I 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 i 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
OLD SPAIN AND NEW SPAIN 
 
 BY HENRY M. FIELD, D.D. 
 
 AUTHOE OP " FEOM THE LAKES OP KILLABNET TO THE GOLDEN HOBN, 
 
 "FROM EGYPT TO JAPAN," "ON THE DESEBT," "AMONG THE HOLY HILLS," 
 
 AND "THE GBEEK ISLANDS AND TUBKEY AFTEB THE WAB." 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 1888 
 
COPYBIGHT, 1888. BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNEB'S SONS. 
 
TO EDWARD EVERETT HALE. 
 
 There is a luck in being born. It must have been a 
 good star that shone upon the day of my birth, since it 
 was the same in which you came into the world, for which 
 you are sometimes pleased to speak of me as a twin-bro- 
 ther. But I can only think of you as an elder brother, 
 conceding to you the precedence by which you got the start 
 of me at the very beginning of life, and have kept it ever 
 since. I have always looked up to you as both an older and 
 a wiser man, and have been content to follow in your steps. 
 One of the good ways in which you have gone before, and 
 I have followed after, has led me to the pleasant land of 
 Spain, of which you have written in such a delightful man- 
 ner as almost to discourage further description, except that 
 the field is so rich that there is always something for the 
 latest gleaner. As you look back lingeringly to those re- 
 ceding shores, you may welcome even these light sketches 
 of a land that is dear to us both. And now, as we began 
 the race of life together, let us keep on with even pace to 
 the end, to lie down at last on the warm breast of the same 
 grand old Commonwealth, you by the sea and I among the 
 hills, content if it may be truly said that we were not 
 unworthy sons of such a mother. 
 
 HENRY M. FIELD. 
 3 
 
 *^xj! 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 On the night of the 14th of December, 1886, the Cortes 
 in Madrid was crowded to hear Castelar. It was a critical 
 moment. There had just been an insurrection, which had 
 nearly proved a revolution. This sinister event led some 
 to take gloomy views of the future of the country. Cas- 
 telar was more hopeful, and to justify his confidence he 
 reviewed the history of Spain since he had been on the 
 stage, in the course of which he recalled this startling remi- 
 niscence : that less than twenty years ago Senor Sagasta, 
 the Primp. Minister, to whom he pointed sitting at the head 
 of the ministerial bench ; and Senor Martos, the President 
 of the chamber; and himself were all under sentence of 
 death / To-day these proscribed men, condemned for no 
 crime but that of loving their country too well, are 'the 
 leaders of Spain. Sagasta is the head of the government ; 
 Martos is the first man of the chamber ; and Castelar, 
 though in the opposition, as he is a Republican, is the 
 great orator and tribune of the people. This single fact 
 shows how wide is the gulf that separates Old Spain from 
 New Spain the land of tyrants, of Charles V. and Philip 
 II., from the land of freedom. To set these contrasts, in 
 sharp relief, and thus place the Dead Past alongside of the 
 Living Present, is the object of this little volume, by which 
 the writer hopes to engage the interest of his American 
 readers for a country which has had a great history, and 
 which may have a not less glorious future. 
 
 5 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. IN SIGHT OF THE PYRENEES. PAU AND LOUBDES 9 
 
 
 II. BIARBITZ. CBOSSING THE BOBDEB 20 
 
 III. SAN SEBASTIAN. THE BASQUES AND THE CABLIST WAB. . . 28 
 
 IV. THE BIBTHPLACE OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA 39 
 
 V. BUBGOS : THE CATHEDBAL AND MONASTEBY 62 
 
 VI. INTRODUCTION TO THE CAPITAL 78 
 
 VII. THE QUEEN BEGENT AND THE LITTLE KING 91 
 
 VIII. THE GOBIES. DEBATE ON THE LATE INSUBBECTION 101 
 
 IX. CASTELAB 117 
 
 X. THE DECADENCE OF SPAIN. THE INQUISITION 137 
 
 XI. A REVOLUTION. FOUB EXPEBIMENTS OF GOVEBNMENT. ... 151 
 
 XII. THE ESCOBIAL. PHILIP II. THE BUBIAL- PLACE OF KINGS. 168 
 
 XIII. THE CITY OF TOLEDO 191 
 
 XIV. THE CITY AND MOSQUE OF COBDOVA 204 
 
 XV. THE ALHAMBBA. THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOB 213 
 
 XVI. THE ABCHBISHOP OF GBANADA 228 
 
 XVII. PBOTESTANTISM AND RELIGIOUS LIBEBTY 288 
 
 XVIII. MIDNIGHT MASS IN THE CATHEDBAL OF SEVILLE 261 
 
 XIX. PlCTUBES AND PALACES, BULL-FIGHTS AND BEGGABS 275 
 
 XX. SPAIN AND FBANCE. THE DON QUIXOTE OF TO-DAY 290 
 
 7 
 
CHAPTEE I. 
 IN SIGHT OF THE PYRENEES PAU AND LOURDES. 
 
 Spain may be said to begin as soon as we come in sight 
 of the Pyrenees ; and no sooner did that chain of moun- 
 tains show itself above the horizon, than I felt that I was 
 coming into a presence which should not be too suddenly 
 approached. I do not like to rush into a new country, but 
 would linger on its borders, taking a distant view, before 
 entering on the unknown : especially with a country like 
 Spain, which (strangely as it may sound) begins in France. 
 For, though the Pyrenees divide the two countries, and 
 he who stands on their ridge can look down into both, 
 yet the mountains are more Spanish than French. The 
 tide of invasion and conquest has flowed and reflowed 
 through their passes from Hannibal to Napoleon, so that 
 their populations have become intermingled ; and to this 
 day the Basques, the most ancient people of Spain, are 
 numerous in the French province of the Lower Pyrenees 
 as well as along the shores of the Bay of Biscay. 
 
 The Autumn of 1886 had nearly gone : it was almost 
 the very last day, that I came from Paris to Bordeaux, 
 from which I might have gone on directly to Bayonne, 
 and in a few hours been in Spain. But I could not pass 
 
10 BORDEAUX. 
 
 the fourth city in France Bordeaux ranking next to 
 Paris, Lyons, and Marseilles. We did not arrive till 
 after sunset, but as we rode across the long bridge which 
 spans the Garonne, and saw the lights reaching far up 
 and down the river, and afterwards rode through the 
 streets and squares, we saw enough to show us how large 
 and beautiful it was. As a port it has not the same ad- 
 vantage as Havre, in being directly on the sea. It is ap- 
 proached by a river, but so is New Orleans, so is Liver- 
 pool, so is London itself. The Garonne broadens as it 
 approaches the sea, and forms a basin in which a whole 
 navy might find shelter. It was crowded with ships from 
 every part of the world, including steamers from almost 
 every European, and from some transatlantic, ports. Bor- 
 deaux has always had a close connection with America. 
 Here Franklin landed more than a hundred years ago, 
 when he came to seek the aid of France in our War of 
 Independence a pleasant memory to an American that 
 evening, as he walked about the brilliantly lighted city. 
 The next morning, as the train left very early, I had to 
 rise while it was yet dark. The lamps were still burning 
 as I rode through the silent streets ; but the dawn was 
 beginning to appear, with the promise of a beautiful day, 
 and the masts of the shipping stood up tall and clear 
 against the sky. 
 
 For an hour or two, as we keep southward, the land- 
 scape is cheerless almost to desolation. No part of France 
 is more dreary than the Landes those long stretches of 
 unbroken plain, grown up with pines. But as you turn 
 eastward, and bear away from the coast, the change is 
 complete. The monotonous landscape gives place to an 
 undulating region, where pleasant villages, with their 
 thatched roofs, and the one church tower rising out from 
 among the trees, indicate that we are entering that beau- 
 
PAU. 11 
 
 tiful portion of Southern France which lies along the 
 slopes of the Pyrenees. As we advance nearer to the 
 mountains, we come into their very shadows, which the 
 southern sun casts northward into the valleys of France. 
 Under those mighty shadows we feel that we are indeed 
 in the presence of a new country and a new people. 
 
 One o'clock brought us to Pau. The train stops beside 
 the Gave, a river issuing from the mountains, which, when 
 swollen by the melting snows, becomes a torrent that 
 carries destruction in its path. Above the river-bed 
 rises a hill a hundred feet high, that furnishes the mag- 
 nificent site of the town. Here it stands on a broad 
 terrace looking southward, so that it at once faces the 
 mountains, and gets the full force of the Winter sun. 
 Climbing the steep ascent, I was soon installed in the 
 Hotel de France, in a room which took in the whole view, 
 embracing the valley bounded by the Coteaux (or as we 
 should say, the Foot Hills), beyond which rose the long 
 line of the Pyrenees. What a vision ! I had not seen 
 such a sight since that day, never to be forgotten, when I 
 stood on the lower range of the Himalayas at sunrise, and 
 looked away a hundred miles to the awful heights which 
 form the backbone of Asia. A comparison which will be 
 familiar to a greater number of my readers who have 
 travelled in Switzerland, is the view from Berne of the 
 Bernese Oberland. But there is no need of compari- 
 son. That glittering chain of snow-covered peaks in- 
 stantly fascinates the eye a fascination which I enjoyed 
 without an interruption. For three days that I was in 
 Pau, the view was not once obscured. I had it by sun- 
 rise and sunset I cannot say by moonlight (for it was 
 not the time of the full moon), when the effect must be 
 still greater, as the silent peaks stand like sentinels keep- 
 ing their midnight watch along the heavenly battlements. 
 
12 PAU. 
 
 Besides its picturesque situation, Pau is a place of great 
 historical interest. It has one of the grandest castles in 
 France, five centuries old, in which Henry IV. was born, 
 and where they still show his cradle. It is hard to think 
 of a King, whose figure we are accustomed' to see on mon- 
 uments and statues, clad in mail, as a*baby that was rocked 
 in this pretty shell ! But here he was carried about in 
 his nurse's arms, and played under the trees, and grew to 
 boyhood and manhood, till he became the great " Henry 
 of Navarre," whose " white plume " was always in the front 
 of battle. 
 
 The grounds about the castle are laid out in pretty 
 walks, which in the season are thronged with strangers 
 from many countries, most of all by the English, who are 
 attracted by the climate, which is as soft as at any place on 
 the Eiviera. Every Winter there is a large English colony, 
 with its English church and its English club ; with the 
 usual accompaniment of parties and balls and races ; by 
 which those who cannot exist without such excitement, 
 keep up a perpetual round of gaiety. Happily the place 
 is not confined to them. Others of a more quiet turn can 
 enjoy the delicious climate, and the excursions through 
 the valleys and over the hills, and even (if they so incline) 
 to the tops of the mountains. How beautiful all this 
 country is, I too felt one soft, summery afternoon, when 
 I took a ride across the river to the top of the neigh- 
 boring hills. These Coteaux lie not parallel to the river, 
 but at right angles to it, and in ridges, up which the car- 
 riage climbed slowly, winding hither and thither to gain 
 the ascent, from which we looked down into deep valleys 
 on either side, richly cultivated ; while in every direction 
 were seen the chateaux of wealthy Frenchmen or English- 
 men (one was pointed out to me that had been recently 
 purchased by an American lady), who make it their retreat 
 
REFORMERS BEFORE THE REFORMATION. 13 
 
 for the Winter. The pleasure of the excursion was greatly 
 increased by the company of the daughter of the pastor 
 of the French church, with her sister-in-law, the wife 
 of another pastor of an ancient church in the Pyrenees, 
 which, in spite of all trials and persecutions, has kept its 
 faith unstained for hundreds of years. 
 
 This southern part of France has a history which ought 
 to be known by every Protestant. We are now in ancient 
 Languedoc, which, with Provence farther to the east, formed 
 the country of the Albigenses, who were Keformers before 
 the Keformation, holding that faith hundreds of years be- 
 fore Luther was born. They were a people refined and 
 cultivated, having made great progress in science and 
 learning and the arts. Says Macaulay in his famous re- 
 view of Kanke's History of the Popes : 
 
 "This country, singularly favored by nature, was in the 
 twelfth century the most flourishing and civilized portion of 
 Western Europe. It was in no wise a part of France. It had a 
 distinct political existence, a distinct national character, distinct 
 usages, and a distinct speech. The soil was fruitful and well 
 cultivated, and amidst the cornfields and vineyards arose many 
 rich cities, each of which was a little republic ; and many stately 
 castles, each of which contained a miniature of an Imperial 
 Court. It was there that the spirit of chivalry first laid aside 
 its terrors, first took a humane and graceful form, first appeared 
 as the inseparable associate of art and literature, of courage and 
 love. . . . 
 
 4 ' The language of Provence was already the language of the 
 learned and polite, and was employed by numerous writers, stu- 
 dious of all the arts of composition and versification. A litera- 
 ture rich in ballads, in war-songs, in satire, and above all in 
 amatory poetry, amused the leisure of the knights and ladies 
 whose fortified mansions adorned the banks of the Rhone and 
 Garonne. With civilization had come freedom of thought. . . . 
 
 " The danger to the hierarchy was indeed formidable. Only 
 one transalpine nation had emerged from barbarism, and that 
 nation had thrown off all respect for Rome. Only one of the 
 
14 EXTERMINATION OF THE ALBIGENSES. 
 
 vernacular languages of Europe had yet been extensively em- 
 ployed for literary purposes, and that language was a machine in 
 the hands of heretics. The geographical position of the secta- 
 ries made the danger peculiarly formidable. They occupied a 
 central region communicating directly with France, with Italy, 
 and with Spain. The provinces which were still untainted, were 
 separated from each other by this infected district. Under these 
 circumstances, it seemed probable that a single generation would 
 suffice to spread the reformed doctrine to Lisbon, to London, 
 and to Naples. But this was not to be. Kome cried for help to 
 the warriors of Northern France. She appealed at once to their 
 superstition and their cupidity. ... A war, distinguished even 
 among wars of religion by its merciless atrocity, destroyed the 
 Albigensian heresy, and with that heresy the prosperity, the civ- 
 ilization, the literature, the national existence, of what was once 
 the most opulent and enlightened part of the great European 
 family." 
 
 This was one of the greatest calamities recorded in the 
 annals of Europe. Those students of history who see every- 
 thing through a veil of optimism, may argue, by some 
 mysterious process of reasoning which they do not ex- 
 plain, that such reverses are in the end for the good of 
 mankind. I cannot see it so. To me the crushing out of 
 the Albigenses, their faith and their civilization, was an 
 unspeakable calamity to France and to the world. It was 
 so much lost in the influences which lift up a nation 
 a set-back in the advance of humanity which is only re- 
 covered in the lapse of ages. 
 
 What sort of faith was substituted for that which was 
 destroyed, one has a good opportunity to see here, as it is 
 but a two-hours' ride from Pau to Lourdes, the most 
 famous place of pilgrimage in Europe. I gave up a fore- 
 noon to pay it a visit. As an excursion it was delightful. 
 The morning was cool ; a hoar-frost lay on the ground, 
 which slowly dissolved with the rising of the sun ; and 
 the air grew warmer till we had a perfect Indian-Summer 
 
LOURDES. 15 
 
 day. Though it was near the beginning of "Winter, the 
 men, and the women also, were at work in the fields. As 
 the peasants universally wear the flat caps worn by the 
 Scotch, they might be taken for Highlanders. 
 
 The position of Lourdes is one of the most picturesque 
 that can be imagined. It lies in a deep valley, nestled at 
 the foot of the mountains, at one end of which is the 
 famous grotto, in which a young girl of the village is said 
 to have received some years ago a visit from the Virgin 
 Mary ! She told her story to her family and neighbors, 
 who went to see the heavenly visitant, but saw nothing. 
 Nevertheless, the girl, when she went alone, was favored 
 with repeated interviews. Such was her story, to which 
 she adhered till she died. For a time it passed as a child's 
 tale. But at length* it dawned on the minds of some 
 priests whether cunning or credulous I will not presume 
 to say that here was the nucleus for a great revival of 
 faith ; and accordingly the miraculous visitation was de- 
 clared to be authentic, and the devout flocked to the spot 
 in great numbers. In the first six months there were a 
 hundred and fifty thousand pilgrims. In a few years there 
 rose over the grotto a stately church, which, large as it is, 
 was all too small for the multitudes who came from all 
 parts of Europe to obtain, not only spiritual grace, but 
 " gifts of healing." The grounds about it were laid out 
 like those of a large watering-place, which must provide 
 for the influx of a multitude without number. When there 
 is a great pilgrimage, the enthusiasm rises to a pitch of 
 wild excitement. The church is crowded at all hours of 
 the day, and far into the night. All the approaches are 
 blocked up, and not unfrequently the hillside is covered 
 with a dense mass of kneeling pilgrims. The scene is 
 very impressive, especially at night, when a vast proces- 
 sion moves up the hill, bearing lights and singing hymns 
 
16 THE CHURCH. 
 
 with a spirit that is thrilling. Dr. Vincent, in his charm- 
 ing volume " In the Shadow of the Pyrenees," says that 
 he was himself so moved that he joined the swelling chorus 
 that waked the echoes of the hills. 
 
 Of all this I saw nothing, for " the season " was over, 
 the pilgrims had come and gone ; but the church was 
 there, a visible sign of the devotion that " the visitation " 
 has inspired. As I approached the door, a couple of women 
 dressed in black (who seemed to disguise their occupation 
 as beggars by assuming the dress of a Sisterhood) appealed 
 in a whining tone for alms, offering " to light a candle for 
 me " (of which they had a dozen in their hands) " before 
 the shrine of the Virgin." Preferring to get whatever 
 spiritual benefit there might be for myself, I entered and 
 found the large church richly decorated, its arches hung 
 with banners, and its walls literally covered with inscrip- 
 tions of gratitude for miraculous deliverances. When the 
 flood-tide of pilgrims is at its height, the press is relieved 
 in part by an overflow from the church into the crypt 
 below, where there are numerous altars at which masses 
 are being constantly said, and confessionals at which priests 
 are hearing penitents and giving absolution. But with 
 all this squeezing together of compact masses of humanity, 
 the space is so utterly inadequate that the faithful are now 
 building another church, not in place of the old, but in 
 addition to it. It stands in front of the former, but as it is 
 on a lower level, does not hide it from view. Circular in 
 shape, it is set within the wide-embracing arms of two im- 
 mense flights of steps that sweep round the hill, leading to 
 the church above. The walls are of great thickness, which, 
 with the massive pillars, will support a dome like that of 
 the Pantheon in Kome, through which the dim light will 
 fall on thousands of pilgrims kneeling on the ample pave- 
 ment, and making the arches ring with their Ave Marias. 
 
THE GROTTO. 17 
 
 After seeing the church, I asked the way to the grotto, 
 when a young priest who was about to visit it offered to 
 conduct me. As we passed the door, he dipped his hand 
 in the holy water and extended it to me. I awkwardly 
 gave him the back of my hand, but he still held his hand 
 suspended, when I turned to him an open palm, and re- 
 ceived the sacred touch upon one of my finger-tips. I 
 hope it did me good. In the grotto only a few were 
 kneeling, but evidently with the most fervent devotion. 
 It was hung with crutches cast away by the cripples, whose 
 limbs had been miraculously restored. I looked on, of 
 course, with proper respect, and as I turned away took 
 one of the tin cups that are placed below the fountain 
 for the service of pilgrims, and drank of the water. It 
 was pure and sweet, like that of one of our New England 
 springs " that run among the hills," though I did not de- 
 tect in it any miraculous virtue, nor feel made in any wise 
 stronger or better by it. Nor could I discover why any- 
 body should drink it so eagerly, or carry it away, as hav- 
 ing an efficacy which no other " waters of Israel " could 
 supply. And yet it is regularly bottled up like any min- 
 eral water, Vichy or Apollinaris, and sent to all parts of 
 the world. Evidently " the business " is " worked for all 
 it is worth." 
 
 Looking at it as religious worship, one is struck with the 
 way in which all homage and adoration, as well as thanks- 
 giving, is made to centre, not in God nor in Christ, but in 
 the Virgin Mary, to whom every inscription is addressed, 
 with thanks for spiritual grace, or for restoration from 
 some incurable malady. The repetition of this form of 
 pious devotion strikes a Protestant painfully, as if she 
 were the only source through which blessings from God 
 could be obtained. He who is the everlasting Son of the 
 Father, is put quite in the background, if not entirely for- 
 
IS HOMAGE TO THE VIRGIN. 
 
 gotten, in the chorus of supplication and of thanksgiving 
 to His human mother. After reading these inscriptions to 
 satiety, it was a relief to leave the church, and climb the 
 neighboring hill, which is surmounted by a colossal cruci- 
 fix, on which appears the body of our Lord. Here at 
 least was something which spoke, not of Mary, but of her 
 greater Son; and looking up to that Divine SufiV 
 found myself repeating with an energy made more intense 
 by tike contrast with the Are Marias in the church below : 
 
 " Jesus, LoTer of my soul, 
 Let me to Thy bosom fly!" 
 
 I haTe no wish to speak lightly of the faith of ai 
 my fellow-beings. So long as it gives comfort to any poor, 
 stricken human heart, let them keep it and enjoy it Yet 
 if asked what I think of all this, I must say in all frank- 
 ness that it seems to me the extreme of superstition, found- 
 ed on a tale as absurd as ever imposed on the credulity of 
 mankind. Yet as Macaulay well argues, beliefs in the 
 supernatural are not subject to the ordinary rules of evi- 
 dence, and men of intelligence who use their understand- 
 ing in their business affairs, wifl accept without question 
 the most childish tales, and proceed to construct on them 
 a system of religious faith. 
 
 "But the bodily healings, the wonderful cures, what 
 hare you to say to these ? tf I have nothing to say to them 
 until I know more about them, or can know without some 
 personal investigation. I certainly do not accept the 
 stories toid by the invalids themselves, for there is nothing 
 on which men and women are more liable to be dev 
 than their own bodily condition. It is hard to set limits 
 to the power of the mind over the body. A sudden 
 emotion of fear may stop the action of the heart so as to 
 cause instant death without a blow, or any apparent cause, 
 external or internal So a powerful action of the mind. 
 
PAMTFUL IMPRESSION. 19 
 
 a strong hope of relief, may produce such a reaction upon 
 the system as shall have a restoring power that might 
 almost bring the dead to life. All this is feMttfJi^r to pity* 
 sicians, and involves no miracle whatever. 
 
 Further, there in something very revolting in the way in 
 which the whole thing is turned into a speculation. It has 
 become the business of the town. It brings pilgrims by 
 tens of thousands into the little place every year, who 
 depart leaving large sums of money behind them. And 
 the priests who flock to the scene, find it a convenient 
 means of restoring the faith that was growing weaker and 
 weaker. Thus the whole affair is managed apparently 
 with a double purpose : with the cool calculation of busi- 
 ness, and all the resources of superstition. 
 
 On the whole, the impression was very painful Not 
 only did it not strengthen my religious faith, but it pro- 
 voked a reaction, which tended strongly to throw me into 
 a state of unbelief. If anything could make me a skeptic, 
 it would be to witness such scenes as this. As I turned 
 away, I had to struggle anew against doubts, from which I 
 could recover only by confessing : " Lord, I believe : help 
 Thou mine unbelief" ; and as I rode back to Pau, won- 
 dering at all that I had seen, I could but fear that it should 
 make me a worse rather than a better man ; and again and 
 again did I whisper to myself : " O my God ! in this dark- 
 ness and tumult of the mind ; and in all the doubts and 
 fears that beset this mortal state ; let me never fall from 
 Thee!" 
 
CHAPTEE H. 
 BIARRITZ CROSSING THE BORDER. 
 
 " In that sunny corner where the waves of the Bay of 
 Biscay wash over a sandy barrier, and mingle with the 
 waters of the Bidassoa stream " (so begins a recent novel, 
 the scene of which is laid in Pau), " they tell the ancient 
 story that a favored mortal won from the gods permission 
 to ask three blessings for Spain. He asked that her sons 
 should be brave, her daughters beautiful, and her govern- 
 ment good. The first two were granted, but the third 
 refused : for," said the answer, " already she is an earthly 
 paradise, and were this last blessing hers, the very gods 
 themselves would desert Elysium, and go down to dwell 
 in Spain." 
 
 Leaving this pretty fancy to take care of itself, I was 
 content, having left Pau in the morning, to find myself in 
 the afternoon " in that sunny corner of the Bay of Biscay," 
 which seems to unite all the charms of land and sea. 
 Having to wait some hours at Bayonne for the train which 
 was to bring me into Spain, I took a carriage and drove 
 out five miles on a long, straight avenue to Biarritz 
 n, sheltered nook, that looks out upon a horizon partly of 
 mountains and partly of the sea. To the south is the long 
 
THE BAY OF BISCAY. 21 
 
 line of the Spanish coast, piled with mountains as far as 
 the eye can reach, while in front " the watery plain " fills 
 up the foreground of the picture. It is a rugged coast, 
 even here where we stand in France, against which the 
 waves have been beating for thousands of years, till the 
 very rocks are honeycombed with arches and caverns, into 
 which the waters rush and roar. 
 
 The Bay of Biscay has an ill reputation among mari- 
 ners as well as landsmen. If it be not quite so vicious as 
 the British Channel, yet as there is more of it, the agonies 
 it produces are longer ; so that it has had, and still has, 
 the maledictions of the tens of thousands who are com- 
 pelled to pass over it on their way to the Mediterranean. 
 The cause of this is apparent at a glance on the map. 
 The "Bay" of Biscay is not a land-locked harbor like the 
 Bay of Naples or of New York, but is only partly enclosed 
 by two enormous projections of the Continent, terminating 
 at Brest in France and Cape Finisterre in Spain (the very 
 name of which imports that it was once looked upon as the 
 end of the habitable globe), into which powerful currents 
 and the western gales drive the waters of the Atlantic till 
 they seethe and whirl like one vast maelstrom. 
 
 And yet this tempestuous Bay, which is the very home 
 of storms and wrecks, was to-day as calm as any Summer 
 sea, and as I looked out upon it from the cliffs, it seemed 
 tranquil enough to tempt the most timid voyager, and as 
 I went down to the beach, and walked along the sands, its 
 waves came rippling gently to my feet. 
 
 With such natural sublimity and beauty all round it, 
 and the sunshine that even in mid- Winter lingers in this 
 " sunny corner of the Bay of Biscay," near the very spot 
 where " its waves mingle with the waters of the Bidassoa 
 stream," I do not wonder that Biarritz should have become 
 a favorite resort for English families fleeing from the rigors 
 
22 THE VILLA EUGENIE. 
 
 of their northern climate. The great hotels perched on the 
 bluff, with their many windows open to the south, drink in 
 all the sunshine of the short Winter day, and the shivering 
 Britons feel a warmth which they could not find in their 
 own beloved but stormy islands. 
 
 Biarritz acquired its greatest celebrity a few years since, 
 as a favorite retreat of the Emperor Napoleon, who was 
 wont to come here at the beginning of Autumn and spend 
 the month of September, during which time the little town 
 was the seat of the French Government, when the specta- 
 cle of Ministers and Ambassadors arriving and departing 
 gave animation to its streets. 
 
 Of course the Villa Eugenie, which bears the name of 
 her for whose pleasure it was built, is the point of greatest 
 interest, as it was for the time the centre of the Imperial 
 court. Then the place was very animated and gay : now 
 it is tenantless and desolate. The Empress has recently 
 sold it to a French company, which proposes to turn it 
 into a grand Casino, and its extensive grounds into a 
 pleasure garden. Entering the open gateway, I walked 
 along the drive, and round to the sea wall in front. Lean- 
 ing against the parapet, one could not but recall the figure 
 of the Emperor, as he stood often on this very spot, looking 
 off upon the sea and musing over his own strange destiny, 
 the curtain from which was but half raised, for if no man 
 then living had had so sudden and so great an exaltation, 
 no man was to have a more tremendous fall. 
 
 Except some workmen, there was no one whom I could 
 find about the place but a withered old woman, sitting 
 inside the glass enclosure which curtained the front, turn- 
 ing it into a kind of conservatory. Inquiring if one might 
 penetrate within, she answered quickly " Oui, oui, Mon- 
 sieur," and rising from her chair, ran as fast as her totter- 
 ing frame could carry her, calling for her son, who directly 
 
THE EMPEROR RECEIVING BISMARCK. 23 
 
 appeared and took me in charge. I counted it a piece of 
 special good fortune that he had nobody else, and there- 
 fore did not rattle off the set speech of a guide, but gave 
 me full opportunity to indulge my propensity for asking 
 questions, as we walked deliberately from room to room. 
 This large apartment was the grand salon : of course but a 
 miniature of those in the great palaces of France, but still 
 of interest from the crowd of courtiers and princes it had 
 once contained. In this smaller room the Emperor took 
 his morning cup of coffee ; and here is the dining-hall, 
 very small compared with the magnificence of those at the 
 Tuileries or Versailles, but yet one into which the first 
 statesmen in Europe would have counted it an honor to be 
 invited. Next the guide led the way into the rooms set 
 apart for the high personages of the Imperial household, 
 after which came the ante-rooms occupied by the officers 
 of the guard. All, though on a diminished scale, was a 
 miniature of the Court in Paris. More interesting still 
 was the private Cabinet of the Emperor. It is but a small 
 apartment on the ground floor, but what a tale its walls 
 could tell ! Here he received the representatives of all the 
 crowned heads of Europe. Here Bismarck came, it is 
 said, to whisper soft flatteries in the Imperial ear, to pro- 
 pitiate the favor of the master of France, and especially to 
 sound him as to the course he would be likely to take in 
 the event, which the great Minister saw to be coming, of 
 war between Prussia and Austria. Once again he came in 
 1869, perhaps with a presentiment of another struggle 
 nearer and deadlier than the former. Never was an Em- 
 peror more completely deceived. At that time he felt that 
 he was master of the destinies of Europe. Little did he 
 dream that the very next year in 1870 the battle of 
 Sedan would throw him into the hands of the very power 
 that now courted him, and that he would need to ask of 
 
24 FATE OF THE EMPEROR AND HIS SON. 
 
 this Prussian Minister to make terms for his own sur- 
 render ! 
 
 Did he have any presentiment of his fall ? Did such a 
 thought ever trouble him in his dreams ? Such questions 
 suggest themselves as we enter his sleeping apartment. 
 Did he rest in tranquil security, or did he sometimes rise 
 from a troubled sleep, go to the window and look out upon 
 the sea, and see in it the type of his own stormy life that 
 was to end in shipwreck and disaster greater than he could 
 have imagined in his gloomiest hours ? 
 
 Surely no such forebodings entered the private apart- 
 ments of the Empress, who at Biarritz as at Paris drew all 
 eyes by her queenly presence and marvellous beauty, while 
 the air of graciousness which seemed natural to the perfect 
 Spanish lady that she was, captivated all hearts. 
 
 But here is something of still more tender interest, the 
 suite of rooms set apart for the Prince Imperial. This 
 was his private cabinet, the furniture of which is unchang- 
 ed. These are the very chairs on which he sat. On this 
 long divan against the wall, no doubt he threw himself 
 down a hundred times as he came in from his rides, his 
 studies, or his amusements, a tired but happy boy. On 
 that pillow he rested his head, sleeping the sound sleep of 
 youth and health, of innocence and peace. To him the 
 world of care was as yet all unknown. What were his 
 boyish dreams ? Of home and love and happiness. Did 
 any shapes ever arise out of the sea to affright him with 
 horror? Certainly none which could have pictured him 
 in far-off Africa, dying, not even on a field of battle, but 
 speared to death by the assegais of Zulus ! 
 
 If one is seeking for a place to moralize, it would be 
 hard to find one more sadly suggestive than this Villa 
 Eugenie, standing on the seashore, once so brilliant with 
 the gaieties of a court, but now deserted. Its silent walls 
 
MY AMERICAN FRIEND AND GUIDE. 25 
 
 preach a sermon more eloquent than ever was heard from 
 the pulpit on the emptiness of human hopes and ambi- 
 tions. Vanity of vanities ! all is vanity ! 
 
 Keturning to Bayonne, I found at the station waiting 
 for me, Kev. William H. Gulick of San Sebastian. The 
 name of Gulick' is an honored one in the annals of Ameri- 
 can missions. His father was a missionary before him, 
 and he was born in the Sandwich Islands, where he was a 
 companion in boyhood, a playmate and schoolmate of my 
 friend General Armstrong of Hampton, Va. Several of 
 his brothers are now engaged in missionary work in Japan, 
 while he, having spent some time in South America, where 
 he acquired the Spanish language, was chosen for similar 
 work in Spain. Here he has been for fifteen years. Speak- 
 ing the language like a Spaniard, he has kindly consented 
 to accompany me in my wanderings through the Peninsula. 
 
 An hour from Bayonne brings us to the Bidassoa, which 
 is but a narrow stream ; indeed we hardly know when we 
 pass over it, so quickly is it crossed, and we are in Spain ! 
 
 I did not need anybody to tell me this, as I perceived it 
 instantly by the new language that greeted my ears. How 
 strange it seems, in crossing an invisible line, to lose one's 
 power of speech, by losing his power of making himself 
 understood. An hour ago I was a man among men : I 
 looked in the face of a stranger, and asked him a civil 
 question, and received a polite answer. But now I ask a 
 railway official when the train goes, and he looks at me 
 blankly, as if I had dropped down from the moon. Alas, 
 I am no longer in mine own country, nor in any that I 
 have visited before. One thing I have discovered already 
 that Spaniards do not know how to pronounce their own 
 language. For instance, there is the grand old historic 
 city of Saragossa what Englishman or American docs not 
 know how it ought to be pronounced, viz : as it is written ! 
 
26 CROSSING THE BORDER. 
 
 But here they must needs pucker up their lips into a lisp 
 and say " Tharagotha " ! The very letters of the alphabet 
 are twisted out of the natural pronunciation, g being pro- 
 nounced as if it were h, while h in most words is not 
 pronounced at all ! I will have nothing to do with such a 
 perversion of human speech. Give me good, honest Eng- 
 lish, which no doubt Adam and Eve spoke in Paradise, 
 and which is to this day sufficient for the intercourse of 
 mankind. But if I can neither speak nor understand this 
 very sonorous but to me unintelligible language, I have an 
 excellent interpreter at my side, who will be both ears and 
 mouth to me while I am in this land of the Moors and the 
 Visigoths, until I cross over into Africa, where with Eng- 
 lish and French I can once more make myself understood. 
 The first town of Spain which we enter as we cross the 
 Bidassoa, is Irun, where the train comes to a halt, and we 
 " disembark " and are ushered into the inevitable Custom 
 House, the first sign of civilization, or the want of it, in 
 every European country. Our baggage is taken into the 
 station, and laid out on long counters, to be opened for 
 inspection. We could not complain of any want of courtesy 
 on the part of the officials : on the contrary, they were 
 very polite. It was only the detention which was trying, 
 for we were very weary. But at length all was ended, and 
 our baggage was replaced on the train. But now came 
 our first experience of the Spaniards. We soon found that 
 they were unlike Americans, in having no sense whatever 
 of the value of time. The inspection over, we were at 
 liberty to proceed, but nobody seemed to be in a hurry. 
 We took our seats in the railway carriage, but the train 
 did not stir. After long waiting, an attendant appeared, 
 but only to shut the door. After this manifestation of 
 energy, there was another long pause. Thus we were 
 detained a full hour for an examination which need not 
 
IN AN AMERICAN HOME. 27 
 
 have occupied n\ore than fifteen minutes. However, as we 
 did not mean to be fretted by anything, we kept our good 
 humor ; but it did seem a little absurd that an hour later, 
 on arriving at San Sebastian, the very same ceremony should 
 be gone through with again ! Once more we were all march- 
 ed into the station ; once more all the trunks, portmanteaus, 
 and hand-bags were spread out on the long counter, the 
 trunks were unlocked, and the officials with unmoved faces 
 went through the solemn farce of a second examination. I 
 inquired the object of this singular performance : if there 
 were any octroi a special municipal tariff to be paid on 
 coming into the city of San Sebastian. But the answer 
 w r as " No ; it was only a precaution, to make assurance 
 doubly sure." "When I smiled at this, I was comforted by 
 hearing that it was probably the last time I should have 
 such an experience in Spain. 
 
 And now, after these long delays, there came a pleasant 
 change, as Mr. Gulick took me directly to his home. It 
 was delightful to be ushered into a pleasantly-lighted room, 
 where a cheerful fire was blazing, and to sit down to a cup 
 of tea with those whom I had never seen before, but who 
 now showed themselves such kind friends. When at last 
 (wearied, but warmed and fed, and more than all, cheered 
 by the presence of those who spoke " the tongue wherein 
 I was born " ) I lay down to sleep, it was with a grateful 
 sense of all the goodness that had followed me hitherto, 
 and that here, thousands of miles away, I had found the 
 sweet security, the peace and comfort, of an American 
 home. 
 
CHAPTEK 
 ROUND ABOUT SAN SEBASTIAN. 
 
 The treacherous Bay of Biscay ! that lay so fair beneath 
 the sun, tranquil and smiling, as we looked out upon it 
 from the cliffs of Biarritz ! But scarcely had we turned 
 away before it showed itself in another mood, as if angry 
 that we should escape ; heaving and moaning and mutter- 
 ing, with all the signs of a coming tempest. No sooner 
 were we under shelter at San Sebastian, than the rain 
 began to fall first to patter, and then to pour accom- 
 panied by the deep soughing of the wind ; and in waking 
 moments all night long, I heard the incessant dashing of 
 the waves. Morning came, but the storm did not abate. 
 On the contrary, it increased : to the ' rain was added hail, 
 which beat upon the window-panes. There was an end to 
 the projected excursion of that day. 
 
 But he is a poor traveller who is disturbed by such an 
 interruption as this. On the contrary, he ought to wel- 
 come it as a grateful interval of rest from his daily fatigues. 
 A rainy day gives him sufficient excuse (if he needs any) 
 for staying indoors, " writing letters home " the pleasant 
 duty that comes so naturally when in " a home," with 
 kindly faces passing in and out, and a hum of friendly 
 
WALK HOUND THE BAY. 29 
 
 voices, like an undertone of music, giving a sense of quiet 
 happiness to one's thoughts, while not disturbing their 
 even flow. 
 
 In the afternoon the storm lulled so that Mr. Gulick 
 took me out for a walk round the bay. The rain had 
 ceased, but the wind still " blew great guns," and one or 
 two small vessels, which had tried to enter the harbor, 
 were now apparently trying to work off from it, as it is 
 too open to the sea to furnish a sure anchorage, so that 
 not infrequently ships are wrecked where they had seemed 
 to be quite safe. But the sea was magnificent, dashing 
 high on the rocks, and the air was fresh and bracing as 
 we strode along the shore. And now I perceived, as I 
 had not before, the exquisite beauty of this little bay, to 
 which they give the name of the " Concha " (or shell), so 
 perfect is the arc which curves round it, the two outer 
 points of which, towards the sea, are marked, one by a 
 small island on which stands the lighthouse, and the other 
 by a hill five hundred feet high, which is crowned by an 
 ancient Castle. The beach is perfect for bathing, as the 
 water is not deep and the sand soft to the feet. This, 
 with its other attractions, has made San Sebastian the 
 chief watering-place for the North of Spain ; and here in 
 the lieat of Summer may be seen a large representation of 
 the fashionable w r orld of Madrid " grandees " and grandes 
 dames, on the sands, getting health from the salt sea and 
 the bracing air. 
 
 In the good old days of the late Queen Isabella, this was 
 her favorite Summer resort, to which she came for the 
 benefit of the sea-air and sea-bathing. Nor was it any 
 drawback to her royal pleasure that in taking her sea- 
 baths she was sometimes exposed " in the dazzling light 
 of publicity" to the curious gaze of her faithful people. 
 To tell the truth, she was never " backward in coming for- 
 
30 QUEEN ISABELLA. 
 
 ward," but was ready to exhibit herself at all sorts of 
 places, at all sorts of times, and in all sorts of costumes. 
 One who saw her often at Santander, where she spent a 
 Summer, described to me the public way in which she 
 took her baths. At a certain hour every morning she 
 rode down to the shore, where a crowd was assembled to 
 see her. When she put on her bathing suit, as she is 
 very stout, the costume which clung to her portly person 
 did not show her to the best advantage, and she did not 
 look exactly like a sea-nymph. But undismayed at her 
 appearance, she marched bravely to the water, her phy- 
 sician at her side to feel of her pulse before she took her 
 first dip, and then, like Cassius, 
 
 "Accoutred as she was, she plunged in." 
 
 As she was a good swimmer, her very size perhaps aiding 
 her to float more easily, she disported herself in the surf 
 like a mermaid. After a sufficient time she came out, and 
 extending her arm to the physician, who felt of her pulse 
 and pronounced her all right, walked majestically through 
 the crowd and departed. This does not seem to republic- 
 ans like a very dignified exhibition of royalty ; and yet, 
 after all, it is only a reproduction in modern times of what 
 was considered quite the proper thing two hundred years 
 ago, when Louis XIV. at Versailles not only ate his break- 
 fast, but took his medicine, in public, in the presence of his 
 wondering, if not always admiring, people. In the pres- 
 ent case, no doubt the exhibition delighted the exhibitor 
 as much as it entertained the spectators. So much was 
 Isabella accustomed to this display of herself, that she 
 would probably have been very much chagrined if she had 
 been obliged to take her daily bath in private. A queen 
 at least such a queen must always be on exhibition on 
 land or sea, in the water or out of it. 
 
THE OLD CASTLE. 31 
 
 In another walk at San Sebastian, we climbed the Castle 
 hill, ascending by a zigzag road which winds round and 
 round till it ends on the highest plateau, from which we 
 ascend to the very roof of the castle, that commands a 
 view of land and sea quite equal to that from Biarritz. 
 The whole line of the horizon is piled with mountains, 
 from the Pyrenees on the east, till the mighty chain sinks 
 away in a blaze of glory against the golden sky where the 
 sun is going down. The castle, w^hich is many centuries 
 old, has borne its part in many wars. As San Sebastian 
 is so near the frontier of France, it comes in the track 
 of contending armies, forcing their way northward or 
 southward. In 1813, when Wellington had driven the 
 French to the very border, they still held this town and 
 the castle above it, which from its great height seemed to 
 defy assault. But the English -were not to be daunted by 
 any obstacle ; they were ready to attack any position, even 
 though it were almost in the clouds ; and so they climbed 
 the heights in face of the fire from above, bayoneting the 
 men at the guns, and carried the castle by storm. Of 
 course many fell in the desperate charge, and were buried 
 on the green hillside, where their graves may still be seen. 
 Standing on that dizzy eminence and looking down to the 
 depth below, it seemed utterly impossible that flesh and 
 blood could surmount such barriers held by a garrison of 
 three thousand men, and I could only explain it by the 
 fact that the English commander had gained a series of 
 victories which inflamed the courage of his men to such a 
 pitch that they would have stormed the Alps, while suc- 
 cessive defeats had disheartened their adversaries. There 
 are no braver troops in the world than the French, and 
 yet none are more easily demoralized when they see that 
 the battle is going against them. In the late German war 
 they were so dispirited by the first defeats that they never 
 
32 TAKEN BY WELLINGTON. 
 
 recovered from them. They were no longer the soldiers 
 that under the First Napoleon had overrun Europe, and 
 towards the last it seemed as if, when drawn up in martial 
 array, they were ready to surrender before the battle was 
 begun. The same demoralization overtook them near the 
 close of the Peninsular war, or surely they would not have 
 yielded a position which by nature is as strong as Quebec, 
 
 It is a pity that the glory won by the British on that 
 day, should have been tarnished t by their conduct in the 
 hour of victory. But the fact remains that they got so 
 drunk (not with glory, but with rum), that they set fire to 
 the town, and the greater part of it was burned to the 
 ground. This was such a mortification to their proud 
 commander, as to take away much of the satisfaction which 
 he derived from the great military achievement. 
 
 All this seems very, very far away, almost like ancient 
 history, although a gentleman of this place who is eighty 
 years old, tells me that he remembers distinctly, when a 
 boy, seeing the French soldiers in a town not far from San 
 Sebastian, to which his father had taken his family that 
 they might be in a place of safety out of the track of war. 
 
 More than half a century after Waterloo, indeed less 
 than twenty years ago, in 1868, San Sebastian saw the end 
 of a revolution, when Queen Isabella, who was taking her 
 royal pleasure at this sea-side resort, received a message 
 from Madrid that she need not return to her capital. The 
 Spanish people had had enough of her : they were scan- 
 dalized by her immoral life, while she left the country to 
 be ruled by the worst of Ministers ; and they thought they 
 could dispense with her presence, and gave her perpetual 
 leave of absence. Her last night in Spain was spent in the 
 large house on the corner opposite our windows, and the 
 next morning she was politely escorted down this very 
 street to the station, weeping bitterLy over the sad fate 
 
THE BASQUES. 33 
 
 which had overtaken her. Thence it is but an hour's 
 ride to the frontier, where she was delivered to the hospi- 
 table attentions of the French authorities. The house has 
 since been turned into a hotel, at which many of our 
 American friends have stayed when in San Sebastian, 
 among others Dr. and Mrs. K. D. Hitchcock, who slept 
 more tranquilly than the haughty Queen the night before 
 she left her kingdom. 
 
 Since the accession of her son Alfonso, the poor old 
 Queen has been considered harmless, and been allowed to 
 return, and the very parties that sent her away, go down 
 to the station to bid her welcome to the kingdom which is 
 no longer hers. 
 
 But the most interesting study in this part of Spain, is 
 the people. We are now in the Basque Provinces, among 
 those who are not Spaniards in- race nor in language. 
 Who are they ? And where did they come from ? These 
 are questions that many books have been written to deter- 
 mine. The Romans found them here ; and nowhere in 
 all their marches into new countries, not even in the for- 
 ests of Germany, did they find a people whom it was 
 harder to fight, or more impossible to subdue. From 
 that day to this they have clung, like the Swiss, to their 
 mountains with an unconquerable love of liberty. Their 
 country is a portion of Spain, and yet they have pre- 
 served a greater degree of" independence than any other 
 part of the kingdom. They have always enjoyed peculiar 
 privileges, and even to this day, under a monarchy, the 
 Basque Provinces form what is virtually a little republic, 
 managing their own affairs in their own way. This right is 
 secured to them by a compromise with the general govern- 
 ment, by which they pay, what in England would be called 
 " a lump sum," $300,000, as an equivalent for all taxation, 
 in consideration of which they are allowed to govern them- 
 
34 MODES OF AGRICULTURE. 
 
 selves. They have complete civil and municipal adminis- 
 tration, and are free from the intrusions that vex the souls 
 of other Spaniards. No public tax-gatherer darkens their 
 doors. Whatever revenue is to be raised, is collected by 
 themselves, and I am assured by the leading banker of 
 San Sebastian, that this is managed with such true political 
 economy, by a system of indirect taxation, that the people 
 do not feel it. Thus the burden of government rests very 
 lightly on the shoulders of these brave mountaineers. 
 
 We cannot but feel admiration for such a people, 
 even though their manners may not be highly polished, 
 and the cabins in which they live in the mountains may 
 not be equal to the comfortable dwellings of our Amer- 
 ican farmers. Their agricultural implements are of the 
 most primitive character. My good neighbors in the coun- 
 try would stand agape with wonder to see their teams of 
 " oxen," in which half the oxen are cows ! This is hard 
 on the poor "mooleys," that, after doing duty over the 
 milk-pail, they should be put to this further service. Yet 
 so it is that a cow and an ox are often harnessed together : 
 I say harnessed, not yoked, for they are not yoked at all, 
 this extraordinary team being lashed to the cart by 
 ropes wound about their horns and heads, the whole 
 capped with a red cloth, which, if nourished in a bull-ring, 
 would make the bulls paw the dust and rush madly at 
 the sign of blood. In keeping with the teams are the carts, 
 which are so rudely constructed that the wheels make a 
 fearful squeaking as they go toiling up the mountains. 
 But this has its domestic use, for it is said that every cart 
 has its own peculiar squeak, so that the good housewife 
 knows when her " gude mon " is coming home ! 
 
 It seems strange that a people so fond of liberty, and 
 so jealous of their independence, should be arrayed in 
 politics and in war on the side of despotism. And yet the 
 
THE C A RUST WAR. 35 
 
 Basques were the chief supporters of Don Carlos in the 
 late civil war, the theatre of which was chiefly in this 
 Northern part of Spain. The explanation is, that he was 
 the representative of the Ultramontane party, and as they 
 are devout Catholics, they were easily stirred up by the 
 priests to take the side of a Pretender, who was at once 
 the champion of their Church and their rightful King. 
 He could not have had better soldiers. If not trained to 
 bear arms, yet they are all practised marksmen, having 
 been accustomed from boyhood to the use of firearms ; 
 and when fighting in their own country, where they know 
 all the paths of the mountains, they are almost invinci- 
 ble. Operating as guerillas, they could hang on the skirts 
 of an army, and harass its movements, and thus slowly 
 wear out its strength. Armed with such irregulars, be- 
 sides his more disciplined troops, Don Carlos fought over 
 all this country. He did not take San Sebastian, though 
 he was a long time in sight of it, encamped on the hills 
 around, and now and then sent his shells into the streets. 
 Hernani, which is almost in. the suburbs of the city, was 
 more severely treated. Mounting a battery on a neigh- 
 boring hill, the Carlists opened fire on the town, to which 
 the inhabitants replied by dragging a cannon to the top of 
 the church tower, and firing from the belfry ! But the 
 Town Hall was destroyed. For these ten years it has lain 
 in ruins, and as we drove through the place, we saw work- 
 men tearing down the ruined walls, to clear away the rub- 
 bish and build anew. 
 
 The injury inflicted upon the country by this civil war, 
 was beyond calculation. Business was at a standstill ; 
 communications were interrupted, railroads torn up and 
 stations burned, till we are told, what seems almost incred- 
 ible, that for nearly three years there was no communica- 
 tion between Spain and France except by sea. A traveller 
 
36 MORE PEACEFUL SCENES. 
 
 wishing to go from Madrid to Paris, must needs proceed 
 to Santander on the coast, and take a steamer for Bayonne. 
 That a country could survive such a continued strain as 
 this, shows that it has a prodigious vitality, in spite of the 
 misgovernment of centuries, of the wreck and ruin of in- 
 numerable wars. 
 
 But times have changed, and changed for the better : 
 
 " Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front." 
 
 We can well spare some picturesque scenes for the sake of 
 public tranquillity. If to-day, in passing through the 
 country, we do not see tents pitched on all these hills, and 
 the soldiers of two hostile armies in their respective camps, 
 we see what is far better a whole people pursuing their 
 occupations, tending their nocks and ploughing their lands. 
 I had rather see the little donkeys with their heavy-laden 
 paniers, than the proudest war-horses that ever bore Span- 
 ish cavaliers to battle. Better the song of the reapers than 
 the ear-piercing fife and the stirring drum ; better the 
 squeak of the ox-cart than the rumble of caissons of artil- 
 lery ! Yes, and there is even a humbler exhibition which 
 is not ungrateful to my peace-loving eye. Every Monday 
 morning the women of the country round come into San 
 Sebastian with their little donkeys to get the week's wash- 
 ing, which, after undergoing its purification, is hung out 
 to dry on yonder hillside, and those nether garments float- 
 ing in the wind are better than all the ensigns of war 
 ever flung to the breeze ! Happy the land that is at peace ! 
 But leaving these grave subjects of peace and war, it will 
 be a pleasant change, before we bid farewell to the Basque 
 Provinces, to take one more drive over the surrounding hills. 
 San Sebastian is a very convenient place from which to 
 make excursions. Go in any direction, you will find bold 
 scenery, with quaint old towns nestled in deep valleys. 
 
FONTARABIA. 37 
 
 Pasajes, less than an hour's drive, is interesting to us as 
 the little port from which Lafayette embarked for America. 
 Perhaps he found it not so easy to embark from the French 
 coast, and so took his departure from the nearest port in 
 Spain. 
 
 A little farther away is the old hamlet of Fontarabia, 
 situated on a neck of land running out to the sea, and 
 terminating in a low hill, which is crowned, as such posi- 
 tions were apt to be in feudal times, by a castle and a 
 church. The town, such as it is, lies along one narrow 
 street, over which the projecting eaves of the houses 
 almost touch each other. It does not seem a place for 
 much of pride and splendor. But almost every house has 
 its coat-of-arms, as a sign that the place has seen better 
 days, and on extraordinary occasions it can get itself up in 
 very effective style. Father Hyacinthe happened to be 
 here on the anniversary of the day on which the siege of 
 the place by Don Carlos was raised, which (miraculous 
 combination !) happened to be on the day of the fete of 
 the Virgin of Guadalupe, the patron saint of the place 
 (who, then, could doubt that it owed its deliverance to her 
 intercession ?), and common gratitude as well as religious 
 fervor demanded that the event should be duly celebrated, 
 as it was with three days of rejoicing. The people flocked 
 in from all the country round. On the last great day of 
 the feast, a procession with waving banners crowded the 
 little street, and marched to the church, where it paid due 
 honors to the deliverer of the place from siege ; after 
 which all mustered in the Plaza, or public square, and con- 
 tinued the fete with dancing and firing of guns, as if a feel- 
 ing so intense could not be uttered by human voices, but 
 must find vent in sharp explosions ; and they even dragged 
 out a little cannon, and banged away to the glory of the 
 Virgin of Guadalupe I And then, to crown all, as the 
 
38 BORDER-LINE OF FRANCE AND SPAIN. 
 
 highest expression of Spanish joy, they wound up the day 
 with a bull-fight ! Surely human gratitude for divine mer- 
 cies could no further go. 
 
 The castle, I grieve to say, is in a very tumble-down 
 state, and, though it bears the name of the great Emperor 
 Charles V., is for sale ! This I mention privately for the 
 information of any enterprising American who may wish 
 to buy. To be more precise, I can give the very notice 
 painted on a board and hung on the wall. Here it is in 
 its exact type and spelling : 
 
 FOR SALE 
 
 THIS ROYAL PALACE AND 
 
 CASTLE OF THE EMPEROR 
 
 CHARLES Y. APPLI. FOR IMFORMATIOMS, &c. 
 
 But one thing neither time nor decay can destroy the 
 wide expanse of view from the top of the castle. From 
 the roof one takes in the border-land of France and Spain. 
 Below us is the " sandy barrier " over which " the waves 
 of the Bay of Biscay mingle with the waters of the Bidas- 
 soa stream " : for there is the stream itself winding its way 
 amid the sands to find its path to the sea. Yonder pillar 
 on a sand-bank which divides the stream, marks the exact 
 boundary between the two countries a line which it needs 
 no Colossus of Rhodes to bestride, for any French or Span- 
 ish boy may stretch his little legs across the space which 
 divides country from country, on the two sides of which 
 lie two great nations, " enemies in war, in peace friends." 
 
CHAPTEK IV. 
 THE BIRTHPLACE OF IGNATIUS LOYOLA. 
 
 In coming to Spain, one spot which I desired to visit 
 was that where Ignatius Loyola was born. I am not a 
 hero-worshipper, and yet I cannot repress a strong feeling 
 in coming to a place associated with one who has acted a 
 great part in history ; and surely few men priests or 
 kings or conquerors have had a mightier influence in 
 shaping the course of human affairs than the Founder of 
 the Order of Jesuits. Born eight years after Luther, he 
 was the chief antagonist of the Great Reformer, and did 
 more than any other man to prevent the religious move- 
 ment which had swept over the North of Europe, from 
 sweeping over the South also. 
 
 Many years ago I read in the Reviews of Sir James 
 Stephens, which are, like those of Macaulay, a series of 
 splendid Historical and Biographical Sketches, one on 
 " Ignatius Loyola and his Associates," which took strong 
 hold of my imagination. I read it over and over again, 
 and was enchained by the story of one who combined in 
 himself the Spanish knight and the spiritual crusader, and 
 would have gone far to see the spot where he began his 
 wonderful career. 
 
40 RIDE OVER THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Ignatius Loyola was "born in Azpeitia, a little village in 
 the North, of Spain, twenty-five miles from San Sebastian, 
 making it a long day's journey (as it is over a mountain 
 road) to go and return. The weather did not look promis- 
 ing for the excursion. The day before it had rained in 
 torrents, and the prospect was of a like experience on the 
 morrow. But I took heart from the good old saying : 
 
 ""When it rains, you must do as they do in Spain." 
 ' 'And how is that ? " " Why, let it rain ! " 
 
 I did my best to guard against contingencies by engaging 
 a carriage, the top of which might be opened or shut as 
 the skies shone or lowered, and as I had the promise of 
 good company in Mr. and Mrs. Gulick, and Miss Eichards, 
 a teacher in their school resolved in my secret mind not 
 to be kept back by the elements from what I had so much 
 at heart. 
 
 The morning opened dark and cold, and the clouds 
 swept over the hills. But we did not mind it ; indeed our 
 spirits rose as we faced the angry sky. Our three stout 
 horses, harnessed abreast, started off at full speed, their 
 bells jingling merrily as we swept round the bay and be- 
 gan to climb the hills. As we get farther into the moun- 
 tains, the roadway has in many places to be cut into their 
 steep sides, or supported on embankments ; but for all 
 that, it is so hard and smooth that our horses trotted at a 
 brisk pace, and we had the full enjoyment of the changing 
 views, as now we looked down into a deep valley among 
 the hills, and now rounded some projecting point from 
 which we took in a wide sweep of the Bay of Biscay. 
 Though the Winter had but just begun (it was the second 
 of December), the mountain tops were covered with snow. 
 Now and then the driving rain dashed in our faces. But 
 what cared we ? We only crouched under our canopy, 
 which, as soon as the clouds broke and the sun shone out, 
 
AZPEITIA. 41 
 
 the driver threw back, and opened before us the whole 
 glorious panorama of mountain and sea. 
 
 Four hours' drive brought us to Azpeitia a village 
 with one long street, at the end of which rises a majestic 
 pile, worthy of the name it bears, and to perpetuate to all 
 generations the fame of Ignatius Loyola. In the open 
 plaza before it stands a statue of the saint a grand figure, 
 which is an object of special homage at the time of the 
 year when the place is thronged with pilgrims. But to- 
 day, as w r e approach the great building, and ascend the 
 steps, we find them thronged, not with pilgrims, but with 
 beggars of the true Spanish sort, squalid and importunate, 
 who swarm upon us with piteous moans, asking for alms ; 
 but a few pence quiet them, and we are left to make our 
 observations in peace. 
 
 Turning to the massive structure before us, we find that 
 it serves a double purpose, including both a church and a 
 monastery. The former merits little attention, although 
 it is vast in size, and of somewhat pretentious architecture. 
 It is round in shape, following in this its model, the Pan- 
 theon at Home ; and its lofty dome rests on enormous pil- 
 lars of many-colored marbles, with chapels on every side, 
 at which " in the season " masses are daily, almost hourly, 
 said for the innumerable worshippers. 
 
 But the chief interest of the place is in the santa casa, 
 or holy house, in which Loyola was born. This remains 
 intact, as it is infused through and through with the odor 
 of sanctity, which renders it too precious to be destroyed. 
 It is therefore preserved with religious care, like one of 
 the holy places in Jerusalem, the monastery being built 
 over it and around it, to protect it with its mighty walls. 
 
 Observing that the latter was entered by a door at the 
 end of the long vestibule, we rang the bell, which was 
 answered by the opening of an aperture no larger than 
 
42 HOUSE IN WHICH LOYOLA WAS BORN. 
 
 a pane of glass ; and to our request for admission, a voice 
 replied that, as it was the hour of noon, the fathers were 
 in the refectory at their mid-day meal, and the convent 
 could not be opened to visitors till one o'clock. 
 
 At that hour we rang again, and were rewarded by the 
 appearance of a priest, perhaps sixty years of age, who, 
 with the proverbial politeness of the Jesuit, took us in 
 charge, and conducted us first through the house of 
 Loyola, which remains just as it was four hundred years 
 ago, when Ignatius was born. It is a baronial mansion of 
 the Middle Ages, whose dimensions show that it was built 
 for a Spanish grandee. The family of Loyola was one of 
 high rank in Spain, and this house of his father was not 
 only a home, but a castle, its walls being four or five feet 
 thick, and loopholed for the firing of cross-bows or mus- 
 ketry, so that in case of need its lord might gather his 
 retainers within the walls, and stand a siege. But what- 
 ever military purpose it may once have had, is now entirely 
 superseded by its sacred character, as appears by the in- 
 scription in Spanish over the door : 
 
 CASA SOLAB DE LOYOLA. 
 
 AQFI NACIO S. IGNACIO EN 1491. 
 
 AQUI VISITADO FOB S. PEDRO Y LA S.S. VIBGEN, 
 
 SE ENTBEJO A DlOS EN 1521. 
 
 FAMILY HOUSE OF LOYOLA. 
 
 HEBE ST. IGNATIUS WAS BORN IN 1491. 
 
 HEBE, HAVING BEEN VISITED BY ST. PETEB AND BY THE 
 
 MOST HOLY VIBGIN, 
 HE GAVE HIMSELF TO GOD IN 1521. 
 
 Mounting the great oaken staircase, we come at the first 
 landing to a wide hall, which is furnished with confes- 
 sional-boxes, where at the time of the annual pilgrimage 
 priests are busy hearing confessions and giving absolu- 
 tions. Doors open into several rooms ? in one of which is 
 
THE INTERIOR. 43 
 
 a bust of Loyola, that shows as grand a head as ever wore 
 a crown of temporal or spiritual dominion. 
 
 The interest increases as we ascend to the next story, 
 in which are the " living rooms " of the family. In one of 
 these is an altar, screened from approach by an iron grat- 
 ing, which marks the very spot in which the Founder of 
 the Order of Jesuits was born. In front of this were sev- 
 eral women kneeling in silent devotion, which would have 
 affected us the more if their prayers had not been united 
 with something else, as appeared by their outstretched 
 palms. 
 
 The good priest was intent on gratifying our curiosity, 
 and thinking in the kindness of his heart that what inter- 
 ested him must interest us, he took us by a private pass- 
 age into a room where are kept, as sacred treasures of the 
 place, a choice collection of the bones of saints, exposed 
 to view in glass cases, which, as they are bedecked with 
 flowers, have but a tawdry appearance. Among these is 
 solemnly pointed out, as the most precious relic of the 
 saintly museum, a bone of St. Cecilia ! Such exhibitions 
 of course could excite no feeling but one of pity at the 
 superstition which could attach a virtue to such mouldy 
 relics of decay. From these we turned to the personal 
 associations of the house as alone having a real interest, 
 and were all attention when taken into the private chapel 
 of the Loyola family, where we stood by the altar at which 
 no doubt the child Ignatius had knelt a thousand times 
 beside his father and mother. Still closer do we come to 
 him at a later period of his life, as we are shown the couch 
 on which he lay after he was wounded at the siege of 
 Pampeluna, and the canopy which hung over him. The 
 priest took us behind the scene which excluded ordinary 
 pilgrims, where under the altar is a full-length figure of the 
 young soldier stretched upon his bed of pain, his leg ban- 
 
44 THE MONASTERY. 
 
 daged for Ms wound, and with one hand raised, holding a 
 book, in which he read and read till his dreams of ambi- 
 tion faded away, and he saw a far higher sphere open be- 
 fore him, and rose up at last to enter upon his marvellous 
 career. 
 
 From the house we passed into the Monastery. Here 
 our party had to be divided : for the ladies were not 
 allowed to accompany us, their sex not being permitted to 
 pass the doors of so sacred a place. They could only 
 saunter in the outer courts. But from us men- folks the 
 Jesuit father kept back nothing, but led us on and on, 
 through court after court and along corridor after corridor, 
 till we could not repress our amazement at the vast extent 
 of a structure begun two hundred years ago, and not yet 
 completed. There is still an unfinished wing, and we found 
 to our surprise that the holy place was filled with the sound 
 of workmen in wood and stone and iron. A large num- 
 ber of men were thus employed. These, as I learned, 
 were not outsiders, brought in for the purpose, but lay- 
 brothers masons, carpenters, and blacksmiths who, hav- 
 ing been seized with a spirit of devotion, take a sort of 
 vow which constitutes them partners (humble partners, it 
 may be, but partners still) in the illustrious Order ; and if 
 they have not learning or eloquence to give, they can at 
 least devote themselves, with their handicrafts, to the ser- 
 vice of religion. 
 
 The general arrangement of this mass of buildings is 
 not unlike that of the vast quadrangle of an English uni- 
 versity. Just now we might be in one of the colleges of 
 Oxford or Cambridge. Indeed this Monastery is (or at 
 least includes) a College or Seminary for the training of 
 candidates for the Order of Jesuits, and in its interior 
 does not differ very much from other institutions of learn- 
 ing, being provided with ample class-rooms, dormitories, 
 
THE STUDENTS. 45 
 
 and refectory. Peeping into the latter, we found it neatly 
 arranged with tables running along the sides of a large 
 oblong room, and furnishing seats sufficient for the nearly 
 two hundred pupils. That they may not be too light- 
 hearted even at their simple meal, they have before them, 
 in a painting hung on the walls, the grand figure of Igna- 
 tius writing his " Spiritual Exercises." Yet his face is not 
 bent upon a written page, but turned upward as if he were 
 listening to the voice of One Unseen ; while a scroll in his 
 hand with the inscription, 
 
 " Dictante Deipara, 
 Scribit et docet," 
 
 tells that he wrote, not from his own wisdom or learning, 
 but by the dictation of the Virgin Mother of God. 
 
 The army of young collegians had just finished their 
 light repast, and were enjoying an hour of recreation in 
 the courts and corridors, and it was pleasant to see that 
 their gloomy surroundings had not killed out all the youth 
 that was in them, for they seemed to have the freedom 
 and hilarity of other college boys. Even their teachers 
 unbent themselves for the time, and were walking about 
 with their pupils, whom for the moment at least they did 
 not try to overawe with a sombre gravity. It should be 
 said, however, that these students are not yet members of 
 the Order, to which they cannot be admitted till they have 
 pursued their studies for two years. If at the end of that 
 time they are ready to take the vows, they are accepted as 
 novitiates (of which there are already eighty here out of 
 the two hundred), and remain for two years longer before 
 they receive their commands, appointing their place of ser- 
 vice, from the General of the Order at Home. 
 
 But while the young men in this institution are like 
 young men all over the world, the training and discipline 
 to which they are subjected is very different. I was curi- 
 
46 A SPIRITUAL BASTILLE. 
 
 ous to know whether the course of study pursued was like 
 that in a college or university in England or Germany, and 
 asked "if they taught any of the modern sciences"? to 
 which my guide was obliged to reply in the negative. 
 The education is wholly scholastic Greek and Latin, and 
 Christian (that is, Roman Catholic) dogmatics. Anything 
 beyond this it is not for them to know. The world may 
 move on ; vast discoveries may be made in the realm of 
 nature ; but no ray of light from without is allowed to 
 penetrate within these walls, and banish this monastic 
 gloom. 
 
 All this oppressed me with a weight which I could not 
 shake off. To the simple-minded father who had become 
 used to this narrow round, as the prisoner becomes used 
 to his cell, it may not have been a burden greater than he 
 could bear. But to one coming from the outer world, 
 from the fresh air of the hills, the place seemed like a 
 prison. With its massive walls ; with arches of stone over 
 our heads, and pavements of stone under our feet ; with 
 the thick-ribbed doors and grated windows I felt as if I 
 were shut up within some mighty Bastille, a place of con- 
 finement not only of bodies, but of souls, where men 
 wasted their lives in darkness, never to come forth to see 
 the light of day or breathe the air of heaven. 
 
 Perhaps the place would not have looked so cheerless 
 had it been in the heat of Summer, when the coolness 
 might have been grateful, and the murmur of the foun- 
 tains in the courts have been a pleasant sound in our ears. 
 But it was Winter, and looking out of the windows, I saw 
 the snow resting on the mountains, and nature in its Win- 
 ter dress seemed the fitting symbol of the icy and freez- 
 ing system that was here carved in stone. 
 
 With this feeling weighing on me like a nightmare, it 
 was a relief to have at last made the round of the Monas- 
 
TAKING LEAVE. 47 
 
 tery, and to retire ; though the good monk would have us 
 see everything, and stopped us in the last corridor to call 
 our attention to the little cannon standing on its head, 
 which is brought out on fete days, that the fathers may 
 blaze away to the glory of all the saints ! 
 
 And so we took our leave of the kind old man, thank- 
 ing him again and again for his courtesy to strangers (he 
 would receive nothing but thanks). It was not without 
 sadness and pity that we said good-bye, knowing that 
 while we came out into the living world again, he, as soon 
 as he had shut the door behind us, would go back to his 
 solitary cell. 
 
 As we came out from that Convent door, and stood 
 once more upon the broad steps of the church, we were in 
 a very reflective turn of mind, and the scene around us 
 took a new interest from its association with the great life 
 that was here begun. The statue of Loyola in the plaza 
 seemed more majestic as we passed it now, and a new 
 light rested on the hills. Azpeitia is set in the lap of 
 mountains. Before us was the scene on which the eyes of 
 Ignatius rested when first they were opened on this world. 
 In yonder parish church he was baptized, at the font which 
 still serves the Spanish mothers, who come in great num- 
 bers, with their infants in their arms, feeling that its 
 waters have a special grace. When a boy, he roamed 
 among these hills, perhaps even then dreaming of great- 
 ness, but with no possible dream which could approach 
 the stupendous reality. Before we vanish from the scene, 
 I cannot but add some reflections on the life and char- 
 acter of one who was in some respects the greatest man 
 that Spain has given to the world. 
 
 Ignatius Loyola was thirty years old when, in the words 
 inscribed over the door of his house, he " gave himself to 
 God." Beneath the same roof under which he vvas born, 
 
48 IGNATIUS AS A SOLDIER. 
 
 lie was born again. The story of his conversion is as 
 strange as anything in his wonderful history. 
 
 When in that old castle in the Pyrenees it was told in 
 chamber and hall that a man-child was born into the world, 
 no seer or diviner could forecast what his future was to be. 
 As a child he was of a singular beauty, which no doubt, 
 combined with his rank, led to his being chosen as a page 
 in the Court of Ferdinand and Isabella, in which his grace 
 of person and gaiety of manners made him an universal 
 favorite. But he soon developed higher qualities. Those 
 were the days when every man of position in Spain was 
 trained as a soldier. The war of the Spaniard and the 
 Moor, which had lasted for nearly eight hundred years, 
 was but just coming to an end : for it was only the very 
 year after Ignatius was born that Granada was taken, and 
 the Cross floated in place of the Crescent above the towers 
 of the Alhambra. But Spain had other enemies at home 
 and abroad, and the profession of arms was still the path- 
 way to glory. Into this path entered the young Ignatius, 
 and soon showed a courage and skill beyond his years, 
 which might in time have made him the " Grand Captain " 
 of Spain, if the course of events had not turned him into 
 a far different career. But while he was a soldier, such 
 was the confidence in his military ability that he was cho- 
 sen for the defence of Pampeluna a city in the North of 
 Spain which was besieged by the French. He defended it 
 bravely, but without success, and was taken prisoner. To 
 the chagrin felt at the loss of the city, was added a morti- 
 fying disaster to himself : for he was wounded, and though 
 he might not die, the mark of his wound would remain. 
 So keenly did he feel the injury to his handsome person, 
 that he had himself stretched upon the rack that his 
 shapely limbs might be restored to their former propor- 
 tions. But this heroic treatment was not more successful 
 
HE GIVES HIMSELF TO GOD. 49 
 
 than his defence of Pampeluna, and the dashing Spanish 
 soldier, whose manly physique had made him an object of 
 admiration in camp and court, had before him the pros- 
 pect of being a cripple for life. Thus deformed as well as 
 stung by defeat, he was carried back to the old baronial 
 mansion which we have visited to-day. 
 
 Man proposes, but God disposes. The disaster which 
 seemed to put a sudden end to a brilliant career, only 
 turned the young soldier into one that was far greater. 
 For months he lay upon his couch. The time was long. 
 To beguile the weary hours, he took to the reading of 
 books of knight-errantry, which were for the most part 
 harrowing tales of ladies shut up by Bluebeards in grim 
 castles, from which they were rescued by the prowess of 
 gallant knights tales which, however childish they may 
 seem to us, formed no small part of the literature of that 
 day, and took the fancy of many a youth whose highest 
 ambition was to be a hero of romance. 
 
 At length these were exhausted, and as in those days 
 the library even of a Spanish castle was somewhat meagre, 
 nothing could be found to entertain the wounded soldier 
 but the dullest of all reading, the Lives of the Saints ! 
 Ignatius, we can imagine, took them in hand with but a 
 languid interest ; but as he turned the pages, something 
 caught his eye, which began to brighten, and he soon 
 found in these "Acta Sanctorum" a fascination greater 
 than in all the tales of chivalry. Knights gave place to 
 saints and martyrs, who in their lives of self-denial had 
 given proof of a far more splendid courage than was ever 
 shown by a soldier on the field of battle. Often, as he 
 read, his hand dropped by his side, and as he leaned back 
 upon his pillow, and looked up at the canopy over his 
 couch (the same which is still shown in the ancient house), 
 he saw things in a new light : the life of a soldier, which 
 
50 RIGID SELF-DISCIPLINE. 
 
 he had wished to live, seemed 'poor and pitiful in a world 
 where there was so much serious work to be done, and 
 where it was a thousand times better to be saving men 
 than to be killing them. Besides, if he would still be a 
 warrior, there were other fields of conflict and victory. 
 Those were days in which there were wars in the Church 
 as well as in the State ; and not only Spain, but Home, had 
 need of brave defenders. So ran his thoughts. While he 
 was musing the fire burned, and he dreamed of what 
 might be wrought for the Faith. With such an inspira- 
 tion of hope, he renounced his former life, and chose a 
 religious in place of a military career. 
 
 Having thus taken a new field for his activity, he set 
 himself to prepare for it by a rigid course of discipline, 
 He who would conquer others must first conquer himself. 
 In a Spaniard the last thing to be subdued is " Castilian 
 pride," and of this no man had more than Loyola, which 
 he now set himself to " bring under " in the same heroic 
 temper with which he had once had his body stretched 
 upon the rack. He subjected himself to all sorts of humil- 
 iations : he wore the vilest raiment, changing clothes with 
 a beggar ; and ate the most loathsome food, and even this 
 he, the proud Spaniard that he was, did not shrink from 
 begging from door to door. 
 
 When he had so far subdued his pride that he could 
 stoop to any depth of humiliation, he made a pilgrimage 
 to Monserrat, a serrated ridge of mountains near Barce- 
 lona, where on a dizzy height stands a convent built in 
 honor of a famous image of the Virgin. Within sight of 
 this he lived for a year in a cave, where he lay upon the 
 ground, as if he were indeed but a worm of the dust, that 
 could not be too abject before his Maker. It was during 
 this long period of solitary meditation that he wrote the 
 " Spiritual Exercises," which were at once the reflection of 
 
TAKING THE VOWS. 51 
 
 his own experience, and were to be the guide to his fol- 
 lowers to all generations. 
 
 Having thus prepared himself for the vows which he 
 wished to take, he repaired to the shrine of the Virgin at 
 Monserrat, before which he spent a whole night in prayer. 
 Here he placed his sword reverently upon the altar, in token 
 that he laid aside all his military dreams and ambitions. 
 And then, not only bending on his knees and bowing his 
 head, but casting himself with his face to the earth, he 
 devoted himself to the service of the Blessed Virgin. This 
 is something which a Protestant (who knows nothing of 
 the feeling of a devout Catholic) cannot understand. He 
 cannot help a suspicion that in this devotion there was a 
 little of the same feeling which entered into the heart of a 
 Spanish knight for the high-born lady who was the object 
 of his adoration. It was devotion to a woman, which 
 always kindles a certain ardor in a manly breast. This 
 may be true, but beyond this there was something more. 
 The Virgin was not only a woman, but the type of woman- 
 hood, the emblem of all purity and spiritual grace, the one 
 perfect being to be presented to human devotion. And 
 further still, she was the link between divinity and human- 
 ity the mother of God, and yet a human mother, with 
 all the tenderness that is locked up in the maternal breast. 
 A suffering mother, too, she had been, the Mater Dolorosa, 
 and was therefore the most sympathetic of all that ever 
 bent over suffering childhood, or any form of human weak- 
 ness, on which she looked down with her great, tender eyes, 
 in whose depths there was an infinite love, an infinite pity. 
 And yet she who was so human, was enthroned above, the 
 Queen of Heaven. To this exalted being, purissima, sanc- 
 tissima, Ignatius, bending in lowly prostration, offered all 
 that he had to give the devotion of his heart and life. 
 As he laid his sword upon her altar, he vowed to be a sol- 
 
52 VISIT TO JERUSALEM. 
 
 dier in lier cause, her champion and defender. However 
 the feeling may be analyzed, it was most real and power- 
 ful, and never was there a more determined act of the 
 human will. Loyola was a man of iron, yet this awful vow 
 ruled him with absolute dominion through the whole of 
 life, to its very last hour. 
 
 That this act of devotion might not be mere senti- 
 ment, but serve in an effective way, Ignatius had been 
 meditating great projects. He had conceived the idea of 
 a new Order that should be more efficient than any ever 
 before enlisted in the service of the Church, composed of 
 men who should be trained by the severest discipline, till 
 there was nothing which they could not attempt or endure. 
 While brooding over his plans, he made a pilgrimage to 
 Jerusalem, and there, says Stephens, they "assumed a 
 coherent form as he knelt on the Mount of Olives, and 
 traced the last indelible imprint of the ascending Kedeemer 
 of Mankind. At that hallowed spot had ended the weary 
 way of Him who had bowed the heavens, and come down 
 to execute on earth a mission of unutterable love and 
 matchless self-denial ; and there was revealed to the pro- 
 phetic gaze of the future Founder of the Order of Jesus 
 the long line of missionaries who, animated by his exam- 
 ple and guided by his instructions, should proclaim that 
 holy name from the rising to the setting sun." 
 
 It was in the design of Loyola to establish his new 
 Order at Jerusalem, that its members might go forth from 
 the same spot from which our Lord sent forth His disci- 
 ples ; but to this he found unexpected obstacles, not so 
 much in Moslem fanaticism, in the intolerance of the Turk, 
 as in the jealousy of his own brethren, the Franciscan 
 monks, who, being already in the Holy City, assumed the 
 right, by priority of possession, to exclude all rivals or 
 intruders. He therefore returned to Spain, and began his 
 
SUSPECTED OF HERESY. 53 
 
 studies in the University of Alcala, near Madrid, where the 
 singularity of his opinions and the rigidness of his disci- 
 pline subjected him to a suspicion of heresy. In those 
 days it was not a light thing in Spain to be suspected, for 
 suspicion was quickly followed by arrest. The accused, 
 whether guilty or innocent, might be seized at midnight 
 and thrown into a dungeon, from which to pass to the 
 stake. This would have been a strange reversion of the 
 course of things, which might have changed the history of 
 Europe, if the man to whom the Church of Kome was to 
 owe its deliverance from the dangers which threatened it 
 in the middle of the sixteenth century, had himself per- 
 ished by the Inquisition ! Such might have been the case 
 had he not left Alcala for Paris, the city which is hospi- 
 table to men of all countries and all opinions, where he 
 pursued his studies unmolested, and was brought in con- 
 tact with the men whom he was to recruit as the first 
 members of his Order. It was here that he met Francis 
 Xavier, a young and brilliant scholar, who, though a Span- 
 iard by birth, was a Frenchman in his love of gaiety and 
 pleasure, which he could not willingly surrender to the 
 solicitations of his stern and almost gloomy countryman. 
 But gradually this gay scholar, a lover of letters and yet a 
 lover of the world, began to feel the power of " impres- 
 sions which he could neither welcome nor avoid." The 
 issue is thus told : 
 
 " "Whether he partook of the frivolities in which he delighted, 
 or in the disquisitions in which he excelled, or traced the wind- 
 ings of the Seine through the forests which then lined its banks, 
 Ignatius was still at hand to discuss with him the charms of 
 society, of learning, or of nature; but whatever had been the 
 theme, it was still closed by the awful inquiry, ' What shall it 
 profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? ' 
 . . . ' In the unrelaxing grasp of the strong man, Xavier gradu- 
 ally yielded to the fascination,' " 
 
54 HE FOUNDS THE ORDER OF JESUS. 
 
 The same influence drew to Loyola a few other Mndred 
 spirits, not more than half a dozen in all, who bound them- 
 selves by vows to devote their lives to the service of the 
 Church, though it was not till 1537 that either he or Xavier 
 received priest's orders. Even then their little company 
 had increased to but thirteen, when they went to Eome to 
 ask permission of the Holy Father to found a new Order 
 for the defence of the Church and the propagation of the 
 faith. The petition was for a long time refused. But the 
 dangers of the Church were pressing ; the Reformation 
 had spread over one-half of Europe, and might soon sweep 
 over the other ; and at last, in 1541, the bull was issued 
 which authorized the establishment of the most powerful 
 religious Order that has ever existed on the earth. 
 
 Loyola was now fifty years old. Three-fourths of his 
 life was gone, but the object for which he had wrought 
 for twenty years was attained : he had founded an Order 
 which should be a power in the world for more than twenty 
 generations. And now as he stood on life's summit, he 
 might well feel that his work was done. But it was only 
 begun : all the past was but the preparation for that which 
 was to come. No sooner was the Order established than 
 he was chosen its General. Twice he refused, but was at 
 last compelled to accept the place of which no one else 
 was worthy. From that moment he was an uncrowned 
 king. And when he took the power, he took it with no 
 trembling hand : he was as absolute as the Sultan or the 
 Czar. For sixteen years he wrought in it with the tireless 
 energy of Napoleon. Few kings had so wide a dominion : 
 for as the Order spread rapidly, it soon had branches in 
 every civilized, and in almost every uncivilized, country, 
 with all which he was in constant correspondence ; so that 
 it might almost be said of him in his Monastery in Eome, 
 as of Philip II. in the Escorial, that from it he ruled two 
 
ITS MILITARY ORGANIZATION. 55 
 
 hemispheres, and ruled them not in name, but in reality, 
 for of all that vast organization he was the centre and the 
 soul. There was not a Jesuit missionary, however far 
 away in India or China or Thibet, among the mountains 
 of Asia or on the Eastern or Western Coast of South Amer- 
 ica who did not feel the impress of that powerful hand. 
 
 In laying the foundation of the Society of Jesus, Loyola 
 found the invaluable benefit of his military education. To 
 men of high spirit, impatient of control, there is no train- 
 ing so effective as that of the profession of arms. It curbs 
 the most fiery energy, as it bids even courage wait upon 
 the word of command, and thus compresses the explosive 
 power of human passion, making it all the more terrible 
 and destructive when it bursts forth. "What Ignatius had 
 learned as a Spanish soldier, he introduced as the first 
 principle of a religious Order. Though its object was 
 religious, its organization was military, as much as that of 
 any regiment in the armies of the King of Spain. Its 
 head was not a mere priest who gave fatherly counsel, but 
 a General, who issued his commands, and the first duty of 
 every member of the Order was absolute obedience. A 
 body organized on this principle had in it all the elements 
 of tremendous power. It was an absolute despotism, 
 directed by one imperious will. 
 
 By reason of this military organization, there was an 
 esprit de corps running through it as through the rank and 
 file of an army. This kindled the enthusiasm of those 
 who had been trained to arms, who saw that in it there 
 was room for feats of daring as stirring as those in war. 
 Europe was already plunged in a great conflict of relig- 
 ions. A movement from the North, which was likened to 
 that of the barbarians who overwhelmed the Roman Em- 
 pire, threatened to sweep away the ancient faith. Not in 
 hundreds of years had the Church been in such danger. 
 
56 IT IS A VAST PROPAGANDA. 
 
 A cry of alarm rose from the foot of the Apennines, which 
 was echoed back from the Alps and the Pyrenees, and 
 roused every loyal Catholic to arms. Such men found in 
 the Order of Jesuits the organization in which they could 
 unite their ardor with the greatest effect. It drew into it 
 men of all ranks, from princes and nobles to the men of 
 the middle class ; and even peasants, with the smallest pos- 
 sible education, were admitted to serve as lay brothers, and 
 thus help to rally the common people to allegiance to the 
 faith. 
 
 While thus efficient at home, the Order of Jesuits was 
 to be a vast Propaganda abroad. It was to furnish the 
 apostles that should carry the banner of the Cross to the 
 ends of the earth. Here again the military discipline was 
 the secret of power. It anticipated the hesitation which 
 paralyzes great designs. If a member received orders to 
 start to-morrow morning for the most distant part of the 
 globe, he had not to deliberate a moment : 
 
 " Not his to ask the reason why; 
 His but to do or die." 
 
 This giving up of one's self to such extent as forbade 
 even clinging to his home or country, was the nurse of all 
 the virtues that are born of self-denial. The love that was 
 shut up in one direction, flowed in another ; and he who 
 seemed almost without natural affection, might prove the 
 truest and tenderest of friends and brothers. Never was 
 there a deeper well-spring of goodness than in the heart 
 of Francis Xavier, of whom Sir James Stephens says : 
 
 "No man, however abject his condition, disgusting his mala- 
 dies, or hateful his crimes, ever turned to Xavier without learn- 
 ing that there was at least one human heart on which he could 
 repose with all the confidence of a brother's love. To his eye 
 the meanest and the lowest reflected the image of Him whom he 
 followed and adored ; nor did he suppose that he could ever serve 
 
BECOMES A DANGEROUS POLITICAL POWER. 57 
 
 the Saviour of Mankind so acceptably as by ministering to their 
 sorrows, and recalling them into the way of peace." 
 
 While these virtues of individuals are fully recognized, 
 yet to the Order itself its very success was its peril, as it 
 nursed a passion for power, which quickly became unscru- 
 pulous in the means to its end. Assuming as a first prin- 
 ciple that its object was holy, it reasoned that every means 
 to carry it out was legitimate. From being a power in 
 the Church, it aspired to be a power in the State, in polit- 
 ical affairs ; and while it sent out missionaries to preach 
 the Gospel, it sent agents of a very different character to 
 every court in Europe, where they were deep in plotting, 
 intriguing, and persecuting. The zeal of the Order was 
 greatest in the extermination of heretics. It lighted the 
 fires of the autos-da-fe, and was the main support of the 
 Inquisition. It soon became recognized as the most dead- 
 ly enemy of liberty. Not content to oppose it by priestly 
 influence, it did not hesitate to take part in conspiracies, 
 in massacres and assassinations. If it did not instigate, 
 there is every reason to believe that it connived at, the 
 Massacre of St. Bartholomew ; while the evidence is still 
 stronger that it aimed the dagger at the heart of Henry IV., 
 the best of the kings of France, and fired the shot that 
 ended the life of William of Orange. 
 
 What the Order of Jesuits was in the Sixteenth Centu- 
 ry, it was in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth. It is but 
 little more than a hundred years ago that a Pope Clement 
 XIV. who issued a bull to suppress it, perished by poison. 
 With such a record of crime, we can hardly condemn as 
 too strong the language of Castelar, when, standing before 
 the house in which Ignatius Loyola was born, he said that 
 "beneath that roof had come into existence the man whose 
 influence had been more fatal (funesta) than that of any 
 other man who had ever lived on the earth ! " 
 
58 REAL GREATNESS OF LOYOLA. 
 
 But influence is one thing, and character is another. 
 The motive may be good, even though the result be evil. 
 In many of the elements of greatness, Ignatius Loyola was 
 one of the greatest of men. His commanding presence 
 was but the outward indication of a nature that was born 
 to rule mankind. His power came in part from his un- 
 questioning faith. The Spaniards are strong believers, and 
 he was of the strongest. The greatest mysteries did not 
 perplex him. Even the doctrine of Transubstantiation was 
 made clear to him, not only by faith, but by sight, for in 
 one of his ecstacies of devotion he saw the change of the 
 bread and wine into the body and blood of Christ ! After 
 this nothing could stagger him. The mystery of the Trin- 
 ity was as clear as any mathematical proposition. Indeed 
 the greater the natural improbability of any article of the 
 creed, the greater the exercise of faith, and the more un 
 doubtingly he believed. 
 
 However unreasonable may be such a faith, no one can 
 fail to see with what prodigious " motive power " such a 
 man is endowed. Instead of living in an atmosphere of 
 vagueness and uncertainty, he has solid ground under his 
 feet, and moves forward with the firm tread of a soldier. 
 Such was the power of Loyola over those around him, who, 
 whatever degree of ability or learning they possessed, were 
 over-borne by his unquestioning faith and his tremendous 
 will. 
 
 Another element of power was the self-discipline which 
 he never relaxed. However rigid was that which he ex- 
 acted of others, to the same he subjected himself. Like a 
 true soldier, he led the way where he wished them to fol- 
 low, and thus gave them not only the authority of his com- 
 mand, but the inspiration of his example. 
 
 These self denials he carried (as we believe) beyond the 
 bounds alike of reason and religion. He denied himself 
 
SELF-DENIAL CARRIED TO EXCESS. 59 
 
 not only every indulgence, but even the ordinary pleasures 
 of human society. It is affirmed incredible as it may 
 seem that " for thirty years he never once looked upon 
 the female countenance." A man thus deprived of every 
 form of domestic life, never looking in the face of mother 
 or sister, must become to some extent dehumanized. Not 
 so did our Divine Master, who lonely as He was, apart 
 from other men as He was above them still felt all the 
 sweet tenderness of home, which drew Him to Bethany to 
 comfort Mary and Martha concerning their brother ; and 
 who, so far from shrinking from the face of woman, did 
 not turn away from her in any depth of sorrow or of sin ; 
 who suffered the penitent Magdalen to kneel at His feet ; 
 and, instead of crushing her, raised her up with the words, 
 " Neither do I condemn thee ; go and sin no more." 
 
 And so the rule of implicit obedience, which is the cor- 
 nerstone of the Order, may be carried to an extent that 
 destroys a man's individuality, till he is no longer a sepa- 
 rate being, with the power of free will and free action, but 
 is simply an infinitesimal part of a tremendous machine, 
 which goes on with its terrible work, grinding and crush- 
 ing at once human intellect and human affection. So much 
 as this indeed is avowed in the famous maxim " Perinde 
 ac cadaver" [that one may become like a dead body], a 
 principle which reverses the order of nature and of God, 
 who " is not the God of the dead but of the living," and 
 demands for His service not dead bodies but living souls. 
 
 While we thus dissent from the principles of the Order 
 of Jesuits, we have no wish to detract from the real great- 
 ness of its founder, or to cast a shadow on his immortal 
 name. Never do we visit Rome without going to the 
 Church of the Gesu, built in his honor, where his bones 
 rest under an altar with the simple inscription Ad majoram 
 Dei gloriam words which express with simple majesty f^o 
 
60 AD MAJORAM DEI GLORIAM. 
 
 one object for which he lived and died. A noble epitaph 
 indeed, but one which belongs not to him alone, but which 
 might be inscribed with equal fitness on the tablet in West- 
 minster Abbey which rests above all that is mortal of David 
 Livingstone ; or on the headstone that marks the grave of 
 many a humble missionary, who has chosen the part of an 
 exile that he might do good to his poor and suffering 
 fellow-beings whom he never knew. All these, and thou- 
 sands of others, seen only by the Omniscient eye, are truly 
 devoting their lives "to the greater glory of God." 
 
 And so we turn away from this majestic figure of the 
 Sixteenth Century, with admiration for all that was heroic 
 in that life and character, yet feeling that, after all, the 
 Order founded by Ignatius Loyola is based on false prin- 
 ciples, which make it far more potent for evil than for good. 
 The Jesuit system is founded on the Jesuit creed, both of 
 which are, we will not say inhuman, but certainly twhuman 
 without being divine. From this soldier-priest we turn to 
 the Man of Galilee, " who went about doing good," as the 
 true type of that moral greatness to which all, from the 
 highest to the humblest, may aspire. 
 
 "When we left Azpeitia, it was the middle of the after- 
 noon of the short Winter day, and we had yet a four hours' 
 drive before us. The darkness fell as we were crossing 
 the mountains. We stopped but once, in a little Spanish 
 village, for a change of horses, and it was far in the even- 
 ing when we saw the lights of San Sebastian. 
 
 A long day's work to see the spot in which a man was 
 born nearly four hundred years ago ! And yet I have 
 seldom made a pilgrimage to any shrine of saint or martyr 
 which left on me a deeper impression. The end of the 
 Fifteenth century, and the beginning of the Sixteenth, was 
 a period of great events, marked by many illustrious char- 
 
LOYOLA AND COLUMBUS. 61 
 
 acters ; but among them all there appeared no grander 
 figure than this. Loyola was born in 1491, and the very 
 next year Columbus discovered America. Among the act- 
 ors in history, few have a higher place than the discoverer 
 of the New World. And yet even the brief review here 
 given of a life as different from that of the great navigator 
 as any two lives could be, may lead us to doubt which of 
 these two men Columbus or Loyola had the greater 
 influence on the destinies of mankind. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 BURGOS THE CATHEDRAL AND MONASTERY. 
 
 Although we had had our first glimpses of Spain, it was 
 only just enough to excite our appetites for more. We 
 had ridden a few miles along the coast, but the vast inte- 
 rior was still an undiscovered country, hidden from us 
 by a wall of mountains that lay along the southern hori- 
 zon. We were now to pass the barrier, and penetrate into 
 the heart of the kingdom. 
 
 It was two o'clock in the afternoon that the train from 
 Paris, having crossed the border at Irun, thundered into 
 the station at San Sebastian, where I had been walking up 
 and down for half an hour with the grandest old Spaniard 
 whom I met in all Spain, who had come to meet his friend 
 Castelar, who had been spending some weeks in Paris 
 (where of course he was a great lion), and was now on his 
 return. As he spends his Summers at San Sebastian, his 
 face is familiar to everybody, and the family whose guest 
 he is were there to welcome their beloved " Don Emilio." 
 But he did not come till the next day. I shared their dis- 
 appointment, for there was nobody in Spain whom I so 
 much wished to see. However, it was all made right when 
 we got to Madrid, where I saw him many times, both in 
 
CROSSING THE MOUNTAINS. 63 
 
 the Cortes and in his own house. And just now we were 
 to have occupation for our eyes, which would make it 
 almost "a sinful diversion" to turn them aside even to 
 gaze at the greatest of living orators. 
 
 The ride of this afternoon was a disappointment, but a 
 disappointment of the right kind. Somehow I had got it 
 into my head that the scenery of Spain was very monoto- 
 nous, and so in many places it is ; there are vast treeless 
 plains, which are wastes of desolation ; but to-day we 
 were to cross the mountains, in which I was constantly 
 reminded of the passage of the Alps. In all my experi- 
 ence as a traveller, I find nothing so fascinating as to have 
 the exhilaration of an Alpine climb, without the fatigue. 
 If the ascent be gradual, so much the greater is the enjoy- 
 ment, as both the eye and the mind are " keyed up " to it. 
 When I see a train preparing to storm a mountain pass, it 
 seems as if the huge monster of an engine were a living 
 thing, which knew what was before it, and was snorting 
 like a war-horse that smells the battle from afar ; that 
 " paweth the ground as he goeth forth to meet the armed 
 men." The traveller who comes across the continent feels 
 this keenly as he climbs the Sierra Nevada, and sweeps 
 round " Cape Horn," and passes through the canons of the 
 Eocky Mountains. And now watch our iron steed as the 
 engineer " lets her go"; how gracefully she moves, with 
 the long train behind her, gliding like a serpent in con- 
 stant curves ; now winding along the green banks of rivers, 
 hearing the voice of streams ; mounting by slow degrees 
 till we get where ice look down. In the Spanish mountains 
 man has fought against nature ; every spot of earth is cul- 
 tivated, and vines are trailed along the sides of the hills. 
 As we climb higher and higher, we feel at every moment 
 the exhilaration of being raised up to a greater altitude, 
 of breathing a purer air, and looking round on a wider 
 
64 A SPANISH 
 
 horizon. Of course the ascent is full of difficulties, to 
 overcome which calls for all the resources of modern engi- 
 neering. The road, which has been built by a French 
 company, is constructed with the same thoroughness and 
 skill which distinguish the great roads of France. But 
 it has to make innumerable twists and turns to find the 
 easiest path, and even then is often driven to bay, to escape 
 from which it has to plunge into the bowels of the earth. 
 Near the top we pass through a great number of tunnels 
 fourteen between two stations some of them very long. 
 These times of darkness interfere sadly with our sight- 
 seeing ; but as we rush through them into light, we turn 
 this way and that, enraptured with the views that are 
 opened into the gorges beneath, and over the mountain- 
 tops, which take on such rosy tints as they catch the last 
 rays of the setting sun, that they seem "glorious as the 
 gates of heaven," and then turn to glittering white as the 
 moonlight streams down their breasts of snow. 
 
 After a seven hours' ride, we drew into the station of 
 the old city of Burgos, and bundling into a rickety car- 
 riage, rattled away over a bridge, and under the arch of 
 Santa Maria, built in honor of the Emperor Charles V., to 
 the Hotel del Norte, which, though put down in all the 
 guide-books as the best in the place, had a cheerless look 
 without, and was not more attractive within. The floors 
 were of brick, and when we were taken up two or three 
 flights of stairs, and through narrow passages, into small 
 and stuffy rooms, we had to confess that this was not alto- 
 gether home-like. My companion, who was used to the 
 Spanish ways, took his little den without a word. But not 
 so with the newly-imported American, to whom the rooms 
 had a mouldy air, as if they had been inhabited by gener- 
 ations of Spaniards, whose ghosts were even now flutter- 
 ing in the dingy curtains and counterpanes ; and who, 
 
ON THE BALCONY BY MOONLIGHT. 65 
 
 alike for his rest of body and peace of mind, would fain 
 have something better. The resources of Spanish inns 
 are not great, but at least the people are polite to those 
 who recognize the Castilian pride, and address them with 
 proper respect. Therefore I made my humble petition to 
 the landlady (who seemed really desirous to make us com- 
 fortable, if she only knew how), as if she were a Serene 
 Highness, to give me a larger room, whereupon she led the 
 way to one, which, if not exactly in the style of a baro- 
 nial hall, was at least a great improvement on the first, 
 and which, best of all, had an open fire-place, in which (as 
 the small boys were sent to bring wood) I soon had a blaz- 
 ing fire, the most potent means to brighten dull surround- 
 ings. Having made a clean and wholesome atmosphere, I 
 asked for but one thing more, a cot, for I could npt go back 
 to the close, narrow bedroom ; and the good people hunt- 
 ed about till they found a small iron bedstead, that had 
 perhaps done duty in the old Spanish wars, on which I 
 could lie down " like a warrior taking his rest " before his 
 camp-fire. 
 
 Having thus provided for a comfortable night, I threw 
 open the shutters of a large window, and stepped out upon 
 a little balcony. Although it was but eleven o'clock, the 
 streets were quiet, save the watchman calling the hour, 
 with the invocation "Ave Maria sanctissima," and the 
 moonlight rested on a silent, sleeping city. Close to us 
 was one of the greatest cathedrals in Spain, and, as it stood 
 on the slope of a hill, and was below us, I was on a level 
 with the roof, which was pinnacled with spires and arches, 
 so airy and delicate that it all seemed like some heavenly 
 vision that would float away in the moonlight. Farther 
 away rose a hill hundreds of feet high, crowned with a 
 castle a thousand years old, once the city's glory and de- 
 fence, which had borne its part in innumerable wars, down 
 
66 THE CAPITAL OF OLD CASTILE. 
 
 to the last siege by Wellington. These two ancient piles, 
 the Castle and the Cathedral, standing over against each 
 other, are types of the Gothic civilization. Such an hour 
 in the heart of Old Spain pays for a long journey, and put 
 me in a pleasant mood for the night ; so that when at last 
 I lay down on my little cot, and the light of the dying em- 
 bers cast shadows on the walls, I sank into a half-slumber 
 through which floated dreams of a past in which history 
 was romance and romance became history. 
 
 The next morning, as soon as we had time to look about 
 us, we found that we were in one of the historic cities of 
 Spain. Burgos lies on a broad plain nearly three thousand 
 feet above the level of the sea, and has been a notable city 
 from the earliest days of the Spanish monarchy. Indeed 
 before there was any United Spain, it was the capital of 
 Old Castile, the very name of which in Spanish (Castilla) 
 indicates that it was full of castles, held by brave warrior- 
 knights, whose prowess in those days was the wonder of 
 Christendom. Castile was the first part of Spain which 
 shook off the yoke of the Moors, against whom it was led 
 by the Cid, who was a native of Burgos. Here he was 
 born in 1026, and was married in the old Castle ; and 
 though he died in Valencia, it was his wish that he should 
 be brought back to his birthplace to be buried. At that 
 time Castile was a separate kingdom, and so remained 
 until it was united with Leon, and afterwards with Arra- 
 gon, which was accomplished only by the marriage of Fer- 
 dinand and Isabella. 
 
 How real and true a hero the Cid was, it would be diffi- 
 cult to say, as his deeds have been so magnified that he 
 appears more like a god of mythology than a man of 
 woman born. How much of this grand figure really be- 
 longed to the original, nobody knows. As Achilles and 
 Agamemnon are known to us, not by authentic history, 
 
THE CID. G7 
 
 but by the Iliad of Homer, so this Spanish Achilles is 
 known chiefly through the Poem of the Cid, published in 
 1200, and the Chronicle of the Cid, in the century after 
 a Chronicle filled with traditions of his valor in songs and 
 ballads, many of which Southey has rendered into English 
 verse. No doubt he was a brave soldier, and fought stoutly 
 in the war against the Moors, whom he hated with perfect 
 hatred, if that be a virtue. But it is not necessary to be- 
 lieve that he rode into Burgos on his favorite horse, and 
 clad in a full suit of mail, after he was dead ; nor that, when 
 a Jew approached his dead body to offer it some indignity, 
 it lifted a mailed hand and felled him to the earth ! 
 
 If all the stories they tell of him were true, they would 
 not be much to his honor. In the Cathedral is suspended 
 on the wall a coffer which served him as a camp-chest, and 
 of which it is said that, when his finances were at a low 
 ebb, he filled it with stones, representing the heavy weight 
 as concealed treasure, and on this security borrowed money 
 of a Jew, exacting a promise that the chest should not be 
 opened till the debt was paid, as in due time it was, when 
 the lid was raised and the deceit exposed. This story is 
 gravely told by the Spanish historians, as if it were a proof 
 of the marvellous shrewdness of their hero, seeming not to 
 reflect that they exalt his cunning at the expense of his 
 truth and honor. 
 
 However, we must not sit in critical judgment on a hero 
 of romance, whose deeds have been chronicled in song, 
 and whose valor has been a national tradition for seven 
 centuries. Let Spain have her idols, as we keep ours. 
 
 All that Burgos now has to show of the Cid are his bones, 
 which are kept in the Town Hall, in a chest under glass, 
 with a partition to separate them from the bones of his 
 wife, over which a traveller may moralize after the style 
 of the grave-digger in Hamlet. These bones have partly 
 
68 THE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 crumbled into dust. The conqueror Time has ground the 
 Cid, as he grinds ordinary human beings, very small ; and 
 he who made the infidels to tremble as he rode his war- 
 horse over the field of battle, trampling them down, is but 
 a soft, fine powder, which would be blown away if it were 
 not kept in a bottle ! Such is the end of all human glory : 
 
 " Ceesar dead and turned to clay 
 May stop a hole to keep the wind away." 
 
 But the great attraction of this old Spanish city is the 
 Cathedral. Some travellers would say it is the only attrac- 
 tion, so much does it overshadow all others. Indeed we 
 might almost describe Burgos as a Cathedral with a town 
 thrown in, so completely is the latter dwarfed and dwin- 
 dled by that central mass of towers that rises above it, and 
 draws the eyes of all beholders to its glorious self. To me 
 it had a special interest as being the first of those great 
 Spanish Cathedrals, to see which had been one chief object 
 of my visit to Spain. These have a character of their own, 
 different from those of France, Italy, or Germany. Before 
 I left America, Chief Justice Daly prepared for me an 
 itineraire, in which he spoke of the Cathedrals of Burgos, 
 Toledo, and Seville, as "the three finest in Spain, and 
 therefore the three finest Gothic Cathedrals ii? Europe." 
 To the first of these we were now to be introduced. 
 
 Before entering, let us take a walk around it : for it 
 would be almost irreverent to rush into such a presence 
 without some preparation both of the eye and the mind. 
 In approaching it, we observe (as we have often had occa- 
 sion to observe elsewhere on the Continent) how much the 
 impression of the most magnificent architecture is impaired 
 by the want of proper position. To the grandest effect of 
 a building designed to endure for ages, it ought to stand 
 on a hill, like the Parthenon ; or in large grounds, which 
 give it the presence and the dignity that become a king. 
 
THE CATHEDRAL. 69 
 
 It should have ample space around it, as we give space to 
 a mighty elm or oak, the glory of the forest, that it may 
 spread its arms abroad " to all the winds that blow." 
 
 The position of Burgos did not admit of much, unless 
 the Cathedral were placed outside of the town. Although 
 the country round is a plain, the city is built on sloping 
 ground, between the river which flows on one side of it, 
 and the hill on which stands the old Castle on the other. 
 Here the space is necessarily somewhat confined, so that 
 the Cathedral is hemmed in by narrow streets, and is on 
 such a slope that while its front opens on a little _ plaza 
 above their level, the rear actually abuts against a hill ; 
 so that in entering from that side, one has to descend a 
 staircase to the pavement. Such infelicities of position 
 would be quite enough to kill any ordinary structure. And 
 yet and yet the Cathedral of Burgos is so vast in its pro- 
 portions, that it can stand anything. No matter though the 
 bustling streets come up to its very doors, like the waves 
 of the sea to the foot of a mighty cliff, still it lifts its head 
 unmoved by the tumult and raging below, while it soars 
 and soars to the sky. And so, as we stand at the foot of 
 the towers and look up, we feel very, very small, and they 
 seem very, very hign. 
 
 But with all this, the greatest impression is not from 
 without, but from within. In this respect the Spanish 
 cathedrals differ from the Italian, at least from those in 
 Florence, where the famous Duomo, the unveiling of whose 
 new faade has excited such enthusiasm in Italy, has one 
 great defect. Externally it is one of the grandest Cathe- 
 drals in Europe. As you stand in front of it, with the 
 Campanile at its side, or walk round it, and measure its 
 walls how far they reach and how high they rise ! and 
 look up to the dome of Brunelleschi, more vast than that 
 which Michael Angelo built over St. Peter's at Eome, you 
 
70 THE INTKKIOR. 
 
 are quite overwhelmed. And yet this great building, the 
 pride of Florence, in its interior is so badly cut up in its 
 arrangement of pillars and arches, that it looks smaller 
 than from without and is far less imposing. And even 
 Santa Croce, 
 
 1 ' Within whose holy precincts lie 
 Ashes that make it holier," 
 
 depends for its interest chiefly on its monuments. Trav- 
 ellers visit it, not to see one of the ecclesiastical wonders 
 of Italy, but chiefly to look upon the tombs of Dante and 
 Michael Angelo. 
 
 To all this the Spanish Cathedrals offer a striking con- 
 trast. Their interiors are perfect. Vast as they are, they 
 are so admirably proportioned that immensity never be- 
 comes monstrosity. "The length, the breadth, and the 
 height " are, if not " equal," yet perfectly measured the 
 one to the other. To this should be added the effect of 
 color : for while the Florentine churches have interiors as 
 bare and cold as those of a monastery, the Spanish Cathe- 
 drals are all aglow with the light of stained-glass windows, 
 while the numerous altars are illumined and glorified 
 by paintings of the old Spanish masters. "With the archi- 
 tecture and the color together, the effect is of a majesty 
 that can hardly be described. "When Edward Everett Hale 
 had spent an hour or two in the Cathedral of Burgos, he 
 could only say, " It is wonderful : I have seen nothing like 
 it." He adds indeed, " It is not so large as Cologne, but 
 the finish is perfect." In his mind the greater vastness of 
 the one was more than balanced by the exquisite beauty 
 of the other. 
 
 As we entered, the morning service was begun, and 
 worshippers were kneeling between the choir and the high 
 altar. This open space, where the transept crosses the 
 nave, is directly under the dome, which rises above it to a 
 
THE CHOIft TX THE CENTRE. 71 
 
 height of nearly two hundred feet. It was a very striking 
 scene, in which the lights and shadows seemed to be 
 responsive to the rising and falling of the voices, and the 
 hearts even of strangers rose and fell as they turned their 
 eyes, now to the dim vault above, and now to the kneeling 
 worshippers below. 
 
 Here for the first time I observed what is peculiar to 
 the Spanish Cathedrals, the introduction of the choir, or 
 " coro," in the centre of the church, which mars greatly 
 the architectural effect. Yet it has its compensation : for 
 as the worship is in the centre, the circling waves of sound 
 roll into every side chapel (there are fourteen of them) ; 
 so that not only the crowd that kneels before the high 
 altar, but the poorest and humblest worshipper who may 
 seek a refuge from every eye, that he may pour out his 
 heart before God, may still hear the words of faith and 
 hope to bear up his soul to heaven. 
 
 When the service was ended, we turned from listening 
 to seeing, and tried to take in the majesty that was around 
 us in the stately columns which stood like a grove of the 
 cedars of Lebanon, whose branches touching overhead 
 made the lofty arches that bore up the mighty roof of 
 this forest of stone. 
 
 After this general survey, we made the round of the 
 side chapels, each of which deserves a separate study, as 
 they are not only rich in precious marbles and other costly 
 decorations, but many of them have a historical interest, 
 as connected with old Castilian families, whose names and 
 deeds live in Spanish song and story. Every Spanish 
 Cathedral is a kind of Westminster Abbey a place of 
 burial for the great of former generations. Here they lie 
 the sculptured forms that rest above their sepulchres 
 representing them as they were in the days of life : the 
 bishop in his robes, with his hands folded on his breast ; 
 
72 A SPANISH WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 and the kniglit in his armor, but who will never go forth 
 to battle again. In these memorials of the past, one may 
 read the history of Spain. An illustration of this we have 
 in the Chapel of the Constable of Castile, which, though 
 not one of the side chapels, is a part of the Cathedral. He 
 was a warrior of the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, and 
 entered Granada at their side. As in all these old Spanish 
 heroes war was always mingled with religion, we have 
 here not only his sword and helmet and coat-of-mail, but 
 the ivory crucifix which he bore with him on his campaigns, 
 and the sacramental vessels with which he had mass cele- 
 brated on the field of battle. His wars are over now, and 
 here, with his beloved wife by his side, he has slept the 
 long sleep of four hundred years. With the Catholic idea 
 in regard to the state of the dead, it seemed fitting that 
 they should rest in the place of constant prayer : for I 
 found that worship was going on in some part of the 
 Cathedral almost without ceasing ; that while the high 
 altar was vacant and the choir was empty, in some of the 
 chapels masses were being said by the side of the tombs, 
 and " the daily sacrifice " was offered for the quick and 
 dead. 
 
 Next to the Cathedral, the object of greatest interest 
 in Burgos is a Carthusian Monastery a couple of miles 
 from the city, which was founded four hundred years ago 
 by Queen Isabella. Taking a carriage with two strapping 
 mules, we crossed the river, on the other side of which is 
 the Alameda, a park planted with elms, which furnishes a 
 delightful retreat for the people of the city in the heat of 
 Bummer. It is a pretty drive through the long avenue 
 lined with trees. On the right are large barracks, with 
 quarters for six regiments of mounted artillery. As we 
 were enjoying the beauty of this rural suburb of Burgos, 
 we perceived that we were an object of attention to a 
 
THE CARTHUSIAN MONASTERY. 73 
 
 swarm of beggars, who had fixed their hungry eyes upon 
 us. One burly fellow trotted beside the carriage for a 
 mile, determined to be " in at the death " whenever we 
 should come to a halt. As we rode up to the Monastery 
 (which stands in a noble position on the top of a hill, 
 commanding an extensive view of the country) we found 
 the outer court filled with another troop of the noble army 
 of beggars, lying in wait for the coming of the foreigner, 
 the only escape from whom was to get inside as quickly 
 as possible. 
 
 Kinging at the gate for admission, a small grated 
 window was drawn aside, revealing the cowled face of a 
 monk, who, to our request for admission, replied by asking 
 " If there were any ladies in the party ? " as if the presence 
 of one of the sex would be dangerous to his soul. Being 
 assured that there were none, the key was turned, and the 
 heavy door swung open, and we found ourselves in a long 
 corridor, through which we followed our guide, who was 
 habited in the Carthusian dress, a frock of coarse white 
 flannel, with a cowl over his closely shaven head, although 
 the rules of his order did not forbid him to wear a very 
 respectable and rather handsome beard. Otherwise he 
 was a plain-looking friar (he told us he was but a lay- 
 brother), who, if he had been put to work at some humble 
 industry, might have made an honest living. These lay- 
 brothers perform the menial offices of the place. One of 
 them we saw, with a cowl over his head, sweeping out the 
 corridor ! Our conductor was not much above the same 
 level. However, humble as he was, he had sufficient 
 intelligence to serve as a guide. 
 
 The Monastery was begun by the father of Isabella, 
 King John II., in 1442, and after his death was completed 
 in his honor by his illustrious daughter, and here both 
 father and mother are buried in the church before the 
 
74 HOW MANY BROTHERS ARE HERE NOW? 
 
 high altar, in a tomb of wliicli Hare says : " Their gorgeous 
 alabaster monument is perhaps the most perfectly glorious 
 tomb in the world." I observed that the monk, whether 
 awed by its magnificence or by the sacredness of the place, 
 spoke in a whisper. On one side of this pompous sepulchre 
 is one of less pretension, to their son Alfonso, whose early 
 death left open to his sister Isabella the pathway to a 
 throne. These tender memories of course made the place 
 very sacred to the gentle and devout Queen, who came 
 here often to pray at the tombs of her beloved dead. 
 
 In another room hangs on the wall a painting of scenes 
 in the life of our Lord, which is made with leaves to fold 
 up like a screen, and is the veritable one that was carried 
 by Ferdinand and Isabella in their wars, and placed on an 
 altar in the camp when they would celebrate military mass 
 in the midst of their armies. 
 
 All this was exceedingly interesting, but I began to 
 grow curious about the Monastery, not as it was four 
 hundred years ago, but as it is to-day ; and with American 
 inquisitiveness, ventured to ask : 
 
 " How many brothers are here now ? " 
 
 The answer was made plain to the eye as well as to the 
 ear, when the monk took us to what was the oldest part 
 of the building which had been the chapel, but as the 
 Monastery grew in size, had been turned into a refectory. 
 This was on a scale that indicated a large number of 
 inmates ; it might have served for two hundred ; but the 
 poor monk sadly confessed that their numbers were now 
 reduced to twenty-seven ! 
 
 Next I advanced to more direct inquiries : 
 
 " What do you do here, good father ? " " How do you 
 spend your time ? " and " What supports the Monastery ? " 
 For I remembered that the Carthusian Order, founded by 
 Saint Bruno in 1086, was one of the strictest Orders in the 
 
THE HOURS OF DEVOTION. 75 
 
 Church, subject to stern rules of labor, requiring them to 
 work as well as to pray ; so that the Carthusian monks 
 were famous agriculturists. Hence I thought it not intru- 
 sive to inquire if this rigid discipline were still kept up : 
 if this Monastery were conducted according to the original 
 rules of the Order. 
 
 The answer said nothing of agriculture or any other 
 industry. As to their means of support, the monk con- 
 fessed that their supplies were rather low ; but such as 
 they were, they were derived from two sources gifts, 
 which were few, and masses for the dead, which were paid 
 for, that the souls of the dead might be delivered from 
 purgatory ! 
 
 "And what are your hours of devotion ? " 
 
 " From eight o'clock in the morning to nine, and from 
 three to four in the afternoon " ; besides which they are 
 roused from their slumbers at night to pray, which they 
 begin at half past ten, and continue till half past two : 
 thus making two hours in the day-time and four at night, 
 six in all, just one-fourth of the twenty-four hours ! 
 
 What a volume of prayer is this to be going up without 
 ceasing, day and night, like a cloud of incense, before 
 God! Such is our first thought, but I fear that, if we 
 could be present at these nightly vigils, we should be dis- 
 enchanted ; that, instead of a company of worshippers rapt 
 in devotion, we should find only a couple of dozen tired, 
 sleepy monks, droning out their prayers to the echo of the 
 walls of stone. So I found it at Mount Sinai, and I have 
 no reason to think it different here. 
 
 "Might we be permitted to see the rooms of the 
 monks ? " He hesitated a little at this, but finally showed 
 us one which was probably of the better class, as he said 
 " it would be for a priest who performed mass." But it 
 was as naked and cheerless as a prison cell, with stone 
 
76 IN A MONK'S CELL. 
 
 floor and bare walls. In the corner was a little opening in 
 which the wretched occupant could light a few coals to 
 keep himself from perishing with the Winter's cold. Here 
 he lived apart from his brethren, not even taking his meals 
 in the refectory, but alone, his scanty portion being 
 brought to him by one of the servants of the convent, and 
 placed at a hole in the wall, through which it was drawn 
 in as it might be by a convict behind the bars. Overhead 
 was a niche in which he slept, where was a piece of coarse 
 sacking filled with straw, and a low shelf of stone on which 
 he might place a crucifix and a candle, and a stone step on 
 which he could kneel and say his prayers. Here lived the 
 Carthusian monk, immured as in a dungeon, thinking to 
 gain heaven by making earth a hell ! 
 
 As we came out we met a young brother with a pleas- 
 ant face, who had a basket of bread which he had cut in 
 pieces, to serve to the poor, who were already gathered 
 round the door waiting for their daily dole. This onice of 
 charity is the only one which redeems the monastery from 
 the just reproach of utter uselessness, and even this is a 
 very doubtful good, as the giving of alms to the beggars 
 at their gates only increases the hungry horde, and thus 
 swells to vaster proportions the pauperism which already 
 rests as a terrible incubus on the life of Spain. 
 
 Making our acknowledgments to our conductor, and 
 slipping a coin into his hand (which he did not refuse, 
 like the brother in the monastery at the house of Ignatius 
 Loyola), w T e took our leave. As the door opened, the 
 beggars made a rush, not for the door or the basket of 
 bread, but for us, whining and moaning and begging piti- 
 fully for alms. So combined was the attack, that it requir- 
 ed some effort to make our way to the carriage. Once in 
 our seats, I tossed a handful of coppers to the crowd, at 
 which one and all, men and women and little children, 
 
WHAT IS IT GOOD FOR NOAV? 77 
 
 made a dive, tumbling over one another in their eagerness 
 for a few pennies. 
 
 Such is the great Carthusian Monastery of Burgos, 
 founded by Queen Isabella, and which to her was sacred 
 as a family mausoleum. But when she died she was not 
 buried here beside her father and mother, but in Granada, 
 which had witnessed the conquest of the Moors. Since 
 her day it has no longer served as a royal burying place. 
 The Spanish Kings will not have it even as a sepulchre. 
 Its occupation is gone, so that we can but ask, as we take 
 our departure, What is it good for now f Of what use is it 
 to any human being ? 
 
 These Carthusians are not like the brave monks who 
 keep guard at the Hospices on the summits of the Simplon 
 and the Great Saint Bernard to succor lost travellers : nor 
 even like the Brothers of the Miser ecordia, who may be 
 seen in the streets of Florence, or Naples, with covered 
 faces, making visits to the sick, or burying the dead : they 
 only exist to keep up an old shrine of devotion. Such a 
 system is out of place in the nineteenth century : it has 
 served its purpose, and now its last and best use is to die. 
 The life of solitude and seclusion, even if it be a life of 
 prayer, is not that which best fulfils the purpose for which 
 we were sent into the world. The cell and the dungeon 
 are the work of men ; the sunshine, the light and the air, 
 are the gift of God. 
 
CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO THE CAPITAL. 
 
 The traveller who comes to Spain to see the country at 
 its best to enjoy both the scenery and the climate in per- 
 fection should defer his coming till the Spring. Or if he 
 comes in "Winter, let him begin in the South, for which he 
 might sail from New York directly to the Mediterranean, 
 and land at Gibraltar. He will then enter by Andalusia, 
 where the climate differs little from that of the African 
 coast on the other side of the Straits. In Seville the air 
 is as soft and balmy as on the Eiviera, and palms are grow- 
 ing in the open air ; and in the early Spring he will find 
 the nightingales singing in the woods of the Alhambra. 
 Thence he can move northward by easy stages to Cordova, 
 Toledo, and Madrid, where he will find the capital in its 
 glory in the month of May, and some time in June he may 
 cross the Pyrenees. 
 
 But if his object be not so much to see beautiful land- 
 scapes and bask in the southern sun, as to study the gov- 
 ernment and people, he may find it as well to come, as I 
 have done, in Winter. For Madrid especially, this is in 
 some respects the best season : for if the trees are not in 
 full leaf, and the parks look bare and desolate, it has other 
 
THE PUERTA DEL SOL. 79 
 
 attractions as the capital of the country. The Queen is 
 here ; the Court is here ; the Cabinet is here ; the Cortes 
 is in session ; and this is the centre of the political life of 
 the nation. Nor of that only : it is the time of the year 
 when all the schools have resumed their course, and stu- 
 dents throng the streets ; when the University is open, and 
 the professors are in their studies and their laboratories. 
 Thus all that is most distinguished in the literary and sci- 
 entific, as well as the political, world of Spain is now gath- 
 ered within its capital. 
 
 I have been here a fortnight, and have come to feel 
 quite at home. I have become accustomed to the Spanish 
 ways, even to the ringing of bells, by which I am awakened 
 every morning, which reminds me that I am in a Catholic 
 country. The streets have grown familiar. We are in the 
 centre of everything on the Puerta del Sol, on which 
 fronts the Hotel de la Paix. This is the heart of Madrid, 
 the central point of the spider's web, from which radiate 
 all the principal streets, and the tramways (!) that Amer- 
 ican invention which has made its way into every capital 
 in Europe. The Puerta del Sol is not only the geograph- 
 ical centre of the city, but the centre of its life, the place 
 where its heart beats, into which all streams pour and 
 from which they flow. Hither flock the gossip-loving Mad- 
 rilenos on Summer nights to exchange the news of the 
 day by the pale light of the moon ; to talk over the polit- 
 ical situation ; to discuss with the same eagerness the last 
 bull-fight or the last emeute, or the prospect of another. 
 And hither too they flock on Winter days as well as on 
 Summer nights, though now they wrap their cloaks about 
 them to protect them against the cold, and also as a cos- 
 tume peculiarly befitting their Spanish dignity. Mingling 
 in this bustling crowd, or even looking down upon it from 
 our windows, we begin to feel as if we were a part of it : 
 
80 VISIT TO CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 
 
 for even though we may not understand the language, we 
 can catch a few words, and perceive in some degree the 
 peculiar temper of this people, so full of pride, in which 
 they overtop any other in Europe ; haughty and reserved, 
 and yet all aglow with a suppressed fire, which may flame 
 out at any moment in a duel or an insurrection. 
 
 An American ought to feel at home in Spain, as it is 
 the country to which is due the discovery of his own, and 
 as from the earliest date the relations of the two have been 
 most intimate. I have had a new sense of this, since I 
 spent an hour with Christopher Columbus, the lineal de- 
 scendant of the great discoverer, and who inherits his title 
 with his immortal name. The late Secretary of Legation, 
 to whom I am indebted, as are many of my countrymen, 
 for courtesies in Madrid, took me to see the Duke of 
 Veragua, for that is the title which he bears. As he en- 
 tered the room, he saluted us with great warmth, and at 
 once seized my hat ! a motion which I gently resisted ; 
 but as he still held it, I had to submit. My friend told me 
 afterwards that this was a mark of Spanish courtesy : for 
 had my host permitted me to sit hat in hand, it would 
 seem to imply that he regarded me as a stranger, who had 
 come to make a brief and formal call ; whereas when he 
 took it from me, and laid it aside with due Castilian grav- 
 ity, it signified that he wished me to regard myself as at 
 home, and that (to use the Spanish phrase) "his house 
 was mine." I am sorry to say that it was not much of 
 a hat : for it had been sadly battered out of shape in 
 knocking about on land and sea ; but I thought it acquired 
 a certain dignity from having been held in the hands of 
 Christopher Columbus, and would have kept it as an 
 heirloom in the family, had not a higher authority than 
 mine condemned it as unworthy to cover my poor head, so 
 that it had to go to the bourne from which no hat returns. 
 
PORTRAIT OF THE GREAT NAVIGATOR. 81 
 
 With this cordial welcome, one could not indeed but 
 feel at home ; and as we sat on the sofa side by side, 
 the conversation naturally turned to subjects in which we 
 had a common interest. Every American is, of course, 
 interested in the discoverer of America, and would pause 
 long before what might claim to be a portrait of the great 
 navigator. Our host had found what he regarded as the 
 best one in existence in an old monastery, from which he 
 obtained it, and it was now hanging on the wall. It is a 
 noble countenance, some features of which have been per- 
 petuated in his descendants, and may be recognized in the 
 possessor of the name at the present day. One cannot 
 look at it without thinking what a life of care and struggle 
 had left its traces on that rugged face during the long and 
 weary years that he sought for royal patronage, and sought 
 in vain. It is no common feeling which rises in you at the 
 moment that you have looking down upon you the eyes 
 that first saw the shores of the New World. 
 
 Knowing that there had been some question as to the 
 burial-place of Columbus, I was glad to be able to make 
 inquiry of one who, of all men living, was most likely to 
 be rightly informed, and to hear him say that he thought 
 there could be no doubt that the remains of his ancestor 
 were in the Cathedral of Havana. This is as it ought to 
 be : for though he died in Spain (in Valladolid, May 20, 
 1506), the country to which he had given a hemisphere, 
 and yet to which he was once brought back in chains, was 
 not worthy to keep his bones ; and it was most fitting that 
 they should be carried across the ocean, to rest forever in 
 the New World which he had discovered. 
 
 The mention of Havana led us to speak of Cuba a 
 subject on which every Spaniard is sensitive, and to which 
 the present Columbus clings with Spanish pride as the 
 last and greatest possession which Spain holds in that far- 
 
82 CELEBRATION 1 OF THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA. 
 
 distant land which his forefather was the first to see. He 
 said that Spain would never give up Cuba ; that no power 
 should take it from her, and no money could buy it ; that 
 slie would hold it if it took her last dollar and her last 
 drop of blood ! 
 
 Turning the conversation to the projected celebration 
 of the four hundredth anniversary of the discovery of 
 America, I told him that he ought on that occasion to pay 
 us a visit, and to see for himself how great was that West- 
 ern Hemisphere which his ancestor had brought to the 
 knowledge of mankind. But he has all a Spaniard's dis- 
 inclination to leave his own country, and thinks that the 
 celebration should be in Spain, from which Columbus 
 sailed, rather than in the islands or the continent that he 
 discovered beyond the sea. I could not but feel that there 
 was a good deal of reason in what he said. If there is 
 to be indeed a grand Festival of the Nations a sort of 
 Thanksgiving in which two Hemispheres unite is it not 
 fitting that the children should go back to the old home 
 and the old hearthstone, rather than that the mother coun- 
 try should come to the new ? However it may be arranged, 
 every one of us must desire that Spain should know that 
 America (which ought to have been called Columbia in 
 honor of Columbus) does not forget what it owes to the 
 great navigator who sailed from her shores, or to the 
 Ferdinand and Isabella who sent him forth on his voyage 
 of discovery. 
 
 It is a pleasant reflection to an American coming to 
 Spain, that the relations of the two countries have always 
 been friendly. We have had two wars with England 
 that of Independence and that of 1812 (so sad it is that 
 those of the same kindred and blood will sometimes quar- 
 rel) but with Spain, while our relations have been far 
 less close and intimate, our mutual good understanding 
 
RELATIONS OF SPAIN TO AMERICA. 83 
 
 has never been interrupted. Perhaps it has been in part 
 for the very reason that we have not been in such close 
 proximity and such constant intercourse, \vhich might 
 have caused difficult questions to arise, but I must think 
 it is also partly due to the wisdom of our government in 
 selecting its representatives. In this respect our country 
 has been singularly fortunate from the days of Alexander 
 Everett (chosen for this post by John Quincy Adams) and 
 Washington Irving. Of late Ministers, Mr. Lowell was 
 honored in Madrid, as he was afterwards in London, both 
 by the government to which he came and by scholars and 
 literary men. Hannibal Hamlin, who was here but a few 
 months, was looked up to with the veneration due to an 
 old man of noble presence, who had been Vice-President 
 of the United States when Mr. Lincoln was President. 
 Our late Minister, Mr. Foster, I hear spoken of everywhere 
 with a degree of respect united with a personal regard, 
 which is very gratifying. It is only necessary to mention 
 his name as that of a friend, to be introduced at once to 
 the courtesies of the best people in Madrid. 
 
 This honorable line of diplomatic representatives has a 
 worthy successor in our present Minister, Hon. J. L. M. 
 Curry, of Richmond, Virginia. To me it is no objection 
 that he was on the other side in our late civil war. I 
 think the time has come when leading men of the South- 
 ern States should have their place in the general govern- 
 ment, if the South is to be, not a detached fragment of our 
 country, lately broken off from it, and with the rent but 
 partially restored, but a constituent part of an indissoluble 
 Union. I have found by personal observation that many 
 of the very best men in the South were those who fought 
 the hardest against us ; and having been among them, 
 having eaten of their bread and drunk of their cup, God 
 forbid that I should say one word against them. When 
 
84 THE AMERICAN MINISTER. 
 
 our bravest leaders, when Grant and Sherman and Sheri- 
 dan, accept the loyalty of Southern men and Southern sol- 
 diers, as offered in perfect good faith, it ill becomes us to 
 revive bitter hatreds, or even painful memories. Mr. Curry 
 is not only a man of the highest character, but a most 
 efficient administrator. For five years before he resigned 
 to accept a foreign post, he was the manager of the great 
 trust left by the late George Peabody for the promotion of 
 education in the Southern States ; and with what signal 
 ability he fulfilled its responsibilities, all who were asso- 
 ciated with him in the Board (which includes such men as 
 Ex-President Hayes, Mr. Evarts, and Kobert C. Y/inthrop) 
 will testify. A man of such proved capacity for public 
 affairs, was just the one to be entrusted with a diplomatic 
 position, the duties of which are often of the most delicate 
 kind, requiring not only a thorough mastery of public 
 questions, but tact and judgment, wisdom and discretion. 
 
 Added to all this is the social influence which our new 
 Minister has acquired. He is a great favorite, not only in 
 official circles, but in Spanish society, in which he is aided 
 by his admirable wife. Living in very handsome style (far 
 beyond what his salary affords, but the deficiency of which 
 he supplies from his private means), he entertains gener- 
 ously. At his table I have met Members of .the Cabinet, 
 Foreign Ministers, and officials of the Palace, while his 
 weekly receptions bring together a large representation 
 of the best circles in Madrid. 
 
 Some may think this going beyond the letter of his 
 instructions or the sphere of his duties, but such hasty 
 critics understand but little the country with which he has 
 to do. No people in the world are more influenced than 
 the Spaniards by such courtesies, which often smooth the 
 way to the successful negotiation of public affairs. Even 
 a stranger can see this. One day Mr. Curry took me to 
 
SIR CLARE FORD. 85 
 
 the Foreign Office, to introduce me to Senor Moret, the 
 Secretary of State, who is one of the first men in Spain, 
 and it was easy to see at a glance that the two men were 
 in relations, not only of business, but of personal friend- 
 ship ; and after a half-hour of conversation, I could not 
 help saying to the distinguished Secretary, "So long as 
 you are in charge of the Foreign Affairs of Spain, and we 
 are so fortunate as to have such a Minister as we have 
 now, I am sure there can be no difference between our 
 two countries " a sentiment to which he responded very 
 warmly, so far as it expressed what he felt to be no undue 
 praise to the American Minister. 
 
 And here I must add my personal acknowledgment for 
 all the courtesies which I received from the same source. 
 Although I had seen Mr. Curry but once in my life (and 
 that was ten years ago in Cairo, when he was going to 
 Jerusalem and I to India), he has been as thoughtful and 
 as kind as if I had been an old friend ; and to him and his 
 wife, and I must not forget to add, to the accomplished 
 Secretary of Legation, Mr. Stroebel, I owe very much of 
 the pleasure of my visit to Madrid, for which I shall 
 always hold them in grateful remembrance. 
 
 Next to them in kindness has been the British Minis- 
 ter, Sir Clare Ford, who inherits a distinguished name. 
 He is a son of the man who wrote the famous Handbook 
 of Spain, which though it appeared a generation ago, is to 
 this day the best authority. Some months since my friend, 
 Eev. J. C. Fletcher of Naples, learning that I was coming 
 to Spain, wrote to me that Prescott, the historian, once 
 said to him that "the only man whose criticisms he feared 
 was Ford, inasmuch as he was of all men living the most 
 thorough master of Spanish history." His son inherits his 
 knowledge of Spain and of the language, with which he 
 became familiar long since in South America, in Buenos 
 
86 THE BRITISH MINISTER. 
 
 Ayres and Brazil. He is one of those Englishmen who 
 have been trained to diplomacy as a profession, as a grad- 
 uate of Oxford is trained for holy orders or to the bar, and 
 whom their government, wiser than ours, retains in office 
 under all changes of administration at home, and by whom 
 therefore England is so admirably served. As he had re- 
 ceived a letter from the British Secretary for Foreign 
 Affairs, introducing me, he seemed to consider me as 
 "committed to his care," and was indeed most kind in 
 every way ; getting me tickets to go everywhere, and com- 
 ing in his own carriage to take me to the Museum, which 
 contains one of the most celebrated picture galleries in 
 Europe (some think it surpasses any in Eome or Florence) ; 
 conducting me from room to room, and pointing out (as 
 he is a connoisseur and indeed somewhat of an artist 
 himself) the most notable pictures. I was always welcome 
 at the Legation, and we came to be such friends that I felt 
 quite at liberty to accuse him gently of the only ill turn 
 he had ever done to my country. As he had been in 
 Washington, and was familiar with transatlantic affairs, he 
 was chosen by his government to argue its case before the 
 Board of Arbitration which sat at Halifax to consider its 
 claims for damages in the matter of the fisheries, a Board 
 which decided against us, and adjudged the United States 
 to pay five millions of dollars ! This was rather a bitter 
 pill for us, elated as we had been with the result of the 
 Arbitration at Geneva of the claims for losses by the Ala- 
 bama. We had many a joke about it. "If we had only 
 had you for our counsel," I said, " we should not have had 
 to pay that money." However, I forgave him, seeing that 
 he was one of the kindest men in the world, telling him 
 "After all, it was no matter : it was all in the family " ; 
 and that "if ice had to pay Jive millions, they had to pay 
 fifteen for the damages caused by the Alabama! " all which 
 
THE FRENCH AMBASSADOR. 87 
 
 lie took in the best part. No one could be more cordial 
 than this noble-hearted Englishman, and not content with 
 my having a good time in Madrid, he proposed when I 
 should go away to pass me on to the Governor of Gibral- 
 tar, and the British Consuls along the Mediterranean. 
 
 To these kind American and English ministers must be 
 added one of another country, who also understands in 
 perfection the fine art of courtesy. A year ago my friend, 
 Mr. Elie Charlier of New York, spent a part of the "Winter 
 in Algiers and Tunis, where he found some old friends and 
 made many new ones. The Kesident of Tunis was partic- 
 ularly kind to him, so that an intimacy and friendship grew 
 up between the two families ; and when I was about to 
 depart for the same quarter of the world, he gave me a 
 letter of introduction. But on arriving in Paris, I learned 
 from the public journals that the Resident of Tunis had 
 been summoned home, and a few days later his name was 
 gazetted as the French Ambassador to Spain. He passed 
 through Pau at the very moment I was there, and we 
 reached Madrid about the same time. I saw him at a dis- 
 tance on the day that he went for the first time to be pre- 
 sented to the Queen, when he was conveyed with his suite 
 from the Embassy to the Palace and back again in three 
 royal coaches, such as were used in the time of Louis XIV., 
 of enormous size, covered with gold, each drawn by six 
 horses richly caparisoned, led by men on foot dressed in 
 the fantastic style of a former century. Truly, " Solomon 
 in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these " Ambas- 
 sadors. But his glory did not make the new Ambassa- 
 dor forget his old friends, and my letter of introduction 
 brought an immediate invitation to the Embassy where 
 he received me with true French warmth, which was fol- 
 lowed by still further courtesies ; and then, since he could 
 not be in Africa to receive me, he sent me letters of intro- 
 
88 OTHER FOREIGN RESIDENTS. 
 
 duction to the Governor of Algeria, to the Prefect of Con- 
 stantine, to his own successor in Tunis, and to others still 
 who could be of service to me on the Barbary coast. Thus 
 " the lines have fallen unto me in pleasant places," nothing 
 in life being more pleasant than to meet with such unex- 
 pected kindness in a land of strangers. 
 
 Outside of these official and diplomatic circles, the for- 
 eign community in Madrid is not large, but it includes 
 some men who are well worth knowing. Mr. Houghton, 
 the correspondent of the London " Standard " and of the 
 Paris " Temps," is one of those trained journalists sent by 
 the London press to all the capitals of Europe to collect 
 the news of current events, and to furnish the fullest and 
 most accurate reports not only to England, but to the 
 whole English-reading world. During the Carlist War he 
 was in camp with the Spanish army, since which (that is, 
 for the last ten years) he has lived in Madrid, where, speak- 
 ing Spanish like a Spaniard, he is perfectly at home ; and 
 being personally acquainted with almost every public man 
 in Spain, and familiar with the whole course of Spanish 
 politics, he is probably as good an authority as any man 
 living on the affairs of the Peninsula. 
 
 Nor will I forget my own profession, as represented in 
 an Englishman, a Scotchman, and a German : The Rev. 
 Mr. Whereat, the Chaplain of the British Embassy ; the 
 Rev. Mr. Jameson, a fine specimen of the Scotchman, who 
 has lived here so many years that he is " as good as a 
 native," though his heart clings to the stern faith and sim- 
 ple worship of his fathers ; and Pastor Miedner, the Chap- 
 lain of the German Embassy, who speaks half a dozen lan- 
 guages, and carries in his head so much historical lore, 
 both of Germany and of Spain, and so much varied infor- 
 mation of all kinds, that it is a perpetual delight to listen 
 to his conversation. 
 
SOCIETY IN MADRIDTHE UNIVERSITY. 89 
 
 It is often said that there is no society in Madrid. 
 This may be true in the sense that there is not so much 
 giving of dinners and parties as in Paris or London. But 
 there are certainly, if I may judge by my own experience, 
 men and women who draw around them circles of intelli- 
 gence and refinement, which are the delight of a scholar or 
 a literary man. One charming interior I have now in mind, 
 in which Mr. Lowell was wont to find himself more at 
 home than in any other in Madrid, where books piled to 
 the ceiling (as one might have seen them in the library 
 of Dean Stanley) attest the tastes of the occupants ; and 
 where, privileged as I have been to sit in the same room, 
 and, looking out upon the same Park, to listen to the con- 
 versation of the gifted lady who presides over the place, 
 I have felt that I was in the same atmosphere that per- 
 vades the most refined and cultivated homes of England. 
 
 Another influence which affects powerfully the intel- 
 lectual life of Madrid, is that of the University. I am 
 ashamed to say how ignorant I was of the state of learn- 
 ing in Spain. Of course it is not what it once was. The 
 day has long gone by when scholars from beyond the Apen- 
 nines, having exhausted the resources of their own coun- 
 tries, had to complete their studies in the Universities of 
 Cordova or Salamanca. To-day the thing is reversed, and 
 Spain is far behind France and Germany. And yet Madrid 
 has its University, which, with its ninety professors and its 
 five or six thousand students, holds no mean place among 
 the Universities of the Continent. Here were educated a 
 large proportion of those who are to-day the leaders in 
 Spain, where many of them obtained not only their knowl- 
 edge of science, but their liberal political opinions. Cas- 
 telar was a Professor of History here ; so was Moret, now 
 Secretary of State, and others, whose names still stand on 
 the rolls of the University, where they are retained as a 
 
90 THE ATHENEUM CLUB. 
 
 matter of pride, even though they may be no longer able 
 to undertake the duties of instruction. 
 
 Still another element of the growing intellectual life of 
 the capital, is furnished by its literary club, the Atheneum, 
 to which Mr. Jameson took me one evening ; where I was 
 surprised at the size of the building and the completeness 
 of its appointments ; with its spacious reading-room, in 
 which one may find all the leading journals of Europe ; 
 and more than all, at the character of those of whom it is 
 composed. It has eight hundred members, among whom 
 are most of the men who are eminent in any department 
 of public life Cabinet ministers, Senators and Deputies, 
 advocates and journalists, authors and artists. This tall, 
 spare man to whom my friend introduces me, is Figuerola, 
 who was once Prime Minister ; and this the leader of the 
 Free Trade party in Spain both of whom spoke with a 
 very warm feeling of America. Thus men of opposite par- 
 ties in politics and religion, come together under one roof ; 
 they meet on common ground, and enjoy equal freedom 
 in the expression of their opinions, in which Spaniards 
 exercise to the full their new-found liberty. One feature 
 it has which I have not seen in any club elsewhere, viz : 
 a hall for discussion, where once or twice in the week 
 there are regular debates. The evening that I was present 
 the subject was Parliamentary Government a topic which 
 opened a wide field, and on which Republicans and Mon- 
 archists spoke with equal boldness. 
 
CHAPTEK VH. 
 
 THE QUEEN REGENT AND THE LITTLE KING. 
 
 In the gay Spanish capital, the most important person- 
 age, the centre of all e} r es and all hearts, is of course the 
 widowed Queen, the mother of the future King of Spain. 
 In all the royal houses of Europe there is not a more 
 touching figure than that of this young mother, clad in 
 deep mourning, holding in her arms a child that was not 
 yet born when the father was laid in the grave. It is little 
 more than a year since King Alfonso died : the anniversary 
 occurred a few weeks since, and it recalled sad and pain- 
 ful memories. He was by no means a great King, nor 
 altogether a good King : how could he be, of such a royal 
 race, and coming to the throne when he was a boy of sev- 
 enteen ? But considering all that was against him, he did 
 not only as well as could be expected, but a great deal 
 better ; so that he made himself beloved while he lived, 
 and was sincerely mourned when he died. 
 
 Nor was he by any means a pattern in his domestic life. 
 Like many other royal husbands, he was inconstant in his 
 devotion, and gave too much of his time, if not of his 
 heart, to ladies of his court or capital. There was a time 
 when Madrid was full of the scandals of his amours, by 
 
92 THE DEATH OF ALFONSO. 
 
 which the Queen was so outraged that she took the two 
 little princesses, as a mother-eagle snatches up her young 
 under her wings, and indignantly left Spain, and fled back 
 to her own country, to the protection of her father, a bro- 
 ther of the Emperor of Austria. But a few months of this 
 voluntary exile brought the King to his knees, and the 
 cruel wrongs that he had done to the heart that loved him 
 were repented of and forgiven, and the later life of the 
 royal couple was most affectionate and happy ; so that 
 when he was on his death-bed, and she bent over him, 
 knowing that it was for the last time, all her woman's 
 heart gushed forth in tenderness and tears. 
 
 Alfonso was dead ! The officials of the Palace gathered 
 round him, and after the ancient Spanish custom, called 
 Senor ! Senor ! but he gave no answer ; and so they bore 
 him away with funereal pomp to the Escorial, on the side 
 of the Guadarrama Mountains, to sleep in the sepulchre 
 of kings. 
 
 When all was over, the Queen found herself alone, and 
 never was human being more desolate. Her position was 
 truly pitiful. It was nothing that she was in a Palace, 
 surrounded by the pomp of a court. She was not among 
 her own kindred, in her father's house, nor even in her 
 own country. The companions of her early life, who 
 would have loved her and cherished her, were far away 
 beyond the Pyrenees and beyond the Alps. Accustomed 
 to speak another language, it would have been a solace in 
 those hours of sadness if, instead of Spanish maids of 
 honor, she could have had nearest to her those who spoke 
 her own native tongue. But in all around her she had 
 none to lean upon, and almost none to love. 
 
 Besides, her own position was as yet undefined. Though 
 a Queen, she was not the sovereign: she was only the 
 widow of the King. The interregnum was one of great 
 
THE QUEEN CHOSEN REGENT. 93 
 
 anxiety to the Government, which was in fear of a revolu- 
 tion. The country that had been loyal to a Spanish King 
 might not be so ready to submit to an Austrian Queen. 
 But at this moment of painful suspense (such are the 
 surprises of history), weakness itself became a source of 
 strength, as feminine helplessness appealed to manly cour- 
 age and strength, and the widow of Alfonso was chosen 
 Queen Regent of Spain. 
 
 Mr. Curry tells me that he was present in the Cortes 
 when she appeared to take the oath, and he never wit- 
 nessed a more touching scene. The Chamber was crowded 
 with all that was greatest in Spain the high officers of 
 Government, Senators and Deputies, and the defend- 
 ers of the country, her military chieftains, some of them 
 bronzed and scarred from many wars. It was a moment 
 of intense emotion when the door opened and a figure in 
 deep mourning entered and stood in the midst of this 
 brilliant assemblage. There was a stillness as of death as 
 she answered in a low voice to the oath which bound her 
 to protect sacredly the rights and the liberties of Spain. 
 Then truly weakness proved strength. It had seemed as 
 if Spain were leaning on a slender reed ; but such is the 
 chivalrous feeling of this people that the sight of that 
 young and widowed Queen at once took them captive. 
 "When she withdrew, she had gained the victory. The 
 w r oman had proved stronger than a man, for she had con- 
 quered the hearts of the people. From that moment she 
 was a sovereign indeed, with a brave and loyal nation 
 around her. 
 
 This action of the Government, as it fixed the position 
 of the Queen in the State, gave her a place in the royal 
 house of Spain which could not be disputed, and made 
 her, with her preceding sorrow, softened in manner, in 
 disposition, and in character. Her private secretary, 
 
94 BECOMES MORE GRACIOUS. 
 
 Count Morphy, whom I met at Sir Clare Ford's, told me 
 that since the King's death, the Queen had changed very 
 much ; that there was in her manner a peculiar gentle- 
 ness such as those about her had not known before. In 
 her first years in Madrid she had seemed cold and distant, 
 and many of those who were presented at the Palace, 
 thought her very ungracious. When there were guests at 
 the royal table, instead of trying to entertain them, she 
 would converse apart in German, as if she preferred that 
 language and people to those of her adopted country, and 
 indeed it was said she sometimes made fun of the grave 
 Spanish hidalgos which was of course a mortal offence to 
 Castilian pride. In those days it could not be said that 
 the Queen was much loved. 
 
 But this irritability was partly explained by the fact 
 that she was not happy, the reasons for which were mani- 
 fold. Besides the conduct of the King, which gave her so 
 much pain, it was said that the King's sisters did not like 
 her : she was a foreigner ; she had not the blue Spanish 
 blood in her veins ; and so the daughters of Isabella took 
 a certain pleasure in making her feel that she was not one 
 of them. All this was changed by the King's death, when 
 instead of standing in his shadow, she stepped to the 
 front, and as Queen Regent became the first personage 
 in the realm. Then if she had given way to her natural 
 resentments, she had full opportunity for that which a 
 woman of rank sometimes feels to be the greatest pleasure 
 in life to snub those who have snubbed her ! It is to her 
 honor that she forebore indulging in this sweet revenge, 
 but returned good for evil, kindness for coldness ; while 
 in her intercourse with others she won all hearts by an 
 expression of countenance that was better than beauty, in 
 which a natural grace and dignity took on that tender and 
 appealing look which comes only from a great sorrow. 
 
A KING IS BORN. 95 
 
 And now was coming into her life something that was to 
 change her still more. In the oath which sire took before 
 the Cortes as Queen Kegent, there was one very singular 
 clause, which pledged her to guard sacredly the rights of 
 her own child (what an oath for a mother !) as yet unborn ! 
 This recognized what had been whispered in Madrid, that 
 she might yet give birth to one who, if a son, would be 
 the rightful heir to the throne of Spain. What the child 
 should prove, was a subject of great anxiety to all con- 
 nected with the Government, as the event might have an 
 important bearing on the future of the kingdom. 
 
 As the time approached, all the members of the Diplo- 
 matic Corps in Madrid were notified to hold themselves in 
 readiness to be summoned to the Palace at a moment's 
 notice. The hour arrived, and they came in a body in full 
 court dress, brilliant with stars and decorations, and were 
 introduced into an apartment adjoining the royal bed- 
 chamber, which had but a single door for entrance or egress, 
 so that there could be no possibility of introducing a sup- 
 posititious child. 
 
 Here they waited until at length a faint cry was heard, 
 and instantly the Prime Minister, Sagasta, emerged with a 
 beaming countenance, exclaiming " Viva el Key ! " [Long 
 live the King!], followed a moment after by an official, 
 bringing, as John the Baptist's head was brought, " on a 
 charger " the little morsel of humanity that was such an 
 object of interest to a whole kingdom. This was passed 
 round the circle to be inspected, like some curious speci- 
 men in natural history, by every foreign representative : 
 from the Papal Nuncio and the French Ambassador to 
 the Ministers of England, Germany, Austria, Italy, Russia, 
 and the United States ; and even from the Spanish-speak- 
 ing countries of South America ; that all might be able 
 henceforth to bear witness that a man-child had been 
 
96 HE IS BAPTIZED. 
 
 born into the world, and that he was of the blood-royal 
 of Spain ! 
 
 Of course, with our American ideas, all this seems very 
 childish and absurd, and yet it is not so in a country where 
 there is a hereditary monarchy : for if there is to be a King 
 at all, there must be some way of deciding who is the right- 
 ful heir to the throne. If it is left to the officials of the 
 Palace, there is room for fraud and imposture. Even in 
 sober England representatives of the Government, we be- 
 lieve, have always been present at the birth of the children 
 of Queen Victoria. The elder ones had their royal lineage 
 attested by the Duke of Wellington. Such precautions 
 must be taken ; otherwise there may arise a War of Suc- 
 cession, such as has disturbed the peace of almost every 
 kingdom in Europe. The Spanish War of Succession was 
 one of the most terrible in her history. 
 
 Hardly had this little creature crept into existence, even 
 while his half-opened eyes were blinking in the light that 
 streamed through the Palace windows, before he became 
 the leading figure in the State. From the very instant that 
 the thunder of cannon announced to the expectant capital 
 the birth of an heir to the throne, he was the King, and 
 his royal mother ruled only in his name. In a few days 
 came the august ceremony of baptism, when the Arch- 
 bishop of Toledo, the Primate of all Spain, in presence of 
 a great assemblage of civil and ecclesiastical dignitaries, 
 gave him the holy chrism ; anointing him with oil, touching 
 his eyes that he might see, and the tips of his ears that he 
 might hear, and his lips that he might speak only words 
 of truth and wisdom ; and, calling over him the name of 
 the Trinity, received him into the bosom of the Holy 
 Catholic and Apostolic Church. 
 
 Of course from the hour that he was born, the King 
 was an object of immense interest to the Spanish people. 
 
HE REVIEWS THE TROOPS ! 97 
 
 All his little ailments were subjects of animated conver- 
 sation, not only among the ladies of the Court, but in 
 the fashionable circles of Madrid ; and a friend tells me 
 how at a brilliant reception an official of the Palace ap- 
 peared with a joy in his countenance that could hardly 
 be expressed, as he exclaimed aloud to the astonished com- 
 pany, " The King has a tooth ! " This of course provokes 
 a smile ; and yet, after all, more than one prince has died 
 from teething, and a people may well be anxious when an 
 attack of the measles may decide the fate of the monarchy. 
 
 The little scion of royalty had not attained many 
 months before he was presented in public : was brought 
 out on the balcony of the Palace, not only that he might 
 hear the military bands playing in the court below, but 
 that the army might pass before him, horse, foot, and dra- 
 goons, sometimes to the number of ten thousand men, 
 going through all their military evolutions, infantry march- 
 ing and cavalry prancing all which the King surveyed 
 with a military eye ; while the high officers of the Gov- 
 ernment kept their gravity, and looked on with unmoved 
 countenance. 
 
 But the attempt to have the little King give audiences, 
 was not always successful. Not long since the Queen 
 made a pilgrimage to one of the shrines of the Virgin 
 which are so numerous in Spain, where she was received 
 with the honors becoming her royal state. A Duke, who 
 was the great man of the Province, met her at the door of 
 the church, armed with an address, which he proceeded 
 to deliver in the most sonorous Castilian, when the King, 
 who did not always observe the laws of propriety, set up a 
 cry which quite drowned the voice of the orator, to the 
 confusion of his royal mother, who possibly at that mo- 
 ment wished her enfant terrible in his nurse's arms, out of 
 sight and hearing. However, the Duke was equal to the 
 
98 COURT CEREMONY. 
 
 occasion, and extricated her from embarrassment in the 
 most gallant way, saying, like the true courtier that he wac, 
 "When the King speaks, his subjects must keep silence," 
 at which happy sally the Queen laughed, and all was smooth 
 again. 
 
 But while such contretemps must occur now and then, 
 still it cannot be doubted that the little Alfonso is an ele- 
 ment in the State which strengthens the monarchy. When 
 the Queen presents herself with the King in her arms, 
 the sight appeals to the Spanish people, as the sight of 
 Maria Theresa, holding up her boy in her arms, appealed 
 to the loyalty of the magnates of Hungary. Even Castelar, 
 Republican as he is, feels the universal impulse, which he 
 expresses in his hearty and generous way in saying : 
 "I cannot fight against a woman, nor against a child in 
 its cradle." 
 
 So strict are the traditions of royalty in Spain that the 
 King, though but a baby-in-arms, must be treated with 
 the ceremony that befits a sovereign. The national pride 
 would be offended if a single detail of royal etiquette were 
 omitted, and the little Alfonso is approached with almost as 
 much deference as would be accorded to the Emperor of 
 Germany. As a King, he has to be maintained in regal 
 state. The Cortes voted him one million four hundred 
 thousand dollars a year rather a liberal allowance for his 
 nourriture ; but this includes of course the maintenance of 
 the Palace and all the expenses of the royal household, in 
 which there is an army of officials large enough to dispose 
 of the most princely revenue. 
 
 Of course the Queen Regent, as the principal figure in 
 every Court ceremonial, has to go through with a great 
 deal of posing in public, giving audiences, and receiving 
 the representatives of foreign governments, who, if they 
 do not always come in such magnificence as the French 
 
SIMPLICITY OF THE QUEEN. 99 
 
 Ambassador with his gilded coaches, must at least be re- 
 ceived with a degree of state that shall give them a proper 
 sense of the greatness of Spain. All this must be very 
 irksome to her simple German tastes, and she must long 
 to escape from the burdens of a Palace to the freedom of 
 a more quiet life, her fondness for which she shows in 
 many ways. 
 
 The first time that I saw the Queen, she was walking in 
 the street. Mrs. Curry had taken me in her carriage to 
 the Prado, the fashionable drive of Madrid, which was 
 crowded with handsome equipages, in which were the 
 principal personages of the gay capital, when suddenly 
 her attention was attracted by the appearance of a lady on 
 the sidewalk, very plainly dressed, who, to judge from any- 
 thing in her appearance, might have been a governess. 
 She had no attendant but an old Dowager Duchess, with 
 whom she was walking very slowly to enjoy the brief sun- 
 shine of the short Winter afternoon. It was the Queen of 
 Spain ! 
 
 After this I saw her but once, and, as it happened, on 
 the very day that she had given that first audience to the 
 French Ambassador, when the Court ceremony was revived 
 in all the splendor of the time of Charles V. or Philip II. 
 It was the hour that Mr. Curry had appointed to take me 
 to call upon Senor Moret, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, 
 whose office is in a wing of the Palace. As we came out, 
 we had stopped for a moment in an archway waiting for 
 our carnage, when a modest coupe passed us, and a lady 
 leaning forward made a very low bow. It was the Queen, 
 who was so smiling and gracious that, although her bow 
 was intended for Mr. Curry, I could not help taking a part 
 of it to myself. No contrast could be more striking than 
 that of her plain carriage with the gorgeous coaches drawn 
 by six horses apiece, all spangled with gold, that had just 
 
100 THE CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN. 
 
 rumbled away from the gates of the Palace. She seemed 
 like a person who had got through with a pompous and 
 burdensome ceremony, and was but too glad to throw off 
 her royal robes, and regain her freedom by a return to her 
 natural simplicity. 
 
 Such is the Queen of Spain, simple and gentle, kind in 
 heart and gracious in manner, and tranquilly yet pro- 
 foundly happy. That which gave her the supreme joy 
 was not that a Prince was born, but a child a second 
 Alfonso, as a perpetual reminder of the first. The appear- 
 ance of that little being changed life for her. From that 
 hour she was a different woman : no longer lonely, sitting 
 at the Palace windows, looking out on the dreary land- 
 scape, across the barren plain to the bleak Guadarrama 
 Mountains, and thinking of the blue Danube. At once 
 the great halls of the Palace, that were so empty before, 
 were filled with a new presence. The frigid atmosphere 
 of the Spanish Court became soft and warm with an in- 
 fant's breath. Something was singing in her heart all day 
 long. It is very sweet to think of this deep joy that has 
 come at last to one who has been so sorely stricken. In the 
 hour of her bitterest grief God has given her an unspeak- 
 able consolation, to which she clings with all the love that 
 is in a woman's heart. In the photographs of her seen in 
 Madrid, she appears almost always with the little Alfonso 
 in her arms, as if he were all that was left to her out of 
 the wreck of her happiness. So the cloud is slowly lifting, 
 and all who look upon that widowed Queen in those mourn- 
 ing robes which she still wears, and will perhaps always 
 wear, will rejoice to see coming into that sad face, and into 
 those eyes that have shed such bitter tears, a new and soft- 
 ened light, like the clear shining after rain. 
 
CHAPTEK Vin. 
 
 THE CORTES DEBATE ON THE LATE INSURRECTION. 
 
 Ever since I crossed the frontier, I have observed with 
 wonder and surprise that I was in a country as free as my 
 own. With the history of Spain in mind, as having one of 
 the most despotic of governments, I was prepared to con- 
 duct myself with all due prudence and discretion, as I 
 should do in Russia. If I had been in St. Petersburg, and 
 gone into a cafe to get a cup of coffee, and a stranger had 
 come and sat down at the same table and commenced a 
 conversation, I should instantly have suspected him to be 
 a spy, and although I might have replied to his inquiries 
 so far as to give an opinion about the weather, and whether 
 there was likely to be a storm on the Baltic, yet as to the 
 Czar or the government, I should have been as silent as if 
 I did not know that they were in existence. And even in 
 Berlin, as one sits under the trees in the Unter den Linden, 
 he needs to be careful in his words if he has aught to say 
 of the Emperor, or even of Prince Bismarck. But here 
 all this is conspicuous by its absence ; I am not " shad- 
 owed " by a detective in my goings out and comings in, 
 but go where I will, and talk as I please. Of course it is 
 more considerate for a traveller to reserve his opinions of 
 
102 THE LATE INSURRECTION. 
 
 a country until he has seen something of it, but that is 
 merely a matter of taste or of common sense ; as to liberty, 
 he is as perfectly master of himself as if he were in Amer- 
 ica. And this in a country where twenty years ago Sagas- 
 ta and Martos and Castelar, if the Government could have 
 laid hands on them, would have been shot ! Truly, the 
 world does move, even in Spain. 
 
 How far it has moved within these years, may be 
 judged by what has recently transpired in the Cortes, 
 of which I speak from personal observation, as I have 
 watched the proceedings from day to day. The Cortes 
 had been called to meet two weeks before I reached 
 Madrid, and came together in a state of unusual ex- 
 citement from recent events. It was hardly a year since 
 the King's death, during which the country had been 
 under the government of the Queen Regent, whose gentle 
 person seemed to unite all parties, and the year of mourn- 
 ing passed in quietness and peace until near its close, 
 when on the 19th of September there was an emeute in one 
 or two of the barracks of Madrid. It was not a great 
 affair, including but a few hundred men. But that was no 
 fault of those engaged in it, who conspired to effect a 
 general rising that should culminate in a revolution. Mr. 
 Houghton, the correspondent of the London Standard, 
 tells me what was told him by an officer in one of the 
 barracks. At night he heard in the street the voices of 
 soldiers calling to some of their comrades within by name, 
 " to get up and come out." Surprised at this, he went to 
 the cot of one of those so addressed, and asked what it 
 meant. The man mumbled an incoherent answer, feigning 
 sleep ; but when the officer pulled off the coverlid, he 
 found that the man was dressed ! Turning to another, he 
 found him in the same condition, at which he took alarm, 
 and immediately summoned the guard, whom he posted 
 
THE LEADERS CONDEMNED TO DEATH. 103 
 
 at the entrance of the corridor with loaded rifles, and then 
 calling aloud that any man who stirred should be instantly 
 shot, he went from cot to cot, and found that almost all 
 were dressed, ready to spring up in an instant and seize 
 their guns and join in the revolt. Those who had already 
 gone into the streets were very turbulent, and three well 
 known officers who tried to check them General Velarde, 
 Count Mirasol, and Captain Peralta were shot down in 
 cold blood. Hence it is quite probable that but for some 
 unexpected delay or oversight leading to a want of com- 
 bination at the proper moment, the rising might have 
 become general, and ended in a revolution. As it was, it 
 was put down in a few hours. But in this at least it suc- 
 ceeded, that the Government was terribly frightened. As 
 soon as it recovered its composure, the chiefs of the insur- 
 gents were tried by court-martial. The leader was a 
 General in the army, Villacampa, who was well known as 
 a brave and daring officer, but also as a born conspirator 
 and revolutionist. As the offence was not a mere matter 
 of political opinion, but a clear case of mutiny and insur- 
 rection, which strikes at the very life of an army by striking 
 at its discipline, they could not but be condemned, and 
 accordingly some half-dozen officers were sentenced to be 
 shot. The day of execution approached ; it was within 
 twenty-four hours of the fatal moment, and they had even 
 been conducted to the chapel, according to the Spanish 
 custom, to be prepared for death, when the last act was 
 stopped by the hand, or rather by the heart, of a woman, 
 whom love and agony made eloquent to save one of the 
 condemned. It was the daughter of Villacampa, who, 
 frenzied at the thought of the fate which awaited her 
 father, flew from Deputy to Deputy, to get them to beg 
 for his pardon ; and from Minister to Minister, to throw 
 herself at their feet to plead for the life so precious 
 
104 THE SENTENCES COMMUTED. 
 
 to her. Before such entreaties they could not but be 
 greatly moved. Villacampa was an old friend of Sagasta, 
 the Prime Minister. But what could he do in a case so 
 clear ? At length the question was submitted to the Cabi- 
 net, of which there are nine members. Four voted inflex- 
 ibly that the law should take its course, and the sentence 
 of the court-martial be carried out ; while four thought that 
 the Queen Regent might exercise her prerogative of mercy 
 without danger of encouraging further rebellion. Sagasta 
 gave the casting vote in favor of pardon, and thus saved 
 the life of his friend, who with his companions was imme- 
 diately shipped off to Fernando Po, a Spanish island on 
 the coast of Africa. 
 
 Of course all these things were the topics of universal 
 discussion in the capital. For weeks nothing else was 
 talked of, and in the midst of this excitement the Cortes 
 was summoned to meet. For the enemies of the govern- 
 ment, here was an opportunity not to be lost. What an 
 occasion to charge it with want of foresight, that could 
 allow such a conspiracy to come to a head ; or with weak- 
 ness and vacillation in passing sentence on men justly 
 condemned, and then staying the hand of justice. No 
 sooner were the Ministers brought face to face with the 
 Cortes, than it was evident that there was to be a combin- 
 ed attack, and that they must expect a heavy assault all 
 along the line. It began in a general discussion of the 
 policy of the government. The aim of the opposition was 
 to carry what in the English Parliament would be called 
 "a vote of want of confidence." The debate had been 
 going on for two weeks, and was at its hottest when I was 
 first present at a sitting of the Cortes. Mr. Stroebel came 
 for us and took us to the Parliament House in which the 
 " Congreso " meets (the " Senado " meets elsewhere, near 
 the British Embassy) a large and handsome building, 
 
APPEARANCE OF THE CORTES. 105 
 
 fronting on a public square, in which there is a statue of 
 Cervantes. Passing in by a side entrance, we went up to 
 the Diplomatic box, from which we looked down on tho 
 whole assembly. It is composed of about four hundred 
 members, the greater part of whom, to judge from their 
 appearance, I should take to be men of position and edu- 
 cation. Some bear names well known in the old Spanish 
 nobility, but for the most part, they belong to what in 
 France would be called the haute bourgeoisie the upper 
 middle class. They have the air of being well-to-do, as 
 indeed they must be to hold their places here at all : for 
 in the Spanish Cortes, as in the English House of Com- 
 mons, the members receive no pay, the honor itself being 
 considered a sufficient reward ; and indeed it is so highly 
 prized that men are not only willing to take it without 
 compensation, but to pay roundly, if not in money, yet in 
 time and labor, for the distinction of belonging to the 
 body which makes laws for Spain. Although for the most 
 part men in middle life, yet they have the venerable look 
 of a more advanced age, from the fact that so large a 
 number of them are quite bald, having more hair on their 
 faces and chins than on their heads. Indeed I never saw 
 the light reflected from so many polished pates. 
 
 In the grouping of the members, one does not perceive 
 any great difference between this and a legislative body 
 in America. The seats are ranged in a semi-circle, as in 
 our Senate Chamber in Washington, the desk of the Pres- 
 ident being in the centre, or focus, where his eye is on 
 every one, and his ear can be reached by any voice. A 
 stranger would hardly know that Spain is not still a Re- 
 public but for the emblem of a crown woven in the 
 carpet a crown resting on two globes, in token that the 
 Spanish rule extends to both hemispheres. The only bit 
 of brilliant color in the whole chamber is in the mace- 
 
106 A LIBERAL MINISTRY. 
 
 bearers, two gorgeous creatures in red velvet, covered 
 with gold, with red velvet caps surmounted by tall white 
 feathers, who stand behind the President's chair leaning 
 against the curtain of the recess, silent emblems of power 
 and glory! 
 
 Looking down on the body below us, it was apparent 
 that it was in a state of unusual excitement. Members 
 came rushing in to take their seats, while ex-members and 
 Senators, who have the privilege of the floor, were standing 
 wherever one could set his foot, near the entrances and 
 round the desk of the President. 
 
 The bench of Ministers was full. Of the nine members of 
 the Cabinet, every man was in his place. At the head sat 
 the Prime Minister, Sagasta, a man whose bodily presence 
 gives little indication of the power which he is said to 
 possess. There is nothing in his appearance that would 
 arrest attention. In this respect he is in striking contrast 
 with his colleague, Senor Moret, the Minister of Foreign 
 Affairs, who sits beside him, who is one of the handsomest 
 men in Spain tall, erect, with fine, open countenance, 
 and winning style of address. He is a favorite not only 
 in diplomatic circles, but in general society, as he well may 
 be, for he is extremely courteous a man to make many 
 friends and no enemies. Near him is Leon y Castillo, 
 Minister of the Interior, who has also a commanding 
 presence, and is noted, among other things, for his sten- 
 torian voice. 
 
 This Cabinet, though holding power under a monarchy, 
 is Liberal. The previous one, under the late King, was 
 Conservative, although the Prime Minister, Canovas, was a 
 man of large political wisdom. A gentleman who has 
 lived long in Madrid said to me : " He is our only states- 
 man." Perhaps he never showed his sagacity so much as 
 by resigning power. When the King died, he felt that 
 
DEBATE ON THE INSURRECTION. 107 
 
 there was great danger of a political upheaval ending in a 
 revolution, and that it was all-important to rally to the 
 Government the support of the Liberal party ; and to that 
 end he offered his own resignation, and advised the Queen 
 to send for Sagasta, and give him authority to form a Lib- 
 eral Ministry. 
 
 In this Cabinet of nine members there is not a man with 
 a title. Every one has risen from the ranks raising him- 
 self to his present position by his personal ability. Sagasta 
 was an engineer, while Canovas was a schoolmaster ! This 
 is the stuff of which to make good citizens and good legis- 
 lators. Could any fact show more clearly how the demo- 
 cratic spirit is creeping into the institutions of old Spain ! 
 
 As we entered, the Minister of Finance was defending 
 the policy of the government in regard to the late insur- 
 rection, and particularly in granting the "indulto," or 
 pardon of the officers engaged in it. He showed that the 
 military insurrection was of but little significance, occur- 
 ring as it did a year after the King's death ; whereas if it 
 had taken place at that moment, when everybody was pre- 
 dicting a great catastrophe, it might have thrown the whole 
 kingdom into confusion. Now, thanks to the wisdom and 
 prudence of Senor Sagasta, he had gathered round him 
 the best elements from all the political parties from the 
 Conservatives on the one hand, and from the Posibilistas 
 (Castelar's following) on the other which showed the 
 public confidence in the strength of the Government, and 
 in its fidelity to its liberal professions, and fully justified 
 its continuance in power. 
 
 But now rose up a man of military bearing, General 
 Lopez Dominguez, a nephew of the late Marshal Serrano, 
 who was formerly a supporter of Sagasta, but who, in 
 the splitting up of parties into new divisions, now fig- 
 ures as the leader of the Dynastic Left that is, he is a 
 
108 SPEECH OF LOPEZ DOMINGUEZ. 
 
 Monarchist, while he dissents from the policy recently 
 pursued. He was himself at one time Minister of War, 
 and had proposed certain reforms in the army, which 
 he thought of the greatest importance. He reminded the 
 Government that he had warned them of the dangers to 
 which they were exposed if these reforms were not carried 
 out. But they had paid no heed to his remonstrance. To 
 the neglect of those warnings ; to the failure to carry out 
 those reforms ; he ascribed the late insurrection, for which 
 he now proposed to call the Government to a strict ac- 
 count. He said that, " returning to Madrid shortly after 
 that deplorable event, he did not find a single journal nor 
 a single man in the cafes, in public gatherings, or in social 
 circles, that did not think that it left the Ministry of Senor 
 Sagasta in complete isolation, and that it was virtually 
 dead!" 
 
 Here he was interrupted, and challenged to say who 
 were the men with whom he had had interviews. He ad- 
 mitted that some of them were men who had been opposed 
 to the Government, although others had been its support- 
 ers ; but he denied that the conferences had been for the 
 purpose of forming a new political party that should come 
 into power. "I mention this," he said, "because I have 
 been charged with being impatient and ambitious. The 
 only impatience, the only ambition, that I feel, is to see 
 grouped around the monarchy all the great forces of the 
 country marching onward in the paths of liberty " a sen- 
 timent that was received with much applause. 
 
 Then turning to the .Republicans at his side, he charged 
 them with giving encouragement and aid to the Socialists, 
 " teaching as they did the right of insurrection " ! " It is 
 necessary," he said, " that you should be disarmed ; that 
 the revolution should be disarmed. You may discuss 
 everything ; you may display your programme ; but you 
 
THE DEBATE AT ITS HEIGHT. 109 
 
 have no right to break the laws, nor to be wanting in 
 dutiful respect to the august lady who occupies the throne." 
 (Cries of " Very good ! Very good ! ") 
 
 In this strain the General spoke for an hour and a half, 
 ending his vehement philippic by saying : " It only remains 
 for me to add that everywhere and at all times my cry 
 shall be ' Long live the country ! [Viva la patria !] Long 
 live the monarchy ! Long live discipline in the army ! ' 
 and that my only wish for the country is peace and loyalty 
 at home, and strength, vigor, and freedom abroad ! " With 
 this he took his seat amid loud cheers from all sides of the 
 chamber. 
 
 After this torrent of Spanish eloquence, it was a con- 
 trast to hear the Marquis de la Vega de Armijo who, 
 though not an orator, is a man of influence in Spanish 
 politics say, in a voice free from all excitement, yet clear 
 and decided, that " while he belonged to the Liberal party, 
 the Government party, he did not hold that a political 
 party was a ' narrow religion ' [religion estrecha] ; and, 
 without being a revolter or a dissenter from his party, he 
 was free to say that he did not approve some of the late 
 acts of the Government." 
 
 The debate, which had been in progress for three or 
 four hours, was now at its height. The Cortes was in a 
 state of excitement. Castelar rose from his seat and moved 
 round to the chair of the President, and for the moment 
 we thought he was watching for an opportunity to speak. 
 But after a few minutes he returned to his place, leaving 
 the debate to be ended by him to whom it rightly be- 
 longed, the Prime Minister, Sagasta. 
 
 All the evening I had been watching the face of this 
 man, who holds in his hands at this moment the govern- 
 ment of Spain. He has a Jewish cast of countenance, and 
 perhaps has Jewish blood in his veins, as there is Jewish 
 
110 SPEECH OF SAGASTA. 
 
 blood everywhere in Spain. He is not tall, but lank, and, 
 if it were not an uncourtly word to apply to a prime min- 
 ister, we might almost say " raw-boned/' His figure is so 
 awkward and angular that he made me think of Abraham 
 Lincoln, and he has a truly Lincolnian way of sprawling 
 over the desk in front of him. He had a heavy, wearied 
 look. Perhaps he was very, very tired, as he well might 
 be. But when he rose to his feet, every trace of fatigue 
 had vanished. Looking straight across the chamber, he 
 met the enemy face to face. Straightening himself up, as 
 Lincoln might have done, he stood with folded arms, look- 
 ing at his assailants with an air of disdain. The lion was 
 at bay. After pausing for a few moments, he unloosed 
 his arms, and soon began to strike as the smith strikes the 
 anvil, bringing his hands down with violence on the desk 
 before him, as if to clench his argument. He made no 
 weak apology for failures, but defended the action of the 
 government as the only wise, and indeed the only possible, 
 course for it to pursue. To show this, he drew a picture 
 of the difficulties through which it had lately passed. One 
 year ago the King had died, leaving the nation without a 
 head. For months they knew not who was to be his suc- 
 cessor, for the child that was to be heir to the throne, was 
 not yet born. What a state of uncertainty and perplexity 
 to tempt malcontents, in the State and the army, to seek 
 some party or personal advantage from the calamities of 
 their country ! And yet, in spite of all this, the govern- 
 ment had held on its way, maintaining peace at home and 
 abroad putting down insurrection when it showed its 
 head, and was strong enough to pardon the miserable 
 conspirators without danger to the State. He closed by a 
 picture of the widowed Queen, drawing to her all hearts by 
 the dignity with which she bore her great sorrow, and carry- 
 ing in her arms the young life that was the hope of Spain, 
 
THE REPUBLICANS. Ill 
 
 This last allusion of course touched the Spanish heart 
 in its tenclersst point, and the house broke out into tumul- 
 tuous applause, in which the Prime Minister resumed his 
 seat. Immediately the Chamber rose, for anything would 
 have seemed tame after such a display. An hour later, at 
 a dinner at the American Legation, I met Leon y Castillo, 
 to whom I spoke of what I had just heard from Sagasta. 
 He replied " It was the greatest speech of his life ; he 
 was inspired ! " Of course I felt it to be a piece of extraor- 
 dinary good fortune to be present on such a memorable 
 occasion, and to have seen the Prime Minister of Spain at 
 the moment of his highest power. 
 
 This was my first visit to the Cortes, but not the last. 
 I had heard one side, and now wished to hear the other. 
 At the first sitting, those who spoke were Monarchists of 
 one type or another. Even Lopez Dominguez, in his fierce 
 assault on the Ministry, was at special pains to declare his 
 allegiance to the throne, and, like all the rest, threw upon 
 the Republicans the odium of being the instigators of the 
 late insurrection. But the Monarchists were not to have 
 it all their own way : there was another side to be heard. 
 Bight under the Diplomatic box sat the Left, or Republi- 
 can wing of the Chamber, which, if not in the majority, 
 still constituted a minority that would be very formidable 
 if it were a compact body, and not split into half a dozen 
 factions, but which even now, divided as it is, is a political 
 force, strong in its energy and boldness, since it does not 
 disguise its opinions on any floor or in any presence. If 
 it kept silent the last evening, it was only biding its time : 
 to-night it comes to the front, and will declare itself with- 
 out any reserve. 
 
 Among its leaders is Salmeron, who, during the period 
 of the Republic, was for a brief time its President. The 
 Republic is gone, but his faith is not gone : he is still and 
 
112 SPEECH OF SALMERON. 
 
 forever for " The Republic, one and indivisible ! " He 
 spoke, not in the -way of apology, but of manly vindication. 
 In his style of address, as in his personal appearance, he is 
 the very opposite of Castelar. Tall and somewhat stately 
 in figure, he speaks in measured sentences, waving his 
 long arms in a way which appeared to me very studied, 
 not to say affected. Indeed, as he was formerly a Pro- 
 fessor in the University, I thought he spoke more like a 
 Professor, or a teacher of elocution, than like a tribune 
 of the people. His slightly pompous manner led me 
 to look upon him as a graceful and ornamental, rather 
 than powerful, orator. And yet he is not by any means a 
 man of mere words, but of action. Indeed it is said that 
 during the last Summer he made a political tour in Cata- 
 lonia, in which he openly advocated armed rebellion a 
 fact which must make it somewhat difficult for him to free 
 himself from all complicity with the late insurrection. And 
 yet he seemed not in the slightest degree embarrassed, 
 but rolled out his sounding periods as calmly as if he were 
 delivering a lecture to the students in the University. 
 
 Beside him sat a deputy from Leon, Senor Alcarate, of 
 the same Republican faith, but of more fiery temper, who 
 spoke with great vehemence, pouring his hot words into 
 the very faces of the Monarchists and Ministerialists, who 
 sat on the opposite benches a passionate outburst which 
 seemed to exhaust him, so that at the close he almost fell 
 into the arms of Salmeron, who hugged him with affec- 
 tionate admiration. 
 
 These were bold words, indeed, to be spoken in such 
 a place. Leaning over the box, and listening with close 
 attention, I could hardly believe my ears as I heard this 
 proud defiance of any sort of tyranny, and this demand 
 for the widest liberty. And this was not in the American 
 Congress, but in the Cortes of haughty old Spain ! 
 
SPANISH ELOQUENCE. 113 
 
 In these visits to the Cortes, which were repeated 
 many times, I was very much surprised at the Spanish 
 eloquence. In the first debate there were a dozen, per- 
 haps twenty, speakers, but not a man used notes of any 
 kind ; and yet they spoke with a readiness and fluency in 
 striking contrast to the halting and hemming and hawing 
 in the English House of Commons. They have the ani- 
 mated gesticulation of the Southern races, and at the same 
 time their words flow with an ease and grace for which I 
 was wholly unprepared, and by which I was as much de- 
 lighted as surprised. 
 
 But there was something still better than this : the 
 Spaniards are not only good speakers, but, what is still 
 more rare, they are good listeners, hearing their politi- 
 cal opponents, not only with forbearance, but with atten- 
 tion and respect a respect which might well be imitated 
 by their neighbors on the other side of the Pyrenees. If 
 a debate on a topic so exciting as a military insurrec- 
 tion had taken place in the Chamber of Deputies in 
 Paris, it would have been interrupted a hundred times 
 by angry charges hurled from one side to the other. But 
 the Spaniards are a much graver people than the French ; 
 they are less demonstrative. Exciting as the subject was, 
 the Cortes listened for the most part in silent attention, 
 only now and then breaking out into applause. Once or 
 twice I observed a slight hiss, but this seemed to be di- 
 rected not at the speakers, but at those who by any move- 
 ment interrupted them. In such cases a touch of the bell 
 brought them promptly to order. On the whole, no speak- 
 ers could wish for a more respectful audience. 
 
 Indeed so punctilious are these Spaniards in their forms 
 of politeness, that they seem to have a pride in outdoing 
 one another in courtesy ; and sometimes when one is at- 
 tacked with some degree of asperity, he will reply in the 
 
114 THE ORDER OF SPEAKING. 
 
 blandest manner, taking good care to refer to his assailant 
 as " my personal friend, although my political opponent." 
 Some of our American Congressmen might learn the fine 
 art of courtesy from these high-bred Spaniards. 
 
 Another custom I was glad to observe, which shows the 
 Spanish simplicity : they call each other by their proper 
 names. Instead of the absurd way in the English Parlia- 
 ment of alluding to a preceding speaker as "the noble 
 lord " or " the right honorable and gallant member," it is 
 simply Senor Sagasta, or Senor Canovas, or Senor Castelar. 
 
 The excellent order is preserved by a rule which pre- 
 vents the constant interruption of speakers by those who 
 wish to get the floor, and which I think might well be 
 adopted both in the American Congress and in the British 
 Parliament. In the House of Representatives at Washing- 
 ton, if a member wishes to speak, he rises in his place and 
 calls " Mr. Speaker ! " If he is the only one, he has the 
 floor ; but if a dozen rise at the same instant, it depends 
 on whom the Speaker sees, or wishes to see, and as he is 
 sometimes affected with blindness when looking in one 
 direction, while very sharp-sighted when looking in the 
 other, those of his own party are placed at a great advan- 
 tage, by which serious injustice may be done, and a fair 
 debate be rendered impossible. So in the House of Com- 
 mons I have seen ordinary speakers put to silence by the 
 loud and repeated calls for "Bright," when (as I happened 
 to know from having seen him a few hours before) he did 
 not wish to speak, but would have much preferred to re- 
 main silent. Here is a case in which we may plead for the 
 rights of those who are not eloquent. One who has no 
 gift of speech may yet have a fact to state or an opinion to 
 express which is worth being heard, and he ought to have 
 a chance, and not to be choked down. 
 
 In this matter we might take a lesson from the Span- 
 
"ALLUSIONES" AND " RECTIFICATIONS" 115 
 
 iards. If a member of the Cortes wishes to speak, he has 
 not to fight for the floor, but gives his name to the Presi- 
 dent, by whom it is called in its proper order, so that he 
 shall have the same opportunity as others. Thus no mem- 
 ber is defrauded of his rights, and perfect justice is united 
 with perfect courtesy. 
 
 There is, however, one impediment, if not to the smooth 
 flow of debate, yet to its speedy termination. By the rules 
 of the Cortes, a member cannot speak more than once on 
 the same question ; but if another member refers to him, 
 stating his views as he thinks unfairly, he has the privilege 
 of reply to set himself right. These "allusiones" and 
 " rectificationes " often occupy more time than the original 
 debate, which is thereby indefinitely prolonged. Thus the 
 present discussion lasted four weeks (from the 18th of 
 November to the 16th of December), which gave ample 
 opportunity for all parties to be heard, and for every mem- 
 ber of importance to define his position. The debate called 
 out nearly a hundred speeches to be exact, there were 
 just ninety-eight ! 
 
 Some will say that this was all wasted time and useless 
 talk. I do not think so. When it is said that " Spaniards 
 talk a great deal," I say " Let them talk ; their mouths 
 have been shut long enough. It is not strange if they 
 should find a keen pleasure in the exercise of their new 
 rights." The very fact that they can speak so freely in the 
 face of the Government, is the healthful sign of liberty. 
 Such prolonged discussion is not useless : it does great 
 good. First of all, it is a relief to the speakers them- 
 selves : they have freed their minds. When a man is 
 bursting with political excitement, he must have some 
 vent for it, or he will explode. It is better that they 
 should relieve themselves by talking than by fighting. 
 This month of debate I look upon as the natural substi- 
 
116 POLITICAL EDUCATION OF THE COUNTRY. 
 
 tute for a revolution. The Spaniards have let off steam, 
 and are satisfied. The discussion has denned the position 
 of individuals and of parties. It has cleared up the situa- 
 tion, and strengthened the present liberal Government. 
 
 And better still : this long " deliverance " is a political 
 education for the Cortes and for the country. It is the 
 sign and symbol of its growing freedom. As I looked 
 down upon that assembly of four hundred men, so grave 
 and calm, even while full of the grand excitement of lib- 
 erty, I thought, " What would Charles V. or Philip 31. say 
 if they could come out of their coffins, and see a Spanish 
 Parliament speaking so freely ? " Thus it is that this peo- 
 ple are taking lessons in the difficult art of self-control, 
 and that one of the worst despotisms in Europe is being 
 transformed into a liberal and constitutional government. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CASTELAR. 
 
 In coming to Spain, the man of all men whom I most 
 desired to see was Don Emilio Castelar. He is the one 
 Spaniard whose name is a household word in America. 
 For twenty years he has been a great political figure in 
 Spain, where he has been from the beginning the apostle 
 of liberty. Such a man every American must be glad to 
 look in the face, and to take by the hand. 
 
 "When I was in Paris, Castelar was there, in a round of 
 festivities given by the political chiefs of France, who were 
 eager to do honor to one who was not only a leader in 
 Spain, but one of the Republican leaders of Europe. His 
 visit to Paris was brought to a close by the meeting of the 
 Cortes in Madrid. His friends were looking for him at 
 San Sebastian on the day we left, though he did not come 
 till the day after ; but when we got aboard of the train at 
 Burgos, he was in the sleeping-car, though we did not 
 know it till the next morning, when, in coming into the 
 station at Madrid, we observed a crowd collected as for a 
 political demonstration, the object of which appeared as 
 there stepped on the platform a short, stout man, who was 
 welcomed not in the French way, by a general kissing on 
 
118 HIS PERSONAL APPEARANCE. 
 
 botli cheeks, but in the more grave Spanish mode, by all 
 in turn placing the right arm over his shoulder, as if to 
 fold him to their breasts. 
 
 The next time I saw him was in the Cortes, sitting in 
 his seat, only rising now and then to move about the cham- 
 ber and speak to his brother deputies. The first look at 
 him was disappointing. He had not the physique of a 
 man of whom we would make a hero. According to our 
 idea of what should be, a commanding stature is the fit 
 embodiment of the exalted mind. When an orator stands 
 erect, he should show a majestic figure, like that of Chat- 
 ham or Gladstone or Henry Clay. But here was a man 
 rather undersized, thick-set, broad-shouldered, and broad- 
 chested, with neck and breast like a bull. This was not a 
 figure in which a man could pose, or strike attitudes; 
 but it is a physique for the hard work of a public speaker, 
 who, according to Cicero, should have robust sides (bona 
 latera). Such was the figure of Mirabeau, as it was in 
 later years of Gambetta. 
 
 Observing a little more closely (for, as I was in the dip- 
 lomatic box, which was almost directly over Castelar's seat, 
 I could literally look down upon him), I took the propor- 
 tions of his head, which is of very uncommon size, and 
 round, as if equally developed in every part, the top rising 
 like a dome over the massive substructure. Like many 
 of the Deputies around him, he is almost entirely bald. 
 He must have received the tonsure early, as only a fringe 
 (what the French would call a soupgon a suspicion) of 
 hair lingers on the back of his head. Seeing what a load 
 the body had to carry, it seemed well that it should rest 
 firmly on the shoulders ; that there might be the closest 
 possible connection between the vigorous body and the 
 capacious brain. 
 
 As I had a letter of introduction to Castelar from Mr. 
 
HTS HOME IN T MADRID. 119 
 
 Foster, our late Minister to Spain (in which he had said 
 some kind things of me, as his manner is), I sent it into 
 the Cortes with my card, and presently received a reply, 
 written in that sprawling hand which is familiar to all who 
 know the Spanish orator, saying that if I would give him 
 my address, he would call upon me ; or if I preferred to 
 come and see him, he would be at home at such a time to 
 receive me. As I did not care for the mere formality of 
 a call at a hotel, where we might be interrupted, I returned 
 answer that I would give myself the pleasure to call upon 
 him, where I hoped (and found) that I could have him all 
 to myself. 
 
 He lives in a pleasant part of the city (his address is 
 Serrano, No. 40). As he is not married, an elder sister 
 presides over his very simple domestic establishment. He 
 has a suite of rooms, handsomely though not luxuriantly 
 furnished. The walls are covered with pictures or with 
 plaques the gifts, I presume, for the aaost part, of admir- 
 ing friends : for I am told that he is quite without fortune, 
 a fact greatly to his honor, since he has had opportunities 
 of enriching himself, having once been President of the 
 Eepublic, with the whole power of the government in his 
 hands a temptation which not all Spanish statesmen would 
 be strong enough to resist. But he is inexorably honest. 
 No imputation upon his integrity has ever been made by 
 his bitterest enemies. For years he lived on his modest 
 salary as a Professor in the University, from which, I 
 believe, he still receives a pension. He gets something 
 also from his writings, and perhaps from his published 
 speeches. But this is all, as members of the Cortes receive 
 no pay ; so that his services to the State are rendered solely 
 from love to his country. 
 
 Presently he came rushing into the room, with both 
 hands extended to greet me, but evidently in fear lest we 
 
120 REPUBLICAN PRINCIPLES. 
 
 might have no means of communication : for he does not 
 speak a word of English, and as I do not speak a word of 
 Spanish, our conversation might have been very brief, or 
 only in the sign language, if we had been limited to the 
 two. Hence his first word, after his salutation, was " Vous 
 parlez Frangais ? " " Oui, Senor," was the reply. And so 
 we sat down on the sofa, and began our conversation. I 
 call it conversation, although it was nearly all on one side. 
 Mr. Foster had written to me that Castelar was a brilliant 
 talker as well as orator, and I was too eager for the intel- 
 lectual pleasure of hearing him, to allow myself to interrupt 
 the flow of what was so delightful. So with an occasional 
 inquiry to draw him on, I sat and listened. First, of 
 course, he asked about Mr. Foster, of whom he spoke, as 
 everybody does here in Madrid, very warmly ; from which 
 he launched out into a eulogy of America as " the great 
 New World," the world of liberty and of peace, with a 
 longing, as if to realize the dream of his life, that he might 
 yet set foot upon its blessed shores. 
 
 From the Republic on the other side of the ocean, it 
 was a natural transition to the Republic on this, of which 
 I wished to hear his opinion even more than to hear the 
 praises of my own country. Castelar is an out-and-out 
 Republican. His political principles he inherited from his 
 father, who was so pronounced a Liberal that he was sen- 
 tenced to death in those " good old times," half a century 
 ago, when it was a crime for a Spaniard to love his country 
 too well a fate which he escaped only by taking refuge 
 under the English flag at Gibraltar, where he spent seven 
 years. This attempted extinguishment of the father did 
 not moderate the zeal of the son, who brought to the sup- 
 port of the cause all the fire that was in his Southern blood 
 (he is a native of the South of Spain). "When he came to 
 Madrid as a student, he so distinguished himself that in a 
 
IS CONDEMNED TO DEATH. 121 
 
 concours for the post of Professor of History and Philoso- 
 phy in the University, he carried off the prize over all 
 competitors. He delivered also in the Athenaeum Club a 
 series of lectures on the History of Civilization, in which 
 his political sympathies were very manifest. Like many 
 other men who have afterwards taken part in public 
 affairs, he became a journalist, and in 1864 founded "La 
 Democracia," which after two years' existence was sup- 
 pressed, and Castelar, who was accused of being implicated 
 in an insurrection, was condemned to death, like his father 
 before him, and for the same crime that of too much 
 patriotism. But happily he escaped into Switzerland, 
 from which he made his way into France, where he 
 remained till the Kevolution of 1868 made it possible for 
 him to return to Spain. Here he became at once a politi- 
 cal leader ; was one of the founders of the Republic, and 
 was for a few months its President. Now the Republic is 
 gone, but he stands fast by his old political faith, not 
 changing because the government of his choice is a thing 
 of the past, and he is living under a monarchy. 
 
 "And so you still believe that the Republic will come 
 in Spain ? " I asked doubtingly. I can still hear his ring- 
 ing voice as he answered " Oui, oui, oui ! " with an air 
 and tone as if he would put to scorn the doubts and fears 
 of all wretched unbelievers. But then, having avowed the 
 prime article of his political faith, he proceeded to explain. 
 He is a Republican : a Republic is to him the ideal form 
 of government, to which all nations must gravitate as they 
 become more civilized and enlightened, and capable of 
 governing themselves. This opinion he does not hold 
 privately disclosing it only to his friends under pledge 
 of secrecy ; but avows it in his speeches in the Cortes, 
 and defends it in the press, and thus proclaims it before 
 all the world. 
 
122 " THE REPUBLIC BY EVOLUTION." 
 
 But and here begin his reserves and explanations 
 while he is a Republican, he is not a Revolutionist, plot- 
 ting secretly in dark rooms with low-browed conspirators, 
 and sending secret agents to the barracks of soldiers to 
 stir them up to mutiny. Against all this he sets his face. 
 In this he differs from some of the Republican leaders, 
 who accuse him of want of spirit, and almost of cowardice, 
 because he is not ready to march into the streets, and take 
 the chances of an armed insurrection. But as he has been 
 a student and a teacher of history, he knows that victories 
 so won are as quickly lost. His theory of political action 
 he sums up in one word : " The Republic, not by revolu- 
 tion, but by evolution ! " 
 
 "But this," I said, "is a slow process." 
 
 " Yes, it is slow, but sure." 
 
 " How will you prepare Spain for it ? " 
 
 "Educate the people, and then give them universal 
 suffrage, and let them decide for themselves." 
 
 "But would not the same reasoning apply to other 
 countries ? " 
 
 Again the loud, cheery voice answering "Oui, oui, 
 oui ! " and he burst out anew with " The Republic is com- 
 ing, not only in Spain, but in all Europe." In France it 
 had come already ; it would come in Germany yes, and 
 in Russia also. Napoleon had predicted that Europe 
 would be Republican or Cossack. Which it would be, 
 would be settled when the Cossacks themselves were 
 Republicans. 
 
 Such were in brief the points of a long and animated 
 conversation, in which he did all the talking. After listen- 
 ing for an hour, I rose, and he said " Now you will come 
 and dine with me on such an evening," to which I willingly 
 consented ; and then, as it was the hour for the Cortes to 
 meet, he accompanied me on my way. As we walked 
 
AT HIS OWN TABLE. 123 
 
 along the street, he stopped every few minutes, as some 
 new idea came into his head, to be delivered of it then 
 and there. It must have been a comical sight to passers- 
 by to see Castelar standing in the middle of the sidewalk, 
 mailing a speech to a solitary listener ! Of course I enjoyed 
 it immensely. He would have carried me off with him to 
 the Cortes, but as there was no debate of special interest, 
 I went on to the Museum, to calm my excited mind in the 
 picture galleries. What a change as I passed along the 
 great halls lined with paintings of Titian and Murillo and 
 Velasquez! Here was Charles V. on horseback, as he 
 appeared at the battle of Muhlberg (I had seen the same 
 figure in the Armory, clad in the very coat-of-mail that he 
 wore on that terrible day), and I could not but think how 
 he would turn in his coffin to hear such revolutionary 
 sentiments in the very streets of his capital. And here 
 was Philip II., the bigot and the tyrant, as cold and sour 
 as when he cursed his unhappy kingdom with his presence. 
 Now he is dead and buried, and they keep him safe in his 
 leaden coffin in the crypt of the Escorial. But in that 
 hollow chamber underground, I hope he sometimes hears 
 the rumbling overhead, the tramping of innumerable 
 feet, which tells him that the descendants of the people 
 whom he ruled with an iron hand, are on the march to 
 liberty. 
 
 A few evenings after this, I was again at Castelar's to 
 dinner. He likes to entertain his friends, but does it in a 
 very simple way. His household is very small. Though 
 his sister is much older than himself, he is extremely 
 attached to her, as he well may be, since she is his only 
 near relative, for he has no other sister and no brother ; 
 so that they are all in all to each other. As I was the only 
 foreigner present in a company of Spaniards, he seemed 
 to recognize me, with the instinctive courtesy of his coun- 
 
124 HIS CONVERSATION. 
 
 trymen, as the guest of the evening, and asked me to take 
 his sister out to dinner. I was very happy to be seated 
 by this sweet Spanish lady, though our conversation was 
 but limited, as she spoke neither English nor French. 
 But there is a language without words, the language of 
 courtesy (which no people understand better than Span- 
 iards), which almost supplies the want of speech. With 
 the same consideration for what might be agreeable to me, 
 he had placed at my right a member of the Cortes, 'who 
 had lived in England and spoke English weH, with whom 
 I could enjoy little "asides," when others were conversing 
 in Spanish. Two or three young ladies, with half a dozen 
 political friends, completed the group that gathered round 
 the table. As I sat opposite Castelar, he directed a large 
 part of his conversation to me, speaking in French. It 
 took a wide range. For the time we almost forgot that 
 we were in Spain, as he talked of other countries and peo- 
 ples : of America, on which he is always eloquent ; or of 
 France and Italy countries so like Spain in some respects, 
 and so different in others. And when the conversation 
 came back to Spain, it touched on almost everything 
 Spanish except politics, which was thrown into the back- 
 ground, while he talked of books and men, of paintings 
 and cathedrals. "With just Spanish pride, he turned back 
 to the great age of his country's literature, the age of Cer- 
 vantes (which was also the age of Shakespeare in England 
 Shakespeare and Cervantes died on the same day), for whom 
 he has an unbounded admiration. He thought Don Quix- 
 ote was read more than the Bible, which I could well 
 believe to be the case in Spain, where I fear the Bible is 
 read but very little. In Cervantes as in Shakespeare, the 
 chief element of power was of course the universal 
 humanity : that the fiction, like the drama, held the 
 mirror up to nature, so that man everywhere recognized 
 
OF BOOKS AND PICTURES. 125 
 
 in it to some degree the reflection of himself. But Don 
 Quixote was more than this : it was not only a faithful 
 picture of human nature, but of Spanish nature, with 
 graphic delineations, not only of Spanish life and manners, 
 but of Spanish character. There were a thousand points 
 which would be perceived by no one so quickly as a Span- 
 iard, in which Cervantes hits off with a touch that is 
 inimitable the old Castilian pride surviving every humilia- 
 tion, and other Spanish traits, exaggerated of course, as is 
 the license of the romancer, but still having the foundation 
 in real character and life. And those traits still survive. 
 The originals are gone, but the types remain. This very 
 day, in the streets of Madrid and of Seville, may be seen 
 figures that with a little touch of the artist would answer 
 for Don Quixote himself and his faithful man-at-arms, 
 Sancho Panza. 
 
 Turning from books to pictures, Castelar talked fondly 
 of the Spanish school of painters, especially of Murillo, 
 who seemed at once to touch divinity and humanity in his 
 Madonnas soaring to heaven, and his beggars sitting on 
 the ground, covered with rags, but looking up at you with 
 those great Spanish eyes that after two centuries have not 
 lost their fascination. 
 
 But Spaniard as he is, he does not approve all Spanish 
 ways and customs. I touched him on the subject of bull- 
 fights, and I might as well have touched a bull with a 
 spear, for he hates the very word. That which to Spaniards 
 generally is the most exciting of sports, is to him so brutal, 
 so unworthy of a civilized people, that he has no words to 
 express his indignation and disgust. " There are three 
 things in Spain," he said, " which I detest the wine, the 
 bull-fights, and the pronunciamentos " ! 
 
 Perhaps nothing takes hold of the imagination of Cas- 
 telar so much as the Spanish cathedrals. He is not a man 
 
126 SPANISH VIVACITY. 
 
 given to religious emotion (though his sister is a devout 
 Catholic), but there is something in the architecture of 
 those great piles, in the lofty columns and soaring arches, 
 through which float the vesper hymns at the evening hour 
 when the sunset streams through the stained-glass windows, 
 which, touches all the poetry of his nature ; and to hear 
 him describe them is almost worth a visit to Spain. 
 
 But much as I enjoyed this, I could not be so selfish as 
 to engross his conversation, while his Spanish friends (who 
 could not speak French, or spoke it but indifferently) were 
 silent ; so dropping into a side-talk in English with my 
 neighbor- at-table, I had the pleasure of seeing Castelar 
 turn to his countrymen, and at once perceived that, how- 
 ever agreeable he could be in French, he was at his best 
 only in his native tongue. Then he spoke with a rapidity 
 which it was quite impossible for a stranger to follow. At 
 such times it was a study to watch the play of his counte- 
 nance, which changed every moment, its expression varying 
 with every subject and every mood. Nor was it in his face 
 alone that the intense vitality of the man showed itself, 
 but in every muscle of his body. He shrugged his 
 shoulders, and arched his eyebrows, with a comical ex- 
 pression of humor or contempt, at which all present burst 
 into a laugh, in which he joined, as merry a boy as ever 
 felt the warm Spanish blood dancing in his veins. 
 Observing this, I whispered to my neighbor : " Senor 
 Castelar talks not only with his lips, but with his eyes and 
 with every feature." " What is that ? " he said, hearing 
 his name. I repeated the remark, to which he answered 
 smiling : "Yes, one must make use of everything." 
 
 But delightful as Castelar is at home in his library, 
 discoursing of his favorite books, or at his table, in tlie 
 unrestrained freedom of his familiar talk- it is as an orator 
 that he is above all other men ; and to see him in his glory, 
 
A BRILLIANT SCENE. 127 
 
 one must see him and hear him in the Cortes. For this 
 we were now in expectation : for it had been whispered 
 for some days in Madrid that he was preparing to speak 
 on the state of the country a subject which just then, in 
 consequence of the recent insurrection, was agitating the 
 public mind. 
 
 When the evening came, the Chamber presented a 
 brilliant scene, for there was gathered an assembly such 
 as might fire the breast of any orator. As in England the 
 Lords will often forsake their own House, and rush to the 
 Commons to hear Gladstone, so to-night the two Houses 
 of the Spanish Parliament seemed joined in one : Senators 
 left the "Senado," and crowded into the seats and aisles of 
 the "Congreso," to hear the Great Commoner of Spain. 
 Not only was every seat filled, but every standing-place, 
 while the galleries were crowded with all that was most 
 distinguished in the society of Madrid " fair women and 
 brave men." There was a large number of high officers of 
 the army, as the late insurrection had raised the question 
 of the loyalty of the troops, while between their glittering 
 uniforms sat duchesses and countesses, all of course with 
 the inevitable Spanish mantilla, and fan in hand, more 
 coquettish even than the half-drawn veil, as it now hides 
 the dark eyes, and now is suddenly withdrawn that they 
 may flash forth with new splendor. These are the bright 
 eyes which " rain sweet influences " on the nights of high 
 debate. Such an array as shone in those galleries might 
 quicken the coldest temperament : how must it thrill the 
 warm Southern blood of the Spanish orator ! In such a 
 press it was not easy to find a single point of vantage to 
 watch the scene. Castelar had given me a ticket to a pri- 
 vate box reserved for his friends. But how could I plant 
 myself there, where not only Spanish grandees, but ladies, 
 were crowding, to whom my American politeness would 
 
128 THE OPENING WORD. 
 
 constrain me at once to resign my seat ? Accordingly I 
 retreated to my old place in the diplomatic box, from 
 which (though not quite so good as the other) I could 
 look down on the whole dramatic spectacle. 
 
 The Spanish Cortes, like other deliberative bodies, is 
 slow in getting in motion. There was routine business to 
 be despatched, and there were other speakers to be heard, 
 to whom the Cortes listened, if not w r ith marked interest 
 at that moment (for all were eager for the great sensation 
 of the evening), yet with attention and respect. This con- 
 tinued for several hours. While the slow debate dragged 
 on, it was a study to watch Castelar, who was restless as a 
 caged lion, moving about in his seat, taking up his hat 
 and going out into the lobby, walking up and down, and 
 then coming back again. It is said that at such moments 
 lie seems to himself to have forgotten what he had pre- 
 pared, and to be in despair lest his attempt should end in 
 utter failure. At length the other speakers had done, the 
 deck was cleared, and there was a hush as the President 
 in a low voice, but which was heard to the end of the 
 Chamber, announced " Senor Castelar ! " Instantly there 
 was an eager movement of interest and attention. Sena- 
 tors and ex-members who had the privilege of the floor, 
 pressed in in greater numbers. While they were crowding 
 in, Castelar rose and stood for a few moments silent, with 
 his hands clasped an attitude that is peculiar to him. 
 The throng in the galleries leaned over in breathless 
 expectation, listening for the first word. Soon it came : 
 " Senores ! " That was all, but that was enough : for with 
 the sound of his own voice, every trace of nervousness 
 disappeared ; he was master of himself, and once sure of 
 that, he was master of his audience. He did not begin 
 with a rush, but very deliberately, as if he were still the 
 Professor in the University, unfolding the principles of 
 
RAPIDITY OF SPEECH. 129 
 
 the Philosophy of History. His voice was low and sweet, 
 to which you listened as to a strain of music. As the fire 
 kindled within him, his voice rose. The words came faster 
 and faster, till the stream "became a torrent, and the breeze 
 swelled to the roar of a tempest. Then his gestures 
 answered to his voice. His hands were unclasped, and 
 his right arm extended, quivering as with electricity, his 
 finger pointing wherever he would that the lightning 
 should strike. At times he used a gesture which I had 
 never seen in any other speaker : he would clasp his 
 hands, or even double his fists, and raise them above his 
 head, and then throw them violently before him, as if he 
 had taken a red-hot ball out of his fiery brain to dash it in 
 the face of his enemies ! Such a burst generally ended 
 with a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder, at which 
 he stopped exhausted, and turned to take a glass of water, 
 while the great assembly drew a long breath, and prepared 
 to have the onset renewed. 
 
 From this it must not be inferred that Castelar deals 
 in personalities in an offensive way. On the contrary, he 
 is a model of courtesy. It is said that he never attacks 
 anybody with violence and bitterness. However much he 
 may differ from his political opponents, his exposure of 
 their principles is not coupled with taunts and sneers, that 
 would rankle in their memories, and make them his per- 
 sonal enemies. If he sometimes turns to an old friend, 
 who has gone over to the other side, it is not with a sharp 
 spear, but with a gentle touch of humor or wit. In the 
 previous debate Gen. Lopez Dominguez had led the attack 
 on the government, even going so far as to say that the 
 troops that had taken part in the late insurrection had been 
 provoked to it because certain reforms which he had pro- 
 posed when Minister of War had not been carried out! 
 Now Castelar, Republican as he is, is not ready for 
 
130 VINDICATING HIS OWN POSITION. 
 
 armed insurrection, and so without giving offence, lie took 
 down a little the formidable appearance of this man of 
 war, as he turned round to him (they were both sitting on 
 the Eepublican side of the Chamber), and gently reminded 
 him that he owed his rank in the army to Castelar himself, 
 who, when President of the Republic, gave him his com- 
 mand. A man is not apt to stand in awe of his own 
 creations! This quiet hit was greatly enjoyed by the 
 Cortes, which had been a good deal stirred by the domi- 
 neering attitude of this military assailant. 
 
 Again the General in his fierce attack had pronounced 
 the doom of the Ministry. He had said that, when he 
 returned to Madrid after the insurrection, "everybody" 
 whom he met had declared the government "dead"! 
 "Indeed!" said Castelar ; "and yet I see before me Senor 
 Sagasta still living, and apparently in excellent health " a 
 sally which provoked mingled laughter and applause from 
 all sides of the Chamber. 
 
 But the main object of Castelar's speech was to vin- 
 dicate his own position in the very mixed condition 
 of Spanish politics and parties. That position was 
 unique, as he agreed fully neither with the one side nor 
 the other. In fact, he stood almost alone, and had to 
 defend himself against friends as well as foes. To justify 
 the course of the Spanish Liberals, he reviewed the history 
 of the country since the wars of Napoleon changed the 
 face of Europe, and showed how, while other nations had 
 been making progress, Spain had been isolated. Cut off 
 by the Pyrenees from the rest of the Continent, she was 
 still more cut off by her own stagnation. The only hope 
 for her was to rouse her out of this lethargy, and bring 
 her by slow degrees from a state of " semi- Asiatic des- 
 potism " to the enjoyment of "a free and constitutional 
 government." The struggle for this had been long, and 
 
DEFENCE OF THE REPUBLIC. 131 
 
 the end seemed often doubtful. Members of the Cortes 
 could recall the time when there was a reign of terror in 
 the streets of Madrid ; when the most patriotic men in 
 Spain, if suspected of Liberal opinions, were in danger of 
 arrest, of imprisonment, or worse. Not twenty years had 
 passed since Senor Sagasta, to whom he pointed sitting on 
 the Ministerial bench, as the head of the government ; and 
 Senor Martos, the President of the Cortes ; and himself 
 were under sentence of death ! This lurid picture of a 
 despotism so lately overthrown, showed that Spain, in 
 spite of all obstacles, had made great progress towards 
 liberty. 
 
 After the Revolution there had been several experi- 
 ments of government, one of which was the Republic, to 
 which it was the fashion of the day to refer in terms of 
 disparagement as an ignominious failure. They should 
 remember, however, that it had been surrounded by great 
 difficulties, foes without and foes within : the Carlist war 
 raging in the North, and treason and rebellion conspiring 
 in the capital. But in spite of all, it had left a record of 
 patriotic devotion to the interests of the country, of which 
 he was not ashamed. 
 
 This open defence of the Republic was very significant, 
 as it showed how far liberty of thought and of speech had 
 advanced in Spain ; that it was greater in Madrid than in 
 most of the capitals of Europe. What member of the 
 German Parliament, even if he were in heart a Socialist 
 or a Communist, would dare to stand up in the presence 
 of Bismarck, and advocate the Republic ? Yet here in old 
 monarchical Spain there is a party, and a very large party, 
 that openly declare their belief in the Republic as not only 
 the ideal government, but the coming government, and 
 that its appearance is only a question of time. 
 
 After Castelar had thus vindicated his position as 
 
132 OPPOSED TO INSURRECTION. 
 
 towards the monarchists, he had another task which, if 
 not more difficult, must have been to him personally more 
 disagreeable, to vindicate it from the reproach of the Re- 
 publicans. He who makes a study of Spanish politics will 
 soon find that there is a great number of parties, which 
 are almost hopelessly divided. There is not only a Repub- 
 lican party, but half a dozen such parties. Some of these 
 openly advocate insurrection as the readiest means and, 
 as they think, the only means to inaugurate the Republic. 
 Against these Castelar is utterly opposed. Ungracious as 
 it might seem to part from those who had stood by him in 
 the conflicts of a former day, yet he could not sacrifice his 
 convictions of duty even at the call of friendship. As far 
 as political action could accomplish the object, he was 
 willing to go ; but when it came to armed insurrection, 
 with all it might include of misery to the country, he 
 shrank from the abyss. 
 
 Some of the more ardent Republicans had taunted him 
 with being "behind the age," because he was not as rash 
 and reckless as they! Alas! he must confess he was 
 growing old ! It was a new experience for him, who had 
 been not long ago denounced as the leader of the Radicals, 
 now to be reproached as too conservative and reactionary ! 
 By-and-by these youthful champions of the Republic would 
 leave him far behind, and look upon him as little more 
 than an Egyptian mummy ! 
 
 I observed that these retorts were more enjoyed on 
 the other side of the Chamber than on his own, and that 
 the Monarchists cheered loudly, while the Republicans 
 were silent. Yet Castelar is not one to taunt his political 
 friends, even though he may suffer from their unjust 
 imputations. To differ from them was evidently a matter 
 of pain. He regretted deeply to be separated from his 
 old companions-in-arms. But painful as it was, he must 
 
THE SECRET OF HIS POWER. 133 
 
 be true to his convictions of what was for the good of his 
 country. "What it needed was not revolution, but stability 
 of some kind order, industry, and peace. And so he 
 concluded : "Above all political differences ; above all 
 parties ; above the mere form of government, whether it 
 shall be a Monarchy or a Eepublic I prize the peace and 
 tranquillity of my beloved Spain ! " 
 
 Such were a few of the points of a speech which lasted 
 for hours. Indeed it was not ended that day (the strain 
 was too great for one sitting), but concluded only on the 
 following afternoon, when, as before, he touched, as it 
 were, every note in the scale of human feeling, moving his 
 hearers at win to laughter or to tears ; but above all 
 minor emotions, inspiring in them a lofty political enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
 The effect of such eloquence it is impossible to de- 
 scribe. If we were to take this speech merely as we find 
 it reported in the journals of the Cortes, and undertake to 
 analyze it, we might find it difficult to explain the secret 
 of its power : for while it was brilliant from beginning to 
 end, full of poetry and imagination, its power was not in 
 these alone ; nor yet in its force of argument, or its patri- 
 otic appeals ; but in all combined, and fused together by 
 the heat that glowed in his own breast. It was the man be- 
 hind the words that gave them their effect : it was a human 
 finger that touched us, as well as a human voice that thrilled 
 us. The impression of course could not be fully appreciated 
 by a stranger. I could follow it but imperfectly, from my 
 ignorance of the language ; and yet, as the Spanish is 
 largely derived from the Latin, I could understand half 
 the words, so that I could keep the run of the speech, 
 even if I had not had (as I did) Mr. Stroebel at my side, 
 to whisper the points the speaker was making ; added to 
 which was the best possible commentary in the looks of 
 
134 LAST INTERVIEW. 
 
 the audience. Taken altogether, it was as great an intel- 
 lectual treat as I have ever enjoyed as great, I believe, as 
 can be enjoyed in any country in this generation. 
 
 Once more I went to see Castelar, when I was no longer 
 a stranger, but I may almost say a friend. Again we sat 
 on the same sofa, and again did his eyes look straight into 
 mine ; and as he warmed with the conversation, he kept 
 unconsciously moving his seat closer to me till he took 
 hold of both the lapels of my coat and shook them 
 violently, as if by this personal contact he would infuse 
 a little of his Spanish fire into my cold American breast. 
 It must have been cold indeed if it did not catch some 
 warmth from such magnetism. My heart was all aglow 
 as I looked at him, and remembered that this was the 
 man, so full of life and of all the impulses of a generous 
 nature, who had once been condemned to death ! Thank 
 God he " still lives," and Spain lives and will not die ! 
 
 I had found afc Laurent's, in Madrid, a photograph 
 which it was said that Castelar preferred to any other 
 that had been taken of him, and it occurred to me that it 
 would have an additional value if it had his autograph, 
 which he not only gave, but added such kind words for 
 his "amigo," and for the Great Republic from which I 
 came, as made it still more precious ; and then, as I rose 
 to leave, he put his arm round me in the gentle Spanish 
 way, that seemed to say that he should always think of me 
 as a friend. 
 
 Such interviews, with such a parting, naturally left a 
 very warm feeling in my heart. But some have said to 
 me that, with all his eloquence, he is not to be relied on, 
 for that he is so carried away by his imagination, and so 
 ambitious of oratorical effect, that he cannot resist the 
 temptation of saying a brilliant thing even though it be 
 at the sacrifice of sound reasoning, or even of historical 
 
ADMINISTRATIVE ABILITY. 135 
 
 truth. " He is an orator," they say, " but nothing more 
 a mere rhetorician, a poet, a dreamer, but with no prac- 
 tical wisdom for public affairs." But it was not thus that 
 Senor Moret, the Secretary of State (in the only interview 
 which I had with him), spoke of Castelar. Though himself, 
 as a Monarchist, of the opposite party, he represented his 
 great antagonist as a man, not only of strong political 
 convictions, but of real administrative ability. Castelar 
 was his old teacher at the University, and I thought there 
 was a certain tenderness in the way the pupil spoke of one 
 who had been his master. Salmeron, he thought, was 
 more of a doctrinaire a man of theories ; but Castelar, he 
 said, had shown a high degree of political wisdom, notably 
 in the affair of the ship Virginius, which was taken off the 
 island of Cuba, with her decks crowded with American 
 filibusters, some of whom were shot, an affair which caused 
 great excitement at the time in the United States (Sickles, 
 our Minister at Madrid, was ready to demand his pass- 
 ports), and might have involved us in a war with Spain 
 but for the prompt action of Castelar, who was then Pres- 
 ident, and who instantly disavowed the act of the Spanish 
 commander, and ordered full reparation. This decided 
 action at a critical moment, Moret thought, showed a 
 degree of sagacity, together with a courage and firmness 
 (for every one of his Ministers was against him), which 
 entitled him to an honorable place among the political 
 leaders of Spain. 
 
 "An orator ! Only an orator ! " Even if it were so, yet 
 " every man hath his proper gift of God," and one of the 
 greatest is that of stirring men to high enthusiasms and 
 resolves by patriotic sentiments, uttered with a mighty 
 voice, and with that fervid imagination which captivates a 
 people. He deserves well of his country who, gifted with 
 an eloquence little short of inspiration, has never used it 
 
136 " ONE THAT LOVES HIS FELLOW-MEN." 
 
 but in the cause of liberty. Nor has he desired it for his 
 country only, but has been just as ardent for the abolition 
 of slavery in the Spanish colonies, in Cuba and in Porto 
 Kico, as for liberty at home. He has been the advocate of 
 the cause of the enslaved and the oppressed of every 
 country and clime. Thus he has proved himself a lover of 
 his race, of whom it may be said as truly as of Ben Adhem : 
 
 "Write him as one that loves his fellow-men." 
 
 And so I give my hand and praise to the illustrious Span- 
 iard whose great heart beats in unison with the heart of 
 humanity, and whose voice is always the voice of liberty. 
 
CHAPTEK X. 
 THE DECADENCE OF SPAIN. 
 
 "Whoever wishes to be well acquainted with the morbid 
 anatomy of governments ; whoever wishes to know how great 
 States may be made feeble and wretched ; should study the his- 
 tory of Spain." MACAULAY. 
 
 Gibbon begins his History of the Decline and Fall of 
 the Roman Empire with one of his majestic sentences, 
 which seems to strike the keynote of the grand yet melan- 
 choly tale which he has to tell : " In the second century of 
 the Christian era the Empire of Rome comprehended the 
 fairest part of the earth, and the most civilized portion of 
 mankind." Since the fall of the Roman Empire no power 
 on earth has attained, we might almost say aspired, to 
 universal dominion ; but of the States of Europe, none 
 has come nearer to it than Spain in the sixteenth century. 
 " The Empire of Philip the Second," says Macaulay, " was 
 undoubtedly one of the most powerful and splendid that 
 ever existed in the world. ... It is no exaggeration to say 
 that during several years his power over Europe was 
 greater than even that of Napoleon. ... In America his 
 dominions extended on both sides of the Equator into the 
 
138 SPAIN IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 temperate zone. There is reason to believe tliat his annual- 
 revenue amounted, in the season of his greatest power, to 
 a sum ten times as large as that which England yielded to 
 Elizabeth. He had a standing army of fifty thousand 
 excellent troops, when England had not a single battalion 
 in constant pay. . . . He held, what no other prince in 
 modern times has held, the dominion both of the land and 
 of the sea. During the greater part of his reign, he was 
 supreme on both elements. His soldiers marched up to 
 the capital of France ; his ships menaced the shores of 
 England. . . . Spain had what Napoleon desired in vain 
 ships, colonies, and commerce. She long monopolized the 
 trade of America and of the Indian Ocean. All the gold 
 of the "West and all the spices of the East, were received 
 and distributed by her. Even after the defeat of the 
 Armada, English statesmen continued to look with great 
 dread on the maritime power of Philip." * 
 
 How that which was the first power in Europe in the 
 sixteenth century lost its preeminence ; how from the 
 highest position it sank to the lowest, till that which had 
 been the greatest became the meanest of kingdoms ; is a 
 study in history which is full of interest and instruction. 
 Perhaps its very greatness was one cause of its fall : 
 States, like individuals, sometimes grow dizzy when ele- 
 vated to too great a height, from which they are 
 precipitated to their ruin. The moment of the culmina- 
 tion of a great power may be the moment at which its 
 decline begins ; the seeds of its growth may prove also 
 the seeds of its decay. The discovery of America, which 
 came in the very same year with the expulsion of the 
 Moors, completed the glory of the reign of Ferdinand 
 and Isabella, as it extended their dominion to another 
 hemisphere ; but it had its dangers also. It awakened a 
 * Review of Lord Mahon's "War of the Spanish Succession. 
 
THE OLD LIBERTIES OF SPAIN. 139 
 
 spirit of enterprise that sent Spanish ships on voyages of 
 discovery over all the seas and oceans of the world, which 
 brought back riches to swell the national pride. But this 
 very influx of gold was a doubtful good, for while it added 
 to the magnificence of princes, it introduced a luxury 
 which, too long indulged, saps the vigor of the most 
 stalwart races. The mines of Mexico and Peru, which 
 enriched the grandees of Spain, did not in the same 
 degree add to the permanent wealth of the country or its 
 military power. 
 
 But a still greater calamity was the destruction of the 
 old liberties of Spain ; for in its earlier and better days 
 the air of freedom blew fresh and strong over the Spanish 
 mountains. There is a common impression that Spain is 
 so thoroughly monarchical, and so used to a strong gov- 
 ernment, that she rather likes it, preferring an iron rule 
 to greater liberty. That this impression is not just, is 
 proved by many tragic and many pathetic incidents in 
 her eventful history. 
 
 At the dinner at Senor Castelar's, I was expressing to 
 a member of the Cortes my surprise at the bold spirit 
 shown in the debates to which I had listened. He an- 
 swered (smiling a little at my discovery) that this ardor 
 for liberty was no new thing here, but a legacy from 
 former centuries ; that Spain was free before England 
 was ; that a hundred and fifty years before the Revolution 
 of 1688 (of which English historians make so much, as if 
 it were the very birth of liberty), the same spirit showed 
 itself here ; in proof of which he related the following 
 passage in Spanish history, which, as it was new to me, 
 may be new to others : that when Charles V. summoned a 
 Parliament to meet at Valladolid to vote fresh supplies for 
 his wars in Germany, the city of Toledo sent two dele- 
 gates, giving them positive and explicit instructions NOT 
 
140 THE BURGHERS OF TOLEDO. 
 
 to comply with the royal demand, saying " "What do we 
 care about the Emperor's wars in Germany? They are 
 nothing to us. Have we not paid enough already ? We 
 will pay no more." Thus instructed, the delegates de- 
 parted, but when they reached Valladolid, and found 
 themselves within the atmosphere of a court, subdued 
 perhaps by flatteries, or by more substantial means of 
 persuasion, they voted for the supplies which they had 
 been instructed to oppose. Having performed this act 
 of servility, they returned to give an account of their 
 stewardship. But the bold burghers of Toledo were not 
 to be appeased by lame excuses, and without more ado 
 took these unfaithful servants and hanged them at the gates 
 of the city ! 
 
 Nor was this a solitary instance of resistance to royal 
 power. Centuries before the time of Charles V., the 
 Spaniards were noted for their sturdy independence. The 
 people of one kingdom for a long time would not accept 
 a king without conditions. "Law first and kings after- 
 wards!" was the proud device of Aragon. From time 
 immemorial they had enjoyed certain rights of local 
 government, called fueros, which they stubbornly refused 
 to yield ; and when they took a king, they made their 
 allegiance, such as it was, in this rather brusque and 
 uncourtly fashion : " We, every one of whom is as good 
 as you, and who all together are a great deal better than 
 you, make you our king so long as you shall keep our 
 fueros : OTHERWISE NOT." 
 
 Such was the inheritance of liberty which the Span- 
 iards received three centuries ago. But their spirits were 
 broken by a system of oppression the most cruel that ever 
 crushed the life out of any people. That very Charles V., 
 who had been supported so loyally by his people in all his 
 foreign wars, was the great instrument of their subjuga- 
 
THE INQUISITION. 141 
 
 tion, putting down the Communeros, the advocates of 
 municipal rights, and beheading their leader, Padilla, 
 with two of his compatriots. The fate of this hero of 
 Spanish liberty was very much like that of Lord Russell 
 in the Tower of London. Like Russell, Padilla had a wife 
 of the same heroic mould, to whom he wrote on the eve 
 of his execution a letter full of devotion to her and to his 
 country, to keep up her courage in that awful hour.* The 
 story is one of the most pathetic episodes of Spanish history. 
 
 For two long reigns that of Charles V. and Philip II. 
 the great object of the government seemed to be to kill 
 the national life. Of course that was not its professed 
 object, which was simply the extirpation of heresy ; but the 
 means were so disproportioned to the end ; the instru- 
 ment employed was so wide in its sweep, and so merciless 
 in its operation ; that it cut down good and bad alike, or 
 rather far more of the good than of the bad ; and if it 
 could have been carried out to the full extent that is, if 
 human strength had not failed in the bloody work it 
 would in time have not only extirpated heresy, but extir- 
 pated half the Spanish people ; and if carried out equally 
 in other countries, would have extirpated a large part of 
 the human race. That instrument was the Inquisition ! 
 
 Terrible as this instrumentality was, it was deemed nec- 
 essary to uphold the power of Rome. The Protestant Ref- 
 ormation, that had swept over half of Europe, had crossed 
 the Pyrenees, and appeared in different cities of Spain. 
 It must be stamped out at any cost. The laws of the 
 country were insufficient, even when supported with the 
 utmost rigor by the civil tribunals. To strike terror into 
 the hearts of all who were wavering in the faith, some- 
 thing must be devised, more quick to see and more prompt 
 
 * The letter is given in Prescott's edition of Robertson's 
 History of Charles V., Vol. II., p. 32. 
 
142 ESTABLISHED BY QUEEN" ISABELLA. 
 
 to execute ; and this was found in a new Tribunal, wholly 
 independent of the civil power ; which should serve as a 
 spiritual police, watching with its hundred eyes every city 
 and town in Spain ; nay, every village, even to the smallest 
 hamlet in the mountains ; and striking here, there, and 
 everywhere, with such sudden strokes, cutting down the 
 tallest heads, as gave the impression of a mysterious, in- 
 visible, and yet everywhere present and irresistible power. 
 
 When the idea of the Inquisition was first conceived, 
 probably no one dreamed how terrible an agency it was to 
 become ; else surely it could not have been born in any 
 heart in which lingered a spark of human feeling, of pity 
 or mercy ; least of all could it have owed its existence in 
 Spain to a woman, and not to a Catherine de Medicis, but 
 to the gentlest and sweetest of her sex, the good Queen 
 Isabella, the friend and patron of Columbus. This seems 
 the strangest of mysteries, and yet it is not so when we 
 consider that the gentle Queen, who would have turned 
 away her face from the sight of any act of cruelty, was 
 completely under the power of her spiritual advisers ; and 
 when her confessor held up before her the crucifix, the 
 emblem of that Cross on which her Saviour died, and 
 asked if she would shrink from a duty to her Lord, what 
 could she do poor, troubled, trembling soul ! but sink 
 down in passive submission to a will stronger than her own ? 
 
 No sooner was authority obtained for the establishment 
 of the Inquisition in Spain, than it began to take propor- 
 tions in keeping with the tremendous work it was to per- 
 form. " Palaces " were erected for it in all the large cities : 
 for such was the name they bore, though they might have 
 been called castles as well, their huge stone walls and 
 barred windows giving them a fortress-like character, that 
 often recalled the Bridge of Sighs in Venice, with 
 "A palace and a prison on each hand." 
 
TRIALS BY TORTURE. 143 
 
 These palace-prisons were intended to be a visible sign to 
 all beholders that the Holy Office was not a myth, but a 
 present and terrible reality. If any were so thoughtless 
 as to imagine otherwise, they were quickly undeceived : 
 for their senses soon apprised them that there was some- 
 thing in the air ; it was as if a pestilence were abroad, 
 which might well hush the mirth of the gay Spanish popu- 
 lation. Men spoke with bated breath, lest a whisper might 
 furnish a pretext for an accusation. No man was safe even 
 in his own house, for a spy might be in his bed-chamber. 
 Even while playing with his children, listening to their 
 innocent prattle, the servant that swept his room might be 
 listening for some unguarded word that could be reported ; 
 and at midnight, while sleeping the sleep of innocence and 
 peace, he might be awakened by " the mutes," those terri- 
 ble officials who deigned him not a word, while they took 
 him from the bosom of his family, never to return. Once 
 that he passed the door of the Inquisition, he knew that 
 there was no escape. Over the gloomy portal might be 
 written, as over the gates of hell, 
 
 "Abandon hope, all ye who enter here ! " 
 
 He was thrown into a dungeon without the slightest inti- 
 mation of what he was arrested for, or by whom he was 
 accused. Here he was left for weeks or months to break 
 his spirit, and then brought before a bench of cowled 
 monks, " a court organized to convict," who were eager, 
 not to ascertain the truth, but to make him commit him- 
 self. If questions failed, the instruments of torture were 
 ready, and as-his emaciated form was stretched upon the 
 rack, which wrenched and tore his body, some faint word 
 might drop from his quivering lips that could be inter- 
 preted as a confession, upon which he was immediately 
 judged to be guilty, and the Inquisitors, with holy horror 
 at the enormity of his crime (!), condemned him to death. 
 
144 THE AUTO-DA-FE. 
 
 It adds to the ghastly grimness of this horrible scene, 
 that these accusers and condemners of the innocent would 
 not execute their own sentences. They, the holy men, 
 could not shed blood (!), but having given over to death 
 men who were a thousand times better than themselves, 
 passed them over to the civil power for execution. This 
 formal delivery of its victims was the Auto-da-Fe, which 
 had in it so many of the elements of horror, in the cruel- 
 ties inflicted upon helpless innocence, upon men with hoary 
 hair, and even upon women and children, that it had a 
 fascination for those who delighted in blood ; and so it was 
 made a public spectacle, that was exhibited in the presence 
 of the Court, and of the Foreign Ambassadors, who were 
 invited to witness it (as they would be now to a bull-fight), 
 and of an enormous crowd of spectators. 
 
 "When an Auto-da-Fe was " given " in Madrid (for the 
 writers of that day speak of it as they would of a theatri- 
 cal exhibition), the scene of the performance was in the 
 Plaza Major a square not far from the Puerta del Sol. 
 I have been to it many times : for there is no spot in the 
 capital so full of mournful suggestions. Here, sitting on a 
 balcony in front of the royal residence, the King and Queen 
 and attendants on the Court looked down on the long pro- 
 cession of victims (dressed in garments on which were 
 figures of devils tossing them into the flames) who had 
 appeared before the Tribunal of the Inquisition ; and 
 having gone through the form of a trial, and been con- 
 demned, were now delivered over to the civil power to be 
 burned. This formality having bean gone through with, the 
 procession was again set in motion, and led out of the city 
 to the place of death, where they were bound to the stake. 
 
 Such scenes of horror, recorded in history, were to 
 come up after more than two centuries as a powerful argu- 
 ment for Liberty. A few years since there was an am- 
 
ASHES OF THE QUEMADERO. 145 
 
 mated discussion in the Cortes on the subject of religious 
 toleration a step in advance which was opposed by the 
 old Spanish Conservatives when a Deputy aroee (it was 
 Senor Don Jose Echegargy, former Minister of Finance), 
 who touched another chord by the mention of the follow- 
 ing simple incident. He said that, in taking his walk that 
 morning in the outskirts of the city, he had come to a 
 place where workmen were making excavations in the 
 street. As they struck their spades into the earth, they 
 uncovered the surrounding soil, which, as it was exposed 
 to view, appeared to be composed of several distinct 
 layers. A closer inspection disclosed the fact that one of 
 these was of ashes, in which here and there were fragments 
 of human bones ! A little farther from the centre, where 
 the dying flames had spared some vestiges of humanity, 
 had been discovered a ring that may have once graced a 
 woman's finger ; and farther still, a lock of hair ! These 
 slight remains told the story of three hundred years ago. 
 This was the famous Quemadero, the burning-place for 
 the victims of the Autos-da-Fe ; and these ashes, these 
 charred bones, the maiden's ring, the lock of hair, recalled 
 one of the most awful of human tragedies, when on this 
 spot manhood and womanhood, the husband and wife, 
 blooming youth and hoary age, the father and daughter, 
 clasped in a last embrace, perished together! Such a 
 resurrection of the dead was more powerful than any argu- 
 ment. Spanish bigotry might remain stubborn against 
 the voices of the living, but was silent in presence of 
 those whose unburied ashes were but just uncovered to the 
 light of day. The picture was a plea, more eloquent than 
 words, for that religious toleration which should make 
 such scenes impossible forevermore. 
 
 But for the time that the Inquisitors were at work, no 
 thought of the indignation of future ages troubled them : 
 
146 CHARLES Y. A PERSECUTOR. 
 
 they were too eager in the pursuit of blood, too mad 
 with rage to kill and to destroy. Even Charles V. was 
 so carried away with the fanaticism of the age that he was 
 as full of zeal for destruction as any Dominican monk who 
 sat in the secret tribunal of the Inquisition. Yet tyrant as 
 he was, he was in some respects not only the most power- 
 ful, but truly the greatest, monarch of his time. He was 
 not only King of Spain, but Emperor of Germany ; and 
 thus living in different countries, mingling with different 
 peoples, and speaking different languages, one would think 
 he must have learned something of the wisdom, if not of 
 the virtue, of toleration. But such was his Spanish bigotry, 
 that all lessons were lost upon him. Luther stood before 
 him at the Diet of Worms, but he sat unmoved by that 
 magnificent plea for conscience and for liberty. Indeed 
 ihc grew colder and harder to that degree that he became 
 almost ashamed of his moderation, and even touched that 
 lowest moral state in which he repented of his virtues, 
 regretting that he had not broken his pledge of safe-con- 
 duct to Luther, and burned him at the stake ! Even age 
 did not subdue him to a gentler mood. Once indeed it is 
 said that a grain of sense penetrated his narrow brain. 
 When he retired to the Convent of Yuste to pass the last 
 year of his life, he amused himself with studying the 
 mechanism of clocks ; but finding that he could not make 
 them work as he wished, he confessed his folly, in that he 
 had been all his life trying to make men think alike and 
 believe alike, when he could not even make two clocks 
 keep time together ! But this was a transient impression. 
 Worn out with the labors of his life, and under the bond- 
 age of his narrow creed, his mind sank back into the old 
 groove, and he remained a persecutor to the last ; and on 
 his death-bed charged Philip to cherish the Holy Inquisi- 
 tion, and extirpate heresy from Spain ! 
 
HOW MANY SUFFERED DEATH. 147 
 
 Philip bettered the instructions. His heart was cold, 
 and his temper hard and unrelenting. Entrusted with un- 
 limited power, he would have nothing stand in the way of 
 his imperious wilL So impassive was he that it is said he 
 never smiled but once, and that was when he heard of the 
 Massacre of St. Bartholomew, at which he laughed out- 
 right ! So fierce was his intolerance that it is told of him, 
 that once when he sat watching an Auto-da-Fe, one of the 
 condemned, who had been a faithful and loyal subject, 
 cried out to him against the injustice and cruelty of his 
 fate, to which the King made reply : " If thou wert mine 
 own son, I would bring the fagots to kindle the flames for 
 such a wretch as thou art ! " 
 
 This work of destruction went on for the more than 
 forty years that Philip reigned, through which he contin- 
 ued obdurate and cruel to the last, with the natural effect 
 upon his unhappy country. True, Spain in the time of 
 Charles V. and Philip II. was so powerful that she could 
 stand a great deal ; but continued wars abroad, with such 
 defeats as that of the Spanish Armada, combined with this 
 constant blood-letting at home, made a drain upon her 
 vital forces that began to tell, and with this commenced 
 her slow but sure decline. 
 
 The deadly effect of the Inquisition was not meas- 
 ured solely by the number of those who perished a 
 point on which I have found it difficult to obtain pre- 
 cise information. One who is well read in Spanish his- 
 tory, gives me his opinion that from the establishment 
 of the Inquisition to the end, there perished (of Chris- 
 tians, not including Jews or Moors) not less than half a 
 million of persons ! This seems incredible, but whether 
 there were more or fewer, still more important than the 
 number was the character of the victims, for these men and 
 women who thus marched to the stake, showed by that 
 
148 THE REIGN OF TERROR. 
 
 very act their own sincerity and integrity, in that they 
 were too honest to profess what they did not, and could 
 not, believe. They were the excellent of the earth good 
 fathers and mothers, good husbands and wives, good sons 
 and daughters, good brothers and sisters. In sacrificing 
 them, Spain sacrificed the very best portion of her whole 
 population, that which she could least afford to lose. 
 
 But the evil did not end here. These frequent Autos- 
 da-Fe had an effect far beyond the immediate circle of 
 the condemned. The whole population was stricken with 
 terror : men hardly dared to speak, unless it were to pro- 
 claim aloud their allegiance to the Church. Those who 
 were skeptical at heart, assumed an appearance of zeal 
 lest they should be suspected and dragged before a secret 
 tribunal where they should find no mercy. And so the 
 nation was given up to the most demoralizing of all 
 passions, cruelty and fear, in which its whole life stood 
 still ; its very heart ceased to beat. 
 
 This reign of terror, which began with Philip (in whose 
 time the power of Spain culminated), continued through 
 his successors a long line of kings, of whom it were hard 
 to say if one were better than the other, the only difference 
 seeming to be in degrees of badness. No matter who 
 reigned, whether one of the House of Austria, or of the 
 House of Bourbon, all were alike incapable or tyrannical, 
 the ready victims of intriguing priests, the tools of the 
 worst of men and the worst of women. But all " cherished 
 the Holy Inquisition" as much as Philip, and with the 
 same result, that the life-blood of the nation slowly oozed 
 away, till Spain fell back from the first place in Europe to 
 the second, and the third, and fourth, and lower still, as 
 'the decadence continued almost without interruption for 
 two hundred years those gloomy centuries in which the 
 Holy Office had full sweep to do its appointed work. And 
 
OPIXIOX OF MONTALEMBERT. 149 
 
 it did it thoroughly : it killed Protestantism, but it killed 
 Spain also. The grand old Spain that had been, was 
 drowned in the blood of her children. 
 
 That this is not merely a Protestant opinion, could be 
 shown by numerous quotations from Catholic historians. 
 I will give but one authority, but that is the highest 
 Count Montalembert, one of the most illustrious Eoman 
 Catholics of our age ; who belonged to one of those old 
 French families in which religion is a tradition, and was 
 all his life long one of the most pronounced, as he was 
 one of the ablest, of the defenders of that Church, alike 
 in the Parliament and the press. In an article entitled 
 "L'Espagne et la Liberte," in which he sums up the 
 result of his prolonged studies of Spanish history, he says : 
 
 "Le jour ou, dans T ordre politique, la royaute, avec 
 1'aide de 1'inquisition, a tout absorbe, tout ecrase ; le jour 
 ou 1' Eglise victorieuse a voulu abuser de la victoire ; 
 excluro et proscrire, d' abord les Juifs, puis les Maures, 
 puis les Protestants ; puis toute discussion, tout examen, 
 toute recherche, toute initiative, toute liberte ; ce jour-l& 
 tout a ete perdu," * 
 
 "The article of Montalembert from which this extract is 
 taken, has a curious history. It was the last work of his life, 
 and was left in manuscript to bo published after his death, but 
 his timid friends wished to suppress it. He had however given 
 it to Father Hyacinthe, with written authority to make use of 
 it, who, being at that time (in 1876) in Geneva, caused it to be 
 published in La Bibliotheque Universelle et Revue Suisse at Lau- 
 sanne. But so incensed were the family at its appearance, that 
 they instituted a civil process against him and against the 
 publisher ; and the French tribunal gave a verdict against them 
 for an unauthorized publication, although there was no attempt 
 to deny that this elaborate paper on " Spain and Liberty " was 
 the writing of Montalembert, and expressed the deliberate opin- 
 ion of that distinguished man. 
 
150 KILLING THE NATIONAL LIFE. 
 
 " Tout a ete perdu ! " That tells the whole story. The 
 despotism which killed liberty, killed the national life. 
 True, the life of a nation is longer than that of an indi- 
 vidual, and it takes longer for it to perish. Rome was for 
 centuries in the agonies of dissolution ; and it took Spain 
 many generations to waste its imperial power. But the 
 process, if slow, was constant, and the end was inevitable. 
 No nation can truly live which is not free. The sense of 
 freedom is the native air of all the qualities which make 
 a country powerful courage in war and splendid activity 
 in peace, in great enterprises on land and sea. But the 
 boa-constrictor of despotism, when it coils itself round a 
 nation, crushes everything in its mighty folds. Thus one 
 element after another of vitality was destroyed, till it might 
 almost be said that Spain rested from dissolution only when 
 there was nothing more to die. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE RESURRECTION" OF SPAIN A REVOLUTION- 
 FOUR EXPERIMENTS OF GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Out of death comes life. The darkest hour is just 
 before the dawn. Two centuries had passed since Philip 
 H. was borne to his grave centuries of shame and igno- 
 miny and Spain was at its very lowest, when the morning 
 broke of the nineteenth century, and found Europe agi- 
 tated with revolutions. The ancient monarchy of France 
 had disappeared, and the Republic, established at home, 
 had crossed the Alps, and was carrying everything before 
 it by the marvellous campaigns of the young Napoleon in 
 Italy. But Spain was far away in another direction, where 
 she was undisturbed by all these commotions. Her time 
 was not to come until the Great Captain, victorious beyond 
 the Rhine, and seeking another world to conquer, crossed 
 the Pyrenees. He had his own scheme to carry out, in 
 which Spain was to be a kind of Annex to France. To 
 this scheme the King of Spain and his infamous Queen 
 and her lover (who was the real power behind the throne) 
 lent themselves, not reluctantly, but eagerly. The King, 
 so far from being ashamed of the part he was called to 
 play, that of betraying his country, seemed more of the 
 
152 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 temper of the Irish patriot who was accused of selling his 
 country, and who, instead of repelling the accusation, only 
 replied that " he thanked God that he had a country to 
 sell"! 
 
 Happily the people of Spain were not so degraded as 
 their rulers, and out of this very infamy came a reaction. 
 The French were masters of Madrid, and put down a 
 rising without mercy, Murat having the leaders shot in 
 one of the public squares. But that set the popular heart 
 on fire. The victims of 1808 are the martyrs of Spanish 
 liberty. Over the place of their execution now rises a 
 monument to their memory, and the 2d of May, the day 
 on which they perished, is a day of national celebration, 
 in which the people march in procession to lay garlands 
 on the tomb of those who died for their country. 
 
 Then came the War of Independence, in which the 
 Spaniards from the mountains to the sea rose against the 
 French, and aided, or rather led, by the English under 
 Wellington, drove them across the Pyrenees, and Spain at 
 last was free from the foreign invader. 
 
 But with the r establishment of their own government 
 came back the old royal house true Bourbons, "who 
 learn nothing and forget nothing," having learned no 
 wisdom from adversity, and preserving only the memory 
 of their old hatreds, which they were once more in a 
 position to gratify. The reign of Ferdinand VII. is a 
 dreary period in Spanish history a long monotony of 
 government without reason or justice or liberty, which 
 once provoked a popular demonstration, the leaders of 
 which were induced to surrender by a promise of amnesty, 
 and were then promptly executed. Those who came after 
 them, however, have done justice to their memory, and 
 their names are now inscribed in honor on a monument 
 erected in one of the squares of Malaga. 
 
THE SALIC LAW. 153 
 
 But let us give thanks that kings too must die, and at 
 last Ferdinand VII. drew near his end. Yet even then he 
 could not depart out of the world without leaving the 
 seeds of future wars behind him. The Salic law, by which 
 none but a male child could succeed to the throne, had 
 long existed in France, but not in Spain. But when 
 Philip V., the grandson of Louis XIV., and the first of 
 the Spanish Bourbons, came to the throne, he naturally 
 thought that what was good for his native country was 
 good for his adopted one, and introduced it into Spain. 
 But Charles IV., looking out (as kings are apt to do) for 
 who should come after him, was troubled that his only son, 
 Ferdinand VII., was sickly, and would probably have no 
 descendant ; and fearing that the succession might go 
 where he would not have it, set it aside by a royal decree 
 (the Pragmatic Sanction is the grand name by which it is 
 called) in the Parliament of 1789, which restored the old 
 law of the kingdom ; but this was to be kept secret till it 
 should suit the pleasure of the King to make it public. 
 In fact, it was not made known till more than forty years 
 after, in 1830, when Ferdinand VII. published it just be- 
 fore the birth of Isabella. But two years later, when he 
 appeared to be dying, another fit took him, and he issued 
 a second decree by which he abolished the first ! How- 
 ever, there was an end to this shuffling : for a strong- 
 minded woman appeared on the scene, in the person of 
 the Infanta Carlotta of Naples, sister of the Queen, who 
 prevailed upon the old King to recall his last act, using the 
 most decided means of persuasion in fact, taking the de- 
 cree in her own hands, and tearing it in pieces ; whereby 
 was reestablished the old Spanish rule of succession, by 
 which a royal daughter could inherit the throne of her 
 father ; and thus it was that the little Isabella became 
 Queen of Spain. 
 
154 QUEEN ISABELLA. 
 
 This was all very well for her, and for her mother, who 
 was made Regent during her childhood ; "but how was it 
 for the nephew of the late King, Don Carlos, who was thus 
 shut out of his royal inheritance ? He immediately took 
 up arms. Out of this question of succession rose the two 
 Carlist wars (the last of which ended only ten years ago), 
 which drained to the utmost the resources of the kingdom, 
 causing an enormous waste of treasure and of blood. 
 
 At length the little Isabella grew up to womanhood, 
 and at the age of eighteen took the place of her mother, 
 the Eegent, and became Queen of Spain. The first feeling 
 which greeted her was one of sincere and even enthusias- 
 tic loyalty, as appeared from the fact that though she be- 
 came Queen in 1848, the year in which Louis Philippe was 
 overthrown, and a wave of revolution swept over Europe, 
 it did not pass the Pyrenees. 
 
 And what sort of a Queen did Isabella prove ? I like 
 to say all the good I can of a woman. Edward Everett 
 Hale, in his charming volume, " Seven Cities of Spain," 
 speaks of her as " Isabella the Bad." But why should she 
 not be bad ? She had everything against her bad blood, 
 bad education, and worst of all, a bad marriage, in which 
 she was sacrificed to certain political designs, and forced 
 to marry a man whom she loathed. After that, in the cor- 
 rupt surroundings of the Spanish Court, we can scarcely 
 be surprised that her manner of life became the scandal 
 of Madrid and of all Europe. 
 
 While such was her personal conduct, of course she 
 left her government in the hands of her Ministers, who 
 wielded almost absolute power. Sometimes there was a 
 muttering of popular indignation, and perhaps a feeble 
 attempt at insurrection ; but it was crushed with a severity 
 that served as an effectual warning to those who would 
 repeat the attempt. In 1866 an emeute took place in the 
 
THE VIGOR OF MILITARY RULE. 155 
 
 barracks, somewhat like the late one in Madrid. At that 
 time the Prime Minister was Marshal O'Donnell, whose 
 Irish name indicates his Irish descent. His grandfather 
 was one of the sons of Erin, who, belonging to Catholic 
 families, did not care to fight for a Protestant king against 
 those of their own religion, and so came over to the Con- 
 tinent and formed the famous Irish Brigade, which did 
 such service at Fontenoy and in many wars. This old 
 Marshal had a truly Irish vigor of procedure in dealing 
 with insubordination, and as this military outbreak had 
 been led by the sergeants, so that it was called the Ser- 
 geants' Rebellion, he, like the fine old Irish soldier that he 
 was, accustomed to deal with things in a military way, 
 picked out forty-seven of these sub-officers, and had them 
 marched out of the city, and drawn up in line with their 
 backs to a wall, and shot to the last man. If Castelar had 
 been caught at that time, and Sagasta, and Martos, and 
 Prim, they would all have shared the same fate. After 
 this display of vigor, O'Donnell resigned the reins of 
 power to Narvaez, whose extreme mildness was illus- 
 trated even on his death-bed, when his confessor asked 
 him "if he forgave his enemies," to which the old man 
 naively replied that "he did not think there were any 
 left"; that "he thought he had finished them all"! Of 
 course he received absolution and extreme unction, and 
 died in the odor of sanctity, and is buried in the Church 
 of the Atocha, the church of the royal family, where kings 
 and queens and princes go every Saturday to pray before 
 a shrine of the Virgin. 
 
 With such men in power, and handing it down from 
 one to another in an unbroken succession of hard masters, 
 it is not strange that outside of the official class there was 
 universal discontent. Those who wished for better things 
 had ceased to hope for anything from Queen Isabella, who 
 
156 THE FxEYOLUTION. 
 
 was completely under the control of the priests and a little 
 cabal at the Palace. There were good men in Spain, and 
 wise men, but what did ali their wisdom and goodness 
 amount to when it did not have a feather's weight as 
 against a vile favorite who was always at her side, and 
 whispering evil into her ear? Then it was that men 
 began to take courage from despair. Even those who had 
 remained loyal, had come to the conclusion that there was 
 only one hope for the country, and that was in revolution. 
 Such was the feeling of the bluff old Admiral Topete, who 
 had command of the Spanish fleet in the harbor of Cadiz. 
 By a secret concert, two other actors suddenly appeared 
 on the scene : Marshal Serrano, who had been banished to 
 the Canary Islands, and Marshal Prim, who was in exile in 
 England, and came from there to Gibraltar, from which it 
 is but a few hours to Cadiz. Thus on the 18th of Sep- 
 tember, 18G8, Serrano, Prim, and Topete met on the deck 
 of the flag-ship Saragossa in the harbor of Cadiz, from 
 which they issued the proclamation of liberty. The fleet 
 immediately took up the cry of its Admiral, in which it 
 was soon followed by the garrison of Cadiz, and next by 
 the garrison of Seville. Here was the nucleus of an army, 
 which as it increased in numbers, moved northward, as 
 the troops of Isabella, under the lead of General Pavia, 
 the Marquis de Novaliches, moved southward, till ten days 
 after the first proclamation, September 28, the two armies 
 met nine miles above Cordova, at the Bridge of Alcolea, 
 which has become historical as one of the turning points 
 of Spanish history. The fight was a desperate one, for on 
 it hung the fate of a throne. But the end of the day saw 
 the troops of the revolution victorious, and the royal army 
 in full flight. 
 
 Queen Isabella was at the time taking her Summer va- 
 cation on the seashore at San Sebastian, where she was at- 
 
A PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT. 157 
 
 tended by her Prime Minister, Gonzalez Bravo, who assur- 
 ed her from day to day that the rebels would soon be an- 
 nihilated ! It was therefore a thunderstroke when he came 
 with a despatch in his hand announcing that the royal 
 army had been utterly defeated, and that the Queen could 
 not return to Madrid ! At that moment Isabella showed 
 that she had a little of the spirit that became the daughter 
 of kings, as she answered proudly " If I were a man, I 
 would go to my capital ! " Alas for her ; she was not a 
 man, and being but a woman, she was compelled to submit 
 to the stern necessity of the case, and to be conducted, 
 politely indeed, but not less firmly, in spite of her tears 
 and sobs, to the frontier, from whence she was to take 
 refuge under the protection of the Emperor of France. 
 
 The Revolution was complete. The Queen was safe in 
 Paris, where her late subjects were quite willing that she 
 should remain ; and those who had driven her from her 
 capital, were installed in her place. So far so good. But 
 their difficulties were not ended : indeed in one sense 
 they were only begun. They had got the power, but what 
 should they do with it ? It is easier to fight a battle than to 
 organize a government. In this perplexity, the Cortes, 
 which was the only body remaining that had any au- 
 thority, did what is so often done in like cases : it 
 established a Provisional Government not a monarchy, 
 which was to last for generations ; nor yet a Republic, 
 which was to be continued by successive expressions of 
 the popular will ; but an executive which was merely to 
 tide the country over its present embarrassment, to keep 
 it from drifting into anarchy, and to prepare a foundation 
 for something more stable hereafter. It was therefore 
 decided to set up a Triumvirate, and who so fit to compose 
 it as the men who had made the Revolution? And so 
 Prim, Serrano, and Topete were invested with the execu- 
 
158 AMADEUS ELECTED KING. 
 
 tive power, and held it for two years. But none knew 
 better th0n they that this state of things could not con- 
 tinue. The nation wanted something that was not pro- 
 visional, but permanent, and so they began to look round 
 the horizon of Europe to see where they could find one of 
 royal blood of whom to make a king. At first they turned 
 to a scion of the House of Hohenzollern, by which the. 
 throne of Spain would be allied with that of Germany ; 
 but this aroused the jealousy of France to such a degree 
 as finally to lead to the Franco-German War. Failing in 
 the North, they turned to the South, and fixed their choice 
 on a son of Victor Emmanuel, Prince Amadeus, brother of 
 the present King of Italy. He belonged to a Latin race, 
 was of the ancient House of Savoy, and was a Catholic 
 three qualifications which answered to the wants of the 
 Spanish people. And so he was offered and accepted 
 the crown, and a ship of war was sent to bring him to 
 Spain. 
 
 In all this business of king-making, it was Marshal 
 Prim who was the Warwick, the king-maker, and now he 
 was proud and happy that his work was done. But before 
 the new sovereign landed at Barcelona, occurred an event 
 which sent a thrill of horror throughout the country. One 
 evening, as Marshal Prim came out of the Cortes, he step- 
 ped into his carriage to drive to the Ministry of War. As 
 he was passing through a narrow street, the Calle del 
 Turco, which runs into that great artery of Madrid, the 
 Calle Alcala, a cab was standing by the sidewalk, and just 
 then, as if by accident, another came from the opposite 
 direction, so that the two blocked the street and brought 
 him to a stand-still, when in an instant men stepped from 
 behind the one that was standing, and fired through the 
 window of his carriage. How many shots there were, is 
 not known, but certainly more than one or two, for I 
 
ASSASSINATION OF MARSHAL PRIM. 159 
 
 counted three holes, and was uncertain about a fourth, in 
 the wall on the other side of the street, where the balls 
 struck No face of the assassins showed itself in the dark- 
 ness, though it was said that voices were heard, asking 
 "Do you recognize us? Have we not kept our word?" 
 But they escaped, and the closest investigation, continued 
 for months, could not clear up the mystery, and to this 
 day " Who killed Marshal Prim ? " is a problem which no 
 man can resolve.* Though mortally wounded, he did not 
 die instantly, but was carried to the Ministry of War, 
 where he lingered for a day or two, and met his fate with 
 the same courage which he had shown on the battle-field, 
 finding consolation even in death in the thought that the 
 end which he had sought to bring about, had been 
 accomplished. He said "I die, but the king is coming.'* 
 The king came indeed, but filled with horror at the 
 terrible tragedy which shocked him as it shocked the 
 country ; and when he reached Madrid, he drove from 
 the station directly to the Church of the Atocha, to look 
 for the last time upon the face of his friend, who 
 
 " Lay like a warrior taking his rest." 
 
 In that church he now sleeps beneath a monument of 
 bronze, near the tomb of Marshal Narvaez, who if he could 
 but have caught the young Gen. Prim a few years before, 
 would have put a still earlier end to his brilliant career. 
 
 * While these sheets are passing through the press, a friend 
 long resident in Madrid writes to me that the mystery of Prim's 
 death might be removed, if there were not men high in posi- 
 tion and influence who have an interest to conceal it. He even 
 goes so far as to designate the guilty parties, and to say that 
 Prim was assassinated by the Red Republican, Paul Angulo, with 
 the knowledge and by the instigation of Marshal Serrano, Prim's 
 colleague, then Regent, who was afraid that Prim would have 
 more power than himself in the new government. 
 
160 AMADEUS LEAVES THE COUNTKY. 
 
 This was a sad beginning for the new reign. It cast a 
 shadow over both prince and people. Yet in spite of all, 
 the young king bore up bravely, and endeavored to do his 
 duty to those who had called him to a position of such 
 power and responsibility. He began very modestly, prom- 
 ising little, but endeavoring much. He took no airs ; he 
 made no boasts and no rash promises ; but went to work, 
 like the simple, straightforward gentleman that he was, to 
 fulfil his exalted trust. His course was marked by manli- 
 ness and good sense. But his best efforts could not suc- 
 ceed, because they encountered the prejudice against a 
 foreign King, which is so strong in Spain. This jealousy 
 obstructed his every movement. The high circles of 
 Madrid kept aloof. Ladies of rank were unwilling to 
 take places in the palace to give dignity to his court. It 
 became the fashion to speak of him as "the inoffensive 
 Italian." The Spaniards disliked him for his very virtues, 
 his modesty and simplicity, for they had been accustomed 
 to more of royal state. Even his Ministers seemed to take 
 a pleasure in thwarting his plans for the public good. 
 Against this he struggled as best he could, but it was all 
 in vain, and at last, after two years of faithful effort, he 
 gave it up as hopeless, and one fine morning he and his 
 queen took their seats in the railway train for Lisbon, and 
 in a few hours crossed the frontier of Portugal, and Spain 
 saw them no more. 
 
 This failure of the attempt to make a king out of a for- 
 eign prince, was received with exultation by the partisans 
 of Isabella, who took it to mean that Spain would have no 
 other than one of her own family to sit upon the throne ; 
 and the ex-Queen was in hopes of being recalled (when 
 she would pose as one who had learned wisdom by experi- 
 ence), but the country had not forgotten what she had 
 proved herself before, and had no wish for her return. 
 
A SPANISH REPUBLIC. 161 
 
 On the other hand, there was a strong Republican 
 party that reasoned thus : " Monarchy has been tried and 
 found wanting. Now let us have a chance to try a more 
 popular form of government." And so the experiment 
 was made, while Europe looted on in wonder to behold 
 that political miracle a Republic in Spain ! Though its 
 life was not long, it had no less than three Presidents. 
 But somehow it did not work : the machinery was too 
 new ; the wheels were not oiled so as to run smoothly. 
 Everything was against it. Civil war was raging in the 
 North. Don Carlos had roused the Basque Provinces, 
 and had the priests everywhere stirring up the peasants 
 in his favor. The position was one that called for the 
 coolest and wisest heads to guide the ship of State 
 through the breakers ; but the Republican leaders, it 
 must be confessed, however patriotic, were not the most 
 skilful managers. Salmeron and Castelar, who were Pres- 
 idents in turn, were both Professors in the University, and 
 however learned they may have been in political economy, 
 they were not the men to deal with a great crisis, aggra- 
 vated by civil war. The enemies of Castelar say that, 
 though an eloquent orator, he was a signal failure as a 
 President. No doubt he made grave mistakes, some from 
 his very excess of generosity ; as when he gave General 
 Pavia command of the troops in Madrid, who afterwards 
 marched them into the Cortes and fired guns over the 
 heads of the deputies, who made their escape through 
 doors and windows ; as Bonaparte had marched his grena- 
 diers into the Chamber at St. Cloud and dispersed the 
 Constituent Assembly. So fell the French Directory, and 
 so fell the Spanish Republic. 
 
 Then came another interval of provisional government, 
 with Marshal Serrano as Regent. The old soldier seemed 
 to like being the occupant of the palace very well, and 
 
162 THE ARMY DECLARES FOR ALFONSO. 
 
 Madame la Duchesse liked it still better, and it suited all 
 the officials around him ; but it did not suit the army in 
 the field, which was fighting against the Carlists in the 
 North ; and which, as it was fighting to put down a Pre- 
 tender to the throne, preferred to set up a real King, and 
 declared for Alfonso, the son of Isabella. 
 
 This new movement on the chess-board of politics and 
 war, of course excited the indignation of Serrano, who 
 promptly telegraphed to the army that its leader, General 
 Martinez Campos, should be shot ! But in Spain these 
 things go by contraries, and instead of the troops shoot- 
 ing their commander, Serrano found Madrid too hot to 
 hold him, and fled from the Palace to the English Embassy 
 for protection, and soon after got out of the country. He 
 came back afterwards, but was never again in power. And 
 so Alfonso, though not elected by the Cortes, but simply 
 proclaimed by the army, became the King of Spain. 
 
 Why both army and people turned to him, it is easy to 
 see. As the experiment of a Eepublic had failed, it was 
 now the turn of Monarchy again. Spain must have a king. 
 But where should they find him ? Who should he be ? 
 Not a foreigner like Amadeus ; nor even a Spanish prince 
 like Don Carlos, who had been waging such cruel war in 
 the heart of his country. There was absolutely no one to 
 choose except the young Alfonso, who had left Spain when 
 a boy with his royal mother, and had had the advantage of 
 a few years of exile, in which to learn something of foreign 
 ideas, and of foreign laws and liberties. 
 
 As this young prince was to figure as the King of Spain 
 for many years, we wish to know something about him. My 
 information I have from one who has had the best oppor- 
 tunity to know him. Count Morphy, now private secretary 
 of the Queen Begent, was secretary of the late King, with 
 whom he lived in the closest relations far twenty years. 
 
CHARACTER OF THE YOUNG KING. 163 
 
 He tells me that he was with Alfonso from the time that he 
 was seven years old ; that he continued with him through 
 his education at Vienna and elsewhere, and that he was a 
 young man far above the common ; that even as a boy he 
 surprised his teachers by his intelligence ; that he was 
 quick of apprehension, and of such open, frank, and en- 
 gaging manners, as made him popular with his compan- 
 ions at school and in the University : that he was a favorite 
 of the Emperor William, who took special notice of him 
 at the German watering-places ; and in short, that he had 
 every attribute to attract friendship and respect. This 
 high estimate might be set down to the account of per- 
 sonal regard, were it not that it is confirmed from other 
 sources. Certainly the young prince showed a sense 
 above his years in his answer to those who came to offer 
 him the crown, for instead of receiving it proudly as his 
 due, and intimating that he had but " come to his own 
 again," he gave them to understand that his acceptance 
 was but an experiment, and that if they got tired of him, 
 they need not take the trouble to send him away, for he 
 was ready to go ; and that in fact, to use his own words, 
 "he was the first Republican in Europe." 
 
 With such frank declarations he came. Fortune 
 favored him from the start. The government had long 
 been preparing a grand movement of the army against 
 Don Carlos, which now took place, and made a speedy end 
 of the Pretender, and left Alfonso with an undisputed title 
 to the throne. Victory in the field created popularity in 
 the capital. The nation was weary of war, and longed for 
 peace. It was tired of revolutions, and welcomed a gov- 
 ernment which seemed likely to be permanent. Under 
 such favoring auspices Alfonso mounted, with the light 
 step of a boy (he was still but seventeen), to the throne of 
 Spain, on which he continued till his death, a period of 
 
164 THE REACTION. 
 
 eleven years years of peace and prosperity. Such is 
 the judgment of many who in their political convictions 
 still remain Republicans, but who frankly confess that, 
 " considering that he was a Bourbon," and so young, he 
 did not only fairly well, but far better than could have 
 been expected, and that his death was a national calamity. 
 
 At the same time all Spanish liberals agree that the 
 reestablishment of the Monarchy was a reaction against the 
 more liberal policy of Amadeus and of the Republic. One 
 of the signs of this reaction was in the relaxation towards 
 the religious orders. There was a time when the Jesuits 
 were expelled from almost every country in Europe, and 
 different monastic orders were suppressed, and their enor- 
 mous wealth confiscated to the State. In Spain a very 
 vigorous policy had been adopted towards them as long 
 ago as 1835 a policy which was enforced under the Re- 
 public, but on the return of a King the orders began 
 to creep back again, at first very quietly, but afterwards 
 more openly, until now hundreds and thousands of monks 
 who have been expelled from France and from Italy, find 
 a secure resting-place this side the Pyrenees. 
 
 But while the accession of Alfonso was a triumph of the 
 Clerical party, it was not of the Ultramontane party, which 
 was represented by Don Carlos. This party the government 
 wished to conciliate, and for that purpose went to the ex- 
 treme of concessions, while professing to be itself " free and 
 constitutional." The worst of these was in the matter of 
 civil marriages. Under the old regime, the Church, which 
 was the power behind the throne, kept its hand on every- 
 thing in a man's life, from the hour that he was born, to 
 the hour that he breathed his last including birth and 
 baptism, bridal and burial. A man could hardly come 
 into the world without permission of the Church, at least 
 he could not be baptized and registered, and so recognized 
 
ABOLITION OF CIVIL MARRIAGES. 165 
 
 as having a legitimate existence : and when his life was 
 ended, without the same permission he could not be 
 buried in consecrated ground. Midway between birth 
 and death stood the great act of marriage, on which the 
 whole of life turned, and which the Church wished also to 
 keep under its rigid control. None but priests could cele- 
 brate marriages, and whoever came to one of them for that 
 rite was questioned if he had been to confession ; and if 
 not, the priest refused to perform the ceremony. 
 
 This was a sore grievance to those who were not 
 within the pale of the Catholic Church. Protestants, for 
 example, preferred to be married by their own pastors, or 
 by the civil magistrate. This was one of the first rights 
 to be recognized under a liberal government, and accord- 
 ingly it was enacted in Spain, as it had been long before 
 in France and Italy, that a civil marriage that is, a mar- 
 riage before the mayor of a city, or a civil magistrate 
 was valid before the law, all the children of which should 
 be as legitimate as if the rite had been performed, with the 
 utmost pomp and ceremony, at the altar of a Cathedral, 
 and blessed by priest or bishop. Under this law Protest- 
 ants were married in Spain with no more restrictions than 
 they would find in France or in America. 
 
 Such was the law when Alfonso came to the throne a 
 law which it would seem as if the government hardly 
 dared to ask the Cortes to repeal, lest it should raise a 
 storm round its head, but which the King revoked by a 
 royal decree ! And this was done, not under the ministry 
 of some obstinate old Conservative, but of Canovas, one of 
 the first statesmen of Spain, who, I am told by those who 
 know him, in his heart despises the extreme pretensions of 
 the clerical party, but finding it a necessity to have their 
 support, threw overboard civil marriage as a huge sop to 
 the Cerberus of Spanish politics. 
 
166 A CRUEL DECREE. 
 
 It may have been statesmanlike, but it was very cruel, 
 as it attacked the family in its most tender point its 
 honor : for not only was it a decree for the future, but 
 one which cast a deep shadow over the past, as it was 
 made retroactive in its operation, declaring marriages 
 that had already been made to be invalid, and branding 
 the offspring of such marriages as illegitimate ! Thus it 
 broke into the sanctuary of home, and affixed a stigma of 
 degradation on innocent children. 
 
 The liberals, of course, were at once alive to the dreadful 
 shame of such a decree, as they saw its operation in hun- 
 dreds of happy homes, and made their indignant protests 
 against it, but without result. It is not easy to do right 
 after doing a wrong ; nor to undo that which has been 
 already done ; and it would have been an awkward confes- 
 sion of error for a King to have to revoke his own revo- 
 cation ! And so this royal decree, harsh and unjust and 
 cruel as it was, was left to stand to the end of his reign, 
 and was bequeathed as a sad legacy to his widowed Queen. 
 
 But when Alfonso was dead and buried, and Canovas, 
 as Prime Minister, had given way to Sagasta, the head of 
 the Liberal party, the voice of the Protestants was heard 
 again throughout the kingdom, demanding the restoration 
 of the law respecting civil marriages a claim that was one 
 of legal right as well as natural justice. In a country which 
 professes to be free, all men, whether Protestants or Cath- 
 olics, stand on the same ground, and so long as they are 
 quiet and peaceable citizens, have equal rights before the 
 law rights which cannot be denied or ignored. 
 
 What then was to hinder the Government from carry- 
 ing out its own liberal policy ? In our country we have but 
 one plain rule : to find out the right in a case, and then to 
 go ahead and do it. But Spain is not America, and things 
 cannot be done in this blunt, republican way. The Liberal 
 
NEGOTIATING AVITIT THE POPE. 167 
 
 Ministry, with the best intentions, feared to arouse the sus- 
 picions and hatreds of the Clerical party, which are so bitter 
 in Spain ; and to allay this distrust, began the business by 
 sending an envoy to Eome to enter into negotiations for a 
 concordat with the Pope ! 
 
 Could anything be more humiliating for a people who 
 are proud of their independence, than to have to ask 
 permission of a foreign power before they could decide 
 how they could be legally married? It matters not what 
 that power may be, whether prince or priest, king or kaiser, 
 or pontiff, it is a confession of servitude, and a badge of 
 degradation. 
 
 Of course the Pope, or those about him, wishing to 
 retain power in all Catholic countries, stoutly opposed any 
 relaxation of the iron rule in Spain, the result of which is 
 that the decree against civil marriages still stands, and the 
 cruel wrongs which it inflicts are to this day unredressed. 
 
 It is discouraging to see such a sign of reaction in a 
 country for which we hoped so much; but we are not 
 obliged to consider this reaction as a persistent force 
 a set-back from which there can be no return. These ups 
 and downs of parties are but the ebb and flow of a sea 
 which, however fast it may be running out just now, will 
 by-and-by come back and roll its thundering waves upon 
 the shore. The tendency of the age is towards liberty, 
 and that tendency, however it may be checked, cannot be 
 permanently arrested in any civilized country. In Spain 
 things move slowl}% but it is only a question of time when 
 this great injustice shall be done away. If I speak of it 
 now, it is not to put dishonor upon a country which has 
 entered on the path of liberty, but only to show that it has 
 not yet attained unto perfection, and has to advance much 
 farther before it can stand in the sante rank with England 
 or the United States, or even with France or Italy. 
 
CHAPTER XH 
 
 THE ESCORIAL PHILIP THE SECOND THE BURIAL- 
 PLACE OF KTNGS. 
 
 What the Palace of Versailles is in France, the Escorial 
 is in Spain. Each is the monument of a great reign, and 
 of a great period in history ; each was erected by the 
 greatest monarch of his time, out of resources which only 
 a kingdom could furnish j and each remains the type of a 
 political condition which has forever passed away. But 
 here the resemblance ends : for Versailles was only the 
 residence of a Court, while the Escorial, reared in 
 performance of a religious vow, was to have a religious 
 as well as a royal character to be a Monastery as well as 
 a Palace. It has also a peculiar interest as connected with 
 one of the most extraordinary characters in history. It is 
 therefore, on many accounts, the place of greatest interest 
 in Spain. 
 
 As the Escorial owes its existence to this memorable 
 vow, that must be referred to at the outset as the key to 
 the whole design. Once, and once only, in his life, did 
 Philip the Second venture near a field of battle at St. 
 Quentin in France and then he was in mortal fear of 
 defeat. In terror at what seemed to be before him, he 
 
THE VOW TO ST. LAURENCE. 169 
 
 made a vow to St. Laurence (as the battle was on that 
 saint's day) that if he would help him out of the sore strait 
 he was in, he would build a monastery bearing his name, 
 in token of his gratitude. Apparently the saint took his 
 part, for he gained the victory ; nor did he (to his honor 
 be it said) forget in the hour of success the promise which 
 he had made in the hour of danger, but set about its 
 execution with a deliberateness and largeness of plan 
 which showed that he intended to make it the work of 
 his life. Those were the days when the mines of Mexico 
 and Peru poured their treasures into the lap of Spain. 
 What use so fit to make of this enormous influx of wealth 
 as to build a Temple to God, and a Monastery for those 
 who should celebrate His worship from generation to 
 generation ? With this should be combined a Palace for 
 his own royal house. The more the King thought of it, the 
 more the project grew in his imagination. With all his 
 affected humility, he was not free from ambition ; and this 
 double pile, Monastery and Palace in one, would be a mon- 
 ument not only to St. Laurence, but to himself. 
 
 Having formed his plan, he proceeded to carry it out 
 with the energy and persistence which were the strong 
 elements of his character. Selecting a site in the bleakest 
 spot in all Spain, on the side of the Guadarrama Moun- 
 tains, in sight of his capital, yet so far away from it that 
 the noise of its streets might not disturb his royal ear, he 
 laid the foundations of the enormous structure. The 
 material was to be of granite, the most enduring of stone, 
 and the walls of such thickness that no earthquake could 
 shake them down. Thus the work was begun and carried 
 on under the eye of Philip himself. That he might get a 
 better view of the rising walls, he was wont to ride out to 
 a point on the mountain-side from which he could look 
 down upon them. Here was a huge boulder, up which 
 
170 THE DREARY LANDSCAPE. 
 
 were traced some rude steps, and on the top were hewn 
 out three seats for himself, his wife, and his son. Here 
 he would come when the work of the day was ended, and 
 the twilight was fading over the tops of the mountains ; 
 and as he looked down, rejoice that he had laid the 
 foundation of a structure which should endure as long as 
 the everlasting hills. And so the work went on for twenty- 
 one years till the design was complete. This was the 
 Escorial, which we were now to visit. 
 
 It is but an hour's ride from Madrid that is to say, it 
 would be were trains run in this country as they are in 
 America. The distance is but thirty-two miles, which one 
 of our "lightning expresses" would pass over in three- 
 quarters of an hour. But in Spain nothing goes by 
 lightning, and hardly by steam. Even the forces of 
 nature do not work here quite as in the rest of the world. 
 When the steam is up, it seems as if the engine stopped 
 to deliberate whether it had better go, having a doubt in 
 its secret mind whether life, even the life of an engine, 
 were worth living, if it were doomed to such preternatural 
 activity. Indeed one may say truly that in this country 
 trains are not "run" at all: they crawl. To a Spaniard 
 time is of no consequence : the longer he is on the way, 
 the more time he has to smoke ; and he is not impatient 
 that the ride to the Escorial should take nearly three 
 hours ! 
 
 Nor was I much disturbed by it : for as we moved 
 slowly over the plain, bleak as a Scottish moor, and now 
 bleaker than ever on this "Winter's day, I was content to 
 sit in a corner and look out upon a landscape which, 
 dreary as it was, had witnessed many stirring scenes ; 
 over which had passed great armies, from the days of 
 Caesar to 1 Napoleon. While thus absorbed, the Guadar- 
 rama Mountains, which may be seen on the horizon from 
 
APPROACH TO THE PALACE. 171 
 
 Madrid, come more into the foreground, though they do 
 not improve on acquaintance (having neither the grandeur 
 of the Alps nor the beauty of lower summits covered with 
 verdure) ; but with their stunted trees and masses of rock, 
 present a picture of complete desolation. 
 
 We do not approach directly, but winding round and 
 round, that the railway (which is the great route to the 
 North of Spain and to France) may find a passage through 
 the mountains, when suddenly there rises before us a 
 structure so vast in dimensions, and so sombre and dead 
 in color, that it seems to be a part of the mountain itself. 
 We know it in a moment : it can be none other than THE 
 
 ESCORIAL. 
 
 And now that we are to ride up to a Eoyal Palace, it is 
 befitting that we appear with some degree of state, which 
 is provided in a huge, lumbering omnibus, that had 
 perhaps served in its early days as a Spanish diligence, 
 drawn by two horses and four mules, the latter being 
 harnessed as a regular " stage-coach team " ; while the 
 horses were put abreast of the leaders, one on each side, 
 to give proper dignity to this royal equipage, as well as 
 increased speed in the ascent. As we took our seats on 
 the top beside the driver, he raised himself up, and leaning 
 forward like a huge bird spreading its wings, went " flying 
 all abroad." Cracking his whip with the energy of a 
 Spaniard, he accompanied it with a volley of exclamations 
 (whether they were Spanish oaths, or calls on the saints 
 for help, I knew not), till he grew so red in the face that I 
 should have feared for the consequences had not a second 
 appeared by the roadside to relieve him, by taking a part 
 in his vociferations. Thus urged and lashed to their 
 utmost speed, horses and mules started into a run, and 
 in a few minutes landed us beside the Escorial. 
 
 During this rapid approach, I had a chance to take a 
 
172 ARCHITECTURAL APPEARANCE. 
 
 nearer view of the massive pile, and was disappointed at 
 the absence of architectural effect. The only impression 
 is that of bigness. Size it certainly has, covering nearly 
 as much ground as the Great Pyramid ; but the Pyramid 
 has a height in proportion to its base, so that it rises 
 before us in imposing majesty ; while the Escorial presents 
 long lines of dead wall, relieved only by thousands of 
 windows, which, as they are all of the same diminutive 
 pattern, need only to have bars before them to complete 
 the picture of a Prison or Lunatic Asylum. It need hardly 
 excite surprise if a stranger who did not know what was 
 before him, should think that he had come suddenly, in 
 this lonely place in the mountains, upon a Penitentiary 
 large enough to hold all the criminals in Spain. 
 
 To get an idea of the magnitude of the Escorial, there 
 is no better way than simply to walk round it, when in 
 seeing the extent of its walls, one can well believe that it 
 has nearly two thousand rooms, and no less than five 
 thousand windows! This vast quadrangle is divided off 
 into courts by a number of pavilions, all so alike, and all 
 so plain and bare, as to give countenance to the common 
 belief that it was modelled after a gridiron, that being the 
 instrument on which St. Laurence suffered martyrdom. 
 But this it is by no means necessary to suppose, since such 
 a resemblance exists in any building which is laid out in 
 the form of a parallelogram, with pavilions connecting the 
 longer sides, between which the courts answer to the open 
 spaces, while the structures themselves represent the iron 
 bars. One has but to enlarge the bars and spaces to colos- 
 sal size to cover acres with building after building, and 
 court after court to form a good idea of the Escorial. 
 My impression was therefore against the popular theory of 
 the model on which it was built ; and yet a friend who has 
 visited the Escorial so often that he may almost be said to 
 
C3URCH, LIBRARY, AND PICTURES. 173 
 
 have lived there, assures me that the common supposition 
 is true : that the architect was expressly instructed to lay 
 it out on the exact plan of that holy instrument of martyr- 
 dom ; and that he obeyed instructions even to the extent 
 of having four towers to represent the legs turned upward 
 in the air, with the church as the handle ! Certainly no 
 gridiron was ever more wanting in artistic design. The 
 impression is made more sombre by the entire absence of 
 color. Everything is on a colossal scale ; while the use of 
 but one material, granite, makes the whole as cold as it is 
 colossal. Not a touch of bright color relieves the old gray 
 walls ; while the gleams of sunshine, often interrupted, are 
 not sufficient to light up the murky shadows of the place. 
 Within and without it has an air of sepulchral gloom. 
 
 To this oppressive monotony there is one splendid 
 exception in the church (or Temple, as it is called), which 
 is the central feature of the Escorial, standing midway 
 between the Palace and the Monastery, and rearing its 
 lofty dome high above the dead level of the roofs that 
 surround it. This church, if it be not worthy to rank with 
 the great cathedrals of Spain, stands next to them. In one 
 respect it has an advantage over them, in that the effect is 
 not half destroyed by having the choir in the centre, thus 
 obstructing the view from every side. Here it is with- 
 drawn to the extreme end, over the entrance, leaving the 
 whole space of nearly four hundred feet with nothing to 
 break it, so that the effect is very imposing. 
 
 Here then is one part of the Escorial, in which a man 
 of architectural taste need not be disappointed ; while the 
 scholar and man of letters may find a pleasant retreat in 
 the library, which was, and still is, one of the finest in 
 Spain ; and in the collections of pictures, though these 
 were formerly more rich than now that the masterpieces 
 have been removed to the Museum in Madrid, 
 
174 PHILIP THE SECOND. 
 
 But that which gives to the Escorial an interest greater 
 than all else, is that it was the creation of Philip the 
 Second, of which he was the designer and builder, and in 
 which we recognize his very self carved in stone. The 
 interest of this dreary abode is that it was the home of 
 that mysterious being, who sat in its heart three hundred 
 years ago, and from it ruled half the world. His person- 
 ality grows upon us as we penetrate into the interior. 
 Entering on one side, we are taken in charge by a custodi- 
 an, who leads the way up the grand staircase, and through 
 a long succession of apartments, which remind us of 
 Versailles. But these do not interest me much, so many 
 palaces have I seen, and found them all alike, or at least 
 having a general resemblance. These apartments have 
 indeed one unusual attraction in the tapestry with which 
 they are hung, woven after designs by Teniers, Wouver- 
 mans, and other Dutch artists, all which at another time 
 and in another mood, we should have admired as splendid 
 specimens of the painter's and the weaver's art. But just 
 then we were intent on something else, and hurried 
 through these tapestried halls, hardly pausing even in that 
 of the Ambassadors, in which they were accustomed to 
 wait till they could be admitted to the royal presence. 
 But here we pricked up our ears, as our conductor said 
 "Now I am going to show you the room of Philip the 
 Second " ; and leading us along the passage by which the 
 Ambassadors were introduced, he opened a door, and we 
 stood in the apartment of the King. It was not a secret 
 chamber, but it was a very retired one, at an inner corner 
 of the Palace. This was the lion's den, from which the 
 slightest growl set all Europe in fear : for its occupant was 
 in the sixteenth century what Louis XIV. was in the sev- 
 enteenth, though ruling a greater dominion, and with more 
 absolute sway. 
 
HIS PRIVATE APARTMENT. 175 
 
 This was the King into whose private apartment we 
 were now suddenly introduced. But this very fact caused 
 a disappointment. A ruler who was greater than Emperor 
 or Sultan, we should expect to find surrounded with a 
 magnificence which was the symbol of his power. Yet to 
 our amazement, the royal apartment is the poorest and 
 meanest of all that are shown in the Escorial. The floor 
 is of brick, and the walls are bare, without a single orna- 
 ment except a picture of the Virgin. In a small side-room, 
 like an alcove, is his writing-desk. In this inkstand which 
 I take in my hand, he dipped his pen when he signed a 
 decree that might be executed on the other side of the 
 globe. This is his portfolio a simple wooden affair, which 
 could be folded up like a checker-board, and was apparent- 
 ly made for use in a camp, as it is the very same which he 
 had at the Battle of St. Quentin, and on which perhaps he 
 recorded his vow to build a Palace for God and (this may 
 explain the bareness of the room in which he lived) a hut 
 for himself! In this room are kept his one chair and the 
 two stools on which alternately he rested his gouty leg. 
 To the adorers of monarchy it may seem presumption in 
 an ordinary mortal, and a Republican at that, to sit in a 
 royal seat ; but the old custodian, with an eye to an extra 
 fee, drew aside the protecting screen, and I seated myself 
 squarely in the chair of Philip the Second ; and that I 
 might even assume the very posture of " my predecessor," 
 stretched out a foot upon the same rest which had* sup- 
 ported his ; and indeed as he had two such rests for a 
 change, I spread myself right and left, that I might lean 
 upon both, and thus be doubly supported in my transient 
 regal state. After this extended experience, I can testify 
 that a royal seat is not always the most comfortable in the 
 world. Instead of being a throne, or even a luxurious 
 place of repose, it was made of hard board, without a 
 
176 GLOOMY AND SOLTTAEY LTFE. 
 
 cushion ; and the stools were positively disreputable ; 
 while his poor Secretary sat abjectly on a still lower seat, 
 from which to listen humbly to his master's will. All this 
 is so unlike a royal apartment, that one would take it for a 
 back room in a castle, assigned to some prisoner of State 
 who was doomed to separation from the world, rather than 
 the chosen retreat of the Sovereign who ruled it. Yet 
 within these blank walls, seated on that wooden chair, the 
 greatest monarch'of his age made his power felt in two 
 hemispheres. 
 
 Here lived for fourteen years the most gloomy King 
 that ever sat upon a throne. Shut up within these walls, 
 he kept apart from his fellow-beings, coming in contact 
 only (except with priests and monks) with his Ministers or 
 the flatterers of his Court, or Ambassadors from abroad, 
 the homage of all whom he received with the same indiffer- 
 ence, never rewarding their incense even with a smile, or 
 giving way to any such sign of weakness as might indicate 
 that he cared for the praise of men. A King of this 
 gloomy character could not make the royal household 
 very cheerful. It could hardly have been a great pleasure 
 in that day to be invited to this grim and solemn Court, 
 on which his presence weighed like a nightmare. The 
 life of Philip was so solitary that he could hardly be 
 expected to have much sympathy with his fellow-beings. 
 Those of the outer world he scarcely saw, and never in a 
 way to excite in him any feeling of compassion. What 
 were they to him ? His it was to execute the will of God, 
 no matter what destruction it caused. From this chamber 
 he sent forth his decrees to all parts of the world decrees 
 often the most cruel now to the Duke of Alva to crush 
 the rising spirit of the Netherlands, and now to Cortez in 
 Mexico or Pizarro in Peru, giving them full leave to 
 execute their bloody will, little heeding how much of 
 
THE KING AT HIS PRAYERS. 177 
 
 human misery the execution of his orders might involve. 
 Having thus discharged his mind of the cares of State, 
 having performed his public duties, he turned to what 
 was his only relief that of prayer. His apartment had 
 been chosen close to the church, with a small oratory that 
 had a window opening on the high altar, at which he could 
 kneel and pray. When he was at his devotions, no one 
 dared to disturb him. His life was as much that of a 
 monk as a king. He slept in a monk's cell, and daily 
 joined with them in their prayers. For this purpose he 
 did not have to descend into the church : for he could 
 pass along the gallery to the choir a gallery so massive 
 in its arches and their supporting columns, that it seems 
 as if the whole had been tunnelled out of the living rock, 
 like the galleries at Gibraltar. Along this corridor, where 
 his footfall woke only the dull sound of the echoing stone, 
 the King stole softly at the sound of the vesper-bell. 
 "When the two hundred monks of the monastery had filed 
 into their places in the choir, he entered by a private door, 
 and took his seat among them, as if he were one of the 
 brethren. His " stall " was in the farthest corner, where 
 he could not be observed, and yet could see and hear all, 
 keeping his eye on the high altar, and joining fervently in 
 the prayers for the living and the dead. There, as he 
 bowed upon his knees, we may hope that his spirit was 
 truly humbled under the spell of the place and the hour ; 
 that for once he forgot that he was king in the presence 
 of Him who was King of kings and Lord of lords. 
 
 Philip lived in the Escorial fourteen years to a day. 
 But to kings as to meaner men, the last hour must come. 
 He was in Madrid when he was seized with the fatal 
 illness, and he insisted on being carried back to the 
 Escorial. Fifty-three days he lay dying, during which he 
 suffered in mind as in body. Priests and confessors stood 
 
178 THE DEATH OF PHILIP. 
 
 round him, ready to absolve him from his sins ; but that 
 did not relieve his conscience. With all that he had done 
 for the Church, he was haunted by a fear that he had 
 committed some deadly sin, for which he should be 
 condemned at the final bar. He had doomed his fellow- 
 creatures to death : what if they should rise up against 
 him, and call upon God for judgment ? Doubts and fears 
 pressed upon him as he drew near the final hour. It was 
 but a little group that could be gathered in the oratory 
 where he had been wont to pray, and even to these he was 
 oblivious. The window was opened into the church, and 
 he had no eyes for anything but what was there. Clasping 
 in his hand the crucifix which his father, Charles V., 
 pressed to his dying lips, with his agonized gaze fixed on 
 the high altar, the soul of Philip the Second passed to the 
 presence of God. 
 
 What shall we say of such a man? That he was "the 
 greatest and meanest " of mankind ? No : he was far 
 from being the greatest, and yet he had great qualities, 
 great force of will, great persistence in his designs, and 
 great equanimity in victory or defeat. It was no ordinary 
 self-control that would not permit him to rise from his 
 knees even to hear the tidings of the victory of Lepanto, 
 which saved Christendom from the Turk ; and it was no 
 common firmness that could receive the news of the 
 destruction of the Armada (which had cost him eighteen 
 years of preparation, and hundreds of millions of money) 
 without moving a muscle, only dropping a philosophical 
 observation about the vicissitudes of human fortune, and 
 thanking God that if one Armada was destroyed, he had 
 still the means to build another. 
 
 Judged by his devotion to the Church, Philip was one 
 of the most religious of men. He was exact in his 
 observances ; he fasted and prayed and submitted to 
 
THE BURIAL-PLACE OF KINGS. 170 
 
 penances ; though suffering a disease which often caused 
 agony, he allowed himself no indulgences ; he sat in a 
 hard chair and slept on a hard bed, and was more rigid 
 and exacting than any confessor towards himself. 
 
 And yet this cold, impassive man, who allowed himself 
 no pleasures, and whose self-denials, if rightly directed, 
 might have made the happiness of millions, was one of the 
 worst men that ever sat upon a throne. Few men can be 
 named in history who have caused more misery to the 
 human race. He ruined his country by his persecutions 
 and his wars ; he sent thousands of the best men in Spain 
 to the stake without a twinge of remorse ; and he suffered 
 Cortez and Pizarro to commit the most horrid crimes in 
 Mexico and Peru, in the name of Christ ! Thus he shed 
 blood like water, both in his own unhappy country and in 
 the ends of the earth. After all this, how can we help 
 feeling that it was a just retribution if it be true, as 
 historians tell us that on his death-bed he suffered the 
 torments of hell, since under the government of God it is 
 the inexorable law that "he shall have judgment without 
 mercy that showed no mercy " ? 
 
 I do not wish to linger in the Escorial : it is too dark 
 and gloomy. But there is one feature which needs to be 
 added to complete the picture of the place. We have 
 seen the room in which Philip the Second lived and died ; 
 we may now descend into the crypt in which his body 
 rests, with others of the royal dead. Charles the Fifth 
 abdicated his throne the year before his death, and retired 
 to the Convent of Yuste in Spain, there to consider his 
 latter end, and prepare for his departure. In this year 
 of meditation, his thoughts were occupied with his own 
 future, and seemed to be divided between the care of his 
 body and the salvation of his soul. For the former he 
 enjoined his son to prepare a royal burial-place. Philip 
 
180 OBTAINING ADMISSION. 
 
 therefore included in his plan of the Escorial a Mausoleum 
 into which should be gathered, generation after generation, 
 the long and illustrious line of Spanish kings. This is the 
 famous " Pantheon," which is an object of peculiar interest. 
 But how to obtain access to it, was the question. It 
 was undergoing extensive alterations, during which visitors 
 were rigidly excluded. The orders were peremptory, and 
 I was told in Madrid that admission was "impossible." 
 Even Mr. Curry had found, on a recent visit, that his 
 official position did not avail to unbar the doors ; and 
 yet it was through him that I obtained what he had 
 not obtained for himself. As his house is a place of 
 social reunions which include many connected with the 
 government, it was there that I met the Introducer of 
 Ambassadors, to whom Mr. Curry preferred my request. 
 He was very courteous, as Spanish officials generally are, 
 and said that, although it was very difficult, he would do 
 what he could. A day or two after he came to tell me 
 that the Pantheon, which is in the crypt of the church, 
 was, like the Monastery itself, under the care of a religious 
 order, and that therefore he had brought me, as the most 
 likely to be of service, a letter to the Prior, in which he 
 had introduced me as " a learned American gentleman," 
 and requested as a special favor that the doors which were 
 shut in the face of the outside world, might be opened to 
 me. Armed with this, Mr. Gulick and myself, after we 
 had been through the Palace, presented ourselves at the 
 door of the Monastery, and giving the letter to a young 
 monk, asked him to take it to his Superior. In a few 
 minutes he returned with it in his hand, and a direction 
 that it should be shown to the official in charge of the 
 works, whom we found in the corridor, and to whom we 
 presented our " commission." He read it over carefully, 
 and raising his eyes, acknowledged a request coming 
 
FIRST PORTION OF THE CRYPT. 181 
 
 from the Palace, and approved by the Prior, as an instruc- 
 tion which he could not disregard, and said that if we 
 would meet him at two o'clock at a certain gate at the 
 rear of the church, he would be there to open it for us, 
 and would himself conduct us to what we had so much 
 desired to see. At the appointed hour we were on the 
 spot, where he had just arrived, and at once the heavy 
 bolt was unlocked, the iron door swung open, and we 
 descended into the Sepulchre of Kings. 
 
 The first portion of the crypt into which we were 
 introduced, seemed quite new, or at least newly arranged 
 a sort of Annex to the Pantheon, which was greatly 
 needed : for here, as in humbler burial-places, there are 
 constant accessions to the number of the departed. 
 "Death knocks alike at the palace gate and the cottage 
 door," and here, as in country graveyards, where 
 " The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep," 
 there is a constant cry of " Boom, room for the dead ! " 
 And so new forms, of the young as well as the old, are 
 brought to the embrace of this royal, yet cold and silent, 
 place of rest. 
 
 This addition to the Pantheon, the newer part, is much 
 larger than the old, as here are deposited the remains of 
 those members of the royal families who did not sit upon 
 a throne. In Spain the order of precedence is strictly 
 observed even in the grave, and the Pantheon, which is 
 limited in size, is reserved only for kings and queens. It 
 may be said to keep guard over the royal line as something 
 sacred, not to be confused with anything of inferior blood, 
 even if it be their own blood, and no one can pass its grim 
 portal who has not in person sat upon a throne, or at least 
 shared a throne with a king as his queen, or with a reign- 
 ing queen as a king-consort. And not all queens are ad- 
 mitted, but those only who have been the mothers of kings. 
 
182 THE TOMB OF DON CARLOS. 
 
 Thus Philip the Second had four wives, of whom only 
 one, the mother of Philip the Third, is buried in the Pan- 
 theon, while two others [one, "Bloody Mary," is buried in 
 England] are retired to that part of the crypt which we 
 are now entering, where they sleep only among princes 
 and princesses. But if the dead could choose their resting 
 place, one would think that they would prefer this outer 
 court to the other. True, the Pantheon is more select, 
 but it is darker and gloomier, as it is farther under 
 ground, while here the pavement is but a few feet below 
 the earth, so that it is within reach of light from the upper 
 air, which, as it is admitted through windows of ground 
 glass, rests softly on the white marble under which the 
 dead repose. With such gleams of sunshine amid the 
 shadows, the dead are nearer to the living world above 
 them, and, one would think, might sleep more tranquilly 
 than if buried in utter darkness. 
 
 One familiar with Spanish history would pause long 
 before these sarcophagi, above which is inscribed upon 
 the wall many a name associated with royal splendor. 
 Here rest two of the wives of Philip the Second, each of 
 whom, in her turn, presided over his gloomy Court. But 
 here too are names which recall sad histories. Here 
 sleeps the king's son, Don Carlos, whose unhappy fate 
 suggested to Schiller the subject for a tragedy, but no 
 blood-curdling scene upon the stage could equal the real 
 tragedy of one who, born to a throne, was accused of hav- 
 ing conspired against the life of his father, by whom he was 
 imprisoned for years, and some believe finally put to death. 
 Such are the tragedies which may be hidden within palace 
 walls. Other histories there may have been less tragic, 
 but hardly less pathetic, as where some princess, under 
 royal disfavor (for no place in the world is more full of 
 heart-burnings, of pride, envy, and all un charitableness, 
 
DON JOHN OF AUSTRIA. 183 
 
 than a Court), withered like a flower, till at last she was 
 glad to hide her sorrow in the silence of the grave. 
 
 There was something very touching in the frequent 
 quoting of passages of Scripture. Each sarcophagus is 
 inscribed with some word of hope, such as " Blessed are 
 the dead that die in the Lord " a consolation as precious 
 to those of higher as of humbler birth. As in Gray's 
 Elegy in a Country Churchyard, 
 
 " Many a holy text around is strewn 
 That teach the rustic moralist to die," 
 
 so here the royal as well as the rustic moralist is "taught 
 to die " by words of faith, which alone can support king or 
 prince or peasant in a dying hour. 
 
 While many of these illustrious names appear in one 
 larger Mortuary Chapel, there are smaller chapels for 
 others, more or less near kindred to royalty. In one of 
 these is a warrior's tomb, which bears a great name that 
 of Don John of Austria, the illegitimate son of Charles the 
 Fifth, who, if not reckoned among hereditary princes, was 
 greater than them all, as he was the hero of Lepanto, the 
 victory which destroyed the Turkish fleet in the Mediter- 
 ranean, and proved a fatal blow to the Moslem power. 
 
 As we thus pass slowly from tomb to tomb, our interest 
 is wound up to a pitch that prepares us for a further 
 descent into the earth. We are apprised that we are 
 about to enter a still more imposing burial-place, by the 
 richly-colored marbles and the long flight of steps lined 
 with walls of jasper, by which we go down to the silent 
 chamber in which none but kings and queens repose. 
 This is the Pantheon, the first glance at which shows us 
 that it has been modelled after the Chapel of the Medici 
 in Florence. It is much smaller, being only thirty-six 
 feet in diameter by thirty-eight feet high ; but the plan is 
 the same that of an octagon and both have the same 
 
184 CHARLES THE FIFTH. 
 
 style of decoration in the dark, polished marbles, which 
 give them a kind of solemn splendor. 
 
 Of the eight sides, one is taken up by the heavy door, 
 and the one opposite by an altar, which divides the kings 
 from the queens, the former being on the right, and the 
 latter on the left. All the dead are encased in coffins of 
 black marble, placed one above another, like the bodies in 
 the Catacombs. This treatment of the royal dead seems 
 hardly in accord with their dignity. Think of the great 
 Emperor Charles the Fifth being laid on a shelf! Yet 
 so it is. But for all that, one cannot repress a feeling akin 
 to awe at sight of the black sarcophagus in which they 
 keep his bones. It lies at the top, so that standing on the 
 pavement, we look up to it ; and how can we help thinking 
 of the exalted station of him who lies there ; of all he was 
 and did ; of the battles he fought and the victories he won : 
 how he captured the King of France at the Battle of Pavia, 
 and brought him a prisoner to Madrid? Nor could a 
 Protestant forget that this is the man before whom Luther 
 stood at the Diet of Worms, and made the immortal 
 defence, whose last words still ring in the hearts of Ger- 
 many and of the Protestant world : " Here I take my 
 stand : I cannot do otherwise. God help me ! " Those 
 two men Charles and Luther were the two great figures 
 of the sixteenth century. At Worms they met and parted, 
 and never met again. Luther was delivered out of the 
 jaws of the lion, and Charles was enraged that he had let 
 him escape, and to the last day of his life did not cease to 
 regret that he had not burned the man he had promised 
 to protect ! The sacredness of a royal oath was nothing 
 to the service he might thus have rendered to the Church. 
 And now as history passes judgment on the two men who 
 on that day stood face to face, it places the intrepid Monk 
 far above the treacherous King. 
 
THE BURIAL OF ALFONSO. 185 
 
 Under Charles the Fifth rests the body of his son, 
 Philip the Second, followed in order by Philip the Third 
 and Philip the Fourth, after which come the Charleses. 
 
 At the head of another tier of kings lies Ferdinand 
 VLT., beneath whom is an empty sarcophagus for his 
 daughter, Isabella the Second, waiting till she departs 
 out of this life, when it will be opened to receive her. 
 According to the Spanish order of dignity, even sex is dis- 
 regarded in the assignments to these royal tombs. Thus 
 Isabella, when she comes to be gathered to her fathers, 
 will be placed among the kings, while her husband, Don 
 Francisco de Assisi, who is only a king-consort, will be 
 placed among queens ! 
 
 Below the niche reserved for Isabella, is that in which 
 already lies the body of her son, the late King Alfonso. 
 It must have been an impressive scene when this young 
 prince was borne to his rest. He was buried with a con- 
 formity to ancient usage which could have had no parallel 
 anywhere else in the world, and the very story of which 
 (as told me by one who knows all the actors in the august 
 ceremonial) recalls the pomp and state of the Middle Ages. 
 According to the old Spanish custom, the death of a king 
 is not recognized till certain formalities have been ob- 
 served. He may be lying in his coffin, but he is a mon- 
 arch still, and must be approached with the reverence due 
 to majesty. All these forms of respect were punctiliously 
 observed while the body of Alfonso was lying in state 
 in the Palace, and when it was removed to the Escorial. 
 Here the procession is formed at the foot of the hill, 
 and moves slowly upward to the Monastery, where the 
 funeral car stops before the principal door. But the door 
 is shut, and even the King cannot enter unannounced. 
 A spiritual warder stands at the gates of the tomb, and 
 a voice from within cries, "Who would enter here?" 
 
183 THE BURIAL OF ALFONSO. 
 
 "Alfonso XII.," is the reply, at which the door is thrown 
 open, and the funeral cortege (which includes all that is 
 most illustrious in birth or rank in Spain) enters within the 
 consecrated walls. Here it pauses on the pavement, while 
 only three the Prior of the Monastery, the Chamberlain 
 of the Palace, and the Minister of Grace and Justice 
 descend the long flight of steps to the Pantheon below, 
 where the King is laid on a table, surrounded by the silent 
 forms of the royal dead. He is not dead, at least not offi- 
 cially dead, and cannot be till, as one may say, he gives 
 his own royal assent. And so, when the bearers have laid 
 him down and retired, and all is hushed and still, the Lord 
 Chamberlain lifts the heavy cloth of gold, unlocks the 
 coffin and raises the glass, and looks once more upon the 
 face of his late master. Perhaps the King will recognize 
 this last act of devotion. So at least his servant would 
 seem to think a possibility, since, kneeling down, he cries 
 three times in the ear that is still open, though the eye be 
 closed, " Senor ! Senor ! Senor ! " and waits for a few mo- 
 ments ; peradventure he may receive at least some faint 
 and whispered reply ; but hearing none, he rises to his 
 feet, and exclaims, as if with wonder and surprise, "His 
 Majesty does not answer! Then indeed the King is 
 dead ! " and locking again the coffin, he hands the keys 
 to the Prior, and taking in his hand the wand of office, 
 breaks it over the silent dust, as a token of a power that 
 has ceased to be ; and then they slowly ascend the marble 
 steps, having laid another Spanish monarch in the burial- 
 place of kings. 
 
 All this is very impressive, and yet, apart from such 
 occasional ceremonials, the Pantheon is a dreary place in 
 which to sleep one's last sleep. It is far under ground, 
 where not a ray of light ever penetrates. The very 
 thought of this utter darkness fills one with creeping 
 
THE PANTHEON FAR UNDER GROUND. 187 
 
 horror. De Amicis says that when he visited the Pan- 
 theon, the guide tried his nerves by extinguishing the 
 light, so that he was left in total darkness. The feeling 
 that he had at that moment I can understand, for I once 
 had the same, on that memorable midnight when I found 
 myself in the heart of the Great Pyramid. It was as if I 
 were entombed, buried alive in a mountain of rock, from 
 which I should nevermore come forth to see the light of 
 day and breathe the air of heaven. 
 
 I do not wonder that the gentle Mercedes shuddered 
 at the thought of a resting-place so dark and cold, and 
 begged them not to lay her here. Poor young thing! 
 She loved the sunshine, and so they laid her in a chapel 
 of the church above, where the light streaming through 
 the windows would rest upon her tomb, and friends could 
 come and cover it with flowers. 
 
 No doubt the selection of the place for the Pantheon 
 was determined by religious considerations, for it is right 
 under the high altar in the church, which must have been 
 from a feeling, not less real because vague and dim, that 
 as the daily sacrifice was offered for the quick and dead, 
 some blessing might descend on their sleeping dust and 
 their departed souls. 
 
 But if the Pantheon be not the chamber where we 
 would sleep, it is a place where we may learn some useful 
 lessons for the life that remains to us on the earth. We 
 have been among dead men's bones, and we find them to 
 be none the less dead because they are the bones of kings. 
 Death is a mighty disenchanter, and few are the names 
 which do not lose when they who bore them are no longer 
 among the living. In the Museum at Madrid is a painting 
 of Charles the Fifth on horseback, clad in full armor, as he 
 rode before his army at the battle of Muhlberg. On the 
 field he looked every inch a king. But how appears he 
 
188 THE "GLORIA" OF TITIAN. 
 
 now? A few years since, when the Emperor of Brazil 
 visited the Escorial, the coffin was opened and the face 
 uncovered. They even permitted photographs to be taken, 
 which are sold to-day in the shops of Madrid. It is a 
 ghastly figure. The lower jaw has fallen down, so that the 
 mouth is wide open, like that of an idiot. And this is all 
 that is left of that Imperial countenance " whose bend did 
 awe the world " I 
 
 But it is not the common lot of mortality that is to be 
 cast up in the face of a dead king. What was his life ? 
 What use did he make of his power? Was he a bene- 
 factor of his race ? Spanish historians may count it 
 enough that he was a Catholic King to make him both 
 great and good. So he judged himself, and as such fondly 
 believed that he was a special object of Divine regard. 
 In the Museum at Madrid is a large canvas on which the 
 most distinguished painter of his age has made an apothe- 
 osis of this pair of kings, Charles and Philip, represent- 
 ing them on their knees, in the attitude of prayer, encom- 
 passed by angels, who are bearing them up to heaven into 
 the presence of the Father and the Son (the Spirit is indi- 
 cated by a dove hovering between them), who bend from 
 above to welcome them to "everlasting joy and felicity." 
 Could anything be imagined more illustrative of the colos- 
 sal pride of this Emperor, who had so long been looked up 
 to as a god by his fellow-mortals, that he really thought 
 the heavens would bow to receive his proud and selfish 
 soul. This elaborate painting (the very idea of which is 
 so absurd that nothing but the genius of Titian saves it 
 from being ridiculous) was the favorite picture of Charles 
 the Fifth, who kept it always before his eye at Yuste, and 
 left a special command that it should be hung over his 
 grave, as it was for many years until his body was removed 
 to the Escoriai 
 
FACING THE ARMY OF THE DEAD. 189 
 
 And yet this man who saw himself ascending to heaven 
 in the company of angels, might rather have looked to 
 meeting the army of the dead whom he had sent to 
 untimely graves. He had spent his life in wars ; he had 
 shed rivers of blood, and might well have feared to meet 
 those whom he had sent into the eternal world before him. 
 It is thus that the old Hebrew prophet pictures an ancient 
 destroyer of his race descending into the shades : " Hell 
 from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy 
 coming : it stirreth up the dead for thee." ..." They 
 that see thee shall narrowly look upon thee and consider 
 thee, saying, Is this the man that made the earth to trem- 
 ble ; that did shake kingdoms ; that made the world as a 
 wilderness, and destroyed cities ; that opened not the 
 house of his prisoners ? " 
 
 Every word of this were as fitly addressed to Charles 
 the Fifth as to the King of Babylon. He too might be 
 arrayed before a tribunal of the dead, of the patriots 
 whom he sent to the scaffold, and the martyrs whom he 
 burned at the stake. And if all the unburied slain whose 
 bones he scattered on the battle-fields of Europe, were to 
 rise up like a cloud in the air, he would not indeed find 
 himself alone in the other world ; but instead of being 
 attended by the angelic host, would be followed by a very 
 different host, that would drag him down to the Eternal 
 Darkness. 
 
 When we had left the Pantheon, and come up to the 
 light of day, there was yet time to get one more look at 
 the Escorial from a distance ; and taking a carriage, we 
 drove out to the seat of Philip the Second on the moun- 
 tain side. The grounds in the rear of the Palace are not 
 unpleasant : for here the trees, sheltered from the winds, 
 have grown so as to form a grove, which is a favorite 
 resort for excursion parties from Madrid in the heat of 
 
190 LAST LOOK FROM THE KING'S SEAT. 
 
 Summer, where they can spend a day in the delightful 
 shade. But as we pass beyond, the mountain becomes 
 more rugged. Climbing up the boulder, I took my seat 
 in the very niche in the rock hewn out for the King, and 
 looked round on the same scene on which he had looked a 
 thousand times. It was a raw wintry day. The mountains 
 were covered with snow. Yet bleak and bare and cold as 
 was the landscape, it was but a faint image of the desola- 
 tion caused by that wicked reign. Nature can work no 
 such ruin as may be wrought by the pride and self-will of 
 man when clothed with absolute power. Such is the lesson 
 of the Escorial, which has stood among these mountains 
 for three hundred years, and may stand till the globe 
 itself shall melt. Let it stand as a lesson and a warning 
 a colossal monument of the ages of tyranny and bigotry, 
 which, we trust, have passed away forever from the earth. 
 
CHAPTEE XIH. 
 THE CITY OF TOLEDO. 
 
 When we exchange Madrid for Toledo, we come to a 
 city which was once the capital of Spain, but which is in 
 every respect a contrast to the capital we have left behind. 
 In three hours we have passed from New Spain to Old 
 Spain. Madrid is a new city, not indeed in the American 
 sense not new as Chicago is new, for it is more than 
 three hundred years old but new as compared with cities 
 that date from the time of the Romans. 
 
 In one respect the approach to Toledo is not unlike 
 that to Borne, for it is along the course of a rapid river 
 that, when swollen by rains (at other times it is said that 
 its color is a beautiful deep green), might be called the 
 Yellow Tagus, for the same reason that the Romans spoke 
 of the Yellow Tiber, this being colored by the soil which it 
 brings from the Spanish mountains, as the Tiber brings 
 the same from the Apennines. But here the relation of 
 the river to the city is much more close, for while the 
 Tiber flows through Home, dividing it in twain, the Tagus 
 puts its arms around Toledo as in a loving embrace. 
 
 Nothing ean be more striking than the first view of 
 Toledo from a distance. It is at once " a city set on a hill " 
 
192 A CITY SET ON A HILL. 
 
 and " founded on a rock," the hill being a mass of gran- 
 ite that rises proudly above the river and the plain, the 
 effect of which is greatly increased by its being crested 
 with a long, line of battlements. It is very grand, but per- 
 haps some practical American, straining both eyes and 
 neck to look up to the height which he is to climb, might 
 ask " What did they put a town up there for, when they 
 had all this ' river bottom ' to build on, with its ' fine water 
 privileges ' ? " This is a very sensible question : how sensi- 
 ble the Romans proved by the fact that they did build, not 
 on the height, but on the plain. The city on a hill was 
 founded not by the Romans, but by their successors, the 
 Goths ; and why they built there, might be answered in 
 changing slightly the observation of a French officer on 
 the famous charge at Balaklava : " It is magnificent, but it 
 is not war ! " Here we should say " It is magnificent, and 
 it is war." That is what the site was chosen for : because 
 its " munition of rocks " made it a natural fortress. The 
 Romans built in the plain, because their legions were 
 strong enough to defend a city that was not fortified. But 
 the Goths came from the North, where Feudal chiefs, who 
 were little better than robbers, were wont to immure them- 
 selves behind thick walls, from which to sally out and 
 attack cities ; and so they built castles in Spain, as they 
 had built them on the Danube and the Rhine. 
 
 But leaving the question of position till we are inside 
 the walls, we set our faces towards the castellated city. 
 At the very first step we are on the track of the Romans, 
 for the bridge by which we cross the Tagus, though not 
 built by Roman hands (for it has been rebuilt several 
 times since their day), still stands on the very spot which 
 .they chose for it, resting on the same cliffs, and spanning, 
 with the same Roman arches, the same deep gorge, and 
 the same rushing river. From the further bank commences 
 
LIKE JERUSALEM IX POSITION. 193 
 
 the ascent, and here one's blood stirs more quickly as he 
 mounts the winding road and looks over the parapet to the 
 wide landscape, made up of plain and mountain and river. 
 
 A lady of Madrid who accompanied Dean Stanley to 
 Toledo, tells me that he was struck with its resemblance 
 in position to Jerusalem, each being on a high plateau, 
 and cut off by deep gorges from the surrounding country. 
 Toledo, however, presents a much bolder front than Jeru- 
 salem, when the latter is approached (as it is by most 
 travellers) by the Jaffa gate, though the holy city regains 
 in majesty when the pilgrim comes up from the valley of 
 the Jordan, and gets his first view from the Mount of 
 Olives. We had hardly reached the upper level of Toledo, 
 when we came to a stand, for we found ourselves in streets 
 so intricate and aimless that we had to take a guide, who 
 led us through a succession of narrow passages, and even 
 across the floor of the Cathedral, as a short cut to a place 
 of meeting with Mr. Stroebel, who, kind as he always is, 
 had gone down to Toledo the night before to be on hand 
 to show us the city. We found him at the pension of the 
 sisters Figuerroa, two Spanish ladies, who have lived in 
 the same house forty years, rarely, if ever, venturing so far 
 away as Madrid ; and here, screened behind a trellis cov- 
 ered with vines, and a little garden of orange trees, we 
 took our twelve o'clock breakfast, and then, submitting 
 gratefully to the guidance of our most intelligent as well 
 as enthusiastic conductor, sallied out to see Toledo. 
 
 Our commander, with the practiced eye that knows 
 how to take things in their proper order, led us first of all 
 to the highest point of the city, the Mount Zion of this 
 Jerusalem, which commands the most complete survey, not 
 only of what is within the walls, but of the country round. 
 On this height stands the Alcazar, which has done double 
 duty, as Palace and Fortress, from the old Moorish times. 
 
194 THE ALCAZAR. 
 
 Enlarged by Charles the Fifth and Philip the Second, it 
 was occupied by both before the capital was removed to 
 Madrid. But it has had a hard fate. From being the 
 palace of kings, it has been reduced to being a sort of 
 alms-house, or workshop for the poor, and barracks for 
 soldiers ; and has been twice burnt : by the Dutch in the 
 War of the Succession at the beginning of the last cen- 
 tury ; and by the French at the beginning of this. After 
 such vicissitudes of fortune it lay waste for years, but at 
 last seemed to have found its proper office, when the rub- 
 bish was cleared away, and it was converted into a Mili- 
 tary Academy, the West Point of Spain, where six hun- 
 dred cadets were in training to become officers in the 
 Spanish army. Such it was the day we saw it. But ill 
 fortune seems to pursue it still, for in three weeks after 
 our visit it was burned again ! This is discouraging, but 
 as the walls are of great strength, it may once more rise 
 from its ashes [it is already being rebuilt] ; but if it were 
 in ruins, one thing fire cannot destroy : the magnificent 
 view for which, if for nothing else, a traveller will always 
 wish to stand here and take a sweep round the horizon. 
 
 Descending from the Alcazar, we pass out of one of the 
 city gates, across the beautiful Alameda the resort of the 
 people of Toledo on Summer nights to a great Hospital 
 founded by a Cardinal who was the Primate here three 
 hundred and fifty years ago, and who has left something 
 better than the memory of his ecclesiastical dignities, in 
 this noble monument of his beneficence. 
 
 Eeturning along the hill, we move with slow steps, for 
 the view is too enchanting to be passed in haste. Here 
 let us sit on these stones, that have fallen from some old 
 ruin, and feast our eyes on the scene below ! Yonder the 
 yellow Tagus winds through the plain. There on its 
 banks the old Roman city stood. You can see the outline 
 
THE CONVENT OF SAN JUAN. 195 
 
 of the ancient amphitheatre. If the gladiators who fought 
 in it were to come to life again, and wished to prepare for 
 the combat, they would not have far to go to provide 
 themselves with weapons, for only a mile away stands the 
 arsenal for making the famous Toledo blades. But to 
 return to where we are, this brow of the hill was once 
 lined with palaces and convents, all of which have disap- 
 peared ; and it seems as if it were in mockery of departed 
 greatness, that now the only building of large proportions 
 which is fully occupied, is a Lunatic Asylum, whose 
 inmates, screaming from their barred windows, might be 
 the infuriated ghosts of once proud Toledons, wildly 
 lamenting over the loss of what is gone forever ! 
 
 Turning from this to within the city, we come to the 
 great Franciscan Convent of San Juan de los Reyes, built 
 by Ferdinand and Isabella to commemorate a victory, the 
 outer wall of which is "decorated" with the chains of 
 Christian captives, which were struck from the limbs of 
 those who had been taken by the Barbary pirates and 
 held as slaves, and were liberated by Charles V. when he 
 conquered Tunis. One cannot repress a thrill at the sight 
 of these rusted manacles of prisoners and captives, but 
 the satisfaction is marred by one regret, that rulers who 
 knew by the experience of their kindred in the faith how 
 bitter was such captivity, had not learned the virtue of 
 toleration : but truth compels the admission that the 
 Moors, oppressors as they may have been in Africa, were 
 in Spain more tolerant than the Catholic kings. 
 
 Convents- are ;not ordinarily inviting to a stranger, but 
 this has one great attraction in its Cloisters. If complete 
 retirement from the world, even to not looking on the 
 face of nature, could be made tolerable, it would be in a 
 retreat like this a place of silence, broken only by the 
 murmuring fountain or the voice of prayer, but in which, 
 
196 THE CLOISTERS. 
 
 as the solitary monk walked up and down these " cool, 
 sequestered shades," he had before his eye columns carved 
 in the most graceful forms, wreathed and festooned with 
 vines and flowers : what is most beautiful in nature being 
 reproduced in what is most exquisite in art. I do not 
 quite understand how this luxuriant decoration should be 
 suited to the severe life of monks, who have vowed a re- 
 nunciation which, carried to its utmost limit, would seem 
 to require that they should sternly refuse " the delight of 
 the eyes" as well as "the pride of life." But it is not ours 
 to discuss the philosophy of these things : it is enough 
 that the beauty is here, carved in stone ; and that (as it is 
 now being restored at infinite labor, but with perfect taste) 
 it is likely to remain to be the delight of many generations. 
 With the great number of churches that Toledo has 
 to show, it is a diversion to be introduced to a couple of 
 synagogues, which remind us that this was long a favorite 
 city of the Jews. Indeed they had a tradition that it was 
 founded by captives returning from Babylon. But no 
 sacred associations could protect them from persecution. 
 A Jew seemed lawful prey, whom it was doing God service 
 to despoil, if not to destroy. One of this unhappy race 
 was the treasurer of Peter the Cruel, whom he served 
 faithfully, but as he was thrifty and prospered himself, 
 his royal master thought it the readiest way to dispose of 
 him to torture poor Levi till he surrendered all his worldly 
 goods, and then to kill him to make an end of the busi- 
 ness. Ferdinand and Isabella, not content with expelling 
 the Moors, next turned against the Jews, issuing an edict 
 that no one of that ancient people who was unbaptized, 
 should be permitted to live in Spain a decree as foolish 
 as it was cruel, as it offered a premium to hypocrisy, since 
 those who had no conscience would not scruple at baptism 
 or any other test, while the hoary Israelites, who clung to 
 
EXPULSION OF THE JEWS. 197 
 
 the faith of their fathers, were driven out without mercy. 
 By this expulsion Spain lost 170,000 of its best population, 
 who carried with them a large part of the industry and 
 wealth of the kingdom. This banishment bore with espe- 
 cial severity on Toledo : for the Jews were among its rich- 
 est inhabitants, and many historians date from this suicidal 
 decree the beginning of its decline. Sad indeed was the 
 fate of this persecuted race. As they went forth from the 
 gates of the city which they believed had been founded by 
 their ancestors, they must have felt that the time of their 
 captivity had come again, and that they had once more, as 
 an outcast people, to hang their harps upon the willows, 
 since they were again to know the bitterness of exile. 
 
 In this rapid walk around Toledo, we have reserved to 
 the last its greatest sight, the Cathedral, which is the spe- 
 cial admiration of Castelar, as the most perfect specimen 
 of ecclesiastical architecture. I once asked him if he did 
 not think it the most beautiful in Spain, to which he in- 
 stantly replied, " It is the most beautiful in the world ! " at 
 the same time throwing up his hands and raising his eyes, 
 as if he were at that moment looking up into its soaring 
 arches, and listening to strains of unearthly music ; and 
 then he went off into one of those rhapsodies in which he 
 is wont to indulge, in which whatever he loves or admires 
 is glorified with all the splendor of his imagination. 
 
 It is to be regretted that what is so truly grand, cannot 
 be seen in its full majesty from without. But the Cathe- 
 dral has no distance to give it proper effect. It is so shut 
 in by the narrow streets, that one can have little idea of its 
 greatness, even when under its very walls. 
 
 But we lift the leathern curtain and step within the 
 door, and all criticism is hushed in such a presence. As 
 we entered, it was the hour of vespers, which we would 
 not disturb by walking about, and so we stood for some 
 
198 THE MOZARABIC KITE. 
 
 minutes, and then stole softly across the pavement to a 
 chapel in a corner, separated from the rest of the Cathe- 
 dral, to listen to another service, which has a history that 
 dates back not only to the time of the Moors, but of the 
 Goths, who had established themselves in Toledo before 
 the Moors had crossed the Straits of Gibraltar. Here 
 they celebrated Christian worship according to an ancient 
 ritual which has been described as " the connecting link 
 between the rites of the Eastern [or Greek] and Western 
 [or Roman] Church." When at last they were overpow- 
 ered by the Moorish invaders, one of the conditions of 
 surrender was that they should have full liberty of 
 worship according to their faith. The ritual thus retain- 
 ed under Moslem protection, was called the Mozarabic 
 rite. The pledge of the conquerors was faithfully kept, 
 so that for three hundred and fifty years Toledo witnessed 
 the strange spectacle of churches standing side by side 
 with mosques, and Christian worship celebrated within 
 sound of the voice of the muezzin from the minarets 
 calling the faithful to prayer. But when Toledo was 
 reconquered, the new masters were less tolerant than 
 their predecessors, and demanded that the churches 
 should give up their ancient ritual, and adopt a later 
 one that had been duly "revised and improved" by 
 Eome. The Toledons refused, and the dispute waxed so 
 warm, that the parties actually attempted to decide it by 
 personal combat between two champions chosen for the 
 purpose, and again by the " trial by fire," with the usual 
 result that the party which lost found some excuse for 
 refusing to abide by the result ; and so the controversy 
 might have remained unsettled, had not Cardinal Ximenes 
 afterwards taken hold of it with his strong hand, and 
 decided (perhaps not unwilling to show his independence 
 of Rome, for Spanish kings and cardinals sometimes 
 
THE CATHEDRAL. 199 
 
 snubbed the Pope himself) that the churches of Toledo 
 should have the right to worship God according to the 
 way of their fathers, and even left an endowment for the 
 perpetual celebration of their cherished ritual. It was 
 this to which we were now to listen. As we entered the 
 chapel, a number of priests (perhaps a dozen) were chant- 
 ing it with voices loud and lusty, that showed that they 
 were not to be silenced. It was a sight to encourage the 
 hope gf Spanish independence in things temporal as well 
 as ecclesiastical. 
 
 But we must return to the Cathedral, where the 
 vespers are still in progress. Unwilling to disturb them 
 by movement or even by whispers, we sat down on the 
 projecting base of a column, that we might at once see 
 and listen. Looking round, we took in the grand propor- 
 tions of the interior, of which mere figures such as that 
 it is four hundred feet long and two hundred feet wide 
 can give little idea. But take a single object. This 
 column at the foot of which I am sitting, seems to me 
 like one of the Big Trees of California, and yet it is not 
 ungraceful, for this enormous girth is balanced by a corre- 
 sponding height. In the loftiness of the Cathedral, it 
 seems as if its builders had designed, if it must be shut 
 in on the ground, that it should at least find space 
 in the air ; and so they carried it up and up till it soared 
 high above all the roofs of the city, and caught the light 
 from every quarter, from the rising and the setting sun. 
 
 Sitting here and looking up and around, I think how 
 many human lives have gone into the rearing of this 
 majestic pile. Begun in 1227, it was more than two and 
 a half centuries in building, during which the people of 
 Toledo, and of all Spain, watched its rising walls. In this 
 time men were born, grew old and died, leaving the work 
 to their children, who took it up and carried it on all their 
 
200 THE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 lives, so that when at last it stood complete, it was the 
 work, not of one man or of one age, but of many genera- 
 tions. 
 
 This historical association affects me strongly when I 
 enter one of these old cathedrals, and especially at such an 
 hour as this, when the beams of the declining sun stream 
 through the rich stained-glass windows, filling this temple 
 of the Most High with a light which seems to be poured 
 down upon it from the Temple above ; and the mighty 
 anthems rise into the dim arches, and then sink into 
 silence as if dying away upon the heavenly shore. 
 
 If I were writing a book on Cathedrals, I should give a 
 long chapter to that of Toledo, for there is a study in every 
 one of its twenty chapels, each of which has a history in 
 its altars, its pictures, and its tombs, for (as we observed at 
 Burgos) every Spanish cathedral is a kind of Westminster 
 Abbey. "We go from one to another, and then come back 
 to the vast interior, with its five grand naves and eighty- 
 four columns, only to find the first impression renewed 
 and increased. It comes not merely from its size (for there 
 are other cathedrals as large and larger), but from the 
 admirable proportion of the different parts ; and from the 
 elaborate finish which is carried into every sculptured 
 ornament, and every detail in marble or in bronze. It is 
 this combination of all in one that makes the consummate 
 and perfect beauty of the whole. 
 
 As we come out of the Cathedral, we stand face to face 
 with the Palace of the Archbishop, for in Spain Bishops 
 are Princes, and dwell in Palaces. From the beginning 
 of its history Toledo has been what the Hebrews would 
 have called " a city of the Levites." It once received a 
 vis* (-, from the Virgin Mary ( ! ), whose footprint is still 
 sliown on a marble slab in the Cathedral, where it is an 
 object of pious veneration. Thus honored by its heavenly 
 
AX ECCLESIASTICAL CITY. 01 
 
 visitant, Toledo became a kind of holy city, a place of 
 pilgrimage, to which priests flocked in great numbers. At 
 one time it had over a hundred churches, and half as many 
 monasteries and convents. Naturally it became the centre 
 of ecclesiastical domination. Its Archbishop was the Pri- 
 mate of the realm, a position of the greatest dignity and 
 influence, once held by Cardinals Ximenes and Mendoza, 
 who were rulers in the State as well as in the Church. 
 Indeed the latter was called, in the days of Ferdinand and 
 Isabella, the Third King, as he seemed to divide power 
 with royalty itself. This exalted rank the Archbishop of 
 Toledo still retains. He is to this day the Primate of all 
 Spain (while Madrid, until within a year or two, had not 
 so much as a bishop), and is regarded, at least by Span- 
 iards, as second only to the Pope in the Catholic world. 
 
 But here we have made the round of Toledo, and some 
 of my readers may think it is the play of Hamlet with the 
 part of Hamlet left out : for that while I have said so much 
 of churches and palaces of the Cathedral and the Alcazar 
 I have said nothing of the People. The reason is that 
 Toledo was both a royal and an ecclesiastical city ; and 
 that between them royalty and the Church absorbed so 
 much attention as to hide almost all else from view. But 
 for all that, whoever reads Spanish history will find that 
 there was a People of Toledo, that had a life of their own, 
 and a very heroic and determined life, that sometimes 
 gave no small trouble to their kingly and priestly rulers. 
 
 The population of the city was of course limited by its 
 geography. It could not be of great extent, since it was 
 built on a small plateau upon the top of a rock. "With 
 only such a base for its foundation, and a large part of 
 this taken up by palaces and churches and convents, there 
 were but small quarters for those who formed the bulk of 
 the population. Hence there had to be the utmost econo- 
 
202 FORMER SPIRIT OF LIBERTY. 
 
 my of room. Toledo was, like Jerusalem, " builded as a 
 city that is compact together." The streets were for the 
 most part mere lanes, in which one passing on foot could 
 touch both sides, and neighbors could shake hands out of 
 the windows. And yet in this narrow space was one of 
 the densest and busiest populations in Europe, for into it 
 were squeezed no less than two hundred thousand inhabi- 
 tants : and these swarming streets were so many hives of 
 busy bees, for Toledo was the most thriving city of Spain. 
 Nor were these merely toiling masses, for they had 
 a spirit of independence, which they inherited from their 
 Gothic ancestors. Uniting such industry and wealth with 
 such liberty, Toledo seemed at the beginning of the 
 sixteenth century to be not altogether unworthy of the 
 proud boast of John of Padilla, that it was " the crown of 
 Spain, the light of the whole world, that had been free 
 from the time of the mighty Goths." Alas, that its free- 
 dom and its glory were to end together. Its freedom 
 died with him, when his head was laid on the block by 
 order of Charles the Fifth. That was not the beginning 
 of the end, for the beginning had been made by the 
 grandfather of Charles when he expelled the Jews, but 
 it carried the same fatal policy still farther toward the 
 inevitable end a ruin which was completed by the 
 removal of the capital to Madrid. From that time 
 Toledo has had a steady decline, till now it is but the 
 ghost of its former self. From two hundred thousand 
 inhabitants it has dwindled to less than one-tenth that 
 number, and these are poor, while their forefathers were 
 rich. Except the manufacture of Toledo blades, there is 
 scarcely any industry or visible means of support, so that 
 compared with its once crowded state, the city is empty. 
 A few priests in their black cloaks may be seen gliding 
 through the streets as noiselessly as the women that come 
 
THE VI KW AT SUNSET. 203 
 
 out morning and evening to matins and vespers. A few 
 soldiers are on duty here and there in the almost deserted 
 streets, while their officers lounge and smoke before the 
 cafes in the little public square. These, with the usual 
 train of beggars to be found in every Spanish city, are all 
 the signs of life in a city that was once " the crown of 
 Spain, and the light of the whole world." 
 
 But though Toledo may be said to be almost dead and 
 buried, it still has the interest of the past. History can 
 give a charm to crumbling walls and ancient towers. As 
 we strode down the hill and across the old bridge, beneath 
 which the Tagus "nobly foams and flows," we kept turning 
 to look back at the long line of battlements behind which 
 the sun was setting, and which stood up grandly against 
 the evening sky. What a history is written in those old 
 walls ! There is all that remains of a city which has had 
 many masters Eoman, Goth, Moor, and Christian till at 
 last the wave of time seems to have swept past it, leaving 
 it stranded on a rock, but which still, discrowned and 
 desolate, has a melancholy interest even in its ruins. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 THE CITY AND THE MOSQUE OF CORDOVA. 
 
 At last we are off for the South of Spain. Our fort- 
 night in Madrid has been full of interest. We have not 
 only seen another European capital, but have got some 
 insight into another people, and a new idea of their life 
 and character. The Spaniard is no longer an unknown 
 being. We have seen him on his native heath, and have 
 learned to respect his noble qualities, and to appreciate 
 the greatness of his country, as never before. 
 
 Our departure was in the night. So it is that Span- 
 iards are accustomed to come and go. I do not like these 
 hours for travelling. It looks too much as if we were 
 seeking to escape under the cover of darkness, "as men 
 flee away in battle." However, in this wintry season the 
 landscape is brown and drear, and we do not lose so much 
 as if we were visiting Spain in the glorious Springtime or 
 Summer. 
 
 Perhaps if I had been a Spanish caballero, I should 
 have considered it a sufficient compensation for the weari- 
 ness of travelling by night, that we had a very distin- 
 guished fellow-passenger. For some days it had been said 
 that the ex-Queen Isabella, who had been making rather a 
 
QUEEN ISABELLA. 205 
 
 long stay at the Palace, was about to proceed to Seville. 
 There was a time when she would not have been allowed to 
 go about the country so freely ; when indeed she was sent 
 across the frontier with more haste than ceremony. But 
 since the government has become settled, she has no 
 power for mischief, and is allowed to come and go at her 
 pleasure, and so divides her time between Paris and Mad- 
 rid. She likes Spain, and likes to be in a palace. If she 
 cannot be a Queen, it is something to be a Queen-Mother ; 
 and so she makes the best of the situation, taking the 
 second place if she cannot have the first, and figuring as a 
 grand personage at the Court receptions. I hear her spoken 
 of, not only with forbearance, but in a friendly way. In 
 spite of all her misdoings,, the Spaniards seem to like her 
 because of her easy good nature, which, like charity, covers 
 a multitude of sins. One who knows her well tells me 
 that " she's a jolly old soul." That describes her exactly. 
 She is indulgent to the faults of others, considering per- 
 haps how much she has to ask indulgence for her own, 
 though in fact I do not suppose she thinks about the 
 matter : for she is very religious, and makes large gifts 
 to the shrine of the Virgin, and has received the Golden 
 Kose from the Pope as a sign of his special favor and 
 benediction, which makes amends for everything, even 
 though she should break all the Ten Commandments. 
 
 It was something to approach such a royal personage, 
 if it were only by being in the same railway train, although 
 it affected us just now in the way of inconvenience, as it 
 made it somewhat difficult for us to procure tickets, we 
 being told that the whole express train had been taken for 
 Queen Isabella and her suite. However, we found one 
 compartment not engaged, so that we could have the honor 
 (whatever that might be) of travelling in company with 
 royalty, even though it were only royalty dethroned. I 
 
206 A CITY WITHOUT INHABITANTS. 
 
 did not see that it made much difference. There was a 
 little more than the usual stir about the station, where a 
 red carpet was spread across the platform for her dainty 
 feet. Her daughters, the Royal Infantas, were there to say 
 adieu to their mamma ; there was an unusual number of 
 guards in attendance, and the Chamberlain of the Palace 
 walked proudly up and down. But the affair was soon 
 over. The Chamberlain handed her Majesty into the 
 royal carriage, and bowed his last bow ; there was one 
 blast of the bugle, and all on board, Queen and common- 
 ers, moved off into the darkness. From that moment, 
 except the steady rumbling of the train, not a sound broke 
 the stillness of the night. The presence of the Queen 
 attracted no attention at the different places through 
 which we passed. It may have been thought more 
 respectful to leave her to undisturbed repose. Certainly 
 there was one place at which she might wish to sleep 
 soundly, Alcolea, where less than twenty years ago she lost 
 her kingdom and crown. 
 
 Nine miles south of Alcolea we reached our point of 
 destination, CORDOVA. It was in the gray of the morning, 
 and as we rattled over the stony street, the town seemed 
 buried in a grave-like stillness. And indeed after we had 
 reached the "Hotel Suisse," and been warmed by hot 
 coffee taken before a blazing fire, and sallied forth to see 
 the place, we were surprised to find it a city without 
 inhabitants. There are streets, but they are empty ; there 
 are houses with doors and windows, the signs of human 
 habitation ; but where are the people ? But stop I am 
 mistaken : for I see a man ! Yet before I have time to fix 
 him with my eye, he disappears round the corner. It was 
 a priest on his way to the church to say morning mass, 
 and there is a woman bound in the same direction. "We 
 saw several others, but they walked so softly that they 
 
THE MOSQUE. 207 
 
 seemed like ghosts that had come abroad at that early 
 hour to wander among the tombs in a City of the Dead. 
 And this is all that is left of a city that once contained a 
 million of inhabitants ! 
 
 Of its ancient greatness, Cordova retains but a single 
 monument, to which therefore we at once direct our steps. 
 After a long walk through the silent and deserted streets, 
 we come to a wall which, as it is six feet thick and thirty 
 (and in some places sixty) feet high, might be that of a 
 fortress, but which is simply an enclosure for the sacred 
 precincts within. We pass the gates, and find ourselves 
 in a large court filled with orange trees and palms (the first 
 sign that we were getting under the milder skies of Anda- 
 lusia), and tall cypresses, with a fountain playing ; and on 
 the other side a long faade, which has no grand architec- 
 ture to make it imposing. We enter and look around, 
 pausing to take in the proportions of a structure that is 
 unlike any obher in Spain, or indeed in any part of the 
 world. Nothing could be more unlike the Spanish cathe- 
 drals, with their broad aisles and soaring arches. Here 
 the ceiling is only forty feet high, and appears still lower 
 from the vast space which it covers. Nor is it much more 
 like a mosque, as we have seen them in the East. Who- 
 ever has stood under the dome of St. Sophia in Constanti- 
 nople, or in the Mosque of Omar at Jerusalem, and by 
 these formed his idea of what a mosque ought to be, will 
 be disappointed in Cordova : for here is neither arch nor 
 dome, nor any of those perpendicular lines which are 
 thought to be indispensable to grandeur of effect in archi- 
 tecture. 
 
 But if this be neither mosque nor cathedral, what is 
 it ? I answer, It is a forest, a sacred grove. The imita- 
 tion is apparent to every eye. One of the most beautiful 
 objects in nature has furnished the suggestion and the 
 
208 A SACKED GROVE. 
 
 model for one of the grandest works of art. "Why should 
 it not be so ? Why should not a deep and shaded wood, 
 with its recesses and its shadows, furnish the type of a 
 place of seclusion into which men can retire to be in the 
 presence of their Maker ? " The groves were God's first 
 temples," and no more fitting symbol can be found for a 
 temple made with hands. And now, to take in the vast 
 dimensions of the place, imagine four acres of ground, 
 planted with twelve hundred palm trees, which when fully 
 grown are cut off at a heigKt of forty feet, leaving only 
 the tall, straight trunks standing in long lines, and forming 
 a succession of colonnades, all of which are covered with 
 one mighty roof that is the Mosque of Cordova ! 
 
 But surely that cannot be very imposing : it must be 
 as bare and plain as a Quaker meeting-house. But let 
 the palm trees be transformed into twelve hundred col- 
 umns of precious marbles, of jasper and porphyry and 
 verd-antique, and other richly-colored stones, brought 
 from all the shores of the Mediterranean, the spoils of 
 many a palace and temple ; with a pavement of mosaics, 
 and a ceiling richly panelled and gilt ; and let the whole 
 be lighted up at night with a thousand lamps, whose 
 brilliancy is reflected from all the glistening marbles and 
 precious stones, and you have an effect of Oriental splendor. 
 
 Such was the aim of the Moorish King, who laid its 
 foundation just eleven hundred years ago. Cordova was 
 then a great city, the capital of Moorish Spain, and indeed 
 the capital of all Islam in the West, as Bagdad was the 
 capital of Islam in the East, so that the Caliph of Cordova 
 divided with the Caliph of Bagdad the spiritual dominion 
 of the whole Moslem world. But the East had still one 
 great attraction for true believers, whose lives were not 
 complete without a pilgrimage to Mecca. To neutralize 
 this by a counter attraction in the West, a Caliph who was 
 
THE MOSQUE. 209 
 
 wise in his generation determined to make of Cordova a 
 centre of devotion, by erecting here a Temple of Islam 
 that should be to the Moslems of Europe and of Africa, if 
 not of Asia, what St. Peter's at Rome afterwards became 
 to the Catholic world. 
 
 But we are still standing at the door. At the first 
 moment, as you enter, you are bewildered by the maze of 
 columns, and perhaps begin to study the labyrinth to find 
 out its plan. But this critical mood is fatal; its charm 
 will vanish out of your sight, as in music the moment the 
 listener begins to criticise, he ceases to enjoy. If you 
 must study the Mosque of Cordova, reserve that till after- 
 wards : for the first hour give yourself up to it, and you 
 will find that it is all, and more than all, that you had 
 conceived. Instead of going directly to its central nave, 
 rather draw away from it into the more retired distances ; 
 into the soft, cool shadows ; and } r ou will soon be subdued 
 to a feeling in harmony with the place, and find a delicious 
 sweetness in its solitude. And this, after all, is its pecu- 
 liar charm the stillness which comes from vastness. Its 
 spaces are so great that one worshipper does not tread 
 upon another. Yonder is a stranger pausing before a 
 chapel, but he is so far away that you cannot hear his 
 footsteps or the sound of his voice. Even though there 
 should be a sudden irruption of barbarians, in the shape 
 of a crowd of foreign tourists, eager, loud, and noisy, they 
 need not disturb you : for you can move away into the 
 distance, where all is still. From this comes the singular 
 restfulness of the place. It is like the shadow of a great 
 rock in a weary land. 
 
 No doubt in the climate of Andalusia, in the heat of 
 Summer, this place of coolness this groved-temple or 
 templed-grove was often sought as a refuge from the 
 noontide heat. Under its shades the sun could not smite 
 
210 CHURCH IN THE CENTRE. 
 
 by day. This rest of the body induced quiet of the mind, 
 and prepared it for meditation and for prayer. Thus 
 soothed and calmed, we can imagine how, in the ancient 
 days, the long-bearded Moslems turned their faces towards 
 Mecca and bowed themselves and worshipped. 
 
 Of course we cannot enter into all the moods of those 
 who knelt on these pavements a thousand years ago, but 
 we can appreciate as we walk through these long aisles, 
 how sweet and sacred, in any age and in any country, 
 must be such a retreat from the glare of day and the noise 
 of the world, into which the troubled heart can withdraw 
 itself, as into a secret pavilion of the Almighty. 
 
 I had been wandering about for some time in what 
 might be considered the outer courts of the temple, when 
 in looking across the central nave, I observed something 
 which intercepted the view, and on approaching discover- 
 ed that it was nothing less than a church, dropped down 
 in the very heart of the vast spaces around it. The story 
 of this extraordinary introduction is well known how the 
 canons of the cathedral petitioned Charles the Fifth for 
 liberty to remove over a hundred of the columns in the 
 centre of the Mosque, in order to erect a church in its 
 place, to which the Emperor, always ready to listen to the 
 priests, gave his consent ; but when, years after, he came 
 to see what they had done, he was immeasurably disgusted, 
 and without taking the blame to himself for his rash per- 
 mission, rated them soundly for having thrust in here what 
 they could have built anywhere, while " they had destroy- 
 ed what was unique in the world." If the poor priests who 
 made this change, could have heard the execrations which 
 have been heaped upon their memories for three centuries, 
 they would beg that the church might be devoted to the 
 offering of perpetual masses for their wretched souls. And 
 yet, while sharing in the feeling of disgust and indignation. 
 
THE OLD ROMAN BRIDGE. 211 
 
 I must add that the change affected me less painfully than 
 I feared. The Mosque is so immense, that even the intru- 
 sion of a church does not very perceptibly diminish the 
 space ; at least it does not have the appearance of 
 crowding which it would have in less ample surroundings. 
 And as I listened to the ancient litanies, which in spite of 
 all changes still proclaim the glory of Christ, it was good 
 to hear that blessed name echoed and reechoed where 
 once none but Moslems heard the call to prayer. 
 
 We left the mosque with a deep impression of what is 
 certainly, as Charles the Fifth said, " unique in the world," 
 and walked slowly down to the banks of the Guadalquivir, 
 and across the old Koman bridge by which it is still span- 
 ned. From its central arch one gets an outside view of 
 the town, and cannot well forbear some reflections on its 
 eventful history. It is said that the idea of writing the 
 Decline and Fall of the Koman Empire, was suggested to 
 Gibbon as he listened to the monks chanting vespers in 
 the Church of the Ara Cceli, on the Capitoline Hill in 
 Home. Had he stood on the bridge of Cordova at sunset, 
 he might have found a subject less grand indeed, but not 
 unworthy of his pen, in the Eise and Fall of the Moorish 
 Empire in Spain. Cordova indeed had an existence long 
 before it was captured by the Moors, or even by the 
 Romans. As soon as emigration from the East began to 
 flow into Spain, it was attracted to the valley of the 
 Guadalquivir, and here rose a city which the Carthagin- 
 ians called "the gem of the South." When Spain formed 
 part of the Roman Empire, Cordova was rich and popu- 
 lous. Here Lucan the poet and Seneca the philosopher 
 were born, and Seneca's brother, Gallio, the procurator of 
 Achaia. He is the only Spaniard whose name is men- 
 tioned in the Bible ; and though he is but a passing 
 figure, yet he made one memorable utterance, when he de- 
 
212 GREATNESS UNDER THE MOORS. 
 
 clared that the government had not to mix itself with ques- 
 tions of religion, and thus saved the Apostle Paul, and 
 gave him the leisure in Corinth to write the Epistle to the 
 Romans. Julius Csesar describes the fortifications of 
 Cordova, and how strong they were he had reason to 
 know when he laid siege to the city, which had taken the 
 side of Pompey ; and he must have been angered by its 
 heroic resistance, to have massacred 28,000 of its inhab- 
 itants in cold blood! A city thus decimated was half 
 destroyed. Yet after this Cordova was rebuilt and reset- 
 tled by the Romans. But its greatest glory was to come, 
 not from them, but from another race that crossed into 
 Spain from Africa. Under the Moors it grew to enormous 
 proportions. From the ninth century that is, after the 
 great mosque was built to the twelfth, it is said to have 
 had a million of inhabitants. Its commerce extended to 
 all parts of the Mediterranean, and indeed of the civilized 
 world. It was a seat of learning to which came students 
 from every part of Europe to obtain what they could not 
 find in the universities of France or Germany. 
 
 Who shall tell the story of its decline and fall ? Here, 
 as in many of the cities of Spain, we may find the answer 
 in the towers of the Inquisition, which cast their gloomy 
 shadows over the Guadalquivir. Nothing ever devised 
 by the wit and wickedness of man, was so fitted to kill the 
 life of a great people. A few generations of that heroic 
 treatment, and the life-blood had flowed from the nation's 
 veins till its very face had become livid with the signs of 
 death. Cities and provinces were depopulated, till a coun- 
 try that had forty millions of people in the time of the 
 Romans, has to-day less than seventeen. If plague, pesti- 
 lence, and famine had been let loose upon unhappy Spain, 
 it could not have been more effectually destroyed than it 
 was by the paternal government of its Catholic kings. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 THE ALHAMBRA THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOR. 
 
 From Cordova it is but three hours to Seville, and it 
 would seem the thing to do, to step from one to the other. 
 But sometimes " the longest way round is the shortest way 
 home." Just now I had two places in my eye Seville and 
 Granada : and, looking ahead, the question was not where 
 I should go first, but where I should come out last, as 
 the more convenient for the departure from Spain. My 
 "objective points" (to use for once an expression which I 
 hate ; which I never used before, and never will again) 
 were Gibraltar and Africa ; and I took Granada first, that 
 I might return to Seville on the way to Cadiz to embark 
 for Gibraltar. What if I should have to come back over a 
 part of my course, so long as it was but going up and down 
 in Andalusia, the garden of Spain ? So, instead of a short 
 and easy ride to Seville, we turned our faces to the East, 
 and travelled all the afternoon, and into the night, to reach 
 Granada. 
 
 What an afternoon was that ! We were getting into 
 the sunny South of Spain. Although it was still " bleak 
 December," the earth seemed to feel from afar the coming 
 of the Spring. The land before us was like the garden of 
 
214 ANDALUSIA. 
 
 the Lord. If the Israelites could boast of Palestine as " a 
 land flowing with milk and honey," what would they have 
 said if they could have looked across the Jordan into 
 Andalusia, with its plains like those of Sharon and Esdra- 
 elon ; with its vineyards and olive-yards, its orchards and 
 orange groves and all under brighter skies and a more 
 Southern sun? For miles and miles we rode through 
 one continuous succession of olive trees, which pour forth 
 literally rivers of oil. The hedges of cactus remind the 
 traveller of Palestine, as the villages perched on the 
 hill-tops remind him of Italy. In Spain, as in Italy, the 
 villages were for the most part begun in troubled times, 
 when a site for human habitation had to be chosen with 
 regard to its position for defence. Such were the features 
 of the landscapes which passed before us all that after- 
 noon, until night shut in the scene. 
 
 It was ten o'clock when we ran into a station, which 
 had about it nothing peculiarly Moorish or Spanish, but 
 was as dull and common-place as any in the back- woods 
 of America. Nor was there anything romantic in the 
 rickety omnibus, in which we rattled over the stony 
 streets of Granada. How could Ferdinand and Isabella 
 spend the resources of a kingdom in fighting for a place 
 so unattractive as this? 
 
 But at length we came to the foot of a hill, and began 
 to ascend. All was silent save the creaking of the wheels, 
 and we could see but faintly, although enough to perceive 
 a dark shadow falling across our path as we rode under 
 an archway, at which a fellow-passenger whispered that 
 we were entering the gates of the Alhambra. Still climb- 
 ing upward, we found ourselves in a long avenue arched 
 with elms, through which the stars shone but dimly, when 
 suddenly the unwieldy vehicle came to a stand at the 
 door of the Washington Irving Hotel. 
 
WASHINGTON IRVING HOTEL. 215 
 
 It is sometimes well to enter a strange place in the 
 night, as it hangs a veil of mystery over the unseen, leav- 
 ing it to the imagination, which is a mighty enchanter, 
 and the reality breaks upon us only when the mind has 
 been wound up to the due pitch of excitement by its own 
 fancies and dreams. 
 
 As I am always on the lookout for these sweet surprises, 
 I asked the landlord to give me his best room, not so 
 much for sleeping as for sight-seeing, and was accordingly 
 inducted into an apartment, which with the adjoining 
 bedroom, had no less than five large windows, that gave 
 a double outlook : on one side into the grounds of the 
 Alhambra, while on the other I should be able to see the 
 sun rise over the snowy heights of the Sierra Nevada. 
 
 So much for romance : now for creature comforts. 
 "If you please, Sir, we will have a blazing fire, to remind 
 us of home, and a steaming pot of tea," more refreshing 
 after such a long ride than all the spices which ever distil- 
 led their perfumes for the former masters of the Alhambra. 
 Thus warmed and filled, we lay down " to sleep perchance 
 to dream," for who could help dreaming in a place haunted 
 by such memories ? The wind was sighing through the 
 trees, mingled with a sound from which the Alhambra is 
 never free, of the waters that burst out of the hillside and 
 course along the avenue before our windows. In the 
 Spring-time the woods are full of nightingales ; but now 
 that it is Winter, they are silent, yet with nothing to 
 break the stillness but "the voice of streams" and the 
 moaning of the wind, there is enough to keep us in a 
 dreamy mood all night long ; and so between sleeping 
 and waking, we get a broken rest, " waiting for the day." 
 
 At length it came, and as soon as we had our coffee, 
 we were on our feet, entering the enchanted ground. 
 Taking our way through the Gate of Justice, at which in 
 
216 THE PLAItf OF GRANADA. 
 
 the old Moorish times the judges sat to administer the 
 law according to the Koran, we continued upward to an 
 open ground on the crest of the hill. In visiting a hi 
 place, I find it a good rule to begin by seeking 
 high point from which to take in a general view before 
 descending to details. In this way I get the points of 
 compass. In the Alhambra the best view i> o 1 . named 
 from an old tower at the extreme end of the hill. 
 Ascending to the roof, the e pe over the whole 
 
 horizon. Below, at our feet, lies the city of * 
 while beyond it the vega or plain stretches for thirty miles 
 to the foot of the mountains. The view is very extensive, 
 and extremely beautiful because of - the shadows which the 
 mountains and the flying clouds cast over this sea of ver- 
 dure. The landscape is such as one may see not infre- 
 quently in Southern California, where a broad plain is 
 shut in by mountain ranges, over which it is a perpetual 
 delight to watch the rising and setting of the sun. 
 
 To one familiar with the story of the Conquest of 
 Granada, as told by "Washington Irving, this vega is full 
 of points of historic interest. Yonder was pitched the 
 camp of Ferdinand and Isabella ; here the Spanish army 
 advanced to the attack ; and across the plain the Moors 
 "took their melancholy way," and from the summit of a 
 distant hill turned to gaze for the last time at the scene of 
 so much grandeur and glory, from which it still bears the 
 sadly poetic name of " The Last Sigh of the Moor." 
 
 Turning from the vega to the point on which we stand. 
 we see how completely the former is commanded by the 
 height, which rises abruptly and with a lordly air, as if 
 nature intended it to rule what it looks down upon. 
 Imagine such a hjll half a mile long, enclosed by the walls 
 oa fortress, above which lofty towers rise here and there, 
 and you have the old Moorish castle as it appears from 
 
PALACE OF CHARLES THE FIFTH. 217 
 
 the city of Granada, and from far off on the surrounding 
 plain. 
 
 But while all this is very interesting, we begin to get 
 impatient, and at last ask, " Wttere is the Alhambra ? " What 
 we have seen so far is like any other Castle of the Middle 
 Ages, picturesque indeed, but not more so than many a 
 Castle on the Khine. The Alhambra was all that, but 
 much more Fortress and Palace in one and what we 
 are looking for is the old Moorish Palace, of which we 
 have read from our childhood as so marvellous in its 
 architecture and its decoration. As we turn to the 
 grounds within the walls, we see a Palace indeed, vast in 
 size and great in pretension, but which is not Moorish, 
 and is not even completed ; which somebody must have 
 "begun to build, and not been able to finish," as it stands 
 with its gateways wide open (for indeed they have never 
 been closed), its windows unglazed, and its pavilions 
 unroofed, all open to the sky. This is the famous Palace 
 of Charles V., who authorized the Canons of Cordova to 
 tear down a hundred columns of the Mosque to erect a 
 church in their place, and then upbraided them for what 
 they did solely by his permission ; and yet who himself 
 violated all the proprieties quite as much by removing 
 part of the Alhambra to introduce what, amid such 
 surroundings, is a monstrosity. 
 
 However, one purpose it does serve. In its present 
 condition of naked deformity roofless, doorless, and 
 windowless it is no unfit type of Spain as Charles V. and 
 his son and heir, Philip IL, left it : a mere shell, gaunt, 
 hollow, and empty, eviscerated of the best elements of 
 national life those high and manly qualities which come 
 only with freedom. As such a type, the desolate Palace 
 may stand, a monument of the wreck and ruin wrought 
 by kings who were the destroyers of their country. 
 
218 THE ALHAMBRA. 
 
 As this unfinished structure fills up the foreground so 
 as to throw everything else into the shade, we scarcely 
 notice, half-concealed behind it, the outer wall of a group 
 of low buildings, that would be taken for the offices appro- 
 priated to the servants of the Palace, and are completely 
 " dumbfounded " when told that there is the Alhambra ! 
 
 We advance incredulous, prepared for a terrible disap- 
 pointment ; but as we enter, we find that in architecture, 
 as in human character, the exterior and the interior do 
 not always correspond. The instant we pass within, we 
 are out of Spain, and in the gorgeous East in Damascus 
 or Cairo, in Agra or Delhi. The general plan of the 
 Alhambra is that of a series of courts, of which the most 
 famous is the Court of Lions, but all of which, whether 
 larger or smaller, are laid out on one model, round an 
 open square, in the centre of which is a fountain. The 
 fountain is an indispensable feature, giving something of 
 its life and grace to cold, gray walls. The fountains of the 
 Alhambra, fed from the adjacent hills, in the old times 
 were supplied with abundance of water, which sparkled in 
 the air of every court, filling the place with its constant 
 murmur, and tempering with a delicious coolness the heat 
 of Summer. Sometimes, as in the Court of the Myrtles, 
 the open space is filled with trees, the myrtle, the orange, 
 and the tall, majestic cypress ; and running round the 
 four sides of the square is a pillared portico, with passages 
 opening into large Halls, such as the Hall of Ambassadors ; 
 or into the private apartments of the Sovereign, or the 
 more secluded chambers, which must be very numerous 
 for the women of an Eastern household. Underneath are 
 the spacious baths, one of the first conditions of Oriental 
 luxury. This general plan does not differ from that of 
 other Eastern palaces, to which the Alhambra is superior 
 only in the elaboration of its details, in which are employed 
 
SARACENIC ARCHITECTURE. 219 
 
 all the devices of Saracenic architecture, such as the horse- 
 shoe arches so often seen in Turkish mosques, resting on 
 columns so slender that the mass above them almost hangs 
 in air ; with the decoration of the interior, in which the 
 ceilings are fretted and honey-combed till they almost 
 float above you like canopies of lace an illusion completed 
 by the walls covered with vines, whose tendrils are so fine 
 and delicate, and so interwoven with each other, as to give 
 to one of these interiors the appearance of an Eastern 
 bower. 
 
 If I was not, however, quite so much overpowered by 
 the Alhambra at first sight as some younger and more 
 romantic travellers, it was because I had already seen its 
 like in another part of the world. Bayard Taylor once 
 said to me that the Alhambra was not to be compared 
 with certain temples and mosques in India, an opinion in 
 which, having seen both, I fully agree. When the Great 
 Mogul reigned in Delhi, and sat on his Peacock Throne, 
 blazing with jewels of priceless value, he was surrounded 
 with a wealth and magnificence never possessed by the 
 Moorish kings of Spain. Nor does any monument or 
 mausoleum here, or in all Europe, equal the matchless 
 beauty of the Taj, the jewel of Asia. 
 
 But laying aside comparisons, it needs but a few hours 
 to discover that the Alhambra is worthy of all its fame. 
 We see it at a disadvantage, for what remains is but the 
 fragment of what it once was. Besides the part torn 
 down by Charles V. to make room for his ill placed and 
 never finished Palace, it had been before his time, as it 
 has been since, the prey of the spoiler, doming into the 
 hands of masters who little appreciated its marvellous 
 beauty, it was mutilated and defaced : in many cases its 
 arabesques were covered with plaster, so that its walls 
 were left naked and bare, stripped of the grace they once 
 
220 SIX HUNDRED TEARS AGO. 
 
 possessed. Thus dismantled and discrowned, it is difficult 
 to get an idea of what the Alhambra really was in the 
 days of its splendor. Some of its most striking parts are 
 quite detached from the main structures. A German 
 photographer, who lives in the grounds, and has made a 
 study of the Alhambra for his pictures, in which he shows 
 the taste of an artist, took us to several towers one of 
 which was for the Sultana perched at a great height 
 above the valley of the Darro, from the windows of which 
 the view without was as beautiful as the interior was 
 exquisite. Of course all is now desolate and dreary. 
 But six centuries ago this was the residence of a court, 
 and the scene of boundless luxury, when the pavements, 
 now so hard and cold, were covered with the softest of 
 Eastern fabrics for gentle feet, while slaves glided along 
 the corridors with noiseless footsteps. Then, as the beau- 
 ties of the harem sat in their high towers and looked out 
 of their latticed windows, the outer world seemed far 
 away ; all things were softened in the airy distance ; 
 mountains melted in the golden sunset, or were bathed in 
 the moonlight. So was it that contact with rude realities 
 was spared to these secluded beings, who were lifted up 
 so high that the world lay far below them, and no sound 
 came up to them save the rapid rushing of the river in 
 the valley beneath. They lived in a world of their own, 
 in which existence, without care and with every desire for 
 pleasure gratified, was one long dream. With such beauty 
 on every side, and such life animating these now deserted 
 halls, we can well believe that the Alhambra was an abode 
 of luxury such as was not to be found elsewhere on the 
 earth. 
 
 But it was not given up merely to soft delights and 
 idle dalliances : it was a seat of government. If the 
 Palace itself were limited in extent, it is probable that 
 
RESTORATION OF THE ALHAMBRA. 221 
 
 the buildings connected with it, with the intervening 
 courts and gardens, covered the whole plateau, in which 
 there was the population of a small imperial city. Here 
 in the Hall of Ambassadors the Moorish King received 
 the representatives of foreign powers. Perhaps the old 
 fortress-palace was at times the centre of intrigues and 
 conspiracies. So it must have been, if we are to believe 
 the tragic story that in the Hall of the Abencerrages 
 thirty-two of that royal race were in one day butchered 
 in cold blood, whose red stain not all the water of the 
 ever-flowing fountain could wash away. 
 
 Although the Alhambra has had a hard fate at the 
 hands of its many spoilers, it is pleasant to record that 
 which has been done to restore it to something of its 
 ancient beauty. Naturally the pride of the government 
 and people was concerned to preserve the most interest- 
 ing historical monument in all Spain, and forty years ago 
 Senor Rafael Contreras was appointed its "Governor." 
 In competence for the task which it imposed, he had no 
 superior nor equal, and for all these years he has labored 
 not only to preserve what remains of the Aihambra, but 
 in some degree to restore it "With infinite care he has 
 removed the encrustations of plaster with which barba- 
 rians had covered the precious designs, and in many cases 
 has supplied parts which were wanting with such skill, 
 that it is difficult to distinguish them from the originals. 
 Even the richness of coloring, which in almost all instances 
 had faded out of the old walls, he has to some extent 
 reproduced, if not in the Alb am bra itself, in the models 
 which he has constructed in his studio in which young 
 artists may find abundant materials for a School of Deco- 
 ration ; and travellers who are interested in calling the 
 forms of the buried past out of their graves, may have the 
 means to reconstruct the dwelling-place- of the Moorish 
 
222 MOORISH CIVILIZATION. 
 
 kings as it was when all these courts and halls were 
 enriched with every kind of decoration ; when the slender 
 columns were wreathed with vines and flowers ; when the 
 walls were covered with arabesques, and inlaid with pre- 
 cious stones ; and the ceilings reflected the light of a 
 thousand lamps from their myriad points touched with 
 gold. Thus studied, the Alhambra is a lesson in history, 
 which gives us a new idea of the Moorish civilization ; of 
 the progress which this wonderful people had made in 
 science and art, and of the refinement of their manner of 
 life, in all which they may bear a comparison with the 
 most cultivated nations of Europe. 
 
 To the thorough knowledge of this subject, no man 
 has contributed so much as Senor Contreras, who has 
 made it the study of a life-time. Living in the Alhambra 
 for forty years, he has had before him the most perfect 
 specimen of Moorish art, and has been constantly surprised 
 by the manifestations of the knowledge and skill of the 
 Moors, as the fruit of which he has written a large octavo 
 volume devoted wholly to their arts and industries, their 
 manners and customs, and their institutions of learning 
 and religion.* The book is a revelation in regard to a 
 race to which few historians have done justice. 
 
 For proof of their skill as cultivators of the soil, it is 
 enough to look at the plain which surrounds this city of 
 Granada. The Moors were the best agriculturists of their 
 time. They introduced the system of irrigation, by which 
 the water coming from the mountains was turned into 
 artificial channels, and distributed to innumerable planta- 
 tions, a system which is still continued, for the best of all 
 reasons, that it is impossible to devise a better. On the 
 old tower of the Alhambra hangs a bell which is rung 
 
 * SOUVENIRS OF THE BULE OF THE ARABS IN SPAIN : Its Tradi- 
 ditions, Arts, &c. Published in Granada, 
 
GENERAL PROSPERITY. 223 
 
 every night at half-past eight, and at short intervals all 
 night long, as a signal to those far and near of the hour at 
 which they can turn on the water that is running in a 
 thousand streams all over the vega. Thus none of it is 
 wasted, and yet all are abundantly supplied. By this 
 prudent economy of the element on which production 
 depends, the vega is made to yield three or four crops a 
 year. 
 
 Agriculture is the basis of the prosperity of a country. 
 Wealth derived from the soil soon stimulates other indus- 
 tries. The Moors became skilful artificers in the precious 
 metals, in gold and silver, and in brass and iron. With 
 this general prosperity grew a taste for science and know- 
 ledge of every kind. Having builded towns and cities, 
 they founded Universities, and were for centuries the 
 masters of learning in Europe. All these elements were 
 combined to produce the consummate flower of Moorish 
 civilization. 
 
 With such evidences of the flourishing condition of the 
 kingdom of the Moors ; seeing how far advanced they 
 were in all the arts of peace ; one cannot help asking if 
 their expulsion from a country which they had made so 
 rich and prosperous, was not a loss which was but poorly 
 compensated by the Spaniards who succeeded them ? 
 
 To this question there could be but one answer if it 
 were not complicated with another, the question of 
 religion. The war between the Spaniard and the Moor is 
 assumed to have been chiefly, if not exclusively, a war 
 between the Crescent and the Cross. This is taken for 
 granted not only by Spanish historians, but by those of 
 England and even of America. Washington Irving writes 
 of the Conquest of Granada as if it were the great epic of 
 Spain, made glorious by exploits of knightly chivalry in 
 the most sacred of all causes. Of these associations it is 
 
224 WAR OF THE SPANIARD AND THE MOOR 
 
 hard to divest ourselves so as to judge the matter in the 
 clear, cold light of reason and of truth. 
 
 So far as the chivalry goes, all that he has written is 
 true. Eegarded solely as an exhibition of martial prowess, 
 the war between the Spaniard and the Moor was one of 
 the most notable events in European history. It lasted 
 for nearly eight hundred years. It was handed down 
 from sire to son, from generation to generation ; and 
 though often interrupted by a temporary truce, it was as 
 often renewed, and fought on and on to the bitter end, 
 with an endurance which showed that both races were of 
 heroic blood. So far it is a history of which Spaniard and 
 Moor might alike be proud. But we are not allowed to 
 stop here, but must accept it as a Holy War, waged in the 
 blessed name of Christ. If this be so, of course all our 
 sympathies are on the side of our religion. But may we 
 not have been too hasty in accepting this as something 
 not to be denied ? I do not put forward my own opinion 
 as of any value in determining a historical question of 
 such moment, but I do give weight to tlie opinions pf 
 scholars who have devoted years to its study, especially 
 when they are at once good Spaniards and good Catholics. 
 
 In the city of Madrid there is not a more honored 
 name than that of Senor Biaiio, who is not only a Senator, 
 but a man learned in Spanish history, and the associate of 
 the learned men of the capital. When Mr. Lowell was 
 the American Minister in Madrid, it was at this house 
 that he was most at home, since here he found not only a 
 charming domestic circle, but that society of literary and 
 scientific men which was most congenial to his tastes. 
 Yet this Spanish Senator and scholar did not hesitate to 
 say that he thought the expulsion of the Moors had been 
 an immeasurable calamity to Spain. 
 
 The only authority higher than this that I can think 
 
NOT A WAR OF RELIGION. 225 
 
 of, is that of Senor Contreras himself, to whom Senor 
 Riafio gave me a letter when I came to Granada. In our 
 conversation he made no private disclosures, but said to 
 me only what he would say to any one ; so that I do not 
 feel that I violate any confidence in giving others the 
 benefit of an opinion which comes from a source so distin- 
 guished, and which was expressed without the slightest 
 reserve. This I will give as nearly as I can in his own 
 words. He said : 
 
 "No history had been made the subject of more 
 romance than that of the war between the Spaniards and 
 the Moors. It had been represented as a "War of Relig- 
 ions a holy crusade to subdue an unbelieving people to 
 the faith. But he could not look upon it at all in that 
 light. He did not think that^ it was inspired by any such 
 exalted impulse, but by a much more sordid motive. If 
 the whole truth were told, he believed that its animating 
 spirit was one of selfish greed. The reasons for his belief 
 were obvious. Andalusia was the richest part of Spain. 
 The Centre and the North were but thinly inhabited, the 
 population being confined chiefly to the seacoast. But 
 in the South was a countiy naturally fertile, and which 
 the Moors, with their careful industry, had made as rich 
 as the Valley of the Nile. This was in tempting contrast 
 to the bleak uplands of Castile and Arragon, and it was 
 not strange that the descendants of the Goths should cast 
 a covetous eye on these rich plains of the South. Why 
 should this paradise remain in the hands of unbelievers ? 
 To drive them out and get possession of their country, 
 was the object of the Spaniards in their perpetual wars. 
 No doubt they were inflamed with a fiery zeal to convert 
 the Moors, but they were not at all scrupulous about the 
 means of their conversion. War answered their purpose 
 better than preaching the GospeL What they wanted 
 
226 EXODUS OF THE CONQUERED. 
 
 most was not the spiritual good of the Moslems, but their 
 towns and cities, their houses and gardens and well- 
 watered fields. They were much more anxious to get 
 possession of the lands of the Moors than to save their 
 souls." 
 
 This is strong language, but it is fully justified by 
 history. Eeligion was but the pretext of wars which were 
 not holy, but im-holy, and all the worse because of tho 
 false pretence under which they were masked. It is r, 
 burlesque of history to represent them as in any true 
 sense religious. As well might we claim that our wars 
 against the unhappy Indian tribes were undertaken for 
 missionary purposes. How false and base was Ferdinand, 
 the Catholic King who conquered Granada, he showed at 
 the siege of Malaga, when he took from his captives their 
 jewels and their gold as a ransom, and afterwards sold 
 them into slavery a treachery which alone is enough to 
 brand his name with infamy. 
 
 At last the Moors were expelled from a country in 
 which they were not thought fit to live. They had not 
 even the privilege accorded to other conquered peoples, to 
 remain in the land which their industry had made rich, 
 but were driven out without mercy. Then began a 
 procession of misery such as the world has seldom seen, 
 when fathers and mothers with their little children left 
 their homes, and took up their march for the sea, over 
 which they were transported to the Barbary Coast, there 
 to perish miserably on the shores of Africa. 
 
 Was this a victory for the Cross ? No indeed ; the 
 religion of our Divine Master is not to be made responsi- 
 ble for such crimes as this. It was a victory for tyranny, 
 oppression, and cruelty. It was an act of national suicide, 
 from which Spain has not recovered to this day. Spanish 
 historians may try to apologize for the cruel deed, and to 
 
THE LAST SIGH OF THE MOOR. 227 
 
 make out that it was not a great national calamity ; yet 
 the fact remains, that under the Moors, Andalusia was 
 more prosperous and more populous than ever before, or 
 since. No such exodus has taken place in any country 
 since the Israelites went out of Egypt. Andalusia was 
 half depopulated. Granada had then half a million of 
 inhabitants : to-day it has but seventy thousand. Cordova 
 had a million of people : to-day it is a city of the dead ! 
 
 This was not a pleasant conclusion to our reflections 
 on the Alhambra, but melancholy as it is, it is better to 
 see things as they are, than in the false light of romance, 
 which in leading to wrong judgments, prepares the way 
 for future errors. As we left the house of Senor Contre- 
 ras, we turned our steps once more to the old tower of the 
 Alhambra, to take a last look over the vega. The sun had 
 just sunk behind the distant mountains, but the west was 
 still aflame with the glory of the dying day. Above, the 
 sky was of the deepest blue. At that sunset hour, and in 
 that soft evening light, the broad expanse below seemed 
 as if it might be a meeting ground for men of all races 
 and all creeds, where they could dwell together in peace, 
 and learn war no more. 
 
 Looking across the plain, where once the dusky chil- 
 dren of the East sat under their vines and their fig-trees, 
 who could help mourning their unhappy fate ? On the 
 horizon we saw distinctly the hill-top from which they 
 turned to take their farewell of the Alhambra, and recall- 
 ing what we had just heard, we could not but recognize 
 the melancholy truth that "the last sigh of the Moor" 
 was the last sigh of a splendid civilization, which then 
 departed never to return. 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 THE ARCHBISHOP OF GRANADA. 
 
 In my wanderings about the world, it has been my lot 
 to be brought in contact with all sorts and conditions of 
 men men of all countries, speaking all languages ; and 
 men of all Churches and creeds, worshipping God in 
 many forms ; and I have found good in them all. In this 
 varied experience I have made the discovery (which, 
 though not new, every one has to make for himself) that 
 true greatness of character belongs not to one caste, but 
 to men of every race and clime ; and nothing gives me so 
 much pleasure as to cross the lines, and grasp the hand of 
 one from whom I am widely separated. And so it is that, 
 Protestant as I am, I come to pay my tribute to a digni- 
 tary of the Roman Catholic Church for his heroic courage 
 in the relief of human suffering. 
 
 Before I left America for my recent visit to Spain, I 
 said to my dear and honored friend, the late President 
 Hitchcock, that as I was going to a Catholic country, I 
 hoped I might meet some good representatives of its 
 religion. I had heard a great deal said against the 
 Church of Spain ; that it was given up to forms and 
 superstitions ; and that its priests were of a low type 
 
THE INTRODUCTION. 229 
 
 intellectually and morally, being generally ignorant, and 
 not ^infrequently immoral. " But surely," I said, " among 
 so many hundreds and thousands there must be some 
 priests and bishops who are both learned and devout." 
 Yet I did not find much encouragement to seek such 
 acquaintance. Even an eminent Roman Catholic of 
 America, who had gone to Spain with the same purpose 
 in view, told me that he had found little to reward his 
 search ; and predicted that I " would have my trouble 
 for my pains." This was discouraging, and I might have 
 come away with the same impression, had I not had the 
 good fortune in Madrid to know a lady who is equally at 
 home in English and in Spanish society, and who is herself 
 a devout Catholic, to whom I expressed my desire, when 
 she at once replied, "My husband (a Senator of Spain) 
 will give you a letter to the Archbishop of Granada, who 
 distinguished himself so greatly last year in the cholera." 
 I accepted the courtesy, and after a visit to the Alhambra, 
 came down into the old city of Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 and made my way to the Archiepiscopal palace. In Spain 
 it would be thought unworthy of the dignity of an Arch- 
 bishop if he did not live in a palace : and so I was not 
 surprised to be conducted up a grand staircase into an 
 ante-room, where a number of persons were waiting for an 
 audience. As " Monseigneur " was engaged, I was kept 
 waiting half an hour, and fearing that he might be occu- 
 pied all the afternoon, I proposed to leave my respects 
 and retire, but the attendant who had taken my card and 
 the introduction, begged me to wait a little longer, appa- 
 rently fearing that he should be reproved if he allowed 
 me to depart, for he kept saying " "What should I do with 
 this letter?" 
 
 At length the door opened, and I was ushered into the 
 presence of a man a little turned of sixty, who as he rose 
 
230 A TRIBUTE TO PROTESTANTS. 
 
 to receive me, showed a manly figure, a little inclined to 
 stoutness, which he described pleasantly as vieillesse antici- 
 pee. But a slight touch of age only gave added dignity to 
 his presence, especially when above it shone a countenance 
 as kindly and benignant as I ever saw. He said that 
 Senor Eiano had already written of my coming, and that 
 he was glad to see me, not only as the friend of his friend, 
 but as a stranger and an American. Nor did his pleasure 
 seem in the least abated by the fact that I was a Protest- 
 ant. About this I had no reserve or disguise, for I did 
 not intend to appear under false colors. But I could 
 say truly that I knew many Catholics, among whom were 
 some who were not only dear to me as friends, but men of 
 such elevation of character that I held them in the highest 
 honor. 
 
 To this he replied in the same spirit. Though he 
 believed in the Holy Catholic Church as the one body of 
 Christ, it by no means followed that all the good were 
 included even within its extensive pale. He knew many 
 Protestants who were not only good citizens and good 
 neighbors, but exemplary Christians, and said, " I would 
 take off my hat to a Protestant, who is a man of sincere 
 conviction and consistent life. 3 ' 
 
 He is a native of Malaga, which is the residence of 
 many foreign merchants, so that the sight of Englishmen 
 in the streets is not so rare as in some cities of Spain. 
 This better acquaintance softened prejudice and won 
 respect. He spoke particularly of the late English Consul 
 as one of the most excellent of men ; and of the ladies of 
 his family as known in all Malaga, not only for the sweet- 
 ness and gentleness which might be expected of refined 
 Englishwomen, but for their kindness to the poor and the 
 sick, and their innumerable charities ; and indeed " they 
 were patterns of all the Christian virtues." 
 
THE EARTHQUAKE IN GRANADA. 231 
 
 I asked the Archbishop about his experience in the 
 cholera, to which he answered with great modesty, saying 
 that " he had only done his duty," as if that was not just 
 the thing which most of us fail to do. It was only at a 
 second interview (for he pressed me earnestly to come 
 again), after I had heard from others of his heroic conduct, 
 that I was able to make my inquiries more intelligently, 
 and to elicit fuller information. 
 
 I learned that within the past two years Granada had 
 suffered from two of the greatest calamities that can visit 
 a city : an earthquake and the cholera. The earthquake 
 took place about Christmas, 1884. It came without pre- 
 monition : with no preceding tremor of the earth or dark- 
 ening of the sky. It occurred at night, but a night of 
 such peace as became the holy Christmas tide. A resident 
 of Granada said to me, "It was a beautiful moonlight 
 night when I felt the first shock." In an instant all was 
 terror and dismay. So violent was it as to cause great 
 destruction of property and loss of life, and to create such 
 consternation that the people fled from their homes and 
 camped in the fields, though they were covered with 
 snow. After a time they recovered calmness and return- 
 ed to their dwellings, when in six months Granada had 
 another visitation, which was to prove still more terrible. 
 
 The cholera did not excite such immediate alarm as 
 the earthquake, for though the very word is a word of 
 terror, its ravages were not so great at first as afterwards. 
 But still a place in which the cholera had made a begin- 
 ning, was one which a prudent man would wish to avoid. 
 
 It was at this moment that Granada received a new 
 Archbishop. The former one had fled from the city at 
 the first appearance of the cholera, but his very fright 
 brought on an attack from which he died. His successor, 
 Father Moreno, had been private chaplain to the King, 
 
232 HORRORS OF THE CHOLERA. 
 
 and was now promoted to the See of Granada a position 
 of great dignity, but of great exposure also, and his friends 
 advised him to remain in Madrid until the danger was 
 over. They little knew the temper of the man, who found 
 in this only a reason for hastening to the post of duty. 
 His courage was soon put to the test : for scarcely had 
 he taken up his residence in Granada when the cholera, 
 which had hitherto appeared only in a less degree, burst 
 forth anew, and raged with the utmost violence. Instead 
 of deaths here and there, the people died by scores and 
 by hundreds. All who could leave the city fled, but 
 enough still remained to furnish the harvest of death. 
 Of course its ravages were greatest among the poor, who 
 could make no provision against it, living in wretched 
 habitations, which were the breeding-places of pestilence. 
 In a few weeks ten thousand had died one-seventh of the 
 whole population ! Indeed on some days the mortality 
 was much greater than this, as when over five hundred 
 died in one day a rate which, if continued for five 
 months, would have left in the city not a single human 
 being ! 
 
 Such appalling mortality struck everybody with terror. 
 The demoralization was almost worse than death. l3ut 
 how could it be otherwise ? Who could control himself in 
 presence of a plague like that of the first-born in Egypt, 
 when " there was not a house in which there was not one 
 dead " ? It was hardly possible to find nurses for the 
 sick : for as soon as the fatal disease appeared, the living 
 fled from them. A German resident told me of the sad 
 fate of one of his countrymen, an artist, who after pursuing 
 his studies in Florence (where he had given promise of 
 future distinction) came to Granada to make sketches of 
 the Alhambra, for which he took up his quarters in one of 
 the old towers, having as his only attendant a woman to 
 
HOW THEY BURIED THE DEAD. 233 
 
 take care of his room, who, as soon as he was taken ill, 
 was so frightened that she left him alone, and fled to the 
 Washington Irving Hotel ; but danger met her there, for 
 somebody died in the night, and she fled back again, only 
 to find that he whom she had forsaken was dead, when she 
 too was stricken down, and in a few hours died also. 
 
 Where such incidents were of daily occurrence, it was 
 impossible to keep down the panic. The terror was so 
 great that it even stifled the affections of nature. W"e are 
 wont to think that no degree of danger can overcome the 
 instinct of maternity, and lead a mother to forsake her child. 
 And yet the cases were numerous in which parents fled 
 from their homes, leaving their offspring to die. 
 
 Such was the state of alarm, that it was hardly possible 
 to bury the dead. The bodies were carried to some 
 " dumping-ground " and thrown in heaps, from which the 
 stench was too horrible for any one to approach. The 
 police were powerless to enforce the common decencies of 
 sepulture, and it was only when the prisoners were taken 
 out of the jails, and the soldiers stood over them with 
 loaded muskets, that pits were digged in which the putre- 
 fying mass of humanity was buried out of sight. 
 
 Such was the condition of Granada in August, 1885, 
 and such the scenes that presented themselves to the new 
 Archbishop scenes that would shake the nerves of most 
 men, and excite an uncontrollable impulse to escape to a 
 place of safety. His friends begged him to save himself 
 while he could. To all such entreaties he answered with a 
 mildness and gentleness that are the best indications of an 
 unalterable mind : " It is not my own safety that I am to 
 consider ; I do not belong to myself, but to my poor 
 people ; and if they ever need me, they need me now." 
 Nor did he think it enough to remain in the city, but to 
 seclude himself so as to avoid exposure to danger. He 
 
234= VISITS TO THE SICK AND DYING. 
 
 did not shut himself up in his palace, and send out his 
 priests to meet dangers which he did not dare to face. In 
 answer to my inquiries he said that, when he was a young 
 man, he had been a student in the University of Granada, 
 and at that time became familiar with its streets and 
 by-ways, so that he did not need any guide to point out 
 the plague-spots of the city. So he went into the streets, 
 not courting but avoiding observation, for which he often 
 went at night lest the people, discovering who he was, 
 should " throng him," and thus impede his efforts for their 
 good. In the silence and the darkness he went from 
 street to street, and from door to door, entering the dwell- 
 ings of the poor, listening to their pitiful stories of misery, 
 holding the hands of those in the last agony, and whisper- 
 ing consolation to the departing soul. If anything could 
 take aw r ay the bitterness of death, it must have been the 
 benevolent countenance of that man of God bending over 
 one's pillow, and breathing into his ear the words of 
 immortal faith and hope ! 
 
 In these visits to the dying he had often a very delicate, 
 but a very necessary, duty to perform. One of the evils of 
 Spain is the great number of men and women living in 
 the family relation with no marriage ties. Such he found, 
 about to leave children who would be doubly orphaned, 
 as they would be left not only with no title to an inherit- 
 ance from their parents, but with none even to their very 
 names ! This brand of illegitimacy it was in his power by 
 a brief service, such as is permitted in extremis, to remove ; 
 and thus by a few words spoken in the death-chamber, he 
 gave unspeakable relief to the dying father and mother, 
 while he secured to their children the priceless inheritance 
 of an honorable name. 
 
 But he did not limit himself to giving spiritual conso- 
 lation. He wished to save the lives as well as the souls of 
 
FEEDING THE HUNGRY. 235 
 
 his people. They were not only in need of medical treat- 
 ment, but were without food. As the panic had paralyzed 
 all business, there was no work for the laboring class, by 
 which they could earn their daily bread. This aggravated 
 the situation. If their strength was reduced by the want of 
 food, they would fall victims to the slightest attack. Hence 
 the first necessity was that they should be fed. But who 
 could feed such a multitude ? This required money, and 
 a great deal of it. But gold and silver he had none. In 
 this extremity he told me that he had thought seriously of 
 selling the mitre that had just been bestowed upon him. 
 True, it was not worth much, but he thought he could 
 perhaps raise five hundred francs upon it, and that might 
 save some precious lives. I dare say some whisper of his 
 intention got abroad ; at any rate, as the public heard 
 daily of the horrors of the cholera in Granada, they could 
 not but hear of the brave fight he was making against it, 
 and he began to receive contributions from different 
 quarters a hundred francs, two hundred, five hundred, 
 a thousand, five thousand, and in one instance ten thou- 
 sand ! Thus provided with the needed resources, he set 
 about administering in a systematic way to the relief of 
 the poor. First of all, like his Divine Master, he fed the 
 multitude ; he provided an abundant supply of simple 
 but nourishing food. This timely nourishment, with 
 proper medical treatment, checked the spread of the 
 pestilence, and by-and-by it began to abate. It had 
 broken out in June, and culminated in August, though 
 it continued into September. By the last of that month 
 it was so far abated as to be under control. 
 
 But now came a new source of anxiety. The people 
 had been fed and kept alive, but they needed also to be 
 clothed, for they were extremely destitute ; the poor were 
 in rags, and as the Autumn drew on ; and the nights were 
 
236 KEEPING CALM AND CALMING OTHERS. 
 
 chill with frost, they would shiver with cold, and perhaps 
 perish at the first blasts of the approaching Winter. To 
 avert this new calamity, the Archbishop wisely devoted 
 what remained of the contributions in his hands, to 
 providing them with warm clothing. Thus having cared 
 for " his poor people " to the last, and seen them warmed 
 and fed, he might well feel that he " had done his duty," 
 and could rest from his long labor. 
 
 Such was the story of the cholera of 1885, as I learned 
 it from many sources, and as it was at last told me with 
 the utmost simplicity by the Archbishop, or rather as I 
 drew it from him. I looked at him with wonder, and 
 asked : 
 
 " How did you feel during those terrible months ? 
 Were you attacked with cholera ? " 
 
 '* No, never." 
 
 " How did you guard yourself against it ? " 
 
 " Partly by not fearing it. My constant effort was to 
 calm myself and to calm others." 
 
 In further explanation, he said that he changed very 
 little his usual course of life, but kept up his regular hab- 
 its. He ascribed very much to his method, by which he 
 went through his trying duties as the humblest priest 
 would go the round of his parish. This perfect system 
 kept him from falling into any confusion being bewil- 
 dered by the varied cares that were thrown upon him. It 
 was easy to see, in looking at that placid countenance, 
 that he was a man of even temper, not easily thrown off 
 his balance. Thus he kept a calm and tranquil mind in 
 the midst of scenes that might have shaken the stoutest 
 heart, when " the pestilence was walking in darkness, and 
 destruction wasting at noonday." This serenity in the 
 presence of danger may be ascribed in part to tempera- 
 ment, but far more to the inward religious life which 
 
11 GOD ALONE CARRIED ME THROUGH." 237 
 
 filled his mind with " the peace of God which passeth all 
 understanding," so that he could go forth to the duties 
 and the horrors of each day calm and undismayed. 
 
 This Divine protection and aid he was most anxious 
 to recognize, lest I should ascribe too much to himself. 
 " No," he said, " it was not I that did it, but a Power far 
 above me. Mere courage is not enough at such a mo- 
 ment, any more than mere physical strength. It is from 
 no feigned humility, but from the deepest conviction of 
 my heart, that I say, It was GOD alone who carried me 
 through." 
 
 So spake the good Archbishop. How could I help 
 loving such a man ? Could I love him the less because he 
 was a Catholic Archbishop, instead of being a Protestant 
 like myself ? There are moments in which all differences 
 disappear in the presence of moral greatness. I saw be^ 
 fore me, not the bishop nor the priest, but only an illustri- 
 ous example of courage in the midst of appalling dangers ; 
 of calmness in the midst of universal agitation, and of 
 supreme devotion to duty. In the presence of such 
 heroism, devoted to the relief of human suffering, mere 
 differences of creed sink out of sight. I looked at him 
 with a feeling of affectionate veneration ; and when at 
 parting he followed me through the corridor and gave me 
 (with a patriarchal embrace) his blessing, I was glad to 
 receive it from one who had proved himself a hero in the 
 cause of humanity as well as a true Christian bishop, and 
 shall always have a more kindly feeling for the old Church 
 of Spain (proud and haughty though she may be) when I 
 remember that she has given such a splendid example of 
 courage and devotion. 
 
CHAPTEE XVIL 
 PROTESTANTISM AND RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 
 
 After this glowing tribute to a Catholic Archbishop, 
 and a chapter on Ignatius Loyola, and the descriptions 
 of Cathedrals which I delight in, some of my friends in 
 America may think that I make more of the Roman Cath- 
 olic Church in Spain than of Protestantism. Of course I 
 do, and for the best of all reasons, that there is a great 
 deal more of it. The ancient Church of Spain is great 
 and powerful ; Protestantism is but a grain of mustard- 
 seed. Yet a grain of seed is not to be despised : for 
 though it be so small as to be invisible to the naked eye, 
 yet it has in it the essential element of life, with "the 
 promise and the potency " of great things to come. But 
 for the present Protestantism in Spain is cast far into the 
 shade ; and yet small and feeble as it is, it is not only a 
 religious but a political force, because of that which it 
 represents, and for which it stands the sacred cause of 
 religious liberty. The two things are so connected that 
 we may consider them together. 
 
 In the conversations with Castelar, he had much to say 
 of the degree of personal liberty in Spain (a subject of 
 which he likes to talk, and dwells upon fondly and proudly) 
 
FREEDOM IN GOING OUT AND COMING IN. 239 
 
 liberty of the individual in his movements ; liberty of 
 speech and of the press ; liberty of association and assem- 
 bly, of holding meetings for any lawful purpose, political 
 or religious, which of course includes the right to hold 
 any religious faith, and to celebrate any form of religious 
 worship. In all these particulars he claimed that Spain 
 was as free as any State in Europe as free as Italy, or 
 France, or England, or even our own dear America ! 
 
 This is a proud boast to make ; and even though we 
 may not be able to go quite to the extent of the eloquent 
 Spaniard, yet there is enough to make him proud, espe- 
 cially as he contrasts the present condition of his country 
 with what it was when he was born. To begin with, every 
 man enjoys a great degree of freedom in his domicile, 
 in his goings out and his comings in. In some countries 
 of Europe a man is so constantly under the surveillance of 
 the police, that he is hampered in his every movement ; 
 he cannot stir out of his native village without a passport 
 in his pocket, or a permit from the civil or military 
 authority. To some extent this restriction exists in Spain. 
 Every Spaniard must have his cedida, or official certificate, 
 to show who he is and where he lives, without which he is 
 not permitted to travel. This is a security against escape 
 from military duty, and against vagrancy, no unimportant 
 thing in Spain : for though it does not extirpate the race 
 of beggars, it keeps the beggars at home. But for a hard- 
 working and self-supporting man, there is very little re- 
 striction on his movements. Except for the duty of mili- 
 tary service (to which he is liable under the conscription 
 in Spain, as he would be in France or Germany), he is 
 master of himself, free to go anywhere, to take up his 
 residence in any city, or make his home in any province, 
 where he can sit under his own vine and fig-tree, with 
 none to molest or make him afraid. 
 
240 LIBERTY OF SPEECH. 
 
 Next to this liberty of the person is the liberty of 
 speech, which is carried to the greatest extent. A Span- 
 iard would not be himself if he could not talk. Talk he 
 must, and talk he will. And he will not mumble to him- 
 self, but he must talk to somebody ; and not merely in his 
 own house, behind closed doors, but in the street, wherever 
 men do congregate. In Madrid I had but to look out of 
 my windows into the Puerta del Sol, to see how these 
 Madrilenos came together like a flock of pigeons, or rather, 
 I should say, like a flock of black crows, to judge from the 
 heavy cloaks in which they wrap their Castilian dignity. 
 It was amusing to lean out of the window and hear them 
 talk. How they did jabber ! Every man seemed to have 
 muffled up in his cloak some secret which he was anxious 
 to impart to his neighbor. So it is in every Spanish city. 
 Go into the cafes, and see them seated round their little 
 tables, and every instant that their mouths are not occu- 
 pied in eating or in smoking, they are kept going in cease- 
 less clatter. Indeed the smoking does not interfere with 
 it, as it only gives opportunity for a slight pause to recover 
 one's breath, when the conversation goes on with the same 
 volubility as before. So in every place of resort : in the 
 corridors and boxes of the opera and the theatre, in the 
 stalls of the bull-ring, at the porches of churches and 
 cathedrals, do the Spaniards exercise the freedom of their 
 tongues ; and exercise it on every possible subject, private 
 or public, religious or political. The right to " speak his 
 mind" is the birthright of every Spaniard as of every 
 American. 
 
 When a nation has secured this liberty of speech, its 
 next demand is for liberty of the press, and this too is 
 carried in Spain quite as far as it ought to be in any coun- 
 try indocd sometimes beyond the bounds of decency. A 
 foreign ambassador in Madrid gave me this as his opinion : 
 
LIBERTY OF THE PRESS. 241 
 
 "If the journals of this city were to attack the Queen 
 Regent to-morrow, not merely in her royal prerogatives, 
 but personally and bitterly, I believe the offence, however 
 much it might excite popular disgust, would pass without 
 arrest or trial, or punishment of any kind." Compare this 
 with the freedom, or want of freedom, in Germany. What 
 would be the fate of a journalist in Berlin, who should 
 attack the Emperor after this fashion, or even his powerful 
 Minister? But I must confess that this degree of free- 
 dom is not to me a matter of congratulation. It is 
 carrying liberty far beyond what I wish to see in Spain 
 or anywhere. American as I am, and belonging to the 
 press as I do, I do not believe in the liberty of unlimited 
 abuse, and I should be glad to see such outrages upon 
 decency severely punished. I do not therefore speak of 
 this freedom of the press as approving it, but only to 
 show that Spain has gone so far towards the utmost 
 degree of freedom, that she has even the very excesses of 
 liberty. 
 
 Kindred to the right of speech and of the press, is 
 that of holding public meetings and discussing political 
 questions, which is carried perhaps as far as is consistent 
 with public tranquillity. We have seen the freedom of 
 discussion in the Cortes. Nothing could be more out- 
 spoken than the speeches in the late debate. All sorts of 
 political opinions were openly avowed opinions which, if 
 carried into action, would make a revolution to-morrow. 
 But this freedom is not limited to Parliament : it shows 
 itself in all the large towns, and indeed in all the prov- 
 inces, of Spain. I have been told that months before the 
 Cortes met, Republican deputies were holding public meet- 
 ings in Catalonia, in which they almost openly preached 
 armed insurrection ! Surely the liberty of public meet- 
 ings and of unlicensed speech, could no farther go. 
 
242 RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 
 
 The only question is as to religious liberty : freedom 
 to worship God that freedom which our fathers sought 
 in the forests of the New World. Can it be that this too 
 has come in Spain, the land of the Inquisition ? To some 
 extent it has, but not so fully as liberty in other matters. 
 A short reference to recent history will explain the present 
 position of affairs. 
 
 In the Kevolution of 1868, one of the first rights demand- 
 ed and accorded was freedom of religious faith and worship. 
 The Second Article of the Constitution defines the attitude 
 of the State towards Beligion. It begins by declaring the 
 Roman Catholic Church to be the Established Church of 
 Spain : " The Catholic Apostolic Roman Religion is that 
 of the State. The nation assumes the obligation of main- 
 taining its worship and its ministers." 
 
 Of course this is not " liberty and equality " as we 
 understand it in America : for to recognize one particular 
 faith and form of worship as that of the State, is to 
 discriminate against all others. They may be tolerated 
 they may even be protected ; but this is established ; it 
 is incorporated into the State as a part of it, to be 
 supported by its revenues as much as the Army and 
 Navy i it is invested with an official state and dignity that 
 can belong to no other which exists merely by sufferance. 
 This is an inequality, and so far an injustice. 
 
 But whatever hardship there may be in the mere fact 
 of an Established Church, it is no greater in Spain than in 
 England. If we are to be branded as Dissenters, what 
 difference does it make whether we sit under the shadow 
 of English or of Spanish cathedrals ? Protestants have no 
 reason to complain of that in Spain to which all Dissenters 
 have to submit in England the existence of an Estab- 
 lished Church ; nor that the Church should be the one to 
 which the great body of the Spanish people belong. 
 
GUARANTEES OF THE CONSTITUTION. 243 
 
 Especially is the burden of Nonconformity lightened 
 by the second clause in this Article of the Constitution, 
 which reads : " No person shall be molested in the terri- 
 tory of Spain for his religious opinions, nor for the 
 exercise of his particular religious worship, saving the 
 respect due to Christian morality." Better and better! 
 We could hardly frame even in America a more clear and 
 explicit declaration of absolute freedom of religious belief 
 and worship. If the principle here affirmed could be 
 faithfully carried out, Protestants could ask no more. 
 But this edict of liberty is immediately nullified, at least 
 in part, by that which follows : " Nevertheless, no other 
 ceremonies, nor manifestations in public, will be permitted 
 than those of the religion of the State." 
 
 Here is a contradiction, since what is given in one 
 sentence is withdrawn in the next. The union of two 
 such clauses in the same Article, discloses the difficulties 
 with which the framers of the Constitution had to contend. 
 There were two parties in the Cortes and in the country : 
 the party of progress and of liberty, and the party of 
 conservatism, which would cling to everything old old 
 rights, old privileges, and old abuses and would yield 
 nothing to the spirit of the age ; and like other framers 
 of laws or constitutions or political platforms, they tried 
 to satisfy both. 
 
 The only way of reconciling the two clauses seems to 
 be to interpret the Article as meaning that dissenters from 
 the Catholic faith may hold their opinions in private, with- 
 out the right or privilege of public worship. Such was 
 not probably the intention of the framers of the Constitu- 
 tion for they could hardly have meant to stultify them- 
 selves ; but it is a construction which may easily be put 
 upon the clause by Cabinet Ministers or local magistrates 
 who wish to suppress Protestant worship. The only 
 
214 PETTY RESTRICTIONS. 
 
 security against this is in having Ministers who will 
 interpret it in its liberal sense, and who, instead of being 
 intimidated by the clerical outcry against toleration, are 
 sufficiently independent to defend and maintain the free- 
 dom guaranteed by the Constitution. 
 
 The ambiguous wording of the Article gives oppor- 
 tunity for a thousand questions to arise, which, petty as 
 they are, are none the less annoying and troublesome, 
 as, for example : some years ago there was a tempest in 
 a teapot in the island of Minorca over such mighty 
 questions as these : 
 
 "Whether a school-mistress could walk in public with 
 little children of Protestant families, without subjecting 
 herself to rebuke ? " 
 
 " Whether the Sub-Governor of the island could enter 
 a room habitually used for Protestant worship ? " 
 
 Elsewhere the public mind was agitated over the 
 momentous questions : 
 
 " Whether a man could put up a sign-board to indi- 
 cate that he had Bibles to sell? " 
 
 " Whether a peddler in Valladolid could cry Bibles in 
 the streets ? " 
 
 "Whether places of Protestant worship could be indi- 
 cated by such undenominational inscriptions as ' Church 
 of Christ'?" 
 
 Of course the more bigoted among the Catholics 
 contended for a rigid interpretation of the last clause in 
 the above Article ; and yet, in spite of this, public opinion 
 was so strongly in favor of liberty that they were in some 
 degree compelled to submit. 
 
 How far religious liberty has gone under the present 
 Constitution, may be seen here in Madrid, where there are 
 a number of Protestant places of worship. These, it 
 should be said, however, are in part attached to Foreign 
 
PROTESTANT WORSHIP IN MADRID. 245 
 
 Embassies, and exercise the right of public worship under 
 their protection. But this is not always the case. The 
 English Church, for example, is not in the Embassy, but 
 in a dingy room in the second story of an old palace, 
 where commonly not more than forty or fifty persons 
 meet for worship. In the next story of the same building 
 is a service in Spanish, conducted by Eev. Mr. Jameson, 
 an excellent Scotch missionary, who has been long in 
 Spain, and speaks the language perfectly. Here perhaps 
 a hundred and fifty assemble on a Sunday morning, and 
 the service is conducted with great apparent devoutness, 
 as well as with the same simplicity of worship as in dear 
 old Scotland. 
 
 At the same time there is a service in German by 
 Pastor Fliedner, the Chaplain of the German Embassy, 
 and other services by Protestant ministers of different 
 countries and Churches. All these are conducted openly, 
 without molestation or interference a freedom which 
 they may owe in part to the presence of the Foreign 
 Embassadors. But the pastors are not restricted to 
 services within the Embassies. Pastor Fliedner, for 
 example, has a school and an orphanage in another part 
 of the city, into which he gathers poor children, and thus 
 does the work done by the devoted missionaries in the 
 poor quarters of London or of New York. 
 
 While admiring this quiet work of Christian charity, I 
 was curious to know if the same toleration would be 
 extended to Protestant worship if it were to "blossom 
 out " in some more conspicuous form. " Suppose," I 
 asked Mr. Jameson, " that the English colony in Madrid 
 were to become so large and wealthy as to require, not a 
 cathedral, but a handsome church, which they wished to 
 erect on some public square or principal street, would 
 they be allowed to build it?" He answered "I thinl? 
 
246 THEY COULD NOT RING BELLS! 
 
 they would ; although," he added after a moment's 
 hesitation, " perhaps they would not be permitted to ring 
 bells " ! The restriction did not seem to me so important 
 as to take away the substantial value of the privilege. 
 Indeed, he said smiling, a Scotchman could hardly com- 
 plain when it was only recently that any churches in 
 Scotland could have bells, except those of the old Scotch 
 Kirk. He could not well ask a privilege in Spain which 
 he could not have obtained in his own country! Our 
 friends could afford to be content without the bells, if 
 they could have the church, which I should be glad to 
 see lifting its stately front on the Puerta del Sol ; or 
 better still, on the Plaza Major, where the old Catholic 
 kings used to sit on the balcony in front of the Koyal 
 Palace, and watch the victims of the Autos-da-Fe as they 
 were marched into the square, where they were formally 
 condemned by the Holy Office, and delivered over to the 
 civil power to be burned. Here let it stand forever as a 
 monument of religious liberty ! 
 
 But even though such a monument should rise in the 
 heart of Madrid, and tower above the city, it would have 
 no power to protect Protestants in the remoter parts of 
 Spain. The Spanish body politic (to use a medical phrase) 
 has a very feeble circulation, and it is a long time before 
 the blood that is beating at the heart is felt at the extrem- 
 ities. It is true in all countries, that bad magistrates 
 make good laws of little effect : even the best laws may be 
 neutralized to some extent by local officials who are hostile 
 or indifferent. But in Spain more than in most countries, 
 the local administration, to which is left the enforcement 
 of the laws, is very slow to take notice of any offence to 
 Protestants, and so they are subjected to frequent annoy- 
 ance in the suppression of their schools, and interference 
 with their worship. 
 
OPINION OF A SPANISH PROTESTANT. 247 
 
 I have now before me a letter from a Protestant pastor 
 in Malaga, one of the best informed men whom I found in 
 Spain, in which he does not see things in the rosy light so 
 grateful to American eyes, that welcome whatever bears 
 the sacred name of liberty. He thinks I have taken a 
 view which is altogether too favorable. As I believe in 
 looking at a question from all sides, I quote his very 
 words, translating the greater part of his letter : 
 
 ' ' You have been captivated by the fine phrases of our states- 
 men, and been led to believe that there is as much liberty here 
 as in any country in Europe. Indeed, to hear them speak, we 
 are the freest people in the world ; but when you see the way in 
 which they understand liberty, and the little respect and con- 
 science which they have in the execution of the laws, you may be 
 led to think differently. 
 
 ' ' You know that religious liberty is the basis of all liberty, 
 and to judge of the liberties which a nation has obtained, one 
 needs only to see the degree of religious freedom which exists 
 in it. In this respect we are, with the exception of Kussia and 
 Turkey, the most in the rear [les plus arrieres}. 
 
 " The Government is intolerant in religious matters. It will 
 never stand up for our rights against the abuses committed by 
 the local authorities, who are controlled by the clergy. They 
 leave us in peace so long as we make our propaganda more or 
 less secretly ; but the moment that the priests become alarmed 
 at what we are doing, the authorities whom they control annoy 
 us in a thousand ways. We appeal to the laws, and are told that 
 the Kornan Catholic is the Established Church, and that the laws 
 are made for them ! We should have a fine time in making recla- 
 mations against these unjust decisions. They will always find 
 means to declare us guilty, and to absolve our persecutors. 
 
 " I am a Spaniard, and I love my country ; but I must confess 
 that here no respect is paid to the laws, except as it may suit the 
 pleasure of the authorities, because you cannot find a people 
 whoso conscience is so thoroughly cauterized. Hence the com- 
 mon saying which they have in Spain, that ' The laws are made 
 to be broken, and not to be obeyed ' ! 
 
 " Compare the state of Spain with that of Italy. There the 
 
248 OPPOSITION TO RELIGIOUS LIBERTY. 
 
 Government causes the laws to be respected. One sees Protest- 
 ants in the Parliament, judges in the tribunals, and professors in 
 the State schools. In Spain that is impossible. In the greater 
 part of our Normal Schools, any one who declared himself a 
 Protestant could not obtain a diploma as a teacher. It is true 
 that in Madrid there is no difficulty in this respect, but it is 
 because of the presence of the Foreign Embassies. In vain do 
 you make any reclamation against this : you will lose your time 
 and your money. No, Monsieur, do not believe that we have the 
 same liberty here that you have in the United States. Would to 
 God that it were so ! Our statesmen make a parade of their love 
 of liberty, but that amounts to nothing : they had rather make 
 their boasts in the Cortes than work to give us real practical 
 liberty. 
 
 "We in Spain are making some progress. We march for- 
 wards, but very slowly, and in spite of our Governments." 
 
 This is not a cheering report. It is in strong contrast 
 to the glowing pictures of Spanish liberty which Castelar 
 presented to our American eyes. But perhaps both 
 representations should be accepted with some reserve. 
 If one be too bright, the other may be too dark. Every 
 man sees things with his own eyes, and according to his 
 own experience. Our friend in Malaga has doubtless 
 suffered many personal annoyances. Other Protestant 
 pastors could tell a similar tale, for which he and they 
 may well be indignant that such things can be permitted 
 in a country that professes to have adopted the principle 
 of complete religious liberty. 
 
 To Americans the surprise is still greater, for they 
 cannot understand it ; they can hardly credit the possi- 
 bility of such narrowness and bigotry. To such I can 
 only say, You have never been in Spain. Spain is not 
 America. It is an old country, and with all that is grand 
 and venerable in age old cities and old monuments, old 
 laws and institutions has also the weaknesses of age, its 
 pride in clinging to the past, and its scorn of ah 1 things 
 
A DEFENDER OF THE INQUISITION. 249 
 
 new. Spain can never forget that it once had the fore- 
 most place in Europe, and though it has lost its position, 
 it has not lost its pride. In this the Church of Spain is a 
 part of Spain itself ; it is proud and haughty, as is natural 
 to a power that has been wont to trample on its enemies, 
 and that would gladly trample on them still. These things 
 we must take as they are. With all that is good in Spain, 
 with all that is full of promise and of hope, there is still 
 much which belongs to another age than ours ; which 
 savors of the old dark days of Spanish tyranny ; which 
 reminds us that we are in the land of the Inquisition, 
 where Torquemada has still successors. 
 
 Indeed the Inquisition is not quite dead in Spain. 
 True, the Holy Office is closed ; its prison-doors no longer 
 open for heretics ; its dungeons no longer smother the 
 groans of its unhappy victims. But the spirit of an institu- 
 tion may survive the institution itself ; and it can hardly 
 be said that the Inquisition is wholly dead so long as it has 
 defenders. Yet such it has, as a recent incident proves. 
 A few years since, on the two hundredth anniversary of 
 the death of Calderon de la Barca, the Shakespeare of 
 Spain, there was a celebration in Madrid in his honor. 
 The occasion attracted much attention from literary men 
 throughout Europe, many of whom were invited to be 
 present. Among those who answered to the invitation 
 were several German professors. Yet at this international 
 celebration, in an assemblage from all countries, there 
 rose one who did not hesitate to offer a toast to " The 
 Inquisition " ! Nor was this as a jest, nor in mere brava- 
 do, but in grim earnest ; nor did he withdraw it when he 
 heard the indignant murmurs of those around him, but 
 stood by his position, and had the effrontery to say, in the 
 presence of the representatives of Northern literature and 
 learning, that "Spain must be forever grateful to the 
 
250 A PROFESSOR IN THE UNIVERSITY. 
 
 House of Austria and tlie House of Bourbon, which had 
 saved her from German barbarism " ! 
 
 " But surely," you will say, " this must have been some 
 lunatic escaped from an asylum some Spanish night-owl 
 hooting among the ruins of ancient towers ! " Not a bit 
 of it. It was the distinguished Professor of Spanish Lit- 
 erature in the University of Madrid, who knew what he was 
 talking about as well as any man in Spain, and to whom a 
 German Protestant Professor pays the highest tribute for 
 the extent of his learning and the purity of his character.* 
 
 If such be the lessons taught in high places by men of 
 learning and devout Christian character, what can be ex- 
 pected of the lower class of priests, who are as fanatical as 
 they are ignorant? 
 
 * Edward Boehmer, Emeritus Professor in the University of 
 Strasburg, in the Preface to his great work, " SPANISH REFORM- 
 ERS OF Two CENTURIES FROM 1520," says : 
 
 "Doubtless Menendez Pelayo is the best-read and best-in- 
 formed man in Spain as to the literature of the evangelical move- 
 ment amongst his countrymen ; there is no one who could claim 
 to rank with him. He has varied learning, vindicates morality, 
 and is a man stamped with firm religious principles. A master 
 in his own language, he does not hesitate to avow his admiration 
 of the purity and energy of expression in the Spanish works of 
 men to whom he is opposed. I could almost apply to him the 
 language of an old French poet, who, speaking of a noble war- 
 rior opposed to Charlemagne, exclaimed: 'My God! what a 
 champion he would be, if he were but a Christian ! ' ' 
 
 This Professor in the University of Madrid is the author of a 
 work in three large octavo volumes, of the size of Prcscott's 
 Ferdinand and Isabella, on THE SPANISH HERETICS. The title 
 in Spanish is " HISTORIA DE LOS HETERODOXOS ESPANOLES : Par 
 el Doctor Don Marcelino Menendez Pelayo, Catedratico de Liter- 
 atura Espauola en la Universidad de Madrid." The spirit of the 
 workjis indicated in the text quoted on the titlepage : "Ex nolis 
 prodierunt, sed non erant ex nobis" (1 John ii. 19) "They went 
 out from us, but they were not of us." 
 
SPANISH PROTESTANTS. 251 
 
 The question of religious liberty in Spain is not merely 
 an abstract question of politics, debated nowhere but in 
 the Cortes : it is a practical one, as it bears directly upon 
 the rights and privileges of Protestants, who, though 
 insignificant in numbers as compared with the whole 
 population of the country, are yet enough to put to 
 the test the reality of Spanish law and Spanish justice ; 
 to show whether the clause in the Constitution which 
 reads "No person in the territory of Spain shall be 
 molested for his religious opinions, nor for the exercise 
 of his particular religious worship, saving the respect 
 due to Christian morality," is a mere flourish of words, 
 a bit of Castilian grandiloquence, or is indeed a part of the 
 fundamental law of Spain. 
 
 To this question, or any question about the rights of 
 Protestants, some of the old hidalgos might reply, as 
 Narvaez on his deathbed answered his confessor when 
 asked if he forgave his enemies, that " he did not know 
 of any who were left : that he thought he had killed them 
 all " ! The Inquisition did its bloody work so effectively, 
 that Spaniards may well think that the whole race of 
 Reformers was exterminated. But, as in France still 
 survive descendants of the Huguenots, so here in parts of 
 the country may be found a few scattered descendants of 
 men who escaped the rack or the flames, and who cling to 
 Spain as the land of their fathers. They have forfeited no 
 right by reason of the cruelties visited upon a past genera- 
 tion. They are not aliens in the land. They are as true 
 Spaniards as those of the bluest blood, and have as good a 
 right here as any grandee of Castile or Arragon, and a far 
 better right than the foreign princes or princesses who 
 have been transformed into Spanish kings and queens. 
 The excellent Queen Regent who now occupies the Royal 
 Palace in Madrid, was born on the banks of the Danube. 
 
252 THEIR RIGHTS IN THE COUNTRY. 
 
 Surely those who are of direct Spanish descent, even 
 though they be of Protestant faith, have as good a right 
 to their native land as any Austrian or Bourbon that has 
 been imported to rule over them. If the Protestants are 
 few in number, it is no fault of theirs, but because three 
 hundred years ago tens of thousands of the Eeformed 
 faith were burned at the stake. Such wholesale massacres 
 could not take away the rights of those who escaped, or of 
 their descendants. On the contrary, these may claim a 
 better title in a country for which their ancestors suffered 
 the loss of all things. As they read the paternal names on 
 the roll of Spanish martyrs, they may well feel that they 
 have a sacred inheritance in the land wkich their fathers 
 watered with their blood. 
 
 The Spanish Protestants, like the French Huguenots, 
 have a proud history to look back upon. No chapter of 
 the Great Reformation is more tragic, and yet more full of 
 heroic endurance, than the Reformation in Spain. Where- 
 fore there is no reason why the remnant need to be so very 
 humble in the presence of their persecutors. They are 
 not of an inferior or a subject race, who have to ask 
 permission of their Catholic masters to remain in their 
 native land. Here they were born, and here, by God's 
 help, they mean to live and to die. 
 
 But let me not do injustice to Spanish Catholics, the 
 more liberal of whom, I presume, would not wish to 
 deprive their Protestant countrymen of their rights. Still 
 their pride might take offence at the idea that Catholic 
 Spain should be considered missionary ground, to which 
 men of other countries may come to make proselytes. 
 But what is Spain herself doing when she sends her monks 
 and priests to America? She can hardly object to our 
 showing a little of the missionary zeal of which she has 
 given us the example, 
 
A QUESTION OF PRUDENCE. 253 
 
 But the question of right is not the only one : there is 
 a question of wisdom and prudence. There is a mode of 
 proselytism which not only does no good, but is positively 
 mischievous, as it only stirs up bitterness. If the sending 
 of missionaries to Spain is to be the occasion of angry 
 feuds among the Spanish people, it will do more harm 
 than good. Is there, then, any legitimate work for 
 Protestantism in this country, which it may do without 
 seeming to be an intruder, or stirring up needless strife ? 
 I think there is, as I will try to indicate. 
 
 The work of proselytism in a foreign country, is one 
 that naturally awakens prejudice and provokes hostility, 
 especially among a people like the Spaniards, who are 
 proud and sensitive to intrusion of any kind upon what 
 they regard as their own exclusive domain. Wherefore it 
 would seem a first point of wisdom in those who come 
 from abroad to begin missionary work among them, to 
 avoid, so far as may be, controversy with the Roman Catholic 
 Church. Here I know I touch a tender point. Some tell 
 me that to take away from them this " privilege," <would 
 be to take away their own right of existence. " What," 
 they say, "are we here for? What good reason can we 
 give except that the Church of Spain is so corrupt that 
 the country needs a purer form of Christianity ? " Espe- 
 cially the younger men, who are very brave, and feel 
 strong in their Protestant faith founded on the Bible, are 
 rather eager for combat. They think it the best way to 
 inaugurate their mission, and call attention to their work, 
 to make a direct attack on the Roman Catholic Church, 
 exposing its superstitions, and even assailing its priests 
 and bishops. No doubt it is a way to make themselves 
 conspicuous, and attract public attention ; but whether 
 the result will be to render the people more willing to 
 listen to the truth, is another question. 
 
254 POPULAR FEELING AGAINST THE PRIESTS. 
 
 Of course there are occasions when there is no alterna- 
 tive ; when the Protestant faith is held up as a compound 
 of heresy and blasphemy, and the missionaries themselves 
 are assailed as if they were intruders in the country, and 
 mischief-makers among the people. Then surely they can 
 claim the sacred right of self-defence, and are free to bear 
 their part in a war which they did not begin. But that is 
 quite another thing from dashing into the arena, and throw- 
 ing down the gage of battle. The latter course, however 
 courageous it may appear, I cannot but think mistaken. 
 
 In the first place, to begin with the lowest motive, if 
 the object were to discredit the Church of Spain and its 
 priesthood, that work of destruction is likely to be done, 
 and will be done, if done at all, by the Spaniards them- 
 selves, without any meddling from outsiders. Already the 
 attitude of the educated men of this country, though not 
 so far advanced, is not altogether unlike that of the edu- 
 cated men of France. Here, as there, there is a great 
 contempt for the superstitions of the Church. Nothing 
 do the*people enjoy more than hits at the lower order of 
 priests, with their coarse, sensual faces, made more offen- 
 sive by their pretensions of spirituality. There is a paper 
 published in Madrid called " El Motin," the staple of which 
 is caricature of the priests in all possible forms. Half a 
 dozen copies are now before me, in which they are repre- 
 sented as gross and vulgar to the last degree ; as sanctimo- 
 nious hypocrites, turning up their eyes to heaven as if they 
 were very devout, while in the corners of those eyes is the 
 disgusting leer of sensuality. I am amazed that such car- 
 icatures can be permitted in a Catholic country. Yet here 
 they are. The paper appears every week, and has a large 
 circulation. It is a perpetual thorn in the side of the 
 clerical party, and many efforts have been made to sup- 
 press it, but without success. So in the clubs, as at the 
 
LET SPANIARDS FIGHT THEIR OWN BATTLES. 255 
 
 Atheneum in Madrid, every hit at the priests is received 
 with peals of laughter. 
 
 While I refer to these things, I beg not to be misunder- 
 stood, as if I felt a secret joy that the Catholic Church of 
 Spain should be thus discredited and disgraced. Far from 
 it. On the contrary, I regret that dishonor should thereby 
 be brought upon our common Christianity. But I do say : 
 If that Church is to be attacked, let it be by men of its 
 own race and nation. Let Spaniards fight their own bat- 
 tles : they will not thank us for meddling in them. If the 
 priests are to be ridiculed out of Spain, let it be by the wit 
 of the countrymen of Cervantes, not by the more clumsy 
 efforts of men who speak another language, and know 
 little of the proud susceptibilities of the Spanish race. 
 
 It is here that we must draw the line of prudence and 
 caution against over-zeal in proselyting, understanding 
 that Spaniards will take from their own countrymen what 
 they will not take from us. We must not presume too much 
 because we see them making fun of the priests. That is a 
 pastime which they reserve to themselves, and the stranger, 
 if he is wise, will not intermeddle therewith. If he does, 
 he will be quickly undeceived. If, for example, a foreigner, 
 an Englishman or an American, encouraged by these 
 demonstrations in the Atheneum Club, or in any public 
 assembly, were to rise and proceed to declare that Pro- 
 testantism was a better form of Christianity, the audience 
 would be silent there would be no response ; and if he 
 were to assort that the Spaniards themselves did not be- 
 lieve in the Catholic Church, they would indignantly deny 
 it! Here then is a singular condition of the educated 
 classes : they have lost their old belief, and have not found 
 a new one. And yet with the Spanish tenacity in holding 
 to what they have received by tradition, they cling to the 
 ancient Church, declaring that it is the Church of the 
 
256 WHAT PROTESTANTS CAN DO. 
 
 State, in which their fathers lived and died, and in which 
 they too will live and die. To approach a great people in 
 such a state of mind, when they do not ask our advice 
 either in politics or religion, requires all one's tact, patience, 
 and skill. It is not courage that is wanted, so much as that 
 wisdom without which courage is thrown away. 
 
 Perhaps some of my friends in Spain will receive these 
 cautions with a degree of impatience, and ask " "What then 
 is there left for us to do ? " I beg their pardon for seem- 
 ing to give advice, or even making a suggestion, to men 
 who are far better informed than I ; and yet, if I may 
 presume upon the freedom which ought always to exist 
 among brethren, I would say to them, as a great man, 
 when dying, said to his son : " Do all the good you can in 
 the world, but make as little noise about it as possible." 
 Begin with the utmost quietness, shunning notoriety 
 rather than seeking it. Be content to make your work 
 among the humble and the lowly. It was here that 
 Christianity gained its first victories. Feed the hungry 
 and clothe the naked ; gather the poor children out of the 
 slums into your orphanages and your schools. Thus you 
 will preach the Gospel in the most effectual way by living 
 it. Prove the purity of your doctrines by the purity of 
 your lives, and you will by-and-by disarm prejudice and 
 win confidence. This much many of you have already 
 gained, of whom I have heard even Catholics speak with the 
 highest respect. They find that the strangers whom they 
 had been taught to regard as emissaries of evil, are, on 
 the contrary, excellent fathers and mothers, sons, brothers, 
 and sisters, whom they are glad to have come and live 
 among them. This in itself is no small achievement. 
 
 But some will think this is working in a very slow way ; 
 and if they are missionaries from the other side of the 
 ocean, they are likely to have a fire in the rear, in the half- 
 
A PAPAL NOT A PAGAN COUNTRY. 257 
 
 curious, half-complaining, inquiries of a constituency which 
 is impatient for immediate results. Americans must do 
 everything on a grand scale. They expect to see "a 
 nation born in a day." Some of them already ask me 
 " When is Spain to become Protestant ? " To this I have 
 a short answer : in my opinion, NEVER ! At this they are 
 very much taken aback, and feel almost as if the plans of 
 the Almighty were going to be defeated. They can see 
 in that Church nothing but evil, and cry out against it : 
 " O Babylon, that art to be destroyed ! " If they could 
 have their way, they would gladly see the earth open 
 under it, as it did under Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, 
 that it might "go down quick into hell." But in this 
 feeling I do not share, because I make a distinction 
 between a Papal and a Pagan country, and do not con- 
 sider sending missionaries among Spanish Catholics quite 
 the same as sending them among the heathen. With all 
 the errors and superstitions of the Church of Kome, it is 
 still a part of Christendom. It has the faith of the early 
 ages, which to some extent at least still bears its blessed 
 fruit. I have asked the most zealous of Protestant mis- 
 sionaries, "Are there not some of the Catholics whom you 
 would recognize as sincere Christians ? " " Oh yes," they 
 answer, "no doubt there are such," although they make 
 the number but small, and say that even these are ignorant 
 and superstitious. But that is better than nothing ; it is 
 better to have a small remnant, a few who are simple- 
 minded, humble, and devout, than to have none ; and the 
 Church in w^hich such piety is nurtured, is not to be 
 lightly overturned. So long as the Church of Spain is 
 the only Church its people know, it is safer not to lay 
 rude hands upon it. I should be very sorry to see it 
 destroyed, unless there were something better to take its 
 place. If the Catholic Church were swept out of existence. 
 
T1IK PROTESTANT SCHOOLS. 
 
 Spain would not become Protestant : it would become 
 Infidel, and the last state of that country would be worse 
 than the first. 
 
 " Then/' say some, dispirited, " we may as well shut up 
 our churches and our schools, and go home." By no 
 means. There is a right way and a wrong way to do 
 everything. Because one course may be mistaken, it does 
 not follow that another may not be wise, judicious, and 
 successful. Between these two opposite courses a zeal 
 without knowledge on the one hand, and inactivity and 
 indifference on the other is there not a wise, dignified, 
 and conciliatory course, in which there is no sacrifice of 
 principle or of dignity, by which Protestant missionaries 
 may accomplish the greatest amount of good, with the 
 least amount of evil? I think there is, and the best proof 
 of it is in what the missionaries have actually done : for in 
 the main they have been very wise and discreet Since I 
 have been in Spain, I have seen the beginnings of 
 Protestant missions in different places. They are all very 
 modest, and not of a character to excite alarm. Each has 
 as its nucleus a little church to which is attached a school, 
 sometimes several schools. The children are generally 
 from the very poor, who receive, with religions instruction, 
 the rudiments of what we in America would call a 
 common school education. Sometimes girls are taught 
 various industries by which they may earn a living. They 
 are plainly and yet decently clothed, and the school is a 
 model of neatness and order. No visitor can fail to be 
 touched by the devotion of the teachers and the eagerness 
 of the children to learn. It is the first time that many of 
 these little waifs have had experience of such tender: 
 and when they join in singing the simple hymns, and in 
 repeating together "Our Father who art in heaven." who 
 can doubt that there is One who listens to the cry of these 
 
REACTION" OX THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. 259 
 
 homeless, fatherless children ? Such a school is a centre 
 of civilization, and if it could be multiplied by hundreds 
 and thousands all over Spain, they would transform the 
 character of the next generation. 
 
 This is a work of Christian charity, to which the most 
 bigoted Catholics cannot object. If they do, we have 
 only to say to them, " Go and do likewise ! " Some have 
 already followed the excellent example. Herein is one 
 important, though incidental, effect of Protestant mis- 
 sions, in the reaction upon the Catholic Church itself. In 
 Spain, as in many other countries where one great Church 
 has had undisputed mastery of the field, it has grown neg- 
 ligent, and a rebuke or an example from the humblest 
 quarter has quickened it into new life. In many places I 
 was told that the establishment of Protestant schools had 
 been followed by the opening of Catholic schools. So 
 much the better. The more knowledge is spread abroad, 
 the better it will be for the country. 
 
 The subject is a very large one, which I have intro- 
 duced merely to offer these suggestions. The position of 
 Protestantism in Spain is a very difficult one. It is a small 
 minority in the presence of a large, powerful, and arrogant 
 majority a majority that bears it no good will, and would 
 gladly trample it out of existence. And yet it by no means 
 follows that its influence is insignificant. The power of a 
 minority even of a small minority is sometimes very 
 great. It is a check upon the larger body, keeping it from 
 many things which it ought not to do ; while it spurs it to 
 do many things which otherwise it would not have done. 
 
 Of course the position of a Protestant pastor is one to 
 try not only his courage, but his patience and forbearance. 
 He comes into a community with no purpose but to do 
 good, and finds himself an object of suspicion. Knowing 
 how unjust this is, he feels that it is very cruel, and is 
 
260 PROTESTANT PASTORS IN SPAIN. 
 
 tempted to resent it. But lie should remember that it is 
 generally the effect of ignorance, and that the only way to 
 meet it is to live it down. If he can only control himself 
 at such a time, and "forbear threatening," he is sure in the 
 end to gain the victory. It is not in any people not even 
 in the Spaniards, reserved and distant as they are to dis- 
 like one who is trying only to do them good. Continued 
 kindness, with tact and patience, will conquer obstacles 
 that no amount of courage and fiery zeal could beat down. 
 In the few weeks that I have been in Spain, I have 
 become very much attracted to the Protestant pastors 
 whom I have met. They are a noble body of men, 
 occupying a position of great difficulty, with a spirit and 
 courage that are admirable. They are worthy of all the 
 confidence of their supporters in England and America, 
 who will not be disappointed in their representatives, 
 if they do not expect too much, entertaining ideas and hopes 
 which are exaggerated and absurd. Spain is a slow 
 country. Everything moves slowly. The proud Castil- 
 ian walks with measured step : it would be beneath his 
 dignity to run. Even the trains on the railroads do not 
 go at the same speed as in other countries. Everything 
 moves slowly, except political revolutions, which may take 
 place in twenty-four hours, to be followed by a counter- 
 revolution a week later. But this is merely the ebb and 
 flow of a tide. Everything which is really worth having, 
 such as popular education and religious growth, must be 
 a work, not of days or weeks, but of years and generations. 
 Our brethren are doing nobly. Let them not be impa- 
 tient, but "hold the fort," resolved, "having done all, to 
 stand " ; and thus slowly and silently, but surely, they 
 will render an inestimable service to the sacred cause of 
 Religion and of Liberty. 
 
CHAPTER XVIH. 
 MIDNIGHT MASS IN" THE CATHEDRAL OF SEVILLE. 
 
 If I were to begin this chapter in what I may call the 
 " staccato " style affected by some writers of romance, who 
 introduce a story as a play-writer introduces a play, giving 
 the place, time, and dramatis personce, I should put in the 
 foreground of my story a small group looking in each 
 other's faces by starlight, or by " the lantern dimly burn- 
 ing," whose position might be designated in this wise : 
 
 Scene : THE ALHAMBRA. 
 Time: THE DAY BEFOKE CHRISTMAS. 
 Hour : FOUR O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. 
 Characters : TRAVELLERS EMERGING FROM THE WASHINGTON 
 IRVING HOTEL. 
 
 One of said travellers is grumbling at being routed out 
 of bed at that unseasonable hour, from which I take him 
 to be an Englishman, although it is not easy to distinguish 
 him by his speech, which is curiously compounded, as 
 when he says, with a droll mixture of French and English, 
 that " it is tres bothersome," so that I am puzzled to make 
 him out, what manner of man he is, until I hear him use 
 the word "skedaddle," which tells very plainly where he 
 
262 LEAVING GRANADA. 
 
 got his education, since lie knows how to speak, not only 
 English but "American." He turns out to be a Mexican 
 who has lived a good deal in " the States," where he has 
 picked up a choice variety of slang. His fellow-travellers 
 are in the same mood with him except myself, who have 
 such a habit of looking forward eagerly to new scenes that 
 bring new pleasures, that no hour is too early for me. 
 And so, with a word or two to cheer up my dolorous 
 companions, we all bundle into the omnibus, and rattle 
 down the hill, and the Alhambra knows us no more. 
 
 As was to be expected we arrived at the station nearly 
 an hour sooner than was necessary : the office for selling 
 tickets was not open : and we had the pleasant occupation 
 of walking up and down in the chill morning air, which 
 did not improve tempers that had been sufficiently sharp- 
 ened before. 
 
 However all things have an end. At length the sleepy 
 station-master made his appearance ; we were able to get 
 our tickets and take our seats ; and the thermometer of 
 our spirits rose as we moved away. Even the Mexican 
 recovered his good nature, for he was not at ah 1 a cross- 
 grained fellow ; and as soon as he had had his little 
 grumble (there is nothing like being out with it when the 
 fit is on), he brightened up and was as cheerful as the rest 
 of us through the day. 
 
 One must have been perverse indeed to resist the 
 influence of that morning, as the sun rose above the 
 Sierra Nevada, before which all "glooms and glums" 
 dissolved like morning dews, as a Spring-like warmth 
 crept through our frames. Though we were returning 
 on our path, yet for a large part of the distance it was 
 new, since we had passed over it in the darkness before ; 
 and again we had to repeat that there is no fairer land 
 beneath the sun than Andalusia, whose vast plains here 
 
GOING HOME TO CHRISTMAS. 263 
 
 and tliere rise and swell, like billows of the ocean, or like 
 our own glorious prairies of the West, that are here 
 surpassed only in climate, which is soft and mild when 
 our prairies are drifted with snow. To-day (was it 
 because it was the day before Christmas ?) the smile of 
 God seemed to rest upon the world which He had made. 
 It was no longer full of sorrow and of sin, but bright with 
 sunshine and happiness. At every station were swarms 
 of country people, some of whom had come with chickens 
 to sell to those not already provided for the feast ; while 
 the greater part were here to greet their kinsfolk who 
 were arriving or departing, the third class cars being 
 filled with sons and daughters coming to keep the day 
 with the old folks at home ; and there was the usual 
 embracing which followed the sight of beloved faces. It 
 was all so like our American Thanksgiving that it gave me a 
 pang to think that I was not also going home ; that for me 
 
 that night 
 
 " No blazing hearth would burn." 
 
 But it would be selfish to let such a thought cloud even 
 for a moment the joy of seeing so much happiness. That 
 day revealed to me more of Spanish domestic life, than I 
 h^id seen in all Spain before ; and a pleasant side it was 
 of what may seem to strangers a somewhat rugged, formal, 
 and fastidious race. A people must have a great deal that 
 is attractive, that have such a love for the places where they 
 were born, and for the dear ones that still abide under the 
 old roof-tree. 
 
 At Bobadilla we met the train coming from Malaga by 
 a pass through the Sierra Nevada, which reminds Euro- 
 pean travellers of passes in the Alps, and Americans of the 
 caiions of the Rocky Mountains a pass so difficult as to 
 try the utmost resources of engineering. The railroad 
 winds its way through deep defiles overhung by tremen- 
 
264 BULLS FOR THE ARENA. 
 
 dous cliffs, through black gorges into which the sun never 
 shines, from which it mounts slowly to dizzy heights, and 
 creeps along the edge of precipices where the traveller 
 holds his breath. Of this magnificent work, Spain may 
 well be proud. It is by such triumphs over the greatest 
 obstacles of nature, that the mountains are married to the 
 sea, and plain answers to plain across the Alpine heights 
 of the Sierra Nevada. 
 
 Continuing our way westward for hours, it was four 
 o'clock in the afternoon when we approached the great 
 city on the banks of the Guadalquivir, once the capital of 
 Spain, and still "the most Spanish" of all her cities. 
 Seville has no advantages of height to make it imposing 
 as one approaches it from a distance. It is not a city set 
 on a hill, but in a valley, with a broad river before it, and 
 plains far and wide around it. In all Spain there is 
 nothing richer than the valley of the Guadalquivir. Just 
 now I observe a new feature in the landscape : I see, not 
 " the cattle on a thousand hills," but herds grazing on the 
 plain, which attract our attention for a special reason 
 they are not herds of Jerseys or Alderneys, imported for 
 the dairy farms needed to supply the wants of a great city, 
 but herds of another kind, provided to meet a peculiar 
 Spanish want, viz : to furnish bulls for the ring ! Yonder 
 are a couple of horsemen, who, to judge from their broad 
 sombreros shading bronzed and rugged faces, might be 
 gauchos riding out to lasso wild cattle on the pampas of 
 South America, but who are simply driving, or coaxing, a 
 number of bulls toward the city. This is not always an 
 easy matt or, as they are of a breed noted for fierceness, 
 and are sometimes refractory ; but they are enticed into 
 the way to destruction by domesticated bulls, who lead 
 them along unconscious of their fate. Probably these are 
 intended for the entertainment of next Sunday, which, 
 
CHRISTMAS EVE. 265 
 
 being the Sunday after Christmas, must be duly honored, 
 although this is not the season for bull-fights, which does 
 not begin until Easter. But whether that be the immedi- 
 ate destination of these magnificent brutes, sooner or later 
 they, and the hundreds left in the pasture behind them, 
 will find their way to the Plaza de Toros. 
 
 But here we are at the gates of Seville, and as soon 
 as we can disembark, are glad to find, I will not say our 
 " warmest welcome at an inn," but a very cordial greeting 
 in the spacious patio of the Hotel de Madrid. 
 
 On my way hither, I had been delighting myself with 
 visions of what I would do when we should arrive. After 
 the broken rest of the night, I was " dead tired," and it 
 pleased me to think how, alter a good dinner, and an hour 
 or two spent in the most delightful occupation of a traveller 
 reading the letters that would "be awaiting me I would 
 plunge into a hot bath, and wash away the dust of Spain, 
 and then sink into a dreamless slumber, which should not 
 be disturbed till the dawn of another day. But hardly 
 had we arrived before it was whispered about that, as this 
 was Christmas Eve, there was to be a Midnight Mass in 
 the Cathedral! This was indeed something to see and 
 hear, even in the extremity of fatigue ; and so I compro- 
 mised with my weariness by taking an after-dinner nap, 
 asking to be called at ten o'clock. 
 
 Promptly at the hour Mr. Gulick knocked at my door, 
 and we were soon in the streets, mingling with the crowds 
 that gather in every Spanish city on the occasion of a 
 fiesta. Entering a cafe, we took our seats at a little table, 
 where we fortified ourselves with small cups of strong 
 black coffee, which would be sure to keep us awake, and 
 then repaired to the Cathedral. 
 
 It was eleven o'clock when we went up the broad steps, 
 and found ourselves in the interior of one of the greatest 
 
266 THE INTERIOR. 
 
 temples of Christendom. It was not merely its vast size 
 which impressed us (although it is over four hundred feet 
 long, and nearly three hundred feet wide), but the perfect 
 proportion of the whole, that gave it an air of majesty, 
 which is perhaps the truest test of what is grand in archi- 
 tecture. The height is in proportion to the length and 
 the breadth, the nave rising to a hundred and fifty feet, 
 while the dome is still higher. How enormous must be 
 the columns which support such a roof and such a dome ! 
 Though massive as the weight resting on them requires, 
 yet they are of such height that a perfect symmetry is 
 preserved, as in some stately trees which combine grace 
 and strength, striking down deep into the earth, and yet 
 soaring to the sky. Such is the Cathedral of Seville, of 
 which we cannot say that its founders "builded better 
 than they knew " : for they began with an avowed purpose 
 "to erect a church which should have no equal," and if 
 they have not succeeded in surpassing all others, yet it is 
 enough that they have left, as the monument of their 
 pious zeal, one of the grandest temples ever reared by 
 human hands. 
 
 I have already had occasion more than once to observe 
 the singular effect produced in Spanish cathedrals by 
 placing the choir, not at the end, but in the centre. It is 
 an arrangement which has grown out of their very size. 
 They are so vast that they are quite unfitted for ordinary 
 worship. There is no congregation that can fill them, nor 
 would it be in the power of the human voice to reach to 
 "the utmost bound" of the area covered by these mighty 
 arches or domes. From this it became a necessity to 
 fence off a portion, so as to have a segment of the whole 
 more in proportion to the wants of the worshippers. This 
 is done in the English cathedrals, but the part so reserved 
 is at the end of a nave or a transept, so as not to interfere 
 
THE CENTRAL CHOIR. 267 
 
 with the architectural effect produced when one is able to 
 take in the whole interior at one sweep of the eye. But in 
 Spain, as the choir is planted in the very centre of the 
 cathedral, half way down the nave, it breaks the view, not 
 from one point, but from every point. It is magnificent 
 in itself, rich with carving and gold ; but this very mag- 
 nificence, as it attracts attention, interferes still more with 
 the grand effect of the whole. 
 
 But even with this drawback, the Cathedral of Seville 
 is so enormous that the effect, though diminished, cannot 
 be destroyed. For, after all, the choir takes up but the 
 middle of one aisle, and even though that be the central 
 one, yet as there are jfe, besides a number of chapels on 
 each side, which add to the breadth, the greater part of 
 the Cathedral remains with its majesty unimpaired. 
 
 And this central choir has some incidental advantages, 
 especially at night, as it furnishes a centre of light in the 
 midst of surrounding darkness, or rather, of a space so 
 vast that its outer portions are quite dim, so that one who 
 does not wish to come too near the central "blaze and 
 blare," can retreat afar off, where he can see and hear as 
 much or as little as he will ; or if he likes to be with his 
 own thoughts, can hide himself in remote recesses, in 
 which the sound of voices will be softened by distance, 
 and come to him faintly and soothingly as he sits alone 
 in the mighty shadows. 
 
 So was it with us for the greater part of the first hour 
 that we spent in the Cathedral. As we entered a service 
 was in progress, though not the service which we had 
 come to attend. It was only vespers, given perhaps at 
 an unusual hour of the night, as a prelude to the grander 
 solemnity that was to follow. The choir was brilliantly 
 lighted, while the rest of the vast building was in shadow. 
 During the time that this vesper service was going on, we 
 
268 ALONE IN THE SHADOWS. 
 
 strayed away into the side aisles and chapels, where the 
 voices heard at a distance and at that hour, produced an 
 effect which I will not say was more weird and ghostlike, 
 but more thrilh'ng, than if we had sat in the centre of the 
 choir, under the blazing lights, and getting the full power 
 of a hundred voices. 
 
 "While thus wandering round and round, we came to 
 a dim corner of the tremendous pile, where, leaving my 
 companion to continue his observations, I sat down at 
 the foot of a column in the deep shadow, and gave myself 
 up to my own thoughts. These great temples, reared by 
 the toil of generations, affect me like mountains or the sea, 
 with an overpowering impression of our own littleness. 
 This Cathedral was begun nearly five centuries ago, and 
 was more than a hundred years in building. Thus it was 
 the work of three or four generations, and has been wor- 
 shipped in by at least ten generations. Around us are 
 the memorials of a far distant past. Under the pavement 
 sleeps the son of Christopher Columbus. Beneath the 
 altar in the Royal chapel rests the body of St. Ferdinand, 
 one of the old Spanish heroes, like the Cid, whose valor is 
 one of the traditions of the country. His fame was a 
 little marred when they made a saint of him, for soldiers 
 do not make good saints. Especially is the title hardly 
 earned when one is canonized simply because, King as he 
 was, he brought fagots to kindle the flames to burn her- 
 etics ! But saint or warrior, he is still the hero of Seville, 
 which he delivered from the Moors more than six hundred 
 years ago ; and every year the troops do him honor, as 
 they march into the Cathedral, and ground their arms and 
 lower their colors before the silver shrine in which they 
 keep his bones. The Giralda tower is older than the Span- 
 ish Conquest, for it was erected by the Moors as the mina- 
 ret of a Mosque, second only to that of Cordova, which 
 
PLAYING THE NATIONAL HYMN. 269 
 
 nearly seven centuries ago covered the place where the 
 Cathedral now stands. When the Moors were driven out 
 of Seville, they would have destroyed the Giralda, unwill- 
 ing that such a monument of their power and their relig- 
 ion should fall into the hands of their enemies, but happily 
 it was preserved to be the glory of another and worthier 
 temple of the Most High. 
 
 Compared with these lapses of time with the age of 
 tower or cathedral how little appears the life of one man, 
 or of one generation ! "What is our life ? The wind pass- 
 eth over it, and it is gone. Man cometh up like a flower, 
 and is cut down. To-night a wanderer from the far-off 
 Western world sits upon this stone ; to-morrow he is gone ; 
 a few days more and he disappears, not only from this 
 place, but from the earth, and is no more seen. 
 
 At length the vespers ended, and the priests filed out 
 of the choir. Up to this point the service had been ren- 
 dered by voices only. But now the organs began to make 
 the air to tremble. As there are two in the Cathedral, both 
 of a size proportioned to the place (their pipes have been 
 compared to the columns of Fingal's Cave), they have a 
 tremendous volume ; but at first they let forth only their 
 faintest notes, the mere whisperings of their mighty voices. 
 Gradually they swelled in compass, but instead of contin- 
 uing in the tone of the preceding chantings and prayers, 
 to our amazement they suddenly struck up the Spanish 
 national hymn ! This certainly touched a chord in every 
 Spanish breast, but not exactly that of religion, although 
 this people are accustomed to mingle religion and patriot- 
 ism in a way not common with other nations ; and now the 
 officers and soldiers who were present, felt a double inspi- 
 ration, as if, after listening to a military mass, they had 
 suddenly heard the blast of a bugle which called them to 
 battle. After this patriotic outburst came another still more 
 
270 THE MIDNIGHT MASS. 
 
 lively and gay, which my companion said was neither more 
 nor less than a well known Spanish dancing tune ! With 
 my sober American ideas, I could not understand this ab- 
 rupt change. Was it that the tension of feeling needed to 
 be relieved by some lighter strain ? Or was it that these airs 
 were thought not an unworthy part of sacred music ? This 
 does not imply any want of reverence for the holy place. 
 It is the national temperament, which must express itself 
 in its own way even in religious worship. Sometimes it 
 goes even farther than music. Once in the year, at the 
 Festival of Corpus Christi, a joyousness which cannot be 
 restrained breaks forth into a dance, in which the choristers 
 of the Cathedral, dressed in gay costume, perform before 
 the high altar, as David did before the Ark. After this we 
 need not be surprised that Spaniards regard the most joy- 
 ous music as the most fit to celebrate an event which, more 
 than any other, brought joy into the world. 
 
 But now the organ ceased as the clock tolled the hour 
 of midnight, and a new procession was formed in the choir 
 to move to the high altar where Mass was to be celebrated. 
 The altar was blazing with lights, before which the priests 
 stood in their brilliant vestments ; and there was a pro- 
 found stilb&ess, when a deep voice began to intone the 
 prayers. As the service approached the great theme of the 
 Nativity, a priest came forward into the pulpit, and while 
 two attendants held the heavy wax candles that cast light 
 on a huge volume before him, read from the Gospel the 
 story of the Birth of Christ : "And there were shepherds 
 in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night " : and 
 when he came to " the multitude of the heavenly host, 
 praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, 
 Peace on earth, Good will to men," all the bells in the 
 Giralda tower began to ring, as if they would send back 
 the tidings to the listening heavens, 
 
THK TE DEUM. 271 
 
 Perhaps an observer more familiar with the ritual of 
 this service, may say that I do not follow its precise order. 
 But no matter for that : I note such points as I could 
 understand the best, and as struck me most. The Te 
 Deum needs no interpreter nor defender, as no " sacrifice 
 of praise " offered on earth breathes more of the spirit of 
 heavenly adoration. In whatever church, or in whatever 
 language, it may be said or sung, the words are always 
 sacred and divine. And here we may note one benefit of 
 an universal language (as an offset to the many disadvan- 
 tages of worshipping God in an unknown tongue) : that 
 scholars at least can follow, if the common people cannot, 
 in Latin what they could not in Spanish. And there were 
 passages which in the sonorous Latin tongue came with a 
 power that was quite overwhelming. Hare, in his " "Wan- 
 derings in Spain," says of a service which he attended at 
 Pampeluna : " The Christmas mass in the Cathedral was 
 magnificent. No service in Italy can compare with the 
 solemn bursts of music which follow the thrilling solos 
 sung in these old Spanish churches." I leave it to my 
 readers to imagine the effect of these "solemn bursts," 
 when, above the swell of the organ, the voices rose high 
 and clear, pouring forth those magnificent strains, in which 
 the Church on earth seems to join with the Church in 
 heaven : 
 
 THOU ART THE KlNG OF GLORY, O CHRIST I 
 THOU ART THE EVERLASTING SON OP THE FATHER I 
 WE BELIEVE THAT THOU SHALT GOME TO BE OUR JUDGE : 
 WE THEREFORE PRAY THEE HELP THY SERVANTS WHOM THOU 
 HAST REDEEMED WITH THY PRECIOUS BLOOD. 
 
 When the ringing of the little bell at the altar 
 announced the raising of the host, the whole assembly fell 
 on their knees. I had withdrawn into the shadow of a 
 column, that my standing might not offend the worship- 
 
272 SINCERE DEVOTION. 
 
 pers : for if I could not join with them in that act of 
 devotion, I would not seem wanting in respect ; and I 
 must confess that the scene at that moment the vast 
 Cathedral, with the multitude kneeling on the pavement, 
 not only near the altar and the choir, but off in the side 
 aisles, where they could be but dimly seen was one of 
 the most impressive that I have ever witnessed. 
 
 I know how lightly some are accustomed to speak of 
 such a service, as if it were a kind of theatrical display 
 intended purely for scenic effect. Some indeed go so far 
 as to sneer at every form of worship in the Roman Catho- 
 lic Church. But who am I to sit in judgment on my 
 fellow-creatures? What degree of devotion there was 
 underneath this service, He to whom it was offered only 
 knows. But more perhaps than we are wont to recognize. 
 Certainly we cannot object to prayers which are preserved 
 in our Protestant liturgies. And who can doubt that by 
 many they are offered "with a humble, lowly, penitent, 
 and obedient heart," and with faith in Him who is for 
 us all Protestant and Catholic alike the one and only 
 Redeemer ? 
 
 In the sacristy of the Cathedral is preserved a painting 
 more than two hundred years old, that has a history. The 
 subject is the taking down of the body of Jesus from the 
 Cross. It was painted by the master of Murillo, and was 
 the admiration of his greater pupil, who would sit before 
 it for hours ; and once, when asked by the sacristan why 
 he lingered so long, he answered that " he was waiting 
 till those holy men had finished their work." He could 
 not bear to lose its presence even in death, and asked that 
 it might be hung over his grave, as it was in the church 
 where he was buried. What constituted for him the pecu- 
 liar fascination of that painting? Was it the mere picture ? 
 Not that alone, but something more, which spoke not to 
 
LEAVING THE CATHEDRAL. 273 
 
 his artistic sense, but to his soul something in which he 
 saw the form of One who " bore his sins in His own body 
 on the tree." 
 
 And so will I believe that' among those who knelt that 
 night on the pavement of the Cathedral of Seville, were 
 many true worshippers, humble in heart as in attitude, 
 who saw in the lifting up of the host on the altar a sign 
 of the lifting up of Christ on the Cross, to whom therefore 
 it was a symbol of the Great Sacrifice, and who, bending 
 low before their Redeemer, fervently prayed " O Lamb of 
 God, who takest away the sin of the world, grant us Thy 
 peace." 
 
 The Midnight Mass was ended ; the priests who had 
 stood before the high altar passed out one by one ; the 
 lights were extinguished ; the organs which had been 
 rolling their billows of sound through the long-drawn 
 aisles and among the lofty arches, were still ; and follow- 
 ing the dense throng, we moved slowly away. It was 
 after one o'clock when we left the Cathedral. As we came 
 out into the street, the stars were shining brightly, as on 
 that blessed night when Christ was born into the world. 
 Directly overhead Orion with his glittering belt ruled 
 monarch of the midnight sky no unworthy symbol of 
 One greater than Orion, who through all the ages holds 
 on His victorious way. Far above the unworthy thoughts 
 of men untouched by any weak conceptions of ours, by 
 differences of churches or of creeds HE LIVES. The mid- 
 night is past, and though it is still hours before the dawn, 
 yet the day is come which brings immortal hope. Look- 
 ing up to the iinclouded heaven, we could almost hear the 
 angels sing " To you is born this day a Saviour which is 
 Christ the Lord " tidings as precious now as when her- 
 alded to the shepherds of Bethlehem, and which I press 
 close to my poor heart when it is " trembling and afraid." 
 
274 CHRISTUS VINCIT. 
 
 The advent of Christ is the hope of the world : it is the 
 centre round which history revolves. Empires pass away, 
 but " of His kingdom and dominion there is no end." 
 
 In the city of Rome is an obelisk of Egyptian granite, 
 brought from the Nile two thousand years ago as one of 
 the spoils of many lands which fed the pride of Borne, as 
 they bore witness to her universal dominion. To-day that 
 Empire is gone, and the trophy of Pagan emperors stands 
 in front of St. Peter's to tell of a victory greater than any 
 recorded on the Column of Trojan, as it bears this inscrip- 
 tion : 
 
 CHKISTUS VINCIT 
 
 CHRISTUS REGNAT 
 
 CHRISTUS IMPERAT 
 
 CHRISTUS AB OMNI MALO 
 
 PLEBEM SUAM 
 
 DEFENDAT. 
 
 On this foundation all things good stand fast forever ; 
 the world will not decay, nor the race perish, for which 
 such a Deliverer was born. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 PICTURES AND PALACES, BULL-FIGHTS AND BEGGARS. 
 
 After such a night, the morning seemed tame and dull : 
 for what scene beheld in the garish light of day could 
 " overcome us " like that holy midnight ? But as the hours 
 drew on, and I took my walks abroad, I found other objects 
 of interest other churches, only less glorious than the 
 Cathedral ; and galleries rich in treasures of art. Seville 
 is the city of Murillo. Here he was born and lived and 
 died ; and no palace is so full of interest as the little house, 
 in an obscure quarter of the town, where you climb up a 
 narrow staircase to the small upper room which was his 
 studio. Here, with no inspiration but his own genius and 
 the Andalusian sunshine pouring in at his window, the 
 mighty Spaniard wrought for years ; dreaming as only 
 poets dream ; and then seeking to give expression to his 
 dreams, till he almost took the sunlight out of heaven to 
 suffuse the glowing canvases with which he illumined the 
 city of his birth. 
 
 Although it is more than six hundred years since Seville 
 was taken from the Moors, it retains many traces of their 
 occupation and monuments of their architecture. The 
 most conspicuous, of course, is the Giralda, and next to 
 
276 THE ALCAZAR. 
 
 this is the Alcazar, which may rank with the Alhambra as 
 an illustration of Moorish luxury and splendor. Built for 
 the Moorish kings, it was occupied after them by their 
 Christian successors, some of whom, I am sorry to say, 
 were more Christian in name than in life : as, for example, 
 Pedro the Cruel, who in this very palace, which ought to 
 have been a seat of royal hospitality, invited his half- 
 brother to be his guest, and then slew hini with his own 
 hand, for which he had the honor of being killed himself 
 by that brother's brother a sweet picture of the domestic 
 life of kings and princes in those good old times ! And 
 to complete the confusion, the King and his murdered 
 brother are buried together in the Cathedral, under the 
 altar in the Koyal Chapel, close by the dust of St. Ferdi- 
 nand ! Death brings peace at last, if it be only between 
 the murderer and his victim ; but it is not often that they 
 sleep in the same grave. What a happy royal family that 
 must have been ! Truly, these brothers were lovely and 
 pleasant in their lives, and in death they are not divided. 
 
 In the Alcazar, Charles V. and Philip II. held Court in 
 their visits to Seville. It was in the line of succession to 
 these royal pageants that we found the large patio crowded 
 with carriages that had brought a brilliant retinue of 
 courtiers to a reception of Queen Isabella. 
 
 But Seville is not merely a city of the past, of faded 
 grandeur and magnificence : it has still a vigorous life as a 
 centre of commerce, as one may see by the shipping which 
 crowds the quays, and keeps up an active trade with Eng- 
 land and all parts of Europe. 
 
 Some idea of its present wealth and consequence may be 
 obtained by a visit to a modern palace, that of the Duke 
 de Montpensier, the son of Louis Philippe, who, though a 
 French prince, after his marriage with the sister of Isabella, 
 took up his residence in Spain, and is as thorough a Span- 
 
THE DUKE DE MONTPENSIER. 277 
 
 iard as can be found this side the Pyrenees, having Span- 
 ish ideas of honor, in proof of which he has fought a duel 
 and killed his man, and " all that sort of thing." He has 
 also aspired to be a power in Spanish politics, and has 
 more than once figured as a Pretender to the Throne, 
 which has been so often vacant since he came to reside in 
 Spain that it was quite natural he should think that it 
 was waiting for him to occupy. He never got so far as 
 that. The nearest he came to it was when his daughter 
 Mercedes was married to the King (she was the first wife 
 of the late Alfonso), on which occasion it is said that, so 
 exalted were his ideas of royalty, he fell upon his knees 
 before her and kissed her hand, as the fit homage to be 
 paid by a subject (even though that subject were her own 
 father) to a Queen of Spain ! To have clasped her in his 
 arms, as an English father would have done, and given her 
 a good smack upon her blushing cheek, would have been 
 such a violation of Spanish etiquette and propriety as 
 would have stamped him as a low-bred foreigner ! After 
 this, there is no telling what might have happened if the 
 poor man had been made King himself. It might have 
 given him a fit of apoplexy. From this terrible fate he 
 was saved by being permitted to remain in his former 
 obscurity. But if not a King, he manages to get along 
 comfortably in his palace, with its endless apartments, 
 filled with paintings and every sign of unbounded wealth, 
 the grounds stretching out into beautiful gardens, with 
 fountains playing, and paths winding under the shade of 
 palms that invite to repose. 
 
 As we came out from this truly royal residence, it was 
 the hour when the fashionable world of Seville turns out 
 for its afternoon drive ; and taking a carriage, we joined 
 in the long procession, riding for miles up and down the 
 banks of the Guadalquivir. 
 
278 THE TOBACCO FACTORY. 
 
 It is rather a come-down from the society of princes 
 and dukes and Spanish grandees, to turn from them all to 
 a tobacco factory ! But this is one of the most novel and 
 extraordinary sights of Seville. As the sale of tobacco is a 
 Government monopoly, the manufacture is on a large scale, 
 with every precaution against the exclusive right being 
 evaded by foes without or within. The building is of 
 enormous size, covering nearly as much ground as the 
 Great Pyramid, and surrounded, like a fortress, with a 
 moat, so that it can be guarded on every side, giving no 
 opportunity for smugglers to get in by some hidden way 
 of approach, and carry off the precious weed on which 
 depends so much of the revenue of Spain. 
 
 A quadrangle so vast that it has twenty-eight interior 
 patios, large and small, must have a hundred sides to so 
 many squares ; in which there are five thousand women and 
 girls employed in the preparation of tobacco ; some taking 
 the stalks in pieces and spreading out the leaves ; others 
 cutting them in strips ; others winding them into cigars or 
 cigarettes work which they do with great rapidity ; some 
 putting the cigars in little bundles of fifty each for sale in 
 the Spanish shops, or in larger packages for exportation ; 
 while the ends and clippings, even to the finest powder 
 that is dropped from the leaf, are saved for filling the cigar- 
 ettes, or for making snuff! The whole amount of tobacco 
 thus consumed is not less than two millions of pounds in a 
 year. What infinite labor and toil to vanish into smoke ! 
 
 Passing through the long corridors, we found them 
 crowded with working-women, in whose faces we could 
 trace distinctly the different races that form the Span- 
 ish people. There is no better place in all Spain to 
 study the variety of elements that are thus combined. 
 Here is a girl with face so fair and hair so light that we 
 feel sure of her Saxon descent perhaps she is the daugh- 
 
THE BURNING OF HERETICS. 279 
 
 ter of an English sailor who made voyages to Seville ; next 
 her, working at the same table, is a Jewess ; while great 
 numbers have the profusion of black hair and the flashing 
 eyes that are unmistakable marks of Moorish blood. 
 
 Transitions are abrupt in Spain, and nowhere more so 
 than in Seville ; and looking out of the windows in the 
 rear of this tobacco factory, we see an open plain without 
 the walls, where three hundred years ago heretics were 
 burned ! One may still trace the foundations of a square 
 platform on which the fires were kindled. Here the last 
 victim of Spanish cruelty perished but little more than a 
 hundred years ago, in 1781. It was a woman who was 
 accused of being a witch, though a more probable expla- 
 nation of her mysterious power would be to suppose that 
 her witchcraft was not unlike that exercised at the present 
 day by thousands of her sisters, some of whom we have 
 just seen, and can testify to their bewitching faces. That 
 is a kind of sorcery which will not cease so long as Moorish 
 maidens live on the earth. 
 
 Three centuries ago the Inquisition flourished in Seville, 
 and the cowled Dominicans who presided at that ghostly 
 tribunal had full sway. Victims were not wanting : for 
 if the Reformed doctrine had not spread widely in the 
 South of Spain, still every man who showed the least inde- 
 pendence of thought was an object of suspicion ; and if 
 there was any personal spite against him, or he had prop- 
 erty to be confiscated, it was easy to get up a pretext for 
 his arrest, when he would be quickly placed where there 
 would be no delay for want of evidence, and no scruples of 
 conscience in " administering justice on general principles " ! 
 When the Inquisition was abolished in Spain, of course 
 this particular establishment went with the rest. I was 
 curious to see if there were any remains of the gloomy old 
 pile, and the Spanish Protestant pastor took me to the 
 
280 THE DOOR OF THE INQUISITION. 
 
 very spot where it stood. Parts of the walls still stand, 
 though the internal arrangement has been so changed that 
 the original design of the structure is quite obscured. Of 
 course the clerical party was more than willing that its 
 wicked purpose should be concealed or forgotten. But in 
 the alterations there were small fragments which could be 
 kept as souvenirs. Some picked up the rusted nails of the 
 huge door (which was like the gate of a fortress), several of 
 which my friend obtained. One of them he gave to me, and 
 I keep it as a relic. It is a savage-looking spike, over six 
 inches long, and might have been intended, in the Medi- 
 aeval times in which it was wrought, for a fortress or a 
 prison : for the Bastille in Paris or a castle on the Rhine 
 the stronghold of some old Feudal baron, who, though he 
 called himself a Knight, was nothing but a robber. But 
 being designed for a religious (!) purpose, its character is 
 indicated by the figures on its head (three and a half 
 inches in diameter), which bears the emblems of a cross, 
 a crown of thorns, the nails that were driven into the 
 limbs of the Crucified, and in large letters I.H.S. [JESUS 
 HOMINUM SALVATOR]. Thus the sacred name of Him who 
 came to bring peace on earth, good will to men, was affixed 
 to an institution that was to do the work of hell ! As I 
 take this nail in hand, I think what a story it could tell ! 
 If its round head were a huge black eye, what scenes must 
 it have looked upon : what processions of misery, as the 
 heavy portal swung open for those to pass through who 
 would never return ! Or were its other side (bulging in 
 front, it is hollow behind) an ear, what sounds it must 
 have heard in the three centuries that it held its place and 
 listened : what clanking of chains, what echo of dungeon 
 doors, what shrieks of agony from the victims of torture ! 
 And now, if it could but speak, what tales of horror could 
 it tell with its iron tongue ! God be praised that such 
 
THE HOLY WEEK. 281 
 
 cruelties have ceased to be ! The horrible old Bastille has 
 been literally smoked out : for, if I do not confuse the 
 rooms, what was the Chamber of Torture has been turned 
 into a Spanish kitchen, and now the pot was boiling, and 
 the simple meal being prepared ; and the odor of Spanish 
 cooking, even though redolent of garlic, was fragrance 
 itself in contrast with that which once filled the place 
 the sickening smell of human blood ! 
 
 If one can choose his time out of all the year to visit 
 Seville, let it be in the Holy Week, when he will witness 
 a stately ceremonial which will carry him back to the 
 Miracle Plays of the Middle Ages (the only thing like it 
 now in existence is the Passion Play of Ober-Ammergau), 
 in which a procession moves slowly through the streets, 
 that is intended to represent the mournful throng that once 
 passed through the Yia Dolorosa on its way to Calvary. 
 Here is the figure of Christ bearing his cross, followed by 
 those who bewailed and lamented him, with all the details 
 of the awful tragedy of the Crucifixion, set forth in a man- 
 ner so realistic, and with a spirit so devout, as to make a 
 deep impression on the beholders a spectacle which is 
 witnessed, not only with reverence, but with awe, the 
 people falling on their knees with the utmost devotion. 
 
 Of course devotion so intense must have some relief, 
 and after the penances and prayers of Holy Week, with 
 the fasting on Good Friday, and the chanting of the Mis- 
 erere, comes the Festival of Easter, when there is a sudden 
 and powerful reaction, and the pent-up feeling of the mul- 
 titude finds expression in Te Deums and anthems to cele- 
 brate the Resurrection of our Lord. So far Seville does 
 but lift up its voice in unison with all Christendom. But 
 no Spanish festival could end here. The popular rejoicing 
 is not complete without that which furnishes the greatest 
 excitement a bull-fight ! The season always begins on 
 
282 A BULL-FIGHT. 
 
 Easter Sunday, from which time there is a performance 
 every Sunday afternoon till near the close of Summer. 
 
 As my visit to Spain was in the Winter, I had no oppor- 
 tunity while in Madrid to see, even had I wished, this 
 bloodiest of all the games that have survived the Roman 
 amphitheatre. But in Seville, though the Holy Week had 
 not come, Christmas had come, and how could that holy 
 time be allowed to pass without this expression of national 
 joy ? Had it been on a week-day, I might perhaps have 
 screwed up my courage to look for once upon the scene ; 
 as, had I lived in Kome in the days of the Csesars, I might 
 have gone to the Coliseum to see the combats of lions and 
 tigers, and even of gladiators, if it were only to study the 
 barbarism and cruelty which were an inseparable part of 
 the civilization of Imperial Kome. But the bull-fight was 
 to be on Sunday, and of course that settled the question. 
 Though I have, first and last, spent some years of my life 
 abroad, I could never get so familiarized to the European 
 Sunday as to forget what my father and mother taught me 
 in my childhood : that the seventh day was " holy time." 
 To a traveller especially there is something so grateful in 
 this day of perfect rest, that he is untrue to himself, as 
 well as to the religion of his country and the traditions of 
 his fathers, who gives his assent in any way or form to its 
 desecration. 
 
 But there was one thing which we could not help seeing 
 if we would, and that was the excitement which it pro- 
 duced. We could not step into the streets, or even look 
 out of the window, without seeing that the whole city was 
 in agitation. After watching it for a time from our bal- 
 cony, we went out to get a clearer view, and found the 
 people almost in a state of frenzy. Every means of trans- 
 port, drawn by horses or mules, from the princely carriage 
 to the common dray, was in motion; while omnibuses, 
 
SCENES IN" THE ARENA. 283 
 
 carrying a dozen or twenty, went " pouring forward with 
 impetuous speed " to the scene of combat. 
 
 Returning to our rooms, we sat reading for a couple of 
 hours, and then went out again. The streets were more 
 quiet, for the crowds were gathered in the arena. Passing 
 round to the rear, we found the crowd of idlers that always 
 hang about the doors of a circus or a menagerie. Little 
 was heard from within, for the multitude was watching 
 with eager eyes what might be truly called a " game of 
 life," since in it one life at least, whether of man or beast, 
 must be sacrificed. In such contests there are always mo- 
 ments of special danger and excitement. A gentleman in 
 Madrid told me he had seen a matador tossed in air three 
 times by a bull, and carried from the ring dying, it was 
 supposed into the ante-room, where the priest was wait- 
 ing to give him extreme unction ! Another told me he saw 
 Frascuelo, the celebrated bull-fighter of Madrid, throw 
 himself under the feet of a bull that was rushing madly 
 at him, and which thus passed over him. At such mo- 
 ments of course the immense audience (the arena in 
 Madrid will hold 14,000 ; that in Seville 12,000) lean from 
 their boxes aghast and breathless. But when the danger 
 is over, and the victory won, they break out into raptures 
 of applause. Now and then we heard from within the 
 walls a dull roar that told us that a combat was ended. 
 
 A few minutes later the gates were thrown open, and 
 out came riding the richly-caparisoned picadores, whose 
 noble office it is to ride round the bull, lances in hand, and 
 prick his sides so as to goad him to fury. Of course they 
 are not so much exposed as those on foot, though some- 
 times the entertainment comes nearer than is pleasant. 
 A friend in Madrid told me he had seen a bull strike a 
 horse with such tremendous power as to lift both horse and 
 rider into the air. In this " ground and lofty tumbling " 
 
284 AFTER THE BATTLE. 
 
 there are of course some heavy falls. But the danger 
 is not equally divided : for the horses are blindfolded, so 
 that they cannot avoid the rush, while the riders take good 
 care that they shall not be hurt. I observed that their legs 
 were swollen to elephantine proportions. They are cased 
 in sheet iron, so that they cannot be gored, and are so 
 padded that even if a horse falls upon a man, it will not 
 crush him. This seemed to me a cowardly way of protect- 
 ing themselves, to be adopted by gallant Spanish cavaliers. 
 
 But now a ghastly sight was to meet our eyes. Just 
 inside the gates were lying the bodies of the slain. The 
 bulls were being stripped of their hides, and cut up for 
 market ; and I was informed that by the morrow morning 
 all the butcher-stalls in Seville would be supplied from the 
 bull-ring. Yet more ghastly still were the dead horses, of 
 which I counted a dozen lying on the pavement, all horri- 
 bly g.ored, and several of them disembowelled a sicken- 
 ing spectacle, which I will not further describe. 
 
 As the doors were now open, and the crowd rapidly 
 pouring out, we walked into the arena, where the attend- 
 ants were cleaning up the place. One was sweeping up 
 the entrails of a horse, and others smoothing over the sand 
 that had been wet with blood. And this was on the Sab- 
 bath day ! Some may think it strange that we should be 
 willing to look into the arena even after it was empty. 
 I must confess it was not exactly like a church ; and yet I 
 never had a more effective sermon on human depravity 
 than I had that day in the bull-ring of Seville ! 
 
 No picture of Spanish life would be complete without 
 the beggars, who introduce themselves to all strangers, and 
 give them a cordial and continuous welcome. This is one 
 of the plagues of the country, and one cannot but ask 
 himself how it is that Spain should be so afflicted. I am 
 sorry to say it, but I must think that the Church and the 
 
SPANISH BEGGARS. 285 
 
 saints have had a good deal to do with it. The mendicant 
 orders have made begging respectable, and the giving of 
 alms one of the first of religious duties. The undue mul- 
 tiplication of religious services tends in the same direc- 
 tion. There are but fifty-two Sabbaths in the year, while 
 there are one hundred saints' days ; and although these 
 are not all observed, yet they are to an extent that inter- 
 feres seriously with the industry of the people, and fosters 
 the habits of idleness which are the parents of pauper- 
 ism. The church door is the place where the beggars 
 lounge, and stretch out their hands for alms ; and I believe 
 that a vigorous cutting down of holy days, even to a pro- 
 hibition of their observance, would be a first step towards 
 getting rid of what is a serious drain upon the resources 
 of the country. 
 
 But while I look upon beggars with a severely moral 
 eye, I am not insensible to the picturesque in their appear- 
 ance, and am disposed to take a kindly and charitable view 
 of the most worthless of my fellow-creatures. In Naples 
 the lazzaroni are so vivacious in their rags, that we almost 
 forget their ugliness. It is not so here, for the Spanish 
 beggars are generally but a rabble rout. Only the children 
 are attractive, for youth and bright eyes make us forget 
 the outer covering ; or rather, the poorer and meaner it is, 
 the more it makes us see the flashing of a fire behind it, 
 which no squalidness can conceal. I often stop in the 
 streets to look at the cunning little imps, that furnished 
 so many subjects for Murillo, whose " Spanish Beggars " 
 almost rival his Madonnas. 
 
 To keep this fascination, a beggar should be always 
 young and pretty. As he grows up, he becomes repulsive. 
 The women are hags, and the men often such maimed and 
 mutilated specimens of humanity that more than once they 
 have reminded me of the long line of stumps of arms and 
 
286 AN OLD MAN AND HIS DOGL 
 
 legs that were thrust out at me on the bridge over the 
 Golden Horn in Constantinople. 
 
 Nor is begging confined to the lowest class. It is 
 sometimes a resort of men of better condition, who are 
 too proud to work, and yet not ashamed to beg. Once 
 or twice a man whose dress was that of a gentleman, 
 has sidled up to me with an air, half confidential, half 
 patronizing, and a look which said as plainly as words : 
 " Stranger from a foreign soil ! born under other skies and 
 to happier destinies ! bestow upon me a little of that of 
 which you have a superfluity ; and receive the homage of 
 a grateful heart " ! . 
 
 Who could resist such an appeal ? It was as if I saw 
 Columbus begging at the Convent gate, and I was proud 
 to relieve the distress of one who, to judge from his appear- 
 ance, might have been (perhaps he was) a grandee of Spain. 
 
 Sometimes it is a real distress which has come upon 
 those who have seen better days, and is infinitely pathetic. 
 One day in Seville I saw a humble scene which I have 
 never forgotten : an old man of venerable appearance, and 
 yet a beggar, who had sunk down on the sidewalk, leaning 
 his weary back against the wall, and resting his hands upon 
 his upraised knees, to partake of a bit of cold meat and a 
 crust of bread, which were his only meal. He was not 
 alone. If he had been accompanied by a child, I should 
 have thought of Little Nell. But his only companion was 
 a dog, who now put up his long nose between his master's 
 knees, in sign of expectation. It was very touching to see 
 that dog's faith. His master was one of a class that men 
 despise, and look upon with scorn. All the world had for- 
 saken him, but his dog had not forsaken him. Nobody 
 believed in that poor old man, but his dog believed in him. 
 Nothing could shake his confidence : he knew that his time 
 would come ; that his master would not forget him ; that 
 
WIT OF THE BEGGARS. 287 
 
 after he had gnawed the last particle of flesh from the 
 bone, poor Fido would get that bone, and might crunch it till 
 it yielded some little nourishment. 
 
 As I looked in silence at that couple, who were not 
 aware of my presence, and whom it would have been a 
 rudeness to disturb, even to offer charity, I thought what 
 a support it is in all time of adversity to have some living 
 thing to believe in us, if it be only a poor dumb creature ; 
 and when this old Spaniard staggered to his feet, and his 
 humble companion walked patiently by his side, I was 
 ready to hope that the Indian was not far wrong when he 
 believed that in his happy hunting-grounds 
 
 " His faithful dog should bear him company." 
 
 But the common run of beggars are more amusing than 
 pathetic ; they are not objects of compassion ; they have 
 adopted a profession, and take life as it comes with a 
 philosophy worthy of their betters. If they are not quite 
 so lively and gay as the lazzaroni of Naples, I am told that 
 they are not without their share of mother wit, and that 
 there is a way of turning their maledictions into blessings. 
 "When a Spanish beggar salutes you, do not repel him with 
 scorn, but commend him to the care of the Virgin ! Or if 
 you say to him with engaging frankness, that you have not 
 a peseta to bless yourself with, his importunities will be 
 turned to pity ; he immediately begins to sympathize with 
 you ; and relieves your embarrassment by shrugging his 
 shoulders and offering the cheerful suggestion, " Oh, never 
 mind ; perhaps you will give me something the next time ! " 
 
 Such is a picture of life in Seville : it is a kaleidoscope 
 of many colors ; a shifting scene, in which the characters 
 are changing every hour princes and priests alternating 
 with bull-fighters and beggars. It is this variegated life 
 which makes the city so picturesque and so attractive to 
 
288 A CITY FOR, ARTISTS AND SCHOLARS. 
 
 artists. From its long possession by the Moors, it has a 
 ssmi-Oriental character, as it has a semi-tropical vegeta- 
 tion, and furnishes no end of subjects for a painter, in 
 which, against the background of the old Moorish archi- 
 tecture, he can introduce a variety of characters not to be 
 found in cities of France, or even of Italy, that may be 
 larger, but are more monotone 
 
 Of course romance adds to reality in a city which is 
 known to ah 1 but Spaniards chiefly through the medium of 
 fiction and poetry and music. It is not only George Eliot's 
 Spanish Gypsy, but a hundred tales and plays and poems, 
 that have found their scene in this South of Spain. To 
 many the chief association of this old Moorish city, will be 
 with the opera of the Barber of Seville, and they can only 
 think of it as a place where it is always moonlight ; where 
 dark-eyed senoritas sit on balconies and listen, while their 
 disconsolate lovers tinkle their guitars, and fill the dreamy 
 air of night with the music of their rich Spanish voices. 
 
 Such things no doubt there are still for those who seek 
 them ; but for sober and quiet old Dons like myself, Seville 
 has other attractions. It has not only galleries for artists, 
 but libraries for scholars. Attached to the Cathedral is a 
 library left to it by the son of Columbus, which is rich in 
 memorials of his father ; and an American who should take 
 interest in tracing from the beginning the Spanish voyages 
 of discovery, would find here a study for a few months that 
 would be as instructive as it would be delightful. 
 
 But the greatest charm of all is the delicious climate. 
 Americans coming to Spain for the Winter, would do well 
 to remember that it has many climates, and that all are not 
 good. That of Madrid is very treacherous. As the city 
 stands nearly twenty-five hundred feet above the level of 
 the sea, it is very bleak ; and as it is swept by the winds 
 from the Guadarrama Mountains, it is often bitter cold. 
 
THE CLIMATE. 289 
 
 Even when there is no wind astir, and the air is dry and 
 still, it is so sharp and keen that they have a proverb that 
 "While it will not blow out a candle, it will put out a life ! " 
 How careful the people are to guard against it, one may 
 see by the way in which they wrap their cloaks about 
 fchem, and muffle up their faces lest they inhale it too 
 freely. But in Seville the climate is equally distant from 
 the extremes of heat and cold ; it is a kind of neutral zone, 
 where warring elements meet only to dissolve ; where op- 
 posing climates, like the alien races, melt into one ; where, 
 as the Orient touches the Occident, and the blood of the 
 Spaniard mingles with that of the Moor, so Northern and 
 Southern temperatures soften each other ; till it seems as 
 if the climates were like lovers : 
 
 " The palm- tree dreaming of the pine, 
 The pine-tree of the palm," 
 
 as the sharp winds that come down from the snowy Sierras 
 are wooed and won by the tropical airs that blow across 
 the Mediterranean from Africa. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SPAIN AND FRANCE THE DON QUIXOTE OF TO-DAY. 
 
 It was almost the last stroke of the dying year one 
 more day and it would be gone that I found myself on 
 the ramparts of Cadiz, looking off upon the great ocean 
 that separated me from America, and felt that my visit to 
 Spain had come to an end. True, I was yet to pass a 
 week in Gibraltar a week of very extraordinary interest ; 
 but Gibraltar is not Spanish. Though a part of the main- 
 land of Spain, it belongs to another power : another flag 
 flies from the top of the Bock, and the bugles on the moun- 
 tain side play the martial airs of England. Whatever I 
 may have to say of the Great Fortress, will more fitly 
 introduce another volume, which, beginning at Gibraltar, 
 shall conduct us for a thousand miles along the Barbary 
 Coast, from Tangier to Tunis. For the present I have 
 only to make my bow to Spain. 
 
 But a leave-taking must not be too abrupt. Spaniards 
 are very punctilious in the forms of courtesy, which, as 
 they observe towards others, it is fit that others should 
 observe towards them ; and so it is that I linger on the 
 shores of a land in which I have been so kindly received, 
 and of which I shall retain a delightful remembrance. 
 
SPAIN AND FRANCE. 291 
 
 And yet must I confess it ? I go away with a feeling 
 which is partly one of disappointment : that a country that 
 has had so great a part in history, does not hold a greater 
 place to-day among the powers of the world. My Spanish 
 friends will forgive me if I allude to this but for a moment : 
 not that I love to draw sombre pictures, but that darkness 
 furnishes a background for light, which in this case is so 
 distinctly dawning in the East as to give promise of a 
 future that shall satisfy all the national pride and ambition. 
 Nature intended Spain for a great country : its position 
 is one of the most favored in Europe. If it has not the vast 
 territory of the Empire of Russia, it is far better situated, at 
 the other end of the Continent, in a better latitude, with a 
 better climate, and greater facilities for commerce with the 
 world. In the latter respect, Spain is like France, which 
 it nearly equals in territory, the two countries having 
 almost the same area (France a little over, and Spain a 
 little under, 200,000 square miles) ; and as they lie side 
 by side, they present many points for comparison and for 
 contrast. A glance at the map will show that they have the 
 same general shape, "lying four square," with an ample 
 front on every side. Both have the immense advantage 
 of being open in opposite directions to the sea, differing 
 only in this : that France has the longer coast-line on the 
 Atlantic, and Spain the longer on the Mediterranean. 
 
 Thus both countries start in the race of progress with 
 about equal advantages : they begin as it were abreast. 
 How then is it that Spain has fallen so far behind France ; 
 that it has only one-half the population, and less than one- 
 half the wealth ; that the railroads are built by French 
 capital, as the mines are worked by English capital ; and 
 that in all the elements of modern progress this country 
 is a hundred years behind France and the other leading 
 nations of Europe ? Since it is not for want of natural 
 
292 THE SPANIARD AND THE GAUL. 
 
 
 
 advantages, where shall we find the explanation of this 
 singular historical fact ? 
 
 I answer that Spain has not had a fair chance ; that she 
 has had the worst governments, civil and ecclesiastical, that 
 ever cursed a civilized country. The Inquisitor was the 
 cowled assassin, the monk-murderer, who, hiding the dag- 
 ger under his monastic robe, was feeling for his country's 
 heart. Seeking, wherever there was a precious life, to 
 strike it dead, he sowed the land thick with graves, till 
 Spain was a vast cemetery, in which her bravest and her 
 best were "untimely buried." No country could stand 
 that long. It is a proof of the immense vitality of Spain 
 that she stood it for generations. But the final result was 
 inevitable. Weaker and weaker the nation grew, till at last 
 it was so bloodless and nerveless as to be not only without 
 energy and strength, but even without hope or ambition. 
 
 But the difference between France and Spain is not to 
 be referred to political causes alone, potent as they have 
 been ; but to something back of all these a fundamental 
 difference in character between the Spaniard and the Gaul. 
 They are two races. The Frenchman is quick, alert, sus- 
 ceptible to new impressions ; while the Spaniard moves 
 slowly and reluctantly, with a haughty pride in not moving, 
 and a sort of indignation at being compelled to stir, though 
 he may yield to the force of circumstances what he would 
 not yield to the force of argument. Yet even then, as he 
 lifts his heavy limbs to put them one step forward in the 
 path of progress, it is with a proud disdain of the forces 
 of this modern age that compel him to move at all. 
 
 To this dissimilarity of temperament is due in great 
 part the dislike of the Spaniards for the French, which one 
 who travels in Spain must recognize. Surprising as it may 
 be, yet it is sadly true, that the nearest neighbors are not 
 always the best friends ; and there is no people in Europe 
 
REVOLUTIONS STOP AT THE PYRENEES. 293 
 
 to whom the Spaniards are less inclined than their neigh- 
 bors on the other side of the Pyrenees. And this is not 
 merely from the memory of old wars, but because the two 
 nations are not sympathetic : they are twain, and you 
 cannot make them one flesh. 
 
 If I were to tell the whole truth, I might have to add 
 that the Spaniards not only hate the French, but that their 
 hatred is flavored with contempt, looking upon them as a 
 light, volatile people, of no stability in anything, ready at 
 any time, " for a consideration," to change their govern- 
 ment or their religion ; while the Spaniards stand fast, like 
 those heavy columns of Spanish infantry which, in the time 
 of Charles V., by their immovable firmness, carried the day 
 on many a bloody field. 
 
 It is a curious fact that most of the revolutions that 
 have swept over Europe, have stopped at the Pyrenees 
 a barrier against which the waves from the North have 
 dashed themselves in vain : a fact to which there is a sin- 
 gular analogy in the mountains themselves. In the forma- 
 tion of these mountains, geologists have observed that they 
 are quite different *on their two sides rising from the 
 valleys of France by a gradually ascending slope, while at 
 the top they break like waves, and fall into deep gorges and 
 chasms, over which the summits hang in mighty cliffs and 
 precipices. 
 
 Not unlike this has been the effect of successive French 
 revolutions, which, tremendous and sweeping as they have 
 been in their own country, have exhausted their force by 
 the time they reached its southern boundary. Or if the 
 impulse of the mighty wave carried it to the top of the 
 Pyrenees, there it broke, presenting to the Spanish people 
 only the glittering spectacle of a wave of French froth and 
 foam, falling like the spray of Niagara from the crests of 
 the mountains. 
 
294 DON QUIXOTE. 
 
 In this comparison Spain appears to the best advantage, 
 from her dignity and repose ; but there are other qualities 
 needed to make a great nation, and we cannot but recog- 
 nize the fact that, with all that is truly noble in the Spanish 
 character, it has its weaknesses, for which the country has 
 to suffer. 
 
 In one of the conversations with Castelar, he spoke of 
 Don Quixote as a picture, not only of human nature, but of 
 Spanish nature a remark which has often recurred to me 
 in myobservations since. " I have just been travelling in 
 La Mancha," said a Spanish-German friend, " and I saw 
 there the very windmills which Bon Quixote attacked : 
 yes, and I saw Don Quixote himself, and Sancho Panza, 
 or at least their exact types, dressed in modern Spanish 
 costume." My acquaintance with Spain has been more 
 brief, and yet I have several times had the honor of being 
 introduced to that most excellent Spanish knight and his 
 valiant man-at-arms ; and I hope I shall not give offence 
 if, by some slight, delicate touches, I give a portrait of the 
 Don Quixote of to-day. 
 
 Don Quixote was a mighty man Ox valor, who lived in 
 a world of his imagination. When he lifted up his majes- 
 tic person, and looked round the Spain in which he was 
 born, he saw, not its vulgar or its common side, but castles 
 in whose grim towers fair damsels were confined, to deliver 
 whom was the calling of a Spanish knight. This was a voca- 
 tion worthy of his ambition, and of that courage and prowess 
 of which lie knew himself to be possessed. H believed 
 that he was born for something great, and here was the 
 field of glory into which he would enter. He would be the 
 champion and defender of beauty and virtue. Wherefore, 
 mounting his steed Rosinante, with his trusty follower, 
 Sancho Panza, bringing up the rear on a mule, he leaves 
 the paternal roof, and goes abroad in quest of adventures. 
 
THE DON QUIXOTE OF TO-DAY. 295 
 
 Adventures he has, though not all of the kind that he seeks. 
 He is often reduced to sorry plights, when it is hard to 
 reconcile his ideas of his own greatness with the meanness 
 of his condition. But he is equal to the occasion. Nothing 
 daunts him ; nothing disconcerts him. His loves and his 
 wars are alike of the noblest kind. If he goes to a Spanish 
 inn, the kitchen-maid seems to him a high-born senorita ; 
 but his ill-timed devotion gets him into no end of trouble. 
 On the high road he is prepared to face armed foes ; but 
 meets instead a company of country louts, who laugh at his 
 ridiculous figure, and when he resents their impudence, 
 tumble him from his horse, and kick him and cuff him till 
 there is not a place in his body which is not sore with the 
 beating. Even the windmills, whirling without his per- 
 mission, affront his dignity, and he attacks them with fury, 
 only to be left sprawling on the ground. Such is the 
 valiant knight-errant, whose adventures always end in a 
 sorrowful experience ; but not a jot does he abate of his 
 self-complacency. This he keeps to the very close of his 
 wonderful career ; though buffeted by fortune, he is great 
 in soul, and carries his head erect, proud and punctilious 
 to the last. 
 
 Is there any parallel to this in the modern Spanish 
 cavalier ? Castelar sees a resemblance, and even a stranger 
 cannot help perceiving it. If the knight-errant does not 
 still ride abroad, his counterpart remains at home, with 
 the same chivalrous spirit in his breast ; with a code of 
 honor that makes him quick to resent an insult ; a brave 
 but somewhat choleric gentleman, whose temper takes fire 
 at any slight to his dignity, though wholly unintended, and 
 who is as ready to attack unseen and imaginary enemies 
 as ever Don Quixote was to charge the windmills ! 
 
 At the bottom of all this is an excessive and over-sensi- 
 tive pride the old Castilian pride, which has descended in 
 
296 THE SPANISH CAVALIER. 
 
 full force to their successors. It is not a pride which shows 
 itself in insolence towards others, but one which will never 
 forgive a want of personal respect. When you are intro- 
 duced to a gentleman of this country, you must remember 
 that he is, not merely a man and a brother, but above all, 
 a Spaniard. He will treat you with the utmost courtesy 
 so long as you show him proper consideration; but the 
 moment you presume to treat him lightly, or to patronize 
 him, you must expect to see the old Spanish hauteur show 
 itself in a way which will make it much more agreeable 
 for you to get out of the country. So far, I confess I 
 like the Spanish pride ; and when I see the airs of supe- 
 riority assumed by some foreigners airs which are as 
 vulgar as they are offensive I am glad that there is one 
 country where they are likely to be so effectually snubbed 
 as to make them feel more at ease in body and mind when 
 they have recrossed the Pyrenees. 
 
 But pride is a heavy load to carry, and especially for 
 one with slender resources to support his dignity. There 
 was a time when Spanish grandees might consider them- 
 selves the first gentlemen in Europe, since they had not 
 only rank but fortune, many of them very great fortunes, 
 created by the influx of wealth from Mexico and Peru, 
 which made them like the merchant princes of Venice. In 
 a few cases the old estates remain in the family, but in the 
 greater number the wealth has been scattered till the de- 
 scendants are left with only the inheritance of poverty, 
 which is made more embarrassing by being associated with 
 a proud name. 
 
 Here is the dilemma in which tens of thousands of 
 Spanish gentlemen find themselves to-day. Indeed the 
 number might be enlarged : for while there is an old aris- 
 tocracy, bearing illustrious names that date back to the 
 time of Castile and Arragon, the ancient blood has de- 
 
PRIDE AND POVEKTY. 297 
 
 scended in other channels, and flowed in many directions ; 
 so that, while the heads of the great houses might be 
 counted, it is impossible to count when you come to the 
 third and fourth yes, and to the tenth generation. 
 Including all these, the Spanish nobility has been esti- 
 mated, incredible as it may seem, to comprise nearly one- 
 fifteenth of the whole population of Spain ! 
 
 How is a higher class so numerous to be supported? 
 Some may become officers in the Army or Navy, but for 
 the larger part there is little hope of anything " fit for a 
 gentleman" except to get some employment under the 
 government ; and to obtain that, however humble the posi- 
 tion and petty the pay, is the ambition of many a man in 
 whose veins flows the blue blood of the proudest families 
 of Old Spain. 
 
 A Spaniard would rather die than not keep up appear- 
 ances. If he aspires to a position in society, he will try 
 to appear rich, or at least independent, while in reality he 
 may be desperately poor. To this end there are two things 
 which are more important to him than food and drink 
 a carriage and a box at the opera ! To show himself in 
 the Prado at a certain hour of the day, and in the opera at 
 night, satisfies his ambition. For the rest, how he lives, 
 nobody knows and nobody cares. He need not give din- 
 ners : indeed he may not have a dinner to give, or even to 
 eat himself. When he comes back from his daily drive, 
 and alights at his door, he may retire into the recesses of 
 his chamber, and there partake of the meanest food to sat- 
 isfy the cravings of hunger, and nobody be the wiser. The 
 Spaniards have a convenient proverb that " The stomach 
 has no windows ! " What a man wears on his back is ex- 
 posed to the gaze of all men ; but what he eats, nobody 
 sees. Or if indeed he does not eat at all, nobody can see 
 that his stomach is very lean and hungry, when he muffles 
 
298 GETTING A PENSION. 
 
 his cloak about him, and sallies forth to meet the world 
 with an unruffled countenance. Some of the stories which 
 were told me in Madrid of the petty economies to which 
 gentlemen in good society were reduced, were quite equal 
 to anything in the shifts of Don Quixote. 
 
 But the Spanish cavalier is not yet at the end of his 
 resources or the attainment of his highest felicity. There 
 is one more prize to be gained, and his happiness will be 
 complete : it is to get a pension a hope which would be 
 chimerical in a country where such rewards were bestowed 
 only for distinguished public services. But they do these 
 things differently in Spain. Here pensions are given for 
 all sorts of services, or for none. The most trifling claim 
 is recognized by the assurance of a certain sum from the 
 Government. It may be very, very small ; but no matter 
 for that it is fixed ; and so long as it secures the recipient 
 from absolute want, it is enough. From that moment he 
 will set up as a gentleman, and not do another stroke of 
 work to the end of his days. 
 
 Thus it is that the pension-roll of Spain has become so 
 great. Every new Administration that comes in has a 
 fresh army of favorites to be rewarded for devotion to their 
 political leaders, and the number swells larger and larger 
 from year to year. All this is a burden which the State 
 has to carry, and as it takes the labor of two able-bodied 
 men to support a third idle one, the drain upon its re- 
 sources is enormous. 
 
 But what cares the happy pensioner ? For him life's 
 woes are ended, and its joys are but just begun. Every 
 day he will spend his morning at the cafe, where he will 
 sip his coffee, read his journal, and twirl his cigarette ; the 
 afternoon he will take his ride or drive (except Sundays, 
 when he will go to the bull-ring) ; and the evening he will 
 spend at the theatre or the opera. When life flows on with 
 
" THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE WORLD." 299 
 
 this smooth and even current, in a perpetual round of 
 amusements, who can wonder that the Spaniard is per- 
 fectly satisfied with himself and his country ? Why should 
 he not be ? Is not his country the greatest in the world ? 
 I have been told that even intelligent Spaniards cherish 
 the belief that it is still the first power in Europe. A year 
 since there was some fear of trouble between Spain and 
 Germany about the Caroline Islands in the Pacific, and for 
 a week or two the talk in the cafes of Madrid was of war, 
 and not a doubt was expressed that, if it came to blows, 
 Germany would soon find out what a formidable enemy 
 she had to deal with ! Happily she was forewarned that 
 discretion was the better part of valor, and withdrew her 
 pretensions. A friend told me that, in conversation with 
 a Spanish gentleman familiar with foreign literatures, the 
 latter did not hesitate to say that he looked upon them all 
 as only so many pale reflections of the far more splendid 
 literature of Spain ! Another Spanish gentleman, who had 
 made a visit to France, could not contain his joy at return- 
 ing, and said with an air of one who smiled approvingly 
 on a rising young city, that " Paris was very well, but," 
 with an emphasis, " it was not Madrid ! " 
 
 This is delicious. Such a man does not belong to the 
 nineteenth century. He is a knight of the Middle Ages, 
 whosa lot it is to live in this vulgar modern time, but who 
 still keeps his exalted air, walking on the battlements of 
 his ancient towers, all unconscious that the world is sweep- 
 ing by him, and leaving him far behind. 
 
 There is something truly pathetic in this unconscious- 
 ness of one who is so full of the ancient glories of his 
 country that he cannot perceive its decay, and who still 
 dreams dreams and sees visions, keeping up his fallen dig- 
 nity by an increased self-appreciation that shall make up 
 for the loss of appreciation by the world ; and one can 
 
300 OVERWEIGHTED WITH DIGNITY. 
 
 but look with mingled pity and respect on this grand old 
 figure, that seems to have stepped out of the sixteenth 
 century, and that even in well-worn and faded raiment, 
 preserves the traces of former splendor. 
 
 Complacency such as this it would be cruel to disturb, 
 were it not that these airy fancies need to be dispelled, in 
 order that the Spaniards of to-day may come down to the 
 hard ground of reality, and on this solid basis reconstruct 
 the fabric of their country's greatness. A nation is made up 
 of individuals ; its strength is merely the combined strength 
 of millions of men ; and the weakness of character that 
 makes a man too proud to work, is a weakness of the State. 
 Herein is the weakness of Spain : she has too many knights, 
 and they carry too much heavy armor ; so that she is sadly 
 overweighted with dignity. The Spanish cavalier is a little 
 out of place in this bustling century. If this man of war 
 would only realize that the age of peace has come, and lay 
 aside his helmet and shield, and be content simply to do a 
 man's work in this work-a-day world, the effect would soon 
 show itself in the general prosperity of the country. 
 
 The common people of Spain, who till the soil, are of 
 the right stuff : simple and honest, brave in war and indus- 
 trious in peace. A friend who, in a residence of many 
 years in Spain, has visited almost every province, and min- 
 gled with the peasantry, tells me that he has become very 
 fond of them ; that he has always found them kindly and 
 truthful, not disposed to take advantage of a stranger, but 
 bidding him welcome to their humble homes with genuine 
 hospitality. Strong in frame, they are tremendous workers 
 in the fields. Those who have seen them in the long Sum- 
 mer's day toiling from sun to sun, will admit that no country 
 could have better husbandmen. These are they who are to 
 create the wealth of Spain ; and if their ranks were not 
 thinned by conscription for the army, and their substance 
 
OLD SPAIN AND NEW SPAIN. 301 
 
 eaten up by taxes, they would in another generation create 
 a degree of prosperity such as has not been seen within 
 three hundred years. 
 
 In drawing a contrast between Old Spain and New 
 Spain, I have not meant to speak of them as if they were 
 two nations, detached and separate the one from the other : 
 they are but two parts of one great organism, living on 
 from age to age, which may indeed be weaker now than 
 in some former century, but which, in spite of all disaster, 
 is still great, or at least has in it the elements of greatness. 
 Some of my hasty countrymen will say flippantly that 
 Spain is " played out." Never were they more mistaken. 
 The country is still here, as strong by nature as ever ; 
 standing like a great fortress, defended on one side by a 
 chain of mountains, and all round the others by the en- 
 circling sea ; with resources unexhausted and almost un- 
 touched. If France be richer in soil, Spain is richer in 
 mineral wealth, and indeed is said to be the richest country 
 in Europe. No quicksilver mine is equal to that at Alma- 
 den ; no iron mines are richer than those of Bilbao ; while 
 the copper mines of Rio Tinto, which have been worked 
 from the times of the Phenicians, are to-day, under the 
 trained skill of English engineers, directing the labor of 
 four thousand workmen, yielding more than ever. Thus 
 Spain is a country overrunning with natural wealth : its 
 hills bring forth brass, and its mountains iron ; while its 
 magnificent coast-line opens its broad-armed ports, north 
 and south, east and west, to invite the commerce of the 
 world. 
 
 Thus situated, no country in Europe to-day has greater 
 opportunities than Spain. She has no reason to be envi- 
 ous of any of her neighbors, even though Castilian pride 
 may be wounded to think that the Kingdom of Charles V. 
 and Philip II. is no longer counted worthy to be recog- 
 
302 SLOW BUT STEADY PROGRESS. 
 
 nized in a Congress of the Great Powers of Europe. So 
 much the better ! Her safety is in standing apart : she is 
 in no danger of entangling alliances, which shall compel 
 her to fight battles not her own. Left to herself, she has 
 only to work out her own salvation, and in this she will 
 have the good wishes of the friends of liberty all over the 
 world. They must not be impatient at slow progress, for 
 so is it always with a political evolution ; it is enough if it 
 be really begun. Even when there is a general advance, 
 there will be occasional setbacks, as there is one here just 
 now. Since the monarchy was reestablished, the country 
 has undergone a partial reaction. But this can be only 
 for a time. Castelar describes the present state of political 
 affairs in Spain as not unlike the restoration of the Stuarts 
 in England, of the Bourbons in France, and of the Pope 
 in Eome a temporary reaction, to be followed by an over- 
 whelming victory for freedom. This prophecy of good is 
 justified by the course of events : for with all the backward 
 tendencies, comparing year with year, there has been a slow 
 but steady progress. The end is still distant, but " far off 
 its coming shines." Good government is the last attainment 
 of civilization. Simple in its object the mutual protection 
 and defence it is infinitely complex in its details, requir- 
 ing a thousand checks and balances to keep it from verging 
 to despotism on the one side, or to revolution and anarchy 
 on the other. Such a government is not the work of a day 
 or a generation. To build up a great nation requires all 
 the wisdom of the wisest and the virtue of the best. To 
 this end the most liberal and patriotic men in Spain are 
 now working, and their labor will not be without its reward. 
 With such fond thoughts, I linger on these shores, re- 
 luctant to depart. Dear old Spain ! With all her faults, I 
 love her still : for her faults are redeemed by splendid qual- 
 ities a high sense of honor ; a truly democratic respect of 
 
SPAIN AND AMERICA. 303 
 
 man for man, for the Spaniard never forgets to show to 
 another what he demands for himself ; and above all, the 
 gentle courtesy, inherited from the ages of chivalry, of 
 which the stranger has frequent experience, and which, 
 like charity, covers a multitude of sins. Such a country 
 is worthy of a better fate. And that is coming. The spirit 
 of liberty is abroad in the land, and the face of the nation 
 is towards the rising sun ; and it is not impossible that 
 another century may see the glory of Old Spain fading and 
 growing dim before the greater glory of the New. 
 
 In my last walk on the ramparts of Cadiz, I was startled 
 by a heavy gun, and turning to the harbor saw a large 
 steamer bearing away to the West. It was the weekly 
 mail to Cuba, by which Spain keeps up communication 
 with her great dependency. These messengers, coming 
 and going across the deep, carry our thoughts to the dwell- 
 ers beyond the sea. It is not yet four hundred years since 
 Columbus sailed from this very coast from Palos, which 
 is not far above Cadiz on his great voyage of discovery. 
 That was one of the turning-points of history, as it opened 
 another hemisphere to the expansion of the human race. 
 Remembering how it has changed the course of empire 
 how it has created nations, and started them in the race of 
 progress with a vast increase of knowledge and of liberty 
 Americans may well desire to draw closer the relations that 
 bind them to the country to which they owe the discovery 
 of the New World.