with her, and in the excess of his Rage, he ran to him with his Poynard
in his Hand; he was about to kill him, when this Woman placed herself
between, telling him, He might strike her if he would. Having the most
extream Passion for her, he could not but Pardon him, contenting himself
only with banishing him: But understanding she continu’d to love him,
and write to him, he studied only how to get a new Passion; when he had
one strong enough not to apprehend the Charms of Calderonna, he sent
word to her to retire into a Monastery, as is customary when the King
forsakes his Mistress. She put it not off, writing a Letter to the Duke,
to bid him Adieu: And she receiv’d the Veil of a Religio from the Hand
of the Apostolick Nuncio, who became since Innocent X. It is very likely
the King believ’d Don John was his real Son, seeing he loved him so
dearly: One thing will appear to you very singular, which is, that a
King of Spain having Natural Sons owned by him, they never enter Madrid
during his Life: So Don John was brought up at Ocanna, which is some
Leagues distant from it. The King, his Father, came oft thither, and he
made him come even to the Gates of the Town, where he went to meet him.
This Custom comes from that the Grandees of Spain dispute the Rank which
these Princes would hold. Don John, before he went into Catalonia,
remain’d commonly at Buen Retiro, which is a Royal Seat, at one of the
farthest parts of Madrid, a little without the Gate: And he shew’d
himself so little, that he was never seen at any Publick Feast during
the Life of the late King: but since, Times have chang’d, and his
Fortunes stand on a different bottom.
‘Whilst the Queen, Maria Ann of Austria, Sister to the Emperour, and the
King’s Mother, Govern’d Spain; and her Son was not yet of Age to hold
the Reigns of the State. She would have always Don John keep from the
Court; and moreover, found herself so capable of Governing, that she had
a mind to ease her Son for a long time of the Burden of Ruling. She was
not troubled to see him ignorant of whatever might give a desire of
Reigning: but though she brought the greatest Precautions, to hinder him
from feeling he was under too strict a Tutelage, and suffered no Persons
to come near him, but those she was well assured of; yet this hindred
not but some of the King’s Faithful Servants hazarded themselves, by
giving him to understand what he might do for his Liberty. He follow’d
the Advice was given him; and in fine, having taken Measures
accordingly, he stole away one Night, and went to Buen Retiro. He as
soon sent from thence an Order to the Queen his Mother, not to stir out
of the Palace.
‘Don John is of a middle Stature, well-shaped, Black and lively Eyes,
and a most Manly Countenance. He is Polite, Generous, and very Brave. He
is ignorant of nothing befitting his Birth, being well-verst in all Arts
and Sciences. He writes and speaks very well Five Languages, and
understands yet more. He has for a long time studied Judicial Astrology.
There is no Instrument which he cannot make, and use with the best
Masters. He works on all kinds of Mechanicks, makes Arms, and paints
finely. He took a great Pleasure in the Mathematicks; but being charg’d
with the Government of the State, he has been oblig’d to lay aside all
other Employments.
‘He came to Buen-Retiro in the beginning of the Year 1677, and as soon
as he was there, he sent the Queen-Mother to Toledo, because she had
declared against him, and hindred his return to the King. Don John had
an extream Joy in receiving from the King’s own Hand an Order to take
Care of Every thing, and to manage the Affairs of the Kingdom: And ’twas
not without occasion he discharged himself on him, seeing he then was
ignorant of the Art of Reigning. It was alledg’d for a Reason of his
slow Education, That the King his Father was dying when he gave him
Life: That when he came into the World, they were fain to put him in a
Box of Cotten, being so tender and small, that he could not be swadled:
That he was brought up in the Arms, and on the Knees of the Ladies of
the Palace, till he was Ten Years old, without putting his Foot once all
this while on the Ground to walk: That in the Sequel the Queen his
Mother, who was engaged by all the Ties of Natural Duty to preserve this
only Heir of the Spanish Branch, fearing to lose him, dared not let him
study, lest by too great an Application he should lose his Health, which
in truth was very unsound: And ’twas observ’d, that the great Number of
Women, with whom the King always was, and who too sharply reprehended
him for his Faults which he committed, had inspired him with such a
great Aversion to them, that as soon as ever he had notice a Lady staid
for him in any place he was to pass, he stole another way, or kept
himself shut up all day in his Chamber. The Marchioness de Luz Veles,
who was his Governess, told me, she waited for an Opportunity full six
months to speak with him, and when Chance had brought them unavoidably
to him, he took their Requests from their Hands, but turn’d his Head
another way, for fear he should see them. His Health is since so
increased, that his Marriage with the Arch-Dutchess, the Emperor’s
Daughter, having been broke off by Don John, by reason ’twas the
Queen-Mothers Project, he has desired to marry Mademoiselle d’ Orleans.
The Circumstances of the Peace which are lately concluded at Nimiguen,
made him cast his Eyes towards this Princess, with whose excellent
Qualities, Madam, you are better acquainted than I.
‘It is hard to believe, that having Dispositions so far from Gallantry,
he should become so suddenly and vehemently in love with the Queen, as
he became on the only Rehearsal of her good Qualities, and at the sight
of her Picture in Minature, which was shew’d him. He never lets it go
out of his Hand; he always holds it to his Heart; He Dialogues with it
so prettily, as astonishes all the Courtiers; for he speaks a Language
he never spoke: His Passion for the Princess furnishes him with a
thousand Thoughts, which he dares not entrust any body with. He thinks
no body makes haste enough; and therefore sends fresh Curriers every day
to carry his Billets doux, and bring back News of her.
‘When you come to Madrid,’ added he, ‘you will hear, Madam, several
Particulars which have without doubt hapned since I was there, and which
will perhaps more satisfie your Curiosity than what I have related to
you.’ ‘I am very much oblig’d to you,’ answer’d I, ‘for your Civilities;
but do me the Favour to oblige me farther, in giving me the true
Character of the Spaniards: You know them, and I am perswaded nothing
has escap’d your Enquiries; You speaking to me without Passion and
Interest, I may reckon my self sure of what you tell me.’ ‘Why believe
you, Madam,’ replied he smiling, ‘that I shall speak to you more
sincerely than another? There are Reasons which may render me suspected:
They are my Masters; I must manage them; And if I be not Politick enough
to do it, the Vexation of being constrained to obey them, would tempt me
to entertain Notions in their Respect contrary to Truth.’ ‘However it
be,’ said I, interrupting him, ‘pray tell me what you know of them.’
‘The Spaniards,’ said he, ‘have always past for Fierce and Glorious:
This Glory is mixt with Gravity; and they carry it so far, that one may
call it an extravagant Pride: They are Brave, without being Rash; yet
they are accused for not being daring enough. They are Cholerick,
Revengeful, without shewing any Transport, Liberal without Ostentation,
sober in their diet, very Presumptuous in Prosperity, too Rampant in
Adversity: They Idolize Women; they are so prepossest in their Favour,
that they shew no Discretion in the Choice of their Wives: They are
Patient to Excess, Obstinate, Idle, Singular, Philosophisers: And as to
the rest, Men of Honour, keeping their Words, tho it cost ’em their
Lives. They have a great deal of Wit and Vivacity, easily comprehend,
explain themselves in the same manner, and in few Words; They are
Prudent, Jealous without measure, Disinterested, bad Oeconomists, Close,
Superstitious, great Catholicks, at least in appearance: They are good
Poets, and write Verses with great Facility. They would be capable of
Nobler Sciences, would they vouchsafe to apply themselves thereto.
‘They have a Greatness of Soul, Elevated Wit, Constancy, a Natural
Seriousness, and a Respect for Ladies, as is not seen elsewhere: They
have a Set-Behaviour, full of Affectation, intoxicated with their own
Merit, hardly ever in this Particular doing Right to that of others.
Their Bravery consists in standing Valiantly on the Defensive Part,
without giving Ground, and without dreading Danger; but they love not to
seek it, which proceeds from their great Judgment: They discern Danger,
and avoid it. Their greatest Defect, in my Opinion, is the Passion of
Revenge, and the Means they use for this: Their Maxims hereupon are
absolutely opposite to Christianity and Honour: When they have receiv’d
an Affront, they make him be Assassinated who has offered it. They are
not contented with this; for they cause them to be Assassinated likewise
whom they have offended, in the Apprehension of being prevented, knowing
well, that if they do not kill, they shall be kill’d themselves. They
pretend to justifie themselves herein, when they say, That their Enemy
having took the first Advantage, they ought to secure themselves of the
second: That should they fail herein, they would wrong their Reputation:
That you must not fight with a Man that has insulted over you, but put
your self in a Condition to punish him, without running half the Danger.
It is true, that Impunity authorises this Conduct; for the Priviledge of
Churches and Convents in Spain, is to give an assured Retreat to
Criminals; And as near as they can, they commit these Villanies hard by
a Sanctuary, to have the less way to an Altar; Which you see oft
embraced by a Villain, with his Poynard reeking in his Hand, and
be-smeared with the Blood of the Murther which he has committed.
‘As to their Persons, they are very lean, little, fine shape, comely
Head, good Faces, fine Eyes, well-set Teeth, yellow and duskish
Complexion; they will have one walk slowly, commend big Legs, and a
little Foot, Shooes without Heels, parting the Hair on both sides, being
strait cut, and kept behind their Ears with a great Two-handed Hat, an
Habit always Black, instead of a Shirt, Taffity Sleeves, or black Tabby,
a Sword of a strange length, with a black Freize Cloak over all this,
very strait Breeches, hanging Sleeves, and a Poynard. All this must so
dis-figure a Man, let him be otherwise never so well-shaped, that they
seem to affect a Garb the most disagreeable; And ones Eyes cannot with
any Complacency accustom themselves to this sight.’
Don Frederick would have continued on his Discourse, and I had so much
pleasure in hearing him, that I would not have interrupted him; but he
broke off himself, having observ’d that the Play was at an end, and
considering, that we were to set out early next Morning, he thought I
might be desirous of retiring; he therefore with the other Gentlemen,
bad me good Night. I rose in effect very soon next Morning, because
’twas a great Journey to Birbiesca, where we intended to lie. We
follow’d the River to avoid the Mountains, and past at Oron, a great
River, which falls into the Ebre. We a while after entred into so strait
a Way, that our Litters could scarce pass: We ascended along a very
strait Coast to Pancorvo, whose Castle I saw standing on a rais’d
Ground, not far distant: We traverst a great Plain; and this was a
Novelty to us, to see an even Country: This here is surrounded with
several Mountains, which seem linkt together as a Chain, and especially
those of Occa: We must again pass over a little River, before we can
come to Birbiesca: This is only a Borough, which has nothing remarkable
but its Colledge, and some few pleasant Gardens along the Water. But I
may say, we came thither in worse Weather than any we had yet: I was so
tired, that as soon as I arriv’d I went to Bed: so that I saw not Don
Fernand de Toledo, and the other Gentlemen, till the next Day, at Cartel
de Peones. But I should tell you how one is serv’d in these Inns, they
being all alike: When you come into one of them, wearied and tired,
roasted by the heat of the Sun, or frozen by the Snows (for there is
seldom any Temperament between these Two Extreams), you see neither Pot
on the Fire, nor Plates wash’d: You enter into the Stable, and from
thence to your Chamber; this Stable is ordinarily full of Mules and
Muletteers, who make use of their Mules Saddles for Pillows in the
night, and in the day-time they serve ’em for Tables: They eat very
friendly with their Mules, and are very good Company together.
The Stair-Case by which you go up is very strait, and does rather
resemble a sorry Ladder: La Sennoro de la Casa receives you with her
Gown tuckt up, and her dangling Sleeves; she takes time to put on her
Sunday-Cloathes, whilst you get out of your Litter: and she never omits
this; for they are all very Poor and Vain Glorious. You are shewed a
Chamber, whose Walls are white enough, hung with a thousand little
scurvy Pictures of Saints; the Beds are without Curtains, the Covertures
of Cotton, the Sheets as large as Napkins, and the Napkins like
Pocket-handkerchiefs; and you must be in some considerable Town to find
four or five of them; for in other places there are none, no more than
there are Forks: They have only a Cup in the House; and if the
Mule-Drivers get first hold of it, which commonly happens, if they
please, (for they are serv’d with more Respect than those whom they
bring) you must stay patiently till they have done with it, or drink out
of an Earthen Pitcher. It is impossible to warm one at the Kitchin-fire,
without being choaked, for they have no Chimneys; and ’tis the same in
all the Houses on the Road; there is an Hole made in the top of the
Ceiling, and the Smoak goes out thence; the Fire is in the midst of the
Kitchin: They put what you would have roasted on Tiles, and when ’tis
well gril’d on one side, they turn the other: when ’tis gross Meat, they
fasten it to a String, and so let it hang on the Fire, and turn it with
their Hands; so that the Smoak makes it so black, that it would turn
ones Stomach to look on it.
I think there cannot be a better Representation of Hell than these sort
of Kitchins, and the Persons in them; for not to speak of this horrible
Smoak, which blinds and choaks one, they are a Dozen of Men, and as many
Women, blacker than Devils, nasty and stinking like Swine, and clad like
Beggars. There are always some of ’em impudently grating on a sorry
Guitar, and singing like a Cat a roasting. The Women have all of ’em
their Hair about their Ears, and you would take ’em for Bedlamites; they
have Glass Necklaces, which hang twisted about their Necks like Ropes of
Onions, but however serve to cover the Nastiness of their Skin. They are
as great Thieves as any are in Jayls, and they are urgent to serve you
only to have an opportunity to steal something of you, though it be but
a Pin.
Before all things, the Mistress of the House brings you her little
Children, who are bareheaded in the midst of Winter, though but of a Day
old: she makes ’em touch your Cloaths, she rubs their Eyes with them,
their Cheeks, Throat, and Hands. This seems as if one was become a
Relick, and could heal all Diseases. These Ceremonies over, you are
askt, If you will eat any thing; and though at Mid-night, you must send
to the Butchery, the Market, the Tavern, the Bakers; in fine, to all
parts of the Town, to gather wherewith to make a sorry Meal. For though
the Mutton here be very tender, their way of frying it with Oyl, is not
to every Bodies Relish. Here are great store of Partridges, and those
very large; they are not very fat, but dry; and to make ’em drier, they
roast ’em to a Coal. The Pidgeons here are excellent; and in several
places here is good Fish, especially Bessugosses, which have the taste
of a Trout, and of which they make Pasties, which would be good, were
they not stuff’d with Garlick, Saffron, and Pepper. Their Bread is white
enough, and sweet, that one would think it made up with Sugar; but it is
ill wrought, and so little baked, that it is as heavy as Lead in the
Stomach: it has the shape of a flat Cake, and is not much thicker than
one’s finger. The Wine is good, and Fruits in their season, especially
Grapes, which are very large, and of delicate taste. You may reckon
yourself certain of a good Desart. You have Sallads here of such good
Lettice as the World cannot afford better.
Do not think (Dear Cousin) ’tis sufficient to say, Go fetch such things,
to have them; for not very seldom you can meet with nothing: But
supposing you find what you would have, you must give out your Money
beforehand: so that your Meat is paid for before you have begun to eat
it; for the Master of the Inn is only allowed to Lodge you: they alledge
for a Reason, That it is not just one only Person should go away with
all the Profit from Travellers, it being better the Money should be
dispersed.
You enter not any Inn to Dine, but carry your Provision with you, and
stop at the Bank of some River, where the Mule-Drivers bate their Mules;
and this is with Oats or Barley, with chopt Straw, which they carry with
them in great Sacks; for as to Hay they give ’em none. It is not allow’d
a Woman to tarry above two Days in an Inn on the Road, unless she can
offer good Reasons. And here’s enough in relation to Inns, and the
Manner of your Treatment therein.
After Supper these Gentlemen play’d at Ombre, and I not being strong
enough to play against them, I went shares with Don Frederic de
Cardonne; and Don Fernand drew near the Fireside to me; he told me, He
could have wisht my time would permit me to pass by Vailladolid; that it
is the most pleasant Town of Old Castille, it having been for a great
while the Mansion of the Kings of Spain; and that they have a Palace
there fit for them. That as to him, he had Relations there would be
infinitely pleased to Entertain me; and would shew me the Dominicans
Church, which the Dukes of Lerma have founded; that it was very Stately,
and the Portal of singular Beauty, by means of the Figures and Embossed
Work, which enrich it: That in the Colledge of the same Convent the
French see there with great satisfaction, all the Walls full of Flower
de Luces; it being said, a Bishop who depended on the King of France,
had been at the Charge of Painting them. He added, They would have
carried me to the Religioses of St. Claire, to shew me in the Choir of
their Church, the Tomb of a Castillan Knight, whence ’tis said, issues
out Accents and Groans every time any of his Family are near their
Deaths. I smiled at this, as being doubtful of the Truth of such kind of
Relations: ‘You give not Credit to what I say,’ continued he, ‘neither
would I engage for the Truth of it, though all the Country thereabouts
are so fully perswaded of it, that you would be suspected for an
Heretick should you question it. But it is certain there is a Bell in
Arragon, in a small Town call’d Villilla, on the Ebre, which is about
fifty Foot compass, and it happens sometimes to sound of itself, it
being not perceiveable to be agitated by any Winds or Earthquakes: In a
word, by no visible thing. It first Tolls, and afterwards, by intervals,
Rings out, as well in the Day as the Night: When it is heard, it is not
doubted but it denounces some sad Accident; which is what happened in
1601, on Thursday the 13th of June, till Saturday the 15th of the same
Month; it ceased then to Ring, but it began again on Corpus Christi,
when they were on the point of making the Procession. It was heard
likewise when Alphonsus the Fifth, K. of Arragon, went into Italy to
take Possession of the Kingdom of Naples. It was heard at the Death of
Charles the Fifth. It denoted the Departure of Don Sebastion, King of
Portugal, for Africk. The Extremity of King Philip the Second: and the
Decease of his last Wife Q. Ann.’ ‘You would have me to believe you, Don
Fernand,’ said I; ‘Perhaps I shall seem too obstinate in standing out
all this while, but you will agree these are Matters one may lawfully
doubt of.’ ‘Nay, Madam,’ replied he, with a pleasant Air, ‘I tell you
nothing but what I can have a thousand Witnesses to justifie; but
perhaps you will sooner believe Don Esteve de Carvajal in a thing as
extraordinary in his Country.’ He at the same time call’d to him,
demanding of him, ‘Whether ’twere not true, that there is in the Convent
of Cordoüa a Clock which fails not to Ring every time a Religious is to
die; so that the time is known to a Day?’ Don Esteve confirm’d what Don
Fernand said: and though I remain’d not absolutely convinc’d, yet I made
a shew as if I was.
‘You pass so quickly through Old Castille,’ continued Don Fernand, ‘that
you will not have time to see what’s most remarkable: The Picture of the
Blessed Virgin is talkt of far and near, which was found miraculously
stampt on a Rock; it belongs to the Religio’s Augustines d’ Avila, and
several Persons go there out of Devotion; but one has no less Curiosity
to see certain Mines of Salt, which are near there, in a village call’d
Mengraville; you descend above two hundred Steps under Ground, and then
enter into a vast Cavern form’d by Nature, whose Top, or Roof, is upheld
by one only Pillar of Chrystalin Salt, of astonishing Largeness and
Colour. Near this place, in the Town of Soria, you see a great Bridge
without a River, and a great River without a Bridge, the River being
forc’d out of its place by an Earthquake.
[Illustration: Medina del Campo]
‘But if you go as far as Medina del Campo,’ added he, ‘I am sure the
Inhabitants will give you a welcome Entrance, only because you are of
the French Nation, whom they much affect, to distinguish themselves
hereby from the Sentiments of the other Castillians: Their Town is so
priviledg’d that the K. of Spain has not the Power to create any
Officers, nor the Pope to confer Benefices: this Right belongs to the
Townsmen, and they often fall together by the Ears, in the chusing of
their Magistrates and Ecclesiasticks.
‘One of the Rarities of this Country is the Aquaduct of Segovia, which
is five Leagues in length; it has above two hundred Arches of
extraordinary heighth, tho’ in several places there are two standing on
one another; and ’tis all built on Free Stone, there having been no
Mortar, or any Cement to joyn them: This is lookt on as one of the
Romans Works, or at least as worthy to be so. The River which is at the
end of the Town surrounds the Castle, and serves it for a Ditch; it is
built on a Rock. Among several things remarkable, you see the Effigies
of the Kings of Spain, who have Reign’d for several Years: And there is
no Town but Segovia and Seville where Money is Coyned, and the Pieces of
Eight which are made at the former Places are held to be the best; and
this is by means of the River which turns certain Mills that stamp the
Money. Here are likewise most curious Walks along a Meadow planted with
Elm Trees, whose Leaves are so thick and large, that the greatest Heats
of the Sun cannot pierce them.’ ‘I want not Curiosity,’ said I to him,
‘for all things which deserve it; but I at present want Time to see
them: However, I should be very glad to arrive timely at Burgos, to view
the Town.’ ‘Which is to say, Madam,’ replied Don Fernand, ‘we must lose
your Company, and let you retire.’
He gave notice thereof to the other Gentlemen, who gave over their Play,
and we thus separated.
I rose this Morning before Day; and I end this Letter at Burgos, where I
now arrived: Thus, Dear Cousin, I shall send you nothing of this Day,
but shall take the first occasion to acquaint you with what befals me.
Yours.
From Burgos,
Feb. 27, 1673.
LETTER IV