We marched on the morning of the 20th of May, 1812, and on the 21st
entered our old quarters at Truxillo. The journey was fatiguing, but,
as we returned by the main road, our sufferings were not by any means
so great as they were on the former occasion.
Truxillo is large and populous, and appears from the remains of its
ancient buildings, castles, churches, and walls, to have once been a
place of considerable note, and one of the principal towns in this
part of Spain. From the hill, on which it stands, there is a
commanding view, even to the mountains of Miravete. The square is
spacious and uniform, the houses built in the Moorish style, their
upper compartments projecting, so as to form a range of handsome
piazzas underneath, where all the most respectable shops are situated.
The windows above, opening to the plaza, are furnished with handsomely
ornamented verandas and balconies, in front of which are appended
solid iron bars. The fair Senoras occasionally display their charms at
those windows, during the cooler hours, decked out in holyday robes
and gaiest attire, imparting a brilliancy of effect to their balconies
which it would be impossible for the most costly works of art to
rival.
On the South side of the Square, the attention of the stranger is
attracted to the splendid fabric, erected by the celebrated Pizarro,
to commemorate the successes of his victorious arms in the Western
hemisphere. It is large and solid, and of such ample dimensions that a
regiment of French soldiers found space to lodge therein. On the
surface of the flat roof are several marble figures, designed, it is
said, to represent the Peruvian princes and warriors who submitted to
the Spanish chief, in his wars against their nation. They remain,
however, monumental of the barbarous cruelties exercised towards a
harmless people, by a merciless tyrant, who is to this day
undeservedly held up to admiration in his native country.
The principal amusements of this place are the bull-fights. Soon after
our arrival there was one of those performances took place in the
Plaza de Torres, to celebrate our late exploits. It was a miserable
attempt to represent those exhibitions as they were in former days.
Two or three unfortunate bulls were driven, or rather tormented, into
a circle formed in the Square; they were then goaded by a multitude
of men and boys, until the animals became almost frantic; their
tormentors, throwing up hats, caps, cloaks, and sticks, while hooting
and yelling forth the most abominable noises. Although this afforded
_us_ but little sport, it was a means of collecting a large assemblage
of spectators, from all parts of the town and country, and the houses
around the Square were filled; the doors and balconies, as well as the
roofs, being crowded with the delighted amateurs. Numerous fair
damsels were among them, dressed out in gaudy colours, attended by
their duennas, to witness the barbarous entertainment.
Amidst the cries, yells, and shouting of the peasants in the ring, one
of the bulls, infuriated and lashed into rage, not only by his
persecutors in human form, but also by some ferocious mastiffs, would
occasionally make a desperate rush in upon the mob of ruffians, and
violently running down a fellow more daring than the others, would
toss him up with his horns several yards in the air, to the
inexpressible delight and admiration of the surrounding audience, who
expressed their savage joy in loud and deafening acclamations;
clapping their hands, and waving handkerchiefs and fans, by way of
approbation of the inhuman spectacle. At intervals, the peasants
paired off in the fandango, or bolero, with some fair sweetheart,
putting themselves through the most ridiculous antics, while
accompanied by the music of an old cracked guitar, or broken-winded
clarionet, performed on by some wretched artist.
Truxillo must have been in the days of yore a formidable place;
rendered so, not only by its elevated site, but also by the nature of
its defences, and a high wall, which in ancient times completely
encompassed it, of which the gates alone remain. The country
immediately around it is open, presenting but little appearance of any
sort of verdure, but in the direction of Almaraz, there are thick and
extensive forests, of oak and other trees.
On the 12th of June we marched to Fuentes del Maestro, where I got
into capital quarters, at the house of Don Diego Dias, which, though
it had been occupied by French Dragoons, the Don made tolerably
habitable, furnishing a good bed, in an old barrack of a room. It had
formerly been the residence of a nobleman, but the constant
thoroughfare of the French had long since caused its owner to quit the
country, leaving at the mercy of the plundering crew his property and
his dwelling. The wreck and havoc which were made upon his furniture,
and the interior of the mansion, fully justified the fears of its
original possessor.
On the 1st of September, we again resumed our journey towards the
interior; and, marching some hours before daylight, we arrived when it
became clear, at La Hava. Our road, for the most part, lay over a
country thinly planted with olive trees, but producing numerous
fruitful vines. On approaching La Hava, the distant spires of Don
Benito became discernible, and, on passing two leagues further,
appeared the mountain of Marcella, upon the highest part of which
stands the castle and village of Marcella. The former is an old
fortified ruin, having a round tower in the centre, and the latter a
poor miserable place, consisting of a few wretched hovels crowded
together.
Like all the small towns, in this part of Spain, we found La Hava a
collection of insignificant habitations, thrown into a group, without
order or regularity, as if the place had suddenly dropped from the
clouds; the chapel, as usual, in the centre, being the most prominent
object in this confused assemblage of nondescript dwellings.
We entered Don Benito on the 4th of September, and, as we had been
formerly quartered there, the inhabitants were kind and hospitable. In
this instance, as well as in every other, when we had occasion to make
the observation, the Spaniards proved themselves a generous and
friendly people, evincing in every possible way, and by every mark of
good-will, the pleasure they experienced not only in seeing strangers
but on the return of those whom they had known before, and who had at
other times enjoyed their hospitality. I was quartered at the house of
Don Pedro Montenegro, a fat portly gentleman, who, with his family,
exerted themselves to make my residence within their walls as
agreeable as I could desire.
During our stay the ceremony of a Spanish wedding was performed in my
quarters, which, though not affording much that was calculated to
enliven the company assembled, was characteristic of the people, and
their motives for entering into the holy state. Alonzo, the happy
bridegroom, was a rosy cheeked comely boy of sixteen. His friends
proposed him as a suitable match for Senora Maria Teresa, the daughter
of my landlord, for the purpose of preventing his being liable to be
called off to serve in the armies--married men being then exempt from
the contributions required to fill up the ranks, all the youthful
fellows in the neighbourhood espoused themselves in order to avoid the
Junta's levies; so that many contracted an union at a very early age,
or when mere children, for fear of the war.--Our hero did not appear
to be much interested about the matter; young and simple, as he was,
the passion of love was quite a stranger to his breast. His intended
Maricita, a fine girl of eighteen, was however of no such temperament,
for having arrived at years of discretion she was better educated in
all those sort of things, and consequently made herself as engaging as
possible in the eyes of her juvenile bridegroom.--They were seldom
together before their marriage; courtship seemed to be laid aside as a
superfluous piece of business, and the whole affair of matrimony,
being previously settled by the wiseacres of their families, the poor
devoted victims had nothing to do but just get on as they were
commanded.
The friends and acquaintances, consisting of a bevy of old and young
of both sexes, together with a moderate share of clerigos, being
assembled, Alonzo made his _entrée_ clothed in a _capote_, of
materials warm enough to raise a flame within his frigid breast, if
there was even an expiring ember there. His hair was tied up with
ribbons, and a sash completed his attire. The fair bride, attended by
her sister Catalina, soon came after, dressed in sable robes, that
being the costume worn at all times on these occasions.
The reverend priest followed, and without delay began to make his
preparations for riveting the chain, by reading out of a huge black
book, by the light of a long wax taper. Having muttered for some
minutes, in a hollow tone scarcely audible, he joined their hands,
then poured forth his last benediction, and so this important ceremony
was concluded. After the venerable Father had bestowed his blessing on
the guests around, all immediately resumed their places, on low forms
and chairs on either side of the room. The Patrona, together with her
assistant deities, retired to an adjoining alcoba, where they
commenced serving out refreshments, of all varieties, upon large
plates: these were handed about by a couple of jolly, good-looking
padres, who, as they offered them to the lovely senoritas, showed no
small degree of gallantry, passing off compliments and soft words,
highly acceptable to their willing ears.
Poor Alonzo, meanwhile, sat like Patience, and, though not smiling at
grief, yet he looked very much as if he would rather be at home with
his mother, than be brought to cut such a figure in the mummery. The
bride, every now and then, modestly hid her face and blushes from the
vulgar gaze, under a long black veil of the finest lace.
Chocolate and cakes were handed round, and the damsels pocketed the
fragments, which they purloined without any remorse of conscience.
About nine o'clock the company began to separate, and this most stupid
of all stupid weddings was finished by a general salutation on all
sides, and by Alonzo, amidst the smiles and winks of the envious
spinsters, going off quietly to his father's, while his cara sposa
remained at home in single blessedness, to dream of happiness yet to
come.
While we remained at Don Benito, the natives vied with each other in
their efforts to afford as much enjoyment as possible to their guests.
Balls and other festivities were among the many sources by which they
endeavoured to amuse us.
The assemblies were usually held in the spacious apartment of a large
building, the residence of a marquis, and situated in the grand
square. The fair and lively daughters of my host were regular
attendants at the ball-room, and were escorted thither by a tall black
looking man, who, in his official capacity of chaperon, on this and
other occasions, took the damsels under his wing, and as he proceeded
along collected a reinforcement of old and young; his party, by the
time of their arrival, having accumulated to a motley crowd of
votaries, including domestics and a train of followers: many of them
under pretence of being brothers, friends or relations, intruded
uninvited, pushing after the ladies without ceremony, to the no small
annoyance of the respectable portion of the company. The women on
those occasions make but few preparatory arrangements. After having
merely plaited up the hair, or thrown a mantilla loosely across the
neck and shoulders, and adorned the feet with a pair of white or
yellow shoes, they sally forth in the same dress which they have worn
during the day.
We departed from Don Benito on the 13th of September, and passing over
the plains of Medellin, forded the Guadiana about a league above the
bridge.
On the 14th we reached Villa Mercia. It was so very early when we got
into the neighbourhood of this place, a place so wretched that we
could scarcely get even a drop of water. The troops halted on the open
ground some distance from the village. The vestige of a single plant
or tree was not to be seen on any side, and the dry stubble-fields
yielded us no means of obtaining the comfort of a fire. Our chances
for a breakfast were therefore but slight. After marching for the
greater part of a very cold night, we all looked blue enough at
daybreak, eyeing wistfully the country round for something to build
our hopes upon; but alas! the interminable waste was to us as much a
desert as the barren sands of Africa. When the arms were piled the men
threw off their packs, and seating themselves thereon, commenced a
voyage of discovery in their haversacks, rummaging every hole and
corner for sundry fragments, the residue of four days provender. The
officers with hollow cheeks and cadaverous aspect, having gone to bed,
(or rather to mach,) supperless, and being without the slightest
chance of muffins or hot rolls, were ruminating on the evil day on
which they went a soldiering. In the midst of this, some of the
knowing hands, while prowling about the camp, for a few sticks
wherewithal to boil a kettle, beheld an old, crazy and dismantled
bullock-cart, (on the retired list) lying quietly on the field. As
soon as the prize was seen, a general rush succeeded, and, like a pack
of hounds pouncing on an unfortunate fox, they flew at the ill-fated
remnant of the waggon, and without waiting to dissect, _secundem
artem_, the subject before them, they tore it limb from limb, and
the broken fragments were carried off in triumph by the ravenous crew.
Soon there arose a thin curling smoke in various quarters, awfully
distant from each other, and those lucky favourites of fortune, who
got a splinter of the aforesaid vehicle, were quickly gladdened by a
flame; meanwhile, the tin, wherein the Congo was infused, hung
dangling on a ramrod, suspended by two bayonets stuck cunningly in the
earth. The poor wretch, with a visage of at least a span in length,
who failed in his attempts to share in the spoil of the waggon,
scraped up the stubble, which, damp with heavy dew, baffled all his
labour, and he was at last obliged, with his culinary vessel in one
hand, and his canister in the other, to wander from right to left, in
order to beg a portion of some friendly blaze.
Renewing our march on the following day, we continued on the road
until a late hour.--The face of the country, as far as the eye could
reach, was an extended waste, devoid of any thing in the shape of
tillage; the plain, wide and boundless, interspersed with scattered
rocks, with occasional patches of heath and broom, was quite as wild
as any lover of romance could wish. After some hours travelling over
this dreary road, its sameness was at length relieved by a view of the
Sierra de Santa-Cruz, the highest pinnacle of which rises in the form
of a pyramid, and has a most remarkable-looking old castle, situated
upon a lofty cliff near its western side.
The main road from Villa Mercia directed us, after many turnings, to
the base of those heights. Among the rocks even to the highest peak,
the sheep and goats were browsing, and at intervals we observed the
shepherds with their dogs, in places where it would seem impossible
that any human being could obtain a footing. In the grassy marshes
below were large herds of oxen and other cattle grazing.--We had an
opportunity of having a nearer view of these shepherds, who descended
from the steep acclivities, and we were astonished beyond measure at
their ferocious aspect and savage garb; one could not help comparing
them, as they stood, with those of old, as described by ancient
writers, when in simple dress, with crook and pipe, the rustics tending
their flocks in Arcadian fields, charmed by soft and rural notes the
lovely damsels of the woods and plains. The Spanish guardian of the
flock, from his warlike costume, his dark and bearded visage, seemed
better adapted for a ruffian robber of the forest, or the ranks of a
Guerrilla Chief, than a gentle warbler of simple love songs. These
peasants were cloathed with coarse materials; their inner garments
were protected from the weather by pieces of sheep skin rudely joined,
and they were armed with a dirk and an old fusil.
On the 29th of September we departed from Guerindote, our route
leading over the spacious plain that extended to the Tagus. Upon the
green borders of that river we at length arrived, and before us, in
the midst of splendid scenery, lay the far-famed City of Toledo. The
inhabitants, on first beholding our approach, assembled in multitudes
on the road, near the outskirts, where we had already halted. They
pressed on to welcome us, while with loud huzzas and shouting they
rent the air. We entered by the principal gate, and marched up to the
Plaza Mayor, amidst joyous salutations, and the ringing of innumerable
bells. The balconies around were literally crammed with a brilliant
show of beauty, waving flags, handkerchiefs and ribbons; their delight
on seeing the English soldiers, was expressed with unaffected
gladness, and could we judge by this display of feeling, we might have
flattered ourselves with at least having the people of this city for
our friends.
Toledo, from its situation on a semicircular chain of rugged heights,
has a broken and irregular aspect; and, as the steep sides of the
eminence descend precipitously to the Tagus, many of the buildings
seem as it were impending over the banks of that river, which nearly
surrounds the city walls. Across the stream are two solid bridges,
each having one arch of considerable span, and of dimensions
correspondent to the magnitude of the passage.
The brief period of our stay permitted not of any minute inspection of
various objects, well deserving the traveller's notice. We could
therefore take but a hasty survey; and in passing through the city, it
was impossible to avoid admiring the beauty of many buildings, the
names of which we knew not, nor had time to enquire.
Having proceeded down the Calle del Caromen, a long and handsome
street, we found ourselves close to the grand cathedral, the finest
perhaps in the kingdom. The utmost force of language could but faintly
convey any idea of the magnificence of that building; the grandeur of
which far exceeded any thing we had hitherto beheld in this country,
and was worthy of being honored by a far more minute inspection than
we had time to bestow on it. The roof is supported by lofty pillars
and fluted columns of marble, and composition in imitation thereof.
The floor is composed of the same stone, dark, and highly polished.
Approaching towards the centre aisle, we encountered a ragged looking
cicerone, who volunteered to conduct us to the vault within which lay
in state the anatomy of St. Ursula, a lady whose memory is highly
reverenced by the people of Spain. We descended by a narrow flight of
stone steps, led on by the aforesaid genius, who, chuckling within
himself at the idea of relieving the curious Ingleses of their loose
cash, yet seeming wondrous grave, brought us in a few moments to the
door of the sepulchre. The skeleton of her ladyship lay very
comfortably in a glass case, and lest the venerable saint might feel
rather solitary in this abode, a lamp was suspended from the vaulted
roof of her bedchamber, to enliven her gloomy residence, as well as to
enable the visitors to examine her crumbling bones.
Having rewarded the guide, we renewed our search for the numerous
objects within this extraordinary and sacred pile, and while we were
thus engaged we met the Secretary, who introduced us to his
apartments, where we were much gratified by the sight of some rich and
beautiful paintings, by which the walls were ornamented. Among the
exhibitions of art, which hung within the court yard, those of the
capture of Toledo, by the Spaniards from the Moors, and the grand
procession of Charles the 4th were by far the finest in the Cathedral.
They were all executed by that inimitable artist Francisco Bayue.
Having seen every thing worthy of observation within, we passed
through the main entrance, and commenced the ascent of a flight of
steps leading to the belfry; at the top of which having safely landed
we beheld the famous bell, said to be the largest in Europe. It is
suspended from a massive beam, and its weight, as marked on the side,
is 1543 arobas of 32 lb. each. The height of the spire, as far as the
belfry, is about two hundred feet, and we counted a hundred and ninety
four steps, while climbing to this part of the tower.
The Senoras of Toledo are low in stature; but being possessed of as
large a share of beauty as those of any other part of Spain, and full
of animation, they are all that can be wished as far as personal
charms are concerned. And, indeed, to do them every justice, I must
say they received us with a warm and hearty kindness, that was long,
yes, very long remembered. When they assemble on the _passeo_, they
dress in every respect as they do for public worship, clothed in fine
robes of the richest black silk or velvet, trimmed with lace, their
persons decorated with various brilliant ornaments, and the hair
tastefully braided up with combs of costly workmanship. A beautiful
transparent veil, thrown gracefully over the figure, partially enfolds
those charms it is intended to adorn.
Females of the lower class wear thick and substantial garments of
black or brown cloth, of measurement so ample, that no opinion can be
formed as to the dimensions of their shape. The men of rank generally
dress in black, with chapeau, buckles, sword, and waistbelt. The
working people and peasants wore the cloth jacket, botas, and montero
cap, with a profusion of tassels and buttons. Instead of shoes they
wear sandals, made of strong brown leather, laced round the foot and
instep; these, together with the botas, (or leathern gaiters), shew to
great advantage their round and well turned limbs.
We departed from Toledo on the 30th of September, at an early hour in
the morning, very much regretting that we had so short a time to see
every thing worthy of notice in that delightful place. Our route lay
through a richly planted vale, watered by the Tagus, with whose rapid
current we were in company for the whole of this day's march.
Towards evening the troops were encamped upon a most inviting spot;
the ground upon which our alignment was taken up being the fresh and
verdant banks of the river, and around our bivouac, on every side,
were gardens and green plantations, filled with a great variety of
shrubs and flowers in their Autumnal tints. With the soft leaves of
these, (now thickly fallen), for a bed, we enjoyed that rest, after a
toilsome journey, which "the weary traveller never seeks in vain."
In the forenoon of the 1st of October, the column was again on the
main road leading to Aranjuez, and parallel with the course of the
river. When we were within two leagues of our destined quarters, we
entered a noble avenue of tall trees, their branches forming a long
continued archway overhead, and protecting us from a scorching sun.
The camino real was planted in double rows, in so direct a line, that
the endless vista in perspective was, to our impatient optics, any
thing but agreeable; and whatever little stock of patience remained
within our keeping, was pretty well exhausted by the time we gained
the end of our morning's tramp. At last, about 11 o'clock, we got into
our cantonments; bugles, drums, and pipes rattling through the
streets, enough, (at least in one sense,) to bring the very stones
about our ears. Without any unnecessary delay, we were permitted to
make ourselves perfectly at home, in mansions devoid of either comfort
or means of entertainment; emblems they truly were of splendid misery.
The ruthless hand of French campaigning had converted this once
interesting place into a comparative wilderness; the habitations had
not only been pillaged, but the furniture burned or destroyed, and
every vestige of their former grandeur swept away, by the cruel
ravages of this devastating warfare, leaving us to dispute with rats,
and other vermin, for possession of their desolate abodes.
Aranjuez, which is seven leagues from Madrid, seven from Toledo, and
nineteen from Segovia, has long been the residence of the Spanish
Court; and, even in its fallen state, there is still sufficient to
denote its past splendour. In spite of the ruin to which it has been
exposed, it has the stamp of noble bearing, and, previous to the
invasion, must have been one of the most beautiful towns in the
Spanish dominions. The Royal Palace, on the banks of the Tagus, is
worthy of being the residence of princes, and contains a number of
costly and magnificent paintings.
The Queen's Palace, or the Casa de Labrador, the charming summer
retreat of her Majesty, is fitted up with simplicity and elegance
combined, and, being replete with every comfort and luxury suited for
a Queen, it may well be termed a paradise in miniature. The walls are
covered with richly embroidered tapestry, and the finest needlework,
executed on silk and velvet, of exquisite workmanship.
Around the palaces and buildings for the nobility and members of the
court, are numerous gardens, groves, and plantations, in the walks
through which we rambled with much delight, as often as our duties
might permit. The few inhabitants remaining here assembled on the
promenade, to enjoy our military music, while a sprinkling of pretty
blackeyed senoritas rendered the place more highly interesting.