PART II.--SEVILLE.

LETTER XV.

JOURNEY TO SEVILLE. CHARACTER OF THE SPANIARDS. VALLEY OF

THE RHONE. 259

LETTER XVI.

VOYAGE TO GIBRALTAR 288

LETTER XVII.

CADIZ. ARRIVAL AT SEVILLE. 308

LETTER XVIII.

THE ARABS IN SPAIN. ALCAZAR OF SEVILLE. 315

LETTER XIX.

CATHEDRAL OF SEVILLE 350

LETTER XX.

SPANISH BEGGARS. HAIRDRESSING. THE GIRALDA. CASA DE PILATOS.

MONASTERIES. ITALICA. 369

LETTER XXI.

PRIVATE HOUSES, AND LOCAL CUSTOMS IN SEVILLE 399

LETTER XXII.

INQUISITION. COLLEGE OF SAN TELMO. CIGAR MANUFACTORY. BULL

CIRCUS. EXCHANGE. AYUNTAMIENTO. 416

FOOTNOTES

ENGRAVED PLATES.

PAGE

CHAPEL OF SAN ISIDRO, MADRID To face Title.

TRANSEPT OF CATHEDRAL, BURGOS 38

INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH OF MIRAFLOR ES 72

VIEW OF TOLEDO 106

INTERIOR OF CATHEDRAL, TOLEDO 140

FAÇADE OF SAN GREGORIO, VALLADOLID 248

HALL OF AMBASSADORS, DO. 315

FAÇADE OF THE ALCAZAR, SEVILLE 325

GREAT COURT OF DO. 328

INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL, SEVILLE 353

WOOD ENGRAVINGS.

ARCO DE SANTA MARIA. BURGOS. 30

INTERIOR OF THE CHOIR, CATHEDRAL OF BURGOS 33

SCULPTURE IN THE APSE, DO. DO. 40

HEAD OF ST. FRANCIS 48

FOUNTAIN OF SANTA MARIA, BURGOS 69

ITALIAN GALLERY AT THE MUSEO, MADRID 94

FLORINDA'S BATH, TOLEDO 112

APSE OF THE CATHEDRAL, TOLEDO 129

COSTUME OF A MILITARY NUN, SANTA FE, TOLEDO 165

CHURCH OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES, DO. 179

CLOISTER OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES, DO. 182

INTERIOR OF SANTA MARIA LA BLANCA, DO. 196

INTERIOR OF CHRISTO DE LA LUZ, DO. 201

CASTLE OF GUADAMUR. ENVIRONS OF DO. 226

FAÇADE OF SAN PABLO. VALLADOLID 242

COURT OF SAN GREGORIO. VALLADOLID 249

COURT OF DOLLS, ALCAZAR, SEVILLE 331

FOUNTAINS AT THE ALCAZAR 339

PORTAL OF SAN TELMO, SEVILLE 422

PICTURESQUE ANTIQUITIES

OF

SPAIN.

LETTER I.

TO MRS. C---- R.

Rue de Richelieu.

You perceived at a glance the satisfaction you caused me, when, on

receiving my temporary adieus, you requested me to send you some account

of my travels in Spain. Had it not been so, you had not been in

possession, on that day, of your usual penetration. Indeed, you no doubt

foresaw it; aware that, next to the pleasure of acquiring ocular

information respecting the peculiar objects which interest an

individual, there is no greater one than that of communicating to a

spirit, animated by congenial tastes, the results of his explorations.

You must have foreseen, that, with my recollections of the pleasure I

had derived from our excursions in one of the most interesting regions

of France, during which I was witness to the intelligence and rapidity

of perception you displayed in the appreciation of the monuments of the

Middle Ages, the opportunity of committing to paper the impressions I

should receive in a country so rich in those treasures, with a view to

your information, would give an additional interest to my tour, as well

as encouragement in surmounting the obstacles to be met with among a

people not yet broken in to the curiosity of tourists.

You professed also, with a modesty always becoming to talent and worth,

a complete ignorance respecting Spain: adding, that you would be

grateful for every sort of information; and that you were anxious to be

enlightened on the subject not only of the monuments and fine arts, but

also of the history of that country, of which you had never had an

opportunity of informing yourself; summing up by the enumeration of the

three names of the Cid, Charles the Fifth, and Roderic the Goth, the

entire amount of your acquaintance with the leading characters of

Spanish history.

Indeed, the ignorance you profess with some exaggeration, is more or

less general in our country; nor is it surprising that such should be

the case. Spain has been in modern times in the background of European

progress. The thousand inconveniences of its routes and inns have

deterred the most enterprising from making it a place of resort; and

while a hundred less interesting scenes of travel, such as Baden-Baden,

Bohemia, sporting adventures in Norway, or winterings in St. Petersburg,

have claimed your attention during the reposes of quadrilles, and

substantiated the conversation of several of your morning visitors,

Spain has been unnoticed and unknown--laid on the shelf with the Arabian

Nights--considered a sort of fabulous country, which it would be

charming to know, but with which there would never be a chance of

forming an acquaintance; and you have contented yourself with a sort of

general information respecting it, derived from a few romances and

poems. You are intimate with Boabdil and the wars of Granada, but to

those events is limited your knowledge of its ancient history; and the

reigns of Charles the Fifth and Philip the Second, with the addition of

some confused visions, in which _autos-da-fé_ and dungeons contrast in a

rather gloomy background with laughing majas, whirling their

castagnettes to the soft cadences of guitars, fill up the remaining

space allotted to Spain in your recollections.

It would be a task full of interest for me--possessed, as I shall

probably be, of ample opportunities for its accomplishment--to draw up

for your information a summary of the leading events of Spanish

history; connecting them by the chain of reigns of the successive

sovereigns; and thus to press into a limited compass a sort of abstract

of the annals of this extraordinary nation: but I am deterred by the

certainty that such an attempt, by me, would fail of its intended

object. The events, thus slurred over, would have the effect of whetting

the appetite for knowledge, which they would not satisfy; and the

interminable lists of monarchs, of successions, usurpations, alliances

and intermarriages, rendered doubly intricate by the continual

recurrence of the same names, without sufficient details to

particularise each--a chaos of outlines without the necessary shading to

bring out the figures from the canvass--would not only set at defiance

the clearest memory, but would be a trial which I would not for worlds

impose upon your patience. No history is more attractive than that of

Spain; and those works which exist upon the subject, although all, more

or less, sullied with inaccuracies, and most of them infected with

prejudice, and immersed in superstitious delusion, are still well worth

your perusal; but it would lead me out of my depth, were I to undertake

in my correspondence more than an occasional historical quotation, when

required by the interest attached to any monument which it may fall to

my lot to describe.

Were I not to transmit to you a conscientious and faithful account of

all that I shall see, I should be guilty of cruelty; and that the more

base, from the certain impunity that must attend it. I say this, from

the impossibility of your ever undertaking the same journey, and

consequently of your ever being able to compare my portraits with their

originals. In fact, the incompatibility of your nature, and that of the

Spanish climate, must ever be present to me, who, during the vivifying

heats of the late very bearable _canicule_, in your French château--so

constructed as to perform the functions of an atmospheric sieve, by

separating the wind, which rushed through its doors and windows,

judiciously placed in parallels for the purpose, from the warmer

sunshine without--was witness, nevertheless, to your unaffected

distress, when you protested against any lofty, oak-panelled room being

sat or reclined in by more than one human being at a time, lest it

should be over-heated; placing thus an obstacle in the way of

conversation, in which to shine is your especial province, by rendering

it necessary to converse through various open doors; while, were an

additional testimony necessary to prove the sincerity of your

sufferings, your favourite of favourites, Caliph, repulsed and

uncaressed, hung his silken ears, as he solemnly retreated to coil

himself on a distant rug, and voted the dog-days a misnomer.

Nor were you contented with your atmosphere, until, the season of

insects and _al-fresco_ suppers being long left behind, and the autumnal

equinox having peremptorily closed the doors and windows, fitted, alas!

by a carpenter who flourished in the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, so

plentiful a supply of air was afforded by the handy-works of the said

carpenter, that the Chinese screen had some difficulty in maintaining

its post, and the flames of the well-furnished elm-fire ascended with a

roar that would have shamed many a cataract of the rival element. Not

but that I would willingly forego the opportunity of sending you

erroneous information, in exchange for your presence in that country;

and for your assistance in comprehending the nature of a people

apparently composed of such contradictory ingredients. You might

probably succeed in fathoming the hidden springs of character, which

give birth to a crowd of anomalies difficult to explain. You would

discover by what mystery of organization a people, subject to the

influence of violent passions, combine an abject subjection to the forms

of etiquette, carried to its extreme in every-day life, with occasional

outbreaks of adventure and romance worthy of the days of Orlando and

Rodomonte; and account for a nation exchanging a costume which combines

utility with grace, for one inferior in both respects. Inventors of

whatever is most fascinating in dances and music--you would discover the

motive which induces them to abandon both, but principally the first,

which they replace by the French _rigodon_, or dancing-made-easy, and

adapted to youth, manhood, and all stages of paralysis; and, possessing

the cathedrals of Leon, Burgos, and Seville, to denounce Gothic

architecture as barbarous, and to brand it with the contemptuous

denomination of "crested masonry."

Should my mono-(--monument-) mania run riot, and over-describe,

over-taxing even your passion for that branch of art, be assured--and to

this promise you may always look back for consolation and

encouragement--that I will not write you a history of the recent, or any

previous Spanish revolution, _apropos_ of the first sentry-box I meet

with, even though its form be that of a Lilliputian brick castle. Nor

shall my first glimpse of a matador occasion you a list of bull-fights,

voluminous enough to line the circumference of the _barrera_. No

Diligence shall be waylaid, nor in my presence shall any ladies' fingers

be amputated, the quicker to secure her rings, if I can possibly avoid

it; and, as far as depends on me, I shall arrive in a whole skin at each

journey's end, and without poisoning you or myself with garlick, unless

the new Cortes pass a law for denying to the stranger all other sorts of

aliment.

I have resolved, by a process of reasoning which I need not at present

impart to you, and in virtue of a permission which I have little doubt

of your granting, to publish my part of our correspondence. I think that

neither of us will be a loser by this plan, however conceited I may

appear to you for saying so. Yourself, in the first place, must be a

gainer by the perusal of descriptions, on which, from their being

prepared for the ordeal of a less indulgent eye, greater care will

necessarily be expended: the public may benefit in obtaining

information, which shall be at all events accurate, relative to subjects

as yet inadequately appreciated by those they are the most likely to

interest: while the chief gainer, in the event of these two ends being

attained, will of course be your devoted and humble correspondent.

LETTER II.

ROUTE TO SPAIN THROUGH FRANCE.

Bayonne.

The position of Burgos on the principal line of communication by which

Madrid is approached from the north of Europe; the fact of its being the

first city met with, after crossing the Pyrenees, in which monuments are

found remaining of the former genius and grandeur of the country; and

the name of which calls up the more stirring and eventful epochs of

Spanish history,--render it, notwithstanding its actual distance from

the frontier, a sort of introduction or gateway to Spain--the Spain of

the tourist.

The most agreeable and least troublesome way of visiting the best parts

of Spain excludes, it is true, this route; for the provinces of the

Peninsula which combine the greater number of requisites for the

enjoyment of life with the most attractive specimens of the picturesque,

whether natural or artificial, are those nearest to the coast, and they

are approached more conveniently by sea. Those, however, who can devote

sufficient time, will be repaid, by a tour in the interior of the

country, for the increase of trouble it may occasion them; and this tour

should precede the visit to the maritime provinces, as it will render

their superior comforts and climate the more acceptable from the

contrast. The scenery of the Pyrenees, and the passing acquaintance

formed with the original and picturesque population of the Basque

provinces, secure the traveller against any danger of ennui throughout

the land-journey between the frontier and the city of Burgos.

There does not exist the same security throughout the extent of route

which it is necessary to travel in order to reach this frontier. The

approach to Spain across the south-western provinces of France offers

few objects worthy of detaining us on our way to the Peninsula. It is

one of the least interesting of French routes. From Paris you pass

through Orleans and Tours. At Chatellerault--between the latter city and

Poitiers--the inn-door is besieged by women offering knives for sale. It

is everywhere known that cutlery is not one of the departments of French

manufactures which have attained the greatest degree of superiority. A

glance at the specimens offered for our choice while changing horses at

Chatellerault, showed them to be very bad, even for France.

This did not, however, prevent a multitude of travellers from purchasing

each his knife, nor one of them from laying in a plentiful stock,

stating that he destined a knife for each member of his

family--evidently one of the most numerous in France. I inquired of a

native the explanation of this scene, and whether these knives were

considered superior to those met with in other towns. "Oh no," was the

reply; "but it is usual to buy knives here." I ventured to say I thought

them very bad. "That is of no consequence; because, whenever you have

passed through Chatellerault, every one asks you for a knife made on the

spot." These victims of custom had paid enormous prices for their

acquisitions.

Poitiers is a crazy old town, but contains one of the most admirable

specimens of the architecture immediately preceding the pointed, or

ogivale, and which the French savans call "the Romane." I allude to the

church called "the Notre Dame de Poitiers." The west front is highly

ornamented, and unites all the peculiar richness with the quaintness and

simplicity of design which characterize that fine old style. I must not

omit the forest of Chatellerault, passed through on leaving that town.

It is famous as the scene of the picnic given to the ladies of the

neighbouring city by the officers of a Polish regiment quartered there,

immediately before the breaking out of the Peninsular war. It is

related that Polish gallantry overstepped etiquette to such a

degree,--and _that_ by premeditation,--as to urge these cavaliers, by

force of bayonet, and sentries, to separate all the husbands, and other

male relatives, from the fairer portion of the guests. The consequences

of such a termination of the festivities may easily be imagined;

Bonaparte, a rigid judge with regard to all divorces except his own, on

receiving the complaint of the insulted town, condemned the officers _en

masse_ to be decimated, and the survivors degraded from their rank. He

relented, however, afterwards, on an understanding that they were to

regain their sullied laurels in the Peninsula; where, in fact, in

consequence of his orders, such opportunities were afforded them, that

scarcely a man in the regiment survived the earliest campaigns.

The inhabitants of Chatellerault are said to take great offence on being

asked their age, suspecting the inquirer of a malicious calculation.

The new quarter of Bordeaux is handsome, spacious, and airy. In the

promenade called "La Quinconce," on the bank of the river, a large

insulated edifice, the most monumental in view, is discovered by the

inscription on its front to be an establishment for warm baths. At one

extremity of the principal façade is seen, in sculptured letters, "Bains

des dames;" at the other, "Bains des hommes." At this latter entrance a

handsome staircase leads to the corridor of general communication, on

the unsullied white wall of which the code of discipline of the

establishment, traced in large sable characters, forces itself on the

notice of the visitor. It consists of the following single and rather

singular statute: "Il est expressement défendu aux garçons de permettre

à deux hommes de se servir de la même baignoire." After some reflection

I concluded it to be a measure of precaution with regard to cleanliness,

carried, no doubt, to an extreme at Bordeaux. This town is well

deserving of a few days' halt, should the traveller's object be

amusement, or the pleasures of the table, for which it enjoys a

well-merited reputation. It is a large and handsome city, the second in

France in beauty, and vies with the capital in the elegance of its shops

and principal streets. The theatre is, externally, the finest in France;

and there is, besides the cathedral, and surpassing it in interest and

antiquity, a remarkable Gothic church.

Of the sixty leagues which separate this town from Bayonne, forty afford

the most perfect example of monotony. One sighs for the Steppes of

Russia. These are the well-known Landes, consisting of uncultivated

sands and morass; now covered league after league with the unvarying

gloom of the pine and cork forests,--now dreary and bare,--but ever

presenting to the wearied eye a wide interminable waste, replete with

melancholy and desolation. It is true, that a day of pouring rain was

not calculated to set off to advantage the qualities of such a region,

and should in strict justice be admitted in evidence before passing

condemnation on the Landes.

LETTER III.

THE BASQUE PROVINCES.

Burgos.

It never causes me surprise when I see the efforts made by persons of

limited means to obtain the situation of Consul in a continental town.

In spite of one's being, as it were, tied to one's residence,--and that

not one's home,--there are advantages which counterbalance the evil. The

place carries with it a certain degree of consequence. One feels oneself

suddenly a man of influence, and a respectable public character. I have

heard one, certainly far from being high on the list of these

functionaries, termed by a humbler inhabitant of his "residence," the

"Premier Consul."

The income, too, is, it is true, limited; but then one is usually in a

cheap place. In fact, I always envied these favoured individuals. No

calling, however, is without its _déboires_. It seems as if Providence

had decreed that an income cannot be fairly, if agreeably, earned.

Thus, the set-off against the bliss of the consul, is the necessity he

is under of holding out his hand for his fee. I make these remarks, to

introduce to your notice an ingenious method, put in practice--probably

invented--by our consul at Bayonne, for getting over the irksomeness of

this duty. I found him in his _bureau_, pen in hand, and a large sheet

of official-shaped paper before him, half written over. On my passport

being presented for his _visa_, his countenance assumed a painful

expression, in which regret was blended with a sort of tendency to

compassion, and which at first occasioned me a sensation of alarm,

conjuring up in my imagination all the consequences of an irregular

passport--tedious routes to be retraced, time lost, expense incurred,

and suspicion, and even incarceration--infection--death!

Meanwhile he pointed to the letter he was writing, and, drawing forward

with the other hand a chair, said that he was at that moment

memorializing the Foreign Office on the subject of these visas; that his

pain was extreme at seeing travellers compelled to send or come to his

office, and to lose thus much valuable time; he was likewise concerned

at their having to pay three francs each for so useless a ceremony as

his visa; but he wished it to be remarked, that it was at present a

ceremony quite indispensable; since, only four days back, a gentleman

had been compelled to return from the Spanish frontier (a distance of

seven leagues) in the middle of the night, in consequence of his having

neglected this, as yet, necessary observance.[1]

Leaving Bayonne by Diligence, although still at some distance from the

frontier, you are already in a Spanish vehicle. The only difference

consists in its being drawn by horses as far as Irun, a few hundred

yards in Spain, at which place they are replaced by a team of mules; but

the _mayoral_ is Spanish from the commencement, as also usually the

greater number of the travellers. From the first view of Spanish ground,

the monotony of the landscape ceases, and gives place to picturesque

scenery. This effect is as sudden as if produced by the whistle of a

scene-shifter. From the brow of a hill the valley of the Bidassoa opens

on the view, the bay on the right, two or three towns in the centre, and

beyond them, stretching to the left, the chain of the Pyrenees. This

opening scene is very satisfactory to the newly arrived traveller, whose

expectations have been rising towards fever-heat as he gradually neared

the object of his dreams--the "renowned romantic land;" the more so, as

he is well prepared, by the Landes of France, to enjoy to the utmost

the variety of scene afforded by the two days of mountain and valley

which separate the frontier from the town of Vitoria.

The Diligence comes to a halt every afternoon; the day's journey having

commenced at three in the morning. There are three of these days between

Bayonne and Burgos. At Tolosa and Vitoria--the intermediate places of

rest--the system is as follows: Arriving at about four in the afternoon,

an interval is allowed of about two hours, which in a long journey can

always be profitably employed, until the meal, called supper. This is

Homerically plentiful, and varied sufficiently to suit the tastes of all

such as are accustomed to the vicissitudes of travelling. The repast

over, all gradually retire to their sleeping apartments, where they are

undisturbed until two o'clock in the morning.

At this hour each passenger is furnished with a candle, and requested to

get up; and at a quarter to three the _muchacha_ (chambermaid)

reappears, bearing in her hand a plate, on which, after rubbing his

eyes, the traveller may discover, if it be allowed so to speak, an

imperceptible cup, a _xicara_,--since, having the thing, they have a

name for it, which is of course untranslateable,--of excellent

chocolate, an _azucarillo_ (almost transparent sugar prepared for

instantaneous melting), a glass of water, and a piece of bread. After

partaking of this agreeable refreshment, you have just time left to pay

your bill, fold up your passport, which during the night has remained in

the hands of the police, and to take your seat in the Diligence.

The towns of the Basque provinces appear not to have been much

maltreated during the Carlist war; not so the villages, most of which

present a melancholy aspect of ruin and desolation. The churches, built

so as to appear more like keeps of castles, have mostly withstood the

shock. The destruction was oftener the result of burning than of

artillery. The lover of the picturesque offers his silent gratitude to

the combatants on both sides, for sparing, although unintentionally,

some of the most charming objects of all Spain.

Among the most striking of these is Hernani. It is composed of one

street, of the exact required width for the passage of an ordinary

vehicle. This street is a perfect specimen of picturesque originality.

The old façades are mostly emblazoned with the bearings of their ancient

proprietors, sculptured in high relief. On entering the place, the

effect is that of a deep twilight after the broad blaze of the sunny

mountains. This is caused by the almost flat roofs, which advance

considerably beyond the fronts of the houses, and nearly meet in the

centre of the street: the roof of each house is either higher or lower,

or more or less projecting, than its neighbour; and all are supported by

carved woodwork, black from age. The street terminates on the brow of a

hill, and widens at the end, so as to form a small square, one

retreating side of which is occupied by the front of a church covered

with old sculpture; and the diligence, preceded by its long team of

tinkling mules, disappears through the arched gateway of a Gothic

castle.

In this part of Spain one does not hear the sounds of the guitar; these

commence further on. On Sundays and holydays, the fair of Tolosa, and of

the other Basque towns, flourish their castagnettes to the less romantic

whinings of the violin; but, in traversing the country, the ear is

continually met by a sound less musical, although no less national, than

that of the guitar--a sort of piercing and loud complaint, comparable to

nothing but the screams of those who have "relinquished hope" at Dante's

grim gateway.

These unearthly accents assail the ear of the traveller long before he

can perceive the object whence they proceed; but, becoming louder and

louder, there will issue from a narrow road, or rather ravine, a

diminutive cart, shut in between two small round tables for wheels.

Their voice proceeds from their junction with the axle, by a

contrivance, the nature of which I did not examine closely enough to

describe. A French tourist expresses much disgust at this custom, which

he attributes to the barbarous state of his neighbours, and their

ignorance of mechanical art; it is, however, much more probable that the

explanation given by the native population is the correct one. According

to this, the wheels are so constructed for the useful purpose of

forewarning all other drivers of the approach of a cart. The utility of

some such invention is evident. The mountain roads are cut to a depth

often of several yards, sometimes scores of yards, (being probably

dried-up beds of streams,) and frequently for a distance of some

furlongs admit of the passage of no more than one of these carts at a

time, notwithstanding their being extremely narrow. The driver,

forewarned at a considerable distance by a sound he cannot mistake,

seeks a wide spot, and there awaits the meeting.

You need not be told that human experience analysed resolves itself into

a series of disappointments. I beg you to ask yourself, or any of your

acquaintances, whether any person, thing, or event ever turned out to be

exactly, or nearly, such as was expected he, she, or it would be.

According to the disposition of each individual, these component parts

of experience become the bane or the charm of his life.

This truth may be made, by powerful resolve, the permanent companion of

your reflections, so as to render the expectation of disappointment

stronger than any other expectation. What then? If you know the expected

result will undergo a metamorphosis before it becomes experience, you

will not be disappointed. Only try. For instance,--every one knows the

Spanish character by heart; it is the burden of all literary

productions, which, from the commencement of time, have treated of that

country. A Carlist officer, therefore,--the hopeless martyr in the

Apostolic, aristocratic cause of divine right; the high-souled being,

rushing into the daily, deadly struggle, supported, instead of pay and

solid rations, by his fidelity to his persecuted king;--such a character

is easily figured. The theory of disappointments must here be at fault.

He is a true Spaniard; grave, reserved, dignified. His lofty presence

must impress every assembly with a certain degree of respectful awe.--I

mounted the _coupé_, or _berlina_, of the Diligence, to leave Tolosa,

with a good-looking, fair, well-fed native, with a long falling auburn

moustache. We commenced by bandying civilities as to which should hold

the door while the other ascended. No sooner were we seated than my

companion inquired whether I was military; adding, that he was a Carlist

captain of cavalry returning from a six months' emigration.

Notwithstanding the complete polish of his manners in addressing me, it

was evident he enjoyed an uncommon exuberance of spirits, even more than

the occasion could call for from the most ardent lover of his country;

and I at first concluded he must have taken the earliest opportunity (it

being four o'clock in the morning) of renewing his long-interrupted

acquaintance with the flask of _aguardiente_: but that this was not the

case was evident afterwards, from the duration of his tremendous

happiness. During the first three or four hours, his tongue gave itself

not an instant's repose. Every incident was a subject of merriment, and,

when tired of talking to me, he would open the front-window and address

the _mayoral_; then roar to the postilion, ten mules ahead; then swear

at the _zagal_ running along the road, or toss his cigar-stump at the

head of some wayfaring peasant-girl.

Sometimes, all his vocabulary being exhausted, he contented himself with

a loud laugh, long continued; then he would suddenly fall asleep, and,

after bobbing his head for five or six minutes, awake in a convulsion of

laughter, as though his dream was too merry for sleep. Whatever he said

was invariably preceded by two or three oaths, and terminated in the

same manner. The Spanish (perhaps, in this respect, the richest European

language) hardly sufficed for his supply. He therefore selected some of

the more picturesque specimens for more frequent repetition. These, in

default of topics of conversation, sometimes served instead of a fit of

laughter or a nap: and once or twice he hastily lowered the window, and

gave vent to a string of about twenty oaths at the highest pitch of his

lungs; then shut it deliberately, and remained silent for a minute.

During dinner he cut a whole cheese into lumps, with which he stuffed an

unlucky lap-dog, heedless of the entreaties of two fair

fellow-travellers, proprietors of the condemned quadruped. This was a

Carlist warrior!

The inhabitants of the Basque provinces are a fine race, and taller than

the rest of the Spaniards. The men possess the hardy and robust

appearance common to mountaineers, and the symmetry of form which is

almost universal in Spain, although the difference of race is easily

perceptible. The women are decidedly handsome, although they also are

anything but Spanish-looking; and their beauty is often enhanced by an

erect and dignified air, not usually belonging to peasants, (for I am

only speaking of the lower orders,) and attributable principally to a

very unpeasant-like planting of the head on the neck and shoulders. I

saw several village girls whom nothing but their dress would prevent

from being mistaken for German or English ladies of rank, being moreover

universally blondes. On quitting Vitoria, you leave behind you the

mountains and the pretty faces.

For us, however, the latter were not entirely lost. There were two in

the Diligence, belonging to the daughters of a Grandee of the first

class, Count de P. These youthful señoritas had taken the opportunity,

rendered particularly well-timed by the revolutions and disorders of

their country, of passing three years in Paris, which they employed in

completing their education, and seeing the wonders of that town,

_soi-disant_ the most civilized in the world; which probably it would

have been, had the old _régime_ not been overthrown. They were now

returning to Madrid, furnished with all the new ideas, and the various

useful and useless accomplishments they had acquired.

Every one whose lot it may have been to undertake a journey of several

days in a Diligence,--that is, in one and the same,--and who

consequently recollects that trembling and anxious moment during which

he has passed in review the various members of the society of which he

is to be, _nolens volens_, a member; and the feverish interest which

directed his glance of rapid scrutiny towards those in particular of the

said members with whom he was to be exposed to more immediate contact,

and at the mercy of whose birth and education, habits, opinions,

prejudices, qualities, and propensities, his happiness and comfort were

to be placed during so large and uninterrupted a period of his

existence,--will comprehend my gratitude to these fair _émigrées_, whose

lively conversation shortened the length of each day, adding to the

charms of the magnificent scenery by the opportunity they afforded of a

congenial interchange of impressions. Although we did not occupy the

same compartment of the carriage, their party requiring the entire

interior and _rotonde_, we always renewed acquaintance when a prolonged

ascent afforded an opportunity of liberating our limbs from their

confinement.

The two daily repasts also would have offered no charm, save that of the

Basque _cuisine_,--which, although cleanly and solid, is not perfectly

_cordon bleu_,--but for the entertaining conversation of my fair

fellow-travellers, who had treasured up in their memory the best sayings

and doings of Arnal, and the other Listons and Yateses of the French

capital, which, seasoned with a slight Spanish accent, were

indescribably _piquants_ and original. My regret was sincere on our

respective routes diverging at Burgos; for they proceeded by the direct

line over the Somo sierra to Madrid, while I take the longer road by the

Guadarramas, in order to visit Valladolid. I shall not consequently make

acquaintance with the northern approach to Madrid, unless I return

thither a second time; as to that of my fellow-travellers, I should be

too fortunate were it to be renewed during my short stay in their

capital.

LETTER IV.

ARRIVAL AT BURGOS. CATHEDRAL.

Burgos.

The chain of the Lower Pyrenees, after the ascent from the French side,

and a two days' journey of alternate mountain and valley, terminates on

the Spanish side at almost its highest level. A gentle descent leads to

the plain of Vitoria; and, after leaving behind the fresh-looking,

well-farmed environs of that town, there remains a rather monotonous

day's journey across the bare plains of Castile, only varied by the

passage through a gorge of about a mile in extent, called the Pass of

Pancorbo, throughout which the road is flanked on either side by a

perpendicular rock of from six to eight hundred feet elevation. The

ancient capital of Castile is visible from a considerable distance, when

approached in this direction; being easily recognised by the spires of

its cathedral, and by the citadel placed on an eminence, which forms a

link of a chain of hills crossing the route at this spot.

The extent of Burgos bears a very inadequate proportion to the idea

formed of it by strangers, derived from its former importance and

renown. It is composed of five or six narrow streets, winding round the

back of an irregularly shaped colonnaded plaza. The whole occupies a

narrow space, comprised between the river Arlançon, and the almost

circular hill of scarcely a mile in circumference, (on which stands the

citadel) and covers altogether about double the extent of Windsor

Castle.

The city has received a sort of modern facing, consisting of a row of

regularly built white houses, which turn their backs to the Plaza, and

front the river; uniting at one extremity with an ancient gateway,

which, facing the principal bridge, must originally have stood slightly

in advance of the town, to which it formed a very characteristic

entrance. It is a quadrangular edifice, pierced with a low semicircular

arch. The arch is flanked on the river front by small circular turrets,

and surmounted by seven niches, containing statues of magistrates,

kings, and heroes; while over these, in a centre niche, stands a

semicolossal statue of the Virgin, from which the monument derives its

title of "Arco de Santa Maria." Another arch, but totally simple,

situated at the other extremity of the new buildings, faces another

bridge; and this, with that of Santa Maria, and a third, placed halfway

between them, leading to the Plaza, form the three entrances to the city

on the river side.

[Illustration: ARCO DE SANTA MARIA.]

The dimensions of this, and many other Spanish towns, must not be

adopted as a base for estimating their amount of population. Irun, at

the frontier of France, stands on a little hill, the surface of which

would scarcely suffice for a country-house, with its surrounding

offices and gardens: it contains, nevertheless, four or five thousand

inhabitants, and comprises a good-sized market-place and handsome

town-hall, besides several streets. Nor does this close packing render

the Spanish towns less healthy than our straggling cities, planned with

a view to circulation and purity of atmosphere, although the difference

of climate would seem to recommend to each of the two countries the

system pursued by the other. The humidity of the atmosphere in England

would be the principal obstacle to cleanliness and salubrity, had the

towns a more compact mode of construction; whilst in Spain, on the

contrary, this system is advantageous as a protection against the

excessive power of the summer sun, which would render our wide

streets--bordered by houses too low to afford complete shade--not only

almost impassable, but uninhabitable.

The Plaza of Burgos (entitled "de la Constitucion," or "de Isabel II.,"

or "del Duque de la Victoria," or otherwise, according to the government

of the day,) has always been the resort of commerce. The projecting

first-floors being supported by square pillars, a sort of bazaar is

formed under them, which includes all the shop population of the city,

and forms an agreeable lounge during wet or too sunny weather.

Throughout the remainder of the town, with the exception of the modern

row of buildings above mentioned, almost all the houses are entered

through Gothic doorways, surmounted by armorial bearings sculptured in

stone, which, together with their ornamental inner courts and

staircases, testify to their having sheltered the chivalry of Old

Castile. The Cathedral, although by no means large, appears to fill half

the town; and considering that, in addition to its conspicuous and

inviting aspect, it is the principal remaining monument of the ancient

wealth and grandeur of the province, and one of the most beautiful

edifices in Europe, I will lose no time in giving you a description of

it.

This edifice, or at least the greater portion of it, dates from the

thirteenth century. The first stone was laid by Saint Ferdinand, on the

20th of July 1221. Ferdinand had just been proclaimed king by his mother

Doña Berenguela, who had invested him with his sword at the royal

convent of the Huelgas, about a mile distant from Burgos. Don Mauricio,

Bishop of Burgos, blessed the armour as the youthful king girded it,

and, three days subsequently to the ceremony, he united him to the

Princess Beatrice, in the church of the same convent. This bishop

assisted in laying the first stone of the cathedral, and presided over

the construction of the entire body of the building, including half of

the two principal towers.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE CHOIR.]

His tomb may be seen at the back of the Choir. From the date of the

building its style may at once be recognised, allowing for a difference

which existed between England and the Continent, the latter being

somewhat in advance. The original edifice must have been a very perfect

and admirable specimen of the pointed architecture of its time in all

its purity. As it is, unfortunately, (as the antiquary would say, and, I

should add, the mere man of taste, were it not that tastes are various,

and that the proverb says they are all in nature,) the centre of the

building, forming the intersection of the transept and nave, owing to

some defect in the original construction, fell in just at the period

during which regular architecture began to waver, and the style called

in France the "Renaissance" was making its appearance. An architect of

talent, Felipe de Borgoña, hurried from Toledo, where he was employed in

carving the stalls of the choir, to furnish a plan for the centre tower.

He, however, only carried the work to half the height of the four

cylindrical piers which support it. He was followed by several others

before the termination of the work; and Juan de Herrera, the architect

of the Escorial, is said to have completed it. In this design are

displayed infinite talent and imagination; but the artist could not

alter the taste of the age. It is more than probable that he would have

kept to the pure style of his model, but for the prevailing fashion of

his time. Taken by itself, the tower is, both externally and internally,

admirable, from the elegance of its form, and the richness of its

details; but it jars with the rest of the building.

Placing this tower in the background, we will now repair to the west

front. Here nothing is required to be added, or taken away, to afford

the eye a feast as perfect as grace, symmetry, grandeur, and lightness,

all combined, are capable of producing. Nothing can exceed the beauty of

this front taken as a whole. You have probably seen an excellent view of

it in one of Roberts's annuals. The artists of Burgos complain of an

alteration, made some fifty years back by the local ecclesiastical

authorities, nobody knows for what reason. They caused a magnificent

portal to be removed, to make way for a very simple one, totally

destitute of the usual sculptured depth of arch within arch, and of the

profusion of statuary, which are said to have adorned the original

entrance. This, however, has not produced a bad result in the view of

the whole front. Commencing by solidity and simplicity at its base, the

pile only becomes ornamental at the first story, where rows of small

trefoil arches are carved round the buttresses; while in the

intermediate spaces are an oriel window in an ornamental arch, and two

narrow double arches. The third compartment, where the towers first rise

above the body of the church, offers a still richer display of ornament.

The two towers are here connected by a screen, which masks the roof,

raising the apparent body of the façade an additional story. This

screen is very beautiful, being composed of two ogival windows in the

richest style, with eight statues occupying the intervals of their lower

mullions. A fourth story, equally rich, terminates the towers, on the

summits of which are placed the two spires.

These are all that can be wished for the completion of such a whole.

They are, I imagine, not only unmatched, but unapproached by any others,

in symmetry, lightness, and beauty of design. The spire of Strasburg is

the only one I am acquainted with that may be allowed to enter into the

comparison. It is much larger, placed at nearly double the elevation,

and looks as light as one of these; but the symmetry of its outline is

defective, being uneven, and producing the effect of steps. And then it

is alone, and the absence of a companion gives the façade an unfinished

appearance. For these reasons I prefer the spires of Burgos. Their form

is hexagonal; they are entirely hollow, and unsupported internally. The

six sides are carved _à jour_, the design forming nine horizontal

divisions, each division presenting a different ornament on each of its

six sides. At the termination of these divisions, each pyramid is

surrounded near the summit by a projecting gallery with balustrades.

These appear to bind and keep together each airy fabric, which,

everywhere transparent, looks as though it required some such

restraint, to prevent its being instantaneously scattered by the winds.

On examining the interior of one of these spires, it is a subject of

surprise that they could have been so constructed as to be durable.

Instead of walls, you are surrounded by a succession of little

balustrades, one over the other, converging towards the summit. The

space enclosed is exposed to all the winds, and the thickness of the

stones so slight as to have required their being bound together with

iron cramps. At a distance of a mile these spires appear as transparent

as nets.

On entering the church by the western doors, the view is interrupted, as

is usual in Spain, by a screen, which, crossing the principal nave at

the third or fourth pillar, forms the western limit of the choir; the

eastern boundary being the west side of the transept, where there is an

iron railing. The space between the opposite side of the transept and

the apse is the _capilla mayor_ (chief chapel), in which is placed the

high altar. There are two lower lateral naves, from east to west, and

beyond them a series of chapels. The transept has no lateral naves. Some

of the chapels are richly ornamented. The first or westernmost, on the

north side, in particular, would be in itself a magnificent church. It

is called the "Chapel of Santa Tecla." Its dimensions are ninety-six

feet in length, by sixty-three in width, and sixty high. The ceiling,

and different altars, are covered with a dazzling profusion of gilded

sculpture. The ceiling, in particular, is entirely hidden beneath the

innumerable figures and ornaments of every sort of form, although of

questionable taste, which the ravings of the extravagant style, called

in Spain "Churriguesco" (after the architect who brought it into

fashion), could invent.

The next chapel--that of Santa Ana--is not so large, but designed in far

better taste. It is Gothic, and dates from the fifteenth century. Here

are some beautiful tombs, particularly that of the founder of the

chapel. But the most attractive object is a picture, placed at an

elevation which renders difficult the appreciation of its merits without

the aid of a glass,--a Holy Family, by Andrea del Sarto. It is an

admirable picture; possessing all the grace and simplicity, combined

with the fineness of execution, of that artist. The chapel immediately

opposite (on the south side) contains some handsome tombs, and another

picture, representing the Virgin, attributed by the cicerone of the

place to Michael Angelo. We next arrive at the newer part, or centre of

the building, where four cylindrical piers of about twelve feet

diameter, with octagonal bases, form a quadrangle, and support the

centre tower, designed by Felipe de Borgoña. These pillars are

connected with each other by magnificent wrought brass railings, which

give entrance respectively, westward to the choir,--on the east to the

sanctuary, or capilla mayor,--and north and south to the two ends of the

transept. Above is seen the interior of the tower, covered with a

profusion of ornament, but discordant with every other object within

view.

[Illustration: _W.F. Starling, sc._

TRANSEPT OF THE CATHEDRAL, BURGOS.]

The high altar at the back of the great chapel is also the work of

Herrera. It is composed of a series of rows of saints and apostles,

superposed one over the other, until they reach the roof. All are placed

in niches adorned with gilding, of which only partial traces remain. The

material of the whole is wood. Returning to either side-nave, a few

smaller chapels on the outside, and opposite them the railings of the

sanctuary, conduct us to the back of the high altar, opposite which is

the eastern chapel, called "of the Duke de Frias," or "Capilla del

Condestable."

[Illustration: SCULPTURE IN THE APSE.]

All this part of the edifice--I mean, from the transept eastward--is

admirable, both with regard to detail and to general effect. The pillars

are carved all round into niches, containing statues or groups; and the

intervals between the six last, turning round the apse, are occupied by

excellent designs, sculptured in a hard white stone. The subjects are,

the Agony in the Garden, Jesus bearing the Cross, the Crucifixion, the

Resurrection, and the Ascension. The centre piece, representing the

Crucifixion, is the most striking. The upper part contains the three

sufferers in front; and in the background a variety of buildings, trees,

and other smaller objects, supposed to be at a great distance. In the

foreground of the lower part are seen the officers and soldiers employed

in the execution; a group of females, with St. John supporting the

Virgin, and a few spectators. The costumes, the expression, the symmetry

of the figures, all contribute to the excellence of this piece of

sculpture. It would be difficult to surpass the exquisite grace

displayed in the attitudes, and flow of the drapery, of the female

group; and the Herculean limbs of the right-hand robber, as he writhes

in his torments, and seems ready to snap the cords which retain his feet

and arms,--the figure projecting in its entire contour from the surface

of the background,--present an admirable model of corporeal expression

and anatomical detail.

In clearing the space to make room for these sculptures, the artist had

to remove the tomb of a bishop, whose career, if the ancient _chronique_

is to be depended on, must have been rather singular. The information,

it must be owned, bears the appearance of having been transmitted by

some contemporary annalist, whose impartiality may have perhaps been

biassed by some of the numerous incitements which operate upon

courtiers.

Don Pedro Fernandez de Frias, Cardinal of Spain, Bishop of Osma and

Cuenca, was, it is affirmed, of low parentage, of base and licentious

habits of life, and of a covetous and niggardly disposition. These

defects, however, by no means diminished the high favour he enjoyed at

the successive courts of Henry the Third and Juan the Second. The Bishop

of Segovia, Don Juan de Tordesillas, happened by an unlucky coincidence

to visit Burgos during his residence there. The characters of the two

prelates were not of a nature to harmonise in the smallest degree, and,

being thrown necessarily much in each other's way, they gave loose

occasionally to expressions more than bordering on the irreverent. It

was on one of these occasions, that, the eloquence of the Cardinal

Bishop here interred being at default, a lacquey of his followers came

to his assistance, and being provided with a _palo_, or staff, inflicted

on the rival dignitary certain arguments _ad humeros_--in fact, gave the

Bishop of Segovia a severe drubbing. The Cardinal was on this occasion

compelled to retire to Italy.

Turning our backs to the centre piece of sculpture last described, we

enter the Capilla del Condestable through a superb bronze railing. In

these railings the Cathedral of Burgos rivals that of Seville,

compensating by number for the superior size and height of those

contained in the latter church. That of the chapel we are now entering

entirely fills the entrance arch, a height of about forty feet; the

helmet of a mounted knight in full armour, intended to represent St.

Andrew, which crowns its summit, nearly touching the keystone of the

arch. This chapel must be noticed in detail. Occupying at the extremity

of the church a position answering to that of Henry the Seventh's

Chapel at Westminster Abbey, it forms a tower of itself, which on the

outside harmonises with peculiar felicity with the three others, and

contributes to the apparent grandeur and real beauty of the exterior

view. The interior is magnificent, although its plan and style, being

entirely different from those of Henry the Seventh's Chapel, prevent the

comparison from going further. Its form is octagonal, measuring about

fifty feet in diameter, by rather more than a hundred in height. Its

style florid Gothic of the fourteenth century. The effect of its first

view is enhanced by its being filled, unlike the rest of the church,

with a blaze of light introduced through two rows of windows in the

upper part.

Two of the sides are furnished with recesses, which form lesser chapels,

and in one of which there is a fine organ. Between the centre of the

pavement and the principal altar, a large square block of mixed marble

covers the remains of the founders of the chapel, and bears on its

surface their recumbent figures executed in great perfection.[2] This

is the finest tomb in the cathedral. The embroidery of the cushions, the

ornaments on the count's armour, the gloves of the countess, are among

the details which merit particular notice amidst the beautiful execution

of the whole. The high altar of this chapel does not accord with the

general effect, being designed in the style of the _renascimiento_. In

the centre of it is nevertheless fixed a treasure that would compensate

for worse defects. A small circular medallion represents the Virgin and

Child, in an attitude very similar to that of the Madonna della

Seggiola, executed on porphyry. This delicious little work, of about

nine inches in diameter, forms the centre of attraction, and is the most

precious ornament of the chapel. On the right hand, near the altar, a

small doorway admits to the sacristy.

This contains several relics of the founders. A small portable altar of

ivory, forming the base of a crucifix of about eighteen inches in

height, is an exquisite model of delicate workmanship. Here also has

been treasured up a picture, behind a glass, and in a sort of wooden

case; a bequest likewise of the founders. Unfortunately they neglected

to impart the name of its author. The nebulous sort of uncertainty thus

made to surround this relic has magnified its merits, which might

otherwise perhaps not have claimed particular notice, to the most

colossal dimensions. They scarcely at last know what to say of it. At

the period of my first visit to Burgos, it was a Leonardo da Vinci; but,

after a lapse of two years, the same sacristan informed me that it was

uncertain whether the painting was executed by Raffaelle or Leonardo,

although it was generally supposed to be by Raffaelle; and a notice,

published since, gives the authority of an anonymous connaisseur, who

asserts it to be far superior to Raffaelle's "Perle." It is now

consequently decided that it cannot be a Leonardo, and is scarcely bad

enough for a Raffaelle.

Without venturing _tantas componere lites_, I may be allowed to give my

impression, on an inspection as complete as the studied darkness of the

apartment, added to the glass and wooden case, would permit. It is a

half-figure of the Magdalene. The execution is very elaborate and highly

finished, but there are evident defects in the drawing. In colouring and

manner it certainly reminds you of da Vinci--of one of whose works it

may probably be a copy; but, whatever it is, it is easy to discover that

it is _not_ a Raffaelle.

This chapel does not occupy the precise centre of the apse. A line drawn

from the middle of the western door through the nave would divide it

into two unequal parts, passing at a distance of nearly two yards from

its centre. An examination of the ground externally gives no clue to the

cause of this irregularity, by which the external symmetry of the

edifice is rendered imperfect, although in an almost imperceptible

degree; it must therefore be accounted for by the situation of the

adjoining parochial chapel, of more ancient construction, with which it

was not allowable to interfere, and by the unwillingness of the founder

to diminish the scale on which his chapel was planned.

Before we leave the Chapel del Condestable, one of its ceremonies

deserves particular mention. I allude to the _missa de los carneros_

(sheep-mass). At early mass on All Souls day, a feast celebrated in this

chapel with extraordinary pomp, six sheep are introduced, and made to

stand on a large block of unpolished marble, which has been left lying

close to the tombs, almost in the centre of the chapel; near the six

sheep are placed as many inflated skins of pigs, resembling those

usually filled with the wine of the country; to these is added the

quantity of bread produced from four bushels of wheat: and all remain in

view during the performance of high mass. At the conclusion of the final

response, the sheep are removed from their pedestal, and make for the

chapel-gates, through which they issue; and urged by the voice of their

driver, the peculiar shrill whistle of Spanish shepherds, and by the

more material argument of the staff, proceed down the entire length of

the cathedral to the music of the aforesaid whistle, accompanied by

their own bleatings and bells, until they vanish through the great

western portal.

Returning to the transepts, we find two objects worthy of notice. The

cathedral having been erected on uneven ground, rising rapidly from

south to north, the entrance to the north transept opens at an elevation

of nearly thirty feet from the pavement. To reach this door there is an

ornamental staircase, of a sort of white stone, richly carved in the

_renaissance_ style. This door is never open, a circumstance which

causes no inconvenience; the steps being so steep as to render them less

useful than ornamental, as long as any other exit exists.

A beautifully carved old door, of a wood become perfectly black,

although not so originally, gives access to the cloister from the east

side of the south transept. The interior of the arch which surmounts it

is filled with sculpture. A plain moulding runs round the top, at the

left-hand commencement of which is carved a head of the natural size,

clothed in a cowl.

[Illustration: HEAD OF SAINT FRANCIS.][3]

The attention is instantly rivetted by this head: it is not merely a

masterpiece of execution. Added to the exquisite beauty and delicate

moulding of the upper part of the face, the artist has succeeded in

giving to the mouth an almost superhuman expression. This feature, in

spite of a profusion of hair which almost covers it, lives and speaks. A

smile, in which a barely perceptible but irresistible and, as it were,

innate bitterness of satire and disdain modifies a wish of benevolence,

unites with the piercing expression of the eyes in lighting up the stone

with a degree of intellect which I had thought beyond the reach of

sculpture until I saw this head. Tradition asserts it to be a portrait

of Saint Francis, who was at Burgos at the period of the completion of

the cathedral; and who, being in the habit of examining the progress of

the works, afforded unconsciously a study to the sculptor.

The two sacristies are entered from the cloister: one of them contains

the portraits of all the bishops and archbishops of Burgos.

Communicating with this last is a room destined for the reception of

useless lumber and broken ornaments. Here the cicerone directs your

attention to an old half-rotten oaken chest, fixed against the wall at a

considerable height. This relic is the famous Coffre del Cid, the

self-same piece of furniture immortalised in the anecdote related of the

hero respecting the loan of money obtained on security of the supposed

treasure it enclosed. The lender of the money, satisfied by the weight

of the trunk, and the chivalrous honour of its proprietor, never saw

its contents until shown them by the latter on the repayment of the

loan: they were then discovered to consist of stones and fragments of

old iron.

One is disappointed on finding in this cathedral no more durable

_souvenir_ of the Cid than his rat-corroded wardrobe. His remains are

preserved in the chapel of the Ayuntamiento; thither we will

consequently bend our steps, not forgetting to enjoy, as we leave the

church, a long gaze at its elegant and symmetrical proportions. It may

be called an unique model of beauty of its particular sort, especially

when contemplated without being drawn into comparison with other

edifices of a different class. Catalani is said, on hearing Sontag's

performance, to have remarked that she was "la première de son genre,

mais que son genre n'était pas le premier." Could the cathedral of

Seville see that of Burgos, it would probably pronounce a similar

judgment on its smaller rival.

The profusion of ornament, the perfection of symmetry, the completeness

of finish, produce an instantaneous impression that nothing is wanting

in this charming edifice; but any one who should happen to have

previously seen that of Seville cannot, after the first moments of

enthusiasm, escape the comparison which forces itself on him, and which

is not in favour of this cathedral. It is elegant, but deficient in

grandeur; beautiful, but wanting in majesty. The stern and grand

simplicity of the one, thrown into the scales against the light, airy,

and diminutive, though graceful beauty of the other, recalls the

contrast drawn by Milton between our first parents; a contrast which,

applied to these churches, must be considered favourable to the more

majestic, however the balance of preference may turn in the poem.

LETTER V.

TOMB OF THE CID. CITADEL.

Burgos.

The Ayuntamiento, or Town-hall, presents one façade to the river, and

the other to the Plaza Mayor, being built over the archway which forms

the already mentioned entrance to the central portion of the city. The

building, like other town-halls, possesses an airy staircase, a large

public room, and a few other apartments, used for the various details of

administration; but nothing remarkable until you arrive at a handsomely

ornamented saloon, furnished with a canopied seat fronting a row of

arm-chairs. This is the room in which the municipal body hold their

juntas. It contains several portraits: two or three of kings, suspended

opposite to an equal number of queens; the two likenesses of the

celebrated judges Nuño Rasura and Lain Calvo, near which are seen the

simple square oaken chairs from within the angular and hard embrace of

which they administered the laws and government of Castile; a

full-length of Fernan Gonzalez; and lastly, one of the Cid.

Owing to the singularity of this last portrait, it is the first to

attract attention. The hero is represented in the most extraordinary of

attitudes: the head is thrown back, and the face turned towards one

side; the legs in a sort of studied posture; a drawn sword is in the

right hand, the point somewhat raised. The general expression is that of

a comic actor attempting an attitude of mock-heroic impertinence; and is

probably the result of an unattained object in the mind of the artist,

of producing that of fearless independence.

Beyond this apartment is the Chapel, a plain, not large room, containing

but two objects besides its very simple altar, with its, almost black,

silver candlesticks. Over the altar is a Conception, by Murillo; and, in

the centre of the chapel, a highly polished and neatly ornamented

funereal urn, composed of walnut-wood, contains the remains of the Cid:

the urn stands on a pedestal. On its two ends in letters of gold, are

inscriptions, stating its contents, and the date of its application to

its present purpose. I was told that the bones were contained in a

leaden box, but that a glass one was being prepared, which, on opening

the lid of the urn, would afford a view of the actual dust of the

warrior.

The remains of the Cid have only recently been conveyed to Burgos from

the monastery of San Pedro de Cardenas, about four miles distant. They

had been preserved there ever since his funeral, which took place in the

presence of King Alonzo the Sixth, and the two Kings, sons-in-law of the

hero, as soon as the body arrived from Valencia.

This monastic retreat, if dependence may be placed on the testimony of

the Cerberus of the Alcalde,--the cicerone (when duly propitiated) of

the municipal edifice,--did not turn out to be altogether a place of

repose to the warrior. According to this worthy, an amusing interpreter

of the popular local traditions, the exploits performed subsequently to

the hero's interment were such as almost to throw a shadow over those he

enacted during his mortal existence. One specimen will suffice. Some

twenty thousand individuals, including the monks of all the neighbouring

monasteries, were assembled in the church of San Pedro, and were

listening to a sermon on the occasion of the annual festival in honour

of the patron saint. Guided by curiosity, a Moor entered the church and

mingled with the crowd. After remaining during a short time motionless,

he approached a pillar, against which was suspended a portrait of the

Cid, for the purpose of examining the picture. Suddenly the figure was

seen by all present, whose testimony subsequently established the fact,

to grasp with the right hand the hilt of its sword, and to uncover a few

inches of the naked blade. The Moor instantly fell flat on the pavement,

and was found to be lifeless.

You would be surprised at the difficulty of forming even here, in the

midst of the scenes of his exploits, a definite idea of this Hercules of

the Middle Ages. For those who are satisfied with the orthodox histories

of the monks, he is without defects--a simple unsophisticated demi-god.

But there have been Mahometan historians of Spain. These are universally

acknowledged to have treated of all that concerned themselves with

complete accuracy and impartiality; and, when this happens, it should

seem to be the best criterion, in the absence of other proof, of their

faithful delineation of others' portraits.

However that may be, here is an instance which will give you an idea of

the various readings of the Cid's history.

Mariana relates, that an Arab expedition, headed by five kings (as he

terms them) of the adjoining states, being signalized as having passed

the mountains of Oca, and being occupied in committing depredations on

the Christian territory, Rodrigo suddenly took the field, recovered all

the booty, and made all five kings prisoners. All this being done by

himself and his own retainers. The kings he released after signing a

treaty, according to which they agreed to pay him an annual tribute. It

happened, that on the occasion of the first payment of this, Rodrigo was

at Zamora, whither he had accompanied the King of Castile; and he took

an opportunity of receiving the Arab messengers in presence of the

court. This was at least uncommon. The messengers addressed him by the

appellation of Syd (sir) as they handed over the money. Ferdinand,

delighted with the prowess of his courtier, expressed on this occasion

the desire that he should retain the title of Syd.

This anecdote undergoes, in the hands of the Arab writers, a curious

metamorphosis. According to them, the expression Syd was employed, not

by tributary kings, but by certain chiefs of that creed whose pay the

Catholic hero was receiving in return for aid lent against the

Christians of Aragon.

They attribute, moreover, to this mirror of chivalry, on the surrender

of Valencia, a conduct by no means heroic--not to say worthy a

highwayman. He accepted, as they relate, the pay of the Emyr of Valencia

to protect the city against the Almoravides, who at that period were

extending their conquests all over Moorish Spain. The Cid was repulsed,

and the town taken. After this defeat he shut himself up in a castle,

since called the Peña del Cid (Rock of the Cid), and there waited his

opportunity. On the departure of the conquerors from the city, in which

they left an insufficient garrison, he hastened down at the head of his

campeadores, and speedily retook Valencia.

The Cadi, Ahmed ben Djahhaf, left in command of the place, had, however,

only surrendered on faith of a capitulation couched in the most

favourable terms. It was even stipulated that he should retain his post

of governor; but no sooner was the Cid master of the place than he

caused the old man to be arrested and put to the torture, in order to

discover from him the situation of a treasure supposed to be concealed

in the Alcazar; after which, finding he would not speak, or had nothing

to reveal, he had him burned on the public place.

The Citadel of Burgos, at present an insignificant fortress, was

formerly a place of considerable importance, and commanded the

surrounding country; especially on the side on which the town--placed at

the foot of the eminence--lay beneath its immediate protection, and

could listen unscathed to the whizzing of the deadly missiles of war as

they passed over its roofs. During the various wars of which Castile has

been the theatre at different periods, this citadel has, from its

important position, occupied the main attention of contending armies;

and, from forming a constant _point-de-mire_ to attacking troops, has

finally been almost annihilated. The principal portion of the present

buildings is of a modern date, but, although garrisoned, the fortress

cannot be said to be restored.

The extent of the town was greater than at present, and included a

portion of the declivity which exists between the present houses and the

walls of the fortress. At the two extremities of the town-side of the

hill, immediately above the level of the highest-placed houses now

existing, two Arab gate-ways give access through the ancient town-walls,

which ascended the hill from the bottom. Between these there exists a

sort of flat natural terrace, above the town, and running along its

whole length, on to which some of the streets open. On this narrow level

stood formerly a part, probably the best part, of the city, which has

shared the fate of its protecting fortress; but, not being rebuilt, it

is now an empty space,--or would be so, but for the recent erection of a

cemetery, placed at about half the distance between the two extremities.

Before, however, the lapse of years had worn away the last surviving

recollections of these localities, some worshipper of by-gone glory

succeeded in discovering, on the now grass-grown space, the situations

once occupied by the respective abodes of the Cid and of Fernan

Gonzalez. On these spots monuments have been erected. That of Gonzalez

is a handsome arch, the piers supporting which are each faced with two

pillars of the Doric order on either side; above the cornice there is a

balustrade, over which four small obelisks correspond with the

respective pillars. The arch is surmounted by a sort of pedestal, on

which is carved an inscription, stating the object of the monument.

There is nothing on the top of the pedestal, which appears to have been

intended for the reception of a statue.

The monument in memory of the Cid is more simple. It consists of three

small pyramids in a row, supported on low bases or pedestals; that in

the centre higher than the other two, but not exceeding (inclusive of

the base) twenty feet from the ground. On the lower part of the centre

stone is carved an appropriate inscription, abounding in ellipsis, after

the manner usually adopted in Spain.

It is not surprising that these monuments, together with the memory of

the events brought about by the men in whose honour they have been

erected, should be fast hastening to a level with the desolation

immediately surrounding them. The present political circumstances of

Spain are not calculated to favour the retrospection of by-gone glories.

Scarcely is time allowed--so rapidly are executed the transmutations of

the modern political diorama--for examining the events, or even for

recovery from the shock, of each succeeding revolution; nor force

remaining to the exhausted organs of admiration or of horror, to be

exercised on almost forgotten acts, since those performed before the

eyes of the living generation have equalled or surpassed them in

violence and energy. The arch of Fernan Gonzalez, if not speedily

restored, (which is not to be expected,) runs the risk, from its

elevation and want of solidity, of being the first of the two monuments

to crumble to dust; a circumstance which, although not destitute of an

appearance of justice,--from the fact of the hero it records having

figured on an earlier page of Castilian annals,--would nevertheless

occasion regret to those who prefer history to romance, and who estimate

essential services rendered to the state, as superior to mere individual

_éclat_, however brilliant.

You will not probably object to the remainder of this letter being

monopolized by this founder of the independence of Castile; the less so,

from the circumstance of the near connection existing between his

parentage and that of the city we are visiting, and which owes to him so

much of its celebrity. Should you not be in a humour to be lectured on

history, you are at all events forewarned, and may wait for the next

despatch.

Unlike many of the principal towns of the Peninsula, which content

themselves with no more modern descent than from Nebuchadnezzar or

Hercules, Burgos modestly accepts a paternity within the domain of

probability. A German, Nuño Belchides, married, in the reign of Alonzo

the Great, King of Oviedo, a daughter of the second Count of Castile,

Don Diego Porcellos. This noble prevailed on his father-in-law to

assemble the inhabitants of the numerous villages dispersed over the

central part of the province, and to found a city, to which he gave the

German name of "city" with a Spanish termination. It was Don Fruela

III., King of Leon, whose acts of injustice and cruelty caused so

violent an exasperation, that the nobles of Castile, of whom there

existed several of a rank little inferior to that of the titular Count

of the province, threw up their allegiance, and selected two of their

own body, Nuño Rasura and Lain Calvo, to whom they intrusted the supreme

authority, investing them with the modest title of Judges, by way of a

check, lest at any future time they should be tempted, upon the strength

of a higher distinction, to make encroachments on the common liberties.

The first of the two judges, Nuño Rasura, was the son of the

above-mentioned Nuño Belchides and his wife, Sulla Bella (daughter of

Diego Porcellos), and grandfather of Fernan Gonzalez. His son Gonzalo

Nuño, Fernan's father, succeeded on his death to the dignity of Judge of

Castile, and became extremely popular, owing to his affability, and

winning urbanity of deportment in his public character. He established

an academy in his palace for the education of the sons of the nobles,

who were instructed under his own superintendence in all the

accomplishments which could render them distinguished in peace or in

war. The maternal grandfather of Fernan Gonzalez was Nuño Fernandez, one

of the Counts of Castile who were treacherously seized and put to death

by Don Ordoño, King of Leon. The young Count of Castile is described as

having been a model of elegance. To singular personal beauty he added an

unmatched proficiency in all the exercises then in vogue, principally in

arms and equitation. These accomplishments, being added to much

affability and good-nature, won him the affections of the young nobles,

who strove to imitate his perfections, while they enjoyed the

festivities of his palace.

It appears that, notwithstanding the rebellion, and appointment of

Judges, Castile had subsequently professed allegiance to the Kings of

Leon; for a second revolt was organized in the reign of Don Ramiro, at

the head of which we find Fernan Gonzalez. On this occasion, feeling

themselves too feeble to resist the royal troops, the rebels had

recourse to a Moorish chief, Aecipha. The King, however, speedily drove

the Moors across the frontier, and succeeded in capturing the principal

revolters. After a short period these were released, on the sole

condition of taking the oath of allegiance; and the peace was

subsequently sealed by the marriage of a daughter of Gonzalez with Don

Ordoño, eldest son of Ramiro, and heir to the kingdom.

The Count of Castile was, however, too powerful a vassal to continue

long on peaceable terms with a sovereign, an alliance with whose family

had more than ever smoothed the progressive ascent of his pretensions.

Soon after the accession of his son-in-law Don Ordoño, he entered into

an alliance against him with the King of Navarre. This declaration of

hostility was followed by the divorce of Fernan's daughter by the King,

who immediately entered into a second wedlock. The successor of this

monarch, Don Sancho, surnamed the Fat, was indebted for a large portion

of his misfortunes and vicissitudes to the hostility of the Count of

Castile. Don Ordoño, the pretender to his throne, son of Alonzo surnamed

the Monk, with the aid of Gonzalez, whose daughter Urraca, the

repudiated widow of the former sovereign, he married, took easy

possession of the kingdom, driving Don Sancho for shelter to the court

of his uncle the then King of Navarre. It is worth mentioning, that King

Sancho took the opportunity of his temporary expulsion from his states,

to visit the court of Abderahman at Cordova, and consult the Arab

physicians, whose reputation for skill in the removal of obesity had

extended over all Spain. History relates that the treatment they

employed was successful, and that Don Sancho, on reascending his throne,

had undergone so complete a reduction as to be destitute of all claims

to his previously acquired _sobriquet_.

All these events, and the intervals which separated them, fill a

considerable space of time; and the establishment of the exact dates

would be a very difficult, if not an impossible, undertaking. Various

wars were carried on during this time by Gonzalez, and alliances formed

and dissolved. Several more or less successful campaigns are recorded

against the Moors of Saragoza, and of other neighbouring states. The

alliance with Navarre had not been durable. In 959 Don Garcia, King of

that country, fought a battle with Fernan Gonzalez, by whom he was taken

prisoner, and detained in Burgos thirteen months. The conquest of the

independence of Castile is related in the following manner.

In the year 958, the Cortes of the kingdom were assembled at Leon,

whence the King forwarded a special invitation to the Count of Castile,

requiring his attendance, and that of the Grandees of the province, for

"deliberation on affairs of high importance to the state." Gonzalez,

although suspicious of the intentions of the sovereign, unable to devise

a suitable pretext for absenting himself, repaired to Leon, attended by

a considerable _cortége_ of nobles. The King went forth to receive him;

and it is related, that refusing to accept a present, offered by

Gonzalez, of a horse and a falcon, both of great value, a price was

agreed on; with the condition that, in case the King should not pay the

money on the day named in the agreement, for each successive day that

should intervene until the payment, the sum should be doubled. Nothing

extraordinary took place during the remainder of the visit; and the

Count, on his return to Burgos, married Doña Sancha, sister of the King

of Navarre.

It is probable that some treachery had been intended against Gonzalez,

similar to that put in execution on a like occasion previous to his

birth, when the Counts of Castile were seized and put to death in their

prison; for, not long after, a second invitation was accepted by the

Count, who was now received in a very different manner. On his kneeling

to kiss the King's hand, Don Sancho burst forth with a volley of

reproaches, and, repulsing him with fury, gave orders for his immediate

imprisonment. It is doubtful what fate was reserved for him by the

hatred of the Queen-mother, who had instigated the King to the act of

treachery, in liquidation of an ancient personal debt of vengeance of

her own, had not the Countess of Castile, Doña Sancha, undertaken his

liberation.

Upon receiving the news of her husband's imprisonment, she allowed a

short period to elapse, in order to mature her plan, and at the same

time lull suspicion of her intentions. She then repaired to Leon, on

pretext of a pilgrimage to Santiago, on the route to which place Leon is

situated. She was received by King Sancho with distinguished honours,

and obtained permission to visit her husband, and to pass a night in his

prison. The following morning, Gonzalez, taking advantage of early

twilight, passed the prison-doors in disguise of the Countess, and,

mounting a horse which was in readiness, escaped to Castile.

This exploit of Doña Sancha does not belong to the days of romance and

chivalry alone: it reminds us of the still more difficult task,

accomplished by the beautiful Winifred, Countess of Nithisdale, who,

eight centuries later, effected the escape of the rebel Earl, her

husband, from the Tower, in a precisely similar manner; thus rescuing

him from the tragic fate of his friends and fellow-prisoners, the Lords

Derwentwater and Kenmure.

Doña Sancha obtained her liberty without difficulty, being even

complimented by the King on her heroism, and provided with a brilliant

escort on her return to Castile. Gonzalez contented himself with

claiming the price agreed upon for the horse and falcon; and--the King

not seeming inclined to liquidate the debt, which, owing to the long

delay, amounted already to an enormous sum, or looking upon it as a

pretext for hostility, the absence of which would not prevent the Count

of Castile, in his then state of exasperation, from having recourse to

arms--passed the frontier of Leon at the head of an army, and, laying

waste the country, approached gradually nearer to the capital. At length

Don Sancho sent his treasurer to clear up the account, but it was found

that the debt exceeded the whole amount of the royal treasure; upon

which Gonzalez claimed and obtained, on condition of the withdrawal of

his troops, a formal definitive grant of Castile, without reservation,

to himself and his descendants.

Before we quit Burgos for its environs, one more edifice requires our

notice. It is a fountain, occupying the centre of the space which faces

the principal front of the cathedral. This little antique monument

charms, by the quaint symmetry of its design and proportions, and

perhaps even by the terribly mutilated state of the four fragments of

Cupids, which, riding on the necks of the same number of animals so

maltreated as to render impossible the discovery of their race, form

projecting angles, and support the basin on their shoulders. Four

mermaids, holding up their tails, so as not to interfere with the

operations of the Cupids, ornament the sides of the basin, which are

provided with small apertures for the escape of the water; the top being

covered by a flat circular stone, carved around its edge. This stone,--a

small, elegantly shaped pedestal, which surmounts it,--and the other

portions already described, are nearly black, probably from antiquity;

but on the pedestal stands a little marble virgin, as white as snow.

This antique figure harmonises by its mutilation with the rest, although

injured in a smaller degree; and at the same time adds to the charm of

the whole, by the contrast of its dazzling whiteness with the dark mass

on which it is supported. The whole is balanced on the capital of a

pillar, of a most original form, which appears immediately above the

surface of a sheet of water enclosed in a large octagonal basin.

[Illustration: FOUNTAIN OF SANTA MARIA.]

LETTER VI.

CARTUJA DE MIRAFLORES. CONVENT OF LAS HUELGAS.

Burgos.

The Chartreuse of Miraflores, situated to the east of the city, half-way

in the direction of the above-mentioned monastery of San Pedro de

Cardeñas, crowns the brow of an eminence, which, clothed with woods

towards its base, slopes gradually until it reaches the river. This spot

is the most picturesque to be found in the environs of Burgos,--a region

little favoured in that respect. The view, extending right and left,

follows the course of the river, until it is bounded on the west by the

town, and on the east by a chain of mountains, a branch of the Sierra of

Oca. Henry the Third, grandfather of Isabel the Catholic, made choice of

this position for the erection of a palace; the only remnant of it now

existing is the church, which has since become the inheritance of the

Carthusian monks, the successors of its royal founder.

The late revolution, after sparing the throne of Spain, displayed a

certain degree of logic, if not in all its acts, at least in sparing,

likewise, two or three of the religious establishments, under the

protection of which the principal royal mausoleums found shelter and

preservation. The great Chartreuse of Xeres contained probably no such

palladium, for it was among the first of the condemned: its lands and

buildings were confiscated; and its treasures of art, and all portable

riches, dispersed, as likewise its inhabitants, in the direction of all

the winds.

In England the name of Xeres is only generally known in connection with

one of the principal objects of necessity, which furnish the table of

the _gastronome_; but in Andalucia the name of Xeres de la Frontera

calls up ideas of a different sort. It is dear to the wanderer in Spain,

whose recollections love to repose on its picturesque position, its

sunny skies, its delicious fruits, its amiable and lively population,

and lastly on its once magnificent monastery, and the treasures of art

it contained. The Prior of that monastery has been removed to the

Cartuja of Burgos, where he presides over a community, reduced to four

monks, who subsist almost entirely on charity. This amiable and

gentleman-like individual, in whom the monk has in no degree injured

the man of the world,--although a large estate, abandoned for the

cloister, proved sufficiently the sincerity of his religious

professions,--had well deserved a better fate than to be torn in his old

age from his warm Andalucian retreat, and transplanted to the rudest

spot in the whole Peninsula, placed at an elevation of more than four

thousand feet above the level of the Atlantic, and visited up to the

middle of June by snow-storms. At the moment I am writing, this innocent

victim of reform is extended on a bed of sickness, having only recently

escaped with his life from an attack, during which he was given over.

This Cartuja possesses more than the historical reminiscences with which

it is connected, to attract the passing tourist. It owes its prolonged

existence to the possession of an admirable work of art,--the tomb of

Juan the Second and his Queen Isabel, which stands immediately in front

of the high altar of the church. This living mass of alabaster, the work

of Gil de Siloë, son of the celebrated Diego, presents in its general

plan the form of a star. It turns one of its points to the altar. Its

mass, or thickness from the ground to the surface, measures about six

feet; and this is consequently the height at which are laid the two

recumbent figures.

[Illustration: _N. A. Wells. deb._ W. I. Starling, "84"

INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH OF MIRAFLORES,

NEAR BURGOS.]

It is impossible to conceive a work more elaborate than the details of

the costumes of the King and Queen. The imitation of lace and

embroidery, the exquisite delicacy of the hands and features, the

infinitely minute carving of the pillows, the architectural railing by

which the two statues are separated, the groups of sporting lions and

dogs placed against the foot-boards, and the statues of the four

Evangelists, seated at the four points of the star which face the

cardinal points of the compass,--all these attract first the attention

as they occupy the surface; but they are nothing to the profusion of

ornament lavished on the sides. The chisel of the artist has followed

each retreating and advancing angle of the star, filling the innermost

recesses with life and movement. It would be endless to enter into a

detailed enumeration of all this. It is composed of lions and lionesses,

panthers, dogs,--crouching, lying, sitting, rampant, and standing; of

saints, male and female, and personifications of the cardinal virtues.

These figures are represented in every variety of posture,--some

standing on pedestals, and others seated on beautifully wrought

arm-chairs, but all enclosed respectively in the richest Gothic tracery,

and under cover of their respective niches. Were there no other object

of interest at Burgos, this tomb would well repay the traveller for a

halt of a few days, and a country walk.

At the opposite side of the town may be seen the royal convent of Las

Huelgas; but as the nuns reserve to themselves the greater part of the

church, including the royal tombs, which are said to be very numerous,

no one can penetrate to satisfy his curiosity. It is, however, so

celebrated an establishment, and of such easy access from the town, that

a sight of what portions of the buildings are accessible deserves the

effort of the two hundred yards' walk which separates it from the river

promenade. This Cistercian convent was founded towards the end of the

twelfth century by Alonzo the Eighth,--the same who won the famous

battle of the Navas de Tolosa. It occupies the site of the

pleasure-grounds of a royal retreat, as is indicated by the name itself.

In its origin it was destined for the reception, exclusively, of

princesses of the blood royal. It was consequently designed on a scale

of peculiar splendour. Of the original buildings, however, only

sufficient traces remain to confirm the records of history, but not to

convey an adequate idea of their magnificence. What with the

depredations of time, the vicissitudes of a situation in the midst of

provinces so given to contention, and repeated alterations, it has

evidently, as far as regards the portions to a view of which admission

can be obtained, yielded almost all claims to identity with its ancient

self.

The entire church, with the exception of a small portion partitioned off

at the extremity, and containing the high altar, is appropriated to the

nuns, and fitted up as a choir. It is very large; the length, of which

an estimate may be formed externally, appearing to measure nearly three

hundred feet. It is said this edifice contains the tomb of the founder,

surrounded by forty others of princesses. The entrance to the public

portion consists of a narrow vestibule, in which are several antique

tombs. They are of stone, covered with Gothic sculpture, and appear,

from the richness of their ornaments, to have belonged also to royalty.

They are stowed away, and half built into the wall, as if there had not

been room for their reception. The convent is said to contain handsome

cloisters, courts, chapter-hall, and other state apartments, all of a

construction long subsequent to its foundation. The whole is surrounded

by a complete circle of houses, occupied by its various dependants and

pensioners. These are enclosed from without by a lofty wall, and face

the centre edifice, from which they are separated by a series of large

open areas. Their appearance is that of a small town, surrounding a

cathedral and palace.

The convent of the Huelgas takes precedence of all others in Spain. The

abbess and her successors were invested by the sovereigns of Leon and

Castile with especial prerogatives, and with a sort of authority over

all convents within those kingdoms. Her possessions were immense, and

she enjoyed the sovereign sway over an extensive district, including

several convents, thirteen towns, and about fifty villages. In many

respects her jurisdiction resembles that of a bishop. The following is

the formula which heads her official acts:

"We, Doña ..., by the grace of God and of the Holy Apostolic See, Abbess

of the royal monastery of Las Huelgas near to the city of Burgos, order

of the Cister, habit of our father San Bernardo, Mistress, Superior,

Prelate, Mother, and lawful spiritual and temporal Administrator of the

said royal monastery, and its hospital called 'the King's Hospital,' and

of the convents, churches, and hermitages of its filiation, towns and

villages of its jurisdiction, lordship, and vassalage, in virtue of

Apostolic bulls and concessions, with all sorts of jurisdiction, proper,

almost episcopal, _nullius diocesis_, and with royal privileges, since

we exercise both jurisdictions, as is public and notorious," &c.

The hospital alluded to gives its name to a village, about a quarter of

a mile distant, called "Hospital del Rey." This village is still in a

sort of feudal dependance on the abbess, and is the only remaining

source of revenue to the convent, having been recently restored by a

decree of Queen Isabella; for the royal blood flowing in the veins of

the present abbess had not exempted her convent from the common

confiscation decreed by the revolution. The hospital, situated in the

centre of the village, is a handsome edifice. The whole place is

surrounded by a wall, similar to that which encloses the convent and its

immediate dependances, and the entrance presents a specimen of much

architectural beauty. It forms a small quadrangle, ornamented with an

elegant arcade, and balustrades of an original design.

LETTER VII.

ROUTE TO MADRID. MUSEO.

Toledo.

The route from Burgos to Madrid presents few objects of interest. The

country is dreary and little cultivated; indeed, much of it is incapable

of culture. For those who are unaccustomed to Spanish routes, there may,

indeed, be derived some amusement from the inns, of which some very

characteristic specimens lie in their way. The Diligence halts for the

night at the Venta de Juanilla, a solitary edifice situated at the foot

of the last or highest _étage_ of the Somo Sierra, in order to leave the

principal ascent for the cool of early dawn. The building is seen from a

considerable distance, and looks large; but is found, on nearer

approach, to be a straggling edifice of one story only.

It is a modern inn, and differs in some essential points from the

ancient Spanish _posada_,--perfect specimens of which are met with at

Briviesca and Burgos. In these the vestibule is at the same time a

cow-shed, sheepfold, stable, pigsty,--in fact, a spacious Noah's Ark, in

which are found specimens of all living animals, that is, of all sizes,

down to the most minute; but for the purification of which it would be

requisite that the entire flood should pass within, instead of on its

outside. The original ark, moreover, possessed the advantage of windows,

the absence of which causes no small embarrassment to those who have to

thread so promiscuous a congregation, in order to reach the staircase;

once at the summit of which, it must be allowed, one meets with

cleanliness, and a certain degree of comfort.

The Venta de Juanilla, on the Somo Sierra, is a newish, clean-looking

habitation, especially the interior, where one meets with an excellent

supper, and may feast the eyes on the sight of a printed card, hanging

on the wall of the dining-room, announcing that luxury of exotic

gastronomy--Champagne--at three crowns a bottle: none were bold enough

that evening to ask for a specimen.

There is less of the exotic in the bed-room arrangements; in fact, the

building appears to have been constructed by the Diligence proprietors

to meet the immediate necessity of the occasion. The Madrid road being

served by two Diligences, one, leaving the capital, meets at this point,

on its first night, the other, which approaches in the contrary

direction. In consequence of this arrangement, the edifice is provided

with exactly four dormitories,--two male, and two female.

Nor is this the result of an intention to diminish the numbers quartered

in each male or female apartment; on the contrary, two rooms would have

answered the purpose better than four, but for the inconvenience and

confusion which would have arisen from the denizens of the Diligence

destined to start at a later hour being aroused from their slumbers, and

perhaps induced to depart by mistake, at the signal for calling the

travellers belonging to the earlier conveyance,--the one starting at two

o'clock in the morning, and the other at three.

On the occasion of my _bivouaque_ in this curious establishment, an

English couple, recently married, happened to be among the number of my

fellow-sufferers; and the lady's report of the adventures of the female

dormitory of our Diligence afforded us sufficient amusement to enliven

the breakfast on the other side of the mountain. It appeared, that,

during the hustling of the males into their enclosure, a fond mother,

moved by Heaven knows what anxious apprehensions, had succeeded in

abstracting from the herd her son, a tender youth of fourteen. Whether

or not she expected to smuggle, without detection, this contraband

article into the female pen we could not determine. If she did, she

reckoned somewhat independently of her host; for on a fellow-traveller

entering in the dark, and groping about for a considerable time in

search of an unoccupied nest, a sudden exclamation aroused the fatigued

sleepers, followed by loud complaints against those who had admitted an

interloper to this holy of holies of feminine promiscuousness, to the

exclusion of one of its lawful occupants. The dispute ran high; but it

must be added to the already numerous proofs of the superior energy

proceeding from aroused maternal feelings, that the intruder was

maintained in his usurped resting-place by his determined parent,

notwithstanding the discontent naturally caused by such a proceeding.

We have now reached the centre of these provinces, the destinies of

which have offered to Europe so singular an example of political

vicissitude. It is an attractive occupation, in studying the history of

this country, to watch the progress of the state, the ancient capital of

which we have just visited,--a province which, from being probably the

rudest and poorest of the whole Peninsula, became the most influential,

the wealthiest, the focus of power, as it is geographically the centre

of Spain,--and to witness its constantly progressive advance, as it

gradually drew within the range of its influence all the surrounding

states; exemplifying the dogged perseverance of the Spanish character,

which, notwithstanding repeated defeat, undermined the Arab power by

imperceptible advances, and eventually ridded the Peninsula of its

long-established lords. It is interesting to thread the intricate

narrative of intermarriages, treaties, wars, alliances, and successions,

interspersed with deeds of heroic chivalry and of blackest treachery,

composing the annals of the different northern states of Spain; until at

length, the Christian domination having been borne onward by successive

advantages nearly to the extreme southern shores of the Peninsula, a

marriage unites the two principal kingdoms, and leads to the subjection

of all Spain, as at present, under one monarch.

It is still more attractive to repair subsequently to the country

itself; and from this central, pyramidal summit--elevated by the hand of

Nature to a higher level than the rest of the Peninsula; its bare and

rugged surface exposed to all the less genial influences of the

elements, and crowned by its modern capital, looking down in all

directions, like a feudal castle on the fairer and more fertile regions

subject to its dominion, and for the protection of which it is there

proudly situated,--to take a survey of this extraordinary country, view

the localities immortalized by the eventful passages of its history, and

muse on its still varying destinies.