The Ingenious and Diverting Letters of the Lady—Travels into Spain

‘It is hard to believe, that having Dispositions so far from Gallantry, he should become so suddenly and vehemently in love with the Queen, as he became on the only Rehearsal of her good Qualities, and at the sight of her Picture in Minature, which was shew’d him. He never lets it go out of his Hand; he always holds it to his Heart; He Dialogues with it so prettily, as astonishes all the Courtiers; for he speaks a Language he never spoke: His Passion for the Princess furnishes him with a thousand Thoughts, which he dares not entrust any body with. He thinks no body makes haste enough; and therefore sends fresh Curriers every day to carry his Billets doux, and bring back News of her.

‘When you come to Madrid,’ added he, ‘you will hear, Madam, several Particulars which have without doubt hapned since I was there, and which will perhaps more satisfie your Curiosity than what I have related to you.’ ‘I am very much oblig’d to you,’ answer’d I, ‘for your Civilities; but do me the Favour to oblige me farther, in giving me the true Character of the Spaniards: You know them, and I am perswaded nothing has escap’d your Enquiries; You speaking to me without Passion and Interest, I may reckon my self sure of what you tell me.’ ‘Why believe you, Madam,’ replied he smiling, ‘that I shall speak to you more sincerely than another? There are Reasons which may render me suspected: They are my Masters; I must manage them; And if I be not Politick enough to do it, the Vexation of being constrained to obey them, would tempt me to entertain Notions in their Respect contrary to Truth.’ ‘However it be,’ said I, interrupting him, ‘pray tell me what you know of them.’

‘The Spaniards,’ said he, ‘have always past for Fierce and Glorious: This Glory is mixt with Gravity; and they carry it so far, that one may call it an extravagant Pride: They are Brave, without being Rash; yet they are accused for not being daring enough. They are Cholerick, Revengeful, without shewing any Transport, Liberal without Ostentation, sober in their diet, very Presumptuous in Prosperity, too Rampant in Adversity: They Idolize Women; they are so prepossest in their Favour, that they shew no Discretion in the Choice of their Wives: They are Patient to Excess, Obstinate, Idle, Singular, Philosophisers: And as to the rest, Men of Honour, keeping their Words, tho it cost ’em their Lives. They have a great deal of Wit and Vivacity, easily comprehend, explain themselves in the same manner, and in few Words; They are Prudent, Jealous without measure, Disinterested, bad Oeconomists, Close, Superstitious, great Catholicks, at least in appearance: They are good Poets, and write Verses with great Facility. They would be capable of Nobler Sciences, would they vouchsafe to apply themselves thereto.

‘They have a Greatness of Soul, Elevated Wit, Constancy, a Natural Seriousness, and a Respect for Ladies, as is not seen elsewhere: They have a Set-Behaviour, full of Affectation, intoxicated with their own Merit, hardly ever in this Particular doing Right to that of others. Their Bravery consists in standing Valiantly on the Defensive Part, without giving Ground, and without dreading Danger; but they love not to seek it, which proceeds from their great Judgment: They discern Danger, and avoid it. Their greatest Defect, in my Opinion, is the Passion of Revenge, and the Means they use for this: Their Maxims hereupon are absolutely opposite to Christianity and Honour: When they have receiv’d an Affront, they make him be Assassinated who has offered it. They are not contented with this; for they cause them to be Assassinated likewise whom they have offended, in the Apprehension of being prevented, knowing well, that if they do not kill, they shall be kill’d themselves. They pretend to justifie themselves herein, when they say, That their Enemy having took the first Advantage, they ought to secure themselves of the second: That should they fail herein, they would wrong their Reputation: That you must not fight with a Man that has insulted over you, but put your self in a Condition to punish him, without running half the Danger. It is true, that Impunity authorises this Conduct; for the Priviledge of Churches and Convents in Spain, is to give an assured Retreat to Criminals; And as near as they can, they commit these Villanies hard by a Sanctuary, to have the less way to an Altar; Which you see oft embraced by a Villain, with his Poynard reeking in his Hand, and be-smeared with the Blood of the Murther which he has committed.

‘As to their Persons, they are very lean, little, fine shape, comely Head, good Faces, fine Eyes, well-set Teeth, yellow and duskish Complexion; they will have one walk slowly, commend big Legs, and a little Foot, Shooes without Heels, parting the Hair on both sides, being strait cut, and kept behind their Ears with a great Two-handed Hat, an Habit always Black, instead of a Shirt, Taffity Sleeves, or black Tabby, a Sword of a strange length, with a black Freize Cloak over all this, very strait Breeches, hanging Sleeves, and a Poynard. All this must so dis-figure a Man, let him be otherwise never so well-shaped, that they seem to affect a Garb the most disagreeable; And ones Eyes cannot with any Complacency accustom themselves to this sight.’

Don Frederick would have continued on his Discourse, and I had so much pleasure in hearing him, that I would not have interrupted him; but he broke off himself, having observ’d that the Play was at an end, and considering, that we were to set out early next Morning, he thought I might be desirous of retiring; he therefore with the other Gentlemen, bad me good Night. I rose in effect very soon next Morning, because ’twas a great Journey to Birbiesca, where we intended to lie. We follow’d the River to avoid the Mountains, and past at Oron, a great River, which falls into the Ebre. We a while after entred into so strait a Way, that our Litters could scarce pass: We ascended along a very strait Coast to Pancorvo, whose Castle I saw standing on a rais’d Ground, not far distant: We traverst a great Plain; and this was a Novelty to us, to see an even Country: This here is surrounded with several Mountains, which seem linkt together as a Chain, and especially those of Occa: We must again pass over a little River, before we can come to Birbiesca: This is only a Borough, which has nothing remarkable but its Colledge, and some few pleasant Gardens along the Water. But I may say, we came thither in worse Weather than any we had yet: I was so tired, that as soon as I arriv’d I went to Bed: so that I saw not Don Fernand de Toledo, and the other Gentlemen, till the next Day, at Cartel de Peones. But I should tell you how one is serv’d in these Inns, they being all alike: When you come into one of them, wearied and tired, roasted by the heat of the Sun, or frozen by the Snows (for there is seldom any Temperament between these Two Extreams), you see neither Pot on the Fire, nor Plates wash’d: You enter into the Stable, and from thence to your Chamber; this Stable is ordinarily full of Mules and Muletteers, who make use of their Mules Saddles for Pillows in the night, and in the day-time they serve ’em for Tables: They eat very friendly with their Mules, and are very good Company together.

The Stair-Case by which you go up is very strait, and does rather resemble a sorry Ladder: La Sennoro de la Casa receives you with her Gown tuckt up, and her dangling Sleeves; she takes time to put on her Sunday-Cloathes, whilst you get out of your Litter: and she never omits this; for they are all very Poor and Vain Glorious. You are shewed a Chamber, whose Walls are white enough, hung with a thousand little scurvy Pictures of Saints; the Beds are without Curtains, the Covertures of Cotton, the Sheets as large as Napkins, and the Napkins like Pocket-handkerchiefs; and you must be in some considerable Town to find four or five of them; for in other places there are none, no more than there are Forks: They have only a Cup in the House; and if the Mule-Drivers get first hold of it, which commonly happens, if they please, (for they are serv’d with more Respect than those whom they bring) you must stay patiently till they have done with it, or drink out of an Earthen Pitcher. It is impossible to warm one at the Kitchin-fire, without being choaked, for they have no Chimneys; and ’tis the same in all the Houses on the Road; there is an Hole made in the top of the Ceiling, and the Smoak goes out thence; the Fire is in the midst of the Kitchin: They put what you would have roasted on Tiles, and when ’tis well gril’d on one side, they turn the other: when ’tis gross Meat, they fasten it to a String, and so let it hang on the Fire, and turn it with their Hands; so that the Smoak makes it so black, that it would turn ones Stomach to look on it.

I think there cannot be a better Representation of Hell than these sort of Kitchins, and the Persons in them; for not to speak of this horrible Smoak, which blinds and choaks one, they are a Dozen of Men, and as many Women, blacker than Devils, nasty and stinking like Swine, and clad like Beggars. There are always some of ’em impudently grating on a sorry Guitar, and singing like a Cat a roasting. The Women have all of ’em their Hair about their Ears, and you would take ’em for Bedlamites; they have Glass Necklaces, which hang twisted about their Necks like Ropes of Onions, but however serve to cover the Nastiness of their Skin. They are as great Thieves as any are in Jayls, and they are urgent to serve you only to have an opportunity to steal something of you, though it be but a Pin.

Before all things, the Mistress of the House brings you her little Children, who are bareheaded in the midst of Winter, though but of a Day old: she makes ’em touch your Cloaths, she rubs their Eyes with them, their Cheeks, Throat, and Hands. This seems as if one was become a Relick, and could heal all Diseases. These Ceremonies over, you are askt, If you will eat any thing; and though at Mid-night, you must send to the Butchery, the Market, the Tavern, the Bakers; in fine, to all parts of the Town, to gather wherewith to make a sorry Meal. For though the Mutton here be very tender, their way of frying it with Oyl, is not to every Bodies Relish. Here are great store of Partridges, and those very large; they are not very fat, but dry; and to make ’em drier, they roast ’em to a Coal. The Pidgeons here are excellent; and in several places here is good Fish, especially Bessugosses, which have the taste of a Trout, and of which they make Pasties, which would be good, were they not stuff’d with Garlick, Saffron, and Pepper. Their Bread is white enough, and sweet, that one would think it made up with Sugar; but it is ill wrought, and so little baked, that it is as heavy as Lead in the Stomach: it has the shape of a flat Cake, and is not much thicker than one’s finger. The Wine is good, and Fruits in their season, especially Grapes, which are very large, and of delicate taste. You may reckon yourself certain of a good Desart. You have Sallads here of such good Lettice as the World cannot afford better.

Do not think (Dear Cousin) ’tis sufficient to say, Go fetch such things, to have them; for not very seldom you can meet with nothing: But supposing you find what you would have, you must give out your Money beforehand: so that your Meat is paid for before you have begun to eat it; for the Master of the Inn is only allowed to Lodge you: they alledge for a Reason, That it is not just one only Person should go away with all the Profit from Travellers, it being better the Money should be dispersed.

You enter not any Inn to Dine, but carry your Provision with you, and stop at the Bank of some River, where the Mule-Drivers bate their Mules; and this is with Oats or Barley, with chopt Straw, which they carry with them in great Sacks; for as to Hay they give ’em none. It is not allow’d a Woman to tarry above two Days in an Inn on the Road, unless she can offer good Reasons. And here’s enough in relation to Inns, and the Manner of your Treatment therein.

After Supper these Gentlemen play’d at Ombre, and I not being strong enough to play against them, I went shares with Don Frederic de Cardonne; and Don Fernand drew near the Fireside to me; he told me, He could have wisht my time would permit me to pass by Vailladolid; that it is the most pleasant Town of Old Castille, it having been for a great while the Mansion of the Kings of Spain; and that they have a Palace there fit for them. That as to him, he had Relations there would be infinitely pleased to Entertain me; and would shew me the Dominicans Church, which the Dukes of Lerma have founded; that it was very Stately, and the Portal of singular Beauty, by means of the Figures and Embossed Work, which enrich it: That in the Colledge of the same Convent the French see there with great satisfaction, all the Walls full of Flower de Luces; it being said, a Bishop who depended on the King of France, had been at the Charge of Painting them. He added, They would have carried me to the Religioses of St. Claire, to shew me in the Choir of their Church, the Tomb of a Castillan Knight, whence ’tis said, issues out Accents and Groans every time any of his Family are near their Deaths. I smiled at this, as being doubtful of the Truth of such kind of Relations: ‘You give not Credit to what I say,’ continued he, ‘neither would I engage for the Truth of it, though all the Country thereabouts are so fully perswaded of it, that you would be suspected for an Heretick should you question it. But it is certain there is a Bell in Arragon, in a small Town call’d Villilla, on the Ebre, which is about fifty Foot compass, and it happens sometimes to sound of itself, it being not perceiveable to be agitated by any Winds or Earthquakes: In a word, by no visible thing. It first Tolls, and afterwards, by intervals, Rings out, as well in the Day as the Night: When it is heard, it is not doubted but it denounces some sad Accident; which is what happened in 1601, on Thursday the 13th of June, till Saturday the 15th of the same Month; it ceased then to Ring, but it began again on Corpus Christi, when they were on the point of making the Procession. It was heard likewise when Alphonsus the Fifth, K. of Arragon, went into Italy to take Possession of the Kingdom of Naples. It was heard at the Death of Charles the Fifth. It denoted the Departure of Don Sebastion, King of Portugal, for Africk. The Extremity of King Philip the Second: and the Decease of his last Wife Q. Ann.’ ‘You would have me to believe you, Don Fernand,’ said I; ‘Perhaps I shall seem too obstinate in standing out all this while, but you will agree these are Matters one may lawfully doubt of.’ ‘Nay, Madam,’ replied he, with a pleasant Air, ‘I tell you nothing but what I can have a thousand Witnesses to justifie; but perhaps you will sooner believe Don Esteve de Carvajal in a thing as extraordinary in his Country.’ He at the same time call’d to him, demanding of him, ‘Whether ’twere not true, that there is in the Convent of Cordoüa a Clock which fails not to Ring every time a Religious is to die; so that the time is known to a Day?’ Don Esteve confirm’d what Don Fernand said: and though I remain’d not absolutely convinc’d, yet I made a shew as if I was.

‘You pass so quickly through Old Castille,’ continued Don Fernand, ‘that you will not have time to see what’s most remarkable: The Picture of the Blessed Virgin is talkt of far and near, which was found miraculously stampt on a Rock; it belongs to the Religio’s Augustines d’ Avila, and several Persons go there out of Devotion; but one has no less Curiosity to see certain Mines of Salt, which are near there, in a village call’d Mengraville; you descend above two hundred Steps under Ground, and then enter into a vast Cavern form’d by Nature, whose Top, or Roof, is upheld by one only Pillar of Chrystalin Salt, of astonishing Largeness and Colour. Near this place, in the Town of Soria, you see a great Bridge without a River, and a great River without a Bridge, the River being forc’d out of its place by an Earthquake.

‘But if you go as far as Medina del Campo,’ added he, ‘I am sure the Inhabitants will give you a welcome Entrance, only because you are of the French Nation, whom they much affect, to distinguish themselves hereby from the Sentiments of the other Castillians: Their Town is so priviledg’d that the K. of Spain has not the Power to create any Officers, nor the Pope to confer Benefices: this Right belongs to the Townsmen, and they often fall together by the Ears, in the chusing of their Magistrates and Ecclesiasticks.

‘One of the Rarities of this Country is the Aquaduct of Segovia, which is five Leagues in length; it has above two hundred Arches of extraordinary heighth, tho’ in several places there are two standing on one another; and ’tis all built on Free Stone, there having been no Mortar, or any Cement to joyn them: This is lookt on as one of the Romans Works, or at least as worthy to be so. The River which is at the end of the Town surrounds the Castle, and serves it for a Ditch; it is built on a Rock. Among several things remarkable, you see the Effigies of the Kings of Spain, who have Reign’d for several Years: And there is no Town but Segovia and Seville where Money is Coyned, and the Pieces of Eight which are made at the former Places are held to be the best; and this is by means of the River which turns certain Mills that stamp the Money. Here are likewise most curious Walks along a Meadow planted with Elm Trees, whose Leaves are so thick and large, that the greatest Heats of the Sun cannot pierce them.’ ‘I want not Curiosity,’ said I to him, ‘for all things which deserve it; but I at present want Time to see them: However, I should be very glad to arrive timely at Burgos, to view the Town.’ ‘Which is to say, Madam,’ replied Don Fernand, ‘we must lose your Company, and let you retire.’

He gave notice thereof to the other Gentlemen, who gave over their Play, and we thus separated.

I rose this Morning before Day; and I end this Letter at Burgos, where I now arrived: Thus, Dear Cousin, I shall send you nothing of this Day, but shall take the first occasion to acquaint you with what befals me.

Yours.

From Burgos,

Feb. 27, 1673.

Letter IV

WE could sensibly perceive in arriving at Burgos, that this Town is colder than any of those we past; and ’tis likewise said, you have none of those excessive Heats which are intolerable in other Parts of Spain: The Town stands where you descend the Mountain, and reaches to the Plain as far as the River, which washes the foot of the Wall: the Streets are very strait and even: the Castle is not great, but very strong, and is seen on the top of the Mountain: A little lower is the Triumphant Arch of Fernando Gonsales, which the Curious do much admire. This Town was the first that was conquer’d from the Mores; and the Kings of Spain have long resided here; ’tis the Capital of Old Castille; it holds the first Rank in the two States of the two Castilles, although Toledo disputes it with her: You see her fine Buildings; and Velasco’s Palace is very stately. Here are in all the broad Streets and spacious Places, Fountains, with Statues, some of which are good Pieces; but the finest sight is the Cathedral, which is so large, that Mass is said in five several places of it, without any disturbance to each other: the Architecture is so exquisitely wrought, that it may pass among the Gothick Buildings for a Master-Piece of Art: and this is so much the more remarkable, in that they build very sorrily in Spain; in some places this is through Poverty, and in others want of Stone and Lime: I am told that even at Madrid you see Houses of Earth, and the finest are made with Brick, cemented with the same, for want of Lime. To pass from the Town to the Suburbs of Bega, you go over three Stone Bridges: the Gate which answers that of Santa Maria, stands high, with the Image of the Virgin upon it: this Suburb contains the greatest part of the Convents and Hospitals; there is a great one founded by Philip the Second, to receive the Pilgrims which go to St. James, and which entertains them for a Day. The Abbey of Mille Flores, whose Building is very stately, is not far distant. You see here in this Suburb several Gardens which are watered with Fountains and pleasant Springs; the River serves for a Channel: And you find in a great Park inclosed with Walls, pleasant Walks at all times of the Year.

I would have seen the Crucifix in the Augustines Convent; it is placed in a Chappel of the Cloyster, large and dark enough, so that you could hardly discern it, were it not for the Lamps, which are continually burning, they’r above an hundred; some are of Gold, and others of Silver, of so extraordinary a size, that they cover all the Vault of this Chappel: there are sixty Silver candlesticks of a length exceeding the tallest Man, and so heavy that two Men cannot lift ’em: they stand on the ground on both sides of the Altar; those which are upon it are of Massy Gold: You see between ’em two Crosses of the same, set out with Precious Stones, and Crowns hanging over the Altar, adorn’d with Pearls and Diamonds of great Lustre: The Chappel is hung with Tapistry, wrought with Gold; it is so laden with rich Gifts, that there’s hardly room to put ’em in; so that part of ’em are kept in the Treasury.

The Holy Crucifix stands on the Altar, near the natural bigness, it is covered with three Curtains one on another, all embroidered with Pearls and Diamonds: When they open them, which is not done without great Ceremony, and for Persons of Quality, several Bells are rung, every one falls on his Knees: and it must be granted, that this place and sight strikes one with an Awful Regard: The Crucifix is of Carv’d Work, and cannot be better made; its Carnation is very natural; it is covered from the Breasts to the Feet with a fine Linnen, in several Foulds or Pleats, which makes it look like a loose Jerkin, which in my Opinion, is not over-agreeable.

It is commonly held, that Nicodemus made it; but those who are for making every thing Miraculous, will have it brought down from Heaven, they know not how nor when. I was told, certain Monks of this Town had once stole it, and convey’d it away; but it took a convenient time to give ’em the slip, and was found the next Morning in the Chappel in its usual place: These honest People being enraged, that it should serve ’em such a Trick, mustered up their Forces, and violently laid Hands on’t the second time, but to as little purpose; for ’twould by no means stay with ’em: However, it works Miracles, and is one of the chief Objects of Devotion in Spain: The Religious tell you, it sweats every Friday.

I was going into my Inn, when we saw the Sieur de Cardonne’s Valet de Chambre, running as fast as he could after us; he was booted, and three Friers scowring after him: I was over-rash in my Judgment; for I could not but think he had stole something in this rich Chappel, and was taken in the Fact; but his Master, who was with me, having demanded of him, What put him on such full speed? He answer’d, He went into the Chappel of the Holy Crucifix with his Spurs on, and the Fryers had kept him in custody, to get Money of him, but that he was gotten out of their Clutches, but they were now upon the Hunt for him. They make it a Forfeit, as well as others, for a Man to go with Spurs into these Holy Places.

The Town is not very great; it is adorned with a spacious Place; here are high Pillars which bear up very fine Lodgings. The Bull-Feasts are kept here; for the People are much delighted with this sort of Divertisement. There is also a very well-built Bridge, long and large: the River which passes under it, bathes a Meadow, on the Bank of which you see Allies of Trees, which form a most delicious Walk. Trade was heretofore considerable, but it is of late much diminisht. The best Castillan is here spoken; and the Men are naturally Souldiers, so that when the King has need of them, he finds here great Numbers, and better Men than elsewhere.

After Supper our Company set to Play, as heretofore: Don Sancho Sanniento was for yielding his place to any one, pretending ’twas his Right to Entertain me this Evening. I knew he had lately return’d from Sicily; I askt him, Whether he had been one of those who had help’d to Chastize those Rebellious People? ‘Alas, Madam,’ said he, ‘the Marquess de Las Navas was sufficient to punish them beyond what their Crime deserv’d: I was at Naples, in the design to pass into Flanders, where I have Relations of the same Name. The Marquess de Los Veles, Vice-Roy of Naples, engaged me to leave my first Project, and embark myself with the Marquess de Las Navas, whom the King sent into Sicily: We set Sail in two Vessels of Majorca, and arrived at Messina the sixth of January. Having sent no notice of his coming, and no body expecting it, he was not receiv’d with the Honours paid commonly to the Vice-Roys: But in truth, his Intentions were so cruel against these poor People, that his Entrance should have been made in Tears.