SEVILLE REVISITED
DECEMBER 1831-DECEMBER 1832
RETURN TO SEVILLE--EXECUTION OF TORRIJOS--QUESTION OF SPANISH
INTERVENTION IN THE AFFAIRS OF PORTUGAL--TARIFA--SALAMANCA AND
NORTH-WESTERN SPAIN--SUCCESSION TO THE SPANISH CROWN.
In December the Fords returned from the Alhambra to a house which they
had taken in the Calle de los Monsalvos at Seville. There they spent the
winter of 1831-2. A letter dated December 10th, 1831, announces their
return, and their life resumed its previous course.
We have at length arrived here safely, God be praised! through the
deepest ploughed fields, worst _Ventas_, and stoutest gangs of
robbers in all Spain. We have been six mortal days on the journey,
doing some 36 leagues at an expense of 6000 or 7000 reals, having
to feed 29 persons every night, ravenous wolves who never ate
before and probably never will again, unless some _Milor_ or
_Embajador_ should make that journey. José Maria was _muy
politico_, and neither the chink of my dollars nor the black eye
and red lip of Sarah could tempt him to come down from a hill,
where we saw him and his drawn up in a line about a mile off, as we
passed through _his_ country--his it is in every sense of the word.
When we passed through Jaen, we saw Don Carlos [Downie], who
regaled us with good English and better wine of the country, of
which he had prepared a choice barrel to be sent to your Excellency
_q. Dios guarde y Lord Palmerston_.
I have got into a magnificent house, larger even than yours, and
very comfortable in every respect. It belongs to the Mˢ. de la
Granja, who, I believe, is General O’Neil (being interpreted). If
so, make my respects to him, and tell him I will use it well, and
pay the rent duly and truly on the appointed days, and it is such a
rent as will enable him to cut a figure at the _Corte_. Don José
[O’Lawlor] invited us to dinner, to our great surprise; grand
dinner _de cent Couverts_, to meet fiscals and the Lord knows who;
the dinner not bad, as he is a wise man, and knows how to deal with
Englishmen.
Famous shooting here, I am told--snipe, woodcock, rabbit,
_chorlito_ [curlew or gray plover], _alcaravan_ [bittern],
bustards, etc. So if you like to put yourself in the _diligence_,
here is a _Casa_ at your _disposicion_, a warm, sunny suite of
rooms, and a decent bottle of sherry; an excellent clergyman, a
friend of mine, will provide you with books at a monthly
subscription. Captain Heaphy and his hairsplitting prigmatic friend
have, thank God! passed through into the keeping of that great man,
Don Brackenbury. I met the Polish polished Russian Cheffhttinschkwi
on his way up to the Alhambra. I could be of no use to him
_unfortunately_, as I was going to leave the town the next morning.
Captain Martin and Sir Eden are daily expected here. The _Gallego_
Standish has bought two pictures here at tremendous prices--a
Murillo £400, a Velazquez £200.
Have you ascertained the exact use of those curious spears we saw
in the Armeria? I conclude, when you have, you will draw on me by
the hands of that worthy Israelite, Don Ravarra or Ravisa (I forget
which, though often lectured for it by you), and I will duly honour
the bill.
My wife begs to thank you for the good-natured way you put up with
the inconvenience a marital pair must have inflicted on your B.A.
habits.
_Dec. 27, 1831._
My wife is very far from well, in a sad state of nervousness and
weakness, the result of over-excitement in travelling and
over-exertions in drawing in the Alhambra. The doctors leave all to
_naturaleza_ and asses’ milk, having a congenial feeling for that
animal.
Sir Eden and Captain Martin are here, having taken up their winter
quarters in Seville.
I am only awaiting an answer from my landlord, General O’Neil, to
put up a fireplace in the Quarto, which is destined for my
_despacho_ [office] and for your habitation when you come here in
the spring. I wished to make a necessary, a roasting jack, and this
fireplace, three things rather usual, and thought in England to be
rather necessary, in large houses. I have had great difficulty with
the _administrador_, who, after offering me his house, kissing my
hand, and laying himself at my wife’s feet, proceeded rather to
protest against these innovations, viewing them in the light of
dilapidations, especially the _comun_, which he assured me no
_clean Spaniard_ would use, as they preferred a pan in their
bedrooms, and that, when I left the house, he should be at the
expense of restoring matters to their former state of comfort and
cleanliness.
The jack, however, is up, and the turkeys are roasting.
The weather is delicious, fine clear sky, 66 and 67 in the sun,
open windows and doors, and plenty of dry crackling olive-wood
(cheap) for the mornings and evenings.
Don Julian [Williams] in great force, in a consular coat with G.R.
buttons, which would shame an ambassador. We are going to Cadiz
(Don Julian and I) on a visit to a still greater man, Don Brackʸ.,
to taste sherry at Xeres, and look after a few pictures. The
Alhambra we left in a _cruel_ state of repair, the _Patio de
Leones_ and _Sala de los Abencerrages_ one mass of ruin, rubbish,
and dirt. They are re-tiling the whole of it, and the ladders of
the _presidarios_ [convicts] are every day knocking off part of the
delicate stucco work. The Governor is going to repair the wall, and
remove the garden from the _Patio_. They say the powder will be
removed from the Palace of Carlos V. As the Spaniards do not work
with the rapidity of lightning, I take it a stray _Rayo_ may get
the start of them, and send old Frascita and Dolorosita to the
devil.
Once more political troubles disturbed Ford’s peace. So long as General
Torrijos remained safe in his refuge at Gibraltar, he was a source of
uneasiness to the Government. A trap was set to lure him to Spanish
soil. A former friend, General Vicente Gonsalez Moreno, Captain-General
of Malaga, opened a correspondence with him, professing Liberal
sympathies, and promising the support of the troops. With about fifty
companions, among whom was a young Irishman named Robert Boyd, Torrijos
landed near Malaga, December 4th, 1831. Moreno was prepared for their
arrival. The farmhouse in which the party sheltered for the night was
surrounded by soldiers. Resistance was useless, and Torrijos and his
friends surrendered the following morning. Six days later, Sunday,
December 11th, all the prisoners were drawn up on the beach below the
Carmen Convent at Malaga, and shot. Moreno was rewarded by being made
Captain-General of Granada. Disgraced by Queen Christina, he
subsequently joined the Carlists, and was murdered at Urdax, September
6th, 1839, by some Navarrese soldiers, in the act of escaping to France.
It is said that he begged for a confessor and a brief respite. The only
answer to his prayer was that he should have such mercy as he had
himself shown to Torrijos, and he was instantly bayoneted and shot.
Every reasonable effort was made by Mark, Addington, and Lord
Palmerston, to save Robert Boyd. But it was in vain. Boyd was the first
person buried in the Protestant cemetery outside Malaga, to the east of
the town. Up to this time Protestants who died at Malaga were buried on
the sea-shore beyond low-water mark. The new burial ground, laid out by
Mark, the British Consul, was the first spot in Spain which the
authorities allowed to be enclosed for the interment of heretics.
The death of Torrijos relieved the Government from one danger. But
another cause of anxiety arose. Spain threatened to intervene in the
affairs of Portugal. In April 1831 Dom Pedro resigned the throne of
Brazil, and returned to Europe to vindicate the Constitutional Charter,
and restore to his daughter, Maria da Gloria, the crown which the
Regent, her uncle, Dom Miguel, had seized. In July 1832 Pedro occupied
Oporto, and held it for a year against all the attacks of Dom Miguel,
both by land and sea. Spain at first favoured the cause of Miguel and
the Absolutists. Her army of observation was assembling on the frontier;
armed intervention seemed imminent. But the health of Ferdinand VII. was
failing fast. At his death, it was plain that the crown would be claimed
by Don Carlos, who was in avowed sympathy with Miguel. Christina saw
that she must rally to her daughter’s support the Spanish Moderates, and
she was disinclined to aid the Portuguese Government to crush the party
on which she herself was relying in Spain. Thus the danger of war was
averted.
_Janʸ. 11, 1832_, SEVILLA.
I have had a magnificent, _grandis Epistola_ from Mark, who is gone
wild about the Malaga events, and the execution of Mr. Boyd. In his
heart, I believe he was as glad as a young surgeon to get a subject
for his new churchyard. He certainly has a hankering after my
wife’s body, not her live body, but, hearing of her ill health,
tried all in his power to get me to Malaga to have a pretty female
specimen in his sepulchral museum. I must try and get you a copy
of a letter, which is circulating here, from one of the monks of
the convent, where the victims were taken, to a friend here. Mark
is mentioned as coming in a _coche_ in uniform to take Mr. Boyd’s
body, over which he read prayers. Mark’s Epistle concludes with
crumbs of comfort for you. “No man of honour can be otherwise than
disgusted in serving near such men as are seen in command here, and
I shall use all possible means in my power _to quit the country_ as
soon as it can be done.” _Feliz viage y vaya v. con Dios_. Meantime
he threatens me with a visit, _cum duodecim Marcis_, pretty dears,
who will certainly convey their sweet persons to the _Fonda_, as I
can’t take in woman-kind.
The weather is most delicious here, sunny and balmy, and winter is
gone. I am meditating a shooting excursion with Martin and Eden,
not having the fear of José Maria in my eyes. I understand the
officers kidnapped near Gibraltar have paid the fine; they had much
better cross over to Africa, where both travelling and shooting,
and indeed all the comforts of civilised life, are much more easily
obtained than in Spain.
José Maria has sent to Quesada, offering to give up business on
being secured a pardon; I suspect he has sold the _goodwill_ of his
vocation to his second in command, one Juan Cavallero. Quesada
told me this, and that he took no notice of the application.
Everybody here outrageous at Don Moreno and the _Deshonra_ on
Spanish _buena fé_!! The English papers you are so beneficent as to
send me, as usual, are gone stark staring crazy about Don Boyd.
Certainly, if anybody of the party deserved shooting, it is a
meddling _Foreigner_, who must have known the existence of the
decree under which all rebels, taken _in flagrante delicto_, were
liable to summary punishment.
I have taken no steps about your wine yet, as the dealer has shown
somewhat of the _Moreno_, a little _mala fé_, in some transactions
I have had with him. I hope soon to go to Xeres, and will then
taste all the wines in all the cellars, till I am carried off dead
drunk.
My wife does not mend, and I am rather uneasy about her, and shall
be more so, if this delightful change of weather does nothing. I
shall take her down to Cadiz and try sea air, _sub consule Branco_,
who is detained at Gibraltar, not daring to go by land, as, if they
could catch a _consul_, they would ask more ransom than for the
whole staff of Sir Houston.
We are all crazy here about pictures, such buying and selling. By
the time Mecænas Standish and that eminent connoisseur, Captain
Cook, arrive, the market will be cleaned out. Sir William Eden is
_muy pegajoso_ and _bizarro_ [very attractive and full of spirits].
I did not suspect that he was such an amateur and collector. In
short, we are buying things here at double what they are worth in
England.
I have received splendid letters from the Mˢ de la Granja and his
_sobrino_, the Colonel. The Marques in a sad way about the
dilapidations of jacks, fireplaces, and _comun_, damned English
revolutionary nuisances. The poor _administrador_ quite frantic
about changes in a house, which had remained in genuine discomfort
since the days of the Moors,--an argument he thought to put me and
my fire out with. “If,” says he, “these things had been wanted, the
very great families who always have lived here would have done
them.”
Meantime, whenever you like to come here, you can really be
decently lodged and fed, and return by Badajoz and Talavera, a very
interesting route.
We are expecting the Conde de los Andes here from Granada, where
Don Moreno, the “complete Spanish letter writer,” goes to replace
him.
_Saturday 14th_ [_Jan. 1832_], SEVILLA.
I think I can assure you, on the best authority, that no troops
have been sent from this place, or from hereabouts, to the
Portuguese frontier, and that, rather, they are diminishing than
increasing their forces, disbanding the militia regiments. At the
cannon foundry they are occupied more in repairs than in casting
cannon. I believe they have about a hundred pieces ready, with
carriages, etc., etc.
Here all is, as usual, perfectly quiet and tranquil, I have seen
several persons this day, all of whom give the same account of the
absence of all military movements.
There has been a fulsome address voted by the Chapter of the
Cathedral of Malaga to Don Moreno, which, with his reply, has been
printed. I am sorry Don Julio O’Niel considers me so troublesome;
but he will think otherwise when the term expires and he loses so
good a tenant and so excellent a rent. He has a sad character here
as to money matters, and as for his _administrador_ he is still
more; _arcades ambo_.
We have had very fine weather lately, and I am meditating a week’s
shooting with Los Señores Eden and Martin, as we hear rare accounts
of the woodcocks.
My wife does not mend. The doctors come daily, take their fee, and
say all must be _dejado a la Naturaleza_. Of what use are they,
then?
I am sorry you see so many clouds brewing for the Easter week, as
we shall have a dull Carnival, and none of the Saints and
Saintesses will come out in the streets. Even war will be better
than the cholera.
I have no news here. The days glide on in a sort of _far niente_,
with the tinkling of my wife’s guitar, and the crying of my
nursery, all of whose teeth have taken to plague them and their
parents. These are blessings you know not. _Fortunati nimium._
_Feb. 1 [1832]_, SEVILLA.
Captain Martin and Eden are setting out for Badajoz and Lisbon,
where they will probably get into some disagreeable scrape; rather
a bad time to visit Portugal, to say nothing of the wet rain and
cold Ventas.
We have an arrival of three officers from the garrison, two of
which were of the party taken up into the mountains by José Maria,
who wanted to rob them again, as, hearing they were at Xeres, he
proceeded yesterday to rob the _diligence_, thinking to catch them;
but they had luckily taken the steamer. This is a serious system
for travellers, now he finds the English will pay handsome ransoms.
There is an order come here to prepare thirty cannon _forthwith_.
The number they have quite ready, with men, mules, etc., is not
above eight or ten; but I am told, if money was forthcoming, they
could soon get ready above a hundred. No troops have moved from
this place.
The Conde de los Andes has not arrived here yet; I heard from Don
José [O’Lawlor], who is now performing the functions of
Captain-General at Granada, that Dionysia is rather ailing.
We are all here going on in the usual humdrum way, _sin novedad_,
and without any news. The weather mild and open. The swallows
flying about, and the storks looking out for lodgings on the church
towers, all of which, the learned say, is a sign that winter is
over.
I am expecting Shirreff from Gibraltar, to occupy the _Sala del
Embajador_ in my _Palacio_, where I hope in the summer you will
come and take up your quarters. They tell me this is a most
delicious summer house, and that Seville and the _Andaluças_ should
be seen in the genial month of May or June.
SEVILLA, _Wednesday, 15 Feb. 1832_.
They are all in a bustle here with _warlike_ movements and
preparations; artillery ordered off to Badajoz, infantry and
cavalry to Salamanca. I heard to-day that the militia regiments and
the Royalists are to be called out. Some of the troops went
to-day, and others are to follow to-morrow. The _partidas_ [parties
of soldiers] which were in _José Maria’s_ country are coming in,
and _he_ will then be _de facto_ absolute king of the countries
between Cadiz, Sevilla, and Granada. They say General Monet, of
Algeciras, a General O’Donnel, and the Captain-General of
Valladolid, are to command this _cordon sanitaire_ on the frontiers
of Portugal. All this will probably be stale news to you. I do not
think they can send much very effective stuff from hence, either in
cavalry, artillery, or troops. The _pesetas_ are unusually scarce,
and the _derechos de Puerta_ [tolls, _octrois_] weighing everybody
down. The Conde de los Andes has been here for a few days, and is
now gone back to his Quartel at Cadiz. Captain Martin and Sir
William Eden will be in the thick of the row, as they started some
ten days ago for Badajoz, with the intention of going on to
Portugal. If they fall into the hands of that truculent youth, Dom
Miguel, you will have to claim them, if alive, and Mark, if dead,
for his new burying ground. That eminent undertaker is on his way
to visit _me_ and Seville. I am much honoured, and only regret that
you should not be here to gain a “few hints” as to governing
Spaniards.
I am quite sorry that you are bothered with so many
“suspicious-looking letters” for me. They are quite as unwelcome to
me. One of them was from a Valentian _azulejo_ [tile] manufacturer,
begging me to intercede with you to get him an order for painted
tiles from the Grand Señor at Constantinople. Many thanks for the
papers. The debate very interesting. Lord Aberdeen seems to be gone
demented, and the great Duke, if weak in body, perfectly sound in
his intellect. I suspect my friends the Whigs are rather at a
discount. There must be a screw loose. The only good of all these
_trastornos_ [disturbances] is the exchange on England being so
delightfully low. They are, here and at Cadiz, looking out for
bills on England, it is said, to remit them to Lisbon.
My wife is busy as ever with the Alhambra, and is a little better,
but still most wretchedly thin and weak.
_Saturday_, SEVILLA [_21 Feb. 1832_].
I enclose you an exact account of the military movements which have
taken place here; you will receive the same account by next post
from a _greater man_ from Cadiz. This is a copy of what Don Julian
writes to him this post; but, as possibly it may interest you to
have even this information without loss of time, I send it you
also.
Don Julian (who is the best of God’s creatures)
[Illustration: PATIO DE LA MEZQUITA.
[_To face p. 82._
Drawn by Harriet Ford, 1832.
]
never likes troubling any one, still less so great a man as your
Excellency, as his instructions are to correspond with Don
Brakenbury, otherwise he would, in these sort of cases, write
directly to you.
The weather here is delicious, like English October. Ronda Hills
are covered with snow, which is unusual: Don José writes from
Granada that the Vega is wrapt in a fleecy mantle and the Picacho
inaccessible. Captain Cook duly arrived _per diligence_; we shall
shortly forward him to Cadiz. I wish I could say as much of Don
Mark, who is expected.
My spouse mends very slowly; I wish she got on as well as the
Alhambra _azulejo_ drawings.
(ENCLOSURE.)
Wednesday, the 15th inst. (February 1832). Part of the Escuadron de
Artilleria Volante left this city for Valencia de Alcantara by the
Badajoz road, consisting of
4 pieces (8-pounders),
8 furgones (artillery waggons),
1 fragua (forge),
with the Escuadron maniobrero del Regimento de Caballeria del
Principe, consisting of 115 men, well mounted, for the same
destination.
Thursday, the 16th inst. The 2nd battalion of the Regimenᵗᵒ de
Ynfanteria de Africa 6º de Linea left this for Madrid, consisting
of nearly 900 men, including officers, having been completed with
men taken from the 1st and 3rd battalions.
Observations. The Escuadron de Artilleria Volante, which consists
of 12 pieces, for want of horses, could only send off the 4 pieces
above-mentioned, although the orders were for the entire Escuadron
to proceed to Valencia de Alcantara. Exertions are making to get it
completed, that it may be able to proceed.
The Regimᵗᵒ de Caballeria del Principe, although it consists of
above 300 men, could send only 115, also for want of horses.
The 1st and 3rd battalions of the Regimᵗᵒ de Ynfanteria de Africa,
remaining here, have only from 300 to 400 men, and the battalion
that has gone to Madrid, it is said, will be replaced by one
battalion of Ynfanteria de la Regna, which is to come from Ceuta.
The Regimᵗᵒ Provincial de Sevilla is to be called together as soon
as shoes and various articles of clothing, of which they are much
in want, can be got ready.
At the end of February, 1832, Ford started alone on a riding expedition
through the south-west corner of Spain, visiting Tarifa, Algeciras,
Xeres, and Ronda. The story of Tarifa is the one great incident in the
wretched reign of Sancho IV., called _El Bravo_, King of Castile and
Leon (1284-1295). The castle had been taken in 1292 by Alonzo Perez de
Guzman, who held it against the Moors. His only son, a child of nine,
was brought under the walls of the castle by the Infante Juan, a
traitor and renegade. Juan threatened to kill the boy if Guzman would
not surrender to the Moors. Guzman drew his own dagger, threw it down to
Juan, and replied, “Better is honour without a son than a son with
dishonour.” The boy was murdered before the father’s eyes; but the
castle remained in Christian hands. King Sancho rewarded the defender
with the “canting” name of _El Bueno_, and with all the lands between
the Guadalete and the Guadairo. From Guzman sprang the family of Medina
Sidonia, who take their ducal title from the name of a hill fort some
twenty miles from Cadiz.
SEVILLA, _March 31, 1832_.
Since I wrote last, I have been scampering over the mountains of
Ronda, not having the fear of José Maria in my eyes. I went first
to Cadiz to see the consular pictures and drink the consular
sherry, both very fine, _cosas de gran gusto_. Thence by Vejer to
Tarifa to see the castle of Guzman _el Bueno_, and the eye of many
a dark Tarifenia. They go about there, as they do at Tangiers,
covering their faces with a black _manta_; one black eye shines out
and goes clean through one like a bullet. Thence to Gibraltar,
where your despatches have set the General and his staff on the
alert, and the dogs of war are looking forward to be slipped. The
first thing General Houston told me was how he regretted that
General Monet[26] _had left Algeciras for Seville_, which was news
to me who had come from Algeciras that morning, and was going back
to dine with the said General Monet. General Monet, all pacific,
and, as he has had some experience as to what took place in the
last business, his opinion was a fair set-off against _el ingles_.
However, they know as much about Spain in Gibraltar as people in
Plymouth do about Algeciras, or those in Algeciras about Plymouth.
I was strongly advised by all my friends on the Rock not to venture
back into Spain, but send forthwith for my family. I did, however,
venture, and proceeded to Ronda, through a wild mountain country,
full of smugglers and robbers (though one implies the other). The
ride was very striking. The old Moorish towns with Moorish names
perched like the nests of eagles on almost inaccessible pinnacles.
Indeed, they are still Moors, talking Spanish. Ronda, with its
_tajo_ or cleft between the old town and the new one, is a thing
worth being robbed in order to have seen.
Thence to Xeres through Grazalema, the hotbed of José Maria and
_contrabandistas_. I there had a long interview with Frasquito de
la Torre and his eleven robbers. They are now all _hombres de
bien_, _indultados y en persecucion de los malhechores_; they have
undertaken to clear Andalucia of _Ladrones_, a plant that all the
armed agriculturists in Europe will never weed from so fertile a
soil; a fine set of picturesque well-dressed _Majos_. I had,
however, six soldiers given me by General Monet, and would have
shown fight; but they showed me all sort of civility, giving me
wine and presenting me to their wives, who are not worth our pretty
_Sevillañas_. Thence to Xeres, full of sherry, which is better
discussed out of a decanter than in an epistle. The Duke of San
Lorenzo has a magnificent Alcazar there, and, were I him, I should
cut Madrid, and take to drinking dry Amontillado in my Moorish
palace.
Mrs. O’Lawlor has presented the General with a little girl, born on
the 25th. Don Carlos Downie has presented him with twenty-four
robbers from the neighbourhood of Jaen, who will be duly hung, _si
Dios quiere_.
All the authorities here, Arjona, Quesada, General Flegres (these
two know something about the Raya [frontier] de Portugal), are
quite confident about peace, and that Spain will not interfere. I
hope you will give me a hint, _verbum sapienti et ab Sapiente_, as
to when you think the climate of Gibraltar more favourable for the
welfare of my family than that of Seville.
We have Captain Cook here. Sʳ. Eden has just returned from Lisbon.
Everything most perfectly quiet there. He was much struck by the
admirable appearance of the Portuguese troops. Pedro will get a
licking if he does not look sharp. I should not be sorry, who want
to remain another year in Spain; and then they may both go to
_Carrajo_ or _the Carracas_, or wherever and whenever they like.
All perfectly quiet at Badajoz.
I find my wife very unwell and in great anxiety about the little
baby (who was born at Seville last year). It has been alarmingly
ill within these few days, and I fear there is not much chance that
it will live. I am the more distressed on my wife’s account, as it
has thrown her back very much, and intercepted the slow progress of
her recovery.
As the following letter shows (May 12th) Ford did not remain long in
Seville. Two months were spent in an expedition along the frontier of
Spain and Portugal and in the north from Lugo to Bilbao. The first part
of his road took him by Merida, with its magnificent Roman remains, over
the Tagus by the famous bridge at Alcantara, through Placencia to
Salamanca. From Placencia he rode over the hills to the Jeronymite
Convent of San Yuste, where Charles V., empire-sick, retired to die
(September 21st, 1558). In the same neighbourhood and also visited by
Ford, was the square-built palace of Abadia, where the Duke of Alva
withdrew from public life, in the society of Lope de Vega, to lay out
his gardens in terraces and adorn them with Italian statuary.
SEVILLA, _May 12, 1832._
I am going to set out to-morrow for Zafra and Merida, and thence
through Placencia, Alcantara, Ciudad Rodrigo to Salamanca, where I
shall finish my education. If I see anything _interesting_ to you
on the _Raya_ of Portugal I will take care and forward a despatch.
If this finds you in Madrid, you will much oblige me by letting
Alphonso walk to that arch-Hebrew, Ravassa, to desire him to send
me a credit on Ciudad Rodrigo, Salamanca and Valladolid, and write
to me at Ciudad Rodrigo the names of the bankers. You may remember
what a state of poverty and destitution the Jew left me in at
Zaragoça for want of diplomatic _garantias_. I have written to the
circumcised dog this post. When I reach Salamanca, I shall settle
my future plans. Much will depend on whether the cholera should
take a fancy about that time to travel in Spain, in which case I
shall get back here through Madrid as quickly as I can, as I would
rather meet José Maria than the Cholera.
My wife has relinquished all thoughts of leaving Seville this
spring, as our last baby continues in rather a precarious state,
and she is unwilling to leave him; otherwise we should have gone
to Malaga and Granada. Seville is free from English; Heaphy _el
feroz_, and O’Meara _el Majadero_ [gawk], (what a knack they have
at _soubriquets_!) are gone to Murcia; S Eden and Martin _per_
steamer to England; Cook and Baring return to Madrid on Thursday.
They have been detained here by another ball I have been giving, to
the horror of the _dévotes_, during the _Rogativas_, for which,
they say, all those who attended will be carried off by a
particular and express cholera. Meantime the ball was very well
attended; and by most beautiful and bewitching _Andaluças_, as
Baring and Cook will tell you. By the way, we are expecting the
famous French dandy, Charles de Mornay, who is coming from Morocco,
where he has been as _Plenipo_. He will enlighten the Madrid
dandies by some outlandish Paris coat _couleur de cholera morbus_;
if you fall in with him, and can get over his outward appearance,
you will find him very tolerable. He is an acquaintance of mine,
and friend of my wife, which may be predicated of all his English
_connoissances_.
SALAMANCA, _June 6 [1832]_.
Here I am in this venerable university, completing my education,
and endeavouring to make amends for the sad waste of time during
the years mis-spent at Oxford in earning the honour of a M.A. This
peaceful habitation of the Muses is disturbed by the piping of the
fife and the beating of the “soul-stirring” drum. The empty
colleges are filled with soldiers, who are inscribing on the walls
_carrajo_, and the usual words by which that class of people show
their proficiency in the art of writing.
Everything very quiet in Portugal; in Merida there may be 400 or
500 men; in Placencia as many cuirassiers; in Ciudad Rodrigo a
company of artillery and about 1200 men. Here there are artillery
from Seville, some cavalry, and altogether about 4000 to 4500 men.
This army on the frontier, including Badajoz, I should state as
under 10,000. They are very well appointed in all respects, and
seem fine troops--full, however, of _quintas_ [balloted men] and
young lads.
I have seen much of General Sarsfield, which is more than anybody
else has. He seems to think that there is no chance of anything
taking place in Portugal, except in case of a general war.
This is a charming old town. I have been over the field of battle.
The identical guide who was with Lord Wellington lives still in
Arapiles.[27] Would you believe it? not a single Spaniard, though
they have been here two months, has ever been over to see the scene
of battle. They, I suppose, know full well how very little they had
to do with it.
I have been wandering over the mountains to the mines of Rio Tinto,
to Zafra and Merida, and thence across the uninhabited plain of
Estremadura to Alcantara, a magnificent Roman bridge in a most
picturesque situation, reminding me much of Toledo. Thence through
Coria to Placencia, and to the convent of Yuste, where Charles V.
died. The monks received me with great hospitality, lodged me in
the imperial quarters, and gave me a bed in the room in which
Charles died, and I did not see his ghost.
Thence through Capara (a beautiful Roman arch) to Abadia, a ruined
palace of the great Duke of Alva. Thence over the mountains through
the romantic valley of Jurdes to the celebrated convent of Las
Batuecas, a mountain scene of the grandest description. Thence to
the ruined town of Ciudad Rodrigo, and so on to Salamanca; where I
have been living much with the Prior, a great ally of the Duke of
Wellington, and who furnished him with the most important
intelligence during the war. I am now going to Benavente, thence to
Santiago, Oviedo, Leon, and so to Madrid, _viá_ Burgos and
Valladolid. Please God, I hope to arrive in the _Corte_ early in
July.
Pray be so kind as to put aside the Galignanis since May, as these
are most interesting times, and I am longing to read the debates.
If I can be of any service, _manda V. E. con toda franqueza a su
criado_; and write either to Lugo, Oviedo, or Leon, in case you
wish anything done in the mountains or a prayer said for your sins
at Compostella.
I have good accounts of my wife at Seville, who is broiling while I
am shivering under the blasts of Castille, attended with cold and
rain--worse weather than the most inclement June in England. Sad
work for an artist, as the wind blows one’s paper to rags and the
rain wets it through, to say nothing of the chance of being shot as
a spy or laid in the Red Sea as the ghost of Mr. Boyd.
MADRID, _Thursday [July 13, 1832]_.
I arrived here this morning, having left Bilbao on Tuesday, which
is not bad work this warm weather. I am very sorry not to meet you
here, to talk over my pilgrimage and travels, which have been
rather interesting. I have been absent from my spouse and children
so long that my marital and paternal feelings are getting impatient
for Seville, where I hope to arrive next week, leaving this
_Corte_ on Tuesday by the _Malle de Poste_. This is an excellent
and most rapid mode of travelling, as we came from Vitoria nearly a
gallop all the way. I hope this autumn, if Dom Pedro allows you,
that you will come down and look at our pretty Sevillanas.
I have been looking over the batch of Galignanis, and have many
thanks to give you for having preserved them for me; any you can
henceforth spare for Seville pray send me. I saw nothing worth
writing to you about on my tour in political matters. There are
about two thousand men at Zamora, and, altogether, I should reckon
the Spanish force to be about twelve thousand men--good troops and
well appointed with everything. The general feeling everywhere is
that they will not pass the frontier.
MADRID, _Tuesday, 17th [July 1832]_.
I am off this night _per Malle de Poste_ to Seville. I am very
sorry that we have not met in Madrid, but hope in the autumn we may
meet in the marble court of my house in the sweet south. You will
do well to come down and dissipate a little after your fatigues
with Dom Pedro. _Dulce est desipere_ in Seville. Will you be so
kind as to forward the enclosed to the Duke of Wellington, whenever
you have a safe conveyance? It contains a letter which a friend of
his gave me at Salamanca.
A Mr. Lewis,[28] a clever artist whose father I know well, has been
recommended to me by Henry Wellesley. He is about to make a sort of
picturesque tour of Spain, having orders for young ladies’ albums
and from divers booksellers who are illustrating Lord Byron. Will
you be so good as to get his passport _viséd_ in manner that he may
not be shot or hung as a spy? I think, if it were _viséd_ in your
Embassy in Spanish, it would be quite sufficient in a sort of form
like this:--
“El contenido artista Ingles viaja en España con el unico objeto de
estudiar y debujar y siendo sujeto de confianse se le recommienda a
las auctoridades civiles y militares de su Transitu.”
I had a sort of _visé_ like this from Quesada, which operated like
magic. To be sure, they took me for your Excellency in disguise, or
at least for a Field-Marshal. This place is very hot, dusty and
glaring, and I shall be glad to repose under my orange trees and
vines in the shade, and listen to the splashing of waters, the
domestic details of my spouse, and the crying of my children, all
which pass a single gentleman’s belief.
I see nothing new except the Velazquez, which are more
extraordinary every time I meet them.
Ford missed seeing Addington at Madrid, because the Ambassador was in
attendance on the Court at La Granja, where momentous events were taking
place which affected the destiny of Spain for the next half-century.
In May 1713 the first Bourbon King of Spain, Philip V., had decreed the
establishment of a modified form of the Salic law of succession. Women
were not absolutely excluded from the throne; but, only if male heirs
failed, could they succeed to it. As the law stood, thus modified, Don
Carlos, the brother of Ferdinand VII., was the legal heir, rather than
Ferdinand’s daughter Isabella.
But in 1789, on the accession of Charles IV., the Cortes was summoned to
take the oath of allegiance. When they assembled, the President informed
them that the King desired them to exercise their constitutional rights,
and to request him to decree the abolition of the Salic law of 1713. The
restoration of the old Spanish law of succession, which allowed females
to succeed, failing male heirs of the same degree, was welcome to a
nation which remembered the reign of Queen Isabella. The Cortes
therefore begged Charles IV. to abolish the Salic law and to restore the
ancient rule. But the enactment was never perfected by publication.
Early in 1830 Ferdinand VII. had hopes of a child. It was therefore
determined to act on the address of the Cortes of 1789, and to publish
the decree. Accordingly, in March 1830, the decree was solemnly
proclaimed at Madrid; the Salic law was abolished, and the ancient rule
of succession restored. By this change Don Carlos could only succeed if
Ferdinand remained childless; if a child were born to him, whatever its
sex, it inherited the throne. Isabella was born in October 1830, and a
second daughter in January 1832. But the King’s health made it probable
that he would have no further issue, and round the legality of the
decree of 1830 centred the intrigues of two masterful women, Maria
Francisca of Braganza, the wife of Don Carlos, and Carlota of Naples,
the wife of Ferdinand’s younger brother, Francisco de Paula.
At the end of the summer of 1832 Ferdinand seemed to be dying. Queen
Christina was nursing him at La Granja. Young and inexperienced, worn
out with fatigue, she was no match for the reactionary Ministers who
surrounded her husband. Their advice was plain and urged with
persistency. If the decree of 1830 were not repealed, Spain would be
torn by civil war, and deluged with blood. The King yielded. In
September 1832, on what was supposed to be his death-bed, he signed a
secret document, revoking his decree, restoring the Salic law, and thus
constituting Don Carlos heir to the throne.
The news reached Dona Carlota among the bull-fights and receptions in
Andalusia which Ford describes. She hurried to Madrid, vehemently
reproached Calomarde, the Minister of Justice, extorted from him the
document, tore it to shreds, and soundly boxed his ears. Calomarde,
utterly cowed, could only murmur, “White hands, Madam, can never
dishonour.” The King recovered. New Ministers were appointed. The old
ones were dismissed. The Captains-General were displaced by men of more
moderate views. Thus Quesada was appointed to Madrid, the Marques de las
Amarillas to Andalusia, the Conde de España replaced by Llauder at
Barcelona, and Moreno removed from Granada. The Liberals were amnestied.
In March 1833 Don Carlos was permitted to retire to Portugal, and in the
following June Isabella received the oath of allegiance as Princess of
the Asturias and heiress to the crown of Spain.
SEVILLA, _Aug. 1 [1832]_.
My poor little baby (who has been a year struggling against the
organic injury received by his fall in the Alhambra) on Monday
evening was released from its continual and cruel sufferings, and
has been buried in the orange garden of San Diego, where the
remains of those English who die in this distant land are gathered
together. (I doubt if Mark will ever forgive me.)
This melancholy event, though long anticipated, has upset my wife
more than I should have expected. I found her on my return very
much improved in health, and looking much better than she has ever
done this last three years--quite fat and stout.
José Maria is now a _hombre de bien_, living like an honest
gentleman retired from an honourable and laborious profession,
enjoying the _otium cum dignitate_, the rich reward of meritorious
industry in Estefa. About forty gentlemen in his line have been
received into the society of honest Spaniards by an ample
_indulto_. The roads are in consequence quite safe for the present,
as long as the uneasy virtue of these gentlemen continues. It is
just possible that we may spend our autumn in Granada, and the
winter under the protection of Marco _el grande_, who is always the
conqueror. Malaga is a _rinconcillo_ [small corner] we have never
seen, and I am anxious to go over to Africa in the spring to see
the _real Moors_. Many thanks for the Galignanis, which tell us
something about Messrs. Peter and Miguel, a pretty pair, as the
Devil said. I suppose that thing must by this time be ended. Would
the cholera were!
We have a man here, fresh from London, who says nobody there pays
the slightest attention to it, and if there were no newspapers its
presence would be unnoticed.
The Infante[29] has been here, seeing bull-fights. The Infanta
very sulky, ugly, and cross, and insulting the Sevillanas. They
were coldly received, and at one time hissed (not kissed) in the
Plaza. The Alcazar is exquisite. What a palace it is now, hung with
the finest pictures in Seville, and furnished with the most
beautiful and costly furniture, old plate, etc., lent by the
principal families, all those who have saved anything since the war
of _de_pendence! The sheets on the bed, costing 5000 Rs., like Lady
Holland’s, edged with lace, and for the repose of such carcasses!
The consequence is that we flesh-eaters are paying the penalty of
these fooleries, two _cuartos_[30] having been added to the pound
of meat, and a tax here (and elsewhere), once put on, is never
taken off.
SEVILLA, _Aug. 22, 1832_.
We are now full of warlike reports; Juntas of _Realistas_; four
thousand are to march from this province, and two hundred
_valientissimos_ from Sevilla, who will eat Dom Pedro in a
_Gaspacho_ [a cold vegetable soup].
They say that the Spaniards are determined to interfere, which will
very much interfere with my remaining in Spain; but I hope, if you
think the horizon cloudy and bad for a gentleman’s health, that
you will give me a timely hint, to get a little sea-bathing at
Gibraltar.
Spaniards deal so much in hyperbole, that one never knows what to
believe; they say that you and the Frenchman have taken down your
arms (if the Frenchman did his tombstones and cocks it would be no
bad thing). They also say that Sartorius[31] has taken Dom Miguel’s
ships, all except the large one. These news came per London
steamer. However, the _Realistas_ are certainly in a bustle; of
that there can be no doubt, and it looks warlike. God help poor
fallen Spain! The cholera and a French army marching in at once,
and the plentiful crop of weeds which will sprout up out of the
earth, like the armed men of Cadmus. The Liberals and discontented
are overjoyed; they are like Mother Cary’s chickens, which only
come out when there are symptoms of foul and dirty weather.
I wish Dom Pedro was hung in the _Tripas_ of Dom Miguel, as the
Spaniards say of the English and French.
Many thanks for your passport for Don Luis. He has written a letter
to me, full of thanks for your good nature to him, and will no
doubt draw your portrait _gratis_.
We have nothing new here. Colonel Buller talking incessantly and
unceasingly of his uniform; if he does not make haste, they will
declare war before he gets it. His friend Mr. Horner sits in a
corner.
There have been magnificent doings at the Alhambra, and I hear that
Dionysia’s dress and magnificence are the talk of the town.
Travelling is quite safe, as José Maria is looking after the
robbers instead of being looked after.
SEVILLA, _Sept. 19 [1832]_.
By desire of Don José I enclose you an account of the gay doings in
the Alhambra in honour of His Serene Highness Don Francisco de
Paula. You may depend upon it that, in knocking up their trumpery
lamps and chandeliers, they have cruelly injured the beautiful
Moorish stucco, and probably have whitewashed over the little
remnants of its former gilding.
We have the supreme felicity of being honoured by the royal
presence, and have had a grand bull-fight (the cause and effect),
given by the Maestranza,[32] in which Don Rafael Gusman (a
descendant of Gusman _el Bueno_) killed a bull, who, in his dying
spring, bounded over the barrier and died between it and the
spectators, a _lance_ [a lucky event] considered by the
_aficionados_ [enthusiasts] as _algo raro_ [somewhat unusual], and
much applauded by His Highness and the _Majos_ of Seville. This
occupies much conversation, of course, and Dom Pedro and the
cholera are at a discount. As to Doms Miguel and Pedro, even the
Spaniards are disgusted at their want of fight. What two
blackguards, to disturb the peace of the Peninsula!
Everybody here is satisfied that the King is to spend the winter in
Seville, and to set out as soon as he can be moved, as they make
him out to be very ill. Meantime Gutierrez the painter, who is in
high favour in Court (drawing _two hundred_ heads of the servants,
attendants, etc., in a blank book of the Queen’s), describes the
King as coming in and being very affable and good-humoured.
We have no news whatever. Colonel Buller’s uniform is arrived, and
both are still remaining at Seville. Otherwise, God be praised!
there are no British subjects here. The weather perfectly
delicious; the walks of an evening and at night charming. My wife
has been very unwell, feverish, and relaxed. As soon as she is
confined, which I hope will be early next month, we think of
starting for Malaga to eat raisins and be under the protection of
Mark.
Our great visitors are all to go the 24th, and say they shall
return next year much earlier. The people are so poor that they
have not been able to give them a ball. In the town they said I was
going to do so. You see how we apples swim, and what a great place
this is for little people; however, I prefer counting my dollars in
my box, _nummos in arcâ_.
SEVILLA, _Saturday [29 Sept. 1832]_.
As you have been so long “in at the death,” I will give you a
little _birth_ by way of a change. On Wednesday my wife was safely
brought to bed of a little girl, both mother and child doing
perfectly well. The birth was premature by three weeks, and brought
on by a severe illness which my wife has had, and which has thrown
her back sadly. I am in hopes that she will now recover her
strength for the journey to Malaga.
They say, first, that the King is dead, and that he died on the
17th; next, that he is eating chickens and smoking cigars, on the
20th; and that he is coming here to a _dead_ certainty.
The furniture of the Alcazar, provided for the Infante, which was
to have been sold, is ordered to be put away in case of being
shortly required. How is all this? Is there really any chance of
the King’s coming? If so, pray let me know (_quite privately_), as
I in that case would remain the winter, having the largest and best
house in the town, which I need not say is at the _Disposicion de
V.E._, and where I can give you a nice _little apartment_, with a
fireplace, and with no chickens to sing ovations on your arrival.
Don Lewis is drawing the Alhambra, and Don José is speculating on
politics, about three weeks more behindhand than we are, which
might be expected, as he lives in an out-of-the-way mountainous
kingdom.
I suppose you have had a rare time of it at the Granja. The running
up and down stairs and the stir of diplomacy will keep your feet
free from chilblains in that Mountain Court. The weather here is
beyond expression delicious.
_November 10, 1832_: SEVILLA.
I have moved out of O’Neill’s house to the one I formerly occupied,
which is warmer and smaller, and have just laid in 1500 cwt. of dry
olive wood, which I wish I could present you with. O’Neill’s
_administrador_, who is a regular skinflint, has taken to his bed,
in consequence of the loss of a tenant who paid 35 reals a day for
a _Caseron_ which will never again be relet. Here they say that he
is coming to Seville for his _Quartel_.
Amarillas has been well received at Granada, where the joy at
having got rid of that scoundrel Moreno is unbounded; above 500
prisoners have been let out of the dungeons there. In spite of his
passport, he ordered Mr. Lewis out of Granada at two hours’ notice,
but relented on an application of Don José.
Mark, who is always the conqueror, has got all the original
correspondence between Torrijos and Moreno, which I hear beats
cockfighting. They say Moreno has fled into Portugal.
Quesada is making rare reforms in the police, and the Andalucians
are dancing Fandangos with delight.
I am expecting Mr. Lewis from Granada, and am going to take him
into my house. I look forward to his Alhambra drawings, and hope my
wife will make some good copies of them. She is, I am very sorry to
say, in a most delicate state, and cruelly pulled down. People are
all in high spirits and looking forward to changes and
improvements which they will never see realised. The Queen very
popular, and, if the King exchange a terrestrial for an immortal
crown, she will here have a strong party.
SEVILLA, _Saturday, 15 [December 1832]_.
As soon as I received your Walter Scott[33] prospectuses I sent one
to Arjona, the _assistente_, another to Quesada, and another to the
editor of the _Diario_. If you send any more, it will be as well to
add a postscript, saying who Walter Scott was, whether he was a
Frenchman or a German, whether he wrote Verses or dealt in
_Bacalao_ [dried cod-fish], as there is no one here who has yet
heard of him, and all, like Lord Westmorland when asked to
subscribe to the monument of Watt, are asking _what’s what_.
However, if he had written the Song of Solomon, and been as
notorious as the Cid, the devil a _cuarto_ would any Spaniard
subscribe, and I do not expect one _peseta_ from Andalucia. The
Major is occupied in buying a horse; Colonel Buller in buying cloth
for new trousers, on which he descants till even tailors cry _ohe!
jam satis est_. I am buying meat and drink for my family. All these
matter-of-fact expenses militate against handing over dollars for
the decoration of a bleak northern capital.
We are about to lose Quesada, who goes to Madrid; but he is
replaced by a better officer and a far higher-bred gentleman,
Amarillas; so that, as far as we are concerned, we rather gain.
Madame Quesada is one of the most agreeable, _graciosas y
chistosas_ [gay] of all _Gaditanas_, and, if you fall in her way,
pray become acquainted with her.
We are all going on here in our usual humdrum manner, my wife
certainly much better. I have just bought her a horse, and she is
having a splendid _Maja_ riding-habit made, which will make the
_Andaluças_ die of envy; black, with innumerable lacing and
tagging, and a profusion of silver filigree buttons.
I have Don Luis staying in my house, he has made some beautiful
sketches of Granada, and is very busy with Sevilla.
The wall of the Alhambra is not yet built up. Remember me and mine
to O’Lawlor, who, I hope, will pick up something in these times of
scramble and change.
[Illustration: SKETCH OF SHOOTING EXCURSION.
[_To face p. 108._
By J. F. Lewis, 1833.
J. F. Lewis is seated on a Grey Horse.
R. Ford with the coloured mantle.
The Captain, José Boscasa, on a Baggage Donkey.]