Ferrol, 12 December, 1779.
The French consul had agreed to carry me, Mr. Dana, Mr. Allen, and my
three children and our three servants, this day to Corunna, which is
about five leagues from this place, by water, in a barge of fourteen
oars, but the weather proved so boisterous that it was impossible to go.
To give you some idea of the place where we are, Cape Finisterre and
Cape Ortegal are two long arms of land stretched out into the sea, which
embrace a large body of water. Within this bay are two other points of
land, within one of which is Ferrol, where we now are, and within the
other is Corunna, where we intended to have gone this day, if the
weather had permitted; but we hope to go to-morrow. We can get neither
horses nor mules nor carriages, in this place, for ourselves or our
baggage, which I am much surprised at, as it is so grand a port. Living
and conveniences for conveyance are very dear in this place, which will
run my expenses very high. There is nothing remarkable here but the
natural strength of the place and the artificial fortifications,
together with the arsenals, dry docks, barracks, and military matters by
sea and land. The city is small, not very well built nor accommodated.
Very little commerce or manufactures, industry or diversions. There are
two or three elegant Churches, and there is an Italian opera. There is
the appearance of much devotion, and there are many ecclesiastics.
It is dull enough to be in a country, so wholly ignorant of the
language and usages; but we have furnished ourselves with a dictionary
and grammar, and are learning every hour. Charles is much pleased with
what he sees and hears, and behaves very discreetly. John is writing to
you and his sister and brother. I excused myself from dining to-day on
board the _Souverain_ and on board the _Jason_, two French men-of-war.
Yesterday I dined on board the _Triomphant_, and the children on board
the _Jason_. The French officers appear to-day with cockades in honor of
the triple alliance---a large white ribbon for the French, a smaller red
one for the Spaniards, and a black one for the Americans, which makes a
pretty appearance.
Upon looking a little into the Spanish language, I find it so very
nearly like the Latin that I am persuaded we shall learn more of it in a
month than we did of French in half a year. The manners of the Spaniards
and French are as opposite as grave and gay. The dress of the Spanish
officers is much like the French. That of the people a little different.
Men and women, gentlemen and ladies, are very fond of long hair, which
often reaches, braided in a queue or bound round with a black ribbon,
almost to their hams. The ladies wear cloaks, black or white, which come
over their heads and shoulders and reach down to their waists. They have
fine black eyes, and consequently dark but yet lively complexions.
When, oh when shall I see you again, and live in peace?
The Russian ambassador lately appointed to relieve the one lately in
London, passed through France and was a fortnight or three weeks at
Paris, from whence the shrewd politicians have conjectured that peace
was about to be mediated by that power. But it is said that England is
as reluctant to acknowledge the independence of America as to cede
Gibraltar, the last of which is insisted upon as well as the first. But
this is only bruit. Adieu.