Before I bring forth the treasures of this hospitable convent, and the jewels of Neustra Senora, it may be necessary to tell you, that they could not be so liberal, were not others liberal to them; and that they have permission to ask charity from every church, city, and town, in the kingdoms of France and Spain, and have always lay-brothers out, gathering money and other donations. They who feed all who come, must, of course, be fed themselves; nor has any religious house in Europe (Loretto excepted) been more highly honoured by Emperors, Kings, Popes, and Prelates, than this: nay, they have seemed to vie with each other, in bestowing rich and costly garments, jewels of immense value, and gold and silver of exquisite workmanship, to adorn the person of Neustra Senora; as the following list, though not a quarter of her paraphernalia, will evince: but before I particularize them, it may be proper to mention, the solemn manner in which the Virgin was moved from the old to the new church, by the hands of King Philip the Third, who repaired thither for that purpose privately as possible, to prevent the prodigious concourse of people who would have attended him had it been generally known. He staid at the convent four days, in which time he visited all the hermitages above, in one; but returned, greatly fatigued, and not till ten o'clock at night. After resting himself the next day, he heard mass, and being confessed, assisted at the solemnity of translating the Virgin, in the following manner:—After all the monks, hermits, and lay-brothers had heard mass, and been confessed, the Virgin was brought down and placed upon the altar in the old church, and with great ceremony, reverence, and awe, they cloathed her in a rich gold mantle, the gift of the Duke of Branzvick, the sleeves of which were so costly, that they were valued at eighteen thousand ducats. The Abbots, Monks, hermits, &c. who were present, wore cloaks of rich gold brocade, and in the procession sung the hymn Te Deum Laudamus; one of whom bore a gold cross, of exquisite workmanship, which weighed fifty marks, and which was set with costly jewels. The procession consisted of forty-three lay-brothers, fifteen hermits, and sixty-two monks, all bearing wax-tapers; then followed the young scholars, and a band of music, as well as an infinite number of people who came from all parts of the kingdom to attend the solemnity; for it was impossible to keep an act of so extraordinary a nature very private. When the Virgin was brought into the new church, she was placed on a tabernacle by four of the most ancient monks; the King held also a large lighted taper, on which his banner and arms were emblazoned, and being followed by the nobles and cavaliers of his court, joined in the procession; and having placed themselves in proper order in the great cloyster of the church, the monks sung a hymn, addressed to the Virgin, accompanied by a noble band of music: this being over, the King taking the Virgin in his arms, placed her on the great altar; and having so done, took his wax taper, and falling on his knees at her feet, offered up his prayers near a quarter of an hour: this ceremony being over, the monks advanced to the altar, and moved the Virgin into a recess in the middle of it, where she now stands: after which, the Abbot, having given his pontifical benediction, the King retired to repose himself for a quarter of an hour, and then set off for Martorell, where he slept, and the next day made his entry into Barcelona.
Among an infinite number of costly materials which adorn this beautiful church, is a most noble organ, which has near twelve hundred pipes. In the Custodium you are shewn three crowns for the head of the Infant Jesus, two of which are of pure gold, the third of silver, gilt, and richly adorned with diamonds; one of the gold crowns is set with two hundred and thirty emeralds, and nineteen large brilliants; the other has two hundred and thirty-eight diamonds, an hundred and thirty pearls, and sixteen rubies; it cost eighteen thousand ducats.
There are four crowns also for the head of the Virgin; two of plated gold, richly set with diamonds, two of solid gold; one of which has two thousand five hundred large emeralds in it, and is valued at fifty thousand ducats; the fourth, and richest, is set with one thousand one hundred and twenty-four diamonds, five of which number are valued at five hundred ducats each; eighteen hundred large pearls, of equal size; thirty-eight large emeralds, twenty-one zaphirs, and five rubies; and at the top of this crown is a gold ship, adorned with diamonds of eighteen thousand dollars value. The gold alone of these crowns weighs twenty-five pounds, and, with the jewels and setting, upwards of fifty. These crowns have been made at Montserrat, from the gold and separate jewels presented to the convent from time to time by the crowned heads and princes of Europe. There is also another small crown, given by the Marquis de Aytona, set with sixty-six brilliants.
The Infanta gave four silver candlesticks, which cost two thousand four hundred ducats.
Ann of Austria, daughter to Philip the third, gave a garment for the Virgin, which cost a thousand ducats.
There are thirty chalices of gilt plate, and one of solid gold, which cost five thousand ducats.
Prince Charles of Austria, with his consort Christiana of Brunswick, visited Montserrat in the year 1706, and having kissed the Virgin's hand, left at her feet his gold-hilted sword, set with seventy-nine large brilliants. This sword was given the Emperor by Anne, Queen of England.
In the church are six silver candlesticks, nine palms high, made to hold wax flambeaux. There are diamonds and jewels, given by the Countess de Aranda, Count Alba, Duchess of Medina, and forty other people of high rank, from the different courts of Europe, to the value of more than an hundred thousand ducats.—But were I to recite every particular from the list of donations, which my friend, Pere Pascal, gave me, and which now lies before me, with the names of the donors, they would fill a volume instead of a letter.
I know you will expect to hear something of the Ladies of Spain; but I must confess I had very little acquaintance among them: when they appear abroad in their coaches, they are dressed in the modern French fashion, but not in the extreme; when they walk out, their head and shape is always covered with a black or white veil, richly laced; and however fine their gowns are, they must be covered with a very large black silk petticoat; and thus holding the fan in one hand, and hanging their chapelets over the wrist of the other, they walk out, preceded by one or two shabby-looking servants, called pages, who wear swords, and always walk bare-headed.
I have already told you, that the most beautiful, indeed the only beautiful woman, I saw at Barcelona, was the Intendant's daughter; and I assure you, her, black petticoat and white veil could not conceal it; nor, indeed, is the dress an unbecoming one. Among the peasants, and common females, you never see any thing like beauty, and, in general, rather deformity of feature. No wonder then, where beauty is scarce, and to be found only among women of condition, that those women are much admired, and that they gain prodigious influence over the men.—In no part of the world, therefore, are women more caressed and attended to, than in Spain. Their deportment in public is grave and modest; yet they are very much addicted to pleasure; nor is there scarce one among them that cannot, nay, that will not dance the Fandango in private, either in the decent or indecent manner. I have seen it danced both ways, by a pretty woman, than which nothing can be more immodestly agreeable; and I was shewn a young Lady at Barcelona, who in the midst of this dance ran out of the room, telling her partner, she could stand it no longer;—he ran after her, to be sure, and must be answerable for the consequences. I find in the music of the Fandango, written under one bar, Salida, which signifies going out; it is where the woman is to part a little from her partner, and to move slowly by herself; and I suppose it was at that bar the lady was so overcome, as to determine not to return. The words Perra Salida should therefore be placed at that bar, when the ladies dance it in the high gout.
The men dress as they do in France and England, except only their long cloak, which they do not care to give up. It is said that Frenchmen are wiser than, from the levity of their behaviour, they seem to be; and I fancy the Spaniards look wiser from their gravity of countenance, than they really are; they are extremely reserved; and make no professions of friendship till they feel it, and know the man, and then they are friendly in the highest degree.
I met with a German merchant at Barcelona, who told me he had dealt for goods to the value of five thousand pounds a year with a Spaniard in that town; and though he had been often at Barcelona before, that he had never invited him to dine or eat with him, till that day.
The farrier who comes to shoe your horse has sometimes a sword by his side; and the barber who shaves you crosses himself before he crosses your chin.
There is a particular part of the town where the ladies of easy virtue live; and if a friend calls at the apartment of one of those females, who happens to be engaged, one of her neighbours tells you, she is amancebados y casarse a mediacarta; i.e. that she is half-married.—If you meet a Spanish woman of any fashion, walking alone without the town, you may join her, and enter into whatever sort of conversation you chuse, without offence; and if you pass one without doing so, she will call you ajacaos, and contemn you: this is a custom so established at Madrid, that if a footman meets a lady of quality alone, he will enter into some indecent conversation with her; for which reason, the ladies seldom walk but with their husbands, or a male friend by their side, and a foot-boy before, and then no man durst speak, or even look towards them, but with respect and awe:—a blow in Spain can never be forgiven; the striker must die, either privately or publicly.
No people on earth are less given to excess in eating or drinking, than the Spaniards; the Olio, or Olla, a kind of soup and Bouilli, is all that is to be found at the table of some great men: the table of a Bourgeois of Paris is better served than many grandees of Spain; their chocolate, lemonade, iced water, fruits, &c. are their chief luxuries; and the chocolate is, in some houses, a prodigious annual expense, as it is offered to every body who comes in, and some of the first houses in Madrid expend twenty thousand livres a year in chocolate, iced waters, &c. The grandees of Spain think it beneath their dignity to look into accounts, and therefore leave the management of their household expenses to servants, who often plunder and defraud them of great sums of money.
Unlike the French, the Spaniards (like the English) very properly look upon able physicians and surgeons in a very respectable light:—Is it not strange, that the French nation should trust their health and lives in the hands of men, they are apt to think unworthy of their intimacy or friendship?—Men, who must have had a liberal education, and who ought not to be trusted in sickness, if their society was not to be coveted in health. Perhaps the Spanish physicians, who of all others have the least pretensions, are the most caressed. In fevers they encourage their patients to eat, thinking it necessary, where the air is so subtile, to put something into the body for the distemper to feed upon; they bleed often, and in both arms, that the blood may be drawn forth equally; the surgeons do not bleed, but a set of men called sangerros perform that office, and no other; the surgeons consider it dishonourable to perform that operation. They seldom trepan; a surgeon who attempted to perform it, would himself be perhaps in want of it. To all flesh wounds they apply a powder called coloradilla, which certainly effects the cure; it is made of myrrh, mastic, dragon's blood, bol ammoniac, &c.—When persons of fashion are bled, their friends send them, as soon as it is known, little presents to amuse them all that day; for which reason, the women of easy virtue are often bled, that their lovers may shew their attention, and be bled too.—The French disease is so ignorantly treated, or so little regarded, that it is very general; they consider a gonorrhoea as health to the reins; and except a tertian ague, all disorders are called the calentura, and treated alike, and I fear very injudiciously; for there is not, I am told, in the whole kingdom, any public academy for the instruction of young men, in physic, surgery, or anatomy, except at Madrid.
Notwithstanding the sobriety, temperance, and fine climate of Spain, the Spaniards do not, in general, live to any great age; they put a prodigious quantity of spice into every thing they eat; and though sobriety and temperance are very commendable, there are countries where eating and drinking are carried to a great excess, by men much more virtuous than those, where temperance, perhaps, is their principal virtue.
I forgot to tell you that, though I left the Convent, I had no desire to leave the spot where I had met with so cordial a reception; nor a mountain, every part of which afforded so many scenes of wonder and delight. I therefore hired two rooms at a wretched posada, near the two ancient towers below, and where I had left my horse, that I might make my daily excursions on and about the mountain, as well as visit those little solitary habitations above once more. My host, his wife, and their son and daughter, looked rather cool upon us; they liked our money better than our company; and though I made their young child some little presents, it scarce afforded any return, but prevented rudeness, perhaps. The boys of the village, though I distributed a little money every day to the poor, frequently pelted me with stones, when they gained the high ground of me; and I found it necessary, when I walked out, to take my fuzee. I would have made a friend of the priest, if I could have found him, but he never appeared!—It was a poor village, and you may easily conceive our residence in such a little place, where no stranger ever staid above an hour, occasioned much speculation. My servant too (a French deserter) had neither the politeness nor the address so common to his countrymen; but I knew I was within a few hours of honest Pere Pascal; and while the hog, mule, and ass of my host continued well, I flattered myself I was not in much danger; had either of those animals been ill, I should have taken my leave; for if a suspicion had arose that an heretic was under their roof, they would have been at no loss to account for the cause or the calamity which had, or might befall them.—During my residence at this little posada, I saw a gaudy-dressed, little, ugly old man, and a handsome young woman, approach it; the man smiled in my face, which was the only smile I had seen in the face of a stranger for a fortnight; he told me, what he need not, that he was a Frenchman, and a noble Advocate of Perpignan; that his name was Anglois, and that his ancestors were English; that he had walked on foot, with his maid, from Barcelona, in order to pay his devotions to the Holy Virgin of Montserrat, though he had his own chaise and mules at Barcelona: he seemed much fatigued, so I gave him some chocolate, for he was determined, he said, to get up to the convent that night. During this interview, he embraced me several times, professed a most affectionate regard for me and my whole family; and I felt enough for him, to desire he would fix the day of his return, that I might not be out upon my rambles, and that he would dine and spend the evening with me; in which case, I would send him back to Barcelona in my cabriolet; all which he chearfully consented to; and having lent him my couteau de chasse, as a more convenient weapon on ass-back than his fine sword, we parted, reluctantly, for five days; that was the time this noble Advocate had allotted for making his peace with the Holy Virgin;—I say, his peace with the Holy Virgin; for he was very desirous of leaving his virgin with us, as she was an excellent cook, and a most faithful and trusty servant, both which he perceived we wanted; yet in spite of his encomiums, there was nothing in the behaviour of the girl that corresponded with such an amiable character: she had, indeed a beautiful face, but strongly marked with something, more like impudence than boldness, and more of that of a pragmatic mistress than an humble servant; and therefore we did not accept, what I was very certain, she would not have performed. I impatiently, however, waited their return, and verily believed the old man had bought his crimson velvet breeches and gold-laced waistcoat in honour of the Virgin, and that his visit to her was a pious one.—He returned to his time, and to a sad dinner indeed! but it was the best we could provide. He had lost so much of that vivacity he went up with, that I began to fear I had lost his friendship, or he the benediction of the Holy Virgin. Indeed, I had lost it in some measure, but it was transferred but a little way off; for he took the first favourable occasion to tell my wife, no woman had ever before made so forcible an impression upon him, and said a thousand other fine things, which I cannot repeat, without losing the esteem I still have for my countryman; especially as he did not propose staying only one night with us, nay, that he would depart the next morning de bon matin. During the evening, all his former spirits returned, as well as his affection for me: he told me, he suspected I wanted money, and if that was the case, those wants should be removed; so taking out a large parcel of gold duras, he offered them, and I am persuaded too, he would have lent or given them to me. I arose early, to see that my man and chaise were got in good order, to conduct so good a friend to Barcelona; but not hearing any thing of Monsieur Anglois, I directed my servant to go into his chamber, to enquire how he did;—my man returned, and said, that Madame was awake, but that Monsieur still sleeps. Madame! what Madame? said I!—Is it the young woman who came with him? I then found, what I had a little suspected, that the mountain virgin was not the only virgin to whom Monsieur Anglois made his vows. He soon after, however, came down, drank chocolate with us, and making a thousand professions of inviolable regard, he set off in my chaise for Barcelona; but I should have told you, not till he had made me promise to visit him at Perpignan, where he had not only a town, but country house, at my service.—All these professions were made with so much openness, and seeming sincerity, that I could not, nor did doubt it; and as I was determined then to leave that unhospitable country, and return to France, I gave him my passa-porte, to get it refreshed by the Captain-General at Barcelona, that I might return, and pass by the walls only of a town I can never think of but with some degree of pain, and should with horror, but that I now know there is one man lives in it, and did then,[D] who has lamented that he had not an opportunity to shew me those acts of hospitality his nature and his situation often give him occasion to exercise; but the etiquette is, for the stranger to visit first; and I found but little encouragement to visit a German Gentleman, though married to an English Lady, after the hostile manners I had experienced from my friends and countrymen, Messrs. Curtoys, Wombwell, &c.
In the archives of Montserrat they shew you a letter written to the Abbe by King Philip the second, who begins, "venerable and devout Religieux," and tells him, he approves of his zeal, of his building a new church at Montserrat, charges him to continue his prayers for him, and, to shew his zeal for that holy house, informs him, that the bearer of his letter is Etienne Jordan, the most famous sculptor then in Spain, who is to make the new altar-piece at the King's expence, and they agreed to pay Jordan ten thousand crowns for the design he laid before them: the altar was made at Valladolid, and was brought to Montserrat on sixty-six waggons; and as Jordan did much more to the work than he had engaged to perform, the King gave him four thousand crowns over and above his agreement, and afterwards gave nine thousand crowns more, to gild and add further ornaments to it.
At the death of Philip the Second, his son, Philip, the Third, assisted in person to remove the image of the Virgin from the old to the new church; which I shall hereafter mention more fully. Before this noble altar, in which the figure of the Virgin stands in a nitch about the middle of it, are candlesticks of solid silver, each of which weighs eighty pounds; they are a yard and a half high; and yet these are mere trifles, when compared to the gold and jewels which are shewn occasionally.
The monks observe very religiously their statutes; nor is there a single hour in the day that you find the church evacuated.—I always heard at least two voices chanting the service, when the monks retire from the church, which is not till seven o'clock at night; the pilgrims continue there in prayer the greater part of the night.
I should have told you, that beside the superior among the hermits, there are two sorts of them, neither of which can possess a hermitage till they have spent seven years in the monastery, and given proofs of their holy disposition, by acts of obedience, humility, and mortification; during, which they spend most of their time, night as well as day, in the church, but they never sing or chant. After the expiration of the seven years, the Abbot takes the advice of his brethren, and if they think the probationer's manners and life entitle him to a solitary life above, he is sent,—but not, perhaps, without being enjoined to wait upon some old hermit, who is past doing the necessary offices of life for himself.—Their habit, as I said before, is brown, and they wear their long beards; but sometimes the hermits are admitted into holy orders, and then they wear black, and shave their beards: however, they are not actually fixed to the lonely habitations at first, but generally take seven or eight months trial. Many of the abbes, whose power, you may be sure, is very great, and who receive an homage from the inferiors, very flattering, have, nevertheless, often quitted their power for a retirement above. They observe religiously their abstinence from all sorts of flesh; nor are they permitted to eat but within their cells. When any of them are very ill, they are brought down to the convent; and all buried in one chapel, called St. Joseph.
The lay-brothers are about fourscore in number; they wear a brown habit, and are shaved; their duty is to distribute bread, wine, and other necessaries, to the poor and the pilgrims, and lodge them according to their condition: and many of them are sent into remote parts of the kingdom, as well as France and other Catholic countries, to collect charity; while those who continue at home assist in getting in their corn, and fetching provisions from the adjacent towns, for which purposes they keep a great number, upwards of fifty mules.—These men too have a superior among them, to whom they are all obedient.
There are also a number of children and young students, educated at the convent who are taken in at the age of seven or eight years, many of whom are of noble families; they all sleep in one apartment, but separate beds, where a lamp constantly burns, and their decent deportment is wonderful. Dom Jean de Cardonne, admiral of the galleys, who succoured Malta when it was besieged by the Turks, was bred at Montserrat, and when he wrote to the Abbe, "Recommend me," he said, "to the prayers of my little brethren."
As I have already told you of the miracle of a murdered and violated virgin coming to life, and of a child of three months old saying, Guerin, rise, thy sins are forgiven thee; perhaps you will not like to have further proofs of what miracles are wrought here, or I could give you a long list, and unanswerable arguments to prove them.
Frere Benoit d'Arragon was a hermit on this mountain, whose sanctity of life has made his name immortal in the hermitage of St. Croix. The following sketch of his life is engraven.
It appears, that Louis the Fourteenth, King of France, gave a certain sum to this convent, to say mass and pray for the soul of his deceased mother; the sum however was not large, being something under fifty pounds; and the donation is recorded in the chapel of St. Louis, upon a brass lamp.
P.S. The time that this wonderful mountain became the habitation of a religious community, may be pretty nearly ascertained by the following singular epitaph, on a beautiful monument, still legible in the great church of Tarragona.
"Hic quiescit Corpus sanctæ memoriæ Domini Joannis filii Domini Jacobi, Regis Arragonum, qui decimo septimo anno ætatis suæ factus Archiepiscopus Toletanus, sic dono scientiæ infusus Divinitus & gratia prædicationis floruit, quod nullus ejusdem ætatis in hoc ei similis crederetur. Carnem suam jejuniis & ciliciis macerans, in vigesimo octavo anno ætatis suæ factus Patriarcha Alexandrinus & Administrator Ecclesiæ Tarraconensis ordinato per eum, inter multa alia bona opera novo Monasterio sterio scalæ Dei Diacessis Tarraconensis, ut per ipsam scalam ad Coelum ascenderet reddidit spiritum Creatori XIV. kalendas Septembris, anno Domini MCCCXXXIV. anno vero ætatis suæ XXXIII. pro quo Deus tam in vita, quam post mortem ejusdem est multa miracula operatus."
This very young Bishop was the son of James the second, and his Queen Dona Blanca; and that he was Prior of the monastery of Montserrat, appears in their archives; for I find the names of several hermits of this mountain, that came down to pay homage to him.—Dederunt obedientiam domino Joanni Patriarchæ Alexandrino, & administratori prioratus Montis Serrati, &c.—It is therefore probable, that he was the first Prior, and that the convent was built about the year 1300; but that the mountain was inhabited by hermits, or men who retired from the world many ages before, cannot be doubted.
Dear Sir,
I have had (since I mentioned the Spanish Ladies in a former letter) an opportunity of seeing something more of them; what they may be at Madrid, I cannot take upon me to say; but I am inclined to believe, that notwithstanding what you have heard of Spanish beauty, you would find nature has not been over liberal as to the persons of either sex in Spain; and though tolerable good features upon a brown complexion, with very black hair finely combed and pinned up with two or three gold bodkins, may be very pleasing, as a new object, yet a great deficiency would appear, were you to see the same women dressed in the high fashion of England or France. England, for real and natural female beauty, perhaps surpasses all the world; France, for dress, elegance, and ease. The Spanish women are violent in their passions, and generally govern every body under their roof; husbands who contend that point with them, often finish their days in the middle of a street, or in a prison; on the other hand, I am told, they are very liberal, compassionate, and charitable. They have at Barcelona a fine theatre, and tolerable good music; but the actors of both sexes are execrable beyond all imagination: their first woman, who they say is rich by means of one talent or other, (for me, like my little Lyons water girl, has two talents) is as contemptible in her person as in her theatrical abilities: it is no wonder, indeed; for these people are often taken from some of those gipsey troops, I mentioned in a former letter, and have, consequently, no other qualifications for the stage but impudence instead of confidence, and ignorance instead of a liberal education. Perhaps you will conclude, that the theatre at Madrid affords much better entertainment; on the contrary, I am well assured it is in general much worse: a Gentleman who understands the language perfectly, who went to Madrid with no other view but to gratify his curiosity, in seeing what was worthy of notice there, went only once to the theatre, where the heat of the house, and the wretchedness of the performance, were equally intolerable; nor are the subjects very inviting to a stranger, as they often perform what they call "Autos Sacramentales"—sacramental representations. The people of fashion, in general, have no idea of serving their tables with elegance, or eating delicately; but rather, in the stile of our fore-fathers, without spoon or fork, they use their own fingers, and give drink from the glass of others; foul their napkins and cloaths exceedingly, and are served at table by servants who are dirty, and often very offensive. I was admitted, by accident, to a Gentleman's house, of large fortune, while they were at dinner; there were seven persons at a round table, too small for five; two of the company were visitors; yet neither their dinner was so good, nor their manner of eating it so delicate, as may be seen in the kitchen of a London tradesman. The dessert (in a country where fruit is so fine and so plenty) was only a large dish of the seeds of pomegranates, which they eat with wine and sugar. In truth, Sir, an Englishman who has been in the least accustomed to eat at genteel tables, is, of all other men, least qualified to travel into either kingdoms, and particularly into Spain; especially, if what Swift says be true, that "a nice man is a man of dirty ideas,"—I know not the reason, whether it proceeds from climate, or food, or from the neglect of the poorer order of the people; but head combing seems to be a principal part of the day's business among the women in Spain; and it is generally done rather publicly.—The most lively, chearful, neat young woman, I saw in Spain, lived in the same house I did at Barcelona; she had a good complexion, and, what is very uncommon, rather light hair; and though perfectly clean and neat in her apparel, yet I observed a woman, not belonging to the house, attended every morning to comb this girl's head, and I believe it was necessary to be combed. I could not very well ask the question; but I suspect that there are people by profession called headcombers; every shop door almost furnishes you with a specimen of that business; and if it is so common in Barcelona, among a rich and industrious people, you may imagine, it is infinitely more so among the slothful part of the inland cities and smaller towns;—but this is not the only objection a stranger (and especially an English Protestant) will find to Spain; the common people do not look upon an Englishman as a Christian; and the life of a man, not a Christian, is of no more importance in their eyes than the life of a dog: it is not therefore safe for a protestant to trust himself far from the maritime cities, as an hundred unforeseen incidents may arise, among people so ignorant and superstitious, to render it very unsafe to a man known to be a Protestant. If it be asked, how the Consuls, English merchants, &c. escape?—I can give no other reason than what a Spaniard gave me, when I put that question to him:—"Sir," said he, "we have men here, (meaning Barcelona) who are Protestants all day, and Papists all night; and we have a chapel where they go, into which no other people are admitted." However, I was convinced, before I went into Spain this time, from what I remembered formerly, that it was necessary to appear a good Catholic; so that I always carried a little crucifix, or two, some beads, and other accidental marks of my faith; and where I staid any time, or, indeed, where I slept upon the road, I took occasion to let some of those powerful protectors be seen, as it were, by chance;—it is very necessary to avail one's self of such innocent frauds, in a country where innocence itself may not be sufficient to shield you from the fury of religious bigotry, where people think they are serving God, by destroying men: The best method to save yourself, is by serving God in the same manner they do, till you are out of their power. I really thought, that Philosophy and Reason entered into Spain at the same gate that the Jesuits were turned out of the kingdom; and, I suppose, some did; but it must be many years before it is sufficiently diffused over the whole nation, to render it a country like France; where men, who behave with decency and decorum, may live, or pass through, without the least apprehension or inconvenience on the score of religion; if they do not meddle with politics or fortifications.
That you may not imagine my suspicions of the danger of passing thro' Spain are ill founded, I will relate what happened to two English Gentlemen of fashion at Marcia as I had it from the mouth of one of them lately:—they had procured letters of recommendation from some friends to the Alguazile, or chief magistrate of that town; and as there were some unfavourable appearances at their first entering Marcia, and more so at their posada, they thought it right to send their letters directly to the Alguazile; who, instead of asking them to his house, or visiting them, sent a servant to say he was ill, and who was directed to invite them to go that night to the comedy: they thought it right, however, to accept the invitation, extraordinary as it was: the Alguazile's servant conducted them to the theatre, and paid (for he was directed so to do, he said) for their admittance; and having conducted his strangers into the pit, he retired. The comedy was then begun; but, nevertheless, the eyes of the whole house were turned upon them, and their's, to their great astonishment, upon the sick Alguazile with his whole family. Those near whom they at first stood, retired to some distance: they could not, he said, consider the manner in which they were looked at, and retired from, but to arise from disgust or dislike, more than from curiosity. This reception, and the manner in which they had been sent there, deprived them of all the amusement the house afforded; for though the performers had no great excellence, there was, among the female part of the audience, more beauty than they expected. Mr. B——, one of the Gentlemen, at length discovered near him in the pit a man whom he knew to be an Irishman, and in whole countenance he plainly perceived a desire to speak, but he seemed with-held by prudence. At length, however, he was got near enough to his countryman to hear him say, without appearing to address himself to any body, "Go hence! go hence!" They did so; and the next morning, tho' it was a fine town, which they wished to examine, and to spend some time in, set off early for Carthagena, where they had some particular friends, to whom they related the Alguazile's very extraordinary behaviour, as well as that of the company at the theatre. It was near the time of the Carnival at Carthagena: the conduct of Don Marco to the two gentlemen strangers, became the subject of conversation, and indeed of indignation, among the Spaniards of that civilized city; and the Alguazile, who came to the Carnival there soon after, died by the hands of an assassin; he was stabbed by a mask in the night. Now suppose this man lost his life at Carthagena, for his ill behaviour to the two strangers at Marcia, or for any other cause, it is very certain, if natives are so liable to assassination, strangers are not more secure.
P.S. To give you some idea of the address of the pulpit oratory in Spain, about sixty or seventy years ago, (and it is not in general much better at present) take the following specimen, which I assure you, is strictly true:—
A preacher holding forth in the place called Las Mancanas at Madrid, after informing his auditors of the sufferings of Jesus Christ, added,—and is it not strange, that we still continue to sin on, and live without repentance? O Lord God! said he, why sufferest thou such ungrateful and wretched sinners to live?—And instantly giving himself a violent box on the ear, the whole assembly followed his example, and four thousand soufflets were given and received in the twinkling of an eye.—The French Embassador, from whose memoires I take this story, was upon that instant bursting out in laughter at the pious ceremony, had he not been checked by one of his friends, who happened to stand near, and who assured him, that his rank and character would not have saved him, had he been so indiscreet, for the enraged populace would have cut him in a thousand pieces; whereupon he hid his face in his handkerchief, and boxed his own ears more for the love of himself than from gratitude to his Redeemer.
There are in Spain twelve councils of state, viz. of War, of Castile, of the Inquisition, of the royal orders of St. Iago, of Arragon, of the Indies, of the chamber of Castile, of the Croisade, of the State, of Italy, of the Finances and Treasure, and lastly, that (of no use) of Flanders.
The council of War is composed of experienced men of various orders, who are thought capable of advising upon that subject, and not of any determinate number.
That of Castile has a president and sixteen other members, beside a secretary and inferior officers; it is the first of all the councils, and takes cognizance of civil as well as criminal matters. The King calls this council only Our council, to mark its superiority to all others. The president is a man of great authority, and is treated with the utmost respect; nor does he ever visit any body.
The council of the Inquisition, established by Don Fernando in 1483, has an inquisitor general for its president, who is always a Grandee of the first condition; he has six counsellors, who are called apostolic inquisitors. This court, (the power of which has, fortunately for mankind, been of late years greatly abridged) has a great number of inferior officers, as well as holy spies, all over the kingdom, particularly at Seville, Toledo, Valladolid, Barcelona, and other places, where these horrid tribunals are fixed; each is governed by three counsellors, who, however, are dependant on that of Madrid; and to whom they are obliged every month to give a particular account of what has passed through their hands. These men have not power to imprison a priest, a religious, nor even a gentleman, without obtaining the consent of the supreme court above; they meet at Madrid twice every day, and two of the King's council always attend at the afternoon meeting.
Of the council of the three royal orders of Spain; that of Santiago is the first; the other two are Calatrava and Alcantara. It is composed of a president, six counsellors, and other officers.
The president of the council of Arragon is called the vice chancellor; who is assisted by nine counsellors, and inferior officers. This council attend to the public state of the kingdom of Arragon, as well as to the islands of Majorca, Ivica, &c.
The council of the Indies was established in 1511, for the conservation and augmentation of the new kingdoms discovered by Columbus in South America, in 1492; and where the Spaniards have at this time four thousand nine hundred leagues of land, including Mexico and Peru; land divided into many kingdoms and provinces, in which they had built, in the year 1670, upwards of eight thousand churches, and more than a thousand convents. They have there a patriarch, six arch-bishops, and thirty-two bishops, and three tribunals of the inquisition. This council is composed of a president, a grand chancellor, and twelve counsellors, a treasurer, secretary, advocates, agents, and an infinite number of inferior officers. They meet twice a week, to regulate all the affairs, both by land and sea, relative to that part of the King's dominions.
The council of the Croisade is composed of a president, who is called the commissary general, and who has great privileges. The clergy are obliged to pay something annually to it; and if any one finds a purse of money in the streets, they are obliged to deliver it to the secretary of this council.
The council of State is composed of men of the first birth and understanding about the court. The King presides, and is assisted by the archbishop of Toledo. This council is not confined to any certain number; they meet three times a week, to deliberate on the most important affairs of the kingdom.
The council of Italy attends to the affairs of Naples, Sicily, and Milan; it is composed of a president, and six counsellors, three of whom are Spaniards, one Neapolitan, one Italian, and one Sicilian; each of which have their separate charge on the affairs of those countries.
The council of Finances and Treasure is composed of a president, who is called presidente de hazienda, that is, superintendant of the finances; eight counsellors, and a great number of other officers, beside treasurers, controllers, &c., who have a great share of the most important affairs of the nation to regulate; they hear causes, and are not only entrusted with the treasures of the kingdom, but with administration of justice to all the king's subjects. You may easily judge what a number of officers compose this council, when I tell you, that they have twenty-six treasurers.
The council of Flanders have now only the name; as the King of England bears that of France.—The formal manner which men, high in office or blood, observe in paying or receiving visits, is very singular: the inquisitor-general, for instance, has several black lines marked upon the floor of his anti-chamber, by which he limits the civilities he is to shew to men, according to the rank or office they bear: he has his black marks for an embassador, an envoy, &c. When people of condition at Madrid propose to make a visit, it is previously announced by a page, to know the day and hour they can be received; and this ceremony is often used on ordinary visits, as well as those of a more public nature: the page too has his coach to carry him upon these errands. I have seen the account of a visit made by the Cardinal of Arragon to the Admiral of Castile, the train of which filled the whole street; he was carried by six servants in a magnificent chair, and followed by his body coach drawn by eight mules, attended by his gentlemen, pages, esquires, all mounted on horseback, and arrayed in a most sumptuous manner. Every order of men assume an air of importance in Spain. I have been assured, that when a shoemaker has been called upon to make a pair of shoes, he would not undertake the work till he had first enquired of Dona, his wife, whether there was any money in the house? if she answered in the affirmative, he would not work. Even the beggars do not give up this universal privilege, as the following instance will evince:—A foreigner of fashion, who was reading in a bookseller's shop in Madrid, was accosted by one of the town beggars, who in an arrogant manner asked his charity, in terms which implied a demand rather than a favour. The stranger made no reply, nor did he take the least notice, but determined to continue reading, and dismiss the insolent beggar by his silent contempt: this encreased the beggar's hardiness; he told him, he might find time enough to read after he had attended to his request, and what he had to say. But still the gentleman read on, and disregarded his rudeness. At length, the beggar stept up to him, and with an air of the utmost insolence, at the same time taking him hold by the arm, added, What! neither charity, nor courtesy? By this time, the stranger lost all patience, and was going to correct him for his temerity:—Stop, Sir, (said the beggar, in a lower tone of voice) hear me;—pardon, me, Sir; do you not know me? No, certainly; replied the stranger, But, said he, you ought, for I was secretary to an embassy in a certain capital, where we lived together in intimacy; and then told him his name, and the particular misfortunes which had reduced him to that condition; he expressed himself with art, address, and eloquence, and succeeded in getting money from the gentleman, though he could not convince him that he was his old acquaintance.
There are in Spain an infinite number of such sort of beggars, who are men of sense and letters, and so au fait in the art, that they will not be denied. The grand secret of the art of begging is in perseverance; and all the well-bred part of beggars do not despair, though they have ten refusals. But the worst sort of beggars in Spain, are the troops of male and female gipsies: these are the genuine breed, and differ widely from all other human beings. In Spain I often met troops of these people; and when that interview happens in roads very distant from towns or dwellings, the interview is not very pleasing; for they ask as if they knew they were not to be refused; and, I dare say, often commit murders, when they can do it by surprize. Whenever I saw any of these people at a distance, I walked with a gun in my hand, and near to the side of my chaise, where there were pistols visible; and by shewing them I was not afraid, or, at least, making them believe so, they became afraid of us. They are extremely swarthy, with hair as black as jet; and form a very picturesque scene under the shade of those rocks and trees, where they spend their evenings; and live in a manner by no means disagreeable, in a climate so suitable to that style, where bread, water, and idleness is certainly preferable to better fare and hard labour. It is owing to this universal idleness that the roads, the inns, and every thing, but what is absolutely necessary, is neglected; yet, bad as the roads are, they are better than the posada, or inns. El salir de la posada, es la mejor jornada,—"the best part of the journey, say the Spaniards, is the getting out of the posada." For as neither king nor people are at much expence to make or mend the high ways, except just about the capital cities, they are dry or wet, rough or smooth, steep or rugged, just as the weather or the soil happens to favour or befoul them.—Now, here is a riddle for your son; I know he is an adept, and will soon overtake me.