Sans-Culotte into a courtier, afforded him
a timely rescue from the muddy deep ; and
when, under the care of Doctor V- , he had
been brought to understand how little his
drowning would influence the events of the
French war, he returned to Madrid, to wield his
pen in the office where his previous qualifica-
tion of Joven fie Lenguax*, had entitled him to
a place, till he rose, by seniority, to that of
Under-Secretary.
Every Spanish minister has a day appointed
in th& course of the week called Dia de Des-
pacho when he lays before the King the con-
tents of his portfolio, to dispose of them ac-
cording to his Majesty's pleasure. The Queen,
who is excessively fond of powerf, never fails
* Young men are appointed to go abroad with the Spanisli
ambassadors in order to learn foreign languages, and thus
qualify themselves as diplomatists.
t It is a well known fact that there are letters in existence
addressed by her while Princess of Asturias to the judges in
the provinces, asking their votes in pending lawsuits.
,350 LKTTEUS FROM Sl'AIX.
to attend on these occasions. The minister,
during this audience, stands, or, if desired, sits
on a small stool near a large table placed be-
tween him and the King and Queen. The love
of patronage, not of business, is, of course, the
object of the Queen's assiduity ; while nothing
but the love of gossip enables her husband to
endure the drudgery of these sittings. During
Saavedra's ministry, his Majesty was highly de-
lighted with the premier's powers of conversa-
tion, and his inexhaustible fund of good stories.
The portfolio was laid upon the table ; the Queen
mentioned the names of her proteges, and the
King, referring all other business to the deci-
sion of the minister, began a comfortable chat,
which lasted till bed-time. When Saavedra
was taken with that sudden and dangerous ill-
ness which Godoy's enemies were inclined to
attribute to -poison, (a suspicion, however,
which both the favourite's character, and his
subsequent lenity towards Saavedra, absolutely
contradict) the duty of carrying the portfolio to
the King devolved upon the Under-secretary.
Urquijo's handsome person and elegant man-
ners made a deep impression upon the Queen ;
and ten thousand whispers spread the im-
portant news, the next morning, that her
Majesty had desired the young clerk to take
a seat.
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 351
This favourable impression, it is more than
probable, was heightened by a fresh pique
against Godoy, whose growing disgust of his
royal mistress, and firm attachment to La
Tudo, offered her Majesty daily subjects of
mortification. She now conceived the plan of
making Urquijo, not only her instrument of re-
venge, but, it is generally believed, a substi-
tute for the incorrigible favourite. But in this
amorous Court even a Queen can hardly find a
vacant -heart ; and Urquijo's was too deeply
engaged to one of Godoy's sisters to appear
sensible of her Majesty's condescension. He
mustered, however, a sufficient portion of gal-
lantry to support the Queen in her resolution
of separating Godoy from the Court, and de-
priving him of all influence in matters of go-
vernment.
It is, indeed, surprising that the Queen's re-
sentment proceeded no farther against the man
who had so often provoked it, and that his dis-
grace was not attended with the usual con-
sequences of degradation and imprisonment.
Many and powerful circumstances combined,
however, in Godoy's favour the King's almost
parental fondness towards him the new minis-
ter's excessive conceit of his own influence and
abilities, no less than his utter contempt of the
discarded favourite and, most of all, the
LETTERS FROM SPAIN'.
Queen's imextinguished and ever reviving pas-
sion, backed by her fears of driving to extre-
mities a man who had, it is said, in his power
the means of exposing her without condemn-
ing himself.
During Saavedra's ministry, and that inter-
val of coldness produced by Godoy's caprici-
ous gallantries, which enabled his enemies to
make the first attempt against him, his royal
mistress had conceived a strong fancy for one
Mallo, a native of Caraccas, and then an ob-
scure Garde du Corps. The rapid promotion of
that young man, and the display of wealth and
splendour which he began to make, explained
the source of his advancement to every one but
the King. Godoy himself seerns to have been
stung with jealousy, probably not so much
from his rival's share in the Queen's affections,
as from the ill-concealed vanity of the man,
whose sole aim was to cast into shade the
whole Court. Once, as the King and Queen,
attended by Godoy and other grandees of the
household, were standing at the balcony of the
royal seat El Pardo, Mallo appeared at a dis-
tance, driving four beautiful horses, and at-
tended by a brilliant retinue. The King's eye
was caught by the beauty of the equipage,
and he inquired to whom it belonged. Hear-
ing that it was Mallo's " I wonder," he said,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 353
" how that fellow can afford to keep such
horses." " Why, please your Majesty," re-
plied Godoy, " the scandal goes, that he him-
self is kept by an ugly old woman I quite for-
get her name."
Mallo's day of prosperity was but short.
His vanity, coxcombry, and folly,displeased the
King, and alarmed the Queen. But in the first
ardour of her attachments, she generally had
the weakness of committing her feelings to
writing ; and Mallo possessed a collection of
her letters. Wishing to rid herself of that ab-
surd, vain fop, and yet dreading an exposure,
she employed Godoy in the recovery of her
written tokens. Mallo's house was surrounded
with military in. the dead of night; and he was
forced to yield the precious manuscripts into
the hands of his rival. The latter, however,
was too well aware of their value to deliver
them to the writer, and he is said to keep
them as a powerful charm, if not to secure his
mistress's affection, at least to . subdue her fits
of fickleness and jealousy. Mallo was soon
banished, and forgotten.
The two ministers, Saavedra and Jovellanos,
had been rusticated to their native provinces ;
the first, on account of ill health ; the second,
from the Queen's unconquerable dislike. Ur-
quijo, who seems to have been unable either to
2 A
354 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the King's esteem, or fully to return the
Queen's affection, could keep his post no longer
than while the latter's ever ready fondness for
Godoy was not awakened by the presence of
its object. The absence of the favourite, it is
generally believed, might have been prolonged
by good policy, and management of the King
on the part of Urquijo, if his rashness and con-
ceit of himself had ever allowed him to suspect
that any influence whatever was equal to that
of his talents and person. Instead of strongly
opposing a memorial of the Prince of the Peace,
asking permission to kiss their majesties' hands
upon the birth of a daughter borne, to him by
the Princess his wife, Urquijo imagined the
Queen so firmly attached to himself, that he
conceived no danger from this transient visit of
his offended rival. Godoy made his appear-
ance at Court ; and from that moment Urquijo's
ruin became inevitable. His hatred of the
Court of Rome had induced the latter to en-
courage the translation of a Portuguese work,
against the extortions of the Italian Dataria, in
cases of dispensations for marriage within the
prohibited degrees. Thinking the public mind
sufficiently prepared by that work, he pub-
lished a royal mandate to the Spanish bishops,
urging them to resume their ancient rights of
dispensation. This step had armed against its
JLSTTERS FROM SPAIN. 3.35
author the greater part of the Clergy ; and the
Prince of the Peace found it easy to alarm the
King's conscience by means of the Pope's nun*
cio, Cardinal Casoni, who made him believe
that his minister had betrayed him into a mea*
sure which trespassed upon the rights of the
Roman Pontiff. I believe that Godoy's grow-
ing dislike of the Inquisition spared Urquijo
the horrors of a dungeon within its precincts.
He had not, however, sufficient generosity to
content himself with the banishment of his
enemy to Guipuzcoa. An order for his impri-
sonment in a fortress followed him thither in a
short time a circumstance, however, which
might raise a suspicion that Urquijo had em-
ployed his personal liberty to make a second
attempt against the recalled favourite.
This supposition would be strongly sup-
ported by the general mildness of Godoy's
administration, if one instance of cruel and
implacable revenge were not opposed to so
favourable a view of his conduct. Whether the
Queen represented Jovellanos to the Prince of
the Peace as the chief actor in ithe first plot
which was laid against him, or that hue charged
that venerable magistrate with ingratitude for
taking any share in a conspiracy against the
man who had raised him to power, Godoy had
scarcely been restored to his former influence,
2 A 2
356 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
when he procured an order to confine Jovel-
lanos in the Carthusian Convent of Majorca.
The unmanliness of this second and long-medi-
tated blow roused the indignation of his fallen
and hitherto silent adversary, calling forth that
dauntless and dignified inflexibility which makes
him, in our days, so fine a specimen of the old
Spanish character. From his confinement he
addressed a letter to the King, exposing the in-
justice of his treatment in terms so removed
from the servile tone of a Spanish memorial, so
regardless of the power of his adversary, that
it kindled anew the resentment of the favourite,
through whose hands, he well knew, it must
make its way to the throne. Such a step was
more likely to aggravate than to obtain redress
for his wrongs. The virtues, the brilliant ta-
lents, and courtly address of Jovellanos had so
gained upon the affections of the monks, that
they treated him with more deference than
even a minister in the height of his power
could have expected. Godoy's spirit of re-
venge could not brook his enemy's enjoyment
of this small remnant of happiness ; and with a
cruelty which casts the blackest stain on his
character, he removed him to a fortress in the
same island, where under the control of an illi-
terate and rude governor, he is deprived of all
communication, and limited to a small number of
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 357
books for his mental enjoyment. The character
of the gaoler may be conceived from the fact of
his not being able to distinguish a work from a
volume. Jovellano's friends are not allowed to
relieve his solitude with a variety of books,
even to the number contained in the governor's
instructions ; for he reckons literary works by
the piece, and a good edition of Cicero, for in-
stance, appears to him a complete library.*
From this restoration to favour, the Prince
of the Peace has been gradually and constantly
gaining ascendancy. The usual titles of honour
being exhausted upon him, the antiquated dig-
nity of High-Admiral has been revived and con-
ferred upon him, just at the time when your
tars have left us without a navy. Great emolu-
ments and the address of Highness have been
annexed to this dignity. A brigade of cavalry,
composed of picked men from the whole army,
has been lately given to the High- Admiral as
a guard of honour. His power, in fine, though
delegated, is unlimited, and he may be pro-
perly said to be the acting Sovereign of Spain.
The King, by the unparalleled elevation of this
favourite, has obtained his" heart's desire in a
perfect exemption from all sorts of employment,
except shooting, to which he exclusively de-
See Note K.
358 LETTERS PROM SPA IX.
votes every day of the year. Soler, the mi-
nister of finance, is employed to fleece the
people; and Caballero, in the home depart-
ment, to keep them in due ignorance and sub-
jection. I shall just give you a sample of each
of these worthies' minds and principles. It
has been the custom for centuries at Valladolid
to make the Dominican Convent of that town
a sort of bank for depositing sums of money,
as it was done in the ancient temples, under
similar circumstances of ignorance of com-
merce and insecurity of property. Soler, being
informed that the monks held in their hands a
considerable deposit, declared " that it was an
injury to the state to allow so much money to
lie idle," and seizing it, probably for the Queen,
whose incessant demands form the most press-
ing and considerable item of the Spanish
budget, gave government-paper to the monks,
which the creditors might sell, if they chose, at
eighty per cent discount. Caballero, fearing
the progress of all learning, which might dis-
turb the peace of the Court, sent, not long
since, a circular order to the Universities, for-
bidding the study of moral philosophy: "His
Majesty," it was said in the order, " was not
in want of philosophers, but of good and obe-
dient subjects."
Under the active operation of this system,
LILTTJiUJy FHOM SPAIN. 359
the Queen has the command of as much money
and patronage as she desires ; and finding it
impracticable to check the gallantries of her
cher ami, has so perfectly conquered her jea-
lousy as to be able not only to be on the most
amicable terms with him, but to emulate his
love of variety in the most open and impudent
manner.
I wish to have done with the monstrous heap
of scandal, which the state of our Court has
unavoidably forced into my narrative. Much,
indeed, I leave untold ; but I cannot omit an
original and perfectly authentic story, which,
as it explains the mystery of the King's other-
wise inexplicable blindness respecting his wife's
conduct, justice requires to be made public.
The world shall see that his Majesty's apathy
does not arise from any disgraceful indiffer-
ence for what is generally considered by men
as a vital point of honour ; but that the peace
and tranquillity of his mind is grounded on a
philosophical system I do not know whether
physical or moral which is, I believe, peculiar
to himself.
The old Duke del I (on the authority of
whose lady I give you the anecdote) was once
with other grandees in attendance on the King,
when his Majesty, being in high gossipping
humour, entered into a somewhat gay conver-
360 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
sation on the fair sex. He descanted, at some
length, on fickleness and caprice, and laughed
at the dangers of husbands in these southern
climates. Having had his fill of merriment on
the topic of jealousy, he concluded with an
air of triumph "We, crowned heads, however,
have this chief advantage above others, that
our honour, as they call it, is safe ; for sup-
pose that queens were as much bent on mis-
chief as some of their sex, where could they
find kings and emperors to flirt with ? Eh ?"
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 361
LETTER XL
Madrid, 1807.
IN giving you a sketch of private life at Ma-
drid, I shall begin by a character quite peculiar
to the country, and well known all over Spain
by the name of Pretendientes, or place-hunters.
Very different ideas, however, are attached to
these denominations in the two languages.
Young men of the proudest families are regu-
larly sent to Court on that errand, and few gen-
tlemen destine their sons either for the church
or the law, without calculating the means of
supporting them three or four years at Madrid,
as regular and professed place-hunters. The
fact is, that, with the exception of three stalls
in every cathedral, and in some collegiate
churches, that are obtained by literary compe-
tition, there is not a single place of rank and
emolument to which Court interest is not the
exclusive road. Hence the necessity for all
who do not possess an independent fortune, in
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
other words, for more than two thirds of the
Spanish gentry, to repair to the capital, there
to procure that interest by whatever means
their circumstances may afford.
The Pretendientes may be divided into four
classes. Clergymen, who aspire to any prefer-
ment not inferior to a prebend : lawyers, who
wish to obtain a place on the bench of judges
in one of our numerous courts, both of Spain
and Spanish America : men of business, who
desire to be employed in the collection of the
revenue; and advocates, whose views do not
extend beyond a -Corregimiento a kind of Re-
conkrship with very limited judicial powers,
which exists in every town of any note where
there is not an Audienda, or superior tribunal.
I shall dispatch the last two classes in a few
words.
Between our Advocates or barristers, and the
superior judges, called Qidores, there is such a
line of distinction, as to be almost an insuper-
able barrier. A young man, who, having stu-
died Roman law at the University, attends
three or four years at an acting advocate's
chambers, is, after an examination on Spanish
law, qualified to plead at the courts of justice.
But once engaged in this branch of the law, he
must give up all hopes of rising above that
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 363
doubtful rank which his profession gives him
in society. Success may make him rich, but he
must be contented with drudging for life at the
bar of a provincial court, and bear the slighting
and insolent tone with which the judges consi-
der themselves at liberty to treat the advocates.
It is, therefore, not uncommon among young
lawyers who cannot command interest enough
to be placed on the bench, to offer themselves
as candidates for a Corregimiento. Having
scraped together a little money, and procured a
few letters of recommendation, they repair to
Madrid, where they are seen almost daily in the
minister's waiting-room with a petition, and a
printed list of their university degrees and lite-
rary qualifications, called Paptl de Meritos,
which, after two or three hours attendance, they
think themselves happy if his excellency will
take from their hands. Such as can obtain an
introduction to some of the grandees who have
the right to appoint magistrates on their estates,
confine themselves to the easier, though rather
more humiliating task of toad-eating to their
patron.
The Pretcndicntes for the higher branches of
finance, must be able to make a more decent
appearance at Court, if they hope for suc-
cess. It is not, however, the minister for that
364 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
department, who is most to be courted in order
to obtain these lucrative places. A recommen-
dation from the Queen, or from the Prince of the
Peace, generally interferes with his views, if he
allows himself to have any of his own. To ob-
tain the first, a handsome figure, or some pleas-
ing accomplishment, such as singing to the gui-
tar in the Spanish style, are the most likely
means, either by engaging her Majesty's atten-
tion, or the affections of some of her favourite
maids of honour. The no less powerful recom-
mendation of the Prince of the Peace is, I must
say in justice to him, not always made the re-
ward of flattery, or of more degrading servility.
Justice and a due regard for merit, are, it is true,
far from regulating the distribution of his patron-
age : yet, very different from the ministers who
tremble before him, he can be approached by
every individual in the kingdom, without an in-
troduction, and in the certainty of receiving a
civil, if not a favourable answer. His great
failing, however, being the love of pleasure,
none are so sure of a gracious reception as
those who appear at his public levees attended
by a handsome wife or blooming daughter.
The fact is so well known all over the country,
and I blush to say it the national character is
so far sinking under the influence of this profli-
gate government, that beauties flock from every
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 365
province for the chance of being noticed by the
favourite. His public levee presents every
week a collection of the handsomest women in
the country, attended by their fathers or hus-
bands. A suit thus supported is never known
to fail.
The young aspirants to a toga, or judge's
gown, often succeed through some indirect in-
fluence of this kind. The strange notion that
an advocate one that has pleaded causes at the
bar has, in a manner, disqualified himself for
the bench, leaves the administration of justice
open to inexperienced young men, who, having
taken a degree in Roman law, and nominally
attached themselves for a short time to an
advocate, as practitioners, are suddenly raised
to the important station of judges, either by
marrying any of the Queen's maids of honour,
or some more humble beauty on whom the
Prince of the Peace has cast a transient gleam of
favour. I have known such a reward extended
to the sister of a temporary favourite, who be-
ing poor and in love with a young man of
family, poor himself, and hopeless of otherwise
obtaining a place, enabled him to marry, by
bringing a judge's gown for her portion. Yet
so perfectly can circumstances alter the con~
nexion which some moral feelings have be-
tween themselves under certain forms and mo-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
difications of society, that the man I allude to,
as having owed his promotion to such objec-
tionable influence, is an example of justice and
impartiality in the difficult station in which he
has been placed. I do not mean, however,
that a person who degrades his character with
a view to promotion, gives a fair promise of
honourable principles when called to discharge
the duties of a public office ; the growing ve-
nality of our judges is too sad and clear a proof
of the reverse. But when a Government be-
comes so perfectly abandoned as to block up
with filth and pollution every avenue to wealth,
power, and even bare subsistence, men who, in
a happier country, would have looked upon the
contaminated path with abhorrence, or, had
they ventured a single step upon it, would have
been confirmed in their degradation by the in-
delible brand of public censure, are seen to yield
for a moment to the combined influence of
want and example, and recover themselves so
far as almost to deserve the thanks of the
people for having snatched a portion of autho-
rity from the grasp of the absolutely worthless.
Before I proceed to the remaining class of
Pretendientes, allow me, as a relief from the
contemplation of this scene of vice and cor-
ruption, to acquaint you with a man in power
who, unwarped by any undue influence, has
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 3C7
uniformly employed his patronage in the en-
couragement of modest and retiring merit. His
name is Don Manuel Sixto Espinosa. His father
was a musician, who having had the good for-
tune to please the King by his tasteful perform-
ances on the piano, was appointed teacher of
that instrument to the Royal Family. His son,
a young man of great natural abilities, which
he had applied to the study of finance and po-
litical economy, (branches of knowledge little
attended to in Spain,) had been gradually raised
to a place of considerable influence in that de-
partment, when his well-known talents made
the Prince of the Peace fix upon him as the
fittest man to direct the establishment for the
consolidation of the public debt. Espinosa, as
Director of the Sinking Fund, has been ac-
cused of impiety by the clergy, for trespassing
on their overgrown privileges, and blamed, by
such as allow themselves to canvass state mat-
ters in whispers, for not opposing the misappli-
cation of the funds he enables Government to
collect. It would be needless to answer the
first charge. As to the second, common can-
dour will allow that it is unfair to confound the
duties of a collector with those of a trustee of
the national revenue.
Without, however, entering upon the only
remaining question, whether, in the unfortunate
368 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
circumstances of this country, it is an honest
man's duty to refuse his services to a Govern-
ment whose object is to fleece the subject in
order to pamper its own vices - a doctrine
doubtful in theory, and almost inapplicable in
practice, Espinosa has qualities acknowledged
by all who know him, and even undenied by
his enemies, which, without raising him into an
heroic model of public virtue, make him a
striking instance of the power of virtuous and
honourable principle, in the midst of every al-
lurement and temptation which profligacy arm-
ed with supreme power can employ. Inacces-
sible to influence, his patronage has uniformly
been extended to men of undoubted merit. A
manuscript Essay on Political Economy, writ-
ten by a friendless young man and presented to
Espinosa, was enough to obtain the author a
valuable appointment. A decided enemy to
the custom of receiving presents, so prevalent
in Spain as to have become a matter of course
in every suit, either for justice or favour, I
positively know, that when a commercial trans-
action, to the amount of millions, between this
Government and a mercantile house in London
had received his approbation, Espinosa sent
back a hamper of wine, which one of the part-
ners had hoped, from its trifling value, he would
have received as a token of gratitude. His pri-
LETTfcRS FROM SPAIY. 360
vate conduct is exemplary, and his manners
perfectly free from " the insolence of office,"
which he might assume from the high honours
to which he has been raised. His parents, now
very old, and living in the modest, unassuming
style which becomes their original rank, are vi-
sited by Espinosa every Sunday, the only day
which leaves him a moment of rest, and treated
with the utmost kindness and deference. Al
ways mild and modest in his deportment, it is
on these occasions that he seems quite to forget
his honours, and carry himself hack to the time
when he looked for love and protection from
those two, now, helpless beings. It is there,
and only there, that I once met Espinosa, and
he has ever since possessed my respect. If I
have dwelt too long on the subject of a man
perfectly unknown to you, I trust you will not
attribute it to any of the motives which gene-
rally prompt the praises of men in power.
These, indeed, can never reach the ear of him
they commend, nor has he the means to serve
the eulogist. But the daily sickening sight of
this infamous Court makes the mind cling to the
few objects which still bear the impress of vir-
tue : and having to proceed with the disgusting
picture in which I have engaged, I gladly seized
the opportunity of dispelling the impression
which my subject might leave, either that I
2 B
370 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
take pleasure in vilifying my country, or that
every seed of honour has died away from the
land.
I do not know how it happens that in going
through the description of the different classes
of Pretendientes, I have inverted the order
which they hold in my enumeration, so that I
still find myself with the Reverend Stall-hunters
upon my hands. These, as you may suppose,
are, by the decencies of their profession, com-
pelled to take quite a different course from
those already described ; for Hymen, in this
country, expects nothing from the clergy but
disturbance ; and Love, accustomed, at Court,
to the glitter of lace and embroidery, is,
usually, frightened .at the approach of their
black cloaks, and the flapping brims of their
enormous hats.
During the last reign, and the early part of
the present, the King seldom disposed of his
patronage without the advice of his Privy
Council. The Camaristas de Castillo, received
the petitions of the candidates, accompanied
by documental proofs of their merits and qua-
lifications, and reported thereon to the King
through the Minister of the home department.
Such was the established practice till the Queen
took to herself the patronage of the Crown,
and finally shared it with her favourite. The
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 371
houses of the Privy Counsellors were, accord-
ingly, the great resort of the Clerical Pre-
tendientes. Letters of introduction to some of
the Camaristas were considered the most indis-
pensable provision for the Madrid journey ;
and no West Indian slave was ever so depend-
ent on the nod of his master, as these parasites
were on the humours of the whole family of
the Privy Counsellor, where each had the hap-
piness to be received as a constant visitor.
There he might be seen in the morning relieving
the ennui of the lady of the house, who, from
the late period of life at which judges are pro-
moted to a place in the King's Council, are
themselves of the age which we call canonical;
and there he was sure to be found in the even-
ing making one at the game of Mediatory without
which her ladyship would be more restless and
unhappy than if she had missed her supper.
In this Egyptian bondage the clerical aspirant
would pass three or four years of his life, till
his patron was willing and able to obtain for
him the first place in the list of three candi-
dates presented to the King at each vacancy,
when the happy man quitted the Court for
some cathedral, there quietly to enjoy the
fruits of his patience and perseverance.
The road to preferment is, at present, more
intricate and uncertain. I know a few who
2 B 2
372 LETTEUS FROM SPAIN'.
have been promoted in consequence of having
assisted the Government with their pens. Such
is the case of a clergyman, whose work against
the privileges of the province of Biscay was the
prelude to the repeal, of its ancient charters
under the Prince of the Peace : such is that of
a learned sycophant who has lately given us a
National Catechism, in imitation of one pub-
lished by Napoleon after his accession to the
throne of France, setting forth the divine right
of Kings, and the duty of passive obedience.
But the despotism which crushes us is too pam-
pered and overgrown to require the assistance
of pensioned scribblers. There was a period
when the Prince of the Peace was pleased to
see his name in verse ; but crowds of sonnetteers
showered so profusely their praises upon him,
that he has grown insensible to the voice of the
Muses. He, now and then, rewards some of
his clerical courtiers, with a recommendation
to the minister, which amounts to a positive
order ; but seems rather shy of meddling with
such paltry concerns. It is the Queen who
has, of late, taken possession of the keys of
the church, which she commits into the hands
of her first lady of the bedchamber, allowing
her to levy a toll on such as apply for admit-
tance to the snug corners of the establishment.
I do not report from hearsay. The son of a
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 373
very respectable Seville tradesman, whom 1
have known all my life, having taken orders,
became acquainted with a person thoroughly
conversant with the state of the Court, who put
him in possession of the secret springs which
might promote him at once to a prebendal stall
in the cathedral of his own town. The young
man had no qualifications but a handsome per-
son, and a pretty long purse, of which, how-
ever, his father had still the strings in his own
hands. Four thousand dollars, or two years
income of the prebend, was the market-price
then fixed by the lady of the bedchamber;
and though the good dull man, the father, was
not unwilling to lay out the money so evidently
to the advantage of his son, he had heard some-
thing about simony, a word which, together
with his natural reluctance to part with his
bullion, gave him such qualms of conscience as
threatened to quash the young man's hopes*
The latter possessed but a very scanty stock of
learning, but he was not easily driven to his
wit's end ; and, knowing too well the versatile
nature of casuistry, he proposed a consultation
of three reverend divines, in order to take their
opinion as to the lawfulness of the transaction.
The point being duly debated, it appeared that,
since the essence of simony is the purchase of
spiritual things for money, and the interest of
374 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
the Queen's confidant was perfectly worldly and
temporal, it might conscientiously be bought
for the sum at which she valued it. The young
man, furnished with his Mexican credentials,
was a short time ago properly introduced to
the Queen's female favourite. Having attended
her evening parties for a short time, he has,
without farther trouble, been presented to the
vacant stall at Seville.
The hardships of a Pretendientes life, es-
pecially such as do not centre their views in
the church, have often furnished the theatre
with amusing scenes. The Spanish proverbial
imprecation " May you be dragged about as
a Pretendiente" cannot be felt in its full force
but by such as, like myself, have lived on terms
of intimacy with some of that unfortunate race.
A scanty supply of money from their families is
the only fund on which a young man in pursuit
of a judge's gown must draw for subsistence,
for three or four journeys a year to the Sitios
in order to attend the Court, for the court-
dress which he is obliged to wear almost
daily, and the turns of ill-luck at the card-table
of his lady patroness. What a notion would
an Englishman form of our degree of refine-
ment, if he was to enter one of the lodging-
houses at Aranjuez, for instance, and find a
large paved court surrounded by apartments,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 375
each filled by a different set of lodgers, with
three or four wretched beds, and not so
many chairs for all furniture ; here one of the
party blacking his shoes ; there another darn-
ing his silk stockings ; a third brushing the
court-dress he is to wear at the minister's levee;
while a fourth lies still in bed, resting, as well
as he can, from the last night's ball ! As hack-
ney coaches are not known either at Madrid or
the Sitios, there is something both pitiable and
ludicrous in the appearance of these judges,
intendants, and governors in embryo, sallying
forth in full dress, after their laborious toilet, to
pick their way through the mud, often casting
an anxious look on the lace frills and ruffles
which, artfully attached to the sleeves and
waistcoat, might by some untoward accident,
betray the coarse and discoloured shirt which
they are meant to conceal. Thus they trudge
to the palace, to walk up and down the gal-
leries for hours, till they have succeeded in
making a bow to the minister or any other
great personage on whom their hopes depend.
Having performed this important piece of duty,
they retire to a very scanty dinner, unless their
good stars should put them in the way of an
invitation. In the afternoon they must make
their appearance in the public walk, where the
royal family take a daily airing ; after which
376 LKTTEhS 1'ROM SPAINT.
the day is closed by the attendance at the Ter-
tulia of some great lady, if they be fortunate
enough to have obtained her leave to pay her
this daily tribute of respect.
Such as visit Madrid and the Sitios, indepen-
dent of Court favour, may, for a few weeks,
find amusement in the strangeness of the scene.
The Court of Spain is, otherwise, too dull,
stiff, and formal, to become an interesting resi-
dence. The only good society in the upper
ranks is to be found among the Corps Diplo-
matique. The King, wholly occupied in the
chase, and the Queen in her boudoir, are, of late,
extremely averse to the theatres. Two Spa-
nish play-houses are still allowed to be open
every night ; but the opera has been discon-
tinued for several years, merely because it was
a daily rendezvous for the higher classes. So
jealous is the Queen of fashionable assemblies,
that the grandees do not venture to admit more
than four or five individuals to their tertulias ;
and scarcely a ball is given at Madrid in the
course of the year. This, however, is never
attempted without asking the Queen's permis-
sion. The Marchioness of Santiago, whose
evening parties were numerous, and attended
by the most agreeable and accomplished peo-
ple in the capital, was, a short time since,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 377
obliged, by an intimation communicated through
the police, to deny her house to her friends.
Even bull-fights have been forbidden, and
the idle population of the metropolis of Spain
have been left no other source of amusement
than collecting every evening in the extensive
walk called El Prado, after having lounged away
the morning about the streets, or basked in the
sun, during the winter, at the Puertadel Sol, a
large space, almost surrounded by public build-
ings. The coffee-rooms are, through the cold
season, crowded for about an hour after din-
ner, i. e. from three to four in the afternoon,
and in the early part of the evening ; but the
noise, and the smoke of the cigars, make these
places as close and disagreeable as any tap-
room in London. It would be absurd to expect
any kind of rational conversation in such places.
The most interesting topics must be carefully
avoided, for fear of the combined powers of the
police and the Inquisition, whose spies are
dreaded in all public places. Hence the de-
praved taste which degrades our intercourse
to an eternal giggling and bantering.
Our daily resource for society is the house of
Don Manuel Josef Quintana ; a young lawyer,
whose poetical talents, select reading, and va-
rious information, place him among the first of
378 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
our men of letters, while the kindness of his
heart, and the lofty and honourable principles
of his conduct, make him an invaluable friend
and most agreeable companion. After our even-
ing walk in the Prado we retire to that gentle-
man's study, where four or five others of similar
taste and opinions meet to converse with free-
dom upon whatever subjects are started. The
political character of Quintana and his best
friends is, a rooted hatred of the existing ty-
ranny, and a great dislike to the prevailing in-
fluence of the French Emperor over the Spanish
Court.
It was in this knot of literary friends that an
attempt to establish a Monthly Magazine ori-
ginated a short time before my arrival at Ma-
drid. But such is the listlessness of the coun-
try on every thing relating to literature, such
the trammels in which the Censors confine the
invention of the writers, that the publication of
the Miscelanea was given up in a few months.
Few, besides, as our men of taste are in num-
ber, they have split into two parties, who pur-
sue each other with the weapons of satire and
ridicule.
Moratin, the first of our comic writers a man
whose genius, were he free from the prejudices
of strict adherence to the Unities, and extreme
servility to the Aristotelic rules of the drama,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 379
might have raised our theatre to a decided
superiority over the rest of Europe, and who,
notwithstanding the trammels in which he
exerts his talents, has given us six plays, which
for the elegance, the liveliness, and the refined
graces of the dialogue, as well as the variety,
the truth, the interest, and comic power of the
characters do not yield, in my opinion, to the
best modern pieces of the French, or the
English stage Moratin, I say, may be con-
sidered as the centre of one of the small lite-
rary parties of this capital, while Quintana is
the leader of the other. Difference of opinion
on literary subjects is not, however, the source
of this division. Moratin and his friends have
courted the favour of the Prince of the Peace,
while Quintana has never addressed a line to
the favourite. This tacit reproach, embittered,
very probably, by others rather too explicit,
dropped by the independent party, has kindled
a spirit of enmity among the Court literati,
which, besides producing a total separation,
breaks out in satire and invective on the ap-
pearance of any composition from the pen of
Quintana.
I have been insensibly led where I cannot
avoid entering upon the subject of literature,
though from the nature of these letters, as well
as the limits to which 1 am forced to confine
380 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
them, it was my intention to pass it over in
silence. I shall not, however, give you any
speculations on so extensive a topic, but con-
tent myself with making you acquainted with
the names which form the scanty list of our
living poets
I have already mentioned Moratin and Quin-
tana. I do not know that the former has pub-
lished any thing besides his plays, or that he
has, as yet, given a collection of them to the
public. I conceive that some fears of the In-
quisitorial censures are the cause of this delay.
There has, indeed, been a time when his play,
La Mogigata, or Female Devotee, was scarcely
allowed to be acted, it being believed that, but
for the patronage of the Prince of the Peace, it
would long before have been placed in the list
of forbidden works.
Quintana has published a small collection of
short poems, which most deservedly classes
him among those Spaniards who are just al-
lowed to give a specimen of their powers, and
shew us the waste of talents for which our op-
pressive system of government is answerable
to civilized Europe. He has embellished the
title-page of his book with an emblematical
vignette, where a winged human figure is seen
chained to the threshold of a gloomy Gothic
structure, looking up to the Temple of the
LETTERS FUOM SPAIN. 381
Muses in the attitude of resigned despondency.
I should not have mentioned this trifling cir-
cumstance, were it not a fresh proof of the per-
vading feeling under which every aspiring mind
among us is doomed hopelessly to linger.
It is not, however, the Gothic structure of
our national system alone which confines the
poetic genius of Spain. There is, (if I may
venture some vague conjectures upon a difficult
and not yet fairly tried subject) a want of flexi-
bility in the Spanish language, arising from the
great length of most of its words, the little va-
riety of its terminations, and the bulkiness of
its adverbs, which must for ever, I fear, clog its
verse. The sound of our best poetry is grand
and majestic indeed; but it requires an uncom-
mon skill to subdue and modify that sound so
as to relieve the ear and satisfy the mind. Since
the introduction of the Italian measures by
Boscan and Garcilaso, at the beginning of the
sixteenth century, our best poets have been
servile imitators of Petrarch, and the writers
of that school. Every Spanish poet has, like
the knight of La Mancha, thought it his
bounden duty to be desperately in love, deriv-
ing both his subject and inspiration from a
minute dissection of his lady. The language,
in the mean time, condemned for centu-
ries, from the unexampled slavery of our press,
382 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
to be employed almost exclusively in the daily
and familiar intercourse of life, has had its
richest ornaments tarnished and soiled by the
powerful influence of mental association.
Scarcely one third of its copious dictionary can
be used in dignified prose, while a very scanty
list of words composes the whole stock which
poetry can use without producing either a
sense of disgust or ridicule. In spite of these
fetters, Quintana's poetical compositions con-
vey much deep thought and real feeling ; and
should an unexpected revolution in politics
allow his mind that freedom, without which the
most vigorous shoots of genius soon sicken and
perish, his powerful numbers might well in-
spire his countrymen with that ardent and dis-
interested love of liberty which adds dignity
to the amiableness of his character.
The poet who has obtained most popularity
in our days is Melendez, a lawyer, who, having
for some time been professor of polite literature
at Salamanca, was raised by the Prince of the
Peace to a place in the Council of Castile, and,
not long after, rusticated to his former resi-
dence, where he remains to this day. Melendez
is a man of great natural talents, improved by
more reading and information than is commonly
found among our men of taste. His popularity
as a poet, however, was at first raised on the
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 383
very slight and doubtful foundation of a collec-
tion of Anacreontics, and a few love-poems,
possessing little more merit than an harmo-
nious language, and a certain elegant simplicity.
Melendez, in his youth, was deeply infected
with the mawkish sensibility of the school of
Gessner ; and had he not, by degrees, aimed at
nobler subjects than his Dove, and his Phyllis,
a slender progress in the national taste of Spain
would have been sufficient to consign his
early poems to the toilettes of our town shep-
herdesses. He has, however, in his maturer
age, added a collection of odes to his pastorals,
where he shews himself a great master of
Spanish verse, though still deficient in boldness
and originality. That he ranks little above the
degree of a sweet versifier is more to be attri-
buted to that want of freedom which clips the
wings of thought in every Spaniard than to the
absence of real genius. It is reported that
Melendez is employed in a translation of Vir-
gil : should he live to complete it, I have no
doubt it will do honour to our country.
During the attempt to awaken the Spanish
Muse, which has been made for the last fifty
years, none has struck out a fairer path towards
her emancipation from the affected, stiff, and
cumbrous style in which she was dressed by
our Petrarchists of the sixteenth century than
'384 LKTTKKS FKOM SI'AI.V.
a naval officer named Arriaza. If his admirable
command of language, and liveliness of fancy
were supported by any depth of thought, ac-
quired knowledge, or the least degree of real
feeling, the Spaniards would have an original
poet to boast of.
Few as the names of note are in the poetical
department, I fear I must be completely silent
in regard to the branch of eloquence. Years
pass with us without the publication of any ori-
ginal work. A few translations from the French,
with now and then a sermon, is all the Ma-
drid Gazette can muster to fill up its page of
advertisements. A compilation, entitled El Via-
gero Universal, and the translation of Guthrie's
Grammar of Geography, are looked upon as
efforts both of literary industry and commer-
cial enterprise.
There exist two Royal Academies one for
the improvement of the Spanish Language, the
other for the advancement of National History.
We owe to the former an ill-digested dictiona-
ry, with a very bad grammar; and to the latter
some valuable discourses, and an incomplete
geographical and historical dictionary. Had
the Spanish Academy continued their early la-
bours, and called in the aid of real talent, in-
stead of filling up the list of members with
titled names which have made it ridiculous,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN*. 385
their Dictionary might, without great difficulty,
have been improved into a splendid display of
one of the richest among modern languages,
and the philosophical spirit of the age would
have been applied to the elucidation "of its
elements. That Academy has published a vo-
lume of prize essays and poems, the fruits of
a very feeble competition, in which the poetry
partakes largely of the servility of imitation to
which I have already alluded, and the prose
is generally stiff and affected. Our style, in
fact, is, at present, quite unsettled fluctuat-
ing between the wordy pomposity of our
old writers, without their ease, and the epi-
grammatic conciseness of second-rate French
writers, stripped of their sprightliness and
graces. As long, however, as we are con-
demned to the dead silence ifl which the nation
has been kept for centuries, there is little
chance of fixing any standard of taste for Spa-
nish eloquence. Capmany, probably our best
living philologist and prose writer, insists upon
our borrowing every word and phrase from the
authors of the sixteenth century, the golden
age (as it is called) of our literature, while the
Madrid translators, seem determined to make
the Spanish language a dialect of the French
a sort of Patois, unintelligible to either nation.
The true medium certainly lies between both.
2 c
38G LETTfcRS FROM SPAIN'.
The greatest part of our language has been al-
lowed to become vulgar or obsolete. The lan-
guages which, during the mental progress of
Europe, have been made the vehicles and in-
struments of thought, have left ours far behind
in the powers of abstraction and precision ; and
the rich treasure which has been allowed to
lie buried so long must be re-coined and bur-
nished before it can be recognised for sterling
currency. It is neither by rejecting as foreign
whatever expressions cannot be found in the
writers under the Austrian dynasty, nor by
disfiguring our idiom with Gallicisms, that we
can expect to shape it to our present wants
and fashions. Our aim should be to think for
ourselves in our own language to think, I say,
and express our thoughts with clearness, force,
and precision; not to imitate the mere sound
of the empty periods which generally swell the
pages of the old Spanish writers.
I do not mean, however, to pester you with a
dissertation. Wretched as is the present state
of Spanish literature, it would require a dis-
tinct series of letters to trace the causes of its
decay, to relate the vicissitudes it has suffered,
and to weigh the comparative merits of such
as, under the deadening influence of the most
absolute despotism, are still endeavouring to
LETTERS FROM SPAIN". 387
feed the smouldering fire, which, but for their
efforts, would have long since been extin-
guished.
You will, I trust, excuse this short digres-
sion, in the sure hope that I shall resume the
usual gossip in my next.
2 c2
LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
LETTER XII.
Seville, July 25, 1808.
ACQUAINTED as you must be with the
events which for these last two months have
fixed the eyes of Europe on this country, it
can give you little surprise to find me dating
again from my native town. I have arrived
just in time to witness the unbounded joy
which the defeat of Dupont's army, at Baylen,
has diffused over this town. The air resounds
with acclamations, and the astounding clangour
of the Cathedral-bells announces the arrival of
the victorious General Castanos, who, more sur-
prised at the triumph of his arms than any one
of his countrymen, is just arrived to give
thanks to the body of Saint Ferdinand, and
repose a few days under his laurels.
There is something very melancholy in the
wild enthusiasm, the overweening confidence,
and mad boasting which prevail in this town.
Lulled into a security which threatens instant
death to any who should dare disturb it
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 389
with a word of caution, both the Junta and the
people look on the present war as ended by
this single blow ; and while they spend, in
processions and Te-Deums, the favourable mo-
ments when they might advance on Madrid,
their want of foresight, and utter ignorance of
the means of retaliation possessed by the
enemy, induce them loudly to call for the in-
fraction of thecapitulation which has placed a
French army in their power. The troops, which
the articles agreed upon entitle to a conveyance
to their own country, are, by the effect of
popular clamour, to be confined in hulks in the
Bay of Cadiz. General Dupont is the only
individual who, besides being treated with a
degree of courtesy and respect which, were
it not for the rumours afloat, would bring de-
struction upon the Junta, has been promised a
safe retreat into France. He is now hand-
somely lodged in a Dominican Convent, and at-
tended by a numerous guard of honour. The
morning after his private arrival, the people be-
gan to assemble in crowds, and consequences
fatal to the General were dreaded. Several
members of the Junta, who were early to pay
the general their respects, and chiefly one
Padre Gil*, a wild half-learned monk, whose
* See Letter X. p. 347.
390 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
influence over the Sevillian mob is unbounded,
came forward, desiring the multitude to dis-
perse. Whether truth, and the urgency of the
case, forced out a secret, known only to the
Junta, or whether it was an artifice of the ora-
tor, who, among his eccentricities and mounte-
bank tricks, must be allowed the praise of
boldness in openly condemning the murders of
which the mob has been guilty, he asserted in
his speech, that " Spain was more indebted to
Dupont than the people were aware of." These
words, uttered with a strong and mysterious
emphasis, had the desired effect, and the
French general has now only to dread the
treatment which may await him in France, in
consequence of his defeat and surrender.
Having made you acquainted with the only
circumstances in the last most important event,
which the public accounts are not likely to
mention, I shall have done with news a sub-
ject to which I feel an unconquerable aversion
and begin my account of the limited field of
observation in which my own movements, since
the first approach of the present troubles, have
placed me.
The first visible symptom of impending con-
vulsions was the arrest of Ferdinand, then
Prince of Asturias, by order of his father.
My inseparable companion, Leandro, had been
LETTER* FROM SPAIN. 391
lor some time acquainted with a favourite of
the Prince of the Peace, who, being like my
friend addicted to music, had often asked us to
his amateur parties. On the second of last
November we were surprised by a letter from
that gentleman, requesting my friend to proceed
to the Escurial without delay, on business of
great importance. As we walked to the Puerta
del Sol, to procure a one-horse chaise, called
Caleza, the news of the Prince's arrest was
whispered to us by an acquaintance whom
we met at that winter resort of all the Ma-
drid loungers. We consulted for a few mi-
nutes on the expediency of venturing near the
Lion's den, when his Majesty was so perfectly
out of all temper ; but curiosity and a certain
love of adventure prevailed, and we set off at a
round trot for the Escurial.
The village adjacent to the building bearing
that name is one of the meanest in that part of
Castille. Houses for the accommodation of the
King's suite have been erected at a short dis-
tance from the monastic palace, which the
royal family divide with the numerous commu-
nity of Hieronymites, to whom Philip II. as-
signed one wing of that magnificent structure.
But such as, following the Court on business,
are obliged to take lodgings in the neighbour-
hood, must be contented with the most wretched
392 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
hovels. In one of these we found our friend,
Colonel A., who, though military tutor to the
youngest of the King's sons, might well have
exchanged his rooms and furniture for such as
are found in England at the most miserable
pot-house on the side of the road. My inti-
macy with Leandro was accepted as an excuse
for my intrusion, and we were each accommo-
dated with a truckle-bed, quickly set up at the
two opposite corners of the Colonel's sitting-
room. The object of the summons which had
occasioned our journey, was not long kept a
secret. The clergyman who superintended the
classical studies of the Infante Don Francisco
de Paula was suspected of having assisted the
Prince of Asturias in the secret application to
Bonaparte, which had produced the present
breach in the royal family. Should the proofs
of his innocence, which the tutor had presented
to the King and Queen, fail to re-establish him
in their good opinion, my friend would be pro-
posed as a successor, and enter without delay
upon the duties of the office. The whole busi-
ness was to be decided in the course of the
next day. The present being the Commemo-
ration of the Departed, or All-Souls' Day, we
wished to visit the church during the evening
service. On taking leave of the Colonel, he
cautioned us not to approach that part of the
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 393
building where the Prince was confined, under
a guard, to his own apartments.
Though this was our first visit to the Escu-
rial, the disclosure which had just been made
to my friend, was of too important a nature to
leave us in a fit mood to enjoy the solemn
grandeur of the structure to which we were
directing our steps, and the rude magnificence
of the surrounding scene. To be placed near one
of the members of the royal family, which had
just split into two irreconcileable parties, and
thereby to be reckoned among the enemies of
the heir apparent, was, at once, to plunge head-
long into the most dangerous vortex of Court
intrigue which had yet threatened to overwhelm
the country. To decline the offer, when the can-
didate's name had, in all probability, received
the sanction of the Prince of the Peace, was to
incur suspicion from those who had arbitrary
power in their hands. In this awkward dilem-
ma, our most flattering prospect was the ac-
quittal of the tutor; an event by no means
improbable, considering the well-known dul-
ness of that grave personage, and the hints of
the approaching release of the Prince which we
had gathered from the Colonel. We therefore
proposed to divert our thoughts from the sub-
ject of our fears by contemplating the objects
before us.
394 LETTERS 1-ItOM SPAIN.
The Escurial incloses within the circuit of
its massive and lofty walls, the King's palace,
the monastery, with a magnificent church, and
the Pantheon, or subterranean vault of beautiful
marble, surrounded with splendid sarcophagi,
for the remains of the Spanish Kings and their
families. It stands near the top of a rugged
mountain, in the chain which separates Old
from New Castille, and by the side of an enor-
mous mass of rock, which supplied the architect
with materials. It was the facility of quarrying
the stone where it was to be employed, that
made the gloomy tyrant, Philip II., mark out
this wild spot in preference to others equally
sequestered and less exposed to the fury of the
winds, which blow here with incredible vio-
lence. To have an adequate shelter from the
blast, an ample passage, well aired and lighted,
was contrived by the architect from the palace
to the village.
The sullen aspect of the building, the bleak
and rude mountain top near which it stands
more in rivalry than contrast, the wild and ex-
tensive glen opening below, covered with woods
of rugged, shapeless, stunted ilex, surrounded
by brushwood, the solitude and silence which
the evening twilight besto^yed on the whole
scenery, increased to the fancy by the shy and
retiring manners of a scanty population, trained
LETTE11S FROM SPAIN. 395
under the alternate awe of the Court, and
their own immediate lords, the monks, all this,
heightened by the breathless expectation which
the imprisonment of the heir apparent had
created, and the cautious looks of the few at-
tendants who had followed the royal family on
this occasion, impressed us with a vague feel-
ing of insecurity, which it would be difficult to
express or analyze. No one except ourselves
and the monks, perambulating the ailes with
lighted tapers in their hands, in order to chant
dirges to the memory of the founder and bene-
factors, was to be seen within the precincts of
the temple. The vaults re-echoed our very
steps, when the chorus of deep voices had
yielded to the trembling accents of the old
priest who presided at the ceremony. To
skulk in the dark might have excited suspicion,
and to come within the glare of the monks'
tapers was the sure means of raising their un-
bounded curiosity. We soon therefore glided
into the cloisters next the church. But, not
being well acquainted with the locality of the
immense and intricate labyrinth which the mo-
nastery presents to a stranger, the fear of get-
ting upon forbidden ground, or of being locked
up for the night, induced us to retire to our
lodgings.
With the approbation of our host, we veil-
396 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
tured the next morning to apply to the monk,
who acts, by appointment, as the Cicerone of
the monastery, for a view of the chief curiosi-
ties it contains. He allowed us a walk in the
magnificent and valuable library, which is said
to be one of the richest European treasures of
ancient manuscripts a treasure, indeed, which
amidst those mountains, and under the control
of an illiberal government and a set of ignorant,
lazy monks, may be said to be hid in the earth.
The collection of first-rate pictures at the Es-
curial is immense, and the walls may be said
to be covered with them. One needs only
lounge about the numerous cloisters of the
Monastery to satiate the most craving appetite
for the beauties of art. Our guide, however,
who took no pleasure in going over the same
ground for the ten-thousandth time, hurried us
to the collection of relics, in which he seemed
to take a never failing delight. I will not give
you the list of these spiritual treasures. It fills
up a large board from three to four feet in
length, and of a proportionate breadth, at the
entrance of the choir. Yet 1 cannot omit that
we were shewn the body of one of the inno-
cent children massacred by Herod, and some
coagulated milk of the Virgin Mary. The
monk cast upon us his dark, penetrating eyes, as
he exhibited these two most curious objects;
LETTERS FROM SPAItf. 397
but the air of the Escurial has a peculiar power
to fix and lengthen the muscles of the face.
There is, in the same room which contains the
relics, a curious box of a black shining wood,
probably ebony, the whole lid of which is
covered, on the inside, with the wards of a
most complicated lock. It is said to have con-
tained the secret correspondence of the unfor-
tunate Don Carlos, which his unnatural father,
Philip II., made the pretext for his imprison-
ment, and probably for the violent death which
is supposed to have ended his misery.
On returning from the inspection of the Mo-
nastery, our suspense was relieved by the wel-
come intelligence that the Infante's tutor had
been fully acquitted. The Prince of Asturias,
we were told also, had mentioned to the King
the names of his advisers, and was now released
from confinement. My friend was too con-
scious of the danger which, in the shape of
promotion, had hung over his head for some
hours, not to rejoice in what many would call
his disappointment. He had, probably, dallied
some moments with ambition ; but, if so, he
was fortunate enough to perceive that she had
drawn him to the brink of a precipice.
The Prince of the Peace had, against his
custom, remained at Madrid during the Escu-
rial season, that he might escape the imputa-
398 LETTERS FROM SPAIX.
tion of promoting the unhappy divisions of the
royal family. Something was rumoured at Ma-
drid of a dismemberment of Portugal intended
by Bonaparte, in consequence of which Godoy
was to obtain an independent sovereignty.
This report, originally whispered about by the
friends of the latter, was completely hushed
up in a few days ; while, instead of the buoy->
ancy of spirits which the prospect of a crown
was likely to produce in the favourite, care
and anxiety were observed to lurk in all his
words and motions. He continued, however,
holding his weekly levees ; and as the French
troops were pouring into the Spanish territory,
he endeavoured to conceal his alarm by an air
of directing their movements. When, however,
the French had taken almost violent possession
of some of our fortresses, and were seen ad-
vancing to Madrid with Murat at their head,
there was no farther room for dissimulation.
Though I had no object at Godoy 's levees but
the amusement of seeing a splendid assembly,
open to every male or female who appeared in
a decent dress, that idle curiosity happened to
take me to the last he held at Madrid. He
appeared, as usual, at the farthest end of a
long saloon or gallery, surrounded by a nume-
rous suite of officers, and advanced slowly
between the company, who had made a way
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 399
for him in the middle. Such as wished to
speak to him took care to stand in front, while
those who, like myself, were content to pay
for their admission with a bow, kept purposely
behind. Godoy stood now. before the group,
of which I formed one of the least visible
figures, and bowing, affably, as was his manner,
said in a loud voice, " Gentlemen, the French
advance fast upon us : we must be upon our
guard, for there is abundance of bad faith on
their side." It was now evident that Napo-
leon had cast oif the mask under which he was
hitherto acting ; and such as heard this speech
had no doubt that the arrival of Izquierdo,
Godoy's confidential agent at Paris, had at once
undeceived him, filling him with shame and
vexation at the gross artifice to which he had
been a dupe.
This happened about the beginning of March.
The Court had proceeded to their spring resi-
dence of Aranjuez, and the Prince of the Peace
joined the royal family soon after. A visible
gloom had, by this time, overcast Madrid, aris-
ing chiefly from a rumour, that it was intended
by the King and Queen to follow the example
of the Portuguese family, and make their escape
to Mexico. Few among the better classes
were disposed, from love or loyalty, to oppose
such a determination. But Madrid and the
400 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
royal Sitios would sink into insignificance,
were the Court to be removed to a distance.
The dissolution of the most wretched Govern-
ment always fills its dependents with conster-
nation; and the pampered guards with which
the pride of Spanish royalty had surrounded
the throne, could not endure to be levelled by
the absence of the sovereign with the rest of
the army. The plan, therefore, of a flight out
of Spain, with the ocean at the distance of four
hundred miles, was perfectly absurd and im-
practicable.
The departure of the royal family had,
with all possible secrecy, been fixed for the
19th of March. Measures, however, were
taken by Ferdinand's friends, on the first ap-
pearance of preparations for the journey, to de-
feat the intentions of the King, the Queen, and
the favourite. Numbers of the peasantry were
sent to Aranjuez from villages at a considerable
distance; and the Spanish foot-guards, the Wal-
loons, and the horse-guards engaged to support
the people. Soon after midnight, before the 19th,
a furious attack was made by the populace on the
louse of the Prince of the Peace, who, leaping
>ut of his bed, had scarcely time to escape the
mives which were struck, in frenzied disappoint-
ment, where the warmth of the sheets clearly
shewed how recently he had left them. As the
TETTERS FROM SPAIN*. 401
doors were carefully guarded, no doubt re-
mained of his being still in the house ; and after
the slight search which could be made by arti-
ficial light, it was determined to guard all the
outlets till the approaching day.
The alarm soon spread to the royal palace,
where the Prince's friends, among whom policy
had ranged, at this critical moment, the minis-
ters who owed most to Gocloy, hailed, in the
King's terror, and the Queen's anxiety to save
the life of her lover, the fairest opening for
placing Ferdinand on the throne. Day-light
had enabled the ringleaders to begin the most
active search after the Prince of the Peace ; and
the certainty of his presence on the spot indi-
cated his destruction as inevitable, if not in-
stant. It does honour, indeed, to the affec-
tionate and humane character of Charles, what-
ever we may think of his other qualities, that
he resigned the crown from eagerness to rescue
his faithless friend. The King's abdication was
published to the multitude, with whom the
guards had taken an open and decided part,
and Ferdinand appeared on horseback to fulfil
the engagement he had made to his parents of
protecting the favourite from the assassins.
That unfortunate man, after a confinement of
more than twelve hours, in a recess over the
ittics of his house, where he had lurked, with
2 D
402 LF.TTKUS FROM SPAIN".
scarcely any clothing, and in absolute want of
food and drink, was, if I may credit report,
compelled by thirst to beg the assistance of a
servant who betrayed him to his pursuers.
What saved him from falling on the spot a vic-
tim to the fierceness of his enemies whether
the desire of the leaders to inflict upon him a
public and ignominious death, or some better
feelings of such as, at this fearful moment, sur-
rounded his person I am not able to tell. Nor
would I deprive the new King of whatever
claim to genuine humanity his conduct on this
occasion may have given him. I can only state
the fact that, under his escort, Godoy was car-
ried a prisoner to the Horse-guard Barracks,
not, however, without receiving some severe
wounds on the way, inflicted by such as would
not miss the honour of fleshing their knives on
the man whom but a few hours before they
would not have ventured to look boldly in the
face.
The news of the revolution at Aranjuez had
spread through the capital by the evening of
the 19th ; and it was but too evident that a
storm was gathering against the nearest rela-
tions of Godoy. Night had scarcely come on
when a furious mob invaded the house of Don
Diego, the favourite's younger brother. The
ample space which the magnificent Calle de
LETTERS FROM SPAIX. 403
Alcala leaves at its opening into the Prado, of
which that house forms a corner, afforded room
not only for the operations of the rioters, but
for a multitude of spectators, of whom 1 was
one myself. The house having been broken
into, and found deserted, the whole of the rich
furniture it contained was thrown out at the
windows. Next came down the very doors,
and fixtures of all kinds ; which, made into an
enormous pile with tables, bedsteads, chests of
drawers, and pianos, were soon in a blaze, that,
but for the stillness of the evening might have
spread to the unoffending neighbourhood.
Having enjoyed this splendid and costly bon-
fire, the mob ranged themselves in a kind of
procession, bearing lint-torches, taken from the
numerous chandlers-shops which are found at
Madrid, and directed their steps to the house
of the Prince Franciforte, Godoy's brother-in-
law.
The magistrates, however, had by this time
fixed a board on the doors both of that and
Godoy's own house, giving notice that the
property both of the favourite and his near
relations had been confiscated by the new
King. This was sufficient to turn away the mob
from the remaining objects of their fury ; and
without any farther mischief, they were con-
tented with spending the whole night in the
2 D 2
4 04 L I T T E H S F U M S P A I V .
streets, bearing about lighted torches, and
drinking at the expense of the wine-retailers,
whose shops, like your pot-houses, are the
common resort of the vulgar. The riot did not
cease with the morning. Crowds of men and
women paraded the streets the whole day,
with cries of " Long live King Ferdinand !
Death to Godoy!" The whole garrison of Ma-
drid were allured out of their barracks by
bands of women bearing pitchers of wine in
their hands ; and a procession was seen about
the streets in the afternoon, where the soldiers,
mixed with the people, bore in their firelocks the
palm-branches which, as a protection against
lightning, are commonly hung at the win-
dows. Yet, amidst this fearful disorder, no in-
sult was offered to the many individuals of the
higher classes who ventured among the mob-
Nothing, however, appears to me so creditable to
the populace of Madrid, as their abstaining from
pillage at the house of Diego Godoy every
article, however valuable, was faithfully com-
mitted to the flames.
Murat with his army was, during these events,
at a short distance from Madrid. The plan of
putting the royal family to flight had been
frustrated by the popular commotion at Aran-
juez, and the unexpected accession of Ferdi-
nand. But- the new King, no less than his
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 403
parents, hastening by professions of friendship
to court the support of French power, Murat
proceeded to the Spanish capital, there to pur-
sue the course which might be most conducive
to the views of his sovereign. I saw the en-
trance of the division which was to make the
town their head-quarters. The rest occupied
the environs, some in a camp within half a
mile, and some in the neighbouring villages.
The French entered as friends, and they can-
not say that the inhabitants shewed, upon that
occasion, the least symptoms of hostility. The
prominent feeling which might be observed in
the capital was a most anxious expectation ; but
1 know several instances of French soldiers re-
lieved by the common people ; and had Murat
acknowledged Ferdinand VII. he with his troops
would have been hailed and treated as brothers.
The French troops had been but a few days
at Madrid when Ferdinand left Aranjuez for
his capital, where Murat inhabited the magni-
ficent house of the Prince of the Peace, within
a very short distance of the royal palace. From
thence he encouraged the young King's hopes
of a speedy recognition by the Emperor, ex-
cusing himself, at the same time, for taking no
notice of Ferdinand's approach and presence,
either by himself or his troops. Without any
other display but that of the most enthusiastic
406 LETTERS FROM SPAIN'.
applause from the multitude, Ferdinand, on
horseback, and attended by a few guards, ap-
peared at the gate of Atocha. I had placed
myself near the entrance, and had a full view
of him as, surrounded by the people on foot, he
moved on slowly up the beautiful walk called
El Prado. Never did monarch meet with a
more loyal and affectionate welcome from his
subjects; yet, never did subjects behold a more
vacant and unmeaning countenance even among
the long faces of the Spanish Bourbons. To
features not at all prepossessing, either shyness
or awkwardness had added a stiffness, which,
but for the motion of the body, might in-
duce a suspicion that we were wasting our
greetings on a wax figure.
As if for the sake of contrast, Murat, whose
handsome figure on horseback was shewn to
the greatest advantage by a dress almost the-
atrical, appeared every Sunday morning in the
Prado, surrounded by generals and aide-de-
camps no less splendidly accoutred, there to
review the picked troops of his army. Numbers
of people were drawn at first by the striking
magnificence of this martial spectacle ; but
jealousy and distrust were fast succeeding to
the suspense and doubt which the artful eva-
sions of the French Prince had been able to
keep up for a time.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 407
The first burst of indignation against the
French was caused by their interference in fa-
vour of the Prince of the Peace. The people
of Madrid were so eager for the public execu-
tion of Godoy, that when it was known that
the man on whose hanging carcase they had
daily expected to feast their eyes, was proceed-
ing out of the kingdom under a French escort,
loud and fierce murmurs from all quarters of
the town announced the bitter resentment of
disappointed revenge. It was, nevertheless,
still in the power of Napoleon to have pre-
served the whole nation at his devotion, by
making the long-expected recognition of Fer-
dinand. Even when, through the unworthy
artifices which are already known to the world,
Ferdinand had been decoyed to Bayonrie, and
the greatest anxiety prevailed at Madrid as to
the result of the journey, I witnessed the joy
of an immense multitude collected at the Puerta
del Sol late in the evening, when, probably
with a view to disperse them, the report was
spread that the courier we had seen arrive
brought the intelligence of Napoleon's acknow-
ledgment of the young King, and his determi-
nation to adopt him by marriage into his own
family. The truth, however, could not be con-
cealed any longer ; and the plan of usurpation,
which was disclosed the next morning, pro-
408 L KITE US FROM SPAIX.
duced the clearest indications of an inevitable
catastrophe.
The wildest schemes for the destruction of
the French division at Madrid were canvassed
almost in public, and with very little reserve.
Nothing indeed so completely betrays our pre-
sent ignorance as to the power and efficiency of
regular troops, as the projects which were cir-
culated in the capital for an attack on the
French corps, which still paraded every Sunday
morning in the Prado. Short pikes, headed
with a sharp-cutting" crescent, were expected
to be distributed to the spectators, who used
to range themselves behind the cavalry. At
one signal the horses were to be houghed with
these instruments, and the infantry attacked
with poniards. To remonstrate against such
absurd and visionary plans, or to caution their
advocates against an unreserved display of hos-
tile views, which, of itself, would be enough
to defeat the ablest conspiracy, was not only
useless but dangerous. The public ferment
grew rapidly, and Murat, who was fully ap-
prised of its progress, began to shew his inten-
tions of anticipating resistance.
One Sunday afternoon, towards the end of
April, as I was walking with a friend in the
extensive gardens of the old royal palace El
Retiro, (which, as they adjoin the Prado, are
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 409
the usual resort of such as wish to avoid a
crowded walk,) the sound of drums beating
to arms from several quarters of the town, drew
us, not without trepidation, to the inner gate
of the large square, through which lay our way
out of the palace. The confused voices of men,
and the more distinct cries of the women, toge-
ther with the view of two French regiments d rawn
up in the square and in the act of loading their
muskets, would have placed us in the awkward
dilemma whether to venture out, or to stay, we
knew not how long, in the solitary Gardens,
had not a French officer, whom I addressed,
assured us that we might pass in front of the
troops without molestation. The Prado, which
we had left thronged with people, was now
perfectly empty, except where some horse-
patroles of the French were scudding away in
different directions. As we proceeded towards
the centre of the town, we were told that the
alarm had been simultaneous and general.
Parties of French cavalry had been scouring
the streets ; and, in the wantonness of military
insolence, some soldiers had made a cut now
and then at such as did not fly fast enough be-
fore them. The street-doors were, contrary to
the usual practice, all shut as in the dead of
night, and but a few groups of men were seen
talking about the recent and now subsiding
410 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
alarm. Among these we saw one shewing his
hat cut through by the sabre of a French dra-
goon. No one could either learn or guess the
cause of this affray ; but I am fully convinced
that it was intended just to strike fear into the
people, and to discourage large meetings at the
public walks. It was a prelude to the second of
May that day which has heaped the curses of
every Spaniard on the head which could plan
its horrors, and the heart that could carry them
through to the last without shrinking.
The insurrection of the second of May did not
arise from any concerted plan of the Spaniards;
it was, on the contrary, brought about by
Murat, who, wishing to intimidate the country,
artfully contrived the means of producing an
explosion in the capital. The old King's bro-
ther and one of his sons, who had been left at
Madrid, were, on that day, to start for Bayonne.
The sight of the last members of the royal fa-
mily leaving the country, under the present
circumstances, could not but produce a strong
sensation on a people whose feelings had for
some months been racked to distraction. The
Council of Regency strongly recommended the
Infante's departure in the night; but Murat
insisted on their setting off at nine in the morn-
ing. Long before that hour an extensive square,
of which the new Palace forms the front, was
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 411
crowded with people of the lower classes.
On the Princes appearing in their travelling
dresses, both men and women surrounded the
carriages, and, cutting off the traces, shewed a
determination to prevent their departure. One
of Murat's aide-de-camps, presenting himself
at this moment, was instantly assaulted by the
mob, and he would have fallen a victim to
their fury but for the strong French guard,
stationed near that general's house. This guard
was instantly drawn up, and ordered to fire on
the people.
My house stood not far from the Palace,
in a street leading to one of the central points
of communication with the best part of the
town. A rush of people crying " To arms,"
conveyed to us the first notice of the tumult.
I heard that the French troops were firing on
the people ; but the outrage appeared to me
both so impolitic and enormous, that I could
not rest until I went out to ascertain the truth.
I had just arrived at an opening named Pla-
zu61a de Santo Domingo, the meeting point of
four large streets, one of which leads to the
Palace, when, hearing the sound of a French
drum in that direction, I stopped with a con-
siderable number of decent and quiet people
whom curiosity kept rivetted to the spot.
Though a strong piquet of infantry was fast
412 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
advancing upon us, we could not imagine that
we stood in any kind of danger. Under this
mistaken notion we awaited their approach ;
but, seeing the soldiers halt and prepare their
arms, we began instantly to disperse. A dis-
charge of musketry followed in a few mo-
ments, and a man fell at the entrance of the
street, through which I was, with a great
throng, retreating from the fire. The fear of an
indiscriminate massacre arose so naturally from
this unprovoked assault, that every one tried
to look for safety in the narrow cross streets
on both sides of the way. I hastened on towards
my house, and having shut the front door,
could think of no better expedient, in the con-
fused state of my mind, than to make ball-
cartridges for a fowling-piece which I kept.
The firing of musketry continued, and was to
be heard in different directions. After the
lapse of a few minutes, the report of large
pieces of ordnance, at a short distance, greatly
increased our alarm. They were fired from a
park of artillery, which, in great neglect, and
with no definite object, was kept by the Spa-
nish Government, in that part of the town.
Murat, who had, this day, all his troops under
arms, on fixing the points of which they were
to gain possession, had not forgotten the park
of artillery. A strong column approached it
LETTKKS FROM SPAIN. 413
through a street facing the gate, at which Co-
lonel Daoiz, a native of my town, and my own
acquaintance, who happened to be the senior
officer on duty, had placed two large pieces
loaded with grape shot. Determined to perish
rather than yield to the invaders, and supported
in his determination by a few artillery-men, and
some infantry under the command of Belarde,
another patriot officer, he made considerable
havock among the French, till, overpowered
by numbers, both these gallant defenders of
their country fell, the latter dead, the former
desperately wounded. The silence of the guns
made us suspect that the artillery had fallen
into the hands of the assailants ; and the re-
port of some stragglers confirmed that con-
jecture.
A well-dressed man had, in the mean time,
gone down the street calling loudly on the male
inhabitants to repair to an old depot of arms.
But he made no impression on that part of the
town. The attempt to arm the multitude at
this moment was, in truth, little short of mad-
ness. In a short time after the beginning of
the tumult, two or three columns of infantry
entered by different gates, making themselves
masters of the town. The route of the main
corps lay through the Calle Mayor, where the
houses, consisting of four or five stories, afforded
414 LKTTEKS FROM SPA IX.
the inhabitants the means of wreaking their
vengeance on the French without much danger
from their arms. Such as had guns fired from
the windows ; while tiles, bricks, and heavy
articles of furniture, were thrown by others
upon the heads of the soldiers. But, now, the
French had occupied every central position ;
their artillery had struck panic into the enraged
multitude; some of the houses, from which
they had been fired at, had been entered by
the soldiers ; and the cavalry were making
prisoners among such as had not early taken
to flight. As the people had put to death
every French soldier, who was found unarmed
about the streets, the retaliation would have
been fearful, had not some of the chief Spanish
magistrates obtained a decree of amnesty,
which they read in the most disturbed parts of
the town.
But Murat thought he had not accomplished
his object, unless an example was made on a
certain number of the lower classes of citizens.
As the amnesty excluded any that should be
found bearing arms, the French patroles of
cavalry, which were scouring the streets,
searched every man they met, and making the
clasp knives which pur artisans and labourers are
accustomed to carry in their pockets, a pretext
for their cruel and wicked purpose, they led
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN. 415
about one hundred men to be tried by a Court
Martial ; in other words, to be butchered in
cold blood. This horrid deed, the blackest,
perhaps, which has stained the French name
during their whole career of conquest, was
performed at the fall of day. A mock tribunal of
French officers, having ascertained that no per-
son of note was among the destined victims,
ordered them to be led out of the Retiro, the
place of their short confinement, into the
Prado, where they were despatched by the
soldiers.
Ignorant of the real state of the town, and
hearing that the tumult had ceased, I ventured
out in the afternoon towards the Puerta del
Sol, where I expected to learn some particulars
of the day. The cross streets which led to that
place were unusually empty ; but as I came to
the entrance of one of the avenues which open
into that great rendezvous of Madrid, the bus-
tle increased, and I could see an advanced
guard of French soldiers formed two-deep
across the street, and leaving about one-third
of its breadth open to such as wished to pass
up and down. At some distance behind them,
in the irregular square which bears the name
of the Suns Gate, I distinguished two pieces of
cannon, and a very strong division of troops.
Less than this hostile display would have been
416 LETTERS FROM SPAIN"-.
sufficient to check my curiosity, if, still pos-
sessed with the idea that it was not the inte-
rest of the French to treat us like enemies, I
had not, like many others who were on the
same spot, thought that the peaceful inhabitants
would be allowed to proceed unmolested about
the streets of their town. Under this impression
I went on without hesitation, till 1 was within
fifty yards of the advanced guard. Here a
sudden cry of CIILV armes, raised in the square,
was repeated by the soldiers before me, the
officer giving the command to make ready.
The people fled up the street in the utmost
consternation ; but my fear having allowed me,
instantly, to calculate both distances and dan-
ger, I made a desperate push towards the
opening left by the soldiers, where a narrow
lane, winding round the Church of San Luis,
put me in a few seconds out of the range of the
French muskets. No firing however being
heard, I concluded that the object of the alarm
was to clear the streets at the approach of night.
The increasing horror of the inhabitants, as
they collected the melancholy details of the
morning, would have accomplished that end,
without any farther effort on the part of the
oppressors. The bodies of some of their vic-
tims seen in several places ;, the wounded that
were met about the streets; the visible anguish
LETTERS FROM SPAIN'. 417
of such as missed their relations; and the
spreading report that many were awaiting their
fate at the Retire, so strongly and painfully
raised the apprehensions of the people, that the
streets were absolutely deserted long before
the approach of night. Every street-door was
locked, and a mournful silence prevailed wher-
ever I directed my steps. Full of the most
gloomy ideas, I was approaching my lodgings
by a place called Postigo de San Martin, when
I saw four Spanish soldiers bearing a man upon
a ladder, the ends of which they supported on
their shoulders. As they passed near me, the
ladder being inclined forward, from the steepness
of the street, I recognized the features of my
townsman and acquaintance, Daoiz, livid with
approaching death. He had lain wounded since
ten in the morning, in the place where he
fell. He was not quite insensible when I met
him. The slight motion of his body, and the $
groan he uttered as the inequality of the ground, I
probably, increased his pain, will never be -
effaced from my memory.
A night passed under such impressions,
baffles my feeble powers of description. A
scene of cruelty and treachery exceeding all
limits of probability had left our apprehensions
to range at large, with scarcely any check from
the calculations of judgment. The dead silence
2E
418 LETTERS FltOM SPAIN.
of the streets since the first approach of night,
only broken by the trampling of horses which
now and then were heard passing along in large
parties, had something exceedingly dismal in a
populous town, where we were accustomed to
an incessant and enlivening bustle. The Ma-
drid cries, the loudest and most varied in Spain,
were missed early next morning ; and it was
ten o'clock before a single street-door had been
open. Nothing but absolute necessity could
induce the people to venture out.
On the third day after the massacre, a note
from an intimate friend obliged me to cross the
greatest part of the town ; but though my way
lay through the principal streets of Madrid, the
number of Spaniards I met did not literally
amount to six. In every street end square of
any note I found a strong guard of French in-
fantry, lying beside their arms on the pave-
ment, except the sentinel who paced up and
down at a short distance. A feeling of morti-
fied pride mixed itself with the sense of inse-
curity which I experienced on my approaching
these parties of foreign soldiers, whose presence
had made a desert of our capital. Gliding by
the opposite side of the street, I passed them
without lifting my eyes from the ground. Once
I looked straight in the face of an inferior offi-
cera serjeant I believe, wearing the cross of
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN. 419
the Legion Jhonneur who, taking it as an in-
sult, loaded me with curses, accompanied with
threats and the most abusive language. The
Puerta del Sol, that favourite lounge of the
Madrid people, was now the bivouac of a French
division of infantry and cavalry, with two
twelve-pounders facing every leading street.
Not a shop was open, and not a voice heard
but such as grated the ear with a foreign
accent.
On my return home, a feeling of deep melan-
choly had seized upon me, to which the troubles
of my past life were lighter than a feather in
the scale of happiness and misery. I confined
myself to the house for several days, a prey to
the most harassing anxiety. What course to
take in the present crisis, was a question for
which I was not prepared, and in which no
fact, no conjecture could lead me. My friend,
the friend for whose sake alone I had changed
my residence, had a mortal aversion to Seville
that town where he could not avoid acting in
a detested capacity.* Some wild visions of
freedom from his religious fetters had been
playing across his troubled mind, while the
French approached Madrid; and though he
now looked on their conduct with the most
* That of a Catholic Clergyman.
2 2
420 LETTERS FROM SPAIX.
decided abhorrence, still he could hardly per-
suade himself to escape from the French bay-
onets, which he seemed to dread less than
Spanish bigotry.
But my mind has dwelt too long on a pain-
ful subject, and I hope you will excuse me if I
put off the conclusion till another Letter.
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN. 421
LETTER XIII.
Seville, July 30, 1808.
WHETHER Murat began to suspect that his
cruel method of intimidating the capital would
rouse the provinces into open resistance, or
whether (with the unsteadiness of purpose
which often attends a narrow mind acting more
from impulse than judgment) he wished to ef-
face the impressions his insolent cruelty had
left upon the Spaniards, he soon turned his at-
tention to the restoration of confidence. The
folly, however, of such an endeavour, while
(independent of the alarm and indignation
which spread like wild fire over the country)
every gate of Madrid was kept by a strong
guard of French infantry, must have been evi-
dent to any one but the thoughtless man who
directed it. The people, it is true, ventured
again freely out of the houses ; but the public
422 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
walks were deserted, and the theatres left al-
most entirely to the invaders.
Yet it was visible that the French had a
party, which, though feeble in numbers, con-
tained some of the ablest and not a few of the
most respectable men at Madrid. Nay, I firmly
believe, that had not the Spaniards of the mid-
dle and higher classes been from time imme-
morial brought up in the strictest habits of re-
serve on public measures, and without a suf-
ficient boldness to form and express their
opinions, the new French Dynasty would
have obtained a considerable majority among
our gentry. In the first place, two-thirds of
the above description hold situations under
Government, which they would have hoped to
preserve by adherence to the new rulers.
Next, we should consider the impression which
the last twenty years had left on the thinking
part of the community. Under the most pro-
fligate and despicable Court in Europe, a sense
of political degradation had been produced
among such of the Spaniards as were not
blinded by a nationality of mere instinct. The
true source of the enthusiasm which appeared
on the accession of Ferdinand was joy at the
removal of his father; for hopes of a better
government, under a young Prince of the com-
mon stamp, seated on an arbitrary throne,
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 423
must have been wild and visionary indeed. As
for the state of dependence on France, which
would follow the acknowledgment of Joseph
Bonaparte, it could not be more abject or help-
less than under Ferdinand, had his wishes of a
family alliance been granted by Napoleon. It
cannot be denied that indignation at the treat-
ment we have experienced strongly urged the
nation to revenge ; but passion is a blind guide,
which thinking men will seldom trust on poli-
tical measures. To declare war against an
army of veterans already in the heart of Spain,
might be, indeed, an act of sublime patriotism ;
but was it not, too, more likely to bring ruin
and permanent slavery on the country, than
the admission of a new King, who, though a
foreigner, had not been educated a despot, and
who, for want of any constitutional claims,
would be anxious to deduce his rights from the
acknowledgment of the nation ?
Answers innumerable might be given to
these arguments and that I was far from al-
lowing them great weight on my mind I can
clearly prove, by my presence at this moment
in the capital of Andalusia. But I cannot endure
that blind, headlong, unhesitating patriotism
which I find uniformly displayed in this town
and province a loud popular cry which every
individual is afraid not to swell with his
424 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
whole might, and which, though it may ex-
press the feeling of a great majority, does not
deserve the name of public opinion, any more
than the unanimous acclamations at an Auto da
F'e,. Dissent is the great characteristic of
liberty. I am, indeed, as willing as any man to
give my feeble aid to the Spanish cause against
France ; but I feel indignant at the compulsion
which deprives my views of all individuality
which, from the national habits of implicit
submission to whatever happens to be esta-
blished, forces every man into the crowd, so
that nothing can save him but running for his
life with the foremost.
I repeat, that I need not an apology for my
political conduct on this momentous occasion.
Feelings which will, indeed, bear examination,
but on which I ground no merit, have brought
me to the more honourable side of the question.
Yet I must plead for candour and humanity in
favour of such as, from the influence of the
views I have touched upon, and, in some cases,
with a more upright intention than many an
outrageous patriot, have opposed the beginning
of hostilities. The name of traitor, with which
they have been indiscriminately branded, must
cut them off irrevocably from our party ; and
even the fear of being too late to avoid suspi-
cion among us, may oblige those whom chance
LETTERS FUOM SPA IX. 425
or the watchfulness of the Madrid Government
has hitherto prevented from joining us, to make
at last common interest with the French.
To escape from Madrid, after the news of
the insurrection of Andalusia had reached that
capital, was, in fact, an undertaking of consi-
derable difficulty, and, as I have found by
experience, attended with no small danger.
Dupont's army had occupied the usual road
through La Mancha, and no carnages were
allowed by the French to set off for the refrac-
tory provinces. My mind, however, had been
fixed to join my countrymen, as soon as they
took up arms against the French ; and though
my friend shuddered at the idea of casting his
lot with the defenders of the Pope and the
Inquisition, he soon forgot all personal interest
in a question between a foreign army and his
own natural friends.
There were no means of reaching Andalusia
but through the province of Estremadura, and
no other conveyance, at that time, than two
Aragonese waggons, which having stopped at
a small inn, or venta, three miles from Madrid,
were not under the immediate control of the
French police. The attention of the new Go-
vernment was, besides, too much divided, by
the increasing difficulties of their situation, to
extend itself beyond the gates of the town.
426 LETTERS FliOM SPAIN.
We had only to make our way through the
French guard, and walk to the venta on the
day appointed by the waggoners. But if a
single person met with no impediment at the
gates, luggage of any description was sure to
be intercepted ; and we had to take our choice
between staying, or travelling a fortnight with-
out more than a shirt in our pocket.
Thus lightly accoutred, however, we left
Madrid at three in the afternoon of the 1 5th of
June, and walked under a burning sun to meet
our waggons. Summer is, of all seasons, in
Spain, the most inconvenient for travellers ; and
nothing but necessity will induce the natives
to cross the burning plains, in which the coun-
try abounds. This, however, is mostly done
so as to avoid the fierceness of the sun, the
coaches starting between three and four in the
morning, stopping from nine till four in the
afternoon, and completing the day's journey
between nine and ten in the evening. We,
alas ! could not expect that indulgence. Each
of us confined with our respective waggoner,
within the small space which the load had left
near the awning, had to endure the intolerable
closeness of the waggon, under the dead still-
ness of a burning atmosphere, so impregnated
with floating dust, as often to produce a feeling
of suffocation. Our stages required not only
LLTTEliS FROM SPAIN. 427
early rising, but travelling till noon. After a
disgusting dinner at the most miserable inns of
the unfrequented road we were following, our
task began again, till night, when we could
rarely expect the enjoyment even of such a bed
as the Spanish ventas afford. Our stock of linen
allowed us but one change, and we could not
stop to have it washed. The consequences
might be easily foreseen. The heat, and the
company of our waggoners, who often passed
the night by our side, soon completed our
wretchedness, by giving us a sample of one,
perhaps the worst, of the Egyptian plagues,
which, as we had not yet got through one-half
of our journey, held out a sad prospect of in-
crease till our arrival at Seville.
There was something so cheering in the con-
sciousness of the sacrifice both of ease and
private views we were making, in the idea of
relieving our friends from the anxiety in which
the fear of our joining the French party must
have kept them in the hopes of being re-
ceived with open arms by those with whom we
had made common interest at a time when
every chance seemed to be against them
that our state of utter discomfort could not at
first make any impression on our spirits. The
slip of New Castille, which lies between
Madrid and the frontiers of Estremadura, pre-
428 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
sented nothing that could in the least disturb
these agreeable impressions ; and the reception
we met with from the inhabitants was in every
respect as friendly as we had expected. An
instance of simple unaffected kindness shewn
to us by a poor woman near Mostoles would
hardly deserve being mentioned, but for the
painful contrast by which the rest of our jour-
ney has endeared it to my memory. Oppressed
by the heat and closeness of our situation, and
preferring a direct exposure to the rays of the
sun in the open air, we had left our heavy ve-
hicles at some distance, when the desire to
enjoy a more refreshing draught than could be
obtained from the heated jars which hung by
the side of our waggons, induced us to ap-
proach a cottage which stood at a short dis-
tance from the road. A poor woman sat alone
near the door, and though there was nothing
in our dress that could give us even the ap-
pearance of gentlemen, she answered our re-
quest for a glass of water, by eagerly pressing
us to sit and rest ourselves. " Water," she
said, " in the state I see you in, is sure, Gen-
tlemen, to do you harm. I fortunately have
some milk in the cottage, and must beg you to
accept it. You, dear Sirs," she added, " are, I
know, making your escape from the French at
Madrid. God bless you, and prosper your jour-
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 429
ney !" Her sympathy was so truly affecting, that
it actually brought tears into our eyes. To de-
cline the offer of the milk, as well as to speak
of payment, would have been an affront to the
kind-hearted female ; and giving her back the
blessing she had so cordially bestowed upon us,
was all we could do to shew our gratitude.
Cheered up by this humble yet hearty wel-
come among our countrymen, we proceeded
for two or three days ; our feelings of security
increasing all the while with the distance from
Madrid. It was, however, just in that propor-
tion that we were approaching danger. We
had, about nine in the morning, reached the
Calzada de Oropesa, on the borders of Estr
madura, when we observed, with painful sur-
prise, a crowd of country people, who, collect-
ing hastily round us, began to inquire who we
were, accompanying their questions with the
fierce and rude tone which forebodes mischief
among the testy inhabitants of our southern
provinces. The Alcalde soon presented him-
self, and, having heard the account we gave
of ourselves and our journey, wisely declared
to the people that, our language being genuine
Spanish, we might be allowed to proceed.
He added, however, a word of advice, de-
siring us to be prepared to meet with people
more inquisitive and suspicious than those of
430 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Oropesa, who would make us pay dear for any
flaw they might discover in our narrative. As
if to try our veracity by means of intimidation,
he acquainted us with the insurrections which
had taken place in every town and village, and
the victims which had scarcely failed in any
instance to fall under the knives of the pea-
santry.
The truth and accuracy of this warning be-
came more and more evident as we advanced
through Estremadura. The no'tice we attracted
at the approach of every village, the threats of
the labourers whom we met near the road, and
the accounts we heard at every inn, fully con-
vinced us that we could not reach our journey's
end without considerable danger. The unfor-
tunate propensity to shed blood, which spoils
many a noble quality in the southern Spaniards,
had been indulged in most towns of any note,
under the cloak of patriotism. Frenchmen, of
course, though long established in Spain, were
pointed objects of the popular fury ; but most
of the murders which we heard of were com-
mitted on Spaniards who, probably, owed their
fate to private pique and revenge, and not to
political opinions. We found the Alcaldes and
Corregidores, to whom we applied for protec-
tion, perfectly intimidated, and fearing the
consequences of any attempt to check the
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 431
blind fury of the people under them. But no
description of mine can give so clear a view of
the state of the country, as the simple narra-
tive of the popular rising at Almaraz, the little
town which gives its name to a well-known
bridge on the Tagus, as it was delivered to us
by the Alcalde, a rich farmer of that place.
The people of his district, upon hearing the
accounts from Madrid, and the insurrections of
the chief towns of their province, flocked, on
a certain day, before the Alcalde's house, armed
with whatever weapons they had been able to
collect, including sickles, pickaxes, and similar
implements -of husbandry. Most happily for
the worthy magistrate the insurgents had no
complaint against him ; and on the approach
of the rustic mob he confidently came out to
meet them. Having with no small difficulty
obtained a hearing, the Alcalde desired to be
informed of their designs and wishes. The an-
swer appears to me unparalleled in the history
of mobs. " We wish, Sir, to kill somebody,"
said the spokesman of the insurgents. " Some
one has been killed at Truxillo ; one or two
others at Badajoz, another at Merida, and
we will not be behind our neighbours. Sir,
we will kill a traitor." As this commodity
could not be procured in the village, it was
fortunate for us that we did not make our ap-
432 LETTERS FROM SPA IX.
pearance at a time when the good people of
Almaraz mi^ht have made us a substitute on
O
whom to display their loyalty. The fact, how-
ever, of their having no animosities to indulge
under the mask of patriotism, is a creditable
circumstance in their character. A meeting
which we had, soon after leaving the village,
with an armed party of these patriots, confirmed
our opinion that they were among the least
savage of their province.
The bridge of Almaraz stands at the distance
of between three and four miles from the vil-
lage. It was built in the time of Charles the
Fifth, by the town of Plasencia ; but it would
not have disgraced an ancient Roman architect.
The Tagus, carrying, even at this season, a pro-
digious quantity of water, passes under the
greater of the two arches, which support the
bridge. Though the height and span of these
arches give to the whole an air of boldness
which borders upon grandeur, the want of
symmetry in their size and shape, and the nar-
row, though very deep, channel to which the
rocky banks confine the river, abate considera-
bly the effect it might have been made to pro-
duce. Yet there is something impressive in a
bold work of art standing single in a wild tract
of country, where neither great towns, nor a
numerous and well distributed population,
LETTERS FROM SPA IN. 433
with all the attending marks of industry, luxury,
and refinement, have prepared the imagination
to expect it. As soon, therefore, as the bridge
was seen at a distance, leaving the waggons,
and allowing them to proceed before us, we
lingered to enjoy the view.
Just as we stood admiring the solidity and
magnitude of the piers, casting by chance our
eyes towards the wooded mountain which rises
on the opposite side, and confines the road to
a narrow space on the precipitous bank of the
river, we saw a band of from fifteen to twenty
men, armed with guns, leaving the wood where
they had been concealed, and coming down
towards the waggons. The character of the
place, combined with the dresses, arms, and
movements of the men, convinced us at once
that we had fallen into the hands of banditti.
But as they could take very little from us, we
thought we should meet with milder treat-
ment if we approached them without any signs
of fear. On our coming up to the place we
observed some of the party searching the
waggons ; but seeing the rest talking quietly
with the carriers, our suspicions of robbery
were at an end. The whole band, we found,
consisted of peasants, who, upon an absurd
report that the French intended* to send arms
and ammunition to the frontiers of Portugal,
2F
434 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
had been stationed on that spot to examine
every cart and waggon, and stop all suspicious
persons. Had these people been less good-
natured and civil, we could not have escaped
being sent, in that dangerous character, to
some of the Juntas which had been established
in Spain. But being told by my friend that
he was a clergyman, and hearing us curse the
French in a true patriotic style, they wished us
a happy journey, and allowed us to proceed
unmolested.
We expected to arrive at Meiida on a
Saturday evening, and to have left it early
on Sunday after the first mass, which, for
the benefit of travellers and labourers, is per-
formed before dawn. But the axletree of one
of our waggons breaking down, we were
(obliged to sleep that night at a Venta, and to
spend the next day in the above-mentioned
city. The remarkable ruins which still shew
the ancient splendour of the Roman Emerita
Augusta would, in more tranquil times, have
afforded us a pleasant walk round the town, and
more than repaid us for the delay. Fatigue,
however, induced us to confine ourselves to
the inn, where we expected, by the repose of
one day, to recruit our strength for the rest of
the journey. Having taken a luncheon, we
had retired to our beds for a long siesta, when
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 435
the noise of a mob rushing down the street
and gathering in front of the inn drew us,
nearly undressed, to the window. As far as
the eye could reach, nothing was to be seen but
a compact crowd of peasants, most of them
with clasp knives in their hands. At the sight
of us, such as were near began to brandish
their weapons, threatening they would make
mince-meat of every Frenchman in the inn.
Unable to comprehend the cause of this tu-
mult, and fearing the consequences of the
blind fury which prevailed in the country, we
hurried on our clothes and ran down to the
front hall of the inn. There we found twelve
dragoons standing in two lines on the inside of
the gate, holding their carbines ready to fire,
as the officer who commanded them warned
the people that were blockading the gate they
should do upon the first who ventured into the
house. The innkeeper walked up and down
the empty hall, bewailing the fate of his house,
which he assured us would soon be set on fire
by the mob. We now gathered from him the
cause of this turmoil and confusion. A young
Frenchman had been taken on the road to
Portugal, with letters to Junot, and on this
ground was forwarded under an escort of sol-
diers to the Captain-general of the Province
at Bad joz. The crowd in the street consisted
2 F 2
436 LKTTF.US FKOM SPAIN.
of about two thousand peasants, who, having
volunteered their services, were under training
at the expense of the city. The poor prisoner
had been imprudently brought into the town
when the recruits were in the principal square
indulging in the idleness of a Sunday. On
hearing that he was a Frenchman, they drew
their knives and would have cut him to pieces
but for the haste which the soldiers made with
him towards the inn.
The crowd, by this time, was so fierce and
vociferous, that we could not doubt they would
break in without delay. My companion, being
fully aware of our dangerous position, urged
me to follow him to the gate, in order to ob-
tain a hearing, while the people still hesitated
to make their,way between the two lines of sol-
diers. We approached the impenetrable mass ;
but, before coming within reach of the knives,
my friend called loudly to the foremost to abs-
tain from doing us any injury ; for though
without any marks of his profession about him,
he was a priest, who, with a brother, (pointing
to me,) had made his escape from Madrid to
join his countrymen. I verily believe, that as
fear is said sometimes to lend wings, it did on
this occasion prompt my dear friend with
words ; for a more fluent and animated speech
than his has seldom been delivered in Spanish.
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 437
The effects of this unusual eloquence were soon
visible among those of the rioters that stood
nearest; and one of the ringleaders assured the
orator, that no harm was meant against us.
On our requesting to leave the house, we were
allowed to proceed into the great square.
My friend there inquired the name of the
Bishop's substitute, or Vicar General, and, with
an agreeable surprise, we learnt that it was
Senor Valenzuela. We instantly recognized
one of our fellow students at the University of
Seville. He had been elected a Member of
the Revolutionary Junta of Merida, and though
not more confident of his influence over the
populace than the rest of his colleagues, whom
the present mob had reduced to a state of vi-
sible consternation, he instantly offered us his
house as an asylum for the night, and engaged
to obtain for us a passport for the remainder of
the journey. In the mean time, the military
commander of the place, attended by some of
the magistrates, had promised the crowd to
throw the young Frenchman into a dungeon ; as
he had acted a few nights before by his own ad-
jutant, against whom these very same recruits
had risen on the parade, with so murderous a
spirit, that though protected by a-few regulars,
they wounded him severely, and would have
taken his life but for the interference of the
438 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
Vicar, who, bearing the consecrated host in his
hands, placed the officer under the protection of
that powerful charm. The Frenchman was, ac-
cordingly, conducted to prison : but neither the
soldiers nor the magistrates, who surrounded
him, could fully protect him from the savage
fierceness of the peasants, who crowding upon
him, as half dead with terror he was slowly
dragged to the town gaol, stuck the points of
their knives into several parts of his body.
Whether he finally was sacrificed to the popular
fu-ry, or, by some happy chance, escaped with
life, I have not been able to learn.
Though not far from our journey's end, we
were by no means relieved from our fears and
misgivings. Often were we surrounded by
bands of reapers, who, armed with their sickles,
made us go through the ordeal of a minute in-
terrogatory. But what cast the thickest gloom
on our minds was the detailed account we re-
ceived from an Alcalde of the events which had
taken place at Seville. A revolution, however
laudable its object, is seldom without some
features which nothing but distance of time or
place can soften into tolerable regularity. We
were too well acquainted with the inefficiency
of most of the men who had suddenly been
raised into power, not to feel a strong reluc-
tance to place ourselves under their govern-
LETTERS FKOM SPAIN. 439
ment and protection. The only man of talents
in the Junta of Seville was Saavedra, the ex-
minister.* Dull ignorance, mixed with a small
portion of inactive honesty, was the general
character of that body. But a man of blood
had found a place in it, and we could not but
fear the repetition of the horrid scene with
which he opened the revolution that was to
give him a share in the supreme government of
the province.
The Count Tilly, a titled Andalusian gentle-
man, of some talents, unbounded ambition, and
no principle, had, on the first appearance of a
general disposition to resist the French, em-
ployed himself in the organization of the in-
tended revolt. His principal agents were men
of low rank, highly endowed with the charac-
teristic shrewdness, quickness, and loquacity
of that class of Andalusians, and thereby admi-
rably fitted to appear at the head of the popu-
lace. Tilly, however, either from the maxim
that a successful revolution must be cemented
with blood a notion which the French Jaco-
bins have too widely spread among us or,
what is more probable, from private motives of
revenge, had made the death of the Count del
Aguila an essential part of his plan.
* See Letter X.
440 LETTERS FROM SPAIN.
That unfortunate man was a member of the
town corporation of Seville, and as such he
joined the established authorities in their en-
deavours to stop the popular ferment. But no
sooner had the insurrection broken out, than
both he and his colleagues made the most ab-
solute surrender of themselves and their power
into the hands of the people. This, however,
was not enough to save the victim whom Tilly
had doomed to fall. One of the inferior leaders
of the populace, one Luque, an usher at a
grammar-school, had engaged to procure the
death of the Count del Aguila. Assisted by
his armed associates, he dragged the unhappy
man to the prison-room for noblemen, or Hi-
dalgos, which stands over one of the gates of
the town, and, deaf to his intreaties, the vile
assassin had him shot on the spot. The corpse,
bound to the arm-chair in which the Count
expired, was exposed for that and the next day
to the public. The ruffian who performed the
atrocious deed, was instantly raised to the
rank of lieutenant in the army. Tilly himself
is one of the Junta ; and so selfish and narrow
are the views which prevail in that body, that,
if the concentration of the now disjointed power
of the provinces should happen, the members,
it is said, will rid themselves of his presence,
by sending a man they fear and detest, to
LETTERS FROM SPA IX. 441
take a share in the supreme authority of the
kingdom.*
The effects of revolutionary success on a
people at large, like those of slight intoxication
on the individual, call forth every good and bad
quality in a state of exaggeration. To an acute
but indifferent observer, Seville, as we found it
on our return, would have been a most inte-
resting study. He could not but admire the
patriotic energy of the inhabitants, their un-
bounded devotion to the cause of their country,
and the wonderful effort by which, in spite of
their passive habits of submission, they had
ventured to dare both the authority of their
rulers, and the approaching bayonets of the
French. He must, however, have looked with
pity on the multiplied instances of ignorance
and superstition which the extraordinary cir-
cumstances of the country had produced.
To my friend and companion, whose anti-
catholic prejudices are the main source of his
mental sufferings, the religious character which
the revolution has assumed, is like a dense mist
concealing or disfiguring every object which
otherwise would gratify his mind. He can see no
prospect of liberty behind the cloud of priests
* This was actually the case at the creation of the Central
Junta.
442 LKTTKKS FROM SPAIN.
who every where stand foremost to take the lead
of our patriots. It is in vain to remind him that
many among those priests whose professional
creed he detests, are far from being sincere ;
that if, by the powerful assistance of England,
we succeed in driving the French out of the
country, the moral and political state of the
nation must benefit by the exertion. The ab-
sence of the King, also, is a fair opening for
the restoration of our ancient liberties ; and
the actual existence of popular Juntas, must
eventually lead to the re-establishment of the
Cortes. To this he answers that he cannot look
for any direct advantage from the feeling which
prompts the present resistance to the ambition
of Napoleon, as it chiefly arises from an in-
veterate attachment to the religious system
whence our present degradation takes source.
That if the course of events should enable
those who have secretly cast off the yoke of
superstition to attempt a political reform, it
will be by grafting the feeble shoots of Liberty
upon the stock of Catholicism ; an experiment
which has hitherto, and must ever prove abor-
tive. That from the partial and imperfect
knowledge of politics and government which
the state of the nation permits, no less than from
the feelings produced by the monstrous abuse
of power under which Spain has groaned for
LETTERS FROM SPAIN. 443
ages, too much will be attempted against the
crown ; which, thus weakened in a nation
whose habits, forms, and manners, are moulded
and shaped to despotism, will leave it for a
time a prey either to an active or an indolent
anarchy, and finally resume its ancient in-
fluence.
Partial as I must own myself to every thing
that falls from my friend, I will not deny that
these views are too general, and that, though
the principles on which he grounds them are
sound, the inferences are drawn much too in-
dependently of future events and circum-
stances. Yet the dim coloured medium through
which he sees the state of a country whence he
derives a constant feeling of unhappiness will
make him, I fear, but little fit to assist with his
talents the work of Spanish reform, so long, at
least, as he shall feel the iron yoke which Spain
has laid on his neck. I have, therefore, formed
a plan for his removal to England, whenever the
progress of the French arms, which our present
advantages cannot permanently check, shall en-
able him to take his departure, so as to shew
that, if his own country oppresses him, he will
not seek relief among her enemies.
APPENDIX TO LETTERS III. AND VII.*
AN ACCOUNT
OF THE
SUPPRESSION OF THE JESUITS IN SPAIN.
Extracted from a Letter of Lord .
THE suppression of the Jesuits in Spain always
appeared to me a very extraordinary occurrence ; and the
more I heard of the character of Charles III. by whose
edict they were expelled, the more singular the event
appeared. Don Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos, who
had been acquainted with all, and intimate with many,
of those who accomplished this object, related several
curious circumstances attending it; gave me a very
interesting and diverting account of the characters con-
The account in Letter VII. of the anxiety manifested by Charles
III. on the occasion of sending to Rome a manuscript in the hand
of a Spanish simpleton, whom the superstition of that country
wished to invest with the honours of Saintship, was compiled
from local tradition, and the recollections preserved from a former
perusal of the present Appendix. Its noble author, whose love of
the literature of Spain, and great acquaintance with that country,
would be enough to designate him, were he 'not best known by a
peculiar benevolence of heart, which no man ever expressed so
faithfully in the affability of his manners, has subsequently fa-
voured the writer of the preceding Letters with his permission to
publish this sketch. The attentive reader will observe some slight
variations between our story of Brother Sebastian and that given
in this Appendix. But as they all relate to circumstances con-
nected with the city of Seville, we were unwilling to omit or to
alter what we have heard from his townsmen and contemporarie*.
Editor
446 SUPPRESSION OF THE
cerned, and sent me, in 1 809, two or three letters, which
are still in my possession, containing some of the secret
history of this very remarkable transaction. I send you
the substance of his conversation, with some additional
anecdotes related to me by other Spaniards. They may
throw light on the accidents and combinations which led
to the suppression of that formidable body of men.
Charles III. came to the throne of Spain with dispo-
sitions very unfavourable to the Jesuits. Not only the
disputes with the Court of Rome, to which the govern-
ment of Naples was at all times exposed, but the personal
affronts which he conceived himself to have received from
Father Ravago, the Jesuit, Confessor to his brother Fer-
dinand, estranged him from that formidable company.
The jealousy entertained by Barbara, Queen of Spain,
of any influence which the Court of Naples might obtain
in the councils of her husband, and the opposite system
of politics adopted by the two Courts, had convinced the
Jesuits of the impossibility of being well with both. Not
foreseeing the premature death of Ferdinand, and the ste-
rility of his wife, they had very naturally exerted all their
arts to ingratiate themselves with the powerful crown of
Spain, rather than with the less important Court of
Naples. They were accordingly satisfied with placing
Padre Ravago about Ferdinand, and, either from
policy or neglect, allowed Charles to select his Confessor
from another order of regular clergy. Queen Barbara
was a patroness of the Jesuits, and, very possibly, her
favourite, the eunuch Farinelli, exerted his influence in
their favour. The Marquis of Ensenada, long the
minister of Ferdinand, was their avowed protector, ally,
and partizan ; and the Queen's ascendancy over her
husband's mind was too firmly established to be shaken
JESUITS IN SPAIN. 447
even by the removal of that minister. But upon the
failure of that Princess, and the subsequent death of the
King himself, the Jesuits experienced a sudden and fatal
reverse of fortune. The policy of the Court of Madrid
was altered. Charles felt deep resentment against Eng-
land for the transactions in the Bay of Naples. The
influence of the Court of Versailles was gradually re-
stored. It may be easily supposed that the active
enemies of the Jesuits in France and Italy began to
turn their eyes to the Court of Madrid with more hopes
of co-operation in that quarter than they had hitherto
ever ventured to entertain. There is, however, no rea-
son to imagine that till the nomination of Roda to the
place of Minister of Grace and Justice, any actual design
was formed by persons in trust or power of having
recourse to such violent expedients as were afterwards
resorted to for the expulsion of the Jesuits.
Don Manuel de Roda, an Aragonese by birth, and an
eminent lawyer at Madrid, had imbibed very early both
the theological and political tenets of the Janscnists.
He had been distinguished at the bar by his resolute and
virulent opposition to the members of the Colegioa
May ores. That institution, founded for the education
and assistance of poor students, had been perverted from
its original intentions : for though no one could be
admitted but upon competition and a plurality of voices,
it consisted de facto entirely of persons of family. Its
members, by the aid of exclusive privileges in the career
of the law. by mutual 'assistance, and a corporation spirit
not unlike that of the Jesuits themselves, had obtained a
larore portion of ecclesiastical and legal patronage, aiul
enjoyed almost a monopoly of the highest judicial offices
in Castile. The members of these colleges were enabled
448 sriTUEssiox OF THE
to succeed to the offices of Fiscal, Oydor. and other
magistracies, without the previous ceremony of passing
advocates, which was a gradation none but those who
were Colegiales could dispense with. These privileges
gave them great influence, and the expense which at-
tended their elections, (especially that of the Rectors of
each College, an annual office of great consideration
among them,) served as an effectual bar to the preten-
sions of any who had not birth and wealth to recommend
them. It is just, however, to observe, that if they were
infected with the narrow spirit of corporations, they
retained to the last the high sense of honour which is
always the boast, and sometimes the characteristic, of
privileged orders of men. It has even been acknowledged
by their enemies, that since the abolition of their exclu-
sive privileges, which Roda lived to accomplish, and, yet
more, since their further discouragement by the Prince
of Peace, the judicial offices have not been filled by
persons of equal character for integrity, learning, and
honour. But those who studied the laws without the
advantages of an education at the Colegios Mayores^
were naturally and justly indignant at the privileges
which they enjoyed. The boldness of Don Manuel de
Roda's opposition to an order of men so invidiously dis-
tinguished, ingratiated him with the lawyers, who, in
Spain as elsewhere, constitute a large, active, and formid-
able body of men. But the same high spirit having
involved him in a dispute with a man of rank and
influence, his friend and protector the Duke of Alva
thought it prudent for him to withdraw from Court; and
with a view of enabling him to do so with credit to him-
self, entrusted him with a public commission to Rome,
where he was received as the agent of the King of Spain.
JESUITS IN spAiy. 44$
He here, no doubt, acquired that knowledge which was
so useful to him afterwards in the prosecution of his im-
portant design. By what fatality he became Minister, I
Icnow not. Charles III. must have departed from his
general rule of appointing every Minister at the recom-
mendation of his predecessor, for Roda succeeded a
Marquis of Campo Villar, who had been educated at the
Colegios Mayores, and was attached to the Jesuits.
Possibly the interest of the Duke of Alva was the cause
of his promotion. He was appointed Minister of Grace
and Justice, I believe, as early as 1763, though Jovel-
lanos implies that he was not Minister till 1765 or even
1766. From the period of his nomination, however, one
may safely date the design of suppressing the Jesuits in
Spain. It was systematically, though slowly and secretly
pursued, by a portion of the Spanish Cabinet. Indeed
the views, not only of the ministry, but of the under-
standing of Roda, were so exclusively directed to such
objects, that Azara sarcastically observed, that he wore
spectacles through one glass of which he could perceive
nothing but a Colegial, and through the other nothing
but a Jesuit. If, however, his views were contracted, he
had the advantage often attributed to a short sight a
clear and more accurate perception of every thing that
came within the limited scope of his organs. He had the
discernment to discover those, who, with dispositions
congenial to his own, had talents to assist him. He
O *
had cunning enough to devise the means of converting
to his purpose the weaknesses of such as, without predis-
position to co-operate with him, were from station or
accident necessary to his design. Though a strict Janse-
nist himself, he selected his associates and partizans indis-
criminately from Jansenists and philosophers or irec-
450 SUPPRESSION' Ot THE
thinkers. Among the first, the most remarkable was
Tavira, bishop of Salamanca ; among the latter Cam-
pomanes and the Count de Aranda.
Before we speak of the co-operation of these powerful
men, it is necessary to explain the difficulties which oc-
curred in securing the sanction and assistance of the
King himself. Charles III. though no friend to the
Jesuits, was still less a friend, either by habit or principle,
to innovation. He was not less averse by constitution to
all danger. Moreover, he was religious and conscien-
tious in the extreme. The< acquiescence and sanction of
his Confessor was indispensably necessary to the adoption
of any measure affecting the interests of the Church.
Neither would the bare consent of the Confessor (in itself
no easy matter to obtain) be sufficient. He must be
zealous in the cause, and cautious as well as active in the
promotion of it. Great secresy must be observed ; for
the scheme might be defeated as effectually by indif-
ference or indiscretion as by direct resistance or intrigue.
There was little in the character of the Confessor to en-
courage a man less enterprising or less cunning than
Roda.
Fr. Joaquin de Elita, or Father Osma, (so called from
the place of his birth) was a friar of little education and
less ability, attached by habit to the order to which he
belonged, and in other respects exempt from those pas-
sions of affection or ambition, as well as from that ardour
of temper or force of opinion, which either excite men to
great undertakings or render them subservient to those
of others. Roda, however, from personal observation,
and from an intimate knowledge of those passions which
a monastic life generally engenders, discovered the means
of engaging even Father Osma in his views. None \vlu
JESUITS IX SPAIN. 451
have not witnessed it can conceive the effect of institu-
tions, of which vows of perpetual celibacy form a neces-
sary part. Their convent, their order, the place of their
nativity, the village or church to which they belong, often
engage in the minds of religious men the affections which
in the course of nature would have been bestowed on
thebf kindred, their wives, or their children. Padre
Elita was born in the city of which the venerable and
illustrious Palafox had been bishop. The sanctity of
that eminent prelate"^ life, the fervour of his devotion,
the active benevolence and Christian fortitude of his
character, had insured him the reputation of a saint, and
might, it was thought by many Catholics, entitle him
to canonization.* Roda, however, well knew that the
* There is a Life of Palafox, published at Paris, in 1767. The
design of the unknown author is evidently to mortify and preju-
dice the Jesuits by exalting the character of one of their earliest and
fiercest opponents. The author is, however, either an ardent fa-
natic of the Jansenist party, and as superstitious as those he wishes
to expose; or he promotes the cause of the Philosophers of France
and Spain by affecting devotion, and conciliating many true be-
lievers to the measure of suppressing the Jesuits. Palafox was
the illegitimate child of Don Jayme de Palafox y Mendoza, by a
lady of rank, who, to conceal her pregnancy, retired to the waters
of Fitero in Navarre, and being delivered on the 24th June, 1600,
to avoid the scandal, took the wicked resolution of drowning her
child in the neighbouring river. The woman employed to per-
petrate this murder was detected before she had effected her pur-
pose, the child saved, and brought up by an old dependant of the
house of Ariza till he was ten years old, when his father returned
from Rome, acknowledged, relieved, and educated him at Alcala
and Salamanca. His mother became a nun of the barefooted Car-
melite order. Palafox was introduced at Court, and to the Count
Duke de Olivares in 1626, and was soon after named to the council
452 SUPPKF.SSIOX OF Tin:
Jesuits bore great enmity to his memory on account of
his disputes with them in South America; he foresaw
that every exertion of that powerful body would be
made to resist the introduction of his name into the Ru-
bric. He therefore suggested very adroitly to Father
Osma the glory which would redound to his native town
if this object could be accomplished. He painted in
glowing colours the gratitude he would inspire in Spain,
nntl the admiration he would excite in the Catholic world
of India. An illness of his paternal sister, the funeral of two re-
markaWe men, and the piety of his mother, made such impression
upon him, that he gave himself up to the most fervent devotion,
and soon after took orders. He became chaplain to the Oucen of
Hungary, Philip I \^th's sister, and travelled through Italy, Ger-
many, Flanders, and France. In 163Q, he was consecrated Bishop of
Angelopolis, or Puebla de los Angelis, in America. His first quar-
rel with the Jesuits was on the subject of tithes. Lands on which
tithes were payable had been alienated in favour of (he Company,
and they pretended, that when once the property of their body,
they were exempt from that tax. The second ground was a pre-
tended privilege of the Jesuits to preach without the permission
of the Diocesan, against which Palafox contended. The Jesuits,
having the Viceroy of New Spain mi their side, obliged Palafox to
fly ; on which occasion he wrote his celebrated letters against his
enemies. A brief of the Pope in his favour did not prevent his
being recalled, in civil terms, by the King. At the petition of the
Jesuits, who dreaded his return to America, the King named him
to the bishopric of Osma. Of the austerity and extravagance of
his principles, the following resolutions of the pious bishop are
specimens : Not to admit any woman to his presence, and never
to speak -to one but with his eyes on the ground, and the door open.
Never to pay a woman a compliment, but when the not doing so
would appear singular or scandalous ; and never to look a female
in the face. "W henever compelled to visit a woman, to wear a cross
with sharp points, next the skin.
JESUITS IN SPAIN.
if through his means a Spaniard of so illustrious a name
and of such acknowledged virtue could be actually
sainted at Rome. He had the satisfaction of finding
that Father Osma espoused the cause with a fervour
hardly to be expected from his character. He not only
advised but instigated and urged the King to support
the pretensions of the bishop of Osma with all his in-
fluence and authority. But here an apparent difficulty
arose, which Roda turned to advantage, and converted to
the instrument of involving the Court of Madrid in an
additional dispute with the Roman Pontiff. Charles III.
was not unwilling to support the pretensions of his
Confessor's favourite Saint ; but he had a job of his
own in that branch to drive with the Court of Rome,
and he accordingly solicited in his turn the eo-opera-
tion of Father Osma, to obtain the canonization of
Brother Sebastian.
The story of this last-mentioned obscure personage is
so curious, and illustrates so forcibly the singular cha-
racter of Charles, that it will not be foreign to my pur-
pose to relate it.
During Philip the Fifth's residence in Seville, Hermano
Sebastian, a sort of lay-brother * of the Convent of San
Francisco el Grande, was accustomed to visit the princi-
pal houses of the place with an image of the Infant Jeus,
in quest of alms for his order. The affected sanctity of
his life, the demure humility of his manner, and the little
sentences of morality with which he was accustomed to
* He was not a lay-brother, but a Donado, a species of religious
drudges, who, without taking vows, wear the habit of the order;
and may leave it when they please. The Donudos are never called
Fray, but Hermano. Sec Dol-lado's Letter IX.
454 SUPPRESSION OF T1IK
address the women and children whom he visited, ac-
quired him the reputation of a saint in a small circle of
simple devotees. The good man began to think himself
inspired, to compose short works of devotion, and even
to venture occasionally on the character of a prophet.
Accident or design brought him to the palace : he was
introduced to the apartments of the princes, and Charles,
then a child, took a prodigious fancy to Brother Sebas-
tian of the Nino Jesus, as he was generally called in the
neighbourhood, from the image he carried when solicit-
ing alms for his convent. To ingratiate himself with the
royal infant, the old man made Charles a present of some
prayers written in his own hand, and told him, with an
air of sanctified mystery, that he would one day be King
of Spain, in reward, no doubt, of his early indications of
piety and resignation. The present delighted Charles,
and, young as he was, the words and sense of the pro-
phecy sunk deep in his superstitious and retentive mind.
Though he was seldom known to mention the circum-
stance for years, yet he never parted with the manuscript.
It was his companion by day and by night, at home and
in the field. When he was up, it was constantly in his
pocket; and it was placed under his pillow during his
hours of rest. But when, by his accession to the crown of
Spain, its author's prediction was fulfilled, the work ac-
quired new charms in his eyes, his confidence in Brother
Sebastian's sanctity was confirmed, and his memory was
cherished with additional fondness by the grateful and
credulous monarch. At the same time, therefore, that
the pretensions of the Bishop of Osma to canonization
were urged at Rome, the Spanish minister was instructed
to speak a good word for the humble friar Sebastian.
The lively and sarcastic Azara was entrusted with this
Jt SUITS IX SPAIN. 155
negotiation ; and, as I know that he was at some pains to
preserve the documents of this curious transaction, it is
not impossible that he may have left memoirs of his life,
in which the whole correspondence will, no doubt, be de-
tailed with minuteness and exquisite humour.
The Court of Rome is ever fertile in expedients, espe-
cially when the object is to start difficulties and suggest
obstacles to any design. The investigation of Palafox's
pretensions was studiously protracted; and it was easy
to perceive that the influence of the Jesuits in the Sacred
College was exerted to throw new impediments in the
way of their adversary's canonization. Though the
Court of Rome could never seriously have thought of
giving Brother Sebastian a place in the Rubric, they
amused Charles III. by very long discussions on his
merits, and went through, with scrupulous minuteness,
all the previous ceremonies for ascertaining the conduct
of a saint.
It is a maxim, that the original of every writing of a
person claiming to be made a saint, must be examined at
Rome by the Sacred College, and that no copy, however
attested, can be admitted as sufficient testimony, if the
original document is in existence. The book, therefore,
to which the Spanish Monarch was so attached, was re-
quired at Rome. Here was an abundant source of nego-
tiation and delay. Charles could not bring himself to
part with his treasure, and the forms of canonization
precluded the College from proceeding without it. At
length, the King, from his honest and disinterested zeal
for the friar, was prevailed upon. But Azara was in-
structed to have the College summoned, and the Cardi-
nals ready, on the day and even the hour at which it was
calculated that the most expeditious courier could convey
456 KCPPUESSION OF THJE
the precious book from Madrid to Rome. Relays were
provided on the road, and Charles III. himself deposited
the precious manuscript in the hands of his most trusty
messenger, with long and anxious injunctions to preserve
it most religiously, and not to lose a moment in sallying
forth from Rome on his return, when the interesting con-
tents of the volume should have been perused.
The interim was to Charles III. a " phantasma, or a
hideous dream." He never slept, and scarcely took any
nourishment during the few days he was separated from
the beloved paper. His domestic economy, and the
regulation of his hours, which neither public business
nor private affliction in any other instance disturbed,
was altered ; and the chase, which was not interrupted
even by the illness and death of his children, was sus-
pended till Brother Sebastian's original MS. could again
accompany him to the field. He stood at the window of
his palace counting the drops of rain on the glasses, and
sighing deeply. Business, pleasure, conversation, and
meals, were suspended, till the long-expected treasure
returned, and restored the monarch to his usual avo-
cations.
When, however, his Confessor discovered that the
Court of Rome was trifling with their solicitations, that
to Palafox there was an insurmountable repugnance, and
when the King began to suspect that the sacrifice he had
been compelled to make was all to no purpose, and that
the pains of separation had been inflicted upon him with-
out the slightest disposition to grant him the object
for which alone he had been inclined to endure it, both
he and his Confessor grew angry, The opposition to
their wishes was, perhaps, truly, and certainly indus-
triously, traced to the Jesuits.
JESUITS IN SPAIN. 457
In the mean while a riot occurred at Madrid. In 1 7GC,
the people rose against the regulation of police which
attempted to suppress the cloaks and large hats, as
affording too great opj>ortunities for the concealment
of assassins. These and other obnoxious measures were
attributed to the Marquis of Squilace, who, in his qua-
lity of favourite as well as foreigner, was an unpopular
minister of finance. Charles III. was compelled to
abandon him; and the Count of Aranda, disgraced under
Ferdinand VI. and lately appointed to the captain-
generalship of Valencia, was named President of the
council of Castile, for the purpose of pacifying by his
popularity, and suppressing by his vigour, the remaining
discontents of the people. He entered into all Roda's
views. As an Aragonese, he was an enemy of the Co-
leglos Mayores, for they admitted few subjects of that
Crown to their highest distinctions: and as a free-
thinker, and man of letters, he was anxious to suppress
the Jesuits.
Reports, founded or unfounded, were circulated in the
country, and countenanced by these powerful men, that
the Jesuits had instigated the riots of Madrid. It was
confidently asserted, that many had been seen in the mob,
though disguised ; and Father Isidro Lopez, an Astu-
rian, who was considered as one of the leading characters
in the company, was expressly named as having been
active in the streets. Ensenada, the great protector of
the Jesuits in the former reign, had been named by the
populace as the proper successor of Squilace, and there
were certainly either grounds for suspecting, or pretexts
for attributing the discontent of the metropolis to the
machinations of the Jesuits and their protector the ex-
minister Ensenada. Enquiries were instituted. Many
458 SUPPRESSION OF TILE
witnesses were examined; but great secresy was pre-
served. It is, however, to be presumed, that, under
colour of investigating the causes of the late riot, Aranda
and Roda contrived to collect every information which
could inflame the mind of the King against those institu-
tions which they were determined to subvert. They had
revived the controversy respecting the conduct of the
venerable Palafox, and drawn the attention both of
Charles III. and the public to the celebrated letter of
that prelate, in which he describes the machinations of
the Jesuits in South America, and which their party had
but a few years since sentenced to be publicly burnt in
the great square of Madrid.
But, even with the assistance of Father Osma, the ac-
quiescence of the King, and the concert of many foreign
enemies of the company, Roda and Aranda were in want
of the additional aid which talents, assiduity, learning,
and character could supply, to carry into execution a
project vast in its conception, and extremely complicated,
as well as delicate in its details. They found it in the fa-
mous Campomanes. Perhaps the grateful recollection of
services, and the natural good-nature of Jovellarios, led
him to praise too highly his early protector and precursor
in the studies which he himself brought to greater per-
fection. But Campomanes was an enlightened man,
and a laborious as well as honest minister. He was at
that time Fiscal of the Council and Chancellor of Castile,
and considered by the profession of the law, as well as
by the great commercial and political bodies throughout
Spain, as an infallible oracle on all matters regarding the
internal administration of the kingdom. The Coleccion
de Providencias tomadas por clgobierno sobre el cstrana-
mlento yocupacion dc tenvporaltdades de los Regulares de
JESUITS IN SPAIX. 459
fa Compania (Collection of measures taken by the Go-
vernment for the alienation and seizure of the temporali-
ties of the Regulars of the company of Jesuits) is said to
be a monument of his diligence, sagacity, and vigour.
A royal decree was issued on 27th February, 1767,
and dated from el Pardo, by which a Junta, composed of
several members of the Royal Council, was instituted, in
consequence of the riot of Madrid of the preceding year.
To this Junta several bishops, selected from those who
were most attached to the doctrines of Saint Thomas
Aquinas, and, consequently, least favourable to the Je-
suits, (for they espouse the rival tenets,) were added for
the purpose of giving weight and authority to their decree.
In this Junta the day and form of the measure were
resolved upon, and instructions drawn out for the Ma-
gistrates who were to execute it both in Spain and in
America, together with directions for the nature of the
preparations, the carriages to be provided at the various
places inland, and the vessels to be ready in the ports.
The precautions were well laid. The secret was wonder-
fully kept ; and on the night of the first of April, at mid-
night precisely, every College of the Jesuits throughout
Spain was surrounded by troops, and every member of
each collected in their respective chapters, priests or
lay-brothers, young or old, acquainted with the decree,
and forcibly conveyed out of the kingdom. Their suf-
ferings are well known ; and the fortitude with which
they bore them must extort praise even from those who
are most convinced of the mischiefs which their long
influence in the courts of Europe produced. The expul-
sion and persecution of the French priests during the Re-
volution was more bloody, but scarcely less inhuman, than
the hardships inflicted by the regular and legitimate
460 sim'RKSiox OF THE JESUITS.
monarchies which had originally encouraged them, on
the Jesuits. On the other hand, the suppression of that
society was favourable to the cause of liberty, morals,
and even learning ; for though their system of educa-
tion has been much extolled, it must be acknowledged
that in Spain, at least, the period at which the education
of youth was chiefly entrusted to Jesuits, is that in which
Castilian literature declined, and general ignorance pre-
vailed. If the state of education in a country is to be
judged of by its fruits, the Jesuits in Spain certainly
retarded its progress. In relation to the rest of Europe,
the Spaniards were farther advanced in science and
learning during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, than
during the seventeenth and eighteenth ; and since the
suppression of the Company, in 1767, and not till then,
a taste for literature and a spirit of improvement revived
among them.
NOTES.
NOTE A.
On the Devotion of the Spaniards to tJte Immaculate
Conception of the Virgin Mary. p. 25.
THE history of the transactions relative to the dis-
putes on the immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary,
even when confined to those which took place at Seville,
could not be compressed within the limits of one of the
preceding letters. Such readers, besides, as take little
interest in subjects of this nature, would probably have
objected to a detailed account of absurdities, which seem
at first sight scarcely to deserve any notice. Yet there
are others to whom nothing is without interest which
depicts any peculiar state of the human mind, and ex-
hibits some of the innumerable modifications of society.
Out of deference, therefore, to the first, we have de-
tached the following narrative from the text of Doblado's
Letters, casting the information we have collected from
4(j ( ,l NOTES.
the Spanish writers into a note, the length of which will,
we hope, be excused by those of the latter description.
The dispute on the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin
began between the Dominicans and Franciscans as early
as the thirteenth century. The contending parties stood
at first upon equal ground ; but " the merits of faith and
devotion" were so decidedly on the side of the Fran-
ciscans, that they soon had the Christian mob to support,
them, and it became dangerous for any Divine to assert
that the Mother of God (such is the established language
of the Church of Rome) had been, like the rest of man-
kind, involved in original sin. The oracle of the Capi-
tol allowed, however, the disputants to fight out their
battles, without shewing the least partiality, till public
opinion had taken a decided turn.
In 1613, a Dominican, in a sermon preached at the
cathedral of Seville, threw out some doubts on the Im-
maculate Conception. This was conceived to be an in-
sult not only to the Virgin Mary, but to the community
at large ; and the populace was kept with difficulty from
taking summary vengeance on the offender and his con-
vent. Zuniga, the annalist of Seville, who published
his work in 1677, deems it a matter of Christian for-
bearance not to consign the names of the preacher and his
convent to the execration of posterity. But if the civil
and ecclesiastical authorities exerted themselves for
the protection of the offenders, they were also the first
to promote a series of expiatory rites, which might
avert the anger of their Patroness, and make ample
reparation to her insulted honour. Processions innu-
merable paraded the streets, proclaiming the original
purity of the Virgin Mother ; and Miguel del Cid, a
Sevil/ian poet of that day, was urged by the Archbishop
XOTKS.
to compose the Spanish hymn, "Todo el Mundo en
general," which, though far below mediocrity, is still
nightly sung at Seville by the associations called Rosa-
rios, which have been described in Doblado's Letters.*
The next step was to procure a decision of the Pope in
favour of the Immaculate Conception. To promote this
important object two commissioners were dispatched to
Rome, both of them dignified clergymen, who had de-
voted their lives and fortunes to the cause of the Virgin
Mary.
After four years of indescribable anxiety the long
wished-for decree, which doomed to silence the opponents
of Mary's original innocence, was known to be on the
point of passing the seal of' the Fisherman-^, and the
SevilUans held themselves in readiness to express their
unbounded joy the very moment of its arrival in their
town. This great event took place on the 22d of Octo-
ber 1617, at ten o'clock P. M. " The news, says
Zuuiga, produced a universal stir in the town. Men left
their houses to congratulate one another in the streets.
The fraternity of the Nazarenes joining in a procession of
more than six hundred persons, with lighted candles in
their hands, sallied forth from their church, singing the
hymn in honour of Original Purity. Numerous bon-
fires were lighted, the streets were illuminated from the
windows and terraces, and ingenious fireworks were let
off in different parts of the town. At midnight the bells
of the cathedral broke out into a general chime, which
was answered by every parish church and convent ; and
* Letter I. p. 23.
f Sigillum or annult/s Piscaforis, the great seal of the Popes.
4<4 NOTl'.S.
many persons in masks and fancy dresses having gathered
before the archbishop's palace, his grace appeared at the
balcony, moved to tears by the devout joy of his flock.
At the first peal of the bells all the churches were thrown
open, and the hymns and praises offered up in them lent
to the stillness of night the most lively sounds of the day. 1 '
A day was subsequently fixed when all the authorities
were to take a solemn oath in the Cathedral, to believe
and assert the Immaculate Conception. An endless series
of processions followed to thank Heaven for the late
triumph against the unbelievers. In fact, the people of
Seville could not move about, for some time, without
forming a religious procession. " Any boy," says a
contemporary historian. " who. going upon an errand,
chose to strike up the hymn Todo el Mundo, was sure to
draw after him a train, which from one grew up into a
multitude ; for there was not a gentleman, clergyman, or
friar, who did not join and follow the chorus which he
thus happened to meet in the streets."
Besides these religious ceremonies, shows of a more
worldly character were exhibited. Among these was the
Moorish equestrian game, called, in Arabic, El Jeerid,
and in Spanish, Canas, from the reeds which, instead of
javelins, the cavaliers dart at each other as they go
through a great variety of graceful and complicated evo-
lutions on horseback.* Fiestas Reales, or bull-fights,
* Gentlemen of the first rank, who are members of the associations
called Muestranzas, perform at these games on the King's birth-day,
and other public festivals. Horsemanship was formerly in great
estimation among the Andalusian gentry, who joined in a variety
of amusements connected with that art. Such was the Paicjas de
NOTES
where gentlemen enter the arena, were also exhibited on
this occasion. To diversify, however, the spectacle, and
indulge the popular taste, which requires a species of
comic interlude, called Mogigcmga, a dwarf, whose dimi-
nutive limbs required to have the stirrups fixed on the
flap of the saddle, mounted on a milk-white horse, and
attended by four negroes of gigantic stature, dressed in a
splendid oriental costume, fought with one of the bulls,
and drove a full span of his lance into the animal's body
a circumstance which was deemed too important to be
omitted by the historiographers of Seville.
The most curious and characteristic of the shows was,
however, an allegorical tournament, exhibited at the ex-
pense of the company of silk-weavers, who, from the
monopoly with the Spanish Colonies, had attained great
wealth and consequence at that period. It is thus de-
scribed, from the records of the times, by a modern Spa-
nish writer.
" Near the Puerta del Perdon (one of the gates of the
cathedral), a platform was erected, terminating under the
altar dedicated to the Virgin, which stands over the
gate.* Three splendid seats were placed at the foot of
the altar, and two avenues railed in on both sides of the
Hachas, a game performed by night, at which the riders bore
lighted torches. When Philip the Fourth visited Seville, in l6'24
one hundred gentlemen, each attended by two grooms, all with
torches in their hands, ran races before the king. This was the
only amusement which, according to the established notions,
could be permitted in Lent.
* The reader must be aware that this was an imitation of a foot
tournament, an amusement as frequent among the ancii-nt Spa-
nish knights as. the jousts on horseback. It is called in the
Spanish Chronicles Tornfo de a pit.
2 ii
46() NOTES.
platform to admit the Judges, the challenger, the sup-
porters or seconds, the marshal, and the adventurers.
Near one of the corners of the stage was pitched the
challenger's tent of black and brown silk, and in it a
seat covered with black velvet. In front stood the figure
of an apple-tree bearing fruit, and hanging from its
boughs, a target, on which the challenge was exposed to
view.
" At five in the afternoon, the Marshal, attended by
his Adjutant, presented himself in the lists. He was
followed by four children, in the dress used to represent
angels, with lighted torches in their hands. Another
child, personating Michael the Archangel, was the leader
of a second group of six angels, who were the bearers of
the prizes a Lamb and a Male Infant. The Judges,
Justice and Mercy, appeared last of all, and took their
appointed seats.
" The sound of drums, fifes, and clarions, announced
soon after, the approach of another group, composed of
two savages, of gigantic dimensions, \vith large clubs on
their shoulders, eight torch-bearers in black, and two
infernal Furies, and, in the centre, the challenger's shield-
bearer, followed by the challenger's supporter or second,
dressed in black and gold, with a plume of black and
yellow feathers. This band having walked round the
stage, the second brought the challenger out of the tent,
who, dressed uniformly with his supporter, appeared
wielding a lance twenty-five hands in length.*
* Though the Spanish writer has forgotten to mention the
allegory of the challenger, it is evident, from the sequel, that he
was intended to represent Sin.
NOTES. 467
The following is a list of the Adventurers, their at-
tendants or torch-bearers, and supporters or seconds:
6 Clowns Seconds
{Hope and
Innocence.
6 Infernal Furies
Envy.
6 Dwarfs*, three ,.
Angels in the ha- I
bit of Pilgrims, f
and Isaac
Faith.
6 Pages
Patience.
6 Squires
Repentance.
4 Jews
Idolatry.
12 Squires
Covetousness
12 Squires
{Divine Love
and Grace-
Adam
Cain
Abraham
Job
David
Jeroboam
Ahab
John the Baptist
" The dresses (continues the historian) were all splen-
did, and suited to the characters.
" The Adventurers engaged the challenger in succes-
sion, and all were wounded by the first stroke of his
enormous lance. In this state they drew their swords,
and fought with various success, some conquering the
common enemy, while others yielded to his superior force.
None, however, distinguished himself so much as the
Baptist, who, regardless of the wound he had received at
the first onset, and being armed with fresh weapons by
Grace, beat the adversary in every succeeding rencounter.
His extraordinary success was rewarded with a seat near
the Judges, and the Lamb was awarded him as a prize.
" After this, the Marshal and his Adjutant, followed
by Grace and Divine Love, left the stage. In a short
time they re-appeared, followed by twelve youths, as
* Dwarfs were formerly very common among the servants of the
Spanish nobility. But it is not easy to guess for what reason they
were allotted to Abraham, on this occasion.
468 xoxiis.
torch- bearers, the seven Virtues * personated by children
from four to five years of age, and nine Angels, as repre-
sentatives of the nine hierarchies. Two squires attended
each of the Virtues and Angels ; the whole train being
closed by Grace and Divine Love, supporting the last
Adventurer, a beautiful child seven years old, who, as
intended to represent the Holy Virgin, was more splen-
didly dressed than the rest, in a suit of sky-blue and
white, sprinkled with golden stars, the hair flowing down
the shoulders in curls, and held round the head by a
twelve-starred diadem.
" When the combatants faced each other, the challenger
could not conceal his trepidation. The female Adven-
turer, on the other hand, would not use the lance with
which she had entered the lists ; for it bore the words
DAUGHTER OF ADAM, in a banderole which hung from
it. Having thrown away that weapon, she received ano-
ther from the seconds, with the inscription DAUGHTER
OF THE FATHER. At this moment t'^e challenger darted
his lance; but, in his fear and confusion, he could not
touch his adversary, while the heroine, on the contrary,
taking an unerring aim at his breast, brought him in-
stantly upon his knees ; and the victory was completed
with two other lances, bearing the mottoes MOTHER OF
THE Sox SPOUSE OF THE HOLY GHOST. Unhurt by
her adversary, she had now laid him on the ground, and
placed her foot and sword upon his neck, amidst a shout
of universal acclamation. The Judges awarded her the
Child Jesus, as a prize, and seated her above all in a
throne. Next under the Virgin took their seats Divine
The Spanish Catechism enumerates seven vices and seven
opposite virtues.
N'OTES. 469
Love, Grace, Michael, and John the Baptist, and a
general tournament ensued, in which all the other com-
batants engaged. The tournament being ended, the
challenger and his second retired through the left avenue-
The rest of the actors conducted the victor, through that
on the right, attended by one hundred and forty torch-
bearers, and a band of musicians singing her triumphal
hymn, which was echoed by the immense concourse."
Compendia Historico de Sev'dla por Don Fermin Arana
de Varflora (Padre Valderrama) p. 89, et seq.
NOTE B.
On a Passage in Xenophon. p. 52.
The passage from Xenophon translated in the text is
this : Of ovv d/u<l>i roV ^uKparyv irpwroy [liv, uairtp
ijv, ttran-ovvTif TTJV K\rjffii', ov-% inriayvovvTO
we irdvv ay86[*evot tyavtpos rjv, ft fi^ f^
Sympos. c. 1. 7. Ernesti is angry at the
, which is soon after repeated, when speaking
of the order in which the guests placed themselves at
table. He wants, in the last passage, to change it into
we erv\ov. But though the emendation is plausible,
there seems to be no necessity to alter the reading. Xe-
nophon is, indeed, remarkably fond of' that phrase.
The f<*roc, in both places, probably means according to
custom. It might be applied to the order of precedence
in England, and it should seem to have been used by
Xenophon to denote the Greek sense of propriety in
taking a place at table. In Spain, where there is no
established order, a great deal of bowing and scraping
takes place before the guests can arrange that important
point. But, without any settled rule, there is a .tact
470 NOTES.
which seldom misleads any one who wishes not to give
offence. This is probably the second wWs/o ftVov of Xe-
nophon.
NOTE C.
" A little work that gave an amusing Miracle of the
Virgin for every Day in the Year."" p. 81.
The book alluded to in the text is the Ano Virgineo.
The moral tendency of this and similar books may be shewn
by the following story technically named an Example
which I will venture to give from memory : A Spanish
soldier, who had fought in the Netherlands, having re-
turned home with some booty, was leading a profligate
and desperate life. He had, however, bled for the Faith :
and his own was perfectly orthodox. A large old picture
of the Virgin Mary hung over the inside of the door of
his lodgings, which, it seems, did not correspond in lofti-
ness to the brave halberdier's mind and demeanour.
Early every morning he used to sally forth in pursuit of
unlawful pleasure ; but, though he never did bend his
knees in prayer, he would not cross the threshold with-
out a loud Hail Mary ! to the picture, accompanied by
an inclination of the halbert, which partly from his out-
rageous hurry to break out of the nightly prison, partly
from want of room for his military salute, inflicted many
a wound on the canvass. Thus our soldier went on
spending his life and money, till a sharp Spanish dagger
composed him to rest, in the heat of a brawl. u He
died and made no sign." The Devil, who thought him
as fair a prize as any that had ever been within his grasp,
waited only for the sentence which, according to Catho-
lics, is passed on every individual immediately after death,
in what they call the Particular Judgment. At this
NOTKS. 471
critical moment the Virgin Mary presented herself in a
black mantle, similar to that which she wore in the
picture, but sadly rent and slit in several places. " These
are the marks," she said to the affrighted soul, " of your
rude, though certainly well-meant civility. I will not,
however, permit that one who has so cordially saluted me
every day should go into everlasting fire." Thus say-
ing, she bade the evil spirit give up his prisoner, and the
gallant soldier was sent to purge off the dross of his bois-
terous nature in the gentler flames of purgatory. A por-
tion of the book from which I recollect this story, was, for
many years, read every evening in one of the principal pa-
rishes at Seville. I observed the same practice at a town
not far from the capital of Andalusia ; and, for any
thing I know to the contrary, it may be very common all
over Spain. Such is the doctrine which, disowned in
theory by the divines of the Roman church, but grow-
ing out of the system of saint-worship, constitutes the
main religious feeling of the vulgar, and taints strongly
the minds of the higher classes in Spain. The Chroni-
cles of the Religious Orders are full of narratives, the
whole drift of which is to represent their patron saint as
powerful to save from the very jaws of hell. The skill
of the painter has often been engaged to exhibit these
stories to the eye, and the Spanish convents abound in
pictures more encouraging to vice than the most profli-
gate prints of the Palais Royal. I recollect one at
Seville in the convent of the Antonines a species of the
genus Monackus Franciscanus of the Monachologia
so strangely absurd, that I hope the reader will forgive
my lengthening this note with its description. The
picture I allude to was in the cloisters of the convent of
San Antonio, facing the principal entrance, so late as the
NOTES.
year 1810, when I last was at Seville. The subject is
the hair-breadth escape of a great sinner, whom St.
Francis saved against all chances. An extract from the
Chronicles of the Order, which is found in a corner of
the painting, informs the beholder that the person whose
soul is represented on the canvass, was a lawless nobleman,
who, fortified in his own castle, became the terror and
abhorrence of the neighbourhood. As neither the life
of man, nor the honour of woman, was safe from the
violence of his passions, none willingly dwelt upon his
lands, or approached the gate of the castle. It chanced,
however, that two Franciscan friars, having lost the way
in a stormy night, applied for shelter at the wicked
nobleman's gate, where they met with nothing but insult
and scorn. It was well for them that the fame of St.
Francis filled the world at that time. The holy saint,
with the assistance of St. Paul, had lately cut the throat
of an Italian bishop, who had resisted the establishment
of the Franciscans in his diocese.*
* This curious scene is the subject of another picture in the
cloisters of Saint Francis, at Seville. The bishop is seen in his
bed, where Saint Francis has neatly severed the head from the body
with Saint Paul's sword, which he had borrowed for this pious
purpose. As the good friars might have been suspected of having
a hand in this miracle, the saint performed an additional wonder.
The figures of Saint Paul and Saint Francis stood side by side in a
painted glass window of the principal convent of the order. The
apostle hada sword in his hand, while his companion was weaponless.
To the great surprise of the fathers, it was observed, one morning,
that Saint Paul had given away the sword to his friend. The
death of the bishop, which happened that very night, explained
the wonder, and taught the world what those might expect who
thwarted the plans of Heaven in the establishment ot' the Fran-
ciscans.
NOTES. 473
The fear of a similar punishment abated the fierceness
of the nobleman, and he ordered his servants to give the
friars some clean straw for a bed, and a couple of eggs
for their supper. Having given this explanation, the
painter trusts to the appropriate language of his art, and
takes up the story immediately after the death of the
noble sinner. Michael the archangel who by a tradi-
tional belief, universal in Spain, and probably common
to all Catholic countries, is considered to have the charge
of weighing departed souls with their good works,
against the sins they have committed is represented
with a large pair of scales in his hand. Several angels,
in a group, stand near him, and a crowd of devils are
watching, at a respectful distance, the result of the trial.
The newly-departed soul, in the puny shape of a sickly
boy, has been placed, naked, in one scale, while the op-
posite groans under a monstrous heap of swords, dag-
gers, poisoned bowls, love-letters, arid portraits of females
who had been the victims of his fierce desires. It is
evident that this ponderous mass would have greatly out-
weighed the slight and nearly transparent form which
was to oppose its pressure, had not Saint Francis, whose
figure stands prominent in the painting, assisted the dis-
tressed soul by slipping a couple of eggs and a bundle
of straw into its own side of the balance. Upon this
seasonable addition, the instruments and emblems of
guilt are seen to fly up and kick the beam. It appears
from this that the Spanish painter agrees with Milton in
the system of weighing Fate ; and that, since the days of
Homer and Virgil, superior weight is become the sign of
victory which with them was that of defeat quo vergat
pondcrc lelhum.
474 MOTES.
NOTE D.
"On the Moral Character of the Spanish Jesuits." p. 89.
Whatever we may think of the political delinquencies
of their leaders, their bitterest enemies have never ven-
tured to charge the Order of Jesuits with moral irregula-
rities. The internal policy of that body precluded the
possibility of gross misconduct. Np Jesuit could step out
of doors without calling on the superior for leave and a
companion, in the choice of whom great care was taken
to vary the couples. Never were they allowed to pass a
single night out of the convent, except when attending a
dying person : and, even then, they were under the
strictest injunctions to return at whatever hour the soul
departed. Nothing, however, can give a more striking
view of the discipline and internal government of the Je-
suits than a case well known in my family, which I shall
here insert as not devoid of interest. A Jesuit of good
connexions, and more than common abilities, had, during
a long residence at Granada, become a general favourite,
and especially in a family of distinction where there were
some young ladies. On one of the three days properly
named the Carnival, he happened to call at that house,
and found the whole family indulging with a few intimate
friends in the usual mirth of the season ; but all in a pri-
vate domestic manner. With the freedom and vivacity
peculiar to Spanish females, the young ladies formed a
conspiracy to make their favourite Jesuit stand up and
dance with them. Resistance was in vain: they teased
and cajoled the poor man, till he, in good-natured con-
descension, got up, moved in the dance for a few minutes,
and retired again to his seat. Years elapsed : he was
removed from Granada, and probably forgot the transient
gaiety into which he had been betrayed. It is well
NOTES. 475
known that the general of the Jesuits, who made Rome
his constant residence, appointed from thence to every
office in the order, all over the world. But so little ca-
price influenced those nominations, that the friends of the
unfortunate dancer were daily expecting to see him
elected provincial governor of the Jesuits in Andalusia.
To their great surprise, however, the election fell upon
a much inferior man. As the elections were triennial,
the strongest interest was made for the next turn. Pressed
on all sides, the general desired his secretary to return a
written answer. It was conceived in these words : " It
cannot be : he danced at Granada."
I have seen Capuchin friars, the most austere order of
Franciscans, rattling on a guitar, and singing Boleros
before a mixed company in the open fields ; and I have
heard of a friar, who being called to watch over a death-
bed, in a decent but poor family, had the audacity to take
gross liberties with a female in the very room where the
sick man lay speechless. He recovered, however, strength
enough to communicate this horrid insult to his son, from
whom I have the fact. The convent to which this friar
belonged, is notorious, among the lower classes, for
profligacy.
I shall add a little trait illustrative of Spanish manners.
Afriar in high glee is commonly reminded of his profession,
in a jeering tone, by the wags of the company. Cries of,
(Jdnamo, Padre, (hemp, my father !) are heard from all
sides, alluding to the scourge used for the discipline,
which is made of that substance, and recommending it
as a proper cure for rebellious spirits. These two words
will cut a friar to the heart.
476 NOTES.
NOTE E.
*' On the Prevalence of Scepticism among- the Catholic
Clergy." p. 126.
I once heard an English gentleman, who had resided
a long time in Italy, where he obtained lodgings in a
convent, relate his surprise at the termination of a
friendly discussion which he had with the most able in-
dividuals of the house, on the points of difference be-
tween the Churches of England and Rome. The dis-
pute had been animated, and supported with great ability
on the Catholic side by one of the youngest monks.
When, at length, all, except the chief disputants, had
retired, the young monk, turning to his English guest,
asked him whether he really believed what he had been
defending? Upon receiving a serious answer in the
affirmative, he could not help exclaiming, Allor lei c.rede
piii che tutto il convento.
NOTE F.
" The Child God."" p. 167.
The representation of the Deity in the form of a child
is very common in Spain. The number of little figures,
about a foot high, called Nino Dios, or Nino Jesus, is
nearly equal to that of nuns in most convents. The
nuns dress them in all the variety of the national cos-
tumes, such as clergymen, canons in their choral robes,
doctors of divinity in their hoods, physicians in their
wigs and gold-headed canes, Sec. &c. The Nino Jesus is
often found in private houses; and in some parts of
Spain, where contraband trade is the main occupation
of the people, is seen in the dress of a smuggler with
NOTES. 477
a brace of pistols at his girdle, and a blunderbuss lean-
ing on his arm.
NOTE G.
On the Town of Olbera.'" p. 192.
In De Rocca's " Memoires sur la Guerre des Fran-
$ais en Espagne," there is a trait so perfectly in charac-
ter with Don LeucadkTs description of the people of
Olbera, that I must beg leave to transcribe it :
" Nous formames un bivouac dans une prairie ehtouree
de murs, attenante a. Tauberge qui est sur la route au bas
du village. Les habitans furent, pendant le reste du
jour, assez tranquilles en apparence, et ils nous fourni-
rent des vivres; mais, au lieu d'un jeune boeuf que
j'avais demande, ils nous apporterent un ane coupe en
quartiers : les hussards trouverent que ce veau, comme
ils 1'appellaient, avail le gout un peu fade ; mais ce ne fut
que long-temps apres que nous apprimes cette bizarre
tromperie, par les montagnards eux-memes. Ils nous
criaient souvent, dans la suite, en tiraillant avec nous,
' Vous avez mange de Pane a Olbera.' Cetait, dans leur
opinion, la plus sanglante des injures qu 1 on put faire a
des chretiens. 11
De Rocca^ book abounds in lively pictures of Spa-
nish manners, especially in the account he gives of the
Serrania de Ronda ; without indulging national partiali-
ties, he does full justice to his mortal enemies, and re-
presents them in the most favourable colours which were
consistent with truth.
478 NOTKS.
NOTE H.
" The effectual aid given by that Crucifix in the Plague
of 1469, was upon record" p. 196.
Zuniga, in his Annals, copies a Spanish inscription,
which still exists in the convent of Saint Augustin, at
Seville ; of which we subjoin a translation : -
" In 1649, this town being under a most violent attack
of the plague, of which great numbers died *, the two
most illustrious Chapters, Ecclesiastical and Secular, re-
quested that this community of our father Saint Au-
gustin, should allow the image of Christ to be carried to
the Cathedral. It was, accordingly, conveyed, on the
second of July of the same year, in a solemn procession,
attended by the Secular Chapter (the Town Corporation),
and all the religious communities, amidst the loud
waitings of the people ; when the most illustrious the
Chapter of the Cathedral walked to meet the procession
at the end of the street of the Placentines^. The most
holy image was left that evening and the ensuing night
in the Cathedral, and returned the next day to its shrine,
* Espinosa, the modern editor and annotator of Zuniga, states,
from ancient records, that within the first six weeks after the ap-
pearance of the plague, the number of deaths amounted to eighty
thousand. This, however, we consider as a palpable exaggeration ;
for, though Seville was nearly depopulated on that occasion, it
is probable that it never contained more than one hundred thou-
sand inhabitants.
f- Seville has several streets bearing the name of foreign nations
a faint memorial of its former commerce anJ wealth. The
street of the Placentines is a continuation of that of the Franks
(Francos). There is a Lombard Street (calle Loinbardos), a
Genoa Strcd, and some others of a similar denomination.
NOTES. 479
our Lord being pleased to ordain that, the plague should
begin to abate from the day when the image was brought
out, and cease altogether at the end of the Octavario,
(eight days worship), 'as it was attested by the physicians.
Wherefore the most noble and most loyal city of Seville
appointed the said second of July, for ever, to repair to
this convent as an act of thanksgiving for that great
benefit."
In spite of this solemn acknowledgment of the mira-
cle, the astrologers of that day were unwilling to give
the crucifix the whole credit of staying the plague.
Zuniga shrewdly observes that the conjunction of Jupiter
with Mars, which, according to Captain Francis de
Ruesta, removed the infection, did not take place till
the 12th of July, ten days after the wonderful effects of
the procession had become visible: and the Captain
himself, probably to keep clear of the Inquisition, de-
clares that the favourable influence of the planets " was
previously ensured by the exhibition of the Holy Christ
of Saint Augustin." Zuniga, Anales de Sevilla, t. iv.
p. 404.
NOTE I.
" Vicious Habits of the Religious Probationers" p. 219.
The Spanish satirical novel, " Fray Gerundio de
Campazas,"" contains a lively picture of the adventures
of a Novice. It was written by Padre Isla, a Jesuit,
for the purpose of checking the foppery and absurdity of
the popular preachers. Cervantes himself could not
boast of greater success in banishing the books of
chivalry than Isla in shaming the friars out of the af-
fected and often profane concetti., which, in his time,
480 XOTKS.
were mistaken for pTilpit eloquence. But the Inquisition
could not endure that her great props, the religious or-
ders, should be exposed, in any of their members, to
the shafts of ridicule, and Fray Gerundio was pro-
hibited.
NOTE K.
A book entitled Memorias para la vida del Excmo.
Senor D. Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos, was published,
at Madrid, in 1814, by Cean Bermudez. This gentle-
man, whose uninterrupted intimacy from early youth
with the subject of his Memoirs enabled him to draw an
animated picture of one of the most interesting men that
Spain has produced in her decline, has, probably, from
the habits of reserve and false notions of decorum still
prevalent in that country, greatly disappointed our
hopes. What relates to Jovellanos himself is confined
to a few pages, containing little more than the dates of
events connected with his public life, some vague declama-
tion, and a few courtier-like innuendos on the great in-
trigues which, having raised him to the ministry, con-
fined him soon after to the fortress of Bellver. The
second part contains a catalogue, and a slight analysis of
his works. The friends of Jovellanos, however, are in-
debted to the author of the Memorias, for the help
which this collection of notes on the life of that truly
excellent and amiable man will afford any future writer
who, with more settled habits of freedom, and altogether
under more favourable circumstances, shall undertake to
draw the full-length picture of which we yet scarcely
possess a sketch.
For the satisfaction of such of our readers as ma' wish
NOTES. 481
to know the fate of Jovellanos, we subjoin a brief account
of the last years of his life.
Upon the accession of Ferdinand VII., Jovellanos was,
by a royal order, released from his confinement, and sub-
sequently elected a Member of the CentralJunta. When
the French entered Seville in 1810, and the Regency of
Cadiz superseded the Junta, he wished to retire to his
native place, Gijon, in Asturias.
The popular feeling, exasperated by national misfor-
tunes, was now venting itself against the abdicated Go-
vernment, to whose want of energy the advantages of the
French were indiscriminately attributed ; and Jovellanos,
accidentally detained in the Bay of Cadiz, had the morti-
fication of learning that he was involved in the absurd
and shameful suspicion of having shared in the spoil of
the Spanish treasury with which the Central Junta was
charged. A dignified appeal to the candour of the
nation, which he sent to the Cadiz papers for insertion,
was not permitted to see the light so narrow and illibe-
ral were the views of the Regency and the feeling and
high-minded Castilian had to sail under the intolerable
apprehension that some of his countrymen- might look
upon him as a felon endeavouring to abscond from jus-
tice.
If any one circumstance could add to the painfulness
of Jovellanos 1 situation, it was that, while the thought-
lessness or the ingratitude of his countrymen thus in-
volved him in a suspicion of peculation, the state of his
finances was such as to have obliged him to accept the
sum of little more than one hundred pounds, the savings
of many a year's service, which his trusty valet pressed
upon him, with tears, that he might defray the expenses
of their removal from Seville.
2 i
482 NOTES.
After being almost wrecked on the coast of Galicia,
Jovellanos was obliged to land at the small town of
Muros. Here he had to endure a fresh insult from the
petty Junta of that province, by whose orders his papers
were minutely searched, and copies taken at the option
of an officer sent for that purpose with a military
detachment.
A temporary retreat of the French from Gijon enabled
Jovellanos to revisit his native town ; but an unexpected
return of the invaders obliged him soon after to take
ship with the utmost precipitation. His flight was so
sudden that he was actually at sea without having deter-
mined upon a place of refuge. Had the venerable and
unhappy fugitive listened to the repeated invitations
which his intimate friend Lord Holland sent him after
the first appearance of danger from the progress of the
French, his life might have been prolonged under the
hospitable roof of Holland House. But Jovellanos 1 no-
tions of public duty were too exalted and romantic, and
he would not quit Spain while there was a single spot in
the possession of her patriots.
In attempting to reach by sea the port of Ribadeo,
where there lay a Spanish frigate, in which he hoped to
find a passage to Cadiz, another storm kept him for eight
days under the peculiar hardships of a dangerous navi-
gation in a small and crowded ship. Exhausted both in
body and mind, and with a heart almost broken from the
iil-treatment he had met with at the close of a long life
spent in the service of his country, he was landed at
Vega, where, the poverty of the town offering no better
accommodations, he was placed in the same room with
Valdes Llanos, an old friend and relation, who had
joined him in the flight, and seemed so shattered by age
NOTES. 483
and fatigue, as not to be able to survive (he effects of the
late storm. Here Jovellanos employed his remaining
strength in nursing and comforting his fellow-sufferer,
till, Valdes being near his end, his friend was, according
to the notions of the country, removed to another room.
But death had also laid his hand on Jovellanos, and he
was conveyed to the same grave only two days after.
Jovellanos had completed his sixty-sixth year.*
* In the Appendix No. 2. to Lord Holland's Life of Lope de
Vega are found both the originals and translations of some eloquent
passages from Jovellanos' pen, to which we have made an allusion
in this note. His portrait also, from a marble bust executed at
Seville by Don Angel Monasterio, at his lordship's desire, and now
in his possession, is prefixed to the second volume of the same
Work.
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