TOLEDO.
Journey from Madrid; Proofs of the backwardness of Spain;
Appearance of the Country; Spanish Mule-driving; a Venta; First
View of Toledo; Toledo Recreations and Society; Remains of Former
Grandeur, and Proofs of Present Decay; Picturesque Views; the
Tagus; Intricacy of Toledo; Bigotry and Priestcraft; Reasons for
the Prevalence of Religious Bigotry in Toledo; Proofs of Bigotry;
Aspect of the Population; the Cathedral and its Riches; Scene in
the Cathedral; the Alcazar; Historical Retrospect; Praiseworthy
Institutions of the Archbishop Lorenzana; the University; Toledo
Sword Manufactory; the Franciscan Convent; Return to Madrid.
A few weeks before I visited Toledo, a public conveyance had been for
the first time established between that city and the capital. This
conveyance left Madrid every alternate day, and partook of the double
nature of a waggon, and of a diligence: externally, it was a waggon;
but seats within, and glass windows, entitled it to the rank of a
diligence. I took my place in this vehicle, at four in the morning,
after having stumbled over more than one person lying asleep on the
pavement, in groping my way through the streets from my lodgings to the
waggon office.
It is a striking commentary upon the backward state of Spain, and the
general want of enterprise that distinguishes both the government and
the people, that there should be no road from the capital, to the
largest city lying within a hundred miles of it--the ancient metropolis
of Spain; and yet such is the fact: for although the conveyance I speak
of makes its way from Madrid to Toledo, a distance of nearly sixty
miles, in about fifteen hours, it travels over any thing but a road,
with the exception of the first ten miles from Madrid: after this, there
is sometimes a visible track, and sometimes none; most commonly, we
passed over wide sands; at other times over ploughed fields, or meadows;
and it was not until we arrived within half a league of Toledo, that we
again found a road.
The country between Madrid and Toledo, I need scarcely say, is ill
peopled and ill cultivated; for it is all a part of the same arid plain
that stretches on every side around the capital; and which is bounded on
this side, by the Tagus. The whole of the way to Toledo, I passed
through only four inconsiderable villages; and saw two others at a
distance. A great part of the land is uncultivated, covered with furze
and aromatic plants; but here and there some corn land is to be seen,
and I noticed one or two ploughs in the fields; these were worked by two
mules and one man, and seemed only to scratch the soil. The great curse
of every part of Castile, is want of water; in this journey of sixty
miles, I passed only two insignificant brooks,--so very insignificant,
that a child might have dammed up either of them in a few minutes with
stones and sand: in fact, from the Douro to the Tagus, there is not a
stream ancle deep, unless when swoln by sudden floods.
I was much amused in this journey, by the manner of driving our
diligence. We had seven excellent mules, which carried us the whole
way; and these were managed in the true Spanish mode, which does not
admit of postilions. Two men sit in front; one always keeps his place,
holding the reins, and guiding the two nearest mules; the other leaps
from his seat every few minutes, runs alongside the mules, applies two
or three lashes to each, gets them into a gallop, and as they pass by,
he lays hold of the tail of the hindermost mule, and whisks into his
place, where he remains until the laziness of the mules, or a piece of
level ground, again calls him into activity. The sagacity of the mules
struck me as most extraordinary; after being put into a gallop, the
three front mules were left entirely to themselves; and yet they
unerringly discovered the best track; avoided the greatest inequalities;
and made their turnings with the utmost precision.
We stopped some time before mid-day at a venta, to refresh the mules,
the muleteers, and the travellers; who, besides myself, consisted of
three priests and one woman, the wife of a tradesman in Toledo. This was
one of those ventas of which I had often heard, but had not yet
seen--where, in reply to the question, “what have you got to eat?” you
are answered, “whatever you have brought with you.” For my part, I had
brought nothing; but the _clerigos_ had provided well against the
assaults of the flesh; and a cold stew of various fowls and bacon being
produced by them, and heated by the mistress of the venta, we made a
hearty and comfortable dinner; and then continued our journey.
Toledo is seen about a league before reaching it; and, with the
exception of Granada, its situation is the most striking of any city in
Spain. Its fine irregular line of buildings cover the summit and the
upper part of a hill of considerable elevation; behind which, the dark
romantic range of the Toledo mountains forms a majestic back-ground.
Even at this distance, Toledo is evidently no city of yesterday; for
besides the innumerable towers of its convents, churches, and stupendous
cathedral--the metropolitan of Spain--the outline is broken by other
buildings of a more grotesque, or more massive form; while here and
there, the still greater irregularity of the outline points to ages too
remote, to have left to modern times any other legacy than their ruins.
Toledo was still illuminated by the setting sun when I caught the first
view of it; but before arriving under its walls, all was dusky,
excepting the summits of the mountains behind; these still wore the
purple light of evening; and the meanderings of the Tagus, flowing
westward, were also visible beneath those bright orange tints that are
peculiar to Spanish skies.
I had no sooner secured a bed in the posada, than I went to deliver my
letters; these were, one to a gentleman, an employée, holding a
situation in the finance; the other to a prebendary, librarian of the
cathedral. I was received with the greatest civility by both; and after
taking chocolate with the former, I accompanied him to the castle, to be
present at what was considered quite an event in Toledo: this chanced to
be the king’s birthday; and in honour of it, the band of royalist
volunteers paraded the principal streets by torch light; and so
monotonous a thing is life in Toledo, that this occurrence produced
quite a sensation. It was scarcely possible to force one’s way through
the narrow streets, which were filled with a dense mass of people,
almost entirely men; for the ancient Spanish customs still attach to
Toledo too much, to sanction there the liberty which foreign usage has
conferred upon the women in most of the other Spanish towns.
I must not omit a trifling fact, that throws some light upon the state
of feeling in Toledo. I had purchased a grey hat in Paris, and had worn
it constantly in Spain; and although I had heard in Madrid that the
wearers of white hats were looked upon with suspicion, I had never
suffered any interruption or insult in consequence, excepting now and
then a scrutinizing look from some royalist volunteer or police agent.
But the gentleman to whom I was recommended in Toledo, would not permit
me to go into the street in a grey hat; he said he could not answer for
my safety; and while I remained in Toledo, he was so kind as to equip me
with a small round, high-crowned hat, almost the only kind worn by its
inhabitants.
The same evening that I arrived in Toledo, I was presented at a
tertulia, which is the sole recreation of the inhabitants; for there is
no public diversion of any kind: formerly there was a theatre; but the
canon, who was then at the head of the university, obtained a royal
order to suppress it, and it has remained closed ever since. Bull-fights
even are forbidden in this priest-ridden city; so that unless
processions of Saints and Virgins are to be considered an amusement, the
inhabitants have positively no resource but in the tertulia. Nowhere are
Spanish customs seen more pure than in Toledo; and nowhere is the
monotony of the tertulia more striking. The party assembled about
nine,--there were fifteen persons present, about one half of them
ladies. The sole amusement was talking, and some of the party playing
_basto_ for a very low stake; and after a glass of _agua fresca_, the
party separated about eleven. In Toledo a certain circle agrees to form
a tertulia: one house is selected, where it is to be held,--the most
central, perhaps, or the most convenient; and the same individuals
assemble at the same house, and at the same hour, every day throughout
the year! This is Toledo society.
The morning after my arrival in Toledo, I rose early, anxious to see
this ancient and truly Spanish city; and crossing the _Plaza Real_,
which, at the early hour of six, resounded with the ringing of the
blacksmith’s hammers, whose shops half monopolise the square, I followed
the widest street that presented itself; and after a steep descent, I
found myself at the eastern extremity of the town, and on the bridge
over the Tagus. It is impossible to walk a step in Toledo, or to turn
the eye in any direction, without perceiving the remains of former
grandeur, and the proofs of present decay: ruins are every where
seen,--some, the vestiges of empires past away, and whose remains are
crumbling into nothingness,--the empires of Carthage and of Rome: other
vestiges,--those of an empire equally fallen, but more visible, in the
greater perfection of its monuments,--the Empire of the Moors: and still
another class of ruins,--those more recent emblems that record the decay
of the Spanish monarchy through the lapse of a hundred and fifty years.
Past magnificence and present poverty are every where written in a
hundred forms, and in legible characters. But all this, although
offering to the reflecting mind an impressive example of the “sic
transit gloria mundi,” gives to Toledo much of its peculiar interest in
the eye of a stranger; and adds to the picturesque and striking
character of the views presented from every quarter. Few of these are
finer than the view of this remarkable city and its environs, from the
bridge over the Tagus, where my morning walk conducted me.
The Alcazar, that immense pile, once the residence of Moors, and
subsequently of the kings of Spain, forms one corner of the city. The
irregular and picturesque line of buildings, at least one half of them
convents, each with its tower, and terrace, and hanging garden,
stretches along the summit of the hill, towards the West; while strewing
the sides of the steep acclivity, and mingled with the convent gardens,
are seen the remains of the Roman walls that once entirely inclosed the
city, and that even yet, are in many places nearly perfect. Withdrawing
the eye from Toledo, and looking across the bridge, an elevated rocky
mount presents itself, crowned with the ruins of a Moorish castle; and
leaning on the parapet, and looking towards the South, the river is
seen far below, flowing in a deep rocky channel, one of its banks being
the hill upon which the city stands,--and the other, the North front of
the Toledo mountains. The peculiar situation of Toledo is best
understood from this point. The river Tagus, coming from the westward,
flows directly towards the north-east corner of the city; and in place
of continuing to flow in the same direction--by which it would leave the
city and its hill upon the left,--it makes a sudden turn, sweeps behind
the city and its hill, and in front of the Toledo mountains,--and after
describing three parts of a circle, it re-appears at the opposite
corner, and continues its course towards the west. The course of the
Tagus is singular; the Sierra de Albarracin, where it rises, is no more
than eighty miles from the Mediterranean, in a straight line across
Valencia; but the Tagus, taking an opposite direction, runs a course of
nearly six hundred miles to the Atlantic,--traversing the interior of
Spain, passing into Portugal, and forming the glory and the riches of
its capital. It would be no difficult matter, to render the Tagus
navigable from Toledo to the sea, a distance of between four and five
hundred miles; the passage was attempted in the winter of 1829, by a
boat from Toledo, and succeeded, the boat having arrived safely at
Lisbon; but this could not have been done at any other season; because
in dry weather, the water is in many places almost wholly diverted from
its natural channel, for the use of the mills that have been erected
upon its banks.
I endeavoured to find my way from the bridge to the posada by a
different road,--but this was an attempt of some difficulty. I believe
there is no town in Europe in which it is so difficult to find ones way,
as in Toledo: the streets are innumerable; few of them are more than
three yards wide; they are steep, tortuous and short, constantly
branching off at acute angles, so that all idea of direction is soon
lost; and there are no open spaces from which some prominent object may
be taken as a guide. A gentleman who had resided fourteen years in
Toledo, told me that he was not acquainted with half of the streets; and
that it was no unusual occurrence to lose himself, in endeavouring to
find near cuts from one place to another. Although I arrived at the
posada two hours later than I expected, I had nothing to regret in the
delay; my mistakes having carried me through parts of the town which I
might not otherwise have had an opportunity of seeing.
Walking through Toledo, there is a subject of more melancholy reflection
than that which arises from the vestiges of former greatness; I mean,
the abundant proofs of bigotry and ignorance that are gathered at every
step. There is no city of Spain so entirely given up to the domination
of the priests and friars, as Toledo; because there is no other city in
which these form so large a portion of the population, or where the
riches of the religious bodies are so preponderating. Toledo, it is
believed, once contained 200,000 inhabitants; forty or fifty years ago,
it contained, according to the writers of those days, about 30,000; at
this day, its inhabitants do not exceed 16 or 17,000; but throughout
this progressive decay, the convents and churches, the priests and
friars, have continued undiminished: the cathedral is still served by
its forty canons, and fifty prebendaries, and fifty chaplains; the
thirty-eight parish churches and chapels, have still their curates, and
their assistants, and their many dependents; and the thirty-six convents
and monasteries, have yet their compliment of friars and nuns. The
revenues, indeed, of all these religious bodies, have suffered some
diminution during the last fifty years; but this diminution has been
nothing in comparison with the decrease in the resources of all the
other classes of inhabitants. The revenues of the archbishop amounted
fifty years ago, to seven millions of reals, (70,000_l._ sterling); at
present they do not exceed four millions of reals, (40,000_l._
sterling): the incomes of the canons amounted, at the former period, to
at least eighty thousand reals (or 800_l._ sterling); now, they scarcely
reach one half of this sum: all these diminutions are the result of the
fall in the price of corn, in which their revenues are computed. But the
incomes of the curates of the parishes are still more reduced, many of
the parishes having entirely fallen into decay: there are some, in which
there are not now twenty inhabited houses; so that the curates of these,
are in a state of absolute destitution. The revenues of the convents
have of course suffered a diminution proportionate to that which has
affected the church. But notwithstanding this decrease in the revenues
of the religious bodies, these are still sufficiently great, to create
an overwhelming interest in a city whose inhabitants scarcely quadruple
the number of those who live by these revenues. In fact the whole city,
with the exception of the government employées, lives by these revenues.
Many are directly benefited by their collection, their management, and
by the husbandry of the land that produces them; while their
disbursement must necessarily benefit every class of men who administer
either to the necessities, or the luxuries of life. But besides the
effect which self-interest has in supporting the influence of
priestcraft in Toledo, other reasons may be assigned for its
preponderance.
The geographical position of Toledo is highly favourable to the success
of this jugglery; for, with sufficient resources in the territory that
lies along the Tagus, and with no passable road or navigation of any
kind to other towns, the inhabitants have scarcely any intercourse with
strangers,--none whatever with foreigners. The immense number of
priests and friars, also, who may all be considered spies upon the lives
of the inhabitants; and the great and secret influence of the
archbishop, cannot fail to act as obstacles to the progress of
information, both by reading and conversation: and, indeed, there is in
Toledo a species of religious _espionnage_, which is, in fact, a remnant
of the Inquisition: certain friars call every Monday morning, at every
house, to receive the certificates of confession which have been given
to the inmates, if they have confessed the day before. And I must not
omit to mention, as another cause of the preponderance of priestly
influence in Toledo, the greater correctness exhibited in the lives of
the religious orders in this city, than in the other cities of Spain;
and the larger alms given by the convents. With the exception of some
whispers respecting the canons and prebendaries, who were said to be
remarkable for the number of infant nephews, nieces, and cousins, whom
they had humanely taken under their fatherly protection, I heard not one
insinuation against any other of the religious orders.
The great respect, or rather veneration, in which the religious
bodies,--especially the friars,--are held in Toledo, as well as many
other proofs of the bigotry of the inhabitants, are every where visible.
A Franciscan friar, or any monk belonging to one of the poor and
self-denying orders, receives some obeisance from every one, as he
passes along the street; even the portly canon or prebendary, who bears
about with him the evidences of self-indulgence in place of self-denial,
receives some token of respect: every shop is provided with a saint in a
niche, to bless its gains; and upon every second or third door, a paper
is seen with these words printed upon it,--_Maria Santa Purissima, sin
Pecado concebida_. In the respect too which is paid by the inhabitants
to religious processions, abundant proof is afforded of the superstition
that still clings to the people of Toledo. I happened to be in the
neighbourhood of the Carmelite convent when the procession of St.
Theresa issued from it. This is the patron saint of the convent, and her
image was carried through the streets, followed by a multitude of
friars: it is considered a mark of devotion, to carry a lighted candle
upon such occasions; and I noticed many persons bearing candles, who, by
their dress and general appearance, must have belonged to the middle
classes. In the open court in front of the convent, there were not less
than 2,000 persons collected; and when the image was carried past, I did
not see a single individual in any other position than upon his knees.
Another time, walking in the neighbourhood of the city, on the road, or
rather track, across the mountains, I observed two university students,
seventeen or eighteen years of age, busily employed in collecting
stones, and laying them upon a cross erected by the wayside in
commemoration of a murder,--and with each stone muttering a prayer. I
did not, at that time, understand the meaning of this strange
occupation; but I afterwards learned, that in virtue of some ancient
papal authority, a certain indulgence is granted for every stone laid on
the cross of a murdered man, if accompanied by a prayer.
The general aspect of the population of Toledo is intensely Spanish;
there is no admixture of foreign, or even of modern innovation, to be
seen. Men of all ranks wear the cloak; and the small round,
high-crowned, Spanish hat, is worn not only by the peasantry, but almost
universally, by persons of all classes. Among the women, no colours are
to be seen; black is the universal dress; and scarcely any one enters a
church unveiled. Largely as the friars enter into the street population
of Madrid, they enter far more largely into that of Toledo. In Madrid
they are spread over a greater surface. In Toledo, the only lounge is
the Plaza Real; and there, at certain hours, particularly about two
o’clock, it seems almost like a convent hall of recreation, and a
sacristy of a cathedral united; for canons, and prebendaries, and
curates, and twenty different orders of friars, are seen standing in
groups, strolling under the piazzas, or seated upon benches, refreshing
themselves with melons or grapes. There cannot be a more perfect
realization of the conception of “fat, contented ignorance,” than the
Plaza Real of Toledo presents every day after dinner. Not many poor are
to be seen among the population of Toledo; it has now dwindled down to
that point, at which the wants of the church, the university, and the
convents, can sustain it: beyond this number there are few; and those
few are supported by church and convent alms: the only beggars I saw,
were three or four women, who sat at the gate of the cathedral.
I was not long in Toledo before visiting its cathedral, which has no
rival but the cathedral of Seville, in its claims to be the greatest and
the most magnificent of Gothic temples. All the cathedrals I had ever
before seen, shrunk into insignificance when I entered the cathedral of
Toledo. The following are the dimensions of this majestic pile. The
interior of the church is four hundred and eight feet long, and two
hundred and six feet wide; and the height of the aisles is one hundred
and sixty feet. The columns that run along the aisles are forty-five
feet round: there are sixty-eight painted windows; and surrounding the
choir, and the Altar Major, there are one hundred and fifty-six marble
and porphyry pillars. I was not able to see the _Preciocidades_ the
first day I went to the cathedral: to be so specially favoured, a
separate order was required; and I returned accordingly the following
morning by appointment. I do not mean to enumerate the different
articles that compose the riches of the cathedral of Toledo--the richest
in the world--but I shall mention a very few of the most remarkable. I
saw the Virgin’s mantle,--one mass of precious stones, especially
pearls, of which there must have been thousands, if not millions: I saw
many images of pure gold, studded with precious stones: I saw the
Virgin’s crown, also of pure gold, but entirely covered with the largest
and most brilliant jewels,--sapphires, emeralds, rubies, and diamonds;
and surmounted by an emerald of most extraordinary size and beauty; the
image which upon high days is arrayed in all this finery, is of silver.
There is another room, called the _custodia_, in which I saw innumerable
urns of pure gold, most of them studded with precious stones; and which
contain relics: these I did not ask to see, but I was informed that
there are few saints in the calendar, of whom this the relicary of
Toledo does not contain something. The value of the gold and silver
might be easily ascertained; but the value of jewels is more
capricious: I was told, however, that every article is inventoried and
valued, in a book kept for that purpose; and although my informant did
not state to me the precise amount noted in the book, he said it
exceeded forty millions of ducats (10,000,000_l._ sterling): whether the
value of the relics be included in this estimate, I cannot tell. This is
a melancholy waste of property; and when, in connexion with this, we
view the deplorable condition of Spain, we naturally inquire whether the
judicious employment of this wealth could materially better that
condition. Undoubtedly it might accomplish much; and had the whole inert
wealth of Spain been directed a hundred years ago into useful channels,
Spain would at this day have been a more enlightened and a more
flourishing country; but Spain could never have been made one continued
garden, as some writers have supposed; because the wealth of the world
could never charge Castilian skies with rain-clouds; force springs to
bubble from sandy deserts; or clothe with soil, the rocky Sierras that
half cover the Peninsula.
The wealth of the cathedral of Toledo had a narrow escape from the
rapacity of the French: upon their approach, the archbishop--not the
present, but the last archbishop--carried away the whole of the portable
articles to Cadiz, and thus saved them: the heavier articles remained in
their places; and the French when they took possession of Toledo, asked
one fourth part of their value; but a much less sum was offered, and
accepted, viz. 90 arrobas, or 2250 lbs. of silver--a mere trifle,
scarcely equalling the value of one of the precious stones.
But the preciocidades, and marbles, and porphyries, and paintings, are
not, in my eyes, the most interesting features of the cathedral of
Toledo: its immensity, its grandeur, are its glories. The lofty and
majestic aisles--the massive and far-stretching columns of a temple like
this, seem almost to shadow forth the imperishable nature of the
religion whose sanctuary they adorn and uphold. The longer we
contemplate the vastness and majesty around, the mind is more and more
filled with awe, and lifted from the insignificance of life to a sense
of the greatness and solemn grandeur of eternity; we are filled with
enthusiasm and admiration,--enthusiasm the more lofty, because it is
mingled with religion; and admiration the more profound, since it is
mixed with astonishment, that so frail a creature as man should be able
to perpetuate his memory for ever. While I remained in Toledo, I spent a
part of every day in the cathedral; and every evening, about sunset, I
strolled through the aisles. These visits will not soon be forgotten,
for it is but rarely that life gathers such subjects of remembrance. The
last evening I remained in Toledo, I walked into the cathedral sometime
after sunset,--it was the latest visit I had made to it: the interior
was all wrapped in deep dusk;--the lofty aisles stretched darkly beyond,
only shewn by a solitary lamp burning before the shrine of some inferior
saint,--its ineffectual light dimly falling athwart the gloom; the
painted windows had ceased to throw their gorgeous hues within,--but a
speckled and faintly-coloured gleam fell upon the upper part of the
columns. Two candles burnt before the Altar Major; and in the distance,
at the farthest extremity of the church, a bright red blaze flashed
across the aisle, and between the massive pillars,--throwing their broad
shadows across the marble-chequered floor of the church: this was the
chapel of the miraculous image, lighted up with an infinity of
tapers,--and the only sound to be heard, save my own footstep, was the
distant hum of prayer from the many devotees prostrated before her
shrine. Here and there, as I walked through the aisles, I saw a solitary
kneeler at the altar of a favourite saint; and at some of the remotest
and obscurest spots, a cloaked caballero was waiting for good or for
evil.
I dedicated my second morning in Toledo to the Alcazar, one of the most
striking objects in the city, from almost whatever quarter it is viewed.
This massive fabric was once the residence of the Moorish kings, and
more lately of the Castilian sovereigns. It was in the reign of Charles
V. that the present south and north fronts were erected, the former by
Herrera. The whole building is now in a state of decay,--these
magnificent fronts are falling into ruin; and the inside of the edifice
is no longer habitable; one wing only, which is still entire, is used as
a prison. When Toledo ceased to be the metropolis of Spain, the Alcazar
was converted into a workhouse, and more lately it was employed as a
silk manufactory. The archbishop undertook the establishment of this
from humane motives, but the undertaking proved a failure; and it is
probable that the Alcazar will now be delivered over to the hand of
time.
Among other parts of the Alcazar, I visited the vaults, which are of
immense extent, and open to the public, but are put to no use whatever:
in one of the vaults, a party of gipsies had made their quarters; they
had lighted a large fire, around which some lay sleeping; and one woman
was employed in cooking. The grotesque and ragged figures of the
gipsies, and the high vault illuminated by the red flare, reminded me of
the strong lights, and picturesque groups of the Spanish painters.
Standing in front of the Alcazar, with the terrace which overlooks the
city and the surrounding country--with ruins of Roman walls, and Moorish
castles at my feet--and with the palace of three races of kings behind;
it was impossible to avoid a retrospect of the past history of this
remarkable city. More than two centuries before the birth of Christ,
Toledo was added by Hannibal to the empire of the Carthagenians; and
after being subsequently a part of the Roman empire, it was wrested from
the dominion of Rome, by Eurico, king of the Goths, in the year 467. It
continued subject to the Gothic line nearly two hundred and fifty years;
when the Moors, after having subdued the greater part of Spain, and
reduced most of the principal cities, invested Toledo, and captured it
in 714. In the year 1085, after Toledo had remained under the
sovereignty of the Moors between three and four hundred years, Alonzo
VI., and Rodrigo Diaz--the Cid, expelled the Moors from its walls; and
from that period, until the expulsion of the Moors from Spain, Toledo
was alternately a stronghold of the Castilians, and of the Moors. And,
even after the settlement of Spain, it became the head of an
insurrection, which convulsed Castile during twenty-two years; whose
object was, to restrict the privileges of the nobles, and, in fact, to
re-model in many respects the constitution of Castile: but, in the year
1522, Toledo submitted to the crown; and since that period, its history
has been only remarkable as recording in successive steps of decay, the
gradual decline of the Spanish monarchy.
But, although Toledo is chiefly interesting, for its monuments of past
glory and prosperity, it is not without some excellent and flourishing
institutions even at this day. All of this kind that Toledo possesses,
is the work of the late Archbishop Lorenzana, a man of very opposite
character from the prelate who, at present wields the sceptre of the
church. Lorenzana was an able man, and an excellent ecclesiastic; and
gave practical evidence of his goodness in the many excellent
institutions which he founded. Among these, I was particularly pleased
with the lunatic asylum,--a noble edifice, and perfect in all its
arrangements. The spectacles revealed in a mad-house, are never
agreeable; but they are sometimes interesting, and here, there were
several of this character. I was conducted to the cell of one person,
whose insanity arose from erroneous views of religion. The walls were
entirely covered with drawings in chalk, executed with great spirit, and
representing funerals, tombs, death heads, devils, religious
processions, priests, and ceremonies. Another, certainly a most
interesting object, I saw in the large hall, where the inoffensive
maniacs are permitted to be at large; this was a middle-aged woman,
seated upon the ledge of the window, her eyes intently fixed upon the
sky; she was a native of a village on the coast of Murcia, which had
been destroyed by the earthquake the autumn before: she had been at a
neighbouring hamlet selling dates; and on her return to her village, she
had seen her home, and with it, her children, swallowed up: she had
never spoken from that hour, and all day long she sat on the window
ledge of this hall gazing upon the sky; and every day the strength of
two persons was required to take her from the window to dinner. I shall
only mention one other individual, whose case is interesting, as
throwing light upon Spanish morals and justice. This was also a woman,
but in her perfect senses; she had lived with her aunt, who was
housekeeper to a canon in Toledo; and the canon had seduced her.
Instigated by revenge, or hatred, she afterwards cut his throat during
the night; and the public authorities, unwilling to expose the affair,
by bringing her to trial, ascribed the act to a fit of madness, and sent
her to the asylum.
The handsome edifice now occupied by the university, is another act of
Lorenzana. The University of Toledo dates its origin from the time of
the Moors; and was revived after their expulsion, in the year 1529. At
present, it is chiefly celebrated as a law university; the number of
students on its books, at the time I visited Toledo, was rather more
than seven hundred; and I was informed that nine-tenths of these were
law students, and that, of the remaining tenth, only _eight_ were
students of the theological classes. When speaking of the education of
members of the liberal professions, I detailed the course of study
required of the law student in this university.
Lorenzana also established a college for girls, chiefly the children of
officers and employées; here they are well educated in every useful and
ornamental branch of education--and here they may remain all their
lives, at the charge of government, if they neither marry, nor choose to
go into a convent. By a fundamental rule laid down by the founder, a
small dowry is given to every one who marries, but nothing is given to
carry into a convent. Formerly, there used to be tertulias here every
evening, at which the students of the university were welcome visitors;
but the entrée of the colegio is now forbidden to all students, even to
those who reside in Toledo with their families. When I visited this
institution, there were twenty-seven young ladies: ten had been married
the year before; and I understand, very few disappoint the intentions of
the founder by going into convents.
From all antiquity the Spaniards have been celebrated for the
manufacture of steel arms; and a “Toledo blade” long has been, and still
is, an expression implying excellence. The celebrated sword manufactory,
to which I walked one afternoon, lies about three quarters of a league
from the city, close to the river, which is required for working the
machinery. It is a building of extraordinary extent, comprising within
it not only the forges, workshops, and depositories of arms; but also
accommodations of every kind for those employed in the manufactory, who,
in former times, were extremely numerous. I visited every part of the
establishment, and saw the progress of the manufactory throughout all
its stages. The flexibility and excellent temper of the blades are
surprising; there are two trials which each blade must undergo before it
be pronounced sound,--the trial of flexibility, and the trial of temper.
In the former it is thrust against a plate on the wall, and bent into an
arc, at least three parts of a circle. In the second, it is struck
edgeways upon a leaden table, with the whole force which can be given by
a powerful man, holding it with both hands. The blades are polished upon
a wheel of walnut wood; and when finished, are certainly beautiful
specimens of the art.
The manufactory once employed many hundred hands; but it has long been
on the decline; and at present, only fifty workmen are required; these
finish about eight thousand swords in the year. They work by piece, and
make about one hundred reals per week (20_s._), and some of the most
industrious workmen, twenty-four reals more. Before the separation of
the colonies, twenty-five more workmen were employed. They generally
keep a stock three years in advance; but owing to the recent and
unexpected equipment of two regiments of guards, the number of swords
when I walked through the magazine, was only twenty thousand.
Returning to the city from the manufactory, I visited the Franciscan
convent; once an immense pile, but now partly in ruins,--the effect of
war. It is still however a fine building, and of great extent; and the
alms of the devout have been so liberally bestowed, that I found them
busily employed in raising a new and magnificent edifice upon the ruins
of that which had been destroyed. Finding the gate of the convent open,
I walked in, and ascending a stair, reached the dormitory of the monks
without any one questioning me. The Franciscans do not earn their
reputation for self-denying sanctity, without working for it. Judging by
the cells which I saw in this convent, I may say, that if their comforts
by day, are no greater than those provided for night, their lives are
truly lives of penance and mortification. Near to the Franciscan convent
are the remains of a Roman amphitheatre; but even these remains are fast
disappearing.
I had spent five days in Toledo greatly to my satisfaction. From both of
the gentlemen to whom I had carried introductions, I received constant
civilities: with the one, I drank chocolate every evening, and found in
his son an admirable cicerone,--in himself, an intelligent
companion,--and in his wife and daughter, obliging and delightful
triflers. From the other (the prebendary), I received the unusual
compliment of being invited to dinner,--a dinner, as Dr. Johnson would
have said, such as was fit to invite a man to eat. The chief dish was a
roasted ham, which I had never before seen,--but which I beg to
recommend to the attention of all who are not above the enjoyment of
dining well. This is not an unusual dish in Spain, when it is intended
to treat a guest well. I had afterwards, at Valencia, the pleasure of
having my recollection of the prebendary’s dinner agreeably refreshed.
I had now gratified my curiosity at Toledo, and proposed returning to
Madrid by the same conveyance that had brought me; but I found that it
was all engaged by churchmen; and that another extra conveyance was also
engaged by them: a canon had died, and half the clergy of Toledo were
going to Madrid to sue for his place. I obtained a seat in a _galera_,
in which there were five priests, and I was much amused with the freedom
and good humour with which they spoke of their pretensions and hopes;
and upon this occasion, these were more than usually uncertain, because
no one knew with whom the patronage lay. The appointment of canons to
the cathedral of Toledo is shared between the king and the archbishop;
seven months in the year belong to the king, and five to the archbishop.
This was the first canon who had died during the seven months that
belong to the king; but the patronage of the last appointment, about two
months before, which had belonged to the archbishop, had been ceded by
him to the king for some particular reason, in the understanding however
that the first vacancy, during the next seven months, should be filled
up by the archbishop; but the question was, whether his majesty would
recollect his royal promise. For my part, I heartily wished he might;
for among the five candidates who were my companions, one only seemed to
stand in need of a better served table than he was accustomed to,--and
he, as the muleteer told me, was a distant relation of the archbishop;
but perhaps it was as likely that the archbishop might forget his
relation, as that the king might forget his promise.
Either our mules were less sagacious, or our drivers less expert than
those entrusted with the care of the galera that had brought me to
Toledo; for, descending a steep sandbank, about two leagues from the
city, the conversation of the clerigos was suddenly and disagreeably
interrupted by the vehicle being thrown over. The sand, however, was so
deep that no one sustained any injury; and after the little delay
occasioned by putting the galera upright, the journey and the
conversation were resumed together, and we reached Madrid without any
farther hindrance.
END OF VOL. I.
Printed by S. Manning & Co., London-house-yard, St. Paul’s.
End of Project Gutenberg's Spain in 1830, vol. 1, by Henry D. Inglis