A (= A o re. 5 ^ u 3 R A 3> 4 4 ? ;:^ 1 = ^ 2 iiiiniiiiH'K, . 1- nilllliniiiii ., Illllininiliiiinu: iiiiii; .., ;ili)lillirillMlllllil)Niiii(iiiM. iltllliriiiiriiiiilliiiiiliiiiiiiiiiiiiUMi illlllUllllllillllllllllllllljIII^IIIUIII, „ " ' "■*lniiiiiiiiiimi)iiiniiiii)iiiiiiMn)n IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIJIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII jiiiaiiiiiniiiMiiiiiiMiiriiiiiiiiiiiiiii "'amiiilliiiniliin'iimilllilH ■liiiiriiiiiiiur.iiiHiiiiiiit ■liiliiiiiiimiiumiiiiiii llllllllllllUI(IIIIf!lniiiii [jiiiiiiiiriimiiiiiiiiiiHinii fiiiiiiiiiiitiiiintiiiiiiiiii !)li||lllll)S iMiiiiMi; _ iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinll IliiiliiiiliiilliliiifiillKiiJliiUiiiiiiuj;;; •iirDiiiiiiiiiiiiifiiiiiiimij I I »! : , iMliMifiniiiiiifiiitijiM '";;.:;.ll iMiufiriiiiiiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimiMiiiiiri illlllll IIIIIIJIIIDIilltllllllMMIMIM;' l|N iiiiiii riiiiiiiiiijiiiiMiiiiiiiiMiiiiiiti.; !| lIllMHIIIIIilDIIIHIHIIi lijiDiKiiiiiiiiimmiiif 111I(III1>IIIIIIIIII1IIIM( jilltlllllJIllllMIK lilt" iniiiiiiimiiiiijiiMiiii ^ttiniiitiiiiiMiiiiiiuiiij jjn7jriiiiuiiiii rit iiiiiiHrtf I iMnijiiiiiiiiiifi Mhii^/iimiiifuiiftiiiiohii" Sij(ii) iiilijiiiifiji iiiji tr"" illllllMll lllllllll MMiJJl illDlllllllUIIHIUIIIilif"' il!lll;!IIIIIIIUIIIIIII>ll THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES UM arj Q >0 NOWADAYS: OR, COURTS, COURTIERS, CHURCHMEN, GARIBALDIANS, LAWYERS AND BRIGANDS, AT HOME AND ABEOAD. By J. EICHAED DIGBY BESTE, ESQ. AUTHOR OF "the WABASH," "MODERN SOCIETy IN ROJ.E.' ETC., ETC. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : CHAPMAN & HALL, 103, PICCADILLY. 1870. D PREFACE. "The Wabash," which was published in 1855, told the adventui'es of a family, consisting of a father and mother and twelve children, in the interior of America. But 1855 is so long ago that I cannot hope to be still re- membered ; and I am tempted to reprint, even in this place, some of the opinions of the press which greeted that work and the other book* mentioned on my title-page. They may serve as letters of introduction to remind the reader that we were already on friendly terms when I began chatting with him again in the opening pages of these volumes. Thus, then, were those books spoken of by, perhaps, too-friendly critics : " Encouraged by the brilliant success of The Wabash, Mr. Beste has followed up that very charming record of travels and adventures in America, by a book yet more remarkable." — Su7i. '' This work cannot fail to do good service to the re- putation of its author, in whom we recognise the writer * " The Siege of Rome" was the title I origiually gave to this historical novel and, indeed, is the printed heading to every page. The publishers thought to make it more attractive by calling it " Modern Society in Rome" — a change which an- nihilated all my historical pretensions, and led people to be- lieve that it was a mere pcn^sonal satire. 959063 IV PREFACE. of the delightful books of travel published under the name of The Wabash." — Morning Post. " All the talent which Mr. Beste evinced in his in- structive volumes published under the singular title of The Wabash, is evinced in these volumes." — Bell's Weekly Messenger. " Mr. Beste's book is interesting. In literary merit, it is above the majority of books of travel." — Athenamm. " The work is singularly interesting." — Literary Gazette. " Mr. Beste has awakened interest in all the persons of his narrative. The journals of the children^ by the effect which a perfectly natural tone produces, may put to shame many a laboured composition. Nobody will read the book without being the wiser for it." — Examiner. "■ We have been tempted to multiply our extracts from these amusing volumes." — Jolin Bull. " The constant presence of the family feehngs and interests imparts a species of dramatic character to this agreeable book of travels." — Spectator. '' We recommend this book to the public." — Standard. " There is a sort of ' unbookish' novelty in The Wabash."— Globe. " Full of hvely sketches which give it an air of family history, which has a charm of its own, making it a very amusing production." — Guardian. " The novelty of the design of The Wabash has given it a personal interest, and we would especially recommend it should be placed in the hands of young persons." — Critic. " The journals kept by the young ladies are marked by that feminine observation nf trifles which makes ladies' PREFACE. V letters so much more amusing than those of the sterner sex. Good stories are plentifully scattered over these pages." — Times. " Carefully written, and has many interesting sketches of life in the Prairie." — Dally Neivs. " As good a sketch of the people, their manners and their country — fresh, racy, and natural — as could be de- sired." — Press. " There is a wholesome and enthusiastic spirit running through The Wahash which renders it extremely delight- ful as well as instructive." — Sunday Times. " These entertaining volumes are valuable in a practical point of view." — Weekly Dispatch. " The Wahash is as charming a book of travel and adventure as it has been our good fortune to light upon. Mr. Beste^s information, not merely upon the present state of the American wilds and backwoods, but on its facilities for colonisation, are invaluable." — Messenger. Thanking all these kind reviewers, I would only add that the volumes now published may be properly con- sidered as a continuation of The Wahash. The same individuals are actors in the scene ; only, instead of being cast among the pioneers of the backwoods, their experi- ences lie amongst the cities, the courts, the society, the revolutions of the Old World, The reader is called upon for a deeper degree of sympathy as he traces the sad destinies of the now grown-up children ; and is shewn the fearful consequences of travel in those climates to which thousands of our countrymen betake themselves yearly in search of health. Those who seek for amusement only, and those who care for historic information, may equally rely upon the \1 PREFACE. nutliority of these pages ; for light, anecJotical, super- licial, as they may seem, they record nothing unad- visedly or maliciously. The public acts of public men, whether English or foreigners, are pubHc property, and are freely spoken of; the privacy of individuals is ever respected. I regret not to be able to describe the present state of Italy as rapturously as English friends of that country would wish me to do. It were ever impertinent in a foreigner to declare himself a political partisan in any country in which he may temporainly reside, as I have re- sided in Italy ; but I must record those of its malpractices from which I have suffered. I must record the unmethodi- cal laziness of its administrative departments ; the ineffici- ency of its soldier-police; the treacherous secrecy of its tri- bunals ; the inadequacy of its punishments ; the sloth and indifference of all to everything ; — a sloth which keeps two-thirds of the electors from every polHng booth in the kingdom ; an indifference which almost amounts to connivance in every crime, since none care to express pity for the victim, or to bid the journals record the trial or punishment of the criminal ; an indifference or conni- vance which, when the head of the police was stabbed to death last year at midday in Ravenna, caused every door and window to be instantly shut against his cry for help, and permitted the corporation of the city to present, to the central authority, an apologetic address which said not one word in execration of the crime ! CONTENTS OF VOLUME THE FIRST. CHAPTER I. EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. The Wabash. — A medical consultation. — A roving com- mission. — An election at Southampton. - - 1 CHAPTER n. THE MAIL PACKET. The P. and O. Company and my horses. — The muster- roll. — Pleasant anchorage. — Diversions in a storm. — The Admiralty agent. - - - - 10 CHAPTER ni. THE BAY OF BISCAY. Royal pi'esents. — The storm. — The "novena." — Saved. 18 CHAPTER lY. NEW SHORES. Lost ships. — Vigo. — The brutal first-mate. — The ill- used horse. — Money versus letters. — Our log. — Coasting. — The other Tagus. — The customhouse. — Night walk in Lisbon. - - - - 2-5 h X CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. A NEW LOCATION, Lisbon by daylight. — Hissing in Portugal and Austra- lia. — No lodgings.— A retrospective quotation. — Christmas Eve.— A terrific hotel bill. - - 36 CHAPTER VI. SOCIETY AT LISBON. A celebrated traveller. — The royal family. — Presentation at court. — The king, Don Pedro. — Court receptions. —Toilettes.— The Duke of Terceira.— The Saxe Coburgs. — The English legation, — The papal nun- cio. — A bull-fight. — The ships at anchor. — Mourning ceremonial. - - - - - 49 CHAPTER VII. THE KING OF PORTUGAL. The House of Peers. — The cholera. — Seclusion of Lis- bon. ...... 74 CHAPTER VIII. ECCLESIASTICAL. The clergy of Lisbon. — St. Vincent and the ravens. — Scandals. — Religious observances. — Procession of the Pas.sion. — Churches. — St. Roque. — English nuns and Sion House. — The Estella. — Penha de Fran9a. — Theology below stairs. — Mr. Murray and the wondrous lizard. — Belem. — My butler, Stevens, —The rector of West End. - - - 79 CHAPTER IX. THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE. Prognostics. — Present dread. — The minister, De Pom- bal. — Attack on the king. — Funny conspiracy. — Uncertainties. ..... 101 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER X. THE NEIGHBOURHOOD. Climate. — Flowers. — H.R.H. the Infanta Isabel. — Quin- ta of Lumiar. — Of Oeiras. — The grape disease. — Oranges. — Horse races. — Mafra. — Another horse. — Cintra. — The Royal Palace. — Dom Sebastian. — The Duke of Wellington and the ring. — The Pena. — D. John de Castro. — Mr. Beckford. — The cork con- vent. — The pinch of snufi" and Prince Torlonia - 109 CHAPTER XI. INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. A Portuguese railroad. — Caldas. — An inn-keeper's bill. — Battle of Aljubarota. — Batalha. — Monastery of Alcobaca. — Don Pedro and Ines de Castro.— Portu- guese inns. .... - 129 CHAPTER XII. A LOCATION IN LISBON. The Minister of Finances. — House hunting. — The to- bacco contractor. — Lady O'Shaunessy. — A Brazilian speculator " stumped." — Another Minister of Fi- nances. — The House of Peers and the author. — The English minister afraid. - - - - 138 CHAPTER XIII. SPAIN. Difficulty of going to Spain. — L'Helvetie. — The medical lecturer. — Cadiz. — A Spanish family. — Gibraltar. — Malaga.— A "bull-fight." - - - 151 CHAPTER XIV. THE CALCUTTA. The coast of Africa.— A dream. — Second sight. — Ship- wreck, - - - - - - 1G9 h 2 XII CONTENTS. CHAPTER XV. AFRICA. Oi-nn. — Variety of costumes. — Mount Atlas. — "Tsidora." Walter Scott;.— Future fame.— Old Vidal.— Lord Exmouth's bombai'dment. — The French consul and the dej. — Algiers. — The Arab quainter. — An Arab mansion. — The Kasbah. — Amount of booty. - 173 CHAPTER XVI. THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. The great mosque. — Shopping. — Climate of Algiers. — The Balearic Islands. — Marseilles and old acquaint- ance. — Prosperity of France. — Aix. — Eating and washing. — La Crau. — The new archbishop. — Aries. — The giant bones. — The man market. — Nimes. — The Avisdom of doctors. — Montpellier. — The pig market. — Silly bees of Narbonne. — Cheap Tea. — Street processions. — Cafes et billards. — Battle of Muret, — Approach to the Pyrenees. - - 192 CHAPTER XVII. CAUTERETS. Drinking and bathing. — Le Raillere. — Modem French and the Queen of Navarre, — The Bad-hole. — The doctors and the sore throat. — The doctor and the lungs. — Progress of medicine. — Lac de Gaube. — Pleasant walks. — The Pic du Midi. —The Cagots. — The Republic of Luz and its finances. — Bareges. — Madame de Maintenon. . - - - 208 CHAPTER XVIII. THE PYRENEES. Carriage and horses seized for debt. — Lourdes and the Ages of Faith. — Legend of the Chateau de Benac. — CONTENTS. Xlll Bagneres de Bigorre. — Bagneres de Luchon. — The old guide. — Bear-hunting. — A funny story. — Isard hunting. — A sad story. - - - - 227 CHAPTER XIX. THE LAWSUIT. Character of the Bearnais. — Begging. — The coat button. — The picture. — The asylum. — Henry IV. — Berna- dotte. — Arrested. — The President of Tribunals. — Denaturalised. — The trial. — Judgment - - 253 CHAPTER XX. PAU. Betheram. — A legend. — Birthplace of Henry IV. — Abd- el-Kader. — Dearness of Pau. — Unhealthiness of Pau. — Eaux Bonnes. — Pass of Hourat. — Little statue of the B. V. M. — Talking rocks. — Eaux Chaudes. — Climate. - - . . 265 CHAPTER XXI. FOKBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. From Pau to Rome. — Roman turncoats. — The Temporal Power. ...... 279 CHAPTER XXII. ANTE-KAILROAD TRAVELLING. Tailors at court. — A J. P. in the olden time. — P.M. the Duke of Wellington. — Taking the oath. — Schaff- hausen and Niagara. — St. Gothard. — An American traveller. — Lugano. — Blockade of the Ticino. — An Austrian corps de garde. — San Salvadore. — Frontier of Lombardy. — General Singer. — Again at Lugano. — Again the frontier. — The cow and the sword. — Away ! away !----- 296 xiv CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIII. A MURDER. An Italian inn. — The waggoner. — A mysterious joutli. — The pretore. — The gensdarmes. — CathoKc deputy- lieutenants. — How Austria lost Italy. — Mahomet and the Arab. ... - - 327 CHAPTER XXIV. SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. Papal Ceremonial. — The Santo Bambino — New Cardi- nals. — Pasquinades. — Death of a Roman Prince. — Confirmation. — Head of St. Laurence. — French army of occupation, and the Romans. - - 337 CHAPTER XXV. COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES, AND CARDINALS. Inventory of my furniture. — English toadyism. — The lady and the guardia nobile. — The same and the French prelate. — A letter and the censorship. — The English language. — Judgment by a Roman tribunal. — Queen Cristina of Spain. — My passport withheld. — Festas and Sundays ..... 349 CHAPTER XXVI. CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. Tableaux Vivants. — Florence Nightingale and the Nuns. — Catherine of the Wabash. — Rev. Mother at Scutari. — Pious lies. — Cardinal Wiseman and his attoriiies. — Ecclesiastical pi'operty. — Pio Nono and the Monks. — A suggestion. — Division of property. oG3 NOWADAYS. CHAPTER I. EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. The Wabash. — The medical consultation. — A roving com- mission. — An election at Southampton. " And now forgive me that I ask one question," said good old Dr. Latham, after pummelling and tapping and stethoscoping her collar-bones and her shoulder-blades to his heart's content ; " forgive me," he repeated, as he looked at the visiting card I had sent in, " if I ask whether I have the pleasure of seeing one of the young ladies of The Wabash — of that book of travels in the interior of the United States, which I have read with so much enjoyment?" Our conscious smiles shewed that he had rightly judged of the country visitors who had come up to town to consult him, "Curious coincidence!" exclaimed the kind- hearted old doctor, again feeling his little patient's pulse with still greater interest than before. •2 KN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. I myself did not see anything "curious" in the "coincidence"; but I thought that the expression might be a catch-word with the hvely physician, as it had been with my neighbour, the solemn Colonel Shedden, who, when the late Duchess of St. Alban's took a ring from her finger and explained to him that Charles the Second had given it to Nell Gwyn and that the Duke of St. Alban's had given it to her, thoughtlessly exclaimed, as he did on every imaginable and unimaginable occasion, "Curious comcidence ! A very curious coincidence!" "Well, then," resumed Dr. Latham, "I am happy to be able to declare that there is nothing whatever the matter with the lungs : — only a bronchial affection which must be taken care of this winter. Your daughter had better remain in-doors whenever the wind is in the north or the east, or when the air is damp and the sun does not shine.". . . . "But the sun never does shine in the winter, except when the wind is in the north or the east," I interposed. "True. I own that is pretty much the case during our English winters," repHed the doctor. "Of course, it would be safer if you could go abroad." EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. 3 "If such is your opinion, abroad we must go!" I answered with a heartfelt sigh : for it is not pleasant to break up one's establishment, to forego one's pursuits and interests, — in a word, to leave one's home at the beginning of winter, or, I am Englishman enough to think, at any time. "Whither are we to go ?" I asked, "I don't much care," replied Dr. Latham : "the case is not so serious but that I would prefer giving you a roving commission to go wherever you like. You probably know the different climates of the Continent better than I do. But you may safely stay in England until Christmas. Our cold weather does not set in till Christmas." This consultation had taken place on the 4 th of November, 1856. We returned on the same day by railway to Botleigh Grange. A large family cannot be unhoused and trans- ported abroad without many preparations. The doctor had given us till Christmas ; but we knew the dangers of travelling through France by land at that late season of the year, and of lodging an invalid for several nights in unfrequented French hotels. The weather was open and mild ; and our packing went on slowly. On the 28th of Novem- ber, an luiaccustomed fall of snow surprised our 4 EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. Sontli of Hampshii-e climate ; and a hard frost set in which lasted for a week. Then came warm cloudy weather, with blasts from the south-west, and frequent showers. Such was the morning of the 8th of December when, having sent all the rest of my family into Southampton before us, I drove in, with my wife, in the pony-carriage, drawn by the two Httle Black-forest ponies, now twenty-six years old, but wdiich did the six miles in the accus- tomed forty minutes. The town of Southampton was then in a state of unusual excitement. An election of a member of Parhament was impending, to replace Sir A. Cockburn, who had taken office. Two candidates from a distance were canvassing the borough on liberal prmciples ; and were opposed by Mr. Richard Andrews, the liberal coach-builder and mayor of the town, though discountenanced by Lord Palmerston and the great ironmonger, who had endeavoured to put a spoke in his wheel. En- coiu^aged by these divisions in the Hberal ranks, my friend and neighbour, the Hon. Sir Edw^ard Butler, was putting forth seductive addresses, and hoping to slip into the vacant seat on conservative principles. EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. 5 I pulled up my ponies at the door of my printer s shop — "Have at you all, Mr. Marshall!" I exclaimed: "Get this thing printed as soon as possible, and posted about the town." In the course of the afternoon, the following address was read by many an elector — with what sentiments I cared not, I copy it here in order that those who will have to accompany me through many revolutionary scenes may know, at starting, what were my political principles : — "To THE Liberal Electors of Southampton. "Gentlemen,— The constituency of Southampton is so immensely increased within the last ten years, that many of you may not be aware of its previous electoral history. At about that period, it was deemed advisable to secure a Liberal Candidate connected by property with the neighbourhood, and whose position would entitle him to the honour of representing the borough in Parliament. In conformity with that opinion, Mr. Richard Andrews headed a deputation to my house, and presented a requisition, at the head of which stood his own name, inviting me to offer myself at the next en- (■) KN nOUTE VOll ICVEJJYWHEEE. suing election. I assented to the honour proposed to nie ; and, after I had explained my political principles at a large meeting of the then important Reform Association, Mr. Andrews proposed the follo\ving result : — Resolved. — 'That a requisition, inviting J. R. Beste, Esq., to become a candidate for the representation of this borough upon liberal principles, having been accepted by that gentleman, and this meeting, having heard Mr. Beste's eloquent address and declaration of his opinions, do hereby pledge themselves to give him their unflinching support, and use their utmost strenuous exertions to secure his election at the next vacancy.' 'The resolution' (I quote from the Hampshire hide- 'pendent of January ord, 1846) 'was agreed to unanimously.' " The election came on m the following year, and I was at my post, prepared to fight your battle against two Conservative candidates ; but, in the meantime, some of the ' Liberals' of Southampton, who had been used to cheer at every meeting the sentiment of Civil and Religious Liberty, had the impertinence and inconsistency to question the private religious opinions in which I was born, and object that my religion, as an English Catholic, dis- qualified me for a seat in Parliament. Mr. Andrews EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. 7 and the Whig Government took up the recreant bigot cry : Sir A. Cockburn was sent down to oppose me, and I was obUged to withdraw from the contest. " But, in my partmg address, I took leave of you only for a time. I repeated to you what my prmciples were, and had ever been — a Free Trader before Free Trade was thought of — opposed to all State endowments and legal exactions whatsoever, in support of whatsoever religion, in whatsoever part of the world, before the excellent society for the liberation of religion had a being — an advocate for the extension of the suffrage and vote by ballot from my youth upwards. I referred you to my printed and published opinions which I have put forth for the last thirty years — for I began life early — and I told you that, if ever you should think the principles you profess worth contending for, I would be ready to advocate them with you and for us all. " Such was the state of the borough ten years ago. An election is again impending, and Mr. Andrews (your present mayor, and a most skilful coachmaker) is now, with two other liberal candi- dates from a distance, dividing the liberal con- stituency of the borough. It is not my purpose to 8 EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE. divide it still more. The conservatives have found the advantage of securing for their candidate a gentleman of position and property in the neigh- bourhood. I merely put forth this address to in- form the new blood amongst you that, should you ever think it wise to- recur to the same plan, you will find me, as I have ever been, prepared to ad- vocate what I believe to be the interests of the people and the rights of man. One of the oldest magistrates in this division, a deputy-heutenant for the county, connected with your towai by ex- tensive landed property and many ties, I will be with you should you ever wish to go to the poll for the sake of principle. The liberation of all religions from state control is the only principle I now think worth contending for. I care not to stand on any other. "I should not have addressed you now but for the disunion brought into the liberal ranks by Mr. Andrews. What will be the upshot, it rests with you to say. The health of one of my family compels me to go to Lisbon during the severity of the wmter season. But the election will not be yet ; and, if you care for principle rather than for expediency, if you will not be dictated to by half EN ROUTE FOR EVERYWHERE, 9 a score of bigots who call themselves liberals, I shall be within hail, and always "Your faithful neighbour and servant, J. Richard Digby Beste." "Botleigh Grange, 8th December, 1856." I left Mr. Marshall perusing the above address ; and our ponies rattled down to the Docks. CHAPTER 11 THE MAIL PACKET. The P. and 0. Company and my horses. — The muster-roll. — Pleasant anchorage. — Diversions in . a storm. — The Admiralty agent. The old Tagus of the Peninsular and Oriental Company, lay in the same place where I had before seen it, along side the quay. My family and carriage were on board. One of my horses — the iron-grey one which, confidingly and mteUi- gently, always, in any difficulty, first followed me or the coachman, that he might encourage the other — was swinging in mid air above the ship's side ; trembling, but yet neighmg to the other that stood under an open shed awaiting its turn. My coachman came and complained to me that the Company had provided two boxes of unequal size ; and that one of them was too small for horses nearly seventeen hands high ; and that the agents had refused to change it, alleging that they had THE MAIL PACKET. 11 no other. Let this be borne m mind. Let it be borne in mind also that our places had been taken a fortnight before, and that the Company had charged one hundred pounds for our passage. Our party consisted of my wife and me, our three daughters, and two little boys ; two maids, our butler, coachman, carriage and these two horses. The sky was overcast. Broken clouds hung low. The air was warm ; gusts of wind rushed over us ; and rain came down in frequent showers. " What do you think of the weather?" we asked, with nervous anxiety, of the officer on deck ; who, with blue caj) strapped imder his chin and his hands in his breeches pockets, was dividing his attention between the lowering sky and our horses swinging in air. The little man grinned with apparent delight, and showed his white teeth from ear to ear. " If ever you had a rough passage by sea m your life," he said, " prepare for one now. You had better go and msure those horses." This was not encoiu*aging. But we were regu- larly booked for Lisbon, and there was no escape. I went on shore to the Company's office and pro- posed to insure my horses. The Company could only insure against loss by sliipwreck, but not 12 THE MAIL PACKET. against any other accident. Of shipwreck, I had no fear. " You need have no fear of anything, sir," exclaimed the agent, Captain Engledew : " The weather looks ugly in port ; but the wind is going down and it will be all right before you get out- side the Isle of Wight." I returned on deck, and told my grinning friend what I had heard. He grinned more than ever : jiidled the collar of his rough great coat around his ears, and thrust his hands deeper into his breeches pockets. At half-past three. Captain Christian, our skipper, came on board. We shook hands with our domestic chaplam, who returned on shore, promismg that he would offer up many a prayer for us. The chimney hissed. The paddles plashed. The Tagus moved its unwieldy bulk ; and we went below deck to arrange our cabins. There the ladies occupied themselves while the vessel was in the calm of the Southampton water. I myself returned on deck, w^iere my coachman and the ship's carpenter were arranging a sort of pent-house over the heads of the horses, to protect them against the rain and wind. Curlews circled overhead and amid the ruins of Netley Abbey on the left bank. Returning fishmg boats danced, like THE MAIL PACKET. 13 waliiut shells, on the tiiiy waves. The clonds scud- ded past, and dashed single rain-drops in our faces. The muster-roll to dinner was well attended ; for we had not yet rounded Calshot Castle ; and all our fellow-passengers showed themselves to the right and left of the captain. Leaving a vacant place for the Admiralty agent who kept his cabin, there sat a gouty colonel who was going out to Gibraltar to escape an English winter : there sat an English cavalry officer Mdth his young -wife : there sat two or three other English officers with- out wives : and there sat one who had overstaid his leave, and who expected to be j)ut under arrest so soon as he should land at Gibraltar. There sat a lady and gentleman with their old father going to Malaga, by medical advice, in the hope that the climate might prolong the old man's life : and there sat an elderly man — a great wine merchant of Cadiz — Chastening to rejoin his wife, and with solemn mockery pooh-poohing the grave looks which the weather called up in us all and even in the ship's officers. He and one or two others were seasoned sailors and defied the briny influences : the rest of us round the dinner table were as jolly as fresh-caught fish gasping in a wicker-basket. The motion of the steamer increased ; and most 14 THK MAIL PACKET. of* the company rushed on deck with the pretence of wishinsf to see her round Calshot Castle. Calshot Castle, indeed, was there ; and there was The Island, as we Hampshire men call it, rising on our left hand — its bleak do^^ais blending with the darkening skies and the lowering clouds. Nearer to us, these were streaming in the likeness of horse-tails swept by the rushing blast. The tops of the short waves were lashed into foam around us ; and sea-gulls careered and circled wildly overhead. My friend, the second mate, who had foretold us a rough passage, was keeping the quarter deck, and touched his cap with a triumphant grin, as I passed by him. The Ad- miralty agent came up and paced the deck with the captain, often pausmg to look anxiously at the threatening sky. We watched him as one on whom our fate depended. "Would he were fat- ter I" I exclaimed as we noted his tall spare form and the quiet glance with which he eyed the horizon. " He is a hard, stern man !" whispered my wife, " and there is no hope that he will order the cap- tain to put back. It is evident that he will carry on his mail bags to the bottom of the sea." Disconsolately we plodded oui- anxious way THE MAIL PACKET. 15 between the island and the low lands of the New Forest ; and noted the falling back of the coast on either hand and the opening of the waters in front. We came upon several tall vessels and steamers, and were rejoiced to see the crew of our own vessel casting anchor amongst them. We felt like doomed prisoners suddenly reprieved ; and the night wore quietly away as we lay thus in Yarmouth Roads. Tuesday Morning. — The wind was evidently higher than it had been yesterday. But the thin admiralty agent and Captain Christian, who looked as impassive as he, consulted together ; the anchor was heaved on board, and at half after nine we pushed out mto the open channel. Suffice it to say that the following houi's were disgusting — whether we passed them reclining in our cabin or in the saloon, or on the wet and storm-swept deck, I knew not, and scarce heeded which way we were going ; and it was with a grunt of dubious satis- faction that, at half-past four in the afternoon, I found that we were again anchored in our old moorings of Yarmouth Roads. Again the criminals were unexpectedly reprieved. We dined and spent a pleasant evening. The admiralty agent. Lieu- tenant Loyd, unthawed, and proved that he was not so stern a man. Captain Christian, too, shewed KJ THE MAIL PACKET. that he had human sympathies, as we all laughed at the hnpatience of the old Cadiz wine merchant who surlily insisted that we ought to have pushed on through the gale in order the sooner to bear him to the arms of his venerable wife. Wednesday. — No abatement of the gale. Hard as ever, it blew from the south-west directly in the teeth of our course. Up with the anchor ; and again we struggle out into the storm, while stern determination again comes over Mr. Loyd and the captain of the Tagus. We left the great steamer, Tlie Avon, quietly anchored in the Roads ; and through the rising waves we splashed and cut our way. My coachman staggered to me on the quarter- deck, and requested me to have the horses seen to, for that he was going to lie up for the rest of the voyage. I examined the state of the poor animals. The one in the larger box seemed to be doing well ; the chest of the poor grey was swollen, owuig to his constantly striking it against the top rail of the box, which ought to have risen to his throat. He neighed as I felt his ears and ha,d a sack, filled with hay and chaff, placed, as a cushion, between his chest and the rail. I then lay myself disconsolate on the deck until my old friend, the second mate, took pity on my state ; and, without any show of THE MAIL PACKET. 17 triumph that his prophecy was fulfilled, led me to his own cabin on the deck, where I remained for houi'S apart from the noisome noises that disturbed the main saloon. The sea broke over the cabin and splashed on the deck outside ; but I pulled to the door and tried to interest myself in reading Cooper's novel, ''The Pilot." Breakfast, luncheon, dinner, tea, and supper held, however, their accus- tomed hours with such of us as felt no ill effects from the sea, or valiantly battled agamst them ; and our daughters learned to like "crab," made for them with Cheshire cheese and mustard by the old gouty Colonel, or bravely paced the deck with the admiralty agent. Lieutenant Lloyd, who interested them in the fate of his own children, or in the sympathy he evinced for themselves. We no longer looked at the kind sailor's intelligent grey head and light blue eye with Vvdshes "that he were fatter." CHAPTEK TIT, THE BAY OF BISCAY Royal Presents. — The Storm. — The Novena. — Saved. We had left Southampton dock on Monday, and now, on Thursday, we ought to have been enter- ing the Tagus ; but here we were, still tossing about in the old tub of that name, and able only to congratidate ourselves that if she was the slowest, she was the safest sea boat belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company : that our captain and stewards were most attentive ; and that in the opinion of all the children and ladies on board, the stewardess, Mrs. Paul, was worth her weight in gold — though so vast a nugget was never dug out of Australian oi' Califomian mine. One or two of the cavalry officers came to me with evil prognostications about my poor grey horse. His ears were cold, and blood was running from THE BAY OF BISCAY. 19 his nose and mouth. The people of the ship said that it came from his head : but we observed that it gushed out more copiously whenever the motion of the vessel threw him against that top rail of his low horse-box. My feelings towards the Company which had sent a valuable horse to sea in a box uusuited to it became very savage. The second mate, Mr. Shrubsole, and the sailors, did all they could : the first mate, a man named Johnson, whose nature did not seem to be freighted with an over- cargo of sympathy or politeness, contented himself with saying that, " of course, all horses fared ill on board the Peninsular steamers : that they had taken on board three presented by the Queen of England to the King of Portugal, and that two of them had died on the passage, and the other as soon as it was landed." My friend of the cavalry replied that he him- self had brought home scores of horses from the Crimea without the slightest difficulty or accident. Captain Christian was anxious and wholly en- gaged in the management of his vessel. We were entering the Bay of Biscay, and the gale blew harder than ever. Fridays — Still the storm seemed to increase, and our discomforts certainly did so. My wife 20 Tin-: p.AV uF Biscay. Ill 1(1 1 had a fouv-bcrth cabin to ourselves. She liad occupied the berth nearest the side of the shij), that she might have air from the port-holes. These, however, had necessarily been shut down at starting; though it had been early discovered, ^^•ith the rising of the waves, that they could not be effectually closed. Again and again the ship's carpenter had been sent for ; but he could not prevent the water from oozing through : so that now the mattrass on which she lay was thoroughly saturated ; and the clothes in her carpet bag and on the lower berth, which we used as a table, were all wet throusfh with the brine. Such was the accommodation on board the Tagus, for which the P. and 0. Company charged ten pounds per head ! As we lay in our berths, it was evident to us, from the motion of the vessel, that the gale and the waves had increased during the night. The tossing of the ship had upon me the same effect that the rocking of a cradle has upon a sleeping child. It made me drowsy beyond measure ; and I felt that I C(juld have slept away successive days. My poor wife crawled across the cabin and, kneel- ing beside my berth and clutching to it to steady THE BAY OF BISCAY. 21 herself, tried to convince nie that wo were all in great danger. " From what ?" I drowsily asked. " There are no rocks near, and how can the broad old tub sink unless she has a hole in her bottom to let in tlie water ?" Through all my impassiveness, however, the thought was ever present to my mind that we might, perchance, go to the bottom; and then T looked on the bronze crucifix hanging in front of me, and which was already turned quite green, with the washing of the brine through the port- hole. I said prayers and commended ourselves to the Almighty; and then I consoled myself with the thought that, if we did go to the bottom, we should all go down together — that no daughters or young children were on land to suffer the want of guardianship ; and then I thought, with Csesar, that there could be nothing to fear, because that I — great I — was on board : and anon it occurred to me that the world had gone on without Csesar, and that it might go on as well even without me or mine, and that the utmost result of our loss to the public would be a paragraph in the papers saying how sadly a whole family had sunk together — while those who read the paragraph 22 THE BAY OF BISCAY. would nitlier that we had gone down than that they should have missed the readmg of the ac- count : and so I agam prayed and dozed, and dozed and prayed ; and at length 1 roused myself, dressed, and went upon deck. Truly enough the wind had mcreased and the waves were running what is called " mountains high." Lieutenant Lloyd told me that the cap- tam was fearful that his stock of coal would not last out across the Bay, and had been doubting whether he should not try to work in towards Bordeaux : he would not have hesitated to do so had he known the coast, although there would have been danger in attempting to alter the course of the vessel. While we were conversing, the captain came up, and said to Mr. Lloyd, " Let us hoist the trysail and make a run for our lives." It was done, and away we staggered for a few hoiu's m a direct line across the Bay. In the evening, while we were down m the saloon, this sail was blown out of its bolts with a tremendous clash ; and while it flapped and bellied out on every side, we heard a scrambling on the deck as if the whole crew were being washed overboard. Tears began to stream down the cheeks of the siuly Cadiz ^^ine-mel■chant, A\iio THE BAY OF BISOAV. 23 bemoaned his folly in having come l)j sea rather than face a nine days' journey by land — although he still maintained that all our danger was owing to our having lain so long in Yarmouth Roads rather than rush at once into the storm. The gouty colonel and the captain of cavalry looked grave, like sensible men ; the young gentleman who expected to be put under arrest on his arrival at Gibraltar, with one or two other of his brother officers, played at chuck-farthing agamst the wine- glasses on the table, and laughed and talked uproariously and nervously-loud to conceal their fears. Suddenly the ship staggered mider a dull blow, as from a mountain of mud cast against its side : a part of the paddle-box was washed away ; and another huge wave, emulating its predecessor, leaped upon the top of the skylight of our saloon ; stove it m ; and brought it, with all its glass and framework, upon the dining-table before us. Lieutenant Lloyd hastened on deck. Captain Christian was there— self-collected and giving all the needful orders with the coolness of an expe- rienced sailor. He knows not that he was heard to whisper to himself, " Oh God, what will become of my poor wife and children ! " The ui valid passengers who were going to Malaga 24 THE BAY OF BISCAY. were, like ourselves, Catholics. That lady, also, had her husband and child on board. That evening she went quietly round to all the cabins 6ccupied by my family, and by such other of our co-religion- ists as were on board, and urged that all should im- mediately begin a "novena" — certain and the same prayers to be said by all at the same time and mth the same common intent ; but she proposed that, instead of being said every day, they should be said whenever the bell struck— for, amid all our danger, the ship-disciplme was maintained. The suggestion was joyfully adopted by all. I know not why it was not mentioned to me — I beheve I was not m my cabin at the time. I only know that, after the second striking of the bell and the second repetition of the prayers, one of the noisy Gibraltar officers was heard on the companion ladder exclaiming, — "Hallo ! The wind has veered to the north- wards !" "Aye : quite unexpectedly," replied another. " There must be some good soul on board that has been praying for us." CHAPTER ly. NEW SHORES. Lost ships. — Vigo. — The brutal first-mate. — The murdered horse. — Money versus Letters. — Our log. — Coasting. — The other Tagus — The Custom House. — Night- walk in Lisbon. Saturday. — Although it had sHghtly moderated, a stiff gale was still blowing, but rather from the north. My poor grey horse was now evidently in much suffering. The blows of the upper rail of his box, against which he had been thrown so long, had brought on inflammation of the chest, which he now reHeved by a constant swinging motion — throwing himself back and then against it :. while every fresh pressure caused more blood to issue from his mouth. The quarter-master, who had taken my coachman's place about him, kept it washed out and supplied him with the water he incessantly craved by unmistakeable signs : while the foolish people around insisted that he must be doing well because he cat the hay that was placed l:)cfore him. 2(> NEW SHORES. They knew not that a horse will die with food in its mouth. Sunday. — The gale had sensibly decreased ; and although, to passengers who had not been exposed to such a storm, the sea would have still appeared to run "mountams high," we felt it to be compara- tively still water ; and our daughters delighted to walk the quarter-deck by the help of good Lieu- tenant Lloyd's arm ; and heeded not that it in- clmed on one side at an angle of forty-five degrees, and that, every no^v and then, the rising and sinking of the prow and stern gave them a steep hill to breast, or made them run down to the further end. Thus were we advancing w^ith re- newed hope and spirits, when a large steamer met us from the south-west and hailed us. Both tried to lie to ; but were carried beyond the range of the speaking trumpet. Again both wore round ; and tlien, borne along the blast and over the foam- curled waves, came the rough inquiry, — "What has become of the Ripon steamer ? Long due at Vigo." "Left Southampton four days before us. Not seen her. Had enough to do to look after our- selves." Again we rolled forward through the sea ; but NEW SHORES. 27 at a slower rate : for, as our captain had foreseen would happen, his coal had fallen short, and we were now burnmg the refuse, of which, fortunately, a large quantity seemed to have accumulated in the lower regions. Monday. — We had passed Corunna : had rounded Cape Finisterre. Land was in sight on our left hand. The sun shone bright. The sea was comparatively smooth. The air was warm. Our invalid daughter, for whom we had under- taken this voyage, came on deck. All looked bright and fau-. We passed inside some pic- turesque rocky islands on the right ; steamed up a quiet bay ; and cast anchor before a picturesque town surmounted by an old castle, by wooded hills, and by a massive church. We were in Vigo harbour : one of the safest and best and largest harbours in the world ; but the shipping of which was now represented by our own battered steamer, and by one or two Spanish coasting luggers. My first care was to land my poor murdered horse — destroyed by the negligence of the P. and O. Company. I thought he might possibly recover after a few days' rest on shore, and could rejom us l)y land, or by another steamer. My coachman had I'cappeared as soon as \xe were undci' the 28 NE^Y SHorvES. shelter of the Spanish coast, and now anxiously busied himself about him. The poor beast seemed scarcely able to stand ; but was lowered, in his ill-fated box, into the barge that came alongside and was to convey him to shore, "I say," cried the first mate, Mr. Johnson, of whose unprepossessing ways I have already writ- ten ; "I say," he cried to a sailor, "unloose those slings from under the horse and throw them up 1)) lere. I expostulated that the horse was too weak and battered to support himself on his legs without slingfs until he reached the shore. "We have nothmg- to do with him when he is once off the ship's side," replied Mr. Johnson. A murmur of disa^'ust arose from the Eng-hsh officers around, who had taken an interest in the sufferings of the noble horse ; and when I took out my tablets and showed the mate that I had written down his very words, and should report what care he took of the property entrusted to the P. and 0. Company, he muttered something about being personally responsible for the slings, and ordered the sailors to bring them back so soon as the horse should be landed. We watched the poor beast rolling from side to NEW SHORES. 29 side with the motion of the barge ; and heard his frequent neigh to his companion remaining on deck. He was alongside the quay and, staggering, stood upon dry land again, and was led out of sight. Let me finish the history of the poor murdered grey, and let me be excused for saying so much about him, for that we had done much together. I had first seen him a three year old, five years before, in the stable of a dealer in Oxford Street, the property of a Norfolk land- owTier who had bred him, and who valued him at £170. He had served me well in Hampshire; and I had driven him myself through France and Switzerland, and over the St. Gothard to Rome. We understood one another. My coachman, who landed at Vigo with him, rejoined me a few days after : but without the grey. He told me that his sufferings throughout the night had been most apparent ; that his shrieks— those strange wild shrieks that horses so seldom emit even in their agony — had disturbed all the hotel; on the fol- lowing morning he had looked the coachman steadily in the face and died. At Vigo, we learned that the Ripon steamer, respecting which so much anxiety had been ex- pressed, and which had left Southampton four :^0 NEW SHORES. days before us, was lying safely in the harbour of Connma. She had on board no mails, but a very large amount of specie ; and, to secure its safety, she had run from the storm into port. Our Tagus carried the mails and passengers ; but these latter, being less valuable than specie, had been endangered by keeping the sea. Mem : Never to go to sea again in a mail packet ; but always to prefer one carrying specie. The Alkamhra, respectmg which our captain was anxious, and w^iich we ought to have met long ago, had put back to Lisbon. The powerful Brazilian steamer, the Avon, which w^e had left anchored in Yarmouth Roads, was only now pass- ing southwards. I record these details to prove that we had been out in no common gale. We were delighted afterwards to see that the Enghsh journals of that day did justice to the severity of the weather. Indeed when, on my arrival, I claimed of the Peninsular and Oriental Company compensation for my horse, destroyed by being placed in too small a horse-box, I received, in answer. Captain Christian's report, which stated — "The weather was such that I myself am perfectly surprised that either of them hved, or, in fact, that carriage, horses, and everythmg on deck was NEW 8H()ltES. 31 not washed overboard. The gales and sea from the 10th to the 13th m the Bay and Channel being of such a furious character that I do not remember to have encountered anything like it for many years ; in proof of which I beg to refer you to the remarks in the log." No compensation was given. We had to con- sole ourselves with the thought that matters might have been worse. I would not, however, leave Captain Christian and his second mate, Mr, Shrubsole, without bearing testimony to their very great civility, kindness, and attention to the comfort and security of all on board. And now all was calm and sunshine as we steamed out of Vigo bay, and took our course along the rock-bound coast of Spain. Gradually it became less and less precipitous, and towns and villages showed themselves in the light of the settmg sun. We held our steady way ; nor felt a regret that our steamer did not approach and lie off Oporto. To land once and for all, was our only anxiety, Tuesday morning arose bright and warm and balmy in the gentle breezes from the spread- ing western sea. The Berlingas rocks stood up, bold and fantastic, from the water, and, after :V2 NEW SHORES. •passing before them, the coast again rose in bold- ness. The towers of Mafra loomed gloomily on the mainland ; and pinnacles that we were told arose in Cintra, engaged every eager eye. We rounded the promontory and the low sandbanks, and steamed quietly up the yellow Tagus. And yellow, indeed, were its tiny waves and the rocks and villages on its shores in the glow of the December sun. It was the 16th of December; and it looked and felt like a beautiful summer's day. The windows in the picturesque old castle of Belem were spangled with yellow and ruddy glint as they stood out m the river coiu'se ; and pile above pile of the town of Lisbon crept up the steep hill-side and overlooked the glassy stream. A few English vessels of war were there quietly anchored ; and a boat pulled off from one of them for despatches. We gave them and proceeded on our course ; and, at four o'clock in the afternoon, anchored on the outside of a mass of shippmg which lay between us and a handsome building which they told us was the custom-house. The shores of the upper river about the city looked flat and uninteresting : and altogether the shores of the Tagus lacked the massive woodland, or the clumps and single trees and the bold cliffs NEW SHORES. I] 3 and pinnacles of rock that are needed to the composition of a picturesque landscape. An ex- panse of water was, indeed, there. The town rose on steep acclivities on our left ; the high shores on the opposite side were brown with the bare rock and earth, or verdant with pai'tial vegetation : but this was all — all, save the glorious sun that was now sinking in splendour behind them. I left all the passengers at dinner in the saloon ; and, with the help of Mr. Vanzaller, the Company's agent, who came on board and showed much zeal, activity, and good humour, I overlooked the land- ing of my carriage and of the remaining one of my horses. The carriagfe was detained in the custom- house, as being something almost worse than con- traband goods. They pitied the state of the horse, and permitted it to be led at once to a stable in the town. I returned on board to fetch my family ; and after the usual amount of wrangling amongst boatmen and porters, we all landed at the custom- house steps at seven o'clock. The people had left work for the night, — all but one, who civilly told us to bring forward our "bag-nights," as he in- geniously called our carpet-bags ; and, having satisfied himself bv a glance that their contents :U NEW SHORES. were really of the kind wliich he wished to denote by that expressive word, he politely wished us good night, and sent vis forth with a retinue of porters. It was now quite dark, and we groped our way under the tropical evergreen trees beside the custom-house ; and, remembering the descriptions in Childe Harold and other writers, dreaded to think of the walk that lay before us through the streets of Lisbon. The porter opened the wide gates of the yard ; and, going forth, we found our- selves m a vast space, the sides of which were too distant for us to perceive the architecture of the buildings around, although" the size and outline of the square were plainly marked by the lines of brilliant gas lamps that circled it. We crossed the space diagonally, and came upon a cluster of gas lamps in the centre, surrounding a large pile surmounted by an equestrian statue. This, then, was what the English call "Black Horse Square." We threaded our way along a handsome street, still well lighted with gas, and paved on either side ; and we sought lodgings at different hotels. All were too full to accommodate us ; but the mistress of the Braganga good-naturedly offered to lodge us for the night in her own private house. NEW SHORES. 'M) After a hearty supper, we sank into beds that appeared— oh ! so luxurious, after the wet holes in which we had been "cabined, cribbed, confined," for nine days in the wretched Tagus ! Soon, how- ever, how mine began to rock and spin beneath me ! All night, I seemed to be climbing waves and sinking into their hollows ; and for two days afterwards, everything swam around me, and I staggered on level ground, as that vessel herself had laboured and rolled across the Bay of Biscay. CHAPTER V. A NEW LOCATION. Lisbon by daylight. — Hissing in Portugal and Australia — No lodgings. — A retrospective quotation. — Christmas Eve. — A terrific hotel bill. When we awoke next morning, we found that we had slept mth a large wmdow of our bedroom open to the north. It mattered not. It was the 1 7th of December ; but, in that beautiful climate, what mattered it whether a window Avere open or shut at niofht ? Again I returned to the custom-house, and claimed my luggage, which had been landed and left there. It was but slightly examined, if at aU, and passed without difficulty. England is the only country m the world in which custom-house officers are really troublesome. To get my carriage was, however, a more difficult matter. The importation of carriages seems to be strictly forbidden ; and it was only by the favour of the A NEW LOCATION. Portuguese Minister of Finance, whom I waited upon in person, that I was permitted to have it, after paying down to the treasury £90 as a de- posit, to be returned whenever I should take it out of Portugal. But how magnificent were the public buildings that I had to visit in order to accomplish this arrangement ! Seen by night, as we had walked to our hotel, the streets and squares through which we passed, brilliantly as they were lighted by gas, had most unexpectedly impressed me ; but when I got acquainted with them now by daylight, I could but marvel at a vastness of design, and a grandeur of architecture, that I had nowhere seen expended on such establishments. All this part of Lisbon, having m fact been destroyed by the great earthquake, arose again, like London after its fire, on one uniform plan of rectilinear grandeiu^ ; and it would be difficult to find handsomer dis- tricts, in any city, than " Black Horse Square" (as the English call the Praca do Commercio) than the Bocio, and the streets about them. Other parts of the city justify still all that Child e Harold says against it. No sewers there exist, and the street is the common receptacle of everything that is 38 A NEW LOCATION. thrown out of the window, and that does not aUght upon the person of the passer by. But the population of the streets, the strange dress and habits of those who throng them, offer an endless fund of amusement, until the freshness of compaiison is worn oft'. The great cloaks that hang loosely over the shoulders of the men ; the white kerchiefs pinned over the heads and under the chins of the women ; the tall sugar-loaf broad- brimmed hats of the peasants : their gaudy dress ; their trowsers tied up with a long red sash ; their jackets, with dangling silver buttons, thrown over their left shoulders like Figaro in the play ; their shu't fronts fastened by large gilt clasps ; their long brass-bound cudgels, which they often manage to bring with them mto the city, instead of leaving them, according to police regulation, at the gate, as if they were going into a museum and the citizens' heads were objects of art that might be cracked or broken ; the blue coats and trowsers and straight black Hessian boots of the priests, whose sacerdotal dress is certainly that of a church mihtant ; the heavy-loaded carts and waggons drawn by magnificent oxen, and creaking along the streets as the lumbering axle turns with the lumbering wheels which are fastened to it ; — the A NEW LOCATION. 39 greatest thoroughfare in the town is called the " E-ua do Sciados — creaking street," from the inimber of these vehicles that pass along it ; the little loose-swinging tumbril carriages jerking and iolting hither and thither, and drawn by a pair of little mules— carriages in which the very first of the gentry, and my valued friend, Marshal Duke of Terceu'a among the rest, delight — his beautiful Duchess had a more modern equipage ; the long livery coats of the coachmen and servants, which come down to their heels, and so render other livery unnecessary because unseen ; all these, and a thousand more strange objects, delighted me during my first walk, and until the novelty of all I saw wore gradually away. I remembered me of the prints in a little edition I had left at home of Gil Bias. There were many carriages, mules, men-servants, and personages who must, methought, have been drawn from the life I now saw around me. And yet those purported to represent Spaniards. The manners of the j)^^)?!^ were not less curious. I had been talking to one, and, havmg parted from him, had gone half down the street, when I heard a succession of violent sounds of "hish ! hish I" behind me. 1 turned round to see 40 A NKW l.tHATION. what poor devil ooukl bo iiicmTing suoli a hissing fi\->m tho mob. when I pereeived my Poitiigiiese acquaintance signing- to nie that he wished to say something more. I paused, and lie came u]i piuiting : but no one of the crowd paid the least attention to the call, except one or two hoi"ses that I noticed to stand srill. rill their diivei-s gjwe them to tnidei'stand, that it was not addressed to themselves. I should now stop in any sti^eet in Europe at the sound of this well-learned "hish'*! which is as peculiar as the "*coe" of the Australians; one of wliom, we are told, looking out of a second- floor window in the Strand, saw a settler, whom he had not knowni to be in England, piss on with the crowd on the opposite side of the street. " Coe !*' cried the Australian from the -window ; the othet in the street instantly p\used and gazed around and above, till he discovei"eii who it was that called him by the only soimd he could have distingiiished in the hnbbub. My Ju'^^ser was just taking leave of me when up rushed a friend of his, who seemed as surprised at the meeting as the two Australians in London had been ; and, catching my Portuguese i*ound the waist, lifted him three times tairlv off his leers, in the heartiness of his delighted and friendlv huj^. A NKW L0(.'A'IIOX. 41 I went on iny way — passing many a l;il)<»ni ing man, or Gallician water-carrier, who, meeting a friend of the same class, Avould greet liim Asitli a low bow, and pray that God would give him good days, and then politely inquire into the health of every member r»f his family. All this was very well and very amusing ; but I could not find nor hear of any house or apartment to be let — no, not even unfurnished, if I could have hired furniture to put into it. I was told that, as soon as Brazilians had made their fortune, they returned to settle in the mother-coimtry and bought up every h(juse before it was built, or in the market ; and, as no travelling English or other strangers ever came to Lisbon, apartments to let were not provided. Formerly, when the rest of the Continent w^as shut against us by the wars or policy of the first Napoleon, our country people, as "we all know, ventured to Lisbon to enjoy a mild winter climate ; but since the Soutli of France, Italy, and Egypt have been open to them, none woidd brave a voyage across the Bay of Biscay when they could secure what they believed to be an equally good climate without risking a lengthened sea-route. I was in despair, and w^ould have put up with almost any lodging rather 42 A NEW J.OCATION. than remain in an hotel, — for, though we had moved into good rooms in the Braganca on the day after our arrival, and were well satisfied with that hotel, still an hotel could not be a comfortable home for a family of young girls and children. At length our minister, the Hon. Mr. Howard, and Mr. Smith our consul, both of whom kindly interested themselves for us, brought me word that a Mrs. Jones, who kept a respectable boarding- house in a good quarter of the town, offered to give it up to us. I went to see it ; found much that I did not like, and would have turned away from, but that our friends assured me that I must either take that or stay in the hotel. It was Hobson's choice. I bargained, however, with Mrs. Jones that she and all her own family and servants should leave the premises and give up the whole to us; and for £lOO she agreed to these terms, and surrendered it to us for four months from Christmas Day. And here let me return once more upon the past to quote two or three pages which, m looking over memoranda of our jo moneys, I have just found in the handwriting of one whom, those who have read the "Wabash" avlQ, I am sm^e, be glad to meet with again. I can form no better wish for A NEW LOCATION. 43 them and for myself, than that we may all meet again my dear, my beautiful daughter Lucy. Thus, then, runs her little manuscript : — "Everything was now prepared for our departure from Botleigh Grange, and I believe every one was sorry to go. Papa and mamma disliked the crossing of the sea. For some days, the weather had changed. Instead of the bright frost and snow, we had nasty, warm, close weather, and very high winds, almost hurricanes ; but we were to start on the 8th of December, and I felt that, whatever the weather, we should be safe. Dr. MacAuliff, our chaplain, gave us all medals that had been blessed with prayers for the wearers of them ; and, on the morning of the 8th, papa, mamma, and I received Holy Communion. We had all done the same on the 6th. At half-past two the boat started. Every one expected bad weather, and at night, we anchored off Yarmouth because the weather was too rough for us to go on. I was in high spirits and felt sure that we should come to no harm. Next morning, we started again ; the sea was very high, and we were tossed about terribly, and every plank creaked. I was very bad. At midday, I heard that we had turned back, and at four, we were in still water again. 44 A NEW LOCATION. Next morning we tried it again, and this time we went on ; but I was obliged to go down to the cabin with the captain's help, and was very sad. It was very awful to feel the rolling and tossing ; to hear all the planks creaking and moanmg ; and, every now and then a smash of glasses. The stonn continued all night ; and next day, Thursday, it was as bad. Eveiy sailor was sick : nobody had seen such weather for years : still I felt, ' We are quite safe — no harm will come to us.' On Friday, it was worse than ever ; but though I was so sure that we were quite safe, I was praying all the time. I was quite ready to die, and knew that we were in great danger, but still I felt that we should be saved. Friday night, a great sea came into the saloon : for a moment I thought we had sprung a leak, and that all was over ; but when I heard the water coming from above, I knew it was all right. I heard them put up a sail to steady us, and then that it was blo^^al away like a ribbon. Still we prayed, and I never lost my faith. I could not think that God would disregard the mass that was daily offered for us by Dr. Mac Auliff, at home ; I could not doubt that the Blessed Virgin would pray for us, and so I was not afraid, for mv Jesus ^^'as with me. I had been A NEW LOCATION. 45 very sick and had not got up since Wednesday, but had eaten hardly anything ; on this Friday, I was better. I heard that every one on board was in bad spirits, except some one who had tried to jest with the captain, who had told him that it was no jesting matter. Mamma had been very sick, and was in low spirits. " At nine o'clock, Mrs. Roupe came and proposed that we should all say a novena. We said the prayers directly. After we had said them the second time, I heard some one coming down stairs, saying the glass was rising, etc. I went to mamma and found her crymg and very ill. I tried to comfort her, and went upstairs. Mr. Loyd helped me, and stayed with me some time. The captain took me to his cabin, and shewed me on the chart where we were — about one-third across the Bay of Biscay ; and I realised our position. The sea was running mountains high ; but they said it had gone down in a most surprising manner. Mrs. Boupe and I were the only ladies up. Saturday ; still improving. The wdnd was favour- able ; and, on Sunday, we went on beautifully to Vigo. And now gratitude instead of prayer took possession of me. While we were stopping at Vigo, I said the Te Deum and Gloria in Excelsis 40 A NEW LOCATTOX. and the Litany of Glory. But I was often obliged to stop ; and God understood my silence ; for it spoke better than words. And now I was all gratitude ; and my gratitude was so great that it made me miserable; and I was obliged to hide the tears that would come, and keep them in till night. But then, when I was in bed, and I thought of the dangers we had gone through, I let my tears flow freely ; for I knew not how to thank God, but I thought that these tears were the best prayers of praise that I could offer to Him. And for three days, I had to go and hide them and to keep them back ; but at night they came again for two hours, till at last I fell asleep. I had such a delightful feeling as I drank in the beautiful scenery and felt the sun so warm ; I could not work or read or do anything but look and look and drink it all in. "And then came Christmas Day. I woke up and heard the bells. Oh, how beautiful they were ! Not solemn, but so full of joy ! It was daybreak ; and all was quiet and harmonious like those bells. But I could not enjoy them properly, nor Christmas Day, nor the Hymn, for I had been angry the day before, and all my nice feeling was gone, and I have not been right since ; for I have A NEW LOCATION. 47 not been to Confession, and I have been very bad. But last night I prepared myself, and it is again a beautiful day, and I have been reading ; and I feel rather better. I want to feel nice agfain, but I can't quite yet. The hills in front are all covered with a blue haze, and it is lovely." That is all, reader. Was it not worth copying out ? It has done us both good. Yes ; those Lisbon bells were very sweet. We had been delighted first to hear them on the night before, on Christmas-eve. The thermo- meter stood at 64 as we went out to go to mid- night mass. It was a bright starlight night. Suddenly, a slight cloud suffused the sky, and a little shower of rain fell while the stars shone on, visible through the transparent veil. Who could not but remember the words of the Psalmist : — " Rorate coeli desuper et nubes pluant justum, Drop dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain down the just one"? We went into the church. A partition divided the great door and was carried do\vn the nave. It parted the women on one side from the men on the other side of the church. All was a blaze of light. The music was soft and harmonious as the bells. There was no braying serpent from French cathe- 48 A NEW LOCATION. drals ; there were no noisy fiddles and violon- cellos from Italian sacred choirs. The music was sweet and devotional. Two days afterwards, we moved into our new house, No. 44, Ptua da Sacramento da Lapa, Buenos Ayres ; having paid our bill at the Hotel of Bragan9a — one hundred and eighty-two thou- sand nine hundred and thirty reis ; — so they please to keep their accounts in Portugal, in a nommal coin which does not exist, and of which about 4500 go to the pound sterling ; so that the apparently awful amount of my bill reduced itself to little more than forty pounds, — not an exor- bitant charge for carriage-hire, board, lodging, service, and horse-keep during ten days for our- selves and five children, four servants and one horse — the survivor of the P. and 0. Company's neglect. CHAPTER VI. SOCIETY AT LISBON. A celebrated traveller. — The Royal Family. — Presentation at Court. — The King, Don Pedro. — Court Receptions.— Toilettes. — The Duke of Terceira. — The Saxe Coburgs. — The English Legation. — The Papal Nunzio. — A bull- fight. — The ships at anchor. — Mourning ceremonial. The Jornal do Commercio — which was then the leadmg journal of Lisbon — pubhshed the following paragraph in its number of 27 December, 1856 : — ■ " Viajante celebre. — Chegou a Lisboa, e acha-se hospedado no hotel de Braganga o celebre viajante inglez Mr. Beste, o qual com a sua familia tem j)ercorrido a major parte da Europa e da America. "Mr. Beste e author de algumas obras religiosas; e sao tambem suas as Recollections of Rome, Wabash ou aventuras de um inglez e sua familia no interior da America, obras muito apreciadas na Gran Bretanha. " Mr. Beste tenciona na proxima primavera fazer uma digressao pelo faiz. Parece que viajara na sua propria carroagem com(3 sempre costuma." — 50 SOCIETY AT LISBON. "Celebrated traveller. There has arrived at Lisbon and lodged himself at the Hotel Braganya the celebrated English traveller Mr. Beste, who, with his family, has visited the greater part of Europe and America. Mr. Beste is the author of some religious works, and also of the Recollections of Rome, Wabash, or Adventures of an English Family in the Interior of America ; works that are much appreciated in Great Britain. Mr. Beste intends next spring to make a digression through the country. It appears that he will travel in his own carriage, as he is always in the habit of doing," Now all this was very flattering, notwith- standing its absurdity. Notwithstanding the ab- surdity of supposing that I should have carried my family to Portugal for the purpose of xdsiting the country, and that I intended to travel in my own carriage through provinces in which there are no roads, it was very flattering. Whence the learned editor could have had his information about me, I could not guess. English famflies, as I have said, seldom land at Lisbon ; a stray arrival, therefore, created the more sensation. I fomid everybody very civil. Wlifle waiting in the ante- room of the Minister of Finance to get permission SOCIETY AT LISBON. 51 to land my carriage, I had made acquaintance with the Conde de Sobral, Civil Governor of Lisbon, with all the members of whose family we had afterwards the pleasure of being intimate ; the Prime Minister, Marquis Loul^ (who had married the aunt of the king) was prompted, by the Por- tuguese innate spirit of politeness, to call upon me two or three days after my arrival ; and, as I have before-mentioned, I experienced from our English minister and consul all those attentions which all diplomatists, when they are not ashamed of their country, pay to the countrymen whom they repre- sent. In a very short time, we were acquainted Avith most of the society of Lisbon ; and we as soon learned to consider it one of the pleasantest with which we had ever mingled. Let me here give a general idea of this society, — respecting the privacy of individuals, as in duty bound. The present King of Portugal, Don Pedro V, was born in 1837. His mother, D. Maria da Gloria, had died in 1853, leaving her second husband, Don Ferdinando (of Saxe-Gotha), regent of the kingdom during Don Pedro's minority. This had ended in September 1855 : so that His Majesty was now liut little more than nineteen years of age, and had been king only fifteen 52 SOCIETY AT LISBON. months. His father, Re Fernando, as he was always called, was but forty years of age ; and was generally reported to be as fond of pleasure as his son was of study ; and to be in the habit of calling that son Padre Pedro. He seemed, how- ever, to be well-liked in popular estimation, and, as regent, had given much satisfaction. There were other younger brothers and sisters of the king. On the morning of the 4th of the new year 1857, we received a note from Mrs. Howard, who told us that the Legation had just been mformed that the first royal reception was to take place that evening ; and that, in order to be able to attend it, we must be presented that very morning : the world had not then imagined the royal court balls of Florence, to which thousands were to be invited who had never been presented to the sovereign. My wife put on her best morning dress and bonnet ; and I donned my English deputy-lieutenant's uniform ; and we drove at about midday to the Palace das Necessidades. The situation of this palace, on the heights of Buenos Ayres, is very beautiful. Its windows, like those of our own house, overlooked the spreadmg Tagus, (usually, and even now, charged SOCIETY AT LISBON. 53 with seven or eight EngHsh ships of war) and the vme-covered hills beyond. This royal residence, this "palace of want", received its curious name from a small chapel built and dedicated in former ages by some pious people who had escajDed a dreadful pestilence, to the Blessed Virgin, who had prayed for them in their necessities — in their wants. One of the kings, the magnificent Don John Y, believed himself to have been dehvered from a dangerous ilhiess by her prayers, which had been invoked for hun in this chaj)el ; and, in retiu-n, purchased all the land about the little sanctuary, enlarged it, and enclosed it within the palace which he built on the spot ; and which, from its vicmity to Lisbon, is the most convenient and usual residence of the royal family. On our road, we called for Mr. and Mrs. Howard, whose residence was between our own and the palace ; and proceeded thither together. We went up a very handsome staircase, and were shown into a drawing-room hung with satin damask, and where gilt chairs, covered to match, were placed formaDy agamst the walls. Here we chatted together for some time ; and, at last, began to be rather tired of standing, and impatient for the arrival of the sovereign. A door opened, and King Fernando, 54 SOCIETY AT LISBON. his father, tripped lightly into the room ; a slim, tall, graceful man, with a handsome face and very black, long, pointed beard. We were presented to him ; and he began talking pleasantly with the two ladies, when his son, Don Pedro, came in from another door. He advanced more staidly towards us, and we were presented -^vith somewhat more formahty. The king was a good-looking, tall young man, dressed in a military uniform, but evidently very shy. As he conversed, he leaned upon liis sword heavily, and spoke very slowly and without animation or change of features ; the usual expression of which seemed to be a sadness strange m one so young. He addressed us in English ; and I afterwards found that he insisted upon speaking their o^ai native language to each one whom he addressed. He said to us one or two of the stereotyped phrases usual to sovereigns, asking how we liked Lisbon ; and when I lamiched out, rather more than coiutly etiquette justified, in its praises, and remarked on the number of new buildings in coiu"se of erection in every street, and on the many improvements that were being made in the town, he answered, with an arch smile, "It is time !" He then asked me if I had seen the Bay of Naples, and whether I noted the resem- SOCIETY AT LISBON. 55 blance which others told him existed between it and the Tagus at Lisbon. Not all my wish to please and compHment the young sovereign could lead me to flatter so far his beautiful capital; — beautiful, but still not to be compared to that "bit of heaven dropped down upon the earth." The conversation was contmued somewhile longer ; and we were then graciously dismissed with an intimation that we should attend the first reception which took place that evening. At half after eight o'clock — such are the early hours for social gatherings in that pleasant capital — we agam found ourselves at the Palace das Necessitades. Our two eldest daughters, Lucy and Louie of the Wabash, the latter of whom Dr. Latham had sent to Lisbon for the mildness of its climate, accompanied us. Now a low dress, suited to a court reception, was not compatible with a di*ead of pulmonary complaint such as had induced a voyage to Lisbon. At the same time, I was unwillhig to ask for a dispensation which might be refused, and so deprive our child of a pleasure which might never offer itself to her again. We, therefore, dressed her in a white satin dress that fitted tightly to her slim figure and well-formed bust, and was completely closed u[) to her throat. TjT) SOCIETY AT LISBON. Lucy and my wife wore the usual proper evening dress. I knew that we were the only Enghsh family who had been, for many years, presented at the court of Lisbon — where those in commerce are not received ; — and I trusted that two pretty, elegant, English gMs would be greeted with pleasure, even although one of them shewed by her dress that we had paid Lisbon the compliment of seeking it for the sake of its climate. Five or six handsome drawing-rooms were opened, in one of which the ladies seated them- selves in a semicircle, with their backs to the wall. There might be about five-and-twenty present; and four times as many men stood about or conversed in that and the other rooms. The king came m and began addressmg the ladies in the circle, each of whom, of course, stood up as he approached her ; he said a few words to each : — pausing long, as is the usage of royal personages, between each phrase, and racking his brain for somethmg to say; which he did not always find. King Ferdinand followed him ; and when Don Pedro hesitated for too long a time, or some moie attractive lady was ahead, the father skipped past his son, with a disregard of all courtly etiquette, and went on to the other ladies SOCIETY AT LISBON. 5/ until his Majesty overtook him, when, of course, papa fell back. Don Luiz, Duke of Oporto, younger brother of the king, and destined ere long to succeed him, was also there and made his round — but more irregularly and without formality — sitting down and chatting with those ladies with whom he was most acquainted. He was a lively lad of eighteen ; dressed in a naval uniform, he had much the look and bearing of a merry EngHsh midshipman. When these royal personages had paid their compliments to the ladies, they addressed them- selves to such of the gentlemen present as they pleased to select for that honour, and stood about singly or in knots conversing during the rest of the evening. Ices and lemonades were carried round by servants in livery ; and so the evenmg passed in quiet and subdued conversation. Before retiring, the king went and kissed the hand of his father, Re Fernando, wishing him good night. We left with the others, and were home at half after eleven o'clock. Having now got what I wanted, having pre- sented our invalid daughter, my wife wrote to our friend, tlie Diiqueza de Ficalho, the Camareira 58 SOCIETY AT LISBON. Mor, and asked whether she might be permitted to bring her again in the same toilette, as she still feared to let her put on a low dress. The Duchess answered in French — the language of Portuguese society — ihs^t franchement the custom of the Court was that ladies should be decoUetees and wear short sleeves : but, she added, "you need have no uneasiness. His Majesty is very amiable, and has not said a single word." We, therefore, continued to take both our daughters whenever we attended these pleasant fortnightly recep- tions, which became more pleasant as we were better acquainted with the people ; and wliich could not but be interesting, as showing an entirely new society, with new subjects of thought and of conversation. The society of the Palace was, however, re- stricted by political considerations. The greater part of the noblesse of Lisbon were Miguellites : — adherents to Don Miguel, uncle of the present king, who, while regent for his niece, had abolished the constitution, declared himself king, and had maintained himself in civil war until he w^as finally driven out of the country, and the authority of Queen Donna Maiia was restored by the Duke of Tei'ceira and Sir Charles Napier in .SOC'irCTY AT J.LSBON. 59 1834. This personage, however, was still living; and the greater number of the gentry refused to recognise the reigning sovereign, and secluded themselves from Court and from all society, ex- cepting small and comparatively-private reunions amongst themselves. A few evenings after our first reception at the palace, we were at a small party at the brave Mar- shall Duke of Terceira's, who, by leading a couple of thousand men by forced marches on Lisbon, had obtained possession of the capital and put an end to the civil war. Pleasant, kind old man ! After a long experience of many lands, memory knows not where to find one on intercourse with whom it lingers more agreeably than on this gentlemanly soldier and on his beautiful and elegant Duchess. The only sad thing at this first party at then* house was to see what I often observed afterwards in other societies : — . to see Marquis Louie, president of the Council, on one side of the room, and his wife, the In- fanta Donna Anna, on the opposite side ; while their daughter passed from one to the other, kissmg each parent and affectionate with both, who had no other intercourse than throup'h her. At this party, the Duke of Oporto and King CO SOCIETY AT LISBON. Don Fernando were also present; and the latter sang to the accompaniment of the piano. He sang well and artistically ; and I afterwards found that he was a first-rate musician, and a draughts- man of no small abUity. Curious that these Saxe-Coburgs should be so frequently accom- plished and sensible men — so far beyond the average of princes ! Common sense, moderation, and accomphshments w^ould seem to be what the French call their specialite ; and how convenient, too, that there should be a Cathohc and a Pro- testant branch of the same house, so that they can supply husbands to either CathoHc or Pro- testant queens in search of such ! We also met the same royal father and son at a grand ball given by Marquez de Fronteira at then* Quinta (or villa) at Bemfica, about four miles from Lisbon. A very interesting old house was this residence m which they most dehghted. One or two of the rooms were lined, to the height of about five feet from the floor, with blue porcelam tiles, on which were represented, in bas-relief, the warlike feats of the Conde della Torre, one of the ancestors of this old family, who was a distmguished leadei- in the wars both agauist the S})aniards and the Moors. SOCIETY AT LISBON. Gl Most of these right noble families of Portugal can show more to be proLid of in the deeds of their ancestors than illustrates the descent of all the other grandees of Europe put together: as Portugal so long owed its independent exist- ence to the heroic deeds of its small but chival- rous population. But the grandest fete of the whiter, from the sumptuousness of its preparations and the num- ber of its guests, was a ball given by the Mar- quez de Vianna in his splendid mansion. It seemed a curious contrast that, at this ball, our host and hostess asked us to be present at a private celebration in their beautiful chapel, in thanksgiving that they and all their family had escaped the cholera which had scourged the city not long before. Then there was the Corps Diplomatique at Lisbon, which contributed its share to the amuse- ment of society. Mrs. O'Sullivan, wife of the American mmister, gave some dances and a grand fancy ball. Mrs. Howard gave several pleasant parties and dances ; and insisted, con- trary to the advice of Portuguese friends, on giving a ball at mid-lent; which ball the said Portuguese ladies refused to attend, as being 02 SOCIETY AT LISBON. offensive to their religious habits; and Mrs. Howard was, consequently, much annoyed. But our minister, Mr. Howard, an English Catholic, had married a German Protestant, and this lady's piety and the habits of the country to which her husband was accredited, were often in oppo- sition. Thus I remember meeting her Catholic husband one day at the American minister's, when he said to the latter — " Why have you put out your flag ? Is to- day anything particular ?" (Nota bene. — At Lisbon it is customary for all pubHc buildings, Government offices, and foreign legations to be imhandierate, or decked with flags, on the days of the principal saints and festivals of the Church.) " Do not you know," answered Mr. O'Sullivan, " that it is one of your Church festivals ? I always pay the country the compliment of hang- ing out the stars and stripes when they put out their flags. To fail in such an act of courtesy, displeases them." " Ah, yes ; but I leave those matters to Mrs. Howard," answered our English minister. The system by whicli England appomts its re- presentatives is different from that which obtains SOCIETY AT LISBON. 63 in other countries ; and I do not think the result is very satisfactory: it is still less so when, as often happens, the round man is put mto the square hole. Next door to our house at Buenos Ayres, was the residence of the Papal Nuncio, Di Pietra, who was made a cardinal for his services in this mission. It was a great pleasure to become acquainted with this most able statesman of the Sacred College, and we were able to attend the offices of the Church more conveniently in his private chapel than in the rather ill-served parish churches of the town. On taking leave of him after a dinner party, I w^as surprised to hear from his Eminence that his carriage was waiting to carry him four miles into the comitry. He only came into Lisbon for business and the duties of his station. There was also a Club Lisbonense and an Assemblea Portugueza, which gave periodical dances during the winter. These were not only frequented by the nobles of the court, but it was a pleasure to meet there the principal merchants of Portugal with their families, and such a large sprinkling of English Naval officers that the chatter of the middies with their G4 SOCIETY AT LISBON. dancing partners, the pretty daughters of the EngHsh resident merchants, seemed to make oirrs the predominant language in the crowd. In short, there is more society in Lisbon than m any town I am acquainted with out of England ; and, unlike the Romans, whom I was accused of treatmg ungratefully (because, in the historical parts of my " Modern Society in Rome" I was obliged to mention the conduct of many during the Revolution which they would now wish to have forgotten) — ^unlike the Romans whom I am accused of "treating so ungratefully after all their hospitahty to me" — they dined and danced at my house — the Portuguese not only made a return of civilities, but gave parties to those from whom they could not expect to receive any equivalent. All knew that our house was ill-adapted to receptions ; but our English feelings urged us to do our best to show our sense of all the kindness we were receiving ; and we got the promise of the Terceiras, the Saldanhas, the Fronteiras, Sobrals, Ficalhos, De Majors, Mrs. Howard, and other friends, that they would kindly excuse our want of means, and grace our small reception rooms. Then appeared what I have noticed in every part of the Continent where society has been disrup- SOCIETY AT LLSBOX. 65 tured by political feuds : then appeared the wish of all parties to forget differences, to amalgamate and to meet on neutral ground. The house of an English traveller was necessarily such ; and the Lancastres and the Abrantes,* and several whom I had never met in general society and was not even acquainted with, did us the honour of de- siring to be introduced to us, that they might come to our little dance. Our girls were delighted. They were all three happy and pretty, and our little party went off to theu' hearts' content. The three were walking on the next afternoon, with then- two little brothers and the nursemaid, in the garden of the Estrella, which lay at no great distance from our Rua da Lapa, and which will be a delightful pleasure gromid when the shrubs are grown into trees. Here they were joined by Kmg Fernando, w4io seemed to be listlessly sauntering about. " So you had a dance at your house last night," said his Majesty. " Why was not I invited ?" he asked good-naturedly. " Papa and mama could not take such a liberty." * Not? Napoleon's hero — General Junot — but the ancient noble family of Portugal, whose title it was very silly and very bad taste to assume. (;(*) SOCIETY AT IJSBON. "Not at all. I do not see why I am to be ex- cluded from a pleasant party. Tell them that if they give another, I shall come. But why, young ladies, are you not at the bull-fight that is being held at the Praca dos Tauros ?" "We had no wish to see such cruel sports," answered Lucy. " Quite right," said the King. *' No one with a good heart can enjoy such sights. My little girls are gone. I wish people w^ould not take them there. We have no such amusements in Ger- many," " This country must be very different," said one of my daughters. " Does not your Majesty ever wish to see your own ?" " Not in the least," replied Re Fernando, laughing. " I am very well satisfied to be here. Wlien I remember the frost and the snow of North Germany, I am very well satisfied to be where I am." I had gone to see this bull-fight, the first of the season, as being a national amusement which so celebrated a traveller and descriptive writer as the Joimal do Commercio had proclaimed me to be, was bound to make himself acquainted with. A very large wooden cu^cus, containing several SOCIETY AT LISBON. 67 tiers of seats, was crowded with an eager popula- tion of sight-seers. Tlie more humanised character of the Portuguese had caused them to abohsh, nearly a century ago, the style of bull-fight still practised in Spain, and occasionally in France to gratify the gentle propensities of the Empress Eugenie. On this occasion, therefore, no bulls were slain, no horses were disembowelled. A modified cruelty only was perpetrated for the de- light of the Portuguese. Fifteen bulls, of no un- usual size, were driven in succession into the cu-cus. A number of performers, dressed in old Spanish attire, were there to receive them. And when the brute, dazzled on leaving a dark stable, by the sudden glare and the shouts of the spec- tators, stared wildly around him, these gentlefolks danced about and waved small red flags in their hands, till the bull, u'ritated, made a rush at some one of them. The performer awaited until the horns were lowered to gore, then threw the red flag over them and the eyes of the animal, and with one hand, or, if he were clever, with both hands, threw or stuck one or two little javelins, bearing a tiny flag, into the skin behind the bull's ears. The latter of course threw up its head on feeliiig tlie puncture, and the campino 68 SOCIETY AT LISBON. skipped liglitly aside. Another and another suc- ceeded him, till the poor bullock bore a dozen or twenty of these little javelins about its neck, which, only piercing the skin, hung there by their barbed point, but inflicted no great wound. At length, the bull generally found out that every rush he made at his adversaries only drew upon himself another dart and refused to attack any more. A number of cows with bells were then driven into the arena, with which the tired bull trotted quietly off. The darts were then drawn out and the wounds healed. By way of variety, and to " arouse a tame or cowardly bull, one or two negroes occasionally entered the arena with feathers about their heads, like African chieftains, and seated themselves upon a chair, or got behind pasteboard horses, and cajoled the bull till he made a rush to toss them, but entangled his horns on the rungs of the chair, so that all were tumbled over together. This seemed to be considered great sport, perhaps be- cause there was no small danger of injury to the poor blacks ! Such are the spring and summer amusements of the people at Lisbon. I did not go twice to the circus ; but enjoyed better the society of our kind SOCIETY AT LISBON. 69 friends without the mtervention of bulls or l)lacks. In truth, we were very much pleased with the Poi-tuguese of all classes ; with the frank kindness with which we were welcomed by the society of the city ; with the civil and civUised bearmg of the people. I never heard an oath from a Portuguese durmg the five months we lived in Portugal. I once saw a prisoner escorted by the poKce, pause, with their permission, at a tobacco- nist's ; he there bought himself a supply of snuff, which he pohtely handed round to his escort. There were also Enghsh and foreign men of war always in the Tagus ; and the mornmg was occa- sionally pleasantly passed on board one or other of these. I remember that the religious feelings which Christmas eve had aroused withm us, as I have stated, were, however, rudely shocked by the first visit I paid on board the Ccesar, two days afterwards. The funeral of a marine was being: performed in the fleet — of a marme who had died of overdrink, taken m on Christmas eve. I remarked a curious escort which always at- tended these English ships — ^flights of sea-gulls skunmed the Tagus all around them. The birds were picking up the stray victual thrown over by the crew. Our people were very proud of these 70 SOCIETY AT LISBON. flights of biixls, and bade me remark that none were seen aromid a more parsunonious frigate bearingf the flag; of France. As one who had to pay towards the support of our sailors, I could not jom in the admiration of waste which delighted those who lived upon the taxes. The Portuguese in then* habits and manners are more English than the people of any other country on the continent. They drink more tea. Morning and evening, the tea-things are brought in, and few Portuguese ladies do not like a cup of tea also about four o'clock. I regret, however, to have to state that the manner in which the last days of carnival were kept, was, and is, if there has been no change, a disgrace to a civilised town ; though I vamly endeavom^ed to persuade my good friend the Conde de Sobrel, governor of the city, to thmk of the practice as I did. Rotten eggs, lune, every filth was throwai from the wmdows on whoever or whatever passed through the streets below. Here was no fun, no froHc ; a few ^vretched masks alone ventured out : all decently di'essed people were afraid of showing themselves ; and, contrary to the rules of their own j^olice, which the governor SOCIETY AT LISBON. 71 would not enforce, tlie whole town was given up to license and filth. Turn we to a sadder scene. A member of one of the first families of Lisbon had died, and had been carried to that most beautiful cemetery, the groimd of which was formerly known by the ap- propriate name of the Alto dos Prazeres — the heights of pleasure. The relatives had not ac- companied the departed one ; they remain at home to receive the condolence of friends. For eight days, they sit in a room so dark that persons can scarcely be recognised therein. One of them acts as chief mourner, and to him all visitors bend their sympathising steps ; to him they bow ; then seat themselves in the lugubrious circle in solemn silence for a few minutes. Not one word is spoken. The room, in the instance to which I refer, is per- haps unusually darkened ; certam it is that the sky is very bright. And our English mmister may well be unable to distinguish anything as lie steps hesitatingly into the mournful atmosphere. He cannot distmguish any one around the circle of mournmg relatives ; but a large china vase, standing in one corner of the drawing-room, is dimly perceptible through the gloom — that must be the chief mourner. He walks up to it. With 72 SOCIETY AT LISBON, all the gravity of a diplomatist, lie makes it a low bow, and then gropes his way, without speaking, to a chau\ No one speaks. Our minister knows the usages of society. He also sits in silence for as long a time as etiquette requires. He then rises, turns once more to the china vase, makes it another bow more expressive of sympathising grief than even the first had been, and then gently and slowly retu-es. The circle of mourners could not quite preserve their gravity. " How could you ask me to come and dine in your house to-day ?" said the lively Condessa de A — to us, after a friendly dmner. " You should know it was as bad as telhng the English admkal, as I heard you do this morning, that the house belonged to Mr. Jones." " But so it does. What should I have said ?" I asked. " You should have told him the house was his own." " His own ? But it belongs to the other people, and I rent it." "That makes no difference," she said. "In Portugal, you must always make a present of your house to the person you are speaking to at the time. If we were not m the habit of speaking SOCIETY AT LISBON. 73 French to you, into which we cannot naturally turn our Portuguese politeness, you would have noticed that we always give you our house. Please to walk in — a casa e sua — the house is yours." " Just as we, in England, beg friends to make themselves at home !" I exclaimed. " I suppose so !" said the Condessa. " But we go further. In writing a letter we date it — Desta sua casa — from this your house !" " Said I not rightly that you are the pleasantest and the most polite people in the world ?" CHAPTER VII. THE KING OF PORTUGAL. The House of Peers. — The Cholera. — Seclusion of Lisbon. On the 2nd of January, with tickets to reserved places, with which we were favoiu^ed, we witnessed the opening of his Parhament by Don Pedro, the King. We were placed in a comfortable gallery overlooking a handsome but rather small hall m the suppressed convent of St. Bento. A satirical Portuguese writer w^ill not take upon himself to decide whether the useless monks have more useful successors in the Cortes or not. Gradually the hall filled itself with the " Dignos Pares do Remo e Senores Deputados da Na9ao Portugueza." The worthy peers of the kingdom, as they are called, are in number one hundred and nineteen, including the Cardinal Archbishop of Lisbon, and the Car- dinal Patriarch, w^ho is hereditary President of the THE KING OF I'OILTUGAL. /O House. These Peers are appointed by the Sove- reign and their rank is hereditary, as in England. Not, however, as in England, have all of them titles. A title is not necessary to a seat in the House of Peers ; and many Portuguese have titles who are not peers. Thus, although there are scarcely one hundred titles in this House of Lords, there are, in all Portugal, seven Dukes, twenty-one Marquesses, seventy-eight Counts, twenty-three Viscounts, and fourteen Barons {com grandeza or grandees), and upwards of one hundred and fifty Viscounts and Barons without gixtndeza. Among these latter are Sir Isaac Goldsmid of London and Dr. Kessler, M.D. to King Fernando ; so that, I presume, they correspond with the honoured class of civil knighthood in England. The oldest crea- tion of the former class dates from the fifteenth century ; of the latter class, all but two are of the nineteenth. The young King entered, supported by general officers and other Peers of the kingdom. There was the elegant figure of old Marshal Duke of T erceira ; the portly and frank bearing of Marshal Duke Saldanha. There were our friends, Marquis Fronteira and Louie and Ficalho — all men above the middle height, all of fine and n(^ble carriage ; 76 THE KING OF P0RTUC4AL. indeed, the personal appearance of the gentlemen now assembling beneath our gallery, struck us as being unusually distinguished. Most of them wei'e of middle age or beyond ; scarcely a young man was amongst them except the King himself, whom they appeared to surround with a fatherly coiu'- tesy. He ascended his modest throne and, in a sensible and well-toned voice, read rather' a long speech. But his Majesty had much to say. His country had been afflicted since the last session by a fearful visitation of cholera. He did not allude to the noble manner in which he himself had more than performed his duty : — a lad of nineteen, he had not fled to the cool retreats of Cintra or Mafra when his capital was desolated by the pestilence. He had stayed at Lisbon to encourage his people ; he had almost lived m the hospitals ; he had sup- ported in his own arms more than one poor wretch dying there of what was generally believed to be a contagious malady ; he had awakened afresh the d}dng memory of a soldier of his own regiment whom he found in one of the wards ; he had made the poor fellow recollect him, and by speaking words of comfort and promising to the sick man, and that he would again soon be mountmg guard THE KING OF PORTUGAL. 77 under the palace windows, he had so cheered hhn up that the invaHd had battled successfully with the fell disease, and had, indeed, again stood sentry, within a short time, upon the beautiful esplanade. All honour to Don Pedro the Fifth ! His father called him Padre Pedro, and he was used to write political disquisitions and to submit them to the opinion of our own Prmce Consort ; it is also true that, when he had visited London, and been obliged, in the fraternity of sovereigns, to kiss his sister Victoria, he had blushed so deeply that our Queen, turning aside, had laughed at his modesty, for that he was not used to kiss women. All this may be — nay, is true : but he was a brave, a good young man, and won the love of his people, and honoured the crown he wore. In his speech at the opening of his parliament, he deplored, therefore, the sufferings which the cholera had inflicted upon the kingdom, and bore grateful testimony to the sympathy and assistance which had been afforded by other countries, and particularly by England. He called upon the legis- lature to promote the cause of public instruction ; to extend railroads, and to make highways through the land. Hitherto the Portuguese had always objected to this, because they would facilitate the 78 THE KINO OF PORTUGAL. incursions of their mortal and hated foes, the Spaniards ; but now the Kmg even asked for a railroad to unite Lisbon with the frontiers of Spain ; and, at Mr. Howard's dinner table, I had met Sir Morton Peto, who had come over to pro- mote such objects. I could never understand the complaints against the seclusion of Lisbon, which I constantly beard from the members of the diplomatic corps. They complained that they were quite segregated from Europe ; and our own minister even declared that Rio Janeiro, from whence he had come, was more in the world. It is true that the land post through Spain did little for us ; and that all our foreigTi intelligence w^as to be w^aited for till the packets arrived from Southampton ; but I know not how or why, I was satisfied. Perhaps it was some- thinof in the Lisbon air that calmed me to content. CHAPTER VIII. ECCLESIASTICAL. The Clergy of Lisbon. — St. Vincent and the Ravens. — Scandals. — Religious Observances. — Procession of the Passion. — Churches. — St. Roque. — English Nuns and Sion House. — The Estella. — Penha de rran9a. — Theo- logy below stairs. — Mr. Murray and the Wondrous Lizard. — Belem. — My Butler, Stevens. — The Rector of West End. Murray's Handbook tells the new-comer to Lisbon that he will be struck by the great number of soldiers and the total absence of clergy, until he finds out that the gentlemen dressed in blue frock coats, tight pantaloons, and Hessian boots, are priests, and that such is the ecclesiastical dress of Portugal. Be it so. Lliahit ne fait pas le 711017) e, and one dress is as good as another when people are used to it. Monks, however, in the dresses of their different orders are no longer to be seen. Monasteries have been suppressed ; church property has been seized ; tythes have been abolislied, and a small stipend has been granted by the state for the support of 80 ECCLESIASTICAL. its clergy. When states learn that they have nothmg to do mth either appointing or supporting clergy, the latter will be selected for their spiritual worth, and will be more decorously maintained by those who wish for their services. I know not what good service the rector of our parish had done to the state for which he had been rewarded with that benefice ; but during the time of the cholera, he was said to have fled to the country, and none had cared for his parishioners except a poor Capuchin monk of a suppressed convent, who had dedicated himself to them, and who, tliis year also, in Hessian boots, fulfilled all those duties which should have been performed by the rector. I was taken to visit the Cardinal Patriarch of Lisbon, President, by ofiice, of the House of Peers — a weak old man, without energy or courage to stand up for what he beheved to be right. The cathedral itself is a heavy gloomy building with no architectural beauty, or historical interest. In the chapel of St. Vincent are the relics of that saint, and in the cloisters two ravens are always kept. They reminded me of the owls m the old tower of Arundel Castle. It is, however, requisite that I explain the connexion between the ravens and the body of the saint. ECCLESIASTICAL. 81 In the fourth century, Vincent, a Catholic Christian, was put to death, after cruel torments, by the Roman governor of Dacia because he refused to disown the Christ and to sacrifice to the pagan gods ; and his lifeless body was ordered to be ex- posed to the beasts and birds of the woods, but was protected from them by two ravens. So says the legend ; and those who believe that a raven regularly carried food to a prophet under the im- perfect Dispensation, can have no difficulty in be- lieving that ravens cared for the body of a witness to the more Perfect Law. His body was, however, revered for eight hundred years by the Chris- tians of Algarve, and gave its name to a Cape which Englishmen of our day delight to honour. When the heroic Affonso Henriquez had gained his great battle of Ourique in that neighbourhood, and, with the death of 200,000 Moors, had con- quered Lisbon and driven the valiant infidels out of the kingdom, he brought the body of S. Vincent to his capital, and built this cathedral over its tomb : — by the bye, an Englishman named Gilbert was named first bishop to the see — one that had accompanied a body of Crusaders, whose fleet had entered the Tagus during the siege of Lisbon, and who had gallantly aided the brave AfFonso. 82 ECCLESIASTICAL. Two ravens are said to have accompanied the vessel that bore S. Vincent's body ; and in commemora- tion of the event, a ship and two ravens were adopted as the arms of the city ; and ravens have been always kept in a courtyard of the cathedral. All these are pleasing, praiseworthy, or, at least, innocent memorials of the past. Not so, to my mind, were some of the adjuncts of the cathedral. Not so, for example, was the convent of S. Vincent, founded exclusively for monks of noble families, who were forbidden to demean themselves by going out on foot ; their profession of humility requiring to be exemplified by carriage equipages. Not so, either, was a chapel in the cathedral set apart as the burial-place of the bastards of suc- cessive sovereigns : — too royal to be buried with other men, and not royal enough to sleep witli their fathers ! No wonder an avenging Providence should punish such a system by revolutions in church and state ! What an intolerable place of oppres- sion and infamy this world would be if it were not for occasional revolutions ! In the refectory of this suppressed convent, are the tombs, or sarcophagi, of the royal family. Methought a curious place of entombment ! The ECCLESIASTICAL. 83 coffin of the late queen was of enormous propor- tions. Here, too, was the coffin of a princess more recently deceased, and which was covered with flowers and garlands. Ci-git, hie jacet : this the in- scriptions on all proclaimed : no recognition of any religions opinion ! And yet the churches in Lisbon are well fre- quented, particularly that of the English college, where, in conformity with the English bump of veneration possessed by no foreigners, the services are decorously performed. Here are seats or benches as in England. In all the other churches, the women kneel on the mat-covered floor, or rather kneel on it and sit upon their own heels ; while the men stand on the opposite side of the nave. Before Holy week, also, a couple of old confessionals are brought into every church from some lumber-room ; are dusted and cleaned of cobwebs, and placed on each side of the altar rails. Around these, the j^enitents congregate, and pro- claim their sins to the priest, who sits thus coram jwpulo. I have described the Lisbonites as an innocent-minded people; and this habit of bringing out their confessionals only once a year should prove them to be so. This for the lower orders ; we presume that the 84 ECCLESIASTICAL. gentry confess more privately. For these, we had had the Procession of the Passion, in which a figure, quite as large as life, was carried through the streets by the noblest in the land. It was the privilege of the Duchess Terceira and another great lady to provide the robe and to clothe this bleed- ing representation of the Christ as taken from the Cross. The highest grandees, dressed in full uni- form, and preceded by bands of music, carried it on their shoulders ; the most courtly ladies in mournmgf and in lonoc black veils followed behind ; and some more devout, amongst whom I knew two of the noblest and most pious in the land, concealed their humility and their penance and their bare feet, bleeding with the gravel of the streets, by walking even under the stage on which the figure reclined. On Maundy Thursday, when the consecrated Host is placed on an illuminated altar m each church to aw^ait the service of Good Friday, the whole population of Lisbon seems to turn out into the streets, and to visit, in a devotional spirit, the different churches. No carriage of any description is allowed to circulate ; and, indeed, so thick is the crowd that it could not do so without danger to thousands. ECCLESIASTICAL. 85 On Holy Saturday we were taken hy friends to a piivate gallery in the handsome church of S. Nicholas. This we found in almost total dark- ness. The church was quite full, and Mass was being celebrated. Suddenly, when the ^Driest sang the words of the Credo, " He rose agam from the dead," the curtams were all drawn up, and biilliant leaves and flowers were showered from the ceiling on the congregation below ; little birds were thrown out of their cages and flew about ; and a biu-st of music, together with a flood of light, represented the joy of mankind for the resurrection of the Saviour. All this was very pretty and innocent, if it helped the devotion of those who witnessed it. The devotion of all was, however, always unmis- takably shown whenever and wherever the Blessed Sacrament was carried through the streets to com- municate some dying Christian. So soon as the tinklmg of the small bell, carried before the priest, announced the approach of the humble procession, lights appeared at every window, while the in- mates knelt beside them. Not long ago, the audience at the great theatre S. Carlos caught a sound of the little passing bell, and calling to the 8G ECCLESIASTICAL. actors to Inish the performance, all rose and tm"ned towards the door as the Viaticum passed by. As this chapter treats of religion and chiu^ches^ visit we three or four of the more remarkable of the latter. Here are none of architectural magnificence ; but several have something remark- able about them. The church of St. Koque, for example, plain m every other respect, contains within it the richest chapel in the whole world. Kmg John V, called the Magnanimous, and who seems to have had more wealth than wit, visited this church early in the last century, and, observing that all the chapels in the church were handsomely adorned by the confraternities to which they belonged, while that dedicated to St. Jolin Baptist was m its original simplicity, as belongmg to no particular society, declared that St. John the Baptist was his own patron, and that he himself would embellish this chapel. The dimensions of the chapel were sent to Rome with orders to case and adorn the enclosed space with all that splendour, art, and wealth could combine. This was done, and the little shrine was put up in St. Peter's, where Pope Benedict the XIV consecrated and said Mass in it. The priest is allowed to live by the altar ; and ECCLE.SIASTICAL. 87 tlie Pope did not scruple to accept n million of ci'owns which the sovereign sent him m pay- ment for the Mass he had said. The chapel was taken to pieces, brought to Lisbon, and put together again m this place. Who shall describe its gorgeousness ? The outer facmg of the prmcipal arch is of coral. The arch itself is of alabaster. The pavement is mosaic and porphyry. The walls are of marble panels around mosaic pictures, so beautiful that it is difficult to believe they are not paintings. The doorposts and cornices are of wood and gialloantico and jasper. The roof is supported by eight columns of lapis-lazzuli, w4th bases of alabaster and ame- thysts, and capitals of bronze. The rails in front of the altar are of verde antique ; the altar itself is of jasper mth a frontal of lapis- lazzuli bordered with amethysts. Here are three beautifully w^rought lamps of solid silver, and two massive candlesticks, ten feet high, each of wliich cost 75,000 crowns. In fact, our friend Vasconcellos, who is the honorary keeper of the keys of this chapel, and, indeed, all Portuguese, in the present comparative poverty of theu' country, seem proud to tell what wealth they formerly had to squander away, and that this 88 ECCLESIASTICAL. chapel cost 14,000,000 crusados, or about one million and a half sterhng. When the French held Lisbon, they had planned to remove this chapel and its contents to Paris ; but their own removal from Portugal prevented the completion of the project. In the church near this chapel, is the tomb of Su' Francis Trajean, an Englishman, with whom Queen Elizabeth is said to have fallen desperately m love. As he resisted her advances, she confis- cated his property and imprisoned him for being a catholic. After twenty-eight years, he escaped, and fled to Lisbon, where, the inscription tells us, he died in the odour of sanctity, and that his body, found incorrupt after many years, was re- moved to this spot by his countrymen. The in- corrupt state of a body is certainly no proof of sanctity ; but, if it were not unusual, it w^ould not have been remarked upon by those who moved it. An Irish traveller translated the beginning of this epitaph : — " Aqui esta em pe — Here lies standing up. Other curious Enoiish reminiscences are aroused by a Brigittine convent of English nuns, near Sao Bento. These ladies are the successors of those who formerly possessed Sion House, which, smce ECCLESIASTICAL. 89 the dissolution of our monasteries, passed into the hands of tlie Duke of Northumberland. The sisterhood wandered from country to country, till, more than two centuries ago, they settled at Lisbon. They were visited here by a late Duke of Northumberland, and showed his grace the origmal keys of Sion House, which they had carried away with them in token of their contmued claim to the property. What a history they tell of the avenging fate that overtook the first possessors of the property of these poor nuns ! Henry VIII kept it for him- self, and Catherine Howard was confined here for three months before she went to the scafibld. Henry's body lay in state here ; and here the dogs licked his blood. Edward VI gave the place to the Duke of Somerset, who died on the scafibld, and it reverted to the crown. John Dudley, Earl of Northumberland, next held it ; and here Lady Jane Grey was persuaded to accept her luckless crown. Then, for a short while, the nuns were reinstated ; and then James I again granted it to Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, He was suspected of being implicated in the gunpowder plot, and adjudged to be imprisoned for life, and to pay a fine of £'30,000. He oftered Sion House 90 ECCLESIASTICAL. in lieu of the fine, but it was refused ; though, after fifteen years imprisonment, £11,000 was accepted, and he Avas set at liberty. In the time of his son, it was used as a prison for the children of King Charles ; and his grandson, havmg died without male issue, his daughter, Lady Elizabeth Percy, inlierited Sion House, and was left a widow by the Earl of Ogle before she was fourteen. Her second husband was assassinated by a rival on the very day of their marriage ; and her third husband, the amiable Duke of Somerset, who left one of his daughters j£20,000 less than he gave to the others, because she had sat down one afternoon in the hall, in which he had gone to sleep — her third husband left only one son, m whom his fine be- came extinct. This abbreviation from Spehnan's History of Sacrilege does not give a pleasant idea of life in those days ! I have mentioned the Estrella Gardens, in which our children generally walked. The dome of the church and convent to which these formerly be- longed is handsome. It was founded in 1779 by Queen Maria, in fulfilment of a vow by which she sought to bear a son to the throne. It cost an enormous sum of money ; and the Portuguese charge against it the filth which, till lately, dis- ECCLESIASTICAL. 91 graced theii- city in the eyes of all strangers : tlie money, which had been destined for the drainage of Lisbon, was taken to build this church. But, to see the lovely scenery of Lisbon to the greatest advantage, you must climb the peaks of the same chain of hills to the eastward — peaks that are crowned by the churches of N. S. do Monte, N. S. da Graca, and N. S. da Penha di Franca. On the terrace of this last-named church, in parti- cular, pause and let your eyes drmk m the scenery beneath and around, with the assurance that, live they ever so long, they can nowhere, except per- haps at Naples and Constantinople, enjoy a pro- spect so glorious and beautiful. Beneath, on one side, is the city, bathed by the waters of the broad Tagus as it comes down from the Span- ish mountains, through the spreading Cova da Piedade and stretches away past Belem Castle to the broad Atlantic : on the other side are the pointed peaks of Cintra and the heights of Torres Vedras : the whole scenery is broken up and diversified more than any other equal space of ground — the city by the old heroic castle of S. George and the hills of Buenos Ayres and Estrella, and by gardens yellow with orange groves inter- spersed amongst them all : the country l)oth on 92 ECCLESIASTICAL. this and the other side of the Tagus diversified by cultivation and wastes, by villas and dark pine forests : — I know not if, apart from classical asso- ciations, anything in Naples is more beautiful. And be it remembered that the historic associations of modern Lusitania are far grander and more heroic than any classical dreams appertaining to Southern Italy. Little worth recording beyond the landscape beneath them is to be seen from these three churches. Murray will describe this little, and wiE show his own small wit by sneering at some very ugly and taudrily dressed figures in- tended to represent the Blessed Virgin — forgettmg that one very ugly and ill-painted likeness of his own relative, which he has so gorgeously framed, and which he looks at with such affection as it hangs over his own chimney-piece! An English- man once came to me at Lisbon with a complaint that my English butler had knocked him down. I inquired into the case, and then said to the complainant — " It seems you had been disputing about reli- gious matters ?" He assented. "If Stevens," I continued, " liad spoken of your ECCLESIASTICAL. 93 mother in tlie terms in which he says you spoke of the Blessed Virgin" "I would have knocked him down, sir!" ex- claimed the man. " Then perhaps you will forgive his having knocked you down because you spoke in such a manner of her whom you believe to be the mother of your Saviour." My complainant withdrew without another word. However, I do not approve of the knocking down argument ; and to prove that I bore no malice against poor Mr. Murray's author, I inquired for the wondrous lizard, which he tells us must be seen if we would not be laughed at by the Portu- guese as one " que foi a Penha e nao vio o lagarto — who had been at the Penha and had not seen the lizard." The sacristan smiled when I asked for the beast, and wondered why strangers in- quired for it. He showed us, in an ante-room, the figure of a small crocodile, or some such animal, about four feet long, which was dried and stuffed, and hanging to a hook in the wall. Mr. Murray says " a pilgrim on his way to pay his devotions here, slept by the road-side. A huge lizard ap- peared to devour him ; but by the timely appear- 94 ECCLESIASTICAL. ance of our Lady, the pilgrim awoke and the rep- tile was killed." The poor sacristan did not know so much about it. He had only heard that this church being peculiarly frequented by sailors, the captain of a vessel, in days gone by, had brought back this dried animal from foreign parts and had made a present of it to his brother, who was a monk in the convent ; and that it had hung on that nail ever since. A great many so-called Catholic le- gends are fabricated by Protestant tourists. " Se non son vere, son hen trovate — if they are not true, they are Avell imagined." But the most interesting and beautiful of all the ecclesiastical buildings in Lisbon is the church and monastery of Belem ; and of this Mr. Murray speaks well. This magnificent structure, he says, was intended as an expression of gratitude for the successful result of the experiment of Vasco da Gama. The site was selected as being the place Avhence that hero embarked, July 8, 1497, on his adventurous ex- pedition; and to which he returned 29 July, 1499, after discovering the Indies. Here had stood a small eremida, founded by the Infante Dom Hen" rique, the great promoter of maritime discovery, for the convenience of mariners. In this chapel, ECCLESIASTICAL. 95 Vasco da Gama and liis companions passed the night previous to their embarkation in prayer. On the successful return of the expedition, King Manoel the Fortunate founded this pile, and lies buried in a sarcophagus near the altar. We have seen many a worse inscription than that upon this tomb : — Littore ab occidno qui primi ad Hmina soils Extendit cultnm notitlamque Dei, Tot reges domlti cui submlsere thiaras, Conditor hoc tumulo Maxlmus Emmanuel. The principal entrance to the church is by a side door, or double porch, richly carved and orna- mented with thu^ty statues. The church itself is of an unusual height^— its apparently almost flat roof resting upon the loftiest and slenderest pillars of white marble. So impossible did it seem that these slight shafts should support such a roof, that all the wise ones of the day predicted that it must fall so soon as the scaffolding should be removed ; and the poor Italian architect, Potassi, fled and hid himself from the shame that was to cover him. The king ordered that the scaffolding should be removed by malefactors already condemned to death — in olden times they had always plenty of such on hand — and promised a free pardon to all 90 ECCLESIASTICAL. such as should not be crushed by the faUlng buildmg. The scaffolding was removed. The roof did not fall. The architect crept out of his hiding place. The church stood, and still continues to stand, not- withstanding the three centuries and a half that have passed over it ; and notwithstanding the shocks of the great earthquake. Our butler, to whom I have alluded, was a very curious character. He had been with us for some years. In the opening pages of this book, I wrote of a Mr. Andrews, the radical coachbuilder and Mayor of Southampton. Mr. Andrews had en- tered the town early in life as a journeyman forge- man with his bride ; and casting up their jomt worldly goods, had found, he said, that they amounted to seven shillings and fourpence. How- ever, by honesty, and cleverness, and politics, he had worked his way upwards, and had established a very large coachbuilding business of his own. I said that he partly owed his success to his cleverness, and of this I will give an instance. We had the Royal Agricultural Society's meeting at South- ampton, and beds were let at a guinea a night. " A guinea a night, sir," said Mr. Andrews to me ; " I had a good many rooms here in my house, and ECCLESIASTICAL. 97 I wrote to several gents that my beds were quite at their service. I had always a good luncheon on the table and a hamper of champagne for them in the corner of the dining room. They were naturally obliged to make me some return ; and, before the show was over, I had orders for three thousand pounds worth of carriages. Did not that pay me a vast deal better than letting my beds at a guinea a head would have done ?".... However, to return. In commemoration of his start in life, Mr. Andrew^s was in the habit of giving a grand annual dinner to all his workmen and such liberal big mgs as he could get together. Having an eye to the borough, of course I was invited, and went. He gave us capital dinners and lots of champagne. I had driven myself over one year in an open phaeton with Stevens, that he might wait on me at dimier. On our return, Stevens began talking to me about his rehgious scruples. He spoke very thick, and I told him we would talk on the subject next day. Neither next day, nor during the year did he allude to it ; but on that day twelvemonth, we were again driving to Botleigh Grange, after Mr. Andrews' festival, when said Stevens, speakmg again as thick as on the former anniversary, — 98 ECCLESIASTICAL. "This time last year, sir," he said, "we were coming home, just as we may be doing now, and I told you I wished to become a Catholic. You have never said one word to me on the subject since that time. Now, all the sms that I have committed from that night till now are on your conscience, sir, not mine. What 's religion good for but to prevent one committing sins ? Well now, I thought your religion would have kept me from sin ; but as you never instructed me, I think that all I have done wrong is on your conscience, not mme." I agam joostponed our conversation till next morning ; and this time, it was followed up, and Stevens became a Cathohc, and knocked down the fellow at Lisbon for speaking uTeverently of the Blessed Virgin, He had always had some proper feelings of religion. I had learned that, be- tween our two dinners at Mr. Andrews, he had built himself a cottage at Bittern, and had fixed a little stone cross over the door. " I wish you would take that away," said Dr. Hatherall, the burly rector, whose sermons were said to be written by his wife. " Why, sir, what harm can it do ?" asked Stevens. " Well ; people pass this way a good deal as ECCLESIASTICAL. 91) they go to church, and they may thmk it strange. I wish you would take it away." " No, sir, I shan't. If people notice it as they pass, and if it makes them think as how their Saviour died for them, I don't see as how that can do them any harm. I think it must do them good." And he did not take it away ; and Dr. Ha- therall went on his way repining. I had wished to put a headstone with a cross carved on it over the grave of an Irish nurse of mine who lay buried in his churchyard ; but the burly rector wrote to me that the cross and the name of poor nurse Cowley would remind people of her religion ; that he should have people praying for her soul ; and that, in short, he would never allow any stone or any inscription on any slab over the grave of any of my household. He would have nothing that could tempt people to pray for the dead. Nota Bene : He had made the widow of the founder pay £60 for permission to put up in the church a piece of sculjDture to the memory of her husband. Sixty pounds for permission to erect a monument (by the sculptor Bayly, R.A., and which would be an ornament to any chiuxh) to James Barlow Hoy, the founder of 100 ECCLESIASTICAL. the churcli, of wliicli this fellow, Hatherall, was then the rector I The memory of this impertinent dictation — this ^;repo^e7i2;c( of the parsons, made one congratulate oneself on being in Portugal rather than embalmed in the country life of England. Members of a corporation, with per- sonal and corporate interests different from those of general society, there is no sympathy between country gentry and country parsons. The gossip of their wives, their daughters, and their con- nexions : — the favour which the state shows to their monopoly, and which fashion and timidity comjDel the family-man to bow before : — the dis- like which they know to be felt by all, and the scarce-covert sneers of the independent few : — the encroaching opposition of dissent — these triumphs and tribulations generate in the rural clergy, a spirit of backbiting, bumptiousness, bullying, and bitterness, which makes it collec- tively the nuisance of all country society. The exceptions are — the single men, good fellows who write their own sermons — the liberal-minded men, who are looked upon as black sheep by their brethren ; and the gentlemen — the men of the world whose position in society does not derive from their being parsons. CHAPTER IX. THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE, Prognostics. — Present dread. — The Minister, De Pomljal. — Attack on the King. — Funny Conspiracy. — Uncertainties. If it were possible that any one should arrive at Lisbon without having heard of the great earthquake and of the Mmister Pombal, he would, after a very short stay, be better in- formed. He would hear of the effects of the earthquake on every public building he went to visit ; and he would observe, in every private house in course of construction, walls of wooden frame-work filled with lath and plaster raised inside the mam stone walls, and jointly with them supporting the roof; so that, in case of an earthquake, the whole structure should rather incline to one side than topple down upon the in-dwellers. Strong must be the fear which prompts such ]:)recaiitions, aiid such risk of im- 102 THE GKEAT EARTHQUAKE. pending ruin to guard against the possible re- currence of an event which smote the city one hundred years ago ! On the first of November, 1755, Loch Lomond and Loch Ness in Scotland were strangely agi- tated ; till, at length, a huge wave rose out of the latter and overflowed its beach to the ex- tent of thirty feet. At that time, the waters of the hot wells at Bristol became red as blood, and those of another well perfectly black; while the retiring tide of the pretty Avon River suddenly turned back towards the land. That same first of November had dawned upon Lisbon through a dense fog ; but the bright autumn sun soon scattered the unusual visitor ; and under a clear and glowmg sky, the multitude sought the churches to celebrate the festival of All Samts. How many of them were doomed not to leave those churches alive ! At thui:y-five minutes past nine, a low rumblmg underground noise was heard, which all knew to be the fore- runner of an earthquake ; for they had felt several during late years. They prayed somewhat the more devoutly, for no great harm had ever come from these shocks. The noise, however, this time increased ; it came nearer, and yet more near ; at THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE. lO:) length it rose as loud as the roar of artillery. Crash ! above and around, 'shook the churches ; staggered the buildmgs. Down, instantly, went the upper stories of the loftier houses. Their in- mates had no time to escape ; those passing in the streets below, had no time or space to avoid the falling roofs. From the houses, they dashed themselves through the windows into the streets to avoid the ruin within, and were crushed by the falling walls. Without, all was darkness ; the bright sun had disappeared ; and through a murky atmosphere, and on a rolling, unsteady, earth, they groped and staggered to the more open spaces of the city. Happy those who were able to effect what all had wished — their escape to the river quay. Here thousands had congregated ; and congratu- lated themselves that they were safe, let what would happen elsewhere. They leapt into the small boats which lined the beach ; they crowded the grand new quay that had lately been built of solid stone far into the river. Another shock ! and they saw the church of S. Catherine fall sud- denly to the ground, crushing those who had fled for safety to the open and lofty space beside it. They saw .... but, heavens ! look to seaward I 104 THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE. The river — it rises ! it rushes onwards, upwards, as if loaded with all the waters of the Atlantic: it yawns ; it opens ; the boats fastened to the beach, the new stone quay — all — all disappear, with the multitudes that throng them. The big ships in the new stream are dashed upon one another, or swallowed do"WTi, or cast far upon the ruins where had stood the city. The captain of one vessel, who escaped, declared that the earth at the bottom of the river had surged up with his own anchor higher than the bidwarks of his vessel. Down, however, again suddenly down, went the Tagus, doing fearful damage to the httle shippmg that had escaped. A third time the earth reeled, and more of the city toppled down. Less, how- ever, less violent, less and less frequent, became the shocks. But a new horror arose. From seve- ral and various quarters of the city, from chiu'ches that had been illuminated for the morning wor- ship, from private dwellings, and from public kitchens burst forth innumerable flames. Widely they spread. Fiercely they raged. For six days and nights, they devoured whatever the earth- quake had spared ; and sad was the scene of deso- lation when, at length, they were got under. THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE, TO.") Out of 20,000 dwelling-houses, hardly three thousand remained standing. Beneath the ruins, or swallowed up in the sea, upwards of twenty- fom^ thousand inhabitants had disappeared. Lis- bon had been one of the richest cities in Europe. One million sterling w^as lost in coined money; four millions in jewels and precious stones ; two millions in diamonds belonging to the crown. The whole property destroyed was calculated to be of the value of £536,360,000. Of this loss, seven and a half millions sterling fell upon British subjects ; but, to the honour of England, be it re- corded, that, so soon as the calamity was known, the King called upon Parliament to assist the sufferers, and nobly and generously was the ap- peal responded to, out of the public purse and from private liberality. But as London was purified by its great fire, so all the beautiful streets and squares, mtersecting each other at right angles, that we now admire in Lisbon arose after the earthquake, under the presiding genius of the world-famed minister, De Pombal — world-famed for his talents and the in- iquitous use he made of them. Enriched by the wealth that Brazil and its other colonies con- tinued to pour into Lisbon, the government of 106 THE GREAT EARTHQUAKE. this powerful favourite of the weak king Joseph I. w^as soon able to repair all material damage. But while the world was admii'ing the energy of the minister, it was startled by the frequent rumours that told of his darker deeds. Of no very illustrious family himself, as he had won the favour of his sovereign, so he had aroused tlie jealousy of the older gentry ; and on these and on the clergy who would not abet his views, he resolved to avenge himself. About three years after the earthquake, the king, w4io, with the royal family, had fled from the palace but a few seconds before it fell, was attacked by unknown desperadoes as he was riding through a solitary lane near Belem, and did not escape without a wound. Here was a glorious opportunity for a minister who was said to rule by the discovery of pretended conspiracies ! Pombal immediately hatched a sort of Titus Gates plot, and involved in it every noble family who had not cringed to him or whose lands he coveted. The king believed it all ; and without a semblance of real evidence, the prisons were filled and the scaffolds reeked with blood. The rack and the headsman did their work on the quay of Belem. The bodies of the victims were burned, and their ashes thrown into THE GltEAT EARTHQUAKE. 107 the Tagus. All of the illustrious house of Aveiro were extipated. One, of the other great house of Tavora, who had refused to intermarry with the De Pombals, was stripped of lands and titles, and left to beg his bread in the streets of Lisbon. " Funny conspiracy !" exclaims Voltaire : "mthe history of the world, there had never been such a one in any country. A conspiracy hatched at the same time by monks, by nobles, by merchants, by soldiers, by bishops, by Jesuits at Goa, at the Brazils, and at Lisbon, by Germans, by Poles, by Hungarians, by Portuguese. As there never was invented a more atrocious and a more bloody lie, so there never was a more gross and ridiculous one. However, it answered the minister's purpose. He degraded the nobles, enriched himself, and banished the Jesuits from Portugal. After the death of his weak sovereign, a solemn inquest was held on the alleged conspiracy, and all the victims were declared to have been innocent. Eio-lit hundred persons were alone found alive m the prisons, out of the nine thousand whom he had in- carcerated. And, amid the national execration, he was banished twenty miles from the court by a weak queen, who would not bear too hard upon 108 THE (iREAT EAIITHQUAKE. her father's memory, and was allowed to die hi peace, and in the enjoyment of his ill-gotten wealth. The family of De Pombal still exists. I had the pleasure of knowing many of them well — as noted now for their virtues as their progenitor had been for his scoundrelism. The Duke of Saldanha is one of the clan ; and boasted to me that, when the supposed bones of the great minister were lately removed from the church, where they had remained for upwards of half a century unburied, more than forty of his kin had followed the solemn procession. It was, however, as doubtfid whose or what were the bones so honoured, as it is doubtful over whom is raised the monument, lately inscribed, in the cemetery of Lisbon, to the English novelist, Henry Fieldmg. CHAPTER X. NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. Climate. — Flowers. — H.R.H. the Infanta Isabel. — Quinta of Lumiar ; of Oeiras — The Grape Disease. — Oranges. — Horse Races. — Mafra. — Another Horse. — Cintra. — The Royal Palace. — D. Sebastian, — The Duke of Wellington and the King.-^The Pena. — D. John de Castro. — Mr. Beckford. — The Cork Convent. — The Pinch of Snuff and Prince Torlonia. But winter— if there be any season of the year that can be called winter in this delicious climate — had now passed aivay. The thermometer had generally stood at from 60 to 65 Fahr. During one fortnight at the end of January and beginning of February, it had gone below 60, and even as low as 54. There had generally been about ten degrees difference between midday and midnight. There was a fire-place in one room in our house — a room to the north — and this we had sometimes lighted ; but spring was come and we had felt no winter. Baron Kessler, the German physician of King Ferdinand, had indeed often visited our in- valid, and had every time made her draw a deep 110 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. breath, which produced a cough, and then the Baron had looked wise, and had exclaimed : — " II y a quelque chose — there is a something !" and had ordered a syi^up ; but he had never been able to decide what the " quelque chose" was ; and now we were all enjoying the contemplation of the bright pmk blossom that covered the judas trees, that studded the gardens beneath our windows dowm to the Tao-us edofe. The flowers in Lisbon and its neighbourhood are very beautiful. There is a small public walk, in the lower part of the town, the tropical trees and flowers in which much interested me. The new garden of the Estrella I have already spoken of Then there were villas m the neio-hbourhood, in which the natives showed a love of flowers and of gardening rare amongst residents on the conti- nent. The gardens of the Marquez Fronteira at Bemfica were almost as interesting by day as his house had been at the grand ball he had given soon after our arrival. To that same villaore of Bemfica, we were taken to be presented to H.R.H. the Infante Isabel, who had governed the kingdom as Regent for her brother, the Emperor of Brazil, with much pru- dence and popularity. We found her a kindly- NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON". 1 11 mannered, benevolent old lady, who showed us the magnificent magnolia trees in her garden, as large as large elms, and interested herself very much in our family. The Quinta of Lumiar was a much grander place — beautifully laid out on ground that af- forded every facility for landscape gardening. Here were the most lovely flowers and flowering shrubs, greenhouses, and parterres ; and, amid secluded groves, were small paddocks fenced m for Southdown sheep and deer ! But grander than any of them, though not so well kept up, \\^ere the palace and gardens of Oeiras, a few miles down the Tagus — one of the many seats of the great Marquez de Pombal. We walked ourselves half to death in these extensive grounds, under the guidance of one of the family ; and admired the magnificent cellars, in which were some scores of casks for wine, each, appar- ently, as large as the big tun at Heidelberg, but which had remained perfectly empty since the in- fliction of the grape disease, A hard tussel, in- deed, had this and many other wealthy families to maintain themselves without this chief source of income ; but the De Pombal gave us a plentiful 112 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. and excellent luncheon in his Qumta, wliich was most acceptable after our long walk. This allusion to the grape disease gives me an occasion to mention that it had shown itself in Portugal three centuries before, to such an extent that it had been provided, in leases still extant, that tenants should be entitled to a proportionate reduction, or even a total return, of their rental in the provinces in which it appeared. At this time, people were fearmg a somewhat similar disease which threatened the oranges, and wliich must have been a gTievous loss to many in Portugal. For example, I was one day talking agriculture with one of the largest landed proprietors in the peninsula, the Marquez de Ficallio, son and heir of the Dowager Duchess of Ficalho (I do not know why he did not assume her title), when he replied to a question of mine — "Oranges! I grow little but oranges. I leave you English to grow corn, and the French and ItaHans to grow wine and oil : my land and climate vnU. grow oranges, which are more valuable than anything else ; so I no more grow corn than an Englishman would grow oats or a Lucchese apples." The advance of spring had also been greeted by horse races, to witness which we had driven out to NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. 113 Campo Grande. This, however, was only a first effort to get up hurdle races ; and after all the horses had vainly attempted to leap a fence two feet nine inches high, the attempt was abandoned as impracticable, and we aU returned merrily to Lisbon. But now, before the summer should be further advanced, I would make more distant excursions into the country — with our own " caroagem" and horses, as the newspaper editor had foretold I should travel. We started on the 5 th of May. The road I followed was disao-reeable — hot and dusty ; but it was wide and well-made ; and after a five hours drive, we looked down upon that im- mense pile of stone, the spires of which we had beheld far out at sea, some months before, as we had approached the mouth of the Tagus. I drove down to the poor unpaved village of Mafra ; took possession of rooms and stable, and ordered supper at the decent little inn ; and then went to see the mighty palace. Mighty in its massive ugliness : majestic in its massiveness, rises the great church with dome and towers, and the great palace joined to it on either side. From the hot sandy common, un- paved, undecorated, unenclosed, the huge building ] 1 4 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. of ruddy sandstone rises in unmeaning grandeur, a parallelogram, of which the longest sides measure 770 feet, and are four storeys high. This is its history : — The magnanimous king Don John V, who built that rich chapel we have described, had no son and heir, but vowed that if one were born to him, he would change the poorest monastery in Portu- gal into the richest one. Don Joseph came into the world — and so did Mafra ; for in a hut on this spot, were found to dwell twelve monks of the poorest order in Portugal. Straightway 1 .5,000 persons were set to work for thirteen years, under the direction of the architect Ludovici, a German : and at a cost supposed to exceed 19,000,000 dol- lars, uprose, upon the desert plain, the huge fabric, containing a glorious church, a magnificent monastery, a palace for the king, one similar to it for the queen ; the whole adjoining, but lighted from nine inner courtyards, and covered by a flat roof, on which ten thousand men might be re- viewed. Above this roof, rise four domes, one at each angle ; the great dome of the centre church ; and, on each side of it, one of the two spu*es con- taining the wondrous clocks and chimes of bells. These were made in Holland ; and when the NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. 115 Dutch manufacturers of whom they had been ordered declined the costly job, because they feared the Httle kingdom of Portugal could not bear the expense, Don John replied that his agents had made a mistake ; that the machinery was to be twice as costly as they had ordered ; and he sent the money m advance to pay for it. Truly, Don John the Magnanimous was a magni- ficent fellow ! These bells are said to have cost near three miUions of dollars. We went up to them and saw a maze of wheels within wheels, and of httle cogs and great cogs, much like those in a cotton factory. The keeper moved a plug and they played a remarkably sweet and pretty tune — much as a Geneva musical box would have done — and we gave the keeper one thousand three hundred reis, with which he was very well satisfied. So were we. We returned to supper at our inn. You know not, gentle reader, what it has cost me to come to this lame and impotent conclusion. It required an efibrt ere I could consent to leave the palace without saying more about it : without telling that, in all the nine hundred rooms it con- tains, there is not one really large and handsome hall ; and without describing the architectural 116 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. riclies of the really beautiful church. But these descriptions are they uot Avritten by Beckford, and by my friend Dr. lUsley, in his excellent Lisbon Guide, and by Miu-ray's Handbook, which quotes from him ? It was all very well for the author of Vatliek to describe them in his earlier days, when these guide-books existed not ; but now, no one going to Portugal would go without them ; and I see not why I should poach upon their manor. I profess to give only personal im- pressions of what I see ; if the reader judges from what I say that the country is worth seeing, let him buy professed guide-books and go and see it. I shall not give architectural descriptions until other matter fails me ; and until I know not how else to fill my volumes. One of the disadvantages of travelling with one's own " caroagem" and horses is, that one is tempted to take short cuts. Such an one led from Mafra to Cinti-a. By the bye, I have never told the reader that I had been able to replace my poor horse that had been killed by the P. and 0. Company ; that I had replaced him at Lisbon. My very obliging banker, Mr. Krus, had found out for me that Count Farrobo had a fiine iron-grey Englisli horse, the fellow of which had died in NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. I 1 7 Lisbon. This was a tolerable match for the sur- vivor of mine, although rather too weedy in the legs ; and this I had bought for two hundred and forty thousand reis — which meant, I forget how much. With these horses, therefore, and our English britzska, I branched off from the weary road from Mafra to Lisbon across one that led direct to Cintra. It was an awful track ; but English horses will always do their work, whatever it may be ; and I had ever held it a maxim that I could drive wherever wheels had joassed before. At last, therefore, we arrived at the Hotel Victor in Cintra, and gazed on the two enormous piles, like chimneys of vast factories, that rose at no great distance. Let poets say what they will of Cintra, these are the most striking objects there ; and the Frenchman who said that the kitchen was always ^' la piece la i^lus intei^essante de la maison" would have spoken indisputable truth had he applied the sentence to these mighty conical chimneys of the kitchen of the royal palace, that enclose under their roof the fireplaces and ranges, like the giant cover of an Irish stew. Everything about this palace denotes that it was founded when the Moorish kings ruled at 118 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. Lisbon, though their Christian conquerors have smce occupied it. The consequent anachronisms and mixture of the architecture are very curious. The ornaments of the windows are quite Arabic. The paintings of the rooms are quite of Christian chivalry. The legend connected with the ceiluig and frieze of the HaU of the Magpies, for example, reminds one of the days which first heard " Honi soit qui mal y 2^^>>-^<~''" King John of Portugal, once upon a time, was caught by his fiery queen, Philippa of Lancaster, payhig some question- able attention to one of her maids of honour. " Por bem I — for good ;" or " all right !" exclaimed the king. And he forthwith had this room de- corated wdth magpies, to denote the tattling qualities of his courtiers ; while each magpie, by a legend coming out of its mouth, repeated the *' Por bem !" which the king took as his motto. In another room, are j^ainted the escutcheons of twenty-four of the oldest families of Portu- gal ; the arms of the family of Tavora and Aveiro, whom De Pombal ruined for their pre- tended conspiracy agamst the king, having been erased by the revengeful mmister. Here is the wretched apartment in which Afibnso VI was confined for fifteen years, with the tracks of his NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. 119 daily walk worn deep in the brick pavement as he paced it to and fro ; and here, too, is the room in which the brave young King Sebastian held his last audience, and in which the royal crown is said to have fallen from his head — a sad omen of what was to follow. For the chivaMc young king having determined, as every reader knows, to carry the war against the Moors into Africa, crossed the seas with the very flower of his powerful and wealthy kingdom ; but was so utterly defeated at Alcacer Quibir, that only fifty Portuguese are said to have survived. The body of the king could never be found, and a regent was appointed in his stead ; then, when, failing the direct line, the hated Spaniard succeeded to the rule, a belief in the contmued hfe and future return of Sebastian was sustained by patriots, and became almost a national creed. Different claimants appeared and were disposed of ; but so strong had become the popular faith in the return of Don Sebastian, that even after the "sixty years captivity," after the Spaniards were expelled by the gallant Dukes of Braganca, people still looked forward to the return of this unfortunate youth, as of a Messiah miraculously preserved for the good of his country. We are told of one personage who appeared at 120 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. Venice, twenty years after the lost battle, and who really did give evidence that he was the missing king. Some negative evidence to the truth of his story might be suspected, from the fact that he as suddenly disappeared or was made away with, after he had shown such marks on his person as Don Sebastian was known to have had ; after he had described all the crown jewels in Portugal ; and after he had told of certain signs engraved on the reverse of a ring which Don Sebastian had really given to the Marqueza Medina CoeH. This anecdote of the rmg reminds me of another, more interesting to English people. The first Duke of Wellington, meeting Mrs. Dawson Darner at a dinner party, was observed to look mtently at a ring worn by that lady. After dinner, he accosted her and requested to be allowed to see it, as the children say, " in his own hands." " Where did you get this ring V said F. M. the Duke. " It belonged to the late Mrs. Fitzherbert." " Yes. Do you know the trick of it ? Have you opened it V " Opened it I I know of no trick !" exclaimed the lady. NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. ' 121 The Duke touched a sprmg, and showed behind the ring a tuiy miniature of the Regent in his best days. " There were two of these rings," explained the Duke. " They were exactly alike — so my at- tention was drawn to yours. The fellow ring to this differed from it in that it enclosed the likeness of Mrs. Fitzherbert. The king gave that one to me before he died, and ordered me to place it on his breast before the coffin was closed down. I did so." Return we to Ciiitra where — " The horrid crags by toppling convent crown'd, The cork trees hoar that clothe the shaggy steep, The mountain moss by scorching skies embrown'd, The sunken glen whose sunless shrubs must weep, The tender azure of the unruffled deep. The orange tints that gild the greenest bough. The torrents that from cliff to valley leap, The vine on high, the willow branch below, Mix'd in one mighty scene with varied beauty glow." So mouths Byron — a boyish style he left with Childe Harold. " The horrid crag by toppling convent crowned," is the most striking feature of Cintra from a distance, as the Moorish chimneys are from the town. The Convent of the Pena, however, no longer exists as such, having been suppressed with other religious houses. Bought by a private person who could not keep it up, it WHS since purchased by King Fernando, and 122 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. restored with that taste which he so greatly pos- sesses. A wide carriage road now winds up the hitherto rugged ascent, and leads to a drawbridge and castle gateway, over which are carved the arms of Portugal and Saxony. Turrets and towers rise beside native pinnacles of rocks, and amid cloistered coiu'ts and hangmg woods. No spot on earth is more romantic ; no gardens more wonder- fully placed ; no view more magnificent than the view beheld from this lofty embattled tower. The great heath plain on one side dotted with culti- vated oases of vines, and broken by the lonely pile of Mafra ; the blue Atlantic stretching on the other sides, and seen through the broken pinnacles of rock ; and the tufted cork-tree covered hills of this glorious headland of Cintra. Let us remember too, although the boyish petulance of Cliilde Harold thinks such trash as leads him to exclaim — Poor paltry slaves ! yet born midst noblest scenes — TVhy, Nature, waste thy wonders on such men ?" let us remember that to this giddy height, on which he had founded the convent of the Pena, Kmg Emanuel constantly toiled up m the hope of de- scrymg the fleet of Vasco da Gama returning from the discovery of India ; and that he himself on 29th of Jidy, 1499, m-rs in fact the fii'st to descry NEIGHBOUEHOOD OF LISBON. 123 the pilot vessel of the successful adventurers re- entering across the bar of the Tagus. " Poor paltry slaves/' indeed 1 Find me a sovereign now- a-days who would care sufficiently for science and progress to undergo such personal toil for its sake. Show me a people who would follow up the spirit of magnificent adventure more eagerly than did the gallant Portuguese. Through the lovely gardens of the Pena, a path conducts to the ruins of the castle of the Moors that crown another rocky peak. These possess no great interest beyond a large Moorish swimming- bath, about fifty feet long, which is constantly supplied with the clearest water by some of those unseen springs which rise in the ridge of Cintra, and produce that freshness of vegetation, and that cool atmosphere, which entice the Lisbonians to spend the two hottest months of the year amid its pleasant hills. After breakfast, next mornmg, our carriage came to the door, and I drove past the Quinta of Mar- quez Louie, on the open space in front of which is the fashionable evening lounge of the inhabitants of Cintra, during the season of villeggiatura. It was now deserted ; and I note the place only as being the house in which the disgraceful conven- 124 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. tion was signed between Sir H. Dalrymple and Jimot, tlie convention at which folks in office *' fam would blush, if blush they could, for shame." Then I drove on to the villa and grounds of Penha Verde, once the residence of the great Don Joao de Castro, and still belonging to his descendants ; we lingered long in the shady w^alks of these neg- lected grounds, and gathered some leaves from the six trees growing on the rock which this great hero and, during twenty years. Viceroy of the Indies — through whose hands the fabulous wealth of that newly discovered world had passed to his country — from the six trees and rock which he had asked to have added to his garden in sole requital of all his toils and conquests. The prayer was granted; and, after swearing to the truth of a declaration that he had spent his whole mcome in j)roviding for the wants of his fellow soldiers, and did not possess coin enough to buy hmi a meal or a change of linen, this great pious man expired in the arms of St. Francis Xavier, the apostle of the Indies, as he himself had been its ruler. On a beautiful mound, overshaded with ancient cork-trees, is a small chapel with some nice inscriptions, inti- matmg that it had been founded in compliance NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. 125 with a vow made to imprecate a safe voyage out and a safe return. Unwillingly we drove away from this classic spot to one more popularly known to English people, unknown to universal or nobler fame : — We reached Monserrat, the villa founded by Mr. Beckford, the author of Vatlieh Like Fonthill Abbey, it is almost a ruin. " Quid feci ? ubi lapsus sum ?" exclaims the motto of the once heroic Courtenays. The little town of CoUares did not justify the enthusiastic descriptions I had read of its scenery; and, tiunmg homewards, I left my carriage at the side of a bleak volcanic waste, and cut across the country for a couple of miles to the Capuchos, the last convent founded by D. Joao de Castro, for twenty Franciscan monks. It is a curious place ! Recollecting that penance and mortifica- tion have been taught by the founders of all religions — Pagan, Jewish, and Christian — we must admit that here the rite can be practised to perfection ! Here are a church, sacristy, chapter house, and about twenty cells, partly dug out of the earth, partly built of stone, but all lined with cork to keep out the damp. Each cell is about five feet square ; each is entered by a door 126 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. SO low that one has to bend nearly double to pass; no windows; the doors fastened with sticks; the convent bell pulled by a vine withe. Never, elsewhere, did human beings live in such wretched holes ! Nay, even the hole or cave of Honorius, which is shown in the convent garden, is prefer- able. I crawled into it, and by drawing up my legs, it was long enough to cover me, and I could sit upright on the ground m one spot. But here, at least, was seclusion and quiet, and compara- tively fresh air ; and, not having the monastic spirit upon me, I felt that I would rather live here, as the hermit Honorius did, for the last sixteen years of his life, than have been doomed to the close community of the cork cells. This holy monk joined his brethren in their church services and in the labours of the day ; but chose this hole as his own cell, and here he died at the age of 95, in the year 1596. Lord Byron says of him : — " Deep in yon cave Honorius long did dwell, In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell." Miu-ray's Handbook quotes the inscription on a stone in front of the cave : — " Hie Honorius vitam finivit, Et ideo cum Deo in coelis revivit." " Here Honorius ended his life, And, therefore, lives with God in heaven." NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON". 127 And Murray adds, " these are lines which some may prefer to Lord Byron's sneer on the same subject." The Lisbon Guide also quotes the two inscrip- tions, and bids .the reader to disembody his mind, and ask himself, when passing into a future state, whether he would rather have been Byron or Honorius. Verily, the noble Childe's "philosophy" has not met with the applause he anticipated ! We returned to Cintra, lunched, baited the horses, paid our bill (15,420 Beis — about £3 : 8 : for 6 people and 2 horses), and, in the cool of the evening, drove past the once royal villa of Bamalhaon — now the property of the tobacco con- tractor Guedez, with whom I was destined to fall out — and returned to Lisbon. One often does fall out with these tobacco con- tractors. My son, of the Brompton Oratory, before starting to go to Bome for the great cen- tenary gathering of 1867, desired his usual tobac- conist in Bond Street to fill his box with choice snuff that he might have a good pinch to offer to the big wigs he should meet. " Beware what you do, sir," said the trades- man. " A customer of mine had just the same 128 NEIGHBOURHOOD OF LISBON. fancy a few years ago, and being at a party at Prince Torlonia's offered him his box. ' Capital snuff !' exclaimed the Prince ; ' where could you have got it ?' 'I brought two or three pounds with me,' rephed the Englishman ; ' and, as you seem to like it so much, if you will send yom' snuff-box to my lodgings to-morrow morning, I will fill it for you.' " Prince Torlonia was the tobacco contractor ; and, next morning, instead of the sniiff-box, ap- peared to the astonished traveller, two gens- d'armes to sequestrate those two or three pounds of snuff from which it was to have been filled. Hospitable, wasn't it ? CHAPTER XI. INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. A Portuguese Railroad. — Caldas. — An Innkeeper's Bill. — Battle of Aljubarrota. — Batalha. — Monastery of Alco- ba9a. — Don Pedro and Inez de Castro. — Portuguese Inns. When we arrived at the railway station on the morning of the 25th May, we found the Saldanhas, Lavradios, and a large merry party of mutual friends, who were starting to spend the day at one of the Farrobo country houses. We were received with most gratifymg acclamations, and were lu-ged to change our plans and join their party. It was impossible to do so, as we had sent forward our French coachman to the point where we should have to leave the railroad. Away steamed the train along the banks of the Tagus, which soon opened into the wide marshy lake known to English sailors as Jackass Bay. We passed through Alhandra and Villa Franca, where ended our famous lines of Torres Vedras, and 130 INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. found our carriage at a miserable station called Caregado. Here we left the river, and drove through a pretty country to Cercel. We dined on an omelet, and the horses baited ; and we then proceeded to sleep at Caldas. Now Caldas, be it known, is a clean well-paved town of 1600 inhabitants. It is celebrated for its mineral waters, and is on the high road from Porto to Lisbon. As a matter of course, we had calculated upon findmg here good entertainment for man and horse. We were m the interior of Portugal ; and, as this is the only occasion I shall have of speaking of Portuguese imis, I will mention that, at the Nova Hospederia of Caldas, no meat and no milk could be found; and that next day the bill showed what entertainment we had enjoyed, as follows : — I say bill ; but, on reflection, I really thmk that they had not ar- rived at such a height of civihsation : — I paid, however, as follows : — For three beds (for self, wife, and coachman) 680 Wine and omelet, and bread ; (they could get nothing else) 740 Breakfasts ; (we had carried our own tea) 320 Coachman's food 480 INTEEIOR OF PORTUGAL. 131 Horse com 900 Straw 720 3840 About 18 s. We visited the hot baths, which seem very commodious and well managed. The tem- perature of the water is 92 Fahr. ; and the hos- pital, maintained by the government, contained 600 poor patients. It seemed to be settled rainy weather, and we drove on through an uninteresting country, my predominating remembrance of which is as of open heaths. The road was good — newly-made or improved. With straining eyes, but without halting, we passed the monastic pile of Alcoba9a and the great battle-field of Aljubarrota — the one the largest in the world, the other as important as ever patriot valour won. For in 1383, D. Fer- dinand I. had died, leaving only one daughter, who was married to the Spanish King of Castile. Portugal would never succumb to Spain ; and in its general Cortes, unanimously elected for its sovereign an illegitimate son left by the father of the late king. This valiant one, Don John I., collected what forces he could ; and, having de- feated detached bodies of the Spaniards in two 132 INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. engagements, came up with the main body of their army on the fields of Batalha and Alju- baiTota. He had but 6,500 men. The Kmg of Spain had a host, the numbers of which are reported variously from 33,000 to 90,000 ; he had also the first artillery ever seen in Portugal. The Archbishop of Braga rode along the Portuguese lines, and blessed the eager troops m the napae of the true Pope, Urban VI. A Spanish Bishop blessed the Spanish host m the name of the Anti- pope, Clement VI. A cannon was fired by them, and two brothers in the Portuguese army fell dead. Never had the troops heard such imple- ments, kilhng from such a distance. A panic seized them. " I know for a certainty," exclaimed a ready- witted patriot soldier, " that they were two base scoundrels and traitors, whom Heaven deemed un- worthy to share our glory !" and onwards Don John's little army rushed. The Spanish tent was stormed and all its furniture taken. The great standard of Castile was taken, and the mvad- ing Spaniard, ill of the ague, leapt upon his horse and never drew bridle till he reached the friendly garrison of Santarem. The great caul- drons used for cooking the beans of the Spanish INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. 133 soldiers were taken ; and when, two centuries later, during the sixty years captivity, an abbot of Alcobaca was so poor a courtier as to show one of them to the Spanish Sovereign then reigning in Portugal, and proposed making it into a bell, "Let it alone," said Philip II, "if it made so much noise in the world as a cauldron, who could endure it as a bell !" All this we thought of as, through the rain, we drove over this historic ground and passed the old bakehouse, the oven peel of which, wielded by the brave baker's wife, killed seven Spanish soldiers durmg the gallant fight. " Endiahrada como a padeira d' Aljuharrota — as bedevilled as the bakeress of Aljubarrota," is still a popular saying. But soon we entered the little valley where, in consequence of King John's vow if he won the great battle, soon uprose, and still towers in its magnificence, the monastery and church of Batallia. Shall I attempt to describe this world-famed pile ? — its cloisters, which nothmg in Europe can rival — its " unfinished chapel," which nothing m Europe can surpass ! Such pinnacles, such flying buttresses, such battlements, such spires, such carved stone, nowhere else can meet the wondering gaze in such 134 INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. harmonious confusion. With honest national pride, I saw the arms of England impaled with those of Portugal over the tombs of the gallant King John and his Queen Philippa, of Lancaster, who was consulted on the plan of the building, and sug- gested some modification of English Gothic to its wondrous architect ; and, with honest hatred of all that is mean and barbarous, we cursed the memory of those French savages who had broken and defaced all they could deface and break m their rapid marches through Portugal. It would have taken months to study, as they deserve to be studied, the endless beauties of this glorious pile. With a feelmg of unsatiated wonder that such should be found in this retired valley, sunilar to that which oppresses the mmd after viewing the temples of Prestum, we eat our bread and omelet at the poor little mn, and drove back to Alcobaya. The ancient Cistercian monastery of Alcoba^a is the largest in the world. A Portuguese saying declared that its cloisters were cities, its sacristy a church, and its chiu'ch a basilica, or, as Mr. Km- sey translates it, "a basilisk." It contamed one thousand monks, less one. The convent was enormously rich, but most generous and judicious INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. 135 in the distribution of its wealth. The poor fed at its gates ; the more inteUigent were educated by it ; and, like all the other great monastic houses in Portugal, it always paid thirty per cent, of its yearly income to the service of the State. The church is very grand — after Batalha, the grandest building in the kingdom. The kitchen is even more remarkable for its size ; its fire-place is in proportion — twenty-eight feet long and eleven feet deep. The whole building was much injured by the French in their flight, Massena himself having ordered it to be burned down. That which has been rebuilt is in no way worthy of that which was destroyed. This convent, like other religious houses since the suppression, is falling into ruin. A great part of it is used as barracks. But the church of Alcobaca derives an interest unequalled by any other church, in that it con- tains the monuments of the wretched Don Pedro and Inez de Castro. Who has not mourned over the recital of the loves of the hereditary Prince of Portugal and the beautiful Inez ! of their secret marriage, and of the murder of the poor bride by order of her brutal father-in-law, King Alfonso ? Who has not felt with the bereaved husband in 136 ' INTERIOR OF PORTUGAL. his anger against his father, and m the steady revenge with which he sought out her three murderers ? Two only was he able to secure ; and we must hope that a certam amoimt of mad- ness prompted his subsequent proceedmgs. He caused the heart of one to be cut out through his breast ; that of the other to be torn through his back ; and, Avliile their bodies were being burned to ashes, he sat and dined by the light of the flames. He caused the body of his beloved wife to be unbmied, clothed it in royal robes, and seated it on a throne ; and compelled all the nobles of his kingdom to pay homage to the horrid pa- geant. Then, with unknown pomp, it was con- veyed from Coimbra to this mighty church, and placed in a tomb, the chiselled art of which has excited the admiration of five hundred years. Nothmg, indeed, can be more beautiful than the bas-reliefs that surround this high sarcophagus, on the top of which lies — larger than life — the noble figure of the murdered queen. It is supposed to be, and doubtless is, a true likeness, since it was carved under the superintendence of her widower. The nose was broken off by one of the French barbarians of Massena's army ; but there are traces of great beauty in all of the statue that is IXTElilOR OV rOUTUGAL. 137 uninjured. At the bottom of this, and turned feet to feet, in order that, on the day of resurrec- tion, his Inez might be the first object to meet his eyes, is the fellow-sarcophagus of her husband. Like the first, it is all of the whitest marble, of the most excellent workmanship ever perfected, after that of the queen ; and is surmounted by the large reclinmg figure, with tlie handsome face and stern features, of Don Pedro "the Severe." It was thoroughly wet weather. We slept at the poor little inn here ; baited next day at Cer- cel, and slept at Caldas. I was much pleased with the behaviour of the people at these places. The inns, it is true, were poor as poor could be, and were quite unprepared to receive gentlefolk travel- lers. But the people were most willing and civil ; they were modest and kind ; and their rooms and bedding quite clean. They contrasted very favour- ably with some of the blustering landlords of France and Italy, who know not how to charge enough for the dut and discomfort of their miserable pot- houses. We took the railroad at Villa Franca and returned to Lisbon. CHAPTER XII. A LOCATION IN LISBON. The Minister of Finances. — House-hunting. — The Tobacco Con- tractor and Lady O'Shaunessy. — A Brazilian Speculator " stumjoed." — Another Minister of Finances.— The House of Peers and the Author. — The English Minister afraid. It must, by this time, be sufficiently evident to the Reader that we liked Portugal, liked the climate, liked the Portuguese, and felt grateful to them for the really friendly mamier in which they had received us into their society. To back up and give active results to this feeling, was the doubt whether our invalid daughter would ever be strong enough to spend her winters in England ; and the dread that, on her account, some other Dr. Latham might, every autumn, send us wmter- wanderers over the earth. Would it not be wiser, safer, pleasanter to secure a residence at Lisbon, to which we might retreat from Northern regions, and in which we might find ourselves, at once. A LOCATION IN LISBON. 139 really at home and amongst friends ? Such was the advice constantly urged upon us by these friends of a few weeks' standing ; and I looked out for a house. But we had left England thinking only of a few months' absence ; and, though we had brought one carriage with us, for leave to use which I had deposited, with the Custom House, more than it was worth, I did not like to sink this money and as much more on any other carriage we might send for, or to pass our winters amid a gay society without havmg any china and plate for our own comfort (and the admu^ation of our friends !), or any jewelry with which to deck my wife and daughters. My readers of the Wahosh know how this same plate and jewelry had before bothered me. I therefore signed a request, which some good friend drew up for me in Portuguese, to Senhor Silva Sanches, the Mmister of Finances, that he would admit these objects duty-free for my own personal use ; and, in the letter which accompanied my application, I stated that I would not definitively engage any house until I had his answer and unless that answer were favourable. My application was taken to the Minister by Marshalls the Duke of Saldanha and the Duke 140 A LOCATION IN LISBON. of Terceira ; and, two days afterwards, I received an order to the Director of the Custom House to admit the effects duty-free. Armed with this, I went to work ; and, after an ineffectual attempt to deal for one which we familiarly called the Orange Grove — rather than pronounce the unpronounceable names of the owner — we fixed upon a large house in the Campo S. Anna. We were told that no one was in treaty for it ; and a price was named to our lawyer, with a promise to wait twenty-four hours for our answer. He was sent back immediately, to say that we would give the money. Two days afterwards, I was informed that the proprietors had sold the house to M. Guedez, the rich tobacco contractor before alluded to, for the same amount, and that the law empowered vendors to retract any bargam within sixty days. M. Guedez assiu-ed me that he had been long m treaty for the house, and had offered considerably less for it ; that, having re- ceived a message mforming him of the amount I was willmg to give, with an intmiation that he should say instantly yes or no, he had immediately closed the baro-ain. He wrote that he was deso- lated to find that I was the purchaser from whom lie had taken the house ; that there must have been A LOCATION IN LISBON. 141 some misimderstandiiig, as the vendors were recog- nised to be the soul of honour ; that he would gladly surrender his purchase to me, but that Mme. Guedez liked it, and that her wishes had always had great weight with hhn ; and that, in her delicate state of health, he could not even mention the subject to her, &c., &c., &c. I thought of the innkeeper, whom the Lord Lieutenant had knighted during a drunken frolic, who would willmgiy have forgone the honour but that Lady O'Shaunessy, his wife, would be dis- pleased. I looked further, and fixed on a grand house of Duke Terceira, on the edge of the Tagus ; but a Brazilian heard that I had l3een about it, and bought it for a price I had refused to give, on the speculation that he would seU it to me agam at a still higher price. He was disappointed. At last, I found a beautiful uninhabited house of Marquez de Pombal m the Via Formosa. On the other side, its own grounds sloped away in terraces, covered with orange groves, down to- wards the broad Tagus, wdiich they seemed to reach ; although there was a strip of the city con- cealed between the gardens and the river. It was a beautiful house, beautifully situated. The 142 A LOCATION IN LISBON. family could not sell it ; and, after a long treaty, I engaged to rent it on a twenty years lease. All this, as may be supposed, had been a mat- ter of mterest to society at large ; and even the King, his father, and the Duke of Oporto, now King Luiz, all condescended to ask me one even- mg at the Palace if we had found a house. His Majesty himself knew of the matter because I had been mstructed that I ought to thank hun personally for the portaria, or order to admit my goods, which his Minister had issued. Judge, then, of our surprise when I received notice that the Minister of Finances having been changed, the new man, Sig. d'Avila, had revoked the order issued in my favour by his predecessor, on the plea that it was illegal ! But, although I was much annoyed at the time, I am not gomg to make a serious matter of it now ; and I hope the reader may be as amused as I am by reading over old papers at this distance of time, and seemg what an excitement 1 unhappily caused in the restricted society and parliament of Portugal. In the Jornal do Commercio of the 1 3th May, 1857, I find a leading article in which the editor calls attention to a letter I had addressed to him ; A LOCATION IN LISBON. 143 and admits that the disagreement between two Ministers of Finance, the one repealing what the other had granted, gave me just cause of com- plamt. It is very true, the editor says, that diplomatic ministers are alone entitled to receive goods for their own use duty free, and that I am not of that number ; but that as the favour had been occasionally allowed, the " severidade de fiscal e excessiva," upsetting all my domestic arrange- ments, and preventing strangers, in similar circum- stances, from coming to reside temporarily amongst them. My letter was, however, as follows : — I translate from the French, in which I wrote : " Su", — Last December, you announced my arrival in Lisbon in terms far too flattering. The truth is, I did not come to Portugal to travel, but m search of health. Your beautiful climate has agreed with us so well that we had planned to spend here all our winters. But, before I took any decided step, I explained, to the Mmister of Finances, that, unless he granted me a portaria to receive, duty free, certain comforts from my home in England, such as plate, china, and some of my books . . . The Minister, M. G. da Silva Sanches, granted my request ; and I engaged the 144 A LOCATION IN LISBON. Marquis de Pombal's house, No. 1 7 Via Formosa, on a twenty years lease. " There was a change of ministry; and, after all my arrangements were made, M. D'Avila, suc- cessor of M. Gomes Sanches, has revoked the portaria to which I had trusted. " M. D'Avila asserts that such a favour would not have been granted to a stranger in England : that might have been a motive for refusmg it in Portugal, but not for withdramng it after it had been granted. England, however, would have preferred that its custom-house should lose a few thousand francs rather than that one of its Secretaries of State should break word with a foreigner. " M. D'Avila pretends that the portaria M^as illegal. I, as a foreigner, knew nothing of that. I compromised myself on the faith of the Minister of Finances. Some years ago, certam states in America, which had borrowed largely from foreign- ers, made a similar discovery, and repudiated then" debts. Foreigners are now giving theii' money towards the formation of railways in Portu- gal ; perhaps the Minister will discover that such loans are illegal and will repudiate them ? " This conduct of the Minister, who has acted A LOCATION IN LISBON. 145 upon his own responsibility, has been so much discussed in Lisbon that I must pray you to publish this letter in order to explain the facts of the case/' Two days afterwards, the same paper gave a short report of a discussion on the subject that had been raised, in the House of Peers, by the Marquez de Vallada ; and the best of the joke was that I misapprehended the short statement, and wrote and thanked the Marquez Vallada for coming forward (although I had not the honour of his acquaintance) to compel a vain and obstinate and upstart Minister to behave fairly towards a foreigner ! I afterwards found out how the matter really stood, as will appear from this other letter to the Jor7ial do Commercio. " 29th May, 1857. On my return from Batalha I find, in the Diai'io do Governo of the 25 th, the proces verbcd of what took place in the House of Peers on the 16th : — When your railroads are completed, the Diario will move quicker. They discussed, I see, the letter that I had written to you two days before ; and the present Minister of Finances and the Marquez Vallada congratulated one another that the former had prevented an Englishman from coming to spend his money at 146 A LOCATION IN LISBON. Lisbon. For one colomn and a half of the official Diary, they insisted that the letter of the law- should be followed in Custom House matters, with- out the least respect either for precedents or for the honour of the Government." * * * But, enough of my letter. The Minister, who had granted the permission, manfully defended in Parliament what he had done ; and the matter was discussed long and acrimoniously.* The * Forgive my vanity, which prompts me to preserve the following speech in its original Portuguese. It will, at all events, prove that 1 have not misrepresented the position which our kind friends had given us in the society of Lisbon. The government paper thus re- ports from the debate in the House of Peers the speech of the late Minister of Finances — " O Sr. Julio Gomes. Nao me recordo agora quando mas creio ter sidos nos ultimos dias que tive a hoitra de ser Ministro, que se me appresentou rnn requerimento do cavalheiro a que alludio o Digno Par o Sr. Marquez de Vallada, pedindo que se Ihe concedesse a entrada livre de dereitos, de objectos do seu proprio uso como eram pratas e loucas com a sua firma. Este cavalheiro desejava muito residir em Portugal, para ver se conseguia restabelecer a saude de imia pessoa da sua familia ; nao vinha estabelecer aqui a sua residencia, se Ihe nao concedessem, Uvre de dereitos, a entrada dos objectos de que se falla. Constoume per informacoes de caval- heiros digno de toda fe, que o referido individuo era mn perfeito caval- heiro, que nao vinha introduzir em Portugal objecto nenhum de com- mercio ; e declarando elle que eram objectos de seu uso, vendo-se em todos a sua firma ; e sendo certo que alguns precedentes havia a tal respeito: paraceu-me que para fim tao justo, como o querir residir n'um paiz, cujo clima julgava proprio para o restabelecimento da saude de uma pessoa da familia, nao deveria eu deixar de seguir esses precedentes. A concessao foi foita : porem com as precaucoes neces- sarias, como a da condicao expressa de que, vindo a sair de Portugal, seria obrigado a reexportar os mesinos objectos, ou a pagar os direilos A LOCATION IN LISBON. 147 withdrawal had, m fact, been one incident in a Mmisterial intrigue, the object of which was to offend Saldanha, LouM, and others, and to make way for a complete " Cabrallista" Cabinet, an in- trigue mto which it was very amusing but very disgusting to see a stranger drawn. But how did our own people behave in this matter ? How did the representatives of England, who are paid so many thousands a year to pro- tect the interests of the supposed "Roman," who is not to be "whipped" in any part of the world, — how did they behave ? I was told by everybody that a material, tangible wrong having been done to me, it was the clear duty of our legation to have it redressed ; and the representa- tives of France laughed at the bare suggestion of a doubt whether they would permit a Frenchman to be so wrono-ed. I had brouo^ht a letter of in- troduction to our Minister, Mr. Henry Howard, when I came to Lisbon, and had been on terms of que na entrada se exigiriam, se por ventura nao hoiivesse tal con- cessao. Em taes termos foi que eu intendi fazar, e que fiz a con- cessao. Veio, porem, o men illustre successor, e julgou que devia revogar aquella determina^ao. Nao Ihe levo a mal a sua resolucao : mas tambem me parece que nao se devera levar a mal a que eu havia tornado, pois nas circumstancias que ponderei, e adoj^tadas as precau- coes que ja referi, nao julgo se possa dizer que eu estava inhibido de seguir os procedentes que encontroi." 148 A LOCATION IN LISBON. intimacy with his family ever since. I reported the case to him and asked for his interference. He expressed his disgust ; but said he did not think he ought to interfere officially. Mr. Smith, our British Consul-General, considering it some- what of a commercial matter, asked Howard to permit him, as Consul, to remonstrate with d'Avila, because he wished, at the same time, to charge him with his " dirty trick to Mr. Stod- daii:," who, having paid duty on an English piano, had been encouraged to change it for another by d'Avila's promise that the second should be ad- mitted duty free, — which duty he had made him pay again nevertheless. Mr. Howard desired the Consul not to move in the matter. My friend Mar- shall Duke of Terceira, took an apologetic message to Mr. Howard from d'Avila ; a message purporting that the latter only wished for some explanations from me, and would then issue another permis- sion, Mr. Howard replied that he did not intend to interfere in any way officially ; and conse- quently, when I sent the required explanation, d'Avila wrote to me in reply, that he should now adhere to his first decision. Mr. Howard called Tipon me and warned me that, happen what would in the matter, he would not move; and gave a A LOCATION IN LISBON. 149 large party, at which d'Avila was present, but to which we were not invited — the first omission since we had been at Lisbon. This is the way our English Ministers abroad back their countrymen ! Who would care ; what foreign Government would care for any opinion expressed by a man of the intellectual calibre of poor Mr. Howard, and of most of our foreign Ministers, when he had abdi- cated his official position and so deprived himself of the weight that might attach to his opinion if given as that of the English Minister ? These gentry are always above or beneath their position, from pride or imbecility. It is high time the country should enquire what salaries they draw for the fulfilment of duties which they neglect. I reported the matter between me and the Por- tuguese Government to Lord Clarendon, and re- ceived an assurance from the Foreign Office that "his lordship had called the attention of Mr. Howard to my complamt, and had instructed him to take such steps as he might consider the facts of the case to justify, with a view to procure for me redress." I had left Lisbon without waiting for this letter, which reached mc elsewhere. For the Marquez 150 A LOCATION IN LISBON. de Pombal had behaved most handsomely. Know- ing the conditions on which I had rented his palace, and hearing of d'Avila's misconduct, he did not convoke his conseille de famille to ratify the proposed lease ; and agreed to my suggestion that we should each put our copy of the agree- ment mto the fire, or into whatever is supposed to represent such a consummation at Lisbon towards the end of the month of May. The weather was getting very hot ; and we en- joyed the cool breezes of the Atlantic, which some think to disqualify Lisbon as a refuge for pulmo- nary invalids. I do not share their opinion. The winds of the Atlantic are, at all events, preferable to the icy north and east winds that scourge the Mediterranean shores of Italy. "Padi'e," said an Italian in confession, " I have to accuse myself, father, that I swore at the wind." " Beware, my son," said the priest. " Swear not at all — least of all at the works of God. But what wind was it that you cursed ?" " It was the east wind, padre," " Ah ! it was very wrong. But I own that that cursed east wind does very much try my own temper." CHAPTER XIII. SPAIN. DiflBculty of going to Spain. — L'Helvetie. — The Medical Lecturer. — Cadiz. A Spanish family. — Gibraltar. — Malaga. — A Bull-fight. It may be remembered that, when advised by Dr. Latham to take our daughter to a warmer cHmate for the wmter, I had selected to go to Lisbon because it was not on the road to anywhere else — ^because we should be obliged to return to England after the winter. The awful passage we had experienced in the Bay of Biscay on our voyage out, made us, however, shudder at the thought of returning by the same route ; and a friend in Lisbon — the Condessa Lavradio — so strongly recommended the mineral waters of the Pyrenees for lung complaints, that we resolved to cut the Bay of Biscay and go home southwards. Our butler — Stevens — and our Swiss nursery naaid 152 SPAIN. could not master the geography of our intended torn-, and begged to be sent to England du-ect. There remained only our Enghsh lady's-maid and French coachman, and those troublesome horses and carriage, which I so repented having brought with me. For I did not at all relish the idea of coasting the whole of Spain ; but, wished to reach Cadiz and Malaga from sea, to go from thence to Grenada, which Washmgton Irving had endeared to me, and thence visit Madrid, and follow a high road to the French frontier. But " Surgit amari aliquid, — tlie toll." I found that I should be required, on entering Spam, to leave a very heavy deposit at the Custom House, equal to the total value of the horses and carriage, but that an authorisation would be given me to claim back my money on presenting the receipt at the opposite frontier by which I should go out of the country. '•' Well, no great harm in that !" I exclaimed to a warning friend. " It is what I have often done in France." " Aye," he replied ; " but do not flatter yourself that you will have to deal with French custom- house ofticers. The Don will take your deposit SPAIN. 153 with the greatest pohteness, and will give you a receipt in due form ; but, when you present it at the northern frontier and ask for your money, his brother Don will shrug his shoulders, and say, no doubt truly enough, that he has not any ; and, if you remonstrate, he will swear at you and order you to drive on !" I inquired of several — even at the Spanish Legation in Lisbon — and was assured that such would probably be the course of proceeding. As the reader knows, I had been corresponding with Mmisters of Finance lately : my hand was m and my blood was up : and I wrote to Lord Howden, our Minister at Madrid, requesting him to obtam from the Spanish Government an authorisation for me to take my horses and carriage into Spain and across the country without paying either deposit or duty. My proposition seems to have surprised his lordship ; for, after informing me that he had made my application to the Spanish Government, his private secretary adds, " Lord Howden further desu^es me to state to you that he cannot answer for the result of this application, as the Spanish Minister of Finances may, not unnaturally, think himself offended by the suspicion involved in it." Not a bit of it ! My friends knew Spain better 154 SPAIN. than our Minister. Within a month, I had the honour of receivmg from his lordship the formal notification from the Primera Secretaria de Estado that the Minister of Finances authorised me to keep my hoi'ses and carriage for forty days in Spain without let or hmdrance. This would give me time to travel across the country. But though issued with great expedition for a State paper, it had not suited my purpose to wait for it. I was also led to prefer a sea voyage by finding a vessel that much pleased me. This was the screw steamer " VHelvetie" afterwards cele- brated in Garibaldi's expedition. It belonged to a French mercantile company, and was one of a fleet sailing between Havre and Marseilles. It was a large vessel — ^too large for that service — else it could not have been changed into an important member of the armed navy of Italy two years later ; and I willingly closed wdth its terms, and paid down 2,600 francs for our places. Our chil- dren — their number increased by the arrival of Constable, whom I had sent for from England and placed in the English College at Lisbon, when we had thought of passing all our winters there — our three boys and three girls — were deposited by me in their berths on the evening of the 2nd of SPAIN. 155 June, and I went to take leave of many kind friends who had gathered at one of the pleasant re- miions that were collected by the American Minis- ter — Mr. O'Sullivan — and his charming family. At half after ten o'clock on the following morn- ing, the 3rd of June, it was not without a feeluig of regret that we steamed down the beautiful Tagus, and passed Belem Castle ; and that the towers of Lisbon disappeared from our view. The vessel tiu^ned to the left hand, and we were ao^ain on the broad Atlantic. We had a noble vessel, mcomparably superior to the old tub, Tagus, which had brought us out ; and here oiu- horses were in boxes well suited to theu* size, and were in no danger of being murdered as poor Norfolk had been by the P. and 0. Company. M. le Capitaine Martin, the skipper of the Helvetic, was a very civil and pleasantly-conversible person. His siu-- geon, too, was a clever little fellow ; although he had been plucked at the Medical College of Mont- pellier ; and, in revenge, he loved to tell how the lecturer there, the most celebrated physician in France, used to conclude his course of lectures by saying to his class, " Gentlemen, I have told what you ought to do, according to the rules of art, in every illness ; Init my conscience obliges mc to 156 SPAIN. add, that I believe human life would be much longer and happier if there were no doctors in the world." There was Httle else to entertain us, as the ves- sel held her way out of sight of land, than con- versation and cookery ; our cuisine and fare w^ere good. We passed Cape S. Vincent during the night and in a high gale of wind. Next morning, we were steaming eastward, under a beautiful sky. Twenty-five vessels were in sight. The sea seemed made of dolphms, so thickly were they strewed over it, as they tumbled about and showed their glittering backs. A pilot came on board. He had just before led out the Spanish fleet bound for Mexico, and had led it on the rocks of Tro- cadero, by w^iich some of the vessels had been damao'ed ! We anchored in the excellent harbour o of Cadiz. I could not go on shore that afternoon, for my hat had been blown away durmg the gale ; and there was a difficulty in getting from the town a sotnhrero, as, I suppose, I ought to call a hat bought in Spain. Next mornmg, we took boat and landed ; and I own that the verses m Don Juan were jingling in my head : — SPAIN. 157 " I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz — A pretty town, I recollect it well — 'Tis there the mart of the colonial trade is, Or was, before Peru learned to rebel : And such sweet girls — I mean such graceful ladies, Their very walk would make your bosom swell : I can't describe it, though so much it strike, Nor liken it — I never saw the like." Now really there is little else to say of Cadiz. Its political history of late years had only connected it with Ferdinand VII and the holy alliance. The weather was disgustingly hot ; the glare of the houses painfully white ; no grand buildings ; no imposing monuments ; a fortified town amid tame scenery ; its streets di-awn out very much at right angles, tolerably clean, but every wall so glaring with whitewash that I turned for relief into a caffe. Lemonade and oranges were brought, apparently as a matter of course. We went to the cathedral and the church of N. S. de Carmel, and heard Mass. These were fine buildings ; their floors were covered with matting, on which various females knelt, or, rather, sat upon their heels, half concealed by their black veils. It was cer- tainly a becoming dress ; and their walk, as they tripped along the streets fan in hand, was more elegant than the tread of other women. They 158 SPAIN. did not show the soles of their feet, as most English women do, to those who walked behind them. We returned on board to dinner, and set sail at sunset. Our party was increased. Hitherto we had enjoyed the whole of the passenger-room on the Helvetic to om'selves ; but we now foimd amongst us an old Spanish lady, with her two grown-up sons, their chaplain, and several ser- vants. We dreaded annoyance ; but soon learned to congratulate ourselves on finding pleasant people, our intimacy with whom lasted long after- wards, and whom I should always meet again with pleasure. The mother was going to Mont- peher for her health. Don Juan Ponce de Leon y Gordon (there is a name for you, reader ! he quartered the arms of Castille and Leon, and of the English, or rather the Scotch, ducal house of Gordon) was going to Rome with his younger brother, who was studying for the church, and their chaplain. We should meet again. At half-past four next mornmg, I was on deck. The rock of Gibraltar was before me ; Ceuta on the right. " Why are we not in ?" I asked of an officer. SPAIN. 159 " Look at the deck ; the sea washed over it for three hours." We were becoming good sailors, for we had not been aware of the storm. At half-past six, we cast anchor. I sought out the camp of a Highland regiment, and found a cousin of mine on the sandy plain. With this officer, we spent the day. Under his guidance, we saw all that could be seen ; passed through the wondrous gal- leries ; drank lots of iced ginger beer ; then walked to the Alameda above the Victoria Bat- tery. Ape's Hill w^as in front — seen above the Tower of E-osea. The view was beautiful. The bay — or what seemed to be a bay — was more beau- tiful than that seen from Naples. I was very much delighted. And, although I was not pleased to see the fox-hounds kennelled close to the ceme- tery, I should have liked a day's sport amongst the partridges on the rock of the apes. We all returned and dined on board ; and again the ship steamed forth at sunset. Next morning before sunrise, we were anchored off Malaga. It was Sunday morning ; and as tlie mercantile pursuits of the Ilelvetie would cause us to spend all to-morrow here also, I had anti- cipated pleasure in becoming acquainted with a IGO SPAIN. place to which so many of our consumptive country- people are sent to die. The prospect, however, was not inviting. The town rose prettily enough from the water's edge, as all towns do ; but it afforded but a poor subject for a sketch. The hills behind it were rather bold ; but perfectly bare. They seemed to be made of ruddy brick-dust. There was nothing to tenijDt an artist either to sketch or to walk. I did sketch the place, how- ever ; and we all went on shore, and to mass at the Cathedral. The interior of this building is magnificent. Its choir is beautifully finished in chiselled marbles. But the heat was scorching in the streets, and the air seemed full of dust ; wliich, they told me, it always was, owing to the sa,nd momitains abounding in the neighbourhood. We returned on board ship ; but not imtil I had pur- chased, for four francs, a ticket to the amphitheatre, that I might witness a grand bull-fight, which was to take place that afternoon. I even then planned to write these pages. It was the only opportunity I should ever have of seeing a real Spanish bull- fight. I doubted not that it would be the last I should ever wish to see. I took my place in the fashionable circle of a large amphitheatre. It was thronged from the SPAIN. 161 bottom to the top with people of all classes ; but fashionable people were there ; fine ladies ; gentle, pretty-looking girls ; in fact, the cream of the population of a city containing forty-five thousand inhabitants. Let us see what was the amusement which allured them. I noted down the whole in a species of shorthand at the time ; and I now transcribe from the copy I made of my notes on the following day. Thank Heaven, gentle reader, if you are disgusted. I must not tone down a sickening and despicable picture in deference to youi" sensibilities. Let the Spaniard read a hteral description of the sport m which he delights ; and do you, more gentle reader, pray Heaven that even he may be as much disgusted as you are. The arena of the amphitheatre was fenced m by a high palisade ; mside this, was a passage, beyond and above which ran the tiers of seats and of spectators. At one end of the oval, arose the state box of the civil governor ; at the other end, but on the arena and in the palisade, were two large folding doors. They opened precisely at four o'clock ; and a number of riders cantered into the pit, as well as their wretched horses would do it ; for, truth to say, the horses w^ere wretched animals, fit only for the knacker's yard — or a Spanish 102 SPAIN. amphitheatre. The riders sat in high peaked saddles, their feet encased in stirrups made Hke sHppers ; on their thighs and legs, were strapped ■ strong greaves of wood to protect them from the horns of the bull ; in their hands, were heavy spears. Such were the six caballeros who awaited the onset. The folding doors opened, and in rushed : — I quote from my notes : No. 1 — A black bull : stared about him ; then rushed at one horse after another. The riders never attempted to ward off the attack, but turned the flank of the horse to receive the horns of the bull. He gored all the six horses, disem- bowelling some. The riders spurred the horses at him again. They limped up, dragging their guts on the ground, and treading on them with their hind feet. The bull was stupid. Laid him down. They stuck darts mto his neck as in Portugal, and roused him to his feet. Then entered the mata- dore in gay attire. With one arm, he distracted the bull's attention ; with the other, he pushed the darts aside, and stuck a short sword into the neck-bone of the bull. It fell dead. The band of musicians was heard triumphant. The folding doors opened. Some gaily caparisoned mules entered. Their traces were put round the neck SPAIN. 163 of the bull, and of five dead or dying horses, and, at a canter, they dragged them from the arena. Should this be called act the first or first round ? The company chatted, flirted, smoked, and ate oranges. No. 2 — Black and white bull. Gored and killed three horses. Two other gored horses hob- bled out. Matadore entered and tried to kill the bull. He struck many blows, missing the vital part. The bull ran round with three swords sticking in its neck before it fell. No. 3 — Red and white bull. One horse fell gored. Its rider forced it up. One of its fore legs was broken. Its guts were dragging on the ground. He beat it across the pit and out. The bull was struck by the matadore twice. It stag- gered to the side of the arena and fell. No, 4 — Black bull. It gored a horse. The rider dismounted. The horse ran without its rider all round the pit. Bull gored it again as it passed, (Aiyplause !) Bider caught it. Its guts were out, but he got on it again, (Thunder- ing cheers !) He flogged it up to the bull, but the bull would not touch it. Bider dismounted. Then, bull ujd to horse again ; gored it again ; horse fell ; rider came and took ofl" its saddle and 164 SPAIN. bridle ; bull gored it again, and it died. One other gutted horse was led away. Another was gutted, but the rider kept his seat while the bull turned away and made an onslaught on the first dead horse ; goring it three times more. This bull fell dead at the first blow of the matadore. No. 5 — Black aud white buD. The horse gutted by the last bull stayed on to receive this one, bTit could not bear up its rider. He dis- mounted. The horse was dragged towards the gate, and placed so as to be gored. It received the horns again, but was not killed, and was led away. A fresh horse and man were attacked, and both fell at once ; man seemed bruised and limped away, while the horse staggered up and kicked at the bull. The bull turned away and gored another, then came back to this one and gored it down. With more spirit than the others had shown, the Avounded horse got on its legs again, all its guts dragging on the ground. Thunders of applause uprose ! It was gored again and died. Meanwhile, a grey horse, better than most, was bearing its rider beside the paling ; the bull rushed forward ; the rider turned the side of the horse to the bull, whose horns seemed to pin it to the pales. The rider scrambled off and over the SPAIN, 165 j)aliiig, while tlie liovse was gored again and again. Cheers from the people I Another brown horse gutted, was lying on the ground with its head erect ; it looked at the bull as it passed, and the bull looked at it, but did not touch it. Next tmie the bull trotted past its head was lying flat on the sand ; the bull stopped and gored it again and again. This bull itself fell dead at the second blow of the matadore. The brown horse, before mentioned, was still alive and looked up. They flogged it, and tried to make it rise and go out of the arena. It could not rise ; so they i3ut a noo&e roimd its neck, and the richly-caparisoned mules dragged it away at a gallop. They then drew away, more leisurely, four others that were lying dead. No. 6 — Black and white bull. Three horses and riders only w^ere in the ring. A scarcity of horses was apparent ; and cries from the spectators arose for "more horses!" The bull gored two of these in succession. Thunders of applause arose, when the riders got up again, the horses' guts dragging on the ground. One was goi-ed again and obliged to go off. The other was gored again, but still kept the ring, ()nc of the three was not touched at all — horses were scarce. Then the 166 SPAIN. matadore came in. The sword was twice stuck in the bull's neck, and twice fell out of it. After two more stabs it fell. No. 7 — White and black bull. Only three horses were in the ring. The bull quickly gored two of them, then leaped over the paHsade. Its hind hoof, however, hung in the top woodwork long enough for the people in the passage to scramble off, amid much dread and shoutinof. At last, the bull was got over. Doors into the circus were opened, and it was turned again into the ring. But it would not face the horses. The first matadore came in to provoke it ; he jeered it ; he stuck darts mto it ; he struck its nose with his handkerchief ; he stuck two darts beside its tail ; at length he gave the fatal wound in the neck and fled, leaving the sword in the vertebrae. The bull staggered and fell dead. This matadore was said to be named Cuistard, of Madrid. The bull was given to him by the Civil Governor. He cut off one of its ears and threw it up in the air, trying to catch it, as it fell, on the point of his sword, but failed to do so. No. 8 — Red bull. But there seemed to be no more horses. The same three only were in the ring. One of these was already gutted. Its SPAIN. 167 rider flogged it up to the bull, striking its head with the butt end of his spear. It was gored twice, and the man got off. The bull then gored the other two, knockmg off their riders. They all mounted again. The bull attacked the white horse, and shoved off the rider ; he regained his seat ; the horse was again gored, and he again got off. Here were great cheers ! The other horse, overtired, gored, and unable to bear its rider, was led out ; but the white horse, left standing in the circus, was gored again and again. Then the matadores came m. They wounded the bull only, and the people rushed into the pit cheering and jeering at their awkwardness. But, suddenly, the bull seemed inclined to show fioht against them, and they all fled away. At last, it fell dead. From a window, I saw the dead horses lying together. I was told with pride that twenty-eight had been killed. Sunday, 7th June, 1857, Malaga, in Spam, thank God ! So end my notes. And so, thankmg God, not that such deeds are done in Spam, but that they are not done anywhere else, I leave this disgust- ing butchery. For, be it remarked, it is a mis- nomer to call this a bull-fight ; here is no fighting. The Hanks of the hoj'ses arc turned by the riders 168 SPAIN. purposely to receive the horns of the bull ; and the more the poor horse is mangled, the more are the spectators delighted. This is evident from the whole description I have given. They wo^^ld not even lessen the torture of the horse by having a knife drawn across its throat before its mangled carcase is drawn from the arena. The delight of the spectators was derived from the suffering of the horses — from the sight of their entrails draggling the ground and pulled out of their bodies by thek o\\ti hind feet, as they trod upon them. Faugh ! chapteh xiv. THE CALCUTTA. The Coast of Africa. — A Dream. — Second Sight. — Shipwreck. At five o'clock on the following afternoon we set sail for the coast of Africa. "Where did this event you are speaking of take place ?" I lately asked a lady. " On the coast of Africa." " But, my dear madam, the coast of Africa is a very indefinite description. Was it in the Avaters of the Mediterranean or of Madagascar ?" " On the coast of Africa," she repeated. And the Helvetie was carrying us to the coast of Africa. I shudder at the thought as I write ; and must account for my shudder by narrating the event of which we had been speaking. In the house of Charles, aftcr\\ards Sir Charles, D'Oyly, at Dacca, in tlie East Indies, his wife 170 THE CALCUTTA. Marian said one morning to the wife of Shearman Bii'd, who with her husband was staymg ■\\4th the D'Oylys, " I wish, Louisa, you would go down and make breakfast for Charles and Shearman ; I have been upset by a sad dream, and will come down later." The friend did as requested ; and, after break- fast, returned to the room of her hostess, who had not appeared. " Dearest Marian, you seem more distressed than you were before I went down. What is it that has so upset you ?" " I cannot get over it, Louie. I had such a vivid dream, in which I saw the Calcutta in dis- tress and my sister Julia floating on the sea waves. All her beautiful auburn hair was spread out roimd her shoulders in the water, and seemed like a net bearing her up. It has made a strong im- pression on me ; but now I have told you, I dare say I shall be better; so let us say no more about it. The friends went down together, and the matter was not again alluded to. Some w^hile afterwards, Mrs. Shearman Bu'd, joining the party before dmner, found them very grave and discussmg a letter just received, which THE CALCUTTA. 171 stated that anxiety was felt for the Calc^Uta, which had been passed at sea in distress, but had not been heard of, though due for some tune at the Cape, " But let us say nothing of it to Marian, as she is already alarmed about her sister," cautioned Mr. D'Oyly ; and, in expectation of her entrance, they changed the conversation and began talking on other matters. Mrs. D'Oyly entered the room. She looked at them and listened for a few moments in silence, then exclaimed : — " You think yourselves very clever, good people ; but your forced liveliness does not deceive me. You have had bad news of the Calcutta." In truth, the Calcutta never came to port. Many many years afterwards, a ship's crew, land- ing on the coast of Africa, found amongst the na- tives several women and children whose looks pro- claimed them to be Europeans, and who were proved, by a broken language they spoke, to be of English origin at least. An anxious inquiry was insti- tuted amongst them ; and it appeared, beyond a doubt, that they were remains of the crew and passengers of the ill-fated Calcutta — wrecked upon that shore. Every offer was made to convey 1 72 THE CALCUTTA. them to Europe or to India ; but these were posi- tively dechned. The unfortunate ladies said that they had formed ties, and had borne children in the wild country on which they had been cast ; that affection bound them to these, even if they had not dreaded to seek again their proper place in the society of Europeans. But where did all this happen ? " On the coast of Africa," replied the daughter of the Louisa Bird of the story. "It is evident," she said, " that Julia Arnott was washed over- board, or in some way drowned ; and that the Calcutta went ashore on the coast of Africa." CHAPTER XV. AFRICA. Oran. — Variety of Costumes. — Mount Atlas. — " Isidora." — Walter Scott.— Future Fame.— Old Vidal.— Lord Ex- mouth's Bombardment. — The French Consul and the Dey. — Algiers. — Tlie Arab Quarter. — An Arab Mansion. — The Kasbah. — Amount of Booty. At five o'clock on the following afternoon, we set sail from Malaga for the coast of Africa. It had been a great inducement to me to take passage by the Helvetie that she was bound to pass a day at Cadiz, Gibraltar, and Malaga ; and then to cross over to Oran and Algiers, on her way to Mar- seilles. So should I have an opportunity of seeing something new, and of taking a glimpse at a new quarter of the globe. It was a beautiful evening ; the sea as smooth as ice ; a bright starlight night. The following mommg was as lovely. Fine hills of Africa uprose before us. Desert rocky islands were in the foreground. At one o'clock after midday, we 1 74 AFRICA. cast anchor iii the Httle harbour of Oran. At five miles distance, is the beautiful natural and fortified harbom* of Messel Kebu-, in which the largest vessels can ride at safe anchor. A small town built up the two sides of a steep ravine, some fortifications, an old castle, the lofty and beautiful tower of a mosque — such is the aspect of Oran from the sea. I saw this, and gave directions that my carriage horses should be landed, that they might stretch their legs in a gallop and walk, while the Helvetic carried out her mercantile pursuits. Remembering the bru- tality of the first lieutenant of the Tagus, when I landed my dymg grey at Vigo, I was much gratified by the willing exertions of Captain Martin and all the crew, who had them put on shore, with my French coachman, without the slightest difficulty. I was very much interested in Oran. Never, not even in the streets of Vienna, had I seen such a motley mixtui'e of different nations and tribes. The French, in uniform of course, divided the population Avith the natives ; but these were of many different tribes, of many different garbs. Arabians and Jews, people from not distant Morocco, followers of the heroic Abd-el-Kader or AFRICA. 175 robbers of Beni-Amer — Moors and Turks — all mingled together and showed their different cos- tumes — gorgeous, dirty, and picturesque in the variety of their shape and of the colour. English- men also must have been there, then or hereto- fore ; for a little shoeblacking urchin, that emblem of civilisation whom the French carry with them wherever they go, lifted his little box, and, com- ing towards me, exclaimed, " Mousu I black your shoes ?" We walked on the outskirts of the town and then through some gardens to the grand mosque. The vegetation was wonderful. Even after Por- tugal, we were surprised at the luxuriance of the flowers and foliage. The mosque was a most interesting monument ; and we returned on board highly delighted that we had taken Africa on our road from Southampton to the Pyrenees. On the second day, our horses were brought back on board, and we steamed away from the little harbour of Oran, leaving our pilot and his man swimming in the still waters, into which they had been thrown by the upsetting of their boat. It was nothing doubted but that they would right both themselves and it. On the next morning, we were cutting through 1 7G AFRICA. a waveless sea — the coast of Africa at no great distance on our right — over which towered bold mountains, covered with snow — doubtless the eastern extension of the once mighty Atlas ; the range of the lesser Atlas broke up the country before it. Soon after midday we were at anchor in the harbour of Algiers. To me, of all people, this anchorage was most interestmg. No European could be indifferent to the beauty of the spot ; but it had historic and romantic interests to me, which it could possess to no other. For were not the concluding scenes laid here of my most interestmg novel, in three volumes, entitled, " Isidora, or the Adventures of a Neapolitan ?" Had I not introduced upon the scene Barbarossa, the then di'eaded Dey of Algiers, and the glorious expedition of Charles V against him ? Had I not identified myself with the times and the locality as those ever must do who write descriptions of such sphit- stirring events ? Poor Isidora ! How I loved her ! And how the book was admired and bepraised by reviewers, who had more sense than readers of these latter days, who prefer any trashy, sensational, or fashionable novel — any compound of unnatural sentiment, impossible AFRICA. 177 adventure, and tedious prosiness, to the most stiiTing scenes of real life. Well for him that Walter Scott wrote when he did ! Had he published m these times, he would, like me, have been praised by men of intellect and taste; would have sold his few hundred copies ; and would have been forgotten until some future age agam brought to light and fame that which was too good for his contemporaries. What a consolation it is to think all this ! What a popularity I shall have with some future generations! I once knew an old rogue named Robert Studley Vidal, of Corn- borough, in North Devon, whose delight for some years, was in thinking what a fine fellow he should be — what a dash he would cut after his death, w4ien I should have taken his name, and, with his little property added to my own, should rattle, four in hand, through the streets of Bideford. Having persuaded me to change my residence and pui'chase ua his neighbourhood in order to roiuid off his estate, he altered his mind and left his property to others ; but clogged with conditions which necessarily prevented all grati- tude, such as that they should ever bear his only name and his httle arms, under penalty of for- feiture to S. John's College, Cambridge. Per- haps I ought not to allude to this iniquity. There is a silly old saying which declares " de mortuis nil nisi bonum," the absurdity of which 178 AFRICA. some one demonstrated by translating it — "When bad men die, let all bemoan 'em." What, however, if future ages should be un- grateful for the bequest I make them of my " Isidora" f I shall have bequeathed as well as have expected in vain an inheritance. But I shall not have taken any one in. Tlien I, who was old enough to remember back to any period, however remote, bethought me, as I lay in the harbour of Algiers, of our own grand expedition against the Dey, when Lord Exmouth had bombarded his pretty town. It was a dreadful massacre, but did not efface the disgrace that weighed upon all Christendom for having so long permitted the existence of such a nest of pirates. Even the treaty with Lord Exmouth, by which the Algerians agreed never' more to make slaves of Christian captives, only scotched the snake ; did not kill it. For- tunately for the cause of civilisation, the bar- barians took hberties with France, which no powerful government could forgive ; and when, after many squabbles, outrages, threats and par- tial submission, the French Consul at Algiers went to pay his customary respects to the Dey on the 30th April, 1827, his Deyship most opportmiely boxed the consul's ears. AFracA. 1 79 So the world was told ! Perhaps it was not quite so bad ! Hussein Pacha was then Dey of Algiers. He had been educated as an artillery officer in the service of the Porte ; but, in consequence of some ebullition of his obstinate and violent temper, had gone and joined the troops of Algiers, His superior education and intelligence secured to him quick promotion. He was made prime minis- ter ; and after the death of the sovereign, was elected Dey in his place without bloodshed or opposition. Such an election had never been known in Algeria. He shut himself up in the fortress of Kasbah with a guard of Zouaves, in- stead of the hitherto all-powerful Janissaries ; was moderate in the exactions by which he increased his treasure ; and had reigned twelve years pros- perously before his unlucky quarrel Avith the French consul. " But I did not box M. Deval's ears," he said. " I liked him : he was gay and insinuating, and I thought he was attached to me. We were very familiar, and I treated him like a friend. When he came to pay me his usual official visit at the end of Ramadan, I complained to him that I had received no answer to four letters I had written to the King of France ; and, would you believe it ? he 180 AFRICA. replied ' The King of France has something else to do than to write to such an one as yon.' " I was surprised," continued Hussein Pacha ; ' ' my friendship gave him no right to be rude. I was an old man, and was to be treated with re- spect ; moreover I was Dey. I told Deval that he was forgetting himself. He continued to talk in a very unbecoming manner, and I exclaimed, ' Wretch, leave the hall !' " He would not stir ; but looked at me so mso- lently that, mad with anger, and, as a mark of contempt, I struck his face with my chasse- mouclie — my fly-fan. That is the real truth." Here then we are in the port of Algiers — every fortress surmounted by the tricolor-flag of France, which had so avenged the affront to its consul. From a wide basis on the sea-shore, the to\^Ti, embedded in the verdure of a pretty country, rises, terrace above terrace, and white as a chalk quarry, to the summit of the hill crowned by the Kasbah. The flat roofs, the Roman pines, the few spreading date trees, the luxuriant vegetation, the pinnacled mosques, and the torrid heat, all show that we are no longer m Europe. But when we land, the throng- of French soldiers and officers about the streets, the companies drawn out to exercise in the AKKICA. 181 square of Bab-el-Oued,the straight streets drawn at right angles to one another, and built of uniform architecture, over arcades like those of the E-ue de Rivoli — make us doubt whether we are not really on the northern side of the Mediterranean, and in a garrison town of France. All the lower part of Algiers has, in truth, been destroyed ; cleared away to make room for French architecture and wide streets. Here are French sho]3s, French cafes, French people — everything French ; except that Moorish woman in her picturesque, many- coloured, many-folded dress with flowing veil over her shoulders, and kerchief carefully drawn over her mouth and the lower part of her face ; and except many a tall, dirty Arabian of the male sex, looking as one may imagine a conquered Arab to look in the altered streets of his once impregnable town. The Arab quarter, as it is yet called, still rose, however, beyond the modernised lower streets ; and this quarter I hastened to clamber over, although warned that a walk there would not be unattended with danger. A very labyrinth of lanes twisted about and crossed one another in every direction ; so narrow that four persons could scarcely walk abreast through them ; while they were, in many places, arched over at the top, so 1 S-2 AFRICA. that the houses seemed all to touch each other, and to form one mass of ruin, through which and amongst which the wretched inhabitants burrowed, rejoicing that they were, at all events, shaded from the heat of the sun. The road of the Kasbah was the only one that seemed somewhat less irregular ; but from this, every now and then, steps descended on either side into some gloomy ravine, or what would have been a gloomy ravine but for the whitewash so liberally bestowed upon every wall twice a year ; and which, by the bye, must be a great check to fevers and infectious diseases. And yet, every now and then, a half open door into what seemed, from without, to be a tall ruinous barn or warehouse, showed a luxurious mansion amid this mass of ruins. Within the door, was an arched gateway with a stone seat on each side where, I was told, the head of the establish- ment sat and transacted business with strangers. " Her husband is honourable m the gates, when he sitteth among the senators of the land." — Prov. XXX. I went beyond this porch in more than one instance, and there I found an open court paved with marble or coloured stones, and around which ran a colonnade of slim pillars of white marble. AFIUCA. 183 Oil wliicli the first floor rested, and above which was another open gallery resting on similar pillars. The windows, that were missing in the dirty streets, looked into these pretty courts, and a curtain, stretched across at the top, kept off the burning rays of the sun. I was told that the inner aj)artments in general are very large — long, but not wide : — that one of these is the general living room of the family ; that at one end of most of the rooms, is the trel- liced gallery of cages raised four or five feet from the floor, in which the Arabs place their beds. — N.B. I have described them in poor Isidora ! Nothing, however, can exceed the richness of these rooms. The walls are hung with damask silk ; the brick floors are covered with the richest car- pets, and the ceilmgs are of carved wood, beauti- fully painted. The roofs of the houses bemg flat, are often surrounded with trellice work, and covered with creeping plants and flowers, so as to form a private but airy garden for the Algerian ladies — who, poor things ! never go out shoj^ping. I went up to the Kasbah ; by the same long, winding, steep, irregular street, up which the French had dragged their artillery after the cjipitulation of Algiers — knocking down a liit of 184 AFRICA. wall hei'e, or a buttress there, as the carriages struck agamst either side. A colonel with a small detachment had gone ahead while the ruins were being cleared away. His approach was seen from the Kasbah, and the Dey precipitately withdrew ; his slaves and servants followed his example — carrying away whatever they could lay their hands on in their fright, and which was afterwards picked up by the Jews, There was no disturbance to the troops as they went along, for a convention had been draw^n up by the conquerors, and carried and proposed to the Dey by a brave parlementaire who, however, died of the fright and danger to which he had thereby exposed himself; — died in the hospital, neglected and unrewarded by his govern- ment. The troops had not been molested in their advance through the to\Mi ; the shops, indeed, were shut, but the traders sat quietly in front of them, as if waiting till they could open them agam. The Turks and Moors went about with more appear- ance of indifference than of fear. Mussulman women peeped through their lattices ; Jewesses, who are the handsomest race in Algeria, thronged their terraces and looked dowTi on the soldiers. Not a native soldier or sentmel was seen ; those who had families had gone to their homes ; those AFRICA. 185 who had not, had retired to their barracks. They had all fought bravely against overwhelming odds, and now submitted with Turkish fatalism to the decrees of Providence, The Kasbah in which the Dey had resided, and where the French commander-in-chief took up his quarters, was neither a palace nor a fortress. It was an irregidar pile of buildings enclosed by a high wall ; castellated, Moorish fashion, and showing wondrous long cannon, with muzzles painted red, from many a porthole and embrasure. The French debouched from the narrow road and found themselves before its main entrance. This was a heavy gateway without other ornament than that which would be ever most prized in such a clunate — a marble fountam which threw water beautifully clear and cool into a gracefully-sculp- tured vase. A narrow passage beside the stables led to the principal court of the divan ; by the bye, does the phrase " going to court" imply that our sovereigns formerly received in such ? This court of the divan was large ; was paved with marble, and surrounded by a covered piazza or arcade, that rested on Moorish columns of white marble. In the court was a magnificent citron-tree and a little fountam from which sprung a thin jet d'eau. 186 AFRICA. One side of the covered arcade was more orna- mented than the others, and ghttered with mirrors of every shape and country. A raised seat or bench ran from one end to the other ; and, at one part, was covered with scarlet cloth richly fringed. Here it was that the Dey used to hold his divan, distribute justice, receive foreign consuls or mer- chants ; and here it was that occurred the famous scene of the fly-Hicker. In all this arcade, there was no other furniture, if we except some Smyrna carpets, a clock set in a gilt bronze frame, a little writing table, in the drawers of which was a Koran, some boxes of perfumery, and an almanac, or roll of parchment four feet long by about three inches wide, on which, in Arabian letters, were written the months of the Hegira with apposite verses of the Koran, and the whole surrounded with beautiful arabesques in gold and the brightest colours. There was also in the gallery a mahogany table which bore an Enghsh barometer. At the further end of the gallery, was an iron door with enormous locks, which led to the treasury. This was composed of three corridors divided into bms without wmdows, and in which were heaped up coins'of every country, from the boudjou of Algiers to the grand four-dollar piece of Mexico. AFEICA. 187 All around this principal court of the divan, were the other dependencies of the palace — halls and warehouses, stables, and little gardens stocked with ostriches ; a kiosk ; a mosque ; an armoury ; a menagerie with some lions and tigers ; a large powder magazine, the domed roof of which was made bomb-proof by a double covering of bales of wool : piles, too, of shot and shell were there — the whole being enclosed by a wall some forty feet high, behind the parapet of which were nearly two hundred pieces of artillery, carefully painted green and red, the colours of the Dey, and one half of which pointed to the country, while the other half domineered the town itself, and gently hinted submission and obedience. One brutal French general, after taking posses- sion of the Kasbah, found his amusement in plucking alive all the many ostriches which, as I have said, had lived, petted, in those little shady gardens ; and to others who were shocked at the piteous cries which the poor animals sent forth as he skinned them, the home-sick general always exclaimed " My little Anais will be pleased with these !" The anecdote was so well known that it became a catch-word in the army when any one plundered or did any particularly inhuman act : — 188 AFEICA. " My little Anais will be pleased with this !" said the soldier. The apartments of the Dey and his harem were on the second floor, and the western side of the Kasbah. A little wooden staircase, painted red and green, hke all the woodwork about the palace, led to a gallery, with large Turkish windows looking into the court of the divan, and openmg into three large rooms, in which he lived ; and, at the end, into a little kiosk, in which Hussein used to take his coffee and smoke his pipe after giving public audience. Under the kiosk, was a low door leading to the harem : this consisted of two courts around which were chambers and baths, and all the requisites for the comfort of the ladies. These rooms, however, had no windows towards any public part of the palace ; what they had were all barred, and overlooked the private garden only ; while a few narrow long slits in the walls, like shot-holes, gave gUmpses of the distant sea and country. The furniture of the harem was more sumptuous than elegant. It had neither the taste of the French nor the cleanliness and pro- priety of the English ; but piles of the richest carpets were thrown m heaps about the brick floors ; gold and silver tissues of every variety ; AFRICA. 189 cushions of every shape and every size, in velvet and in cloth enriched with Arabian embroidery ; lookmg glasses without end ; heavy mahogany tables, loaded with ornaments of gilt bronze ; beds surrounded with Indian muslin gnat-nets em- broidered with gold flowers ; sofas and divans everywhere ; and the whole overlaid by an atmo- sphere heavy with perfumes of rose, jessamine, musk, and aloes. In these rooms of the harem, were numerous toilette-tables ; httle boxes and dressing-cases of precious Asiatic woods, adorned with mother of pearl, amber, ivory, and ebony ; vases of China and Japan beyond all price ; and an incredible quantity of httle comical bits of furniture, of which the new French owners could not imagine the use, but which they sujDposed to have been made to satisfy the ennui and childish fancies of the voluptuous and fantastic inmates. The apartments of the Dey himself were much more simple, and had bare whitewashed walls. Carpets and divans were the only furniture; pipes, arms, English clocks, and marine telescopes were all that the conquerors found in them. But the arms were of an inestimable price. Some of the officers of the staff* divided amongst themselves muskets enriched with pearls and coral ; sabres 190 AFRICA. with gold and silver scabbards. But what of that ? Had not their predecessors of the empire gathered memorials of victory from Lombardy and Tuscany ; from tlie Cathedrals of Toledo, Grenada, Burgos, and Valencia ; from Swabia, Bavaria, Saxony, and Bohemia ? Thus, then, were the head-quarters of the French established in the scarcely-evacuated home of the deys ; and, as the new comers saw all the rich barbaric civilisation around, they con- gratulated themselves that they had shown some moderation in their treaty with Hussein, who was known to be less inclined to surrender than to fight to the last and then blow up the Kasbah with all its treasures (as he had already done with Fort Sultan-Kalessi), and to cut his way through the French force w^ith the remainder of his own brave troops. Great was the delight of the French on finding one hundred and sixteen thousand kiloOTams of gold and silver in the Kasbah ; and in calculating that the value of this, and of the artillery and goods warehoused in the palace, paid all the ex- penses of the war, and left them a balance in hand of about three hundred thousand pounds sterling. While the historian will smile at a AFRICA. 191 calculation so like one that might have justified to the dey himself one of his own piratical expe- ditions, the moralist will rejoice that, on whatever terms, a nest of robbers has been smoked out, and the north of Africa restored to civilisation. I returned at night-fall from the Arab quarter without having experienced, from the poor broken- hearted and gypsy-looking population, any of that molestation to which I had been told that I ex- posed myself. CHAPTEE XVT. THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. The Great Mosque. — Shopping. — Climate of Algiers. — The Balearic Islands. — Marseilles and old acquaintance. — Prosperity of France. — Aix. — Eating and Washing. — La Crau. — The new Archbishop. — Aries. — The Giant Bones. — The Man Market. — Nimes. — The Wisdom of Doctors. — Montpellier. — The Pig Market. — Silly Bees of Narbonne. — Cheap tea, — Street Processions. — Cafes et Billards. — Battle of Muret. — Approach to the Pyrenees. I SPENT little time on board during the two days that the Helvetie lay in the harbour of Algiers, All was new and attractive and interesting on shore. We wandered long in the gardens ; de- lighted with the glorious vegetation, which was even more splendid here than at Lisbon or Oran. Shade, to be sure, was not to be had in sufficient extent ; but this could always be secured when we turned our steps back towards the town ; and, even here, we could not but prefer the narrow cool alleys of the old Arab masters, to the wide handsome streets made by the French — flaring and scorching with sun, and reflection, and refrac- THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 193 tion. The great mosque was beautifully cool. This is a very large hall supported by numerous massive pillars, at the foot of which, here and there, solitary Mussulman devotees crouched upon their carpets. We went through it silently and unobtrusively — having thrust our feet into slip- pers provided at the door — and were rewarded by the thankful looks of the worshippers. "Sa- lum Aleikum," exclaimed an Arab woman to us as we came out. Very different were the looks and manners that greeted two Frenchmen who stalked about the mosque with all the insolence of victorious vulgarity ; talking loud and spurn- ing the noiseless slippers that were offered to them. I was much interested, too, in a Court of Jus- tice which I found open, and where a cause was being heard in the native language, and with ceremonial judiciously combined from the habits of the conquered and of the conquering race. In- deed whatever acts of barbarity (such as the roasting and stifling a whole tribe in a cavern, as was done by Colonel, now Marechal, Pelissier) the French may have committed, they have been most anxious to conciliate the Algerians, and to make their rule beneficial to the country.* * Let us give the Colonel's own version. A tribe of Arabs, routed 13 194 THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. But more interesting than all, to my wife and daughters, were the frequent visits they j^aid to the little native shops and booths, laid out with glittering Arabian necklaces and ear-rings, and bracelets of coral intermixed with little Turkish coins of gold or seeming gold ; or of rosaries made in a similar style, for those who would blend such nicnackery with their piety. The French had built, for their new subjects, a bazaar in their own style ; where the Moorish salesmen sat cross- legged in their stalls, surrounded by glittering trinkets and hanging benouzes, haiks, and sarmahs. The principal mosque, converted into a Catholic cathedral, is still a handsome building ; and here we all attended divine service on the Sunday morning. The congregation was, of course, well in the open plain, had iied, as always, to wide natural caverns. As troops could not venture within, he fired faggots at the mouth of the cave : then offered to let the fugitives go free, if they would leave arms and horses. They refused. More faggots were fired. A great tumult was heard underground : some clamouring to svu-render, othere preferring to die. Again they were urged to come out. They re- fused. Some women would have done so and fled : they were shot down by the tribe. The Colonel sent a French envoy. They fired at him. Faggots and more faggots were then thrown on. The smoke drifted inwards towards the shrieks and the moans of the fugitives. Then all was silent. Five hundred dead bodies were found in the caverns. The whole Dahara submitted. Patriot Arabs never again fled to caverns, whence they had always set Turks and French at defiance. THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 195 dressed and of the more well-to-do classes, as poor Frenchmen do not emigrate. The heat was intense, as we threaded our way through the crowd ; nine o'clock in the morning and three after midday being the hottest periods at Algiers. The thermometer stood at 24 Reaumur — 84 Fah- renheit — in the shade ; where I now write, in Tuscany, it marks 100 m the shade and 80 at midnight. Wliat may one not come to at last ! How I hate hot weather ! The heat, however, does not last long at Algiers. The north wind from the Mediterranean, or the west wind blowing from the snowy ridge of Mount Atlas, much re- freshes panting existence ; and the winters are so mild that Algiers is becoming much frequented by invalids from more northern climates. The attraction for many is, also, the character of the town — a httle mihtary capital, perfectly French, and with every convenience and, perhaps, better society than could be found in the hise-hlown towns of the south of France. Before midday, we weighed anchor and steamed away from these pretty hills. Two Russian fri- gates were alongside of us, and these had con- tributed much to the gaiety of Algiers ; as the French military bnuds had played every evening, 196 THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. instead of three times a week, since their arrival. The French were then bent upon making them- selves agreeable to Russia. We steamed onwards with a good breeze ; and I found that Capitaine Martm had secured a cargo of nine hundred sheep, which he had eno^ag-ed to deliver at Marseilles for five francs per head — no bad payment. This was to be the longest stretch of water we had passed over since Lisbon ; but even this was diversified. At sunrise next morning, we were ofi* Port Mahon. A fine outline of rocks rose on our left hand — the highlands of the Balearic Islands, Minorca, Majorca, and Ivea. Again we were quite at sea — out of sight of all land. But these usually-boisterous waters were placid to us ; and at four o'clock in tlie morning of the second day after leaving Algiers, we were in the harbour of Marseilles. It was not the first time that I had landed at Marseilles ; and even the Custom House people were amused at seeing the same carriage landed from Africa, which, little more than two years before, they had received from Italy. The Com- missionaire greeted me as an old acquaintance ; asked eighty francs for passing it, but took only twenty ; while the examiners of the douane opened only one of our many boxes. All these I con- THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 197 signed to a j^ortage company to be conveyed to Toulouse ; here, too, they had asked me twenty francs for one himdred kilos, but were satisfied to take seven. We had a friendly parting with the skipper of the Helvetie ; on whose excellent boat we had passed fourteen very pleasant days. My wife and daughters got mto oiu" britska, the three boys and a servant mto a cab, and away I drove from the filthy port of the Joliette to one of the nasty hotels of the town. " If Paris had our Rue de la Canabiere, it would be a httle Marseilles," say the conceited inhabi- tants of the latter splendid city. Splendid, but disagreeable. I hate all commercial cities, where everybody else has something to do and one feels quite out of place. So, after eatmg a bad break- fast and doing a little shopping, and sending off my three boys and servant by diligence to Aix, I again took whip in hand and di'ove out in the same direction. But what a flourishing country this France had become since I had known it years ago — before the second Empire ! Flourishing, at aU events, in appearance. The passing traveller could not tell by what state, parochial, or personal mdebted- ness the a[)pearance of prosperity was brought to 198 THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. public buildings, fields, or roads. It was a plea- sant tri|), that afternoon drive to Aix ; and 1 gladly saw again the cloud of steam, hovering over the fountain of hot water that rises in the centre alley of the promenade, that had dehghted my boyhood. We staid three days at Aix to repose ; and if the reader be human, he will also understand that it was requisite to have the family linen washed. It is said, and truly, that Walter Scott never omits recording that his personages took their meals. I do not remember that he ever mentions that they were detained by the requirements of the laundress. I have always liked Aix — a well- built nice quiet tow^i in a pretty country — well suited, I should say, to English who seek a good clunate and economy. It was the octave of Cor- pus Christi ; and although the Festival itself, like other festivals of the church, is kept, in France and in Piedmont, and in countries where time is of value, on the Sunday succeeding, yet pretty pro- cessions were organised by the different parishes and schools during these pleasant summer after- noons. Popular Cantiques were sung ; and the ears of green corn, vine branches, and flowers, whicli were sometimes carried around the Blessed THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 199 Host, poetically showed the faith, liope, and grati- tude of the people. Between Aix and Aries, lies the miserable stony flat called La Crau — perfectly desert and appa- rently nncultivatable — although 40,000 sheep are said to find a wretched existence amid its forty square leagues of pebbles. I do not believe it ; because it requires something like decent pasturage to mamtain half a sheep to the acre. The new Archbishop was making his first public entrance mto Aries, attended by the clergy of the diocese, troops, civil authorities, and everything that could add importance to a high dignitary of the Church and State. A silken canopy was up- borne on eight gilt staves to shelter him from the sun ; but, with a clever appreciation of the spirit of the people, he walked a couple of paces before it. " II lie va jKis sous le dais /" I heard one woman exclaim to the other. " C'est hon ! Le hel liomme ! — He does not walk under the canopy ! That's right. What a handsome man !" Everybody knows that Aries is one of the towns in the south of France, most interesting for its remains of Roman antiquities — although the more the Government have dug at these, the more ruined they appear. Here are theatre, amphi- 200 THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. theatre, and catacombs; and here, too, under our Hotel du Nord, were catacombs or cellars, which, I confess, interested me more than the undoubtedly Homan remains. For what were these ? The walls and vaultmg were evidently Roman ; but the piles of human bones, interspersed with strings or necklaces of ivory beads, w^hence could they have come ? And the bones were declared to be, and appeared to be, above the size of modem mortality. I took away one ivory bead from amongst them, which I carried in my purse for many years as a memento mori. The bones are fast disappearing m the carpet bags of English travel- lers, who, the hotel-keeper told me, seldom leave without taking some away with them. Evidently, therefore, the bones are not those of Christian samts ; or they would have been denounced and spurned as relics that could not be preserved with- out wickedness. The square before the hotel, next Sunday morning, was as thickly crowded as the crowd could stand. I was told that it was the " Marche aux Hommes — the man market." That from break of day, here had congregated some two thousand labourers, about half of whom succeeded in hiring themselves out to farmers for three days' THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 201 harvesting, at the wages of two to three and a half francs per day and their food. Good wages, had the hu^ing been for a longer period. Over a bridge of boats and a suspension bridge, over Rhone and rail, and through clouds of dust and such wind as alone make this country unde- sirable, I drove to Nimes, its beautiful capital : — beautiful in its public gardens, which seem as if laid out to receive the temples and remains of antiquity, some of which are unequalled in Italy — the Maison Carree and the amphitheatre. That night, we slept at a waggoner's inn — the best in the large town of Lunel ; and paid the bill, headed " Note de la famille Anglaise." The same uninteresting flat country continued imtil, on the following morning, we entered Montpellier. When it had been decided at Lisbon that we should take our invahd daughter to the waters of the Pyrenees, we had been advised to consult some physician of the famous school of Montpellier, as to which of the many springs we should select. I therefore sent for a Dr. Combal, who had been highly recommended to me. He came to us that evening at the very excellent Hotel du Midi ; and manipulated, and thumped, and stethoscoped, and looked as wise as all doctors do. How the silliest 202 THE SOUTH OF FHANCE. of them acquire tliis trick of looking wise, I do not know. Dr. Combal, however, was really a sensible man. He said he must see his patient again next day ; and did so twice. At his thhd visit, he recommended the waters of Cauterets ; and put into my hands a detailed account of her case, according to the habit of French physicians, for the guidance of the doctor at the baths. The people of MontpeUier complamed much that English people no longer frequented their town as of yore. Our countrymen have, indeed, found out that, however mild the chmate may be, the cold wmds of the bise and north-east are unde- sirable for pulmonary patients ; and railroads have now opened up to them the more distant countries and worse climates of Italy, which they can reach with little fatigue. MontpeUier, however, is an excellent town ; and the Place du Peyrou and the view from its terrace is grander than any public walk I have ever seen. Imagine, however, the enjoyment of walking with the thermometer at 92 in the shade ! It had only stood at 84 at Algiers. We started on our journey to Cauterets. The very unpicturesque and uninteresting surface of France became more diversified as we got nearer THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 203 its confines, and, before reaching Beziers, our eyes were gladdened with the distant view of the snow- clad Pyrenees — grander than Mount Atlas, but not equal to the Alps. There was a great pig market at Beziers, and the pigs were sold ahve and by weight. Imagine, therefore, the harmony that filled the square in front of our hotel as the " black animals," as Itahans call them, were hoisted, screeching and squeaking, into the scales and out again. We passed the great canal du Midi, as they call the canal du Languedoc, and through more barren and then marshy ground, arrived at Narbonne. The name of some places impresses one with a pleasant idea, and I had fancied Narbonne in anti- cipation — I suppose because its honey is famous. What can have induced the foolish bees to settle themselves in such a nasty desert coimtry as that around Narbonne, I do not imagine ; and the town itself is a miserable old place. Its Hotel de France is either tolerable, or rascally dear, as the humour of the day affects landlord and waiters. The cathedral is handsome ; and, in trying to find anything else interesting, I hunted all over the town for some tea. At last, I was able to find a shop that sold me for Ifr, GO, five grammes or 204 THE SOUTH OF FKANCE. one sixth of an ounce — being at the rate of one hundred and forty shillings a pound. I gladly left Narbonne with my prize. And so, on and on, we continued our journey, sometimes through tiresome flats, and sometimes over pretty hills — offshoots from the distant Pyrenees. We were at Carcassonne on Sunday morning ; and I thought the people did not seem to like that, before the prmcipal service at the cathedral, the clergy formed themselves into a procession and passed out of one door, through a street or two, and in at another door of the church. E-ehgious processions in the streets are, very properly, forbidden by the laws in France ; and it would be better if the friends of rehgion would conform to those laws and content them- selves with worshipping inside their churches. Then, at night, the hills about Castelnauderie were lighted up with bonfires in honour of St. John and of the harvest-home. My little boys, with my coachman and servants, always travelled by railroad or diligence, and met me, who drove the carriage with my wife and daughters, every even- mg at our destined place of rest, so that the journey was pleasantly and easily done. We al- ways slept at large towns, and found tolerable THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. 205 accommodation and civility at whatever half-way house we stopped to bait in the middle of the day. The only bad impression which was pro- duced on me in this intimate acquaintance with country towns and villages of France, was pro- duced by the number and increasing number of cafes and billiard tables in even the smallest vil- lages. In the smallest towns, I have seen cafes fitted up with a dozen white marble tables for different guests, and two or three billiard tables ; and every Frenchman with whom I spoke on the subject lamented this growing taste for Avhat we should call pot-house life. A cup of coffee does not intoxicate and may not cost much ; but a cup of coffee or of liqueurs, a cigar and a game of billiards, take no immaterial part of a labouring man's wages, and withdraw him from home. His wife and children may fare as they can ; his plea- sures, his'Society, are elsewhere, I did not like Toulouse ; no doubt it is a large handsome town, and will have fine boulevards when the trees are grown ; but a large fair was going on. I had difficulty m finding accommoda- tion at any hotel ; and, in short, the town impressed me unfavourably ; and I turned due south next day and went and slept at Muret. Who knows 206 THE SOUTH OF FRANCE. now of the great battle of Muret, when, encouraged by a prophecy of St. Domenic, Simon de Montfort issued from the Httle town with his twelve hun- dred followers, and totally routed the hundred thousand men led on by the Count of Toulouse and the King of Aragon, who remained, with fourteen thousand slain, on the field of battle ? Other such victories are recorded in histoiy as having occurred in other lands and in other centuries, and are deemed glorious feats ; but the victory of Muret is sneered at because it was foretold by a saint, and because it was achieved over the Albi- genses, as the Manichees of Languedoc were called ; • — modern Manichees, whom our good, ignorant fellow-countrymen think to have been Protestants. Like their eastern prototypes, they believed in a good and a bad Creator; a good and a bad Chnst; denied the resurrection ; and behoved m the trans- migration of souls. Funny Protestants, truly ! The weary road through the weary plain con- tinues to St. Gaudens, where, at length, the coimtry begins to be diversified. At Montrejean was one of those quiet inns — with theh front to the street and their back to a garden, a hill side and, lower down, a stream — which one occasionally meets with in travelling ; and to which commend me THE SOUTH OF FKANCE. 207 rather tlian to the most luxurious caravansaras in Paris or London ; where your personal individu- ality merges into the number of your apartment, where you only think of number one, and the waiters only know you as number two or number two hundred. Bagneres de Bigorre came next, and here we were, at once, m a busy little watering- place, full of hotels, shops, stalls of nic-nackery, saddled donkeys, and English visitors. On the following morning, I drove to Lourdes, to the beautiful valley of Argeles, and there entered a Pyrenean defile ; and on a road overhanging a brawling torrent, and itself overhung by toppling crags, clomb my way to Cauterets, and pulled up at the Hotel des Princes. CHAPTEE XVII. CAUTERETS. Drinking and Bathing. — La Raillere. — Modern French and the Queen of Navarre. — The Bad-Hole. — The Doctors and the Sore Throat. — The Doctor and the Lungs. — Progress of Medicine. — Lac de Gaube. — Pleasant Walks. —The Pic du Midi.— The Cagots.— The Republic of Luz, and its Finances. — Bareges. — Madame de Maintenon. Cauteeets is a scrambling little town of hotels and lodging-houses, built on each side of a narrow street near the head of a stony ravine, down which tumbles a noisy torrent of melted snow. The ravme is closed in, about three miles higher up, by a bare mountain, m the crevices of which some patches of snow still lingered, and, indeed, linger all the year round. I found a tolerable apartment in the little High street, the Rue de la Raillere, at thirty francs a day for the first month and twenty francs for the second ; and we all began drinking the waters of La Eaillere early in the morning ; and our invahd began taking the CAUTEPvETS. 209 hot baths under the direction of Dr. Bonnet de Malherbe. These she continued for some time, apparently gettmg worse ; but we were told that such was the effect of all these baths — that it was necessary to get worse before you got better. After three weeks, Dr. Bonnet apparently thought her bad enough ; and told us that the waters could do no more for her. He had paid six visits, and I sent him forty francs. He wrote and de- manded forty francs more, which I sent hmi. The usual fee of a French provincial physician is three francs each visit. A girl also had offered herself as housemaid ; and had asked five francs per day. But to drmk the waters of La Baillere was a more pleasant occupation than bathing. This spring is situated about one mile from the town, nearer the mountains. A good road leads to it ; and eight omnibuses go backwards and forwards to carry the drinkers. Donkeys, also, are to be had in plenty ; and, altogether, an animated scene is presented by the rush of visitors early in the morning around the healing tap. But earlier still in the morning, the waters are served out in buckets to the stallions of the different royal haras in France, which are sent to a 210 CAUTERETS. veterinary establishment here to recruit their strength, get fat, and lose their coughs. It is curious that the different guides and descriptions of the Pyrenees say nothing of this horse-doctoring. It is needless to say that the vast majority of the frequenters of these baths are French people. English come occasionally ; but the baths of the Rhine are easier for them to attain. The French have, of late years, come to think a few days at the seaside or at mineral springs necessary to restore their digestions and spirits ; and they rush to the Pyrenees as abounding in sulphur springs and magnificent scenery. This fashion has been growing upon them since the time of Margaret, queen of Navarre and sister of Francis the First. That accomplished and learned Princess has left an account of one of her visits to Cauterets, sur- rounded by the poets, minstrels, and ladies of her Court. She gave the name of Fontaine cV Amour to the spring she most preferred ; and amused herself, from the first of September when, she says, "the waters of the Pyrenees attain their greatest vktue. At that time," she continues, " there were many people at Cauterets from France, Spain, and elsewhere ; some to drink the waters ; some to bathe ; the others to tramp in CAUTERETS. 211 mud ; all which produce such a wonderful effect, that invalids, given over by their doctors, return quite well. When our time for returning, how- ever, arrived, it seemed as though the Almighty had forgotten the promise made to Noah — that the earth should not again be destroyed by water — for all the huts of Cauterets were so mundated that it was impossible to live in them. " The French lords and ladies, who thought that they could get back to Tarbes as easily as they had come, foimd the smallest streams so swollen that they could scarcely cross them. But when we had to pass the Gave of Beam, which, as we went, had not been two feet deep, it was so increased that everyone dispersed to seek the bridges ; and these, having been of wood, had been carried away by the flood. Some took to the mountains, and crossed to Aragon, Bous- sillon, and so to Narbonne. Others tried to pass through the woods, and were devoured by the bears. The Bector of St. Savin received us, and gave us shelter, and procured for us excellent horses, good Beam cloaks, plenty to eat, and clever guides." The royal blue stocking then goes on to describe their way of living while they waited for the 212 CAUTERETS. waters to decrease ; and how they spent their time between exercises of devotion, reading pious books, and teUing indecent stories in the manner of Bocaccio, There are many charming walks and excursions to be made in the neighbourhood of Cauterets ; and one can scarce follow any of the ravines com- ing down from the mo un tarns, without being re- warded by the discovery of some pretty scenery or wild and romantic spot. There is a most pic- turesque cascade amid some rocks wildly tumbled together about a mile below Raillere ; and, close to this, rises one of the most powerful springs of the coimtry. Its efficacy is proved by the fact that the peasantry of the neighbourhood, and even from Spain, throng here to collect the water as it trickles from a slit in the rock. They are said to be efficacious in gastric complaints, as those of the Raillere are for the lungs. This wild spot is called " Mahourat," which, in the language of the country, means " bad hole." And yet it was to this bad hole, where there is scarce footing for two people, between the rock and the ravine, that a consultation of Paris physicians sent their dean of the Faculty, M. Orfila, to take baths ! The doctors of the Pyrenees were obliged to CAUTERETS. 213 admit tliat, in this one instance, they could not efiect the prescribed cure. It was a mortifying admission, unwillmgly made by gentlemen as ready to swear by their several springs as Dr. Quackleben was by St. Ronan's well. Each one, however, only swears by his own particular spring. A Frenchman, suffering from a throat complaint at Cauterets, went to Dr. Bonnet de Malherbe : — "Doctor, do you think your waters agree with me?" " Perfectly," rephed the doctor. " You need a gentle remedy ; and our waters are the mildest and least sulphiu^ous of any. Every part of your body needs to feel their influence ; and, therefore, you take the baths besides drinking at the sprmg. So you must have come to the right place. The Eaux Bonnes, on the contrary, which are so much vaunted, would be too strong for you ; and you yourself know that those of Luchon would never do." The patient tried for another fortnight, and then went to the Eaux Bonnes. " Doctor," he said to the man of science there, " Do you thmk your waters are good for my throat complaint ?" "My dear sir," replies the Esculapius, with a look of pity, " Everyone knows that. They are 214 CAUTERETS. exactly the thing for you. Luchon would be too strong, and the Cauterets spring too weak. Ours have precisely that amount of energy which is needed to remove the uTitation you complain of" Three weeks afterwards, the sick man, still ailing, went to Luchon. He told the doctor there of the two trials he had made. " Cauterets ! Eaux Bonnes !" exclaimed the physician; " What business had you there ? You deserve what you suffer ! Baths for tourists, plea- sure, dandies ! Do they pretend to contain sul- phur enough to cure anything ? However, here you are ; and I \vill treat you like an invalid, not like a fine lady shamming sickness. Tliree big glasses a day ; a bath every day ; and, every day, a douche !" The poor Parisian, disgusted with his three doctors and the Pyrenean specifics, returned to drink the water of the Seme, which did him as much good as any of the others. So an admirer of the Pyrenees tells the story. If, mstead of running from spring to spring, one remains at the same, the game is different. After drmking and bathing for a w^eek, the patient thinks seriously of his ailment ; he thumps his chest or he draws long breaths ; and, after a careful ex- CAUTERETS. 215 amination, decides that he is just as he was. He tells the doctor of his discovery. " How impatient you are 1" he exclaims. " The beauty of these waters is that they act slowly. They do not disturb the system. Violent remedies are j)oison." Next week the patient, either from having eaten too much or drunk too much wine, feels somewhat worse than before. " All right !" exclaims the doctor. " You see our waters are beginning to act. You must be worse before you are better. Go on just as here- tofore, and follow my prescriptions." Next day, after a good night, the patient has lost his headache, and is obliged to declare that it was a mistake to fancy that he was getting worse or better. Wliat is one to think of these wonder- ful waters ? " Think !" says the wise doctor, " That these are intermittent symptoms. I have seen a hun- dred such cases. The very fact that you feel neither better nor worse proves that you will soon be well." Time passes. Some fine day the doctor meets the mvalid in the public walk and rushes up triumphantly : — " You see," he cries, " the waters 216 CAUTERETS. were right after all. You are quite another man. You are nearly well. It only needed a little patience. I was sure that we should set you up !" The poor invalid does not know what to think. Well, yes ; he is a little stronger ; his appetite is a little better. But may not this be owing to the change of scene and air, and to the exercise ? The doctor says the waters have done it all. The doctor says he is cured, and the doctor must know best. However, the tone of his voice shows that he is not quite convinced, as he says, " But, doctor," .... " I cannot hear any buts," says the doctor tri- umphantly, " it will all come right when you get home. You carry away a germ of health. Our waters have done then' duty. They have aroused your natural energies ; if they had even made you worse for a time, the result would ultimately have been the same. But you, however, have been fortunate in everything." The poor invalid takes his leave and returns home to boast how lucky he has been. A celebrated professor exclaimed to his stu- dents, in one of his lectures, " Lose no time, gentlemen, in prescribmg this remedy while it is efficacious, while its virtue lasts. In the time of CAUTERETS. 217 Francis the First, the Eaux Bonnes were good for wounds, and were called ' Arquibusade waters.' The wounded soldiers from the battle of Pavia were sent to them. Now-a-days, they only cure chest and throat complaints. In a hundred years hence, perhaps they will cure something else. Who shall say that medicine makes no progress !" " Formerly," says Sganarelle, " the liver was on the right side and the heart on the left. We have changed all that." But our pretty walk to the Mahourat has led us far out of the track that leads to the romantic Pont d'Espagne. This is a foot-bridge of rough firs thrown, at a great height, over a chasm down which boils the same torrent. The scenery around is wild and wooded ; and continues so, amid these mountain tops, till, at length, it opens a small dreary expanse of water, called the Lac de Gaube. The bare snow-clad rocks on the one side ; the dark firs on the other ; the clearness of the water, which is nearly five hundred yards deep ; the heat of the weather ; and the sensation that one is about five thousand feet above the sea level — all this, joined with the solitude of the spot — gave a great charm to this singular lake. There was, ho\\^evur, a fisherman's hut, and, beside it, a little 218 CAUTERETS. flat-bottomed boat floated on the water ; but, close by, arose a sad monument that recorded how a young Englishman and his bride had both been drowned there some years before, while rowing in that little boat. These walks up mto the Pyrenees were fre- quently enhvened by meetmgs with long-limbed Spaniards, in green jerkins and short breeches, striding down towards the plains of France, and each one loaded with a swine skin filled with wine, like those poor Don Quixote made such bloody war on. Such meetings proved that we were on the confines of another kinofdom and far away from every-day life. Then there is the amphitheatre of Gavamie, which, accordmg to the descriptions of French travellers, and the opinion of Lord Bute, as they are fond of quoting it, is the finest thing in the world. It is some twenty miles from Cauterets, and I much regret that I did not go to see it. The guide-books tell me that it is an immense circus formed in the eternal granite, three stories high, or rising and widening by tlu'ee immense steps. That the highest wall is some five hun- dred yards high, down which tumble cascades of melted snow, that wave and disperse themselves CAUTERETS. 219 in rain. The southern wall of this amphitheatre, which is of no great thickness, is the boundary line between France and Spain ; and popular tradition asserts that a mighty cleft in the side of it was made by the sword of Orlando or Roland, who rode up here in full armour, and tried to force his way into the southern kingdom. I was saying that I had not been to the cirque de Gavarnie. " Why, then, did you come to the Pyrenees ?" asked an enthusiastic Frenchman. " Must I then go to the top of the Pic du Midi ?" " Here is M. Bourgeois just come from it. Tell us what you saw, M. Bourgeois?" " Nothing. You know there is generally a fog in the morning. But I did see something white moving about ; and I heard the bleating of sheep." " And then ?" " And then I saw something grey through the mist ; and the guide said it was the lake d'Oncet ; and then we turned a corner and kept going up for foiu" hours." "Was not the scenery magnificent?" " Why, so so. The view w^as not extensive and ]iad little variety. When the path was straight, 220 CAUTERETS, I saw the back of the guide and the tail of his horse ; and when the path turned, I saw the flank of the horse and one leg of the guide. We went at foot's pace, one behind the other. There was another party following name and they were more lucky ; because they saw my guide almost as well as I did, and they saw moreover my own velvet jacket and white hat." " And so you went on ?" " Yes : my guide was very chatty, and said it was a beautiful day for the excursion, and that we should have such a grand view at the top." "WeU?" " Well now. I will be good-natured," said M, Bourgeois ; " and put you in the way of seeing as much as I did, with much less trouble. Go to the baths of the Espagnol which your daughter pre- fers, and ask for the smallest bath-room, and tell the attendant to have the water made very hot. After a quarter of an hour, go into the room and put on those blue spectacles that are lying by you. " To see the snow-capped ridges of the Pyrenees?" " Patience 1" said M. Bourgeois. " Put on those spectacles, turn your back to the window, and look hard, without wijDing your glasses. At first, CAUTEEETS. 221 you will see nothing but steam. After a minute or two, look more steadily, and you will see more steam. Make another effort ; look as hard as you possibly can, and you will enjoy the same unvaried view. That was what I saw at the top of the Pic du Midi." I made one day a beautiful excursion with our own horses and large britzska ; — it was not, there- fore, towards the Pyrenees. We drove down the romantic gorge to Pierrefitte, and then, turning to the right, passed up the still wilder ravme towards Luz. Nothing can exceed the boldness of the engmeering that has built a carriage road through, amid, and upon these terrific precipices. The rocks sometimes toppling above the road ; the road some- times following ledges overhanging the torrent, and sometimes crossmg, from side to side, on bridges that are said to be of marble : — they may be so — Menai bridge is of marble, though no one would find it out except from the little bits that are polished and carried away as mementoes. At length, the ravine opened on the smiling valley of Luz, where green meadows, intersected by glittering streamlets, and shaded by long lines of poplar trees, lay, in tranquil beauty, amid the surrounding mountains. 222 CAUTERETS. Here is a large church, as much like a fortress as a church. In fact, it formerly belonged to the military Knights Templars, and is entered under a battlemented tower, and is surrounded by a battlemented wall. Here is the low door, retired apart from all others, by which the unhappy cagots were obliged to enter and leave the build- ino;'. This unfortunate race was found in all these countries of the Pyrenees, resembling much the cretins and goitrous idiots of the Alps, and kno^Ti by different names in different districts ; in Navarre, they are called caffos ; in Guyenne, cahety ; in Annis, calibeots ; in Brittany, cocons. Some anti- quaries think them descended from the Spanish Goths ; some from those christians who accompa- nied the disastrous retreat from Spain of Charle- magne and Roland, and took refuge in the Pyrenean mountains. Many believe that their imbecility is owing to the hardships of their race or tribes, and not to the waters of the valleys they inhabit. They were always considered infamous by law, and forbidden to carry arms, or to follow any except specific trades. In towns they were shut up in quarters of their own, like Jews in Italy. Sickness, mfirmity, and misery followed, as a matter of course, these barbarous enactments. CAUTERETS. 223 Christianity would not exclude them from its worship ; but wa,s obliged to conform so far to the spirit of the times as to assign to them a separate entrance and portion of every church. Luz was the chief to^vn of a little republic which formerly existed in these surrounding val- leys. The best men of the neighbouring villages met here and settled their laws and taxation. Of these latter, and of the state income, no other record was kept than tallies or notched sticks, which they called totchoux. A clever finan- cier of France, at the end of the last century, ordered that all the ancient registers and accounts of the country should be brought to him. The order produced from Luz two cart-loads of sticks, which he foimd it difficult to analyse and file, but which proved dry and excellent fuel. A good road through a country that becomes more and more wretched, leads, in about seven miles, to Bareges, the most celebrated and, pro- bably, the most efficacious of all the springs of the Pyrenees. Here the Government maintains a military hospital for the cure of old wounds, skin diseases, and ulcers ; and the patient has the com- fort of knowing that they have always professed to cure these same complaints and have not 224 CAUTEEETS. changed with the changmg year, nor undertaken to cure other diseases which, for the time, might be more in the fashion. This is some consolation. And, if ever invahd stood in want of consola- tion, he must do so at this miserable place. It is I know not how many thousand feet above the sea ; it consists of one street that cKmbs the side of a bleak mountain ; the houses on one side of which are of wood, because avalanches so often fall on that part during the winter, that it is deemed advisable to pack them up and carry them away before the snow collects. On the other side, are buildings of stone which might be equally whelmed but that an old beech wood grows on the mountain side above, and stops the faUing ava- lanche. In grateful acknowledgment of this service an ancient law protects the sacred wood by decree- ing the punishment of death to anyone who should carry an axe into it. In fact, the whole village is deserted at the beginning of October ; the houses are shut up ; the inhabitants go down to the plams ; and a few mountaineers take charge of Bareges until the following spring. But the state of the bathing estabhshment here is a disgrace to whoever has authority in the country. Here are sixteen wretched holes for the CAUTERETS. 225 accommodation of an average number of one thou- sand invalids, besides tliose of tlie military hospital. There are, indeed, three large piscinas or open baths, in which people can crowd together ; there is the bath for civilians and the military bath, both of wliich are supplied with the water that has been already used in the private baths ; and there is the bath for the poor which is supplied by the refuse that has washed the sores of the civihans and of the soldiers. Dark, dirty, vapoury holes they all are. One must have a deal of health to stand such a remedy ! Madame de Maintenon was no better pleased with Bareges when she brought thither the little Due du Maine and wrote those letters to Louis XIV, which first captivated the licentious kmg and imposed her rule on France. " You see, I keep up my spuits," she wrote, " in a place more frightful than you can imagme ; and to mcrease our misery, we are freezing on this 30th of June. The company here is very bad. They treat us with respect, and bore us. All the women are always ailing ; they are Parisian idiots who were surprised to find how big the world was when they had travelled thirty miles, as far as Etampes." I remember a country bumpkin, from the flats 226 CAUTERETS. of Bridgwater, who clambered up to the top of Castle Hill at Nether Stowey. Looking around with wonderment, he exclaimed, " I didn't think the world had been so wide !" We baited and breakfasted at Bareges ; and gladly drove down the hill again. I tiu'ned off, however, at Luz, and clomb up the side of a beau- tiful wooded rock, not half a mile from it. Here, nestled amongst the trees and leaning against the precipice, is the charming Httle watering place of Saint Sauvein-. All is pretty, neat, and romantic ; for the waters of Saint Sauveur are good for- nervous complaints ; and only rich and fashionable people can afford to have nervous complaints. CHAPTER XVIII. THE TYRENEES. Carriage and Horses seized for debt. — Lourdes and the Ages of Faith. — Legend of the Chateau de Beuac. — Bagneres de Bigorre. — Bagneres de Lviclion. — The old Guide. — Bear Hunting. — A Funny Story. — Isard Hunting. — A Sad Story. We had been six weeks at Cauterets. Dr. Bonnet had declared that the waters could do no more for our daughter, and had exacted his fee. I desired Paul, our coachman, to have the carriage at the door on the following morning that it might be packed for Bagneres. He came to me, at eight o'clock, saying that a M. Lahore, keeper of the Hotel de Bichelieu, asserted that the stables and coach-house were his property, and that the car- riage and horses should not be removed until after the payment of one hundred and fifty francs for rent. I quietly went to the Commissahe of Police and told h'un tliat I knew nothing of the Hotel 228 THE PYRENEES. de Richelieu ; for that, when I had arrived at Cauterets, I had been to the Hotel des Princes ; that I had hired my apartments from a M. Bor- denave who had told me that he could dispose of the stabluig and coach-house which I had occupied, and which I supposed to belong to Bordenave, and that they were included in the rent I paid to the latter. The Commissaire forthwith ordered the Hotel de Richelieu to release my property and to appeal, if it so pleased, to a higher tribunal ; and Paul drove up to our door in triumph. But the matter did not so end. Our landlord, M. Bordenave, sent np his bill for rent of the apartment, breakages, &c., and added a note that this did not include rent of stable and coach-house. I wT:'ote on the same bill that the latter rent was included, and that I paid the bill with this protest ; and I sent the money to him by Paul. M. Bordenave refused to receive it ; and we all took our seats and drove away with our money. Once more, we drove down the wild ravine to Pierrefitte, and through the pretty valley of Argeles to the little town of Lourdes, to which history attaches some memories interesting to English- men. For, in the middle ages, this town belonged THE PYRENEES. 229 to lis ; and Frenchmen tell, with pride, the story of one who was faithful — even to England, This was a certain Armand de Beam, who had the com- mand of the Castle of Lourdes for the king of England. One day his suzerain lord, the Comte de Foix, sent for him, and, in the presence of many knights and squires, ordered him to dehver up the fortress to the Due d'Anjou. Armand was astounded. At length, he said, " I owe you faith and homage, for I am a poor knight of your clan and of your country ; but I will never give up the castle intrusted to me — never. You have called me here and can do with me as you will ; but I will not deliver it to any but to the king of England." The Comte de Foix drew out his dagger. " Oh ! oh ! traitor !" he cried, " You will not, say you ?" and he struck him five times with his dagger, while the barons and knights looked on, but dared not move. " Oh, monseigneur ; you are not acting right !" exclaimed the wounded man ; and soon after he expired. Such deeds were done in what Kenelm Digby extols as " The Ages of Faith." We rested oiu- horses ; had luncheon ; and pro- 230 THE PYRENEES. ceeded on our way. The Chateau de Benac arose at some distance. Wliat of that ? asks the reader ; the Chateau de Benac ? Yes, of Bos de Benac. Listen. Bos de Benac was a brave Christian knig-ht who accompanied St. Lems, king of France, m- his crusade to Palestme. There, having much dis- tinguished himself in battle "v\T.th the heathen, his comrades saw him fall gloriously, and prayed for his soul. But Bos de Benac was not dead. He was earned prisoner mto the interior ; and held in slavery for seven years, subjected to all the outrages that Saracens could inflict upon liim in hatred to the faith he constantly professed. Under the heat of the sim, he grew as black as the natives, while tending goats and camels in a lonely place. One day, he was accosted by a little black man, who had two horns growing out of his fore- head ; and had feet like the hoofs of goats ; wliile his look was more wicked than that of the most wicked Saracen. This was the devil, who cried out. " Ha ! ha ! Bos ! Much you have got by fighting for the cross. Here you are a slave to my slaves. Your dogs at home are better treated tlian you. Do you know, at Benac they all THE PYRENEES. 231 believe you to be dead ; and your wife is to be married to-morrow. Brave knight ! Go and milk your goats. Ha ! ha !" Bos cast himself on the sand in despair and • wept aloud. The devil seemed to take pity on him. " I am not so bad as folks say," he ex- claimed. " This very night you shall be in your own country of Bigorre ; only promise to give me a basket of nuts in exchange." Bos hesitated ; and the devil took advantage of his hesitation. He caught him by the hand, and away they went through the air. Bos saw^, far beneath, a wide river winding, like a snake, through sandbanks ; and then a city laid out upon the low shore. Onward they went ; over the sea, dotted with black ships that looked like tad- poles ; and then over a three-cornered island, from which arose a great hollow mountain full of fire and canopied with smoke. The devil looked askance, and hurried on over more sea ; and the night fell, and the moon rose ; and, at last, Bos looked down upon a long ridge of snowy pinnacles and joyfully recognised his own Pyrenees. " Valiant knight ! Go and seek your wife !" cried the devil, with a burst of laughter hke the sound of an oak tree broken short off by the 232 THE PYEEXEES. storm ; and, as he disappeared, he left behind him a strong smell of sulphur. Bos saw that he was at the gate of his own Castle of Benac. It was early morning ; the air was raw ; the earth was damp ; and, after the sun of Egypt, Bos, clad in his sheep skm, trembled with the cold. A splendid cavalcade drew near. There were lords, knights, and ladies in brocades and cloth of gold and glittering armour. It was the lord of Angles coming to wed the lady of Benac. They aU passed on before where he stood, and entered the wide gateway. Bos rushed forwards, but was driven back by the warders, w^ho said, " Good man, return at midday, and you will re- ceive you alms with the others." The poor wanderer sat down on a rock. He heard the sounds of music and of rejoicing withui his castle ; he bethought him how another was about to take his wife and his property ; and he grmded his teeth with thoughts of mru^der ; but he had learned patience during his seven years of slavery ; and, moreover, he was unarmed. AU the poor of the country began to collect m their rags and misery ; but the rightful lord of the place was more ragged and miserable than they ; and as he saw the reflection of his own wretched THE PYRENEES. 233 figure ill the waters of the castle moat, his wild uncombed hair and beard, and the sheep-skin and rags over his otherwise naked body, and as he heard all around him invoke blessmgs on the newly married pair, revenge took possession of his heart. They were all in the porch of the great hall ; and through the open door. Bos saw the well-known festive room, hung round with armour, which he had often worn ; with tusks of boar and antlers of deer that he himself had slain. He saw the lord of Angles seated beside his wife, and whispering soft words to which she listened smiling. In an uncontrollable fit of jealousy, he rushed into the hall, exclaiming : " Away, traitors ! I alone am master here. I am Bos of Benac !" " Lying beggar !" cried d' Angles, " I myself saw Bos fall dead on the sands of Egyyt. Who art thou, wretch, who art as black as the Saracens themselves ? If you are not one of them, the devil has suggested this lie, and brought you here. Loose the dogs on him, I say !" But the pitying lady pleaded for the poor mad- man ; and he was only hustled out of the merry crowd. With a feeling of rage and desperation, the poor wanderer fled into the surrounding forest. 234 THE PYRENEES. But he fled not alone. At the sound of his voice, a huge greyhound had started from the feet of the lady, and, with a loud joyful bark had sprang through the crowd ; whilst a favourite falcon that sat on her wrist, fluttered itself free of hood and jesses, and flew out at the open window of the hall. Poor Bos had cast himself in despair on the ground of the forest, when the greyhound bounded upon him, and, with many a yelp of joy, began to hck his hands and his face. The falcon perched upon his wrist, and with beak and arched neck and rustling feather, testified its joy in a manner well understood by its master. Tears of sensibihty and of love came into the wanderer's eyes ; and when, in the midst of this scene of recognition, the devil again appeared, and scoffingiy exclaimed " How, Bos, are you not invited to your wife's wedding ? The Sieur d' Angles is just gomg to marry her," he cast himself on his knees and cried " Oh Lord, for whom I have fought, deliver me from temptation !" The devil disappeared ; and the hands of the crusader, as he joined them by chance on his breast, touched the scapulary m which he had sown, for safety's sake, his wedding ring aroimd his neck ; a ring which, in early days, he had taken from his THE PYRENEES. 235 bride's finger and placed upon his own. He started and cried " Thanks, oh Lord ! Let me arrive in time ?" He ran ; he sped ; he flew. The greyhoimd bounded beside him. The falcon spread her wings above his head. The bridal procession was just entering the chapel ; Bos was enabled to rush for- ward in the confusion occasioned by the barking of the dog and the cry of the falcon ; and seizing the hand of the lady, he showed her the ring. She recognised it instantly ; looked steadily at the recently despised beggar, and threw herself into his arms. After a few moments, Bos de Benac turned to the wondering crowd : "1 have sufiered for Christ," he said. " I have been denied, hke Christ. Men of Bigorre, who have denied me, and ill- treated me, be my friends as heretofore." On the following day, says the legend. Bos took a basket of nuts and threw them down a deep cleft in the mountain which was said to be haunted by the devil ; and having thus kept his promise like a knight, even to the Evil One, he set out like a Christian to confess the sin of having trafficked with him to the Pope. On his return, he retired to a, hermitage in the depth of 236 THE PYEENEES. the forest, and his wife took the veil in a convent at Tarbes. The legend does not explain why they thus parted, after having so long mourned for each other, and I know no more about it than the legend. It was the height of the season of Bagneres de Bigorre, on which account I was told that the Hotel de Paris had so much raised its prices since we had passed through early in July. In truth, these watering places have a short-lived harvest and may faMy gather in what they can while it lasts. In winter, they are desolate and cheap enough ; and I never heard of any one except Lord Vaux of Harrowden, sjDcnding that season there. At this time, the httle place looked hvely enough, and the walk under its fine elm trees w^as crowded. It flattered itself that it was quite Parisian. Perhaps it was. I did not feel tempted to make acquaintance w^ith its heau monde, or to accompany it to the heated assembly rooms, called Frascati, where the crowd played at cards and billiards, and danced in the month of August. It is a clean neat town, seated in a very pretty country, amid good roads and pleasant walks, and with these and some more distant excursions, I thought we could amuse ourselves for a fortnight. THE PYRENEES. 237 On the last day of August, we drove out by the road of the mountains, and through fine scenery came to the little town of Arreau; thence through a beautiful forest of silver fir-trees, and over a very bleak pass, we reached a ridge of lofty moiui- tain, from which we looked down into a smiling valley below. The road circled along the side of the hill, amid copsewood and cottages : night came on : lights began to twinkle from many a window : they formed an earthly constellation in one particular spot of the deep valley underneath : our horses trotted more freshly onwards : the sound of rushing waters uprose beside the road ; and, at last, we emerged from the outer darkness amid the blazing light and crowded street, and brass bands and fiddles and pedler-stalls and glit- tering cafes and handsome hotels, that constitute the town of Bagneres de Luchon. We ended our thirty-five mile drive at the Hotel de Londres. Bagneres de Luchon is, indeed, a remarkably pretty place : to be far preferred to any other spot in the Pyrenees by those who can choose their loca- tion there. Here is a fine boulevard, shaded by large trees, which runs up from the lower town — shops, houses, cafes and hotels on each side — and affording at all times an animated and umbrageous 238 THE PYRENEES. walk. This boulevard is the beauty of Luchon, though the mayor of the town who made it had to send for a troop of dragoons to protect himself from the people who would not mend their ways. Above this Cours d'Etigny, is a pretty Enghsh garden, with green turf, and benches, and clusters of trees around one of the mineral springs. The handsome establishment of the baths is lower down. I speak not of the medicinal properties of the waters. Let doctors decide on these. Bareges, Bigorre, and Luchon were all frequented by the Romans of old. Here was found an inscription to the god Lixon, from whence, we are told, the modem name, Luchon. The waters are all warm and sulphurous ; and, in the vaults in which they are collected, are numberless serpents, dravni thither by the warm steam. These are perfectly harmless, and are the playthings of children, who make them swallow one another ; and often a serpent that has been swallowed by one of its fel- lows, will crawl ag-ain out of the throat of the swallower, and swallow it in its turn. Above the town of Luchon, the beautiful valley of the Lys leads on and on towards the snow- capped Pyrenees with ever-varying scenery. The weather was over|)()\\'criiig ; so o-reat was the boat THE PYRENEES. 239 that not even the dash of the waters could lead imagination to forget reality. We sat and walked, and sat again ; and coveted, with an almost sinful desire, the two horses on which a lady and gentle- man cantered past us. At length, we turned us again towards the plain ; admiring the different openings into the further landscape, and the soli- tary tower of Castelviel which, almost everywhere, stands out as a picturesque object. We were stopping to rest at one of these open- ings on the left, when I observed, seated in the shade of an overhanging bank covered with brushwood, an old man whose appearance was somewhat unusual. He was evidently neither a labourer nor a proprietor ; but one whose clean limbs and tall slim figure shewed like a French "Leather stocking" — such as Cooper loved to de- scribe his hunter of the prairies. As he saw that he was noticed, the old man rose ; and leaning his still upright figure on an iron-shod staff, respect- fully touched his bear-skin cap. I moved towards him and entered into conversation ; desiring him to return to his seat in the shade. " Mafoi, monsieur,'' he replied, "it is very hot ; and tlie strnno'est tliino- of all is to think that, a 240 THE PYRENEES. few hours walk from here, people may freeze in the midst of snows that never melt." " You mean ©n the Maladetta ?" I asked, point- ing to the ridge behind us. " On the Maladetta, and everywhere in these mountains. And yet they are brave mountains, on which I have known many a happy day." He sighed as he reseated himself " What, then, are you ?" I asked. " Wliat had you to do amid those snows ?" " I was a chasseur. Monsieur ; a guide-chasseur to every part of these rocks. Neither valley, port, pic, nor glacier was unknown to Pierre Redonnet ; not a stranger came to Luchon and wished to faire la chasse of bear or isard, but he sought out Pierre Pedonnet." " But are there so many isards and bears as really to afibrd sport ?" I asked. " Voyez-vous, Monsieur," said the old man with a cunning smile, " I have heard some say that there are more of both kmds in the Jardin des Plantes at Paris than in the Pyrenees ; but it is not true. They are to be found by us of the trade, though the gentlefolks may not succeed, because they do not hke the fatigue and the danger. Besides, ga va avec trop de tapage. A THE PYRENEES. 241 chasseur iTisard should go alone, or be posted alone ; and wait for hours and horn's m the snow until the chase is driven past him. See if a gentleman will do that ! Neither isard nor bear will come up to be shot at by ten or twenty people who are out on a pleasure party, instead of on a matter of business." " Celci se congoit," I said ; " but," I asked, to indulge the old man's evident love of talk, " is this chasse d'ours and d'ismrl so very dangerous ?" "How can it be otherwise," he replied, "to people unaccustomed to walk amid those rocks and on that snow and ice ? And then sometimes Us ]jerdent la tHe — they lose their heads. I was once out with a party of young students from Montpellier, when we started a great she-bear that came straight down upon them. Four or five of the sportsmen forgot that they liad come out on purpose to shoot bears ; and, at sight of the little bright eyes of the beast, ran away be- hind trees and rocks. One of them, however, was more courageous than the rest, and fired. He did not hit the mark ; and the bear came lumbering on. The hunter took to his heels ; and, dropping his gun, slid dowQ a precipice to save himself He rolled to the bottom of a pit 242 THE PYRENEES. without much hurt ; but, while he was rubbing his knees and elbows, he looked up and saw the bear sniffing round the top of the bank and seek- ing a safe place by which to get down. Mafoi, old chasseur as I am, it would not have been a pleasant tete-a-tete to have had to converse with the beast at the bottom of that quarry ; and Madame I'Ours seemed resolved to begin the conversation. She found a place that suited her, and began stepping down backwards, holding on by the rocks and roots with the greatest care and a sang froid admirable. Luckily, I came up be- fore she had reached the bottom, and I sent a ball through her which tumbled her down quicker than she had mtended." The old hunter laughed heartily at the remem- brance of the exploit ; and then, seeing that we had seated ourselves on a grassy bank in the shade, he evidently made up his mind for more talk ; and blowing his nose with both hands, said, '' That was une aventure plaisante; but sometimes we witness very sad accidents. Such was one that chanced to one of your compatriots when I was at the head of the guides-chasseurs of Luchon ; it was in the year — let me see — yes, it was in the THE PYRENEES. 243 summer of the year 1843. Monsieur must have heard of that accident ?" he asked. I thought I knew to what he aUuded ; but begged him to recount the whole history, as he said that he had been of the party. " Monsieur mexcusera. I was more than one of the party. I was the head guide ; and my daughter was there too ; for as the lady herself would go, she thought my Jeannette would be of more use to attend on her and her children than her own maid from England." " Tell us all about it — ^beginning at the begin- ning," I said. " Well, monsieur, then I must tell you what I heard from Jeannette, as well as what I saw my- self. It was in the summer, as I have said, that this Enghsh gentleman arrived at Luchon with his family. There was a maid, and a valet, and two carriages ; for there were no railroads in those times. It seems the gentleman had been very fond of the chase in his own country ; and he often got into talk with me and the gentlemen here about the malheureux isards. At last, a large party was formed ; and it was decided that we should go round the Maladetta and cross into the Spanish mountains. There was a M. de 244 THE PYRENEES. Gram m out, and a Comte de Nicolai, and oiu- banker of Liiclion, and one or two other gentle- men were to be of the company ; and I was told to select eight or ten guides. We all wanted to start on Saturday, bat the Englishman said he would not go out shooting on Sunday, and so w^e had to wait. '' Now, monsieur, I have to tell a curious thing. It seems that the wife of this Enghshman, who was very young, and helle comme un ange, had a dream on the Saturday night which told her that something dreadful was to happen at a spot near a solitary house, with a tree and a tent and snow and mountains all about ; and she had such influ- ence with her husband that she persuaded hmi to take her and the two children with the hunting party. This was how my daughter was there, as I told you ; for they had the judgment to take my Jeannette mstead of the Enghsh femme de chambre. " Ma foi, it was strange to see a lady like that ride out of Luchon at three o'clock on Monday morning, ^\\\\\ two little girls in two baskets strung across the back of another mule ; and all those gentlemen and guides laughing and talking around. We were, m truth, a jolly party ! There were mules laden with provisions ; and there were THE PYRENEES. 245 the lady and the babies and my daugliter ; and there were all the gentlemen thinking how triumphantly they would return laden with bears and isards ; and there were all us guides, boastmg and promis- mg them such sport as Avas never yet carried from the Pyrenees. " It was a moonhght night ; and well I remem- ber how bright and joyous everythmg looked, as, havmg tui'ned oiF by that valley to the left, we rose to the top of Port du Portilhon, and saw the Vallee de Burbe on one side and the rocks of Catalonia on the other. We descended amongst these, and marched bravely on up the Vallee d'Aran. About midday, we all reached the town of Viella, and dmed on the provisions we had brought and on what the public-houses of this little frontier-town could supply. Having rested for three hours, we started again, and soon came amongst the snows that never melt in those moun- tains. Onwards, however, we bravely went. One of the little girls was tired, and began to cry ; but we took her out of her pannier, and we and all the gentlemen, we took it in turns to carry her and to amuse her. It was quite dark when we crossed the ridge called the Port de Paillas and roused up the monk who kept the hospice 246 THE PYRENEES. or refuge house on the other side of the ridge. Here were three or four half-furnished rooms, two of which were placed at the disposal of the English gentleman and lady and Jeannette and the children. The other gentlemen and we guides took possession of the rest. " As monsieur may suppose, the lady and chil- dren did not go any further. We left them asleep when we chasseurs started at day-break, in search of our game, on the following Tuesday morning. We went further into the mountains, scattermg ourselves as we went ; for the isard love the higher peaks so that they can find there the scanty grass on which they feed. The gentle- men used to place themselves in ambush in some wild ravine while we guides started off in search of them. Wlien found, we were to diive them doTVTi the ravme, and the chasseurs were to fire as they passed. " When we returned at night, we found that be- fore the lady and the children arose in the morrdng, Jeannette and the monk and a peasant belonging to the place, had arranged a rude table under the spreading branches of an almost leafless tree that grew beside the sohtary hospice ; and had hung over the boughs some shawls and rugs that made THE PYKENEES. 247 a sort of tent and kept off the rays of the sun. She had thought to pleasure her mistress ; but when the latter came forth and saw the arrange- ment, she turned deadly pale. Jeannette asked what was the matter. " ' My dream,' murmured the lady looking round ; ' this is the very spot and the very tent I saw in that dream which impelled me to come up with my husband.' " However, we were all very merry when we returned at night, though we had not killed any- thing. We promised ourselves better luck on the morrow. " But our search was not successful. Day after day we used to start at daybreak, and returned home at nightfall without having done anything. Whether it was that the isards had got wind of so large a party being out against them, I know not ; but so soon as we guides had caught sight of a herd browsing on some eminence with their little horns standing out against the blue sky, the one that was on watch always gave the alarm ; and away they bounded in the opjDosite direction. At length, on the Friday, one of our gentlemen had the good luck to come across a bear, and shot it. How triumpliantly wc returned to the hospice 248 THE PYRENEES. and showed the shaggy brute to the hidy and children ! It chanced that some French and Spanish muleteers and contrabandists had met there that day ; and they and we guides all began dancing to the sounds of a guitar and some cas- tagnettes before the lady's tent ; and boasted that, at all events, we should not return empty-handed to Luchon. Our retiu^n, on the contrary, would be the usual triumphant entry of those who have slain a bear. The prize would be carried before us ; we should all discharge our guns in a feu de joie ; the dogs would bark ; the brats of the street would cheer a.nd shriek ; and all the com- pany at the baths woidd run to their windows to applaud or envy us ; and so we danced and sang and triumphed in anticipation. How different it was fated that our return should be ! "We started again at daybreak on the following Saturday morning ; and Jeannette afterwards told me how her English mistress had congratulated herself with her that this was the last day of the week's hunt, and that they should return the next mornmg to Luchon without having met with any misfortune to justify the dread occasioned by her dream. We started at daybreak, and worked our Avay over the snow high above the sources of the THE PYEENEES. 249 Garonne and the Hermitage de Montgany. I know not whether our gentlemen had grown careless in then- anxiety to kill something on this the last day, or from familiarity with the dangers of the spot, but certam it is that they slipped about a good deal ; and one of them would have slid down a crevasse but that another, whom he caught hold of, had the presence of mind to throw himself on the snow and so save them both. At three o'clock after midday, however, we were all crossing a rocky glacier as uneven as all these are, when the foot of the husband of the Enghsh lady slipped, and he fell. His gun exploded ; and the shot went through the flesh of his left arm. We all ran up, and congratulated ourselves that it was no worse. But here was an end of our sport. We tied up the wound as well as we could, and carried hun back towards the hospice. It was a dreary walk. We had gone so much further than usual, that, delayed as we were by the wounded man, it was quite dark before we reached the hospice. " I need not tell you of the misery of the poor wife as she came forward to meet us, and saw all her fears verified. We laid him on a bed and stripped him. It was a ghastly wound. The 250 THE PYRENEES. flesh was all blown away ; and there were the arteries hanging down a quarter of a metre, and still pouring blood. While some hastened forward to summon the doctor from Viella, and one of the French gentlemen started to brmg up a friend of his, a famous Paris surgeon who was taking the baths at Luchon, we tried to tie up these arteries ; but we could not stop the blood. At length, his wife twisted them round her fingers and sat there, Jeannette said, the whole night without moving, as thus only could the bleeding be stayed. At ten o'clock next morning, the doctor from Viella arrived, and tied and bandaged all up properly, and did what was needed. But it was all too late. While the lady and my daughter were sittmg beside his bed, his breathing gradually became less and less ; and, without a struggle, he expired on that Simday afternoon. " With the early dawn next morning, we all commenced our sad procession. We met the doctor from Luchon, and he turned back with us. At Yiella, we were, of course, delayed while the authorities drew up a ]}roces verbal of the accident, and while a rude coffin was being made. This we all took it m turn to carry, slung to staves laid on the shoulders of four of us ; and downwards, THE PYRENEES. 251 towards the valley, we slowly staggered. It was dark when we arrived at Luchon ; there was a tremendous thunderstorm as we entered the town. This was not the triumphant return we had all promised ourselves !" The old chasseur paused for a time. " You see, I was right, monsieur," he continued, *' in saymg that this chasse aux isards is some- times dangerous. Poor gentleman ! His widow carried away the corpse ; and I was told that she buried him in the Protestant cemetery at Tou- louse. I do not remember what his name was ; but it was a sad ending- — to die in that desolate place, with that young wife and those two Httle girls." " His name, my good friend," I said, " was James Barlow Hoy, of the Isle of Wight ; he was long Member of Parhament for oiu* town of South- ampton."* I pressed a bit of money on the good-hearted but garrulous old man ; and, takuig my wife's arm under mme, we returned thoughtfully to Luchon. * This is the gentleman alluded to in a former chapter, p. 100, as the founder of the churcli of West End, in which his widow could not erect a memorial Sculpture without pay- ing £60 to the Rector. 2.r2 THE PYRENEES. It is difficult to imagine scenery more beautiful than that in the neighbourhood of Cierp, which we passed next day on our drive homewards. Then came the little town of Saint Bertrand de Cominges, one of the most ancient and historic towns of Aquitame, for which no one now cares. Its cathedral, however, stands out magnificently, and is very interestmg ; and none the less so be- cause it was so pillaged and defaced by the bar- barians of the French revolution of 1793. CHAPTER XIX. THE LAW-SUIT. Character of the Bearnais. — Begging. — The Coat Button. — The Picture. — The Asylum. — Henri IV. — Bernadotte. — Arrested. — The President of Tribunals. — Denaturalised. — The Trial. — Judgment. Bagneres de Bigorre is not in the old country of Beam ; but it, and the other districts of the Pyre- nees I had visited, were so near to the confines of that province that the same national character ob- tains in them all. I regret to say that that character is not a pleasmg one. The French proverb declares of the Bearnais—" civil and treacherous :" — I can- not say much of the civility, except when they are slavishly trying to overreach or to get something by begging or cunning. From four to fifteen years of age, the children are professional beggars. " None are ashamed of it," says a French writer. "Look at the smallest children sitting on their door-step and gnawmg apples ; they will toddle up and stretch out their little dirty hands. Look at a boy 254 THE LAW-SUIT. keeping his cows on the mountain side ; he will leave them to ask for half a son. Look at that big girl going home with a faggot of wood on her head; she will turn and ask for something. Look at that labourer mending the road, even he will say ' See what a fine road I am making for you ; give me quelque chose.' Look at those brats play- ing at the end of the lane ; as soon as they see you, they will catch hold of each other's hands and dance round in a rmg till you are near enough to be asked to pay them for the show." Somebody asked the maid of his lodgings to sow on a button on his coat. She brought it back with a shy and yet cunnmg look, and timidly said " It is one sou." The sou was given ; but so readily, that the gii'l thought she might try for more. She returned from the head of the stairs, and, taking up the coat, looked at the button she had sown on, " It is a very good button," she said ; " a new one. I had not any in my box so I bought this at the grocer. It is one sou." She looked doubtful ; but the owner of the coat, without saying a word, gave another sou. Hose thought she had evidently hghted upon a mine of sous. She came back again after half a THE LAW-SUIT. 255 minute, and, with a degree of assurance unknown in the beginning, said " I forgot the thread. I had no thread and was obliged to buy it. It is very good thread and I sowed it strong so that it will not come off a^ain. It is one sou," The stranger, without speakmg, pushed another sou towards her. Two hours afterwards, she was laying the cloth for dinner. She had been meditating aU the while ; and she now went through her work with a serious gravity of manner. At length, with cringing earnestness, she said, in the most gentle tone, " I ought not to lose by it. You would not wish me to be a loser. The cloth was very hard and I broke the point of my needle. I did not find it out before, but I see it is broken. It is one sou." " Ce peuple est innocent ; son ingenuite N'altere point la simple verite." The owner of the coat — and of the button — was a painter. He had been making a drawmg of the parish church ; and wished, like Walter Scott, to hear a foolometer's opinion of his sketch. " Do you know that. Rose ?" he asked, shewing it to her. " Ah, monsieur ! Did you do that ?" " Tell me : what have I copied there ?" 256 THE LA^Y-SUIT. " Ah, monsieur I how pretty it is !" " Yes, but what is it ? Did you ever see anything Hke it ?" Kose took the paper and turned it about ^\ath a simpering stupid look. "Is it a church or a wmdmill ?" asked the artist. " Well now !" exclaimed the girl. "Is it the parish church ?" " Ah, it is very beautiful !" continued the girl ; but she would not compromise herself by saying anything else. " Treacherous and civil," says the proverb ; and people from other parts of France doubt whether these Bearnais look upon them as their harvest or their prey. The result is much the same. Dis- interestedness is not a mountain virtue. They are poor and clever ; and they have to win theu* way m the world. So Henri IV, the Bearnais, won his way to the throne of France. The people of the Pyrenees threw down stones on the rear guard of Charlemagne, retreating from the heathen after the death of Orlando, and then divided the spoil, the arms, and the clothes of those they had crushed. So they did with another body of troops sent by Louis le Pieux. But they enriched themselves. An old charter THE LAW-SUIT. 257 of 1221 provided that, if the lord were to arrest a native of Ossau while pillaging and ravaging his lands, he might detam him in the dungeons of his castle until he had compensated for the dam- age; but that if he could escape with his booty to his proper country of Ossau, he might return next day unarmed to the lordship he had ravaged and could never be touched, unless the lord, or, in his absence, the viscountess were to enter the lands of Ossau in person, in which case the Ossa- lais themselves were bound to assist m taking- the robbers. This whole country, therefore, was an asylum of robbers and outlaws; since no one could be dehvered up except on the personal appearance and demand of the suzerain. Such a system ensured a spirit of insolence, daring, and enterprise. So, in the first ci;usade, the Count Gaston was, with Tancred, the first to assault the walls of Jerusalem, and built his " cows of Beam," as he called his battering rams, on the top of a tower. In those ages, the Counts of Beam fought and allied themselves with everyone. They were con- veniently placed on the skirts of Spain, England, and France ; and passed from one to the other as either most valued their services. But they well 258 THE LAW-SUIT. earned their pay, and were always ready to fight or be killed for the love of blows or the love of money. And thus Henri IV, who was bred in a castle near here and left to run about the streets of his native village barefoot with the other brats, inherited that character which, on a wider field, made him a hero. After he had seated himself on the throne, he wrote, " I have scarcely a horse that can carry me in battle, nor a complete set of armour. My shirts are in rags, and my coat out at elbows ; and, for the last two days, I have been dining with one and supping vdth the other, be- cause my own purveyors say they can get no more on credit." One month afterwards, when the Parhament of Rouen reported to him that their prisons of Nor- mandy were so full of wretches charged with evading the salt-tax that one hundred and twenty had been taken out dead in one day, as from a pest house, his Majesty laughed ; and said he could not afford to give up a tax which brought in so large an income. This man turned out to be a hero — not only of Beam but of France. The last of these successful gentry from Beam, of whom the world has heard, was born at No. 6, THE LAW-SUIT. 259 Rue du Trail at Pan. In 179 2. he was drummer in a French regiment ; a few years later, he was King of Sweden. Henri IV became a Catholic for a crown. Bernadotte abjured his Catholicism for the same worthy object. It is to be presumed that neither one nor the other had ever any re- hgion at all to abjure, or ever assumed any m exchange. In the same manner, German Luther- ans, Calvinists, or Reformadoes become good Anglicans for a bit of English royalty, and vice- versa. But I was not to arrive at Pau without paying my biQ at Cauterets ; — that bill, the amount of which I have stated, that M, Bordenave, the lodginghouse-keeper, had refused to receive be- cause I protested that the stable and coach-house were included in the rent of the house. We had been living, for about a week, in a house I had hu-ed by the day at Bagneres de Bigorre, when, returning one mornmg from a walk, I passed the Commissaire of Police, a huissier, and two gensd'armes who were loitering about the front door. Oiu" servants told me in great alarm that they were come to arrest me. I took the matter more coolly. I put a rouleau of napoleons, which I had kept ready for the purpose in my 260 THE LAW-SUIT. pocket, and went out again by the stable yard door ; and took my way to the mairie, or town-hall. The armed force soon hastened after and ovei-took me, and the commissaire told me his errand. " You may save yourself the trouble," I replied. " I am going to the hotel-de-ville." "To do what ?" he asked. "To do whatever the chief magistrate recom- mends. But why did you not arrest me as I en- tered the house j ust now ? "' " We were told that monsieur wore moustaches, and you did not answer the description." At the mairie, I was shown the warrant on which I had been arrested. In it, M. Eugene Bordenave declared to the President du Tribmial de Premiere Instance, that I, a foreigner, calling myself an Englishman, owed him for his apartment 1,225 francs ; for damage to furniture, breakages, wages to his porter, and to a housemaid whom he had kept for me, 143 francs more ; that I had left Cauterets without paying him, havmg taken care previously to send away all my baggage ; that I was now likely, at any moment, to quit France in order to escape payment of w^hat I owed ; and, therefore, he, Bordenave, prayed that I should be provisionally arrested : which thereupon the said THE LAW-SUIT. 261 President had ordered, I deposited; in the hands of the court, the full amount claimed. The trial was then appointed to take place two days after- wards. Matters being thus comfortably settled, I walked out to a pretty villa just outside the town, and paid a visit to Armant Joseph Lalanne, President of the Tribunal, and asked hun what he meant by signing a warrant against me, and whether he thought it likely that a man and his wife, with five children and seven servants, a carriage and pak of horses, would run away from France to escape payment of sixty odd pounds ? The poor old man was very much annoyed ; begged a thou- sand pardons ; said I was evidently quite a dif- ferent person from what had been represented to him ; and recommended me an avocat in whose hands I should place my defence, I asked what they could mean by saying that I " called" myself an Englishman : he said that a visitmg card of mine, picked up in the lodgings at Cauterets, had been produced with the address " Rua do Sacra- mento, Buenos Ayres-:" — that they all knew Bue- nos Ayres was in America, and thought me there- fore a Brazilian. I made the old gentleman blush by telling him that such was the name of the 262 THE LAW-SUIT. quarter I had inhabited at Lisbon ; and by asking hiin whether a Parisian, who had Hved in the Rue d'Enfer, Luxembourg, was necessarily a citizen of HeU and HoUand ? I went to call on Avocat Pailhe, and found an intelligent, pleasant man, in whose hands I placed my case. On the appointed day, we met at the mairie before the juge de paix ; and M. Pailhe made, I must say, a most excellent speech : he charged Bordenave with having " imposed upon the reli- gion" — meaning " good faith," of the President ; and wound up by demanding that I should be awarded six hundred francs damages for the affront put upon me. Thereupon, I declared that I could not accept any damages ; but made over, to the poor of the to\vn, whatever might be awarded to me. The old judge declared it to be a most un- fortunate and improper proceeding on the part of Bordenave, and directed him to be summoned, and offered to hear the case privately in his own study on any day that would suit my convenience. This I refused to accede to — requiring that the trial should be as pubhc as had been the affront : and, as I said that I had aheady taken a house at Pau for the winter, and could not delay my dejjai'ture, THE LAW-SUIT. 263 the trial was appointed to come oft' next w^eek on the 5th of September. We again gathered at the town-hall : and after my coachman, poor Paul, dressed in his best crim- son livery, had given excellent evidence, M, Borde- nave was examined and admitted that, so far from having removed my baggage from his house se- cretly, I had asked him himself to recommend me a waggoner, and had sent it to Bagneres by the one he had named. He then lost his temper and became very violent ; and the judge badgered him, and " diabled" him, and advised him to make it up with me. This Bordenave in his anger posi- tively refused to do. " Then," said the judge, " I am bo mid to give a written decision. I have made up my mind as to what that sentence will be, and will deliver it next Wednesday." On the Wednesday, an argumentative judgment, as closely reasoned as such French documents al- ways are, was delivered on fifty-two folio pages. In these, it was recapitulated that when the plaintiff had let me his apartment, he knew that I had been, for some days, at the Hotel des Princes ; that he must have known that I had carriage and horses, and was not very likely to have paid him 264 THE LAW-SUIT. SO high a rent unless it had inckided stablmg ; that it was not very hkely that I shoiild have moved them from the Hotel des Prmces to the Hotel Richelieu unless Bordenave had put the latter stables at my disposal ; that he could not say I had sent away my goods secretly when he himself had provided the carrier; that he could not say that I had neglected to pay the rent when he had refused to open the money bag that Paul had taken to him ; that he ought to have charged for the damages to furniture and breakages in the bill he had sent for rent, and not to have tacked on afterwards a charge for what might have been done by his own ser\^ants ; that he ought, at the same time, to have charged the wages for attend- ance which I denied having received ; and that for these and endless other reasons, I should simply and solely pay the rent of the lodgmg, without anything for stables, or for alleged breakages, or for service ; and that Bordenave should pay all my expenses and one hundred and fifty francs da- mages — to be enforced, if he refused, by all the powers of all the gendarmerie of France. CHAPTER XX. PAU. Betheram. — A legend. — Birthplace of Henry IV. — Chateau de Pau. — Abd-el-Kader. — Dearness of Pan, Unheal thi- ness of Pau. — Eaux Bonnes. — The Pass of Hourat. — The little statue of the B, V. M.— Talking Rocks.— Eaux Chaudes. — Temperature of Pau and London, Not liking to take our invalid to face the -winter in England, we had hired the first and third floors of an excellent house at the Basse Plante in Pau. The rent, until the 1st of the following June, was 4300 francs — an enormous rent for a distant provincial town ; but the English had declared the climate of Pau to be super-excellent, and French and Russians followed thither in their wake. On the 7th September, therefore, we left Bagneres de Bigorre, and, following a westward route to Lourdes, struck the Gave de Pau, and pulled up to bait at the busy village of Lestelle. *I would not have delayed to mention this little Y)lace but for its vicmity to the celebrated church 266 PAU. of pilgrimage and Calvary of Betheram, Nor, probably, should I have mentioned these further than to record the many stalls loaded with im- mense rosaries, which the pilgrims of Betheram choose to have as large as nuts, but for the enthu- siastic description of the place given by Richard's Guide des Pyrenees, and the religious sentiment so unusually proclaimed in such works. "Betheram," it says, " unites those two touching sentiments of Catholicism, devotion to the Cross and to Mary. The origin of Betheram is buried in darkness, but it assuredly existed in the fifteenth century ; and legends, which often speak as truly and more attractively than history, tell us how, in a very remote age, some children were tending sheep here when their attention was drawn by a sudden light on the rock, amid which they found a beau- tiful image of the Blessed Virgin. Priest and people poured out from the village. It was evi- dent to the mind of all that heaven willed a chapel should be built on this spot ; and as often as, de- terred by the steepness of the rock, they attempted to build it on the adjacent level ground, marvels and disasters prevented the work ; until, at last, they submitted to labour on the precise spot that heaven had chosen. " This," continues Richard, PAU. 267 "is the legendary origin of Betheram, True it is that imagination may have added details which cannot be disproved ; but ought this pretty legend to be at once disregarded because it tells us some- thing extraordinary ? Are not such incidents, on the contrary, very frequent in the history of reli- gion? We, however, do not pretend to guarantee the truth of the story ; but it is evident, from the very position of the chapel, that only the most serious motives could have caused such to be selected. The sides of the rock have been broken away at great expense, when, close at hand on either side, were two level spots that every one must have deemed far preferable. However blindly credulous we may think the people to have been, one cannot suppose that they luidertook such a labour and such an expense without some motive." There are some tolerable statues in the chapel : and some of those in the neighbouring Calvary are very fine. The people of the provinces of Beam, Basque, Bigorre, and Gascony, all look with piety towards the chapel of Betheram ; and often come liither to pray with greater fervour. Near this place, at Coarrage, are some pictu- resque ruins of the castle in which Henri IV was 268 FAU. educated, as we have said. Over the gate, the Spanish motto still remains — Lo que ha de ser, no puede fallar — meaning "What has to happen can- not fail," or, more briefly, " What must be, must be." But it was in the Chateau de Pau that this "Diable a quatre" was born. His mother travelled across France that she might be dehvered in this old capital of Beam ; and sung a hymn of the countiy all the time she was in labour. His old grandfather came to see him cradled in the great tortoiseshell which is still shown ; and having rubbed his lips with garhc and poured some wme of the country down his throat, wrapped the in- fant m his ridinsf coat and carried it off: de- cs • ' daring that, as its parents had killed all their other children by their effeminate French ways, he himself would try w^hat a real Bearnais educa- tion would do for this one. Away then went the brat; and, like Sam Weller, past through a coui'se of education, bare-headed and bare-footed, in the streets of the village. He hved through it all ; acquu-ed an iron constitution ; and at sixteen years, led a charge of cavahy at one of the many battles that then desolated France. The Chateau de Pau is a most pictm^esque PAU. 269 building. Rising on a high ground from the midst of a ckmip of fine trees on the outskirts of the town, its pointed roofs and gables and irregular outline harmonise with and domineer in every landscape in which it appears. There are no grand rooms in it. It is a fortified palace of a little sovereign of the middle ages. They showed us the three wretched rooms in which the heroic Abd-el-Kader had been so long confined. A few chairs and sofas were their only furniture — " the savages eat upon the floor!" exclaimed the porter; little knowmg that he was speaking of those whose ancestors w^ere civihsed and educated beings generations and centuries before the dissolute barbarian of ^ whom he was so proud reigned over the then equally barbarous France — • "Efc par droit de conquete et par droit de naissance." The floor of the room was ruined by the frequent ablutions of the Emu", which threatened to rot the rafters and destroy the ceiling of the great eatmg hall below, when the prisoner was removed else- where and, at length, restored to freedom. Pau is by no means a, fine town ; nor even an interesting town. Though formerly capital of the Kings of Navarre, it is inferior in its public build- 270 PAU. ings and general appearance to very many of the old provincial towns of France. The shops are poor ; the houses, of which many are bemg built for the accommodation of visitors, are wretchedly ill-designed and outrageously dear. In their eager- ness to fleece strangers, the good people of Pau are, I thmk, injurmg themselves. Napoleon had lent the chateau to the Duke and Duchess of Hamilton a year or two before I was there; and I was told that when, after a residence of some months, the visitors left and the townsfolk expressed a hope to see them again during the following winter, the Duke rephed that he could not afford to return to so expensive a place. There is a fine walk and diive called the Park, well timbered with old trees, on a bank above the Gave; from hence and from many points, the view of the far-stretching Pyrenees, with the snow-cap- ped Pic du Midi m the centre of the range, is veiy fine. In every other direction, the country- is as uninteresting as a wide elevated plain, intersected by great straight high roads, bordered by poplar trees, must ever appear to any one but a French- man. Beyond, and especially to the west, are ex- tensive marshy tracts which often carry fever and ague to Pau : so that, in truth, it must be considered PAU. 271 as very far from a healthy place of residence. Our invalid daughter had here a more serious at- tack upon her lungs than she had ever known ; and we should have left the place as soon as she was able so travel but were detained by a gastric fever, which long threatened the life of my penul- timate son, Whittingham. At length we got away in the middle of November — gladly sacrificing six or eight months of the high rent paid for our house in order to escape from this disagreeable and un- wholesome place. But I would not leave the neighbourhood of the Pyrenees without having thoroughly "done" them — seen all the valleys, towns, and villages amid which issue those famous mineral sprmgs. I had not yet visited Eaux Bonnes and Eaux Chaudes, which are as celebrated as any, and rise under the hills about twenty-five miles from Pau. We hired a light open carriage called an Americaine, and drove up the pretty valley and beside the river or Gave of Ossau. It was the beginning of Novem- ber, and the women were busy ploughing and sow- ing their wheat : often with one horse, sometimes with a cow harnessed to the plough. The men were said to be tending their cattle in the distant mountains, or copse-cutting and making charcoal. 272 PAU. We baited at a decent inn at Louvai. A fog then came on, and we saw nothing more till we got to a comparatively level space containing about two acres. On the left hand was a row of tall houses looking as if they had walked out of a town and located themselves in the Pyrenees, with a wide foot-pavement before them; on the other side of the road, was a plot of wretched grass, for all the world like a bad goose green in an English village. We were told that this was the Jardin Anglais, and that this was the Eaux Bonnes : and that the road went no further ; and that the whole was en- veloped in similar fogs two days out of three. Disgusted with everything, we bade the driver tmii his horses' heads and take us to the other celebrated Spa, called Eaux Chaudes. We returned down the hills for about a couple of miles, and, regaining our former road, turned to the left and up towards the mountains. We en- tered the defile of Hourat : it will be remembered that, at Cauterets, one of the springs there was called " Malhom^at— the bad hole". Tliis defile of Hourat is, indeed, a fearful hole ; through which, however, a magnificent road has been cut into the rocks overhanging the precipice and the river that brawls deep down below. The driver advised us PAU. 273 to wrap ourselves well up ; and we soon were met by a strong current of damp frozen air than which nothing could be more calculated to give the pul- monary complaints which the waters of Eaux Chaudes profess to cure. " At the end of the defile/' writes the French author, M. Nisard, " the traveller stops and cries out " how beautifully hor- rible !" as if anything horrid could be beautiful. Here also the mountaineer, who knows all about these mountains, and who knows how weak man is against all their avalanches, their rains and their thunders, here he, also, stops ; but it is to pray before a little stone statue of the Blessed Virgin, placed in a niche behind a grating, near which hang a faded garland and some glass beads. It is before this little statue that the Spaniards, going from Biscay to Pau, take off their pointed hats adorned with streamers ; that the peasants of the vale of Ossau doff their caps of blue cloth. Civi- lisation alone does not unbonnet : it is afraid of catching cold ; and instead of dropping a sou for the poor into the box beneath the niche, it bestows upon the little statue of the Blessed Virgin a self-satisfied reflection on the numbers of former worshippers and the fewness of those supplied by modern times, 19 274 PAU. Modern French writers are edifying. Let me quote a passage from the pretty work of M. Moreau : — " Towards the end of the defile of Hourat, a little statue of the Virgin calls for your prayers. Happy you if you have nothing to ask of heaven ; but, then, you owe it the more thanks ; and to pray to God is to thank Hun. But you, people of ' strong intellect,' beware how you cast a pitying smile on that gigantic Spaniard with iron limbs and \\T.iy muscles who is kneeling there humbly before the Madonna. He cannot always, like you, select a fine day on which to cross the Hoiu-at ; often, when he has passed this defile to return to his wife and children and his poor home in Spain, storm and tempest have overtaken him in the snow- covered Pyrenees. Gladly, then, he has remem- bered that he had showai honour to the Blessed Virgin ; and filled with faith in her power to pro- tect him, he has asked her to pray to God to stay the avalanche ; to turn the swollen torrent from his path ; to appease the whirlwind ; to stop the flooding rain ; and to guide him safely to his shel- tering cottage beyond. And saved, as he has been at these times of greatest danger, is he to forget liis protectrice l:)ecause the sun shines ? Not so ! PAU. 275 In sunshine and in rain, in tlie snows of winter and in the heats of summer, humble and grateful of heart, he repeats the same invocation — ' Blessed Virgin, pray for me and protect me.' " Traveller," concludes M. Moreau, " do you also pray ; or else weep for the faith that you have lost." There used to be some Latin inscriptions en- graven in these rocks to record the passage of celebrated personages. To show the style of the sixteenth century, I quote one of them : — " Stop, traveller ! Admire what you cannot behold, and behold what you must admire. We are only rocks yet we speak. Nature gave us bemg, and Cathe- rine gave us voice. We have beheld Catherine reading what you read ; we have heard Catherine speaking ; we have upborn Catherine sitting. Happy rocks who have, without eyes, beheld her. Happy art thou, traveller, who having eyes dost not behold her. The sight of her gave life to us who were heretofore senseless stones : if thou hadst seen her, traveller, thou wouldst have been changed to stone. The Virgin Muses inscribed this to the Vu"gin Catherine, Princess of French Navarre, who passed this way a.d. 1591." I do not think M. Moreau would bid us weep for the style of princely adulation that has been lost ! 276 PAU. The Pic du Midi soon opened grandly before us, towering above the lower clouds and fog ; and 1 rejoiced to find that the village of Eaux Chaudes retained some resemblance to a village, and was not merely a row or more of town lodging-houses. The thermal establishment is a fine buildmg ; more I should think than requisite for those who now frequent these springs. For at the time when the rocks spoke, as I have said above, and they were almost inaccessible, these springs were at the height of their fame, and drew votaries from far and near ; now that an excellent road leads to them, and that every accommodation is provided for invahds, few comparatively frequent them. In truth, these are not lively places of residence. Instead of the poor consumptive frequenters of Eaux Bonnes, whose hectic cheek and hollow cough sadden one as they pass, here we liave mvalids hopping, and hobbling about on sticks and crutches, and drmking gallons of water believed to be antMieumatic. In so far, Eaux Chaudes is more cheering than the former place ; for whereas at Eaux Bonnes the fatal termination of the pulmonary disease is often accelerated by the waters, here, at all events, people do generally leave their crutches behind them. The people of the country, the mountaineers PAU. 277 of the neighbouring districts, have, in fact, confi- dence in their antu'heiimatic virtues, and throng here in great numbers. This speaks more in their favour than any crowd of rich patients sent away by their town physicians when these latter could do nothing for them, and would not that they should die imder their hands. Doctors, however, declare that the waters of Eaux Bonnes are mcontestably beneficial in the first stage of consumption, sometimes in the second; but that they are fatal in the third stage, and that Eaux Chaudes, as they are called, although less warm than most of the thermal springs of the Pyrenees, do cure rheumatisms and neuralgias, how, why, or wherefore, they cannot quite explain. There are some beautiful walks and drives about Eaux Chaudes. The Pont d'Enfer is very roman- tic, and there are some picturesque cascades. We visited some of these on the following morning, lighted up by a bright sun ; and as the fog had cleared off from the valley on our return to Pau, the scenery about Castets, below Laruns, im- pressed itself on my memory as being very beau- tiful. The following table of temperature will enable the reader to judge whether it be worth while to 278 PAU. go to the climate of Pau rather than remain in the South of England ; since even the abominable chmate of London is so little inferior to that of this much-vaiuited Pyrenean city : — Mean Temperature of Winter Months, Centigrade. Oct. Nov. Deo. Jan. Feb. Mar. April. Mav. Near London... 48.9... 42.9 ... 39.3 ... 36 ... 38 ... 43.9 ... 49.9 ... 54 At Pau 53.6 ... 46.6 ... 41.5 ... 41.1 ... 43.9 ... 48.1 ... 52.8 ... 56 And rushing, as we English do, from place to place in search of suitable climates, from our own that is better than most, it is truly wonderful how badly we select them. A clever doctor, seeing that his patient wishes to go to the shores of the Mediter- ranean, will generally recommend them ; and the family and fellow travellers of the invahd approve — for they expect more pleasure there than elsewhere. I have known people go to Naples for sea-bathing and then marvel that it did not produce the same effect as bathing m the ocean ! They and then- doctor had all forgotten that the ocean is mfi- nitely more salt than this inland sea : and that the water at Naples is so warm that a plunge into it can produce little shock and consequent revulsion of blood. CHAPTEE XXI. FOiiBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. From Pail to Rome. — Roman Turncoats. — The Temporal Power. Argument. — Departure from Pan. — Lannemzan : no admission to the hotel because the cook was gone j)owr /aire des noces. — Martres : hotel bill fifty-nine francs ; quite satisfied with twenty-nine. -^Toulouse : great, ugly to^vn ; narrow, crooked streets, brick houses, pavements of pointed stones ; picture-gallery. The guidebook says the modern pictures are the best, because they carry one's thoughts at once to Paris. Once upon a time Tlie Hainpshire Independent newspaper, complaining that Government had spent the public money m buying three pictures by ancient masters, said, " if they will buy pictures, they might, at least, buy new paintings instead of old ones." Guidebook says also that Marshal Soult fought a battle here, 280 FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN EOME. and with twenty-five thousand men, routed three times as many English, Spaniards, and Portuguese, under Wellington. Que voulez-vous ? The French are such brave, clever fellows ! — Narhonne : Hotel de France rascally dear. — Cette : great factory of foreign wines without ever a grape ; makes better Madeira than ever came from the island. — All the country about MontpeUier under water. By ex- press tram, to Terrascon ; thence tln^ough beautiful country to Marseille. Waited for carriage and horses from Toulouse, and for chests of china and plate from England. They arrived by passenger- train ; cost eight hundred and ninety-eight francs. All on board the Marie Antoinette steamer. Had paid for passage and food to Civita Veccliia. They refused us the grub without extra payment. Agreed with other first-class passengers, and we all nicked them by going on shore at Genoa, and dining at Hotel de la Croix de Malte. Saw agent of the company ; he admitted our right to food ; said his principals were scoundrels, and referred us to them. No redress. Mem. — Never to go by Marie Antoinette again. N.B. — I beheve she is gone to " Davy's Locker. "^ — Leghorn harbour. — - Beautiful night. — Landed at Civita Vecchia : best place to land at in the world ; tarifi" for every- FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. 281 thing ; no cheating, no noise, no confusion. — Found lascia loassare for my baggage. Custom House people said it would only clear through the gates of Rome what was on my carriage ; that the rest must go to Custom House. So hked two carriages and seven horses, besides my own britzska, to take as much baggage as possible. Put a servant or two and child m each, and away. Paid five pauls to the guard who carried my passport to the gate of Civita Vecchia; five pauls to the guard who looked at the passport at the gate ; five pauls to the one who did ditto at the gate of Rome ; five pauls to the Custom House officers who brought out the lascia jDassare ; three pauls to the porters at the gate, who bowed m obedience to it, and let us pass. Now I ask the reader if this is not the pleasant- est way of getting over the ground, both for him- self and me ? Here have I carried him a very long journey at more than speed of express-train ; and here have I got into Rome, bag and baggage ; greeted with obsequious civility by the medium of a few pauls which served to pay the wages of the Custom House officers whom the state was obhged to keep up against smugglers, which the banker, who had procured us the lascia passarCt had 282 FOEBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. assured it that we wei-e not. Talk not of bribery and meanness ! It was no such thing. They re- ceived their wages from me instead of from their own government, and I paid them for forbearance and civihty. Those who are unwilling to pay for such, had better not travel. We were in Kome safe and sound ; but some carriages that had passed along the same I'oad ' from Civita Vecchia, two hours after us, were stop- ped by brigands, and their inmates stripped of all they possessed. A foreign bishop amongst them was robbed of one thousand napoleons. I wonder whether he continued, as much as heretofore, to admire the exercise of the temporal power ! We were in Rome safe and sound ; but we were not yet at an hotel. I was drivuig our own horses over that most fearful of all pavement, — it is made of lava so hard that no iron shoe of horse can take any hold of it (Romans generally drive their horses unshod as to their hinder feet, which they harden with some comj30sition), — I was driving our horses, when down shpped one of them on that most detestable pavement. Our coachman, Paul, sprang from one of the other carriages, and ran up with the French footman whom I had brought from Pau, I flung the rems to them, helped my FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. 283 wife to descend from the driving-seat where she had sat beside me ; and leavmg them to raise the horse, started with her on foot towards the Hotel delle Minerva. I was puzzled in the darkness (for it was eight o'clock of the 3rd of December) in those narrow streets, and addressed myself to an elderly and most respectable-looking priest with an unusually large three-cornered hat. He in- sisted upon accompanying us, and I thus formed an acquaintance with one who, calling next morn- ing to inquire how we were, devoted himself to our service with a constancy that was most useful and obliging. With the help of this Don Filippo (such I dis- covered to be his designation), the Custom House authorities were induced to sign, without even opening the chests, a declaration that all my effects were used and personal to myself, and they were delivered up to me duty free ; and I was enabled to rent the Palazzo Albani, at the Quattro Fontani, until the end of June, for 1,250 scudi, or £260. Let not the reader fear that I am about to inflict Rome upon him. I have done it once sys- tematically, years ago, in my Transalpine Memoirs, and incidentally in one of the cantos of my Beg- rjars Coin, and m that historical novel to which 284 FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. Messrs. Hurst & Blackett persuaded me to give the name of Modern Society in Rome. If, then, the reader is not already acquainted with Rome, it is his own fault, not mine, and he must seek that knowledge in my other books. I shall here only take note of such personal, political, and social experiences as he could not find recorded elsewhere. And first of all, of that same historical novel. I went to the Vatican to announce our return to Rome to our old friend Monsignore Talbot, one of the " Camerieri Segreti" of the Pope, when he surprised me by informing me that my book was forbidden in Rome. " Forbidden !" I exclaimed. " Wliat have you found m it against reUgion T "Not on theological grounds," he answered. *' There is nothing in it that divines could object to; but forbidden by the police, in deference to an outcry raised against it by the Roman Princes." " I have only recorded how they acted dming the earlier days of the present Pope's reign : those whom I have brought forward were public political characters. If they have changed their opinions, it is not my fault." "People do not like to have even that recorded. FOEBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. 285 But you have represented the Koman young men as fortune-hunters. It is very true they are so : your descriptions were so graphic that, as I read, I laughed till the tears ran down my cheeks ; but people do not like this, either, to be said of them. And moreover," he said, more seriously, "you have given a personal description of the Secretary of State, Cardinal AntoneUi : you have spoken of his lantern cheeks and niitcracker jaws" . I had thought Cardinal AntonelH, in truth, too much occupied with cares of state and the in- terests of his own family to care what any one thought of liis person ; but I remembered that Lord Chesterfield wrote of a prime mmister, the first politician of his age, who only loved to be complimented on his very inferior poetry ; and I thought that perhaps Cardinal AntoneUi set up for being a beauty. I went to Piale's library, in the Piazza di Spagna, and asked him what he knew of the book. He knew that, whereas he had sent for three or four copies, which had cost him a guinea and a half apiece, they had all been seized by the police ; whereat, of course, he was very angry with the author. Spithover, the other bookseller, told me that he had received a dozen copies from England, 286 FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. but that he had obtained permission to send them out of the Roman territories, and so had escaped confiscation. He had sent them, he said, to a correspondent at Florence, and one copy of them retiu"ned to Kome m every ambassador's bag. So anxious, indeed, were people to obtain the work, that I was told by a speculative gentleman that, if I could manage to introduce fifty copies for him, h© would gladly pay me the pubhsher's price ; because he knew that he could loan them all out to read at half-a-crown a volume ! And all this owing to the silly prohibition of the government ! without which no one probably of the Romans would ever have heard of the work. But I am forgetful. They would have heard of it. Princess Doria, daughter of the Earl of Shrews- bury, chanced to be in London at the time it was published. It made some little noise there. Mar- quis d'Azeglio, Mioister of Sardinia, told me that he had immediately sent off a copy of it to poor Cavour ; and I have heard, from one present, that it was discussed and my statements canvassed in the imperial circle at Compiegne ; and so Princess Doria Pamphilj heard of it. She unagined that she herself was alluded to m it under a fictitious FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. 287 name ; and her husband did not like any record of the Uberal part he had played during the re- volution, when he was minister of war under Mamiani. So he, too, joined in gettmg up the hue and cry against me. Perhaps he was mortified that I could not allude to the pretty little temple of white marble which he has since built in the grounds of his villa, in memory, as the inscription tells us, of the brave French soldiers who fell near that spot in one of the battles during that siege of Rome. Mark, oh reader ! I pray thee, mark ! This politician, who had been minister of war at the beginning of the revolution, and, as such, had, however unintentionally, led on his countrymen towards the Kepublic which these French invaders drowned in blood — this former minister of Rome raised a temple to the slaughterers of his own people ; and engraved words to their praise and in their honour, without the slightest allusion to the Roman countrymen and umquhile followers of himself, whom those French invaders had slain ! And so a cry was got up against me for writing 288 FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME, contemporary history. It may, indeed, have been a mistake on my part to attempt to blend fiction and reahty. But with such a plan, it was impos- sible to w^rite the history of those times without introducing anecdotes that were known to every- one in Kome, and without pourtrajdng the charac- teristics of the different classes who looked on or took part in the revolution. I described classes : if individuals thought the cap fitted them and would put it on, that was not my fault. Many of the gentry now wished that their hberal ten- dencies should be forgotten ; and all sorts of absurd stories were imagined by strangers, who accused me of " making a bad return for the hospitahty with which the Romans had received me three years before." This was an English version of the matter. Our countrymen knew not that hospitality, as it is understood in England, does not obtain and is not expected in Rome : — that Romans never make any return, in the English sense of the word, for the civilities they receive ; and that the only w^ay in which they showed their " hospitality" to me was FORBIDDEN B00K8 IN ROME. 289 by permitting me to feed and entertain them gratis. That these are trivial personalities, we are all aware. But the would-be heroic Romans declare that nothmg can be trivial at Rome. And, in sober sadness, I admit that what would be unimportant elsewhere is not so here, where it may reflect back, from these spiteful time-servers, to the scandal of religion itself — as we shall see. I coidd, however, never distinctly ascertain how or by whose orders the volumes had, in reahty, been prohibited. I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with the learned and amiable theolo- gian who examines most English publications ; and asked him whether it really did contain any theo- logical error, as Father Waterworth, the head of the Jesuits in London, had been prevented, by his superiors, from publishmg a review which he him- self had written in its favoiu^ : the Roman divine assured me that he had had no hand in the matter. I went to the Maestro dei Sacri Palazzi, who, I was informed, was the head inquisitor for the Index : the fine old monk received me courteously ; and knowing nothing about it, but promising to mquire, requested me to call on him again. I did so ; and he had then evidently learned something 290 FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. that he wished to conceal. He hesitated much in speaking ; said that he was informed that there were " some inexact statements in the book that might produce wrong impressions in Rome"; — that I " ought not to marvel at the prohibition because, out of one hundred books published m France, he did not allow ten to enter the Pontifical States"; — that "no satii'e was ever allowed to enter, be- cause it was improper for one Christian to laugh at another Christian"; — and that "Government was bound to forbid, not only everything that was opposed to morality and faith, but also to the kmdly feeling of all to all." One friend cut to the root of the matter, say- ing to me, — " The book was excluded by the pri- vate mfluence of some Romans with the pohce : you can easily acquh-e more influence than they in the same quarter, and make the police rescind their prohibition." By bribery ? I had no wish to try. But some of the consequences of all this hubbub were curious : and I only dwell so much on it to show how they manage matters m Rome. Mon- signore Talbot, before mentioned, dined with us — meeting a large party of Enghsh : he said that he had been so " called to account in high quarters" FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. 291 for having accepted the invitation, that he prayed us not to ask him again ! Was there not in the then state of Rome any- thing more worthy to occupy the mind of "high quarters" — of Cardinal Antonelli ? I called upon his Eminence, as I had often done during my former visit to Rome; and was told, by his gentleman, that he was " at home." I sent m my card, however ; and soon after, the same gentleman rushed do^vn to express his regret that he had made a mistake; for that the Cardinal had just gone mto the garden. "To avoid me," I said to some one. "As liis Eminence lives on the third floor, I only hope he has broken his neck m jumpmg down into the garden; I shall so have been a benefactor to Rome and to religion." But the old monk in white said that satire was very naughty : let us turn to what was more seri- ous. Candlemas Day was approaching — that fes- tival on which the parish priest in every church distributes wax tapers to the congregation in allegorical remembrance of the prophecy that the Infant Saviour should prove " a light to enlighten the Gentiles"; and which the Pope also distributes to those to whom he wishes to show favour and 292 FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. consideration. Three years before, during High Mass at St. Peter's, I had received from his hand one nearly as tall as myself. My wife now stated to Monsignor Talbot, who is the official inter- mediary between the English in Rome and the Pope for all such matters, that I should wish to be again admitted to receive a candle and the Pope's blessmg on the Pmification ; and that she and her three daughters wished to be presented to His Holiness on his first reception. Monsignor Talbot advised that we had better not ask for either ; that it would probably be refused ; that I had offended the leading members of the Roman society, and that the Pope could not act in oppo- sition to their feeling ! Wliat say you to that, most devout approver of the temporal power? This was an official answer to a request made through the regular official channel, and I am therefore justified m publishing it. Here was a man whose father had made great sacrifices in joining the CathoHc Church ; who had himself founded chapels and written, m sup- port of religion, works that had been approved by the highest ecclesiastical authorities in England and in America ; who had converted many to the faith ; and who now, with a convert wife and her FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. 293 daughter, was seeking a spiritual good — or what is dehvered as a spiritual good — from the head of the church : — this man was repelled lest the gentry of Home should be displeased. For, be it re- membered, some spii'itual good is suj)posed to follow the blessing of the Pope, whether delivered at a private audience or in St. Peter's with the candle : — that spiritual good was refused out of deference to some of the gentry of Pome ! Verily, although I had rejoiced at having been the cause that Cardinal Antonelli had risked break- ing his neck by jumping out of a window, I was sorry to have occasioned poor good Pio Nono to forget his apostolic character in deference to lay- men whom I knew that he himself despised from the bottom of his heart. The character of chief pontiff is apparently in- compatible with that of leader of the fashionable society of Pome. My devotion to the temporal power of the Pope had received a rude shock. It received another about this same time : Sir Moses Montefiore arrived in Pome to endeavour to restore the child Mortara to his Jewish parents. I called at his hotel, and introduced myself to the fine old man. I told him that I was an English 294 FORBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. Catholic ; but that I sympathised with him in the object of his journey ; that I prayed him not to charge upon my rehgion an act which I reprobated as much as hunself ; and I placed myself at his disposal if he thought that I could be of any use in furthering the object that had brought him to Rome, In fact, however, the Pope, as Pope, was per- fectly right. No Christian priest could surrender a baptised child to be brought up as a Jew, But, as Sovereign, he was perfectly wrong. As Sove- reign, he had no right to detain a child from the custody of its parents in deference to any religious preference whatever. The character of Pope and the character of temporal Sovereign were, therefore, incompatible the one mth the other. In case these volumes should be also forbidden in Rome, in deference to the wishes of some whom I have named in this chapter, I hereby remind the reader that I have spoken of these people in their public official character and of the manner in which they performed those public duties which they were paid for transacting. I respect the domestic privacy even of these ; but, in their public capacity, they are public property ; and I have as much FOKBIDDEN BOOKS IN ROME. 295 right to remark upon the way in which they trans- act the duties they have undertaken, as I have to criticise the incivility of any pubhc servant who delays the delivery of a passport or neglects to answer a letter. CHAPTER XXIL ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. Tailors at Court. — A J.P. in the Olden Times. — F.M. the Duke of Wellington. — Taking the Oath. — Journey from Spa. — SchaflThausen and Niagara. — Switzerland. — St. Go- thard. — An American Traveller. — Lugano. — Blockade of the Ticino. — An Evening Drive. — An Austrian Corps de Garde. — San Salvadore. — The Frontier of Lombardy. — General Singer. — Again at Lugano. — Again at the Fron- tier. — The Cow and the Sword. — Away ! away ! Although I was not to have a candle from His Holiness, and we were not to be presented to him, our daughters wished to see the public services and ceremonies ; and we procured tickets of admission to the tribune erected in St. Peter's for the ac- commodation of ladies. I put on my deputy-heu- tenant uniform, as enabling me to conduct them more easily through the crowd. A military uni- form is very useful on the continent ; where, as a friend once said to me, everybody believes that, if you are not a soldier, you must be a tailor. Not ANTE-KAILROAD TRAVELLING. 297 that being a tailor is always a drawback. Some years ago, at Florence, the late Sir Colin Halkett thought it his duty to intimate to the Grand Duke that one of the guests at Pitti Palace was his own snip in London. " Qu'importe !" said the good-natured sovereign. " They are all welcome, if they come to spend at Florence what they have earned from you in Lon- don. You thus benefit us doubly," And, on this principle, as somebody insists upon my having a full-length portrait of myself painted tliis winter, I will have myself represented as a deputy-lieutenant ; for fear the painting should be doomed to remain in Italy. That admission to the deputy-lieutenantship and county magistracy of England is altogether, how- ever, a comical proceeding. I presume that both dignities are to be respected as " venerable institu- tions." My grandfather, who was lord of his own manor in Lmcohishire and prebendary of Lincoln Cathedral, as his forbears had been before him, named, " in the good old days of Adam and Eve," his son a county magistrate when he was five years old. The then lord-lieutenant, or, to give him his proper title, lord admiral of Lincolnshire, had written to my grandfather that he was about to 298 ANTE-EAILROAD TRAVELLING. name a new batch of magistrates, and asked if he would wish any friend of his to be put on the Hst. Amongst others, my grandfather proposed his son, whose age was well known to his correspondent : and so, at the age of fifty, he was able to surprise a meeting of brother magistrates in Lmcolnshire, his seniors in age, by telling them that he had been in the commission about forty years longer than any of them. He had lived at his coUege in Ox- ford, and had then become a Catholic. To be a Catholic in England was about as bad, in the eyes of the government of those days, as it was, in Rome, to write a book recording how Roman princes had turned their coats. I, myself, having been born a CathoHc, could not aspire to the honours of the J, P. But, in 1829, after Catholic emancipation, our Lincolnshire agent wrote that he had sent in my name as a matter of course, and had had me put on the commission of the peace for the three divisions of Lindsey, Holland, and Kestevan. There the matter began and ended, for I had sought what was considered a more pre- ferable " location"; and had taken up my residence in the south of Hampshire. It was not, however, a matter of coiu'se that I should be in the commission of the peace in Hants. ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 299 " F.M. the Duke of Wellington," was our lord- lieutenant ; and, although he had declared that the fear of civil war had induced him to propose Catho- lic emancipation, (which Sir R. Peel had helped to carry through, although he proclaimed that he did not consider it either necessary or expedient) yet the Duke had no fear that my co-religionists would take up arms to assert my individual pretensions. I was known to be an advanced liberal ; and, therefore, at the very same time when he was making Mr. Lobb, a Tory agent and silk mercer in Southampton, a county magistrate and deputy lieutenant, he wrote to me that he considered that there was no lack of magistrates in the county ; but that he would beg leave to call upon me in case of any Chartist riot, or similar emergency. This I objected to — telling his Grace that, if I were already named, I should, of course, do my duty ; but that I would not be deprived of that to which I was now entitled, and have it thrust upon me, perhaps, hereafter, for the convenience of his go- vernment. What a characteristic answer the old boy wrote ! F.M. the Duke of Wellington pre- sented his compliments and begged to assure me that he would take care not " to call upon me under any emergency." 300 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. However, the conqueror at Waterloo was obliged to give in. His Tory ministry was at an end ; the Wliigs succeeded ; and, although the Duke re- mained Lord Lieutenant of Hants, he was con- strained to see me appointed by the Lord Chan- cellor. He submitted with a good grace, or, per- haps, he had forgotten all about it : for he after- wards made me one of his deputy lieutenants with- any hesitation. And thus it came to pass that I was entitled to put on an uniform in order the better to escort my wife and daughters to the crowded ceremonies at St. Peter's. I must here be excused for mentioning a curious incident that occurred when I had had to qualify for the commission in the county of Devon. I went down to Exeter by appointment with the clerk of the peace ; but, when about to take the oath, dis- covered that that functionary had omitted to pro- cure the oath devised for Catholics, as he had been directed to do. He was in great distress and per- plexity to excuse his negligence, when I said — " If it is all the same to you, Mr. — , I will take the usual Protestant oath with the omission of only two words." "Only two words, sir !" he exclaimed: "why ANTE-KAILROAD TRAVELLING. 301 that would obviate every difficulty and delay ! Wliat are the words ?" " Or spiritual," I answered. " Let me omit these two words, and I will swear all the rest as willingly as Bishop Phillpotts himself." The clerk of the peace was delighted at my suggestion, and I accordingly swore that "no foreign prince, potentate, or prelate hath or ought to have any power temporal within this realm." After the word "temporal," I left out the words " or spiritual," not only because they asserted a lie — for I knew that the Pope had some spiritual power — but because I thought that he ought to have some in England. The Exeter functionary, however, was overjoyed. He took his fees ; and I daresay that I have ad- ministered justice m Devon as honestly as I should have done if I had taken the whole Catholic oath, or sworn the untruths contained in the Protestant declaration. I have said that I went to St. Peter's m uniform. Let it not, however, be supposed that it used to be such an easy matter for those who were en- titled to wear them to take a complete uniform into Rome. I had succeeded in doing so by the merest chance, and by rare good luck. In 1853, 302 ANTE- RAILROAD TRAVELLING. we had toiled up the hilly road that leads from Spa, past the mystic Sauveniere fountain ; we had trotted over the dreary but much-bepraised Eisen- berge ; we had dipped down into the beautiful and secluded dell where slumbered the baths of Birt- rich ; we had crossed the pretty Moselle, in a ferry boat, at Alf ; and had looked down upon the ma- jestic E,hme at Bingen ; for ten days, we had drank the pleasant waters and inhaled the foul smells of Schwalbach ; we had loitered some hours in the pretty httle world of Baden-Baden ; at Offenberg, we had entered the wilds of the Black Forest, and had threaded its beautiful ravines to Freiberg, and down again on the opposite side ; most expressive of all, we had exchanged Murray's handbook of North Germany for his diminutive twin-brother of Switzerland ; and, at last, we had stood in the court of the gingerbread, Yauxhall-Gothic castle that usurps the left bank of the Bhinefalls at Schaifhausen, where Frau Bleuler, the dragon chatelaine of the castle, demanded one franc per head before she would allow us to catch a glimpse of the waterfall. " If heaven permits such desecration," I observed, " what right have we to complain ?" "Monsieur," she replied, "the property is my ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 303 own ; and I have a right to make what charge I please." "When," I said, "the Saviour scourged the money changers and those who sold doves from the temple, it was not because they asked exorbitant prices ; but the very fact of taking money in His house desecrated it into a den of thieves. This waterfall is the temple of the Lord of nature !" She was somewhat abashed ; took five francs for seven of us, and admitted us into her den. But the memory of Niagara was fresh upon us. Before we had come in sight of the Bhinefalls, the span of the little river had proved that no great mass of water was there to be hurled below ; these neighbouring banks seemed to contract still more under the thought of Niagara; and those of Niagara expanded, to our mind's eye, when we contemplated the utmost that Europe could accom]3lish. For it is here impossible to prevent the mind from draw- ing odious comparisons. The fall of Schaffhausen is so like that of Niagara on the American side — omitting altogether the great Horse Shoe fall — is so like, and yet so diminutive in its likeness — that one smiles at what appears to be an attempt at rivalry. In truth, the so-called cascade of Schaff- hausen is not a cascade : it is a rapid, a slide, a 304 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. shoot : it is not a tumble-down ; it is not a water- fall. Such, however, as it is, it is very grand ; but let those who would see it to most advantage and judge of it most truly, avoid Frau Bleuler's puppet- show exliibition, and look at it from the beach beneath Webb's Hotel on the opposite side, or from the ferry boat that crosses the stream lower down. We had slept at the great Hotel Bauer at Zurich, and regretted that it could give no view of the lake ; we had crossed the bold ridge of the Albis, and had driven through magnificent scenery to the little town of Zug ; we had ckcled one end of its pretty waters, and had seen the Righi and jagged Mount Pilate uprise as we approached the glorious shores of Lucerne ; we had been drenched by rain in an open pleasure boat on lake Alpnach durmg a thunder-storm, when Mount Pilate over- head clamoured to Righi on the opposite side, and flashes of molten fire rushed from the unseen sum- mits of the distant snow-capped Alps ; we had again circled Pighi and the shores of Zug ; had passed the spot where Tell perpetrated what Mr. Murray daintily insinuates was a murder, and had driven over the to^vn buried, not fifty years ago, under the wild earth avalanche of Goldau ; we had ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 305 longed to linger near the savage-looking little lake of Lowertz, and at the romantic, but unknown and secluded, baths of Sewen ; we had slept amid the old walls of heroic Schwitz ; had embarked on the steamer at Brunnen ; and, beneath clouds low- hanging on the lake of Uri, had passed at the foot of those shelving crags, so steep that no road can be cut on their beethng sides, where the heroes of the Rutli could alone find footmg, and where Tell sprang to land from the wave-tossed bark of the Austrian tyrant. We had landed at Fluellen and, at his native town of Altdorf, had entered the great gorge of the Eeuss ; at Amsteg, we had harnessed two native chevaux de 7'enfort before our English horses, that we dared not (although my poor Norfolk grey was one of them) trust further alone amid the wild scenery before us ; slowly we had toiled up the ravine, over the foam-bespattered Devil's-bridge, through the hole of Uri, across the little meadow of Untersee ; marking and marvelling how the science of modern engineers had not been able to improve upon that of the twelfth century, but had traced this new and marvellous road within a few yards of that which, in the year 1118, the Abbot of Einsiedeln had made across 306 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. tlie Alp ; not so wide, indeed, for wheel carriages then existed not ; but answering the requirements of pack-horse traiBc as perfectly as the modern road meets those of more bulky commerce. Above the village of Aspenthal, by zig-zag stretches, had we clomb the rounded side of S. Gothard itself; and through dense fogs, laboured on till our leaders stopped, of their own accord, beside a large build- ing, of which the grey clouds prevented us from seeing the outhne. They were detached ; the Swiss postboys placed the drags under the wheels of our two carriages, and bade heaven speed us through the fog along the unknown road that led before us adown the precipitous Alps. The clouds were soon left above ; but then, in- deed, our undertakmg appeared more hazardous. How would horses accustomed only to the plains of Hampshire, how would a French coachman, im- taught beyond the streets of Boulogne and Paris, descend in safety into the depth beneath? — how would my own brain, surcharged with anxiety for the risk to which I had exposed my family, meet scenery, and precipices, and waterfalls, such as I knew must lie before and beside me ? The road began to circle, as does that of no other passage of the Alps ; the angles were acute ; no parapet pro- ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 307 tected them from the precipices ; and while, at each turn, the heads of the horses protruded over the road side and above the brawHng torrent that, tumbling from the higher cliffs, rushed, white with foam, some hundred feet beneath them, I could but commend my charge to Providence, and, stop- ping the horses I myself drove at the edge of a precipice, call back to the coachman to drive most gently round each angle of the road, lest the stumbling of a horse, or the breaking of a rein or of the drag, might precipitate his carriage into the abyss beneath. Before sunset, we arrived at Airolo. Nothing of one drag and but little of the other remained to tell the tale of the service they had seen. The follovdng day was Sunday, and we made it a day of rest. " Ma, signore," said the landlord of " I tre Re," — and what a pleasure it then was to hear Italian spoken agam, — '" Ma, signore, I understand that you are going to Lugano ; but you will not be able to enter Lombardy at Como on account of the blockade." " What blockade ?" I asked. " The blockade of Canton Ticino by the Aus- trians, which they have maintained since the 308 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. beginning of February. They do not allow any- thing to pass in or out between Lombardy and Ticino. You had better put your carriage and horses on board the Piedmontese steamer at Ma- gadisio, and land at the other end of the Lago Maggiore, so that it may appear as if you came from Piedmont." " I guess that ive shall have no difficulty at all in gomg through," observed, in a strong American accent, a lady who stood near us in the salle-a- manger of the little mn. "We always behave pleasant and conciliating to all the officers, and never find any difficulty. Anyhow, I have seen a great deal of European travelling, and we always meet a great deal of good society. We knew Lady Wightman and her daughter at Lucerne — her husband is one of the British Queen's chancellors. And, last year, we met a lord on the Rhine. We calculate to go by Como, don't we ?" she asked, turning: to her daugfhter. " No, mama ; by Magadhio and Arona on the Lago Maggiore," replied the girl. " Good bye," said the mother, curtseying conde- scendingly to us. "I hope you will reahse a great deal of pleasure, and meet with a great deal of good company. I am sure we shall !" ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 309 Thereupon, she scrambled into her little voiturier caleche ; and, with many apologetic reasons why she had travelled this time without any servant, disappeared down the narrow lane of the village. Thus, in a conversation into which this unedu- cated, vulgar American woman thrust herself — and I beg Europeans not to think I imply that vulgarity and want of education are essentially American — we became first acquainted with the blockade of the Ticino, and that we might experi- ence some difficulty m passing from it to Lombardy. However, we could not cross back again over the St. Gothard ; and, on the next morning, I drove gaily forwards. The descent by the valley of the Ticino is hke most drives through Alpine gorges ; but the pass by Dazio Grande, where the valley narrowed itself over the torrent which cleaves its way and squeezes itself through the overhanging rocks, is more won- derful than the Devil's Bridge on the other side ; and is equalled by no other pass that I remember. In fact, if we consider, as in strict geography we must, that the pass of St. Gothard begins mth the Lake of Uri — that is to say, at the bottom of the ravine of the Rheuss, up which the lake of the Four Cantons forces itself — and ends at the roman- 310 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. tic, castellated walls of Bellinzona, I believe that we shall all admit it to be unrivalled in magnificent scenery by any other Alpme road. But below Bellinzona, another spur of the Alps still gu't m the valley to the east, and we had to toil over the chestnut-covered ridge of Monte Cenere before we could descend into the pretty ravine that led us to the smilmg town of Lugano, and to the lake that washes its arcaded streets. The scenery of the Lake of Lugano is a com- mingling of the Swiss and of the Italian scenery that is very beautiful. The town lies at its northern end on a slope of hills covered with vines and mulberry trees. On the left hand, the lake branches off mto the more barren recesses of the rocky Alps towards Como. On the right, the sugar-loaf peak of San Salvadore rises, a quarter of a mile from the town, and, covered with chest- nut trees and evergreens, springs almost perpen- dicular to the height of two thousand feet from the lake. The mountains that encircle the lake are almost everywhere perpendicular — their peaks jagged and tinged with the ever- varying hues of an Italian sun ; while their bases teem mth the luxurious growth of the plams of Briante ; and mulberries, vines, figs, and olive trees overhang ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 311 fields of Indian corn, pumpkins, and blossoming buck wheat. A magnificent-looking building recommended itself to us as the Albergo del Lago ; and we secured a suite of handsome apartments overlook- ing the lake, and established ourselves for one week. We were at tea that evening, when the waiter brought in some copies of the Times newspaper, sent for my perusal, he said, by a signore in the sala. When I carried them back to him, I found that he belonged to a party of English, Swiss, and Ticinese, who were engaged on the projected rail- road through the bowels of the St. Gothard, which I had just passed over. Very delightful such rail- way travelling will be for those whose only object is to arrive at the end of their journey ; and, good reader, if I had not foreseen that thou wouldst soon be in the number of those who will hiury forwards to reach places where they have nothing to do and where no one expects them, I would not have de- scribed to thee, even cursorily, the beautiful scenery we had passed since leaving Spa, and of which thou wilt gam but scant ideas in the railway carriages of modern times. Thou may est, how- ever, read this very book the while thou speedest 312 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. forwards ; and so learn something of the country thou hast skimmed over and under. " But how do you mean to get through to Milan ?" asked one of the company, alluding to the Austrian blockade. I repHed that I had not known of its existence until I had entered Ticino ; but could not think it apphed to foreigners traveUing, as I was, with a foreign office passport vise at the Austrian Embassy in London. " Can't say !" repKed the Enghshman. " I and my friend were examining the church at BeUin- zona this morning, when an Enghsh lady came up to me in the greatest state of excitement, and claimed our protection as fellow subjects. ' Would you beheve it,' she exclaimed ; ' I was travelling quietly to Milan on the coupe of the dihgence, and, last evening, when we were within a mile or two of Como, I w^as dragged out of my place ; my lug- gage was taken down and put beside me on the road ; I was surrounded by soldiers ; and, amidst a jabbering of German and Italian that I could not imderstand, I was thrust into another dihgence that came by, and brought back here to Bellinzona. What can tliey mean by such outrageous conduct V I told her all about the blockade," contmued my ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 313 informant ; " and advised lier to go to Megadino, whence she could enter Lombardy by the Piemont- ese steamer on Lago Maggiore." As far as I can understand it, the blockade was proclaimed after a mad attempt to get up an insur- rection in Milan, in which some natives of the Ticino canton were supposed to be imphcated ; and it is now maintained by the Austrian govern- ment until it can obtain, either from the canton or from the general Swiss confederation, redress for certain grievances of which it complains. On the afternoon of the following day, I ordered Paul to bring the britzska to the door at three o'clock. It was a beautifid afternoon, and away I drove — my wife beside me on the box and, in the inside, our three girls and two children. We turned up from the Lugano branch of our lake, crossed the ridge which joins the penmsular rock of San Salvadore to the highlands of the north ; and passing another small lake on our right, de- scended again to the shores of Lago Lugano, which had come round to the opposite side of San Salva- dore. We skirted our pretty lake for some miles, and then followed a brawling stream by which it outpoured itself into the Lago Maggiore, the level of which is two thousand feet lower. The people 314 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. of the villages we passed stood in evident wonder — either at the sight of an Enghsh equipage or at the danger into which they thought we were rush- ing headlong. On the opposite side of the Uttle river, we passed every now and then a sentinel in the Austrian uniform — white trousers and drab surcoat, — who handled his musket and glared at us as if he would like to use it. At length, the road shewed less signs of traffic ; grass grew amongst its flints ; and I was slowly following it up a steep sandbank, when an Austrian sentinel appeared at the top and hallooed out something. I knew not to whom he was calling — for I had forgotten the German I had learned twenty-five years before at Vienna and Dresden — and I drove on. He hugged his musket furiously ; shook him- self ; ran from side to side, and sent forth redoubled shrieks — w^e could not tell whether of warning to others or of personal terror. Another hero with a musket, and then another appeared on the sand- bank ; while about a dozen soldiers in undress, clambered over the hedges and swarmed about us, apparently in as great confusion as ants when a heel has invaded then* hillock. By this time, I had driven up to the top of the sandbank. Here was a bar made to be cast across the road. It was now ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 315 open ; but the soldiers, armed and unarmed, thronged about ; and I reined in my horses. Paul jumped from the rumble ; and trying to look grave, while his face showed the amiable feelings of every Frenchman towards an Austrian soldier, ran to the head of the horses. The sierht of his crimson livery and cockade seemed to puzzle them still more ; they all began talking at once ; while, with a look of innocent ignorance, I asked what was the matter. One in an undress came up, and said something about the " blocco." " Oh, the blockade !" I exclaimed. " Is this the Austrian frontier ?" " Si, signore: and no one can pass." " But I am not a Ticmese. I am an English- man, and know nothing of your quarrels." " Why do you come here ?" he asked suspiciously. " I am taking a drive with my family. We want to go to Lumo to look at the Lago Maggiore and then return. Let me speak to the officer who commands this post." ' ' He has been sent for, and will be here in a moment." An armistice being thus declared, the sentinels on the bank resumed their walk ; the soldiers 316 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. in undress threw themselves on the ground beside the road ; two labourers from a field on the Ticino side came up to the hedge ; and we all began a friendly conversation on the rigidity of the blocco. A young officer in military undress soon came down to us, and politely expressed his inability to permit us to pass ; his orders to maintain the blockade being most stringent : he himself had no power to grant passes ; but he invited me back to his quarters, where he showed me a proclamation, by General Smger, Commandant at Como, which empowered the officers commanding on the roads to Varese and Milan to grant passes to travellers not being Ticinese. Luino, on the Lago Maggiore, was, he said, about a mile distant ; and he did not seem to think we lost much by not being able to visit it. When we returned to my carriage, I found that my family had been much amused by a Ticinese dog that had made frequent rushes across the frontier line, darting back instantly, and barking in triumph and delight at having defied the enemy. A beautiful moon lighted us back to our hotel at eight o'clock. The mountain of San Salvadore is the most ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 317 striking feature of the lake of Lugano. It rises, as I have said, almost perpendicular on three sides, to the height of two thousand feet above the lake ; and would stand in the centre of it, but that, on the fourth side, it is joined by a low ridge to the further mountains. Vines, mulberries, and olive trees, with Indian corn and millet, clothe the base of it as of the other hills ; and frequent farm- houses and church steeples peep out above them, and Italianise the scene. Higher up, woods of Spanish chestnut are rooted in the fissures of the rock and overhang the pathway that winds, round and round it, to the summit. There, on the highest pinnacle, a cottage and a chapel still stand, although unused and unoccupied. The view from hence is magnificent ; the lake of Lugano at the base on three sides ; a smaller lake on the fourth ; Lago Maggiore glimmering between the peaks to the westward ; the snow-topped ridges that gird in the lake of Como to the west ; Monte Rosa, gloriously isolated and standing out from its Alpine ridge, on the north ; and the wide plains of Lom- bardy and Piedmont, fading in mist, in the southern distance. Fixed in the outer wall of the chapel is a monu- mental slab to a Polish exile, who, says an inscrip- 318 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. tion, had found m Ticino the freedom he had sought in vam in his own coimtiy, and who had died one month too soon to rejoice in the blessed revohition of Warsaw — which the waiter then, doubtless, thought enduring ! Here is, also, a tomb, with a pretty simple inscription to a yomig English wife w4io had died m one of the villages near, and whose body had been carried hither at her own request. She was right ; For never was holier hermitage given, Whence the sonl might unfurl its young pinions for heaven. We had intended to loiter away on the Italian lakes six weeks of the summer until the weather should be cool enough for us to travel more com- fortably to Rome. The people of Lugano could not understand our lingering ten days on their lovely lake ; and the banker, Au^oldi (who had been recommended to me by Knorre et fils, of Lucerne, and who charged me two per cent, com- mission, and justified the charge by showing that Messrs. Knorre had made me pay the same, though they disguised half of it by calling it premium for gold on which, he said, none was payable), this honest banker came and seriously proposed to me to purchase the great hotel in which we were living, and to adopt it as my private residence. ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 319 It had been built by the Canton only eight years before as a government house ; and as, by a change in the governmental system, it was now no longer wanted, they offered it to me for half the million of francs it had originally cost. I think we must carry about us some evidence of being citizens of the world ; for, at Spa also, we had been strongly urged to purchase a residence ; and some of the good people of Terre Haute, in Indiana, are fully persuaded that we shall return to end our days in the clearings of the Wabash. At length, after ten days, having obtained our bill from the Donna del Lago, as we called our landlady, we took offence on findmg that she had added a certain number of pennies per day to the charges on which we had before agreed ; and declared that we would set off that very day. She smiled incredulously — deeming it impossible that all the loose things that occupied her rooms could be put into the boxes and the boxes stowed away under a month's time ; but as the energies of Eng- lish will and the capabilities of two English travel- ling carriages quickly developed themselves, she sent for the banker, and asked him to make terms with us. I told him it was too late ; shook hands with him, and gallantly we drove away. Smartly 320 ANTE-KAILROAD TRAVELLING. we drove alongside the beautiful lake, and across the noble bridge that spans it from side to side. Smartly we drove along through the beautiful valley that widens amongst the lower hills. We passed Mendrisio ; we passed Chiasso ; we rattled on a few hundred yards further, and were brought to a standstill by a couple of Austrian sentries and by a score or so of soldiers who lay about the road. I dismounted from my coach-box, and was civilly conducted to the commissiario in a neigh- bouring building. He was a young Italian. He took my family passport, and the two passports of my coachman and butler ; and said that he would send them immediately to the commandante at Como, and that we should probably have the permesso to enter in four hours. " Four hours !" I exclaimed. " Why it is barely two miles distant." " But the guard who carries the passports wUl have to walk there and back." " Let me take him on the rumble of my car- riage." " Impossible to allow my signoria to pass -uT-th- out the permesso first obtained." " Send liim on horseback." " I have no horse." ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 321 " Hire one from the inn at Chiasso : I will pay for it." " I have no power to allow a Ticinese horse to We were fairly stumped ; but were advised to go back the few hundred yards to Chiasso, while the commissario should draw up his report and send the passports. I also gave the messenger a letter for General Singer, in which I explained to him our position, and requested him to send the pass as quickly as possible in conformity with his own pro- clamation. We went back to the inn ; had a bad dinner, and waited four hoiu-s and a half. At eight o'clock, I was told that the messenger had found the office at Como shut, and that we could not have an answer until the next morning. Had we any feeling- of irritation ag-ainst Austria and Austrian rule ? Oh no, of course not ! No one has. We selected the least objectionable beds in the Albergo San Michele, unpacked our English travelling tea apparatus, di'ank tea, and went to bed. I had a horrid dream, in which some wicked spirit seemed to imprecate the expulsion of barbarians from Italy — Exoriare aliquis nostris ex ossibus ultor ! Morning came, and nine o'clock followed ; but it 81 322 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. brought no reply from General Singer ; ten o'clock — eleven o'clock — twelve o'clock came, and still, in the pot house of San Michele, we awaited the con- venience of General Singer. Soon after mid-day, I received a message requesting my presence at the frontier office. I hastened thither. The answer had just arrived, and permission to enter Lom- bardy was refused. The commissario read me the document m which the refusal was couched. It was in Itahan, and purported that we could not enter because my Foreign Office passport had not been vise at the Austrian Legation at Berne, and those of my two foreign servants, although vises by Aus- trian Consuls, were originally granted for the in- terior of France. " But my passport is vise by the Austrian Le- gation in London," I said ; "and I have not been within a hundred miles of Berne." *' So I explained to the Signer Commandante," replied the commissario. " Then the vise of the Austrian Legation in London was a lie ?" " I can say nothing," replied the commissario. " So the Austrian Consuls who took money for viseing the passports of my servants, robbed me, and took it under false pretences ?" ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. 323 " I can say nothing," answered the commissario. *' Is that letter signed by General Singer ?" " I may not say," replied the commissario. " Let me take a copy of it." " I may not," said the commissario. " What is the number of it ?" " I may not tell," replied the poor commissario, hiding it. " At all events, read it to me once more." He did so hurriedly ; as if he knew he should be dismissed were his courtesy known to General Singer. " Has General Singer sent any answer to my letter ?" " None." Polite General Singer ! Without the slightest ill-will towards Austria — ■ no one ever felt any such — without the slightest imputation on the courtesy of her service and the loveableness of her police — to which Italy bore witness — I returned to the Albergo San Michele ; paid a bill, the rascality of which was natural in that neighbourhood ; and, with my wife and daughters and children, entered upon the alter- native left us by the Austrian brute at Como ; namely, a return over the Saint Gothard, in order 324 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. to procure at Berne a valid vise to my passport, in lien of the imposture affixed to it by the Aus- trian Legation in London, and most ostentatiously stamped "gratis.^' " Thank you for nothing," said I. We drew nigh once more to Lugano. Pride would not permit us to return to the Donna del Lago; but there was another excellent hotel in the town, and I pulled up at the Grand Hotel Suisse. I had no objection to spend a few more days amid this beautiful scenery, rather than at once resolve to recross the Alps, or even to go by Magadino and the Lago Maggiore. The spirit of opposition was upon me, and I w^as resolved to brave and conquer General Singer. I enclosed all my pass- ports in a letter to the British Charge d' Affaires at Berne. For once, I found an English minister abroad who was worth his salt. In a few days, he returned my passports again, -uith a pohte letter, intimatingf that he had not been aware that Eno'- lish people were exposed to such inconvenience, and would take steps to protect them from such annoyance in future. I directly sent the passpoits to the frontier, that they might be forwarded to Como before our arrival ; and, on the following morning, rattled ANTE-EAILROAD TRAVELLING. 325 triumphantly through the narrow streets of Lu- gano, and, without stopping at the hateful pot- house of Chiasso, drove straight to the barrier ; and, at a sign from the guard, through it, and up to the very gate of the Austrian frontier house. At the Custom House, I found that somebody had received a reprimand. I was treated with the greatest respect. No baggage whatever was examined. A present of two francs made all right. I directed Paul to drive on with the chariot, and I only waited with the britska until some permit should be made out. An unlucky Custom House guard bethought hun to admu-e the fittings of an English travelling carriage ; and, puttmg his hand on an imperial, asked if it was a cow — a " vache" — a box. " Yes, it is a cow." " Wliat is in it ?" "It contains only my uniform." " Uniform — uniform ! Then there must be arms," he suggested. " None whatever," I replied, supposing that he referred to fire-arms. " Pistols make no part of the dress." " But there must be a sword ?" he insisted. " Only a very small one," I was inclined to say, 326 ANTE-RAILROAD TRAVELLING. as the girl excused herself for having had a bastard child; but I ansAvered, with equal mgenuity, "Yes, an ornamental, gala sword." " A sword !" he exclaimed with horror. " But no sword whatever can be admitted within the Austrian dominions ! I must go and explain this to the chief. Pray excuse. I will be back again in two minutes." Away he sped. "Give me that paper," I cried to another guard who came up with the permit for which I had been waiting. Then, while the first guard was inquiring whether the Austrian rule in Italy could withstand the entrance of my sword, I gave a cut to my horses, and trotted bravely forwards without wait- ing to hear the negative of his chief. I had done General Smger. He was sold. He was a gone coon, as we used to say on the Wabash. CHAPTER XXIII. A MURDER. San Donnino. — An Italian Inn. — The Waggoner. — A Mys- terious Youth. — The Pretore. — The Gensdarmes. — CathoHc Deputy-Lieutenants. — How Austria lost Italy. — Mahomet and the Arab, A FEW days afterwards, I had passed through Milan and Piacenza, and had slept, I know not by what chance, at San Donnino — not a bad baitmg- place, but one I would not have selected for the night. I had pulled up at an hotel, where, as usual in these little towns, more accommodation was provided for waggons and their teams than for gentlemen's equipages. In the court-yard, I ob- served a heavily-loaded waggon, what in Eng- land we should call a broad- wheeled waggon, with four wheels, from which had been unhar- nessed four good horses which the waggoner, a rather elderly and w^eakly man, attended with much care as he dressed and fed them in the stable adjoining that in which my horses stood. 328 A MUHDER. As I went and came, to see my own horses fed, I chanced to Hght more than once upon this waggoner as, in some darkened comer, he was in dee J) converse with a lad, or yoimg man, who looked much startled by my unexpected appear- ance. The elder of the two, however, seemed to reassure him by saying, that I was a stranger (I heard the word forestiere), and should not heed them. He was a fine-looking youth, tall, well- grown, with jet-black hair and eyes, and budding moustaches ; and an expression of intelligence and determination. Two gens-d'armes were also lodging in the inn, and these the young man seemed to avoid with peculiar care ; and as they kept them- selves almost entirely m the tap-room of the house, it was not difficult for him to do so. I sat up late that night, and having occasion to go into the coiu-t-yard before I went to bed, to bathe the shoulder of one of my horses that had been \^aTlng by the collar, I saw, though I scarcely noticed the fact, that the youth I have described, was lying asleep in the swinging hammock or tray which so many waggons and even vetturino- carriages carry slung under the body of the vehicle and just enough raised from the ground to clear large stones or mud. In this swinging tray, A MURDEE. 329 were stowed various light articles and the provision of oats and hay intended for the morrow's con- sumption of the horses. The sleeper was quite covered beneath these ; and I should not have seen him, but that a bright ray of the moon hapj)ened to glance upon his swarthy face, between two bundles of hay. I thought nothing of the matter, and having dressed my horse went to bed. We were to start early the next morning, as I wished to make a long bait at Parma, so as to have time to see its interesting cathedral. The bells on the heads of the cart horses showed that the waggoner was leaving two or three hours earlier than our usual time of departure ; for we always had breakfast before we left our night's quarters. I looked out of my window as I was dressing myself, and I saw the landlord bring out and consign to the waggoner a canvass-bag contain- ing quite half-a-gallon of something that seemed to be heavy. "There!" said the landlord laughing; "don't say I have not given it back to you, or I shall call these two signori gens-d'armes as witnesses. Take as good care of it as I have done this last night." The waggoner thanked him, stowed the bag in a corner amongst the packages behind his own 330 A MURDER. seat, and taking his whip drove out of the yard- door. My horse's shoulder showed still signs of being wrung, and, resolving that we would give him some hours' more rest and not pass that day beyond Parma, I returned to the inn, and we lingered long- over our breakfast. I was standing an hour or two later at the door of the hotel-yard, when I saw the same young man who had secured my attention on the preceding evenmg, rush wildly up the street towards where I stood with the landlord. His cheeks were as pale as death, and his eyes seemed starting out of his head, as he hurriedly inquired of the host which was the way to the Pretore or chief magistrate of the town. " Pray, come with me, Signore," he said. "You can speak the truth in this horrible business." 1 hastened after, rather than with him, and we soon arrived at the town hall, and made our way to the Pretore. " Signore Pretore," exclaimed the youth ; " I am a deserter from the Austrian conscription. I have been hiding, as this foreign gentleman knows ; but it was only to avoid being arrested for the conscription. A most horrible crime has just been committed. You can never learn the truth except A MURDER. 331 from me : the police — the gens-d'armes will never tell you. I will discover it all and will tell who are guilty, if you will give me your word of honour that I shall be freed from the conscription." "Strange!" said the judge pensively. "Is it really a great crime you can tell ?" " None can be greater. Free me from the con- scription and you shall know all." " I agree to your terms," replied the judge. " Then let everyone leave the court except this Monsu," said the youth pointing to me. All retired. " Your Siofnoria will see wherefore I have asked him to stay," began the informer. "You saw me more than once Signore, last evening, talking pri- vately to the poor man who drove that waggon and horses ?" he asked, turning to me. "I did." " You saw me last night lying hid in the tray swung midemeath the waggon ?" he continued. " I did ; but I thought you were asleep." "I wished to breathe as long as I could. I covered myself over better with the hay, so soon as you had passed. I w^as hiding there, Signore Pretore ; the waggoner had agreed to let me hide there, and so to try and escape the conscription. '.VAO. A MURDER. Wlien he drove away his team this morning, I was still lying there ; and was carried out of to^vn without having been discovered. The waggon had proceeded about five miles on the road towards Parma, when it was overtaken by tw^o gens-d'armes who had been at the osteria here the night before. Monsu will have seen them." " I did remark them ;" I said, " ill-looking fellows whom I should know again." "They joined the w^aggoner, and began talking to hun. Suddenly they both seized hun and strapped his arms down to his side w^ith one of then- own belts. The horses had stopped, and they threw the man on the ground, just before the front-wheel of the waggon ; one of the gensdarmes pulled hun back by the legs so as to bring his head just before the wheel ; the other flogged on the horses and it passed directly over his head. I heard the skull crack and saw the brains squeezed out. The two murderers then imstrapped the belt agam, and the one to whom it belonged, re- placed it round his ow^ii waist. I could do nothing ; besides that I was so overcome by terror and sick- ness at seeing that head crushed so close to where I lay, what could I, unarmed and lying there, have done against two armed soldiers ? They A MURDER. • 333 would have killed me before I coald have freed myself from the hay and the different bundles and sacks that covered me up. So I held my breath and lay without moving — only wondering what could be the object for such a murder. " It is in that hole, behind where he sat !" said one of them to the other. " Pull it out and let us hasten away." The one who was spoken to, jumped upon the shafts and pulled out a canvas-bag that seemed to be heavy. They both leaped over the ditch by the side of the road with it ; and went into a little copse through which the high road was made. I had held my breath even when the fellow had jumped upon the shaft, for I knew that, if I were seen, they must kill me to prevent me tellmg; and I now watched them as they withdrew into the copse. As soon as they had gone a few paces and were out of sight, I crept out of my hiding-place on the other side of the waggon ; and keeping it between me and the direction in which the murderers had retired, I hastened into the copse that grew on that side of the road, and then took to my heels and came with all the speed I could make, to denounce the crime to your tribunal." We were horror-stricken, the judge and I ; and 334 A MURDER. neither of us spoke. There was a knock at the door, and an usher entering, announced that two gensdarmes demanded to see the Pretore. He showed the young conscript a door behind his seat, and telhng him to wait there, bade the usher introduce the other two. The same two gensdarmes whom I had seen at the hotel entered, with the same look of effrontery and villany. " Signer Pretore," said one of them, "we have to report a horrible accident by which a poor man has lost his life ; but, fortunately, no one appears to be to blame except himself About five miles from here, on the stradone to Parma, we found the body of a poor w^aggoner lying dead. One of the wheels of his waggon had passed over his head. It was evident that he must have fallen down, perhaps from the shaft on w^hich he was riding ; or perhaps he may have been drunk." The judge made no answer ; but writing a few lines, gave the paj)er to the usher, and ordered him to take it to its address. We all sat or stood in silence for about five minutes. The two mur- derers once cast a furtive glance at one another ; then, as if fearful of being remarked, stood with awkward but motionless consciousness. A corporal, with five or six gensdarmes, entered the court, and advanced towards the judge. A MURDER. 335 " Arrest those two," he said- It was done. " Search them." They were searched ; and in the pockets, in the breasts of the coats, and in the tall jack boots of each of them, five hundred silver crowns were found. They had divided the booty with exact equahty. I have only to add that the magistrate kept his word to the fugitive conscript, and obtained his discharge from the service to which he was liable ; and that the Austrians, choosing to impute to the whole Lombard police the treachery of two of their number, decreed that henceforth Lombard police- men should always be accompanied by German soldiers. In the afternoon, I went on my way ; and slept, as I had planned to do, at Parma ; and thence- forwards was unmolested by any Custom House official whose suspicions could not be laid by a present of two pauls. With my complete uniform, I arrived at Rome ; and at St. Peter's that year, out of nine Cathohc deputy-lieutenants who did homage to the Pope, I was the only one who wore his own sword rather than a hired one. All the others had been deprived of theirs at the Austrian frontier, lest they should employ them against 336 A MURDER. that mild, salutary rule in Italy, which they so much admired, and now so deeply regret and de- plore. Foolish, suicidal Austrians ! Those eight swords, or eight such swords, would have leaped spontaneously from their scabbards to oppose the march of the French and Piedmontese to Solferino and of Garibaldi to Naples ! As Gibbon tells us that, at one time, the fate of the world hung on the lance of an Arab, so the fate of Italy hung upon those eight English Catholic swords, by the confiscation of wliich the Peninsula was lost to Austria ! ! CHAPTER XXIV. SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. Papal Ceremonial. — The Santo Bambino. — New Cardinals. — Pasquinades. — Death of a Roman Prince. — Confirma- tion. — Head of St. Laurence. — French Army of Occupa- tion, and the Romans. Far be it from me to detain the reader from more stirring matter, by descriptions of the rehgions ceremonies of Christmas or Candlemas, to which I alluded in the last chapter, or of any other of the grand Papal galas at E-ome, They have been so often and so fully told, that every one must know aU about them : — must know of the scandalous struggles, nay fights between the croM^ds, who have received ten times the number of admission tickets that the reserved seats will hold, and the Swiss guards, who brutally drive back applicants even before those seats are full ; so that every advance is carried by an assault : — must know of the placid, pious, devotional look and manner of good Pius the Ninth himself, and of the far different conduct 338 SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. of many of his assistants — particularly of the guardia nohile, who chatter and laugh during the most solemn parts of the service. The political atmosphere was clouding over — or clearing up, as each one may please to consider the impending changes ; and I shall prefer to describe the feelings and bearing of the people as these were succes- sively developed. All have heard of the Santo Bambino — -the image of the Infant Saviour, which is kept at the convent of Ara Coeli beside the Capitol, and carried, in a gilt coach, to the bedside of most of the dying Komans who, having faith in its healing presence, often do recover their strength after it has visited them. So great is their veneration for this doll, that, during the short-lived Republic of Rome, Signer Mazzini hoped to conciliate the people by ordering that the state coach, which had belonged to the fugitive Pope, should be dedicated to the service of the Santo Bambino. Knowing all this, my surprise was very great when, on returning one day from the old Forum, I saw large crowds gathered all over the slope that leads up to the Campidoglio, and observed the levity with which they were awaitmg, as I was informed, the bene- diction of the Bambino. The great bell of the SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. 339 capitol — that bell with which so many historic as- sociations are connected — began to toll. It was the festival of the Epiphany, and soon, in com- memoration that the Infant Saviour had, on that day, manifested Himself to the Gentiles, the monks of Ara Coeli brought the holy Bambino to the edge of the terrace in front of their church, and, liftmg it on high, prayed Him whom it represented to bless the people. The people were almost heed- less. Few of them knelt. " The spirit of irreligion is gaining upon them," I observed to my companion. But see. The monks have withdrawn with their image. The great bell of the Capitol toUs again, and seems to toll louder than ever. Other priests come out from the convent chui'ch ; bearing, under a canopy, the consecrated Host. They raise it on high. All fall upon their knees. There is not one of that holiday mob who does not lowly bow his head ; and, while the great bell tolls on, and while the priest lifts the Host on high, there is not one of them who does not show reverence and cross himself in pious recollection. " It is not the spirit of irreligion that is gaining upon them !" I exclaimed to my companion. " They well discriminate ; and I rejoice to see it !" 340 SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. And as these poor people had not necessarily become infidels because they preferred the blessed Host to the figure of the Santo Bambino, so tlie poor Marchese Gentile of Viterbo might, without abandoning the faith, object to the endless clatter of a convent bell over his house. Poor man ! to free himself of a nuisance and by way of frohc, he clomb from the roof of his own house to the steeple of the convent, and quietly detachmg the clapper of the bell, hxmg a Bologna sausage in its place. " You had better go about begirt with briars Than wear a stitch reflecting on the friars" says Lord Byron. And so the Marchese found it. He was made to pay a fine of three hundred scudi for his frolic. Some new cardinals were made about this time, and as the state allows every cardinal a pension of six thousand scudi (about £1000), unless he has private property or church preferment with which to support his rank — the people greeted the nomi- nations with their usual witty malevolence. The spirit of the people was the same that it had been when our own Cardinal Weld, who could not speak Italian, had been created with two others, one of SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. 341 whom had an impediment in his speech, while the other was not considered very wise. " The Pope has made three new cardinals," they said. " One of them does not know how to speak, the second cannot speak ; and the third — had better not speak. Uno non sa parlare : uno non puo parlare ; uno — e meglio che non parli." I do not know whether it was one of these three who was said to have resolved to translate the most popular prayers into Itahan ; and, beginning with the Litany of Loretto, had sat himself down with a Latin dictionary in hand ; but not being able to find anywhere in said Latin dictionary the first prayer Kyrie Eleison, had given up the task as a hopeless one, until better Latin dictionaries should be made. What witty dogs these Romans are ! when a certain new-made princely banker married a beau- tiful girl of the oldest family in Italy, they said that he has put " Una Colouna vecchia sopra nuovo pieclestallo, Che non ha altro pregio che d'esser di metallo" — A modern basement for a column old, Its only value— that it is of gold. Strange that such sayings should be allowed in a country in which the head of the Congregation of the Index says that " all satire is wicked !" 342 SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. Tills, however, is a diversion. Poor old Lord Clifford of Ugbrook died about this time. His coffin was laid on the pavement of the church of S. M. della Minerva, in his quahty of a great noble. All the minor gentry and others ha^^ng gratified their feelings by placing their dead rela- tives duriug the funeral service on catafalcs, or mortuary scaffoldings, raised in the centre of the church, almost to the ceiling, the real grandees of Kome will not enter into competition with such rivals ; and are, therefore, laid on a black velvet pall on the very pavement itself. Is not this a beautiful aping of humility ? I was told that, when a Roman Prince is thus laid dead on the floor of the chiuch, after the funeral service has been performed, his major domo advances from the body of the household servants who are gathered behind ; and, address- ing the corpse, says : — "Your Excellency's valet is here and wishes to know if you have any orders for him ?" After waiting a few moments and receiving no answer, the major domo turns to the valet and says : — " His Excellency does not need your serv^ices. You may therefore go." SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. 343 Then, again, he apostrophises the corpse. "Your Excellency's cook is here, and waits to know if you have any orders for him ?" No answer. " His Excellency has no need of your services ; therefore, cook, you may go." He again advances with solemn reverence : — " Your Excellency's coachman is here, and wishes to know if you have any orders ?" A pause. " His Excellency does not answer ; therefore, he has no need of your services, and so, coachman, you may go." My two boys and my wife's lady's maid, a con- vert, were to receive the sacrament of confirmation ; and it was arranged by Monsignor Talbot, that this should be done privately by Monsignor Mari- nelli, the Pope's sacristan, m his chapel m the Quirinal Palace. All was done most decorously ; and I only mention the circumstance because Monsignor Sacristan afterwards showed us a relic, under the altar, m which I was much interested. It purported to be the head of the martyr St. Laurence. All Protestants even know that St. Laurence was roasted on a gridiron, because he would not renounce the faith ; and that on this 344 SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. deathbed, lie jeered the tp-ant judge by exclaim- ing to liim that he was broiled enough on one side, and should be turned on the other. This scull purporting to be his, was most evidently and strangely marked by fire, which had baked and shrivelled the skin to the hkeness of parchment scorched by heat. It was very curious. So is the stone or marble slab let into the wall in the great church of St. Laurence ; this is pierced with holes and was, evidently, a grating stone through which the water from the street gutter ran into the drain beneath. The legend says that the body of the holy martyr, when taken from the gridiron, was cast on this stone beside which the fire had been lighted ; and the stone is most strangely marked or veined VT.th what we are told is grease and blood ; not encrusted, but incorporated with the marble. Of course, it may not be so ; it is not an article of faith ; but I never saw marble veined at all like this slab ; and I do not believe any other such exists, I remonstrated with Monsignor Sacrista that the head of Saint Laurence ought to be in some pub- lic church, and not shut up from Christians m a private chapel. He smiled, and answered that many people said the same ; but added, " When SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. 345 they ask me to allow it to be removed, I answer that I fomid it here when I was appointed to my post, and that I cannot allow it to be removed without the Pope's consent. And when they apply to the Pope, his Holiness says, You must ask Monsignor Sacrista. It is in his chapel." These little incidents, however, were matters of personal feeling or opinion. The general feeling of the Romans appeared to me to be undergoing a change ; and this could be best noted in the great religious ceremonies — the only opportunities they have of gathering together and of showing tlieu' opinions en masse. On the 3rd of June, there was the grand procession of Corpus Domini round the square of S. Peter's ; and on this occasion, as on every other of general gathering, rumours of con- spiracy, assassination, and tumult were rife in the city. The French Commander-in-Chief, General de Guyon, had four thousand men under arms ; and woidd have placed a battery of cannon before the church, but that the Romans laughed at him, and asked him whether, if his cannoneers fired into the mob, he would guarantee that they should not hit either Pope or Cardinals, who, in case his fears were verified, would be the centre of the tumult raised around them by the revolutionists. 346 SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. We witnessed the procession from a low window under wliicli it passed ; and saw nothing to remark except that the number of strangers collected was infinitely less than usual, and no sign of distiu-b- ance save that which was occasioned when Prince de Yiano, Colonel of the Guardia Nobile, shd gently from his horse because it caracolled a Httle, m a manner that would have delighted his wife, who usually rode it. In every other respect, the ceremony w^ent off quietly and decorously. I had never before been placed so nearly on a level with the Pope as, carried on men's shoulders, he bears the Host aloft in his hands throughout this procession. Of course, he could not really kneel for so long a time on this unsteady platform ; and as it would not be decorous that he should be seen to sit, while carrymg the Host m adoration, his figure is so made up of pillows and stuffing that, to the crowd below, he seems to kneel, while m reahty he sits. This was very evident to us at our window ; and, I must say, made of His Hoh- ness a most unnatural and distorted fiofiu-e. Better far that he should abandon his Oriental throne above men's shoulders on such an occasion, and do real, rather than sham homage to that which he adores ; as he did during a great proces- SHADOWS OP COMING EVENTS. 347 sion on the octave of Corpus CliristI, when he walked behind the blessed Sacrament, in evident accordance with his own devotional feelings. On this occasion also, the city was threatened with revolutionary tumult ; and General de Guy on made awful preparation which nothing occurred to justify. In fact, he must have found out that the feeling of the Roman people was boiling over against the continued occupation of the city by French soldiery. They thronged everywhere, and the E/Omans made way for them. On the night of the festival of St. Peter and Paul, (the dome had been illuminated as usual on the precedmg evenmg — I have given a grand description of it in my " Modem Society," and told how, at that very time, the French were taking Rome by assault,) on the evening of this festival, when the famous Gu'andola was exhibited from the Monte Pincio, instead of from Castle St. Angelo, and when other magnificent fireworks were displayed, the crowd in the Piazza del Popolo, was almost entirely com- posed of French soldiers. Certainly, two soldiers were there present for one civilian. This absence of the Romans boded no good to the existing state of things ; nor did the indiffer- 348 SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS. ence, or worse feeling, with which the majority were in the habit of greeting the Sovereign Pontiff, as his carriage passed at other times through the streets. I will not say that hats were not raised ; but scarcely a knee was bent to welcome and re- ceive the benedictions he showered around. They withheld from the temporal sovereign the homage they would have freely granted to the Pope. CHAPTER XXV. COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS Inventory of my Furnitut'e. — English Toadyism. — The English Lady and the Guardia Nobile. — The Same and the French Prelate. — A Letter and the Censorship. — The English Language. — Judgment by a 5;oman Tribunal. — Queen Christina of Spain. — My Passport withheld. — Festas and Sundays. I HAVE said that I Kad rented the first floor of the Palazzo Albani at the Quattro Fontane imtil the 30th of June. The palace itself was the property of Prince Chigi, who had let this floor of it to a Signer Zeloni for a term of years. Now this Signer Zeloni was a collector or speculator in old curiosi- ties, " knicknackery," and rococo gildmg — a taste I presume he had inherited from his father, who was said to have been a respectable tradesman in that line. But old carved rococo gilded furniture, although most splendid to the eye, is seldom safe for daily use, nor so faultless that it will bear the inspection of one who should verify the mventory at the end of a seven months' lease, and impute to his tenant the breakage of every scroll, leaf, finger 350 COUNTS, QUEENS, PEINCES AND CARDINALS. or nose that may have been missmg for the last two hundred years. I strongly urged, therefore, that the inventory of the furniture should be de- livered to me when I took possession of the apart- ment. For a long time, I urged this in vain. At length, on one Sunday morning, Signor Zeloni's house- keeper (he lived on the floor above) presented her- self with a person bearing a roU of paper, and an inkstand ; and informing us that Mrriting was not a servile work, and was not, therefore, forbidden on a Sunday, seated himself at a table ; spread out his paper, and opened his inkhorn. The house- keeper walked about the room and dictated. "Write down," she said, for example, "One large mirror over the stove in a rich rococo gilt frame." " But the mirror is cracked," I observed. " Scusare," said the clerk ; "I can only write what the signora dictates." o " Write down," she continued, without heedmg my remonstrance, " One large pianoforte, a coda, the whole case carved and gilded, and resting upon gilt figures of mermaids, tritons and cupids blowing through shells."* * See note at end of the Chapter. COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. 351 " But that mermaid nearest the wall has lost her left foot ; that cnpid has no fingers to his right hand, and that triton is without a nose." " Scusare," said the clerk ; " I can only write down what the signora dictates." I would not mterfere any more. This Signer Conte Alessandro Zeloni, as he called himself, on his strength of being a count, which was doubtful, and of bemg a Koman, which was certain, had been received with open arms mto the society of many English at Rome, proud of being acquainted with a count, and, still more so, perhaps, with a native of whatsoever class or character. The delight of Tom Moore's "Biddy Fudge" at writing — "only thmk, a letter from France — with French pens and French mk " — is far from an exaggerated representation of the de- light of OUT country people if they can only entice within their doors a few thii^d or fourth class Italians. That they are Italians, is sufficient recommendation, sufficient introduction. That Italians should condescend to visit English gen- tlemen and ladies, is an honour on which our dear silly countrywomen pride themselves to one an- other ; and remember, with regret, when they get back to the society of their own equals in England. 352 COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CAEDINALS. Out of many instances of this fatuity which I have witnessed, I will recount one for the amusement and caution of my fair readers. We visited, at Rome, an English widow with her daughter, who were passing the winter there. They Avere people whom we had known in Eng- land — real English gentry — neither more nor less, and, therefore, the social equals of any foreign gentry, whether with or without titles. I tmce met at their house during morning visits, a good- looking young man whom my more accustomed eye discovered to be wanting in the^e ne sais quoi that marks a foreign gentleman. At length, one morning, my wife brought me a note she had just received. " Our friend, Mrs. ," she said, " asks me to permit her to bring to our dance to-morrow Signer , whom we have met at her house, and who, she says, is a guardia nobile of the Pope. I sup- pose I had better send him an invitation." " Not so fast," I replied ; " if he is an Itahan, he is not in Italian society, and we never introduce natives of the same town to one another. But the name he gives is not Itahan, and I do not see how he can be a guardia nohile." I instituted inquiries ; and my wife was obliged COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. 353 to wiite to our friend and decline to receive her favourite, on the ground that he was not a guardia nohile, that he was not in Roman society, and that his father or uncle kept a bookseller's shop in Rome. Our dear English woman thought, of course, that we must be mistaken ; that we envied her the acquaintance of foreigners ; and she soon sent us a long letter, pm^orting to be written by a French Prelate, who guaranteed the position of the young man ; although he admitted that he had made a mistake in saying that he was a guardia nobile, whereas he had only applied for a commission and had been put off with civil phrases. The Reverend Frenchman then added a page or two of abuse of me, and of laudation of himself. . My unfortunate familiarity with continental habits of thought and expression, convinced me that here, also, there was something wrong ; and I sent the letter to the authorities at St. Louis des Francais, by one who should ascertain who the writer was. I learned from these head-quarters of French Catholicism in Rome, that the writer had never brought any evidence of being a Prelate ; that, consequently, the authorities had refused to receive him or to present him to the French Ambassador ; that he .'^54 COUXTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. was thought to be a paid spy of the King of Naples and of others ; and, from his habits of in- trigue and misrepresentation, was considered a most dangerous man. I was sorry, by sending this information to our dear countrywoman, to deprive her of another foreign hanger-on, and to be obhged to add that, m order to test the real position of the so-called guardia nobile, I had de- sired a friend to go and buy a book at the shop in which the youth was said to be interested; the which book had, in fact, been sought out and handed to him by that young guardsman him- self Our fair compatriote never forgave me ; and I do not think that she even dropped the acquaint- ance of either of her two foreign friends. However, to return to Count Alessandro Zeloni. He had worked his way into several English houses ; and was everywhere so misrepresenting my conduct, that I was told I ought to refute his statements. I, therefore, wrote a letter of which I wished to have a few copies Hthographed, that I might send them to friends. I now only refer to the letter in order to introduce what the Roman censorship said of it. I wrote as follows : — " To COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. 355 Signor Count Zeloni. Sir, — You understand Eng- lish ; I write in English, in order that Enghsh people, to whom I shall submit this statement, may most clearly understand it. You charge me with refusing to sign jowr inventory of furniture which you sent to me when I had been three weeks in the house. For my own protection, I gave it to a sworn Roman appraiser to verify, and he finds that it misrepresents almost every article ; and that it states the most tattered and worn, and glued and mended rubbish, to be perfect and in a good state. " You charge me with refusing to pay your rent: according to our contract that rent was to be paid monthly, but not until you had supplied all that you promised. This has not been done ; your own lawyer called upon me and admitted that I had done nothing but was most fair and reasonable. The stable in the court-yard, on the faith of having which I took yo^^r appartment, as appears by the contract itself, has not yet been given to me. " Being told that, to all who will listen, you ac- cuse me of refusing to sign your inventory or pay your rent, I write this to show why I have done so. I have documentary evidence to support all I have stated." 3.50 COUNTS, QUEENS, PEINCES AND CARDINALS. I took the original of this letter to a lithographer and desired him to copy it. The poor man was terror-stricken at the idea of printing anything without the permission of the censorship ; and so I submitted the MS. to that learned tribunal. It was returned to me in a few days endorsed as follows : — " Senza una genuina e sincera versione nella lingua Italiana, la Censura Eccl'ca non puo ammettere questo scritto. — Without a genuine and sincere version in the Italian language, the Eccle- siastical censorship cannot allow this writing." And if I send " a genume and sincere version," you will then require evidence that it is so ! A shrug of the shoulders admitted the truth of my supposition. It seemed to me curious that an ecclesiastical jurisdiction, co-extensive with the habitable and uninhabitable globe, should not be provided with any one who could read a page of manuscrijDt in the language that is more extensively spoken than any other on the face of that same habitable globe. For, let it be remembered that, as England is not only an European but an universal power, so the English language is not only that of a part of this little Europe, but of the inhabitants of the most distant and most widely extended portion of the COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. 357 earth : and these pages will be read by the people of distant lands and communities of whose very existence the Tyberine censors had never heard. I did not apply again ; but took courage and wrote a few copies for friends and left Zeloni to do his worst. Poor little fellow ! It was not much he could do. He went to law ; and the following decree was what he got for his pams : — " Civil Tribunal of Rome. "On the urgent demand of Count Alessandro Zeloni, that the noble gentleman K. Digby Beste should be compelled to sign an mventory of furni- ture and objects entrusted to hun and which, for four months he has refused to sign, and which Zeloni says he may not deliver up correctly now that he Ls preparing to leave Rome, unless he be made to sign said inventory, the Tribunal decrees as follows : — " It absolves and releases the defendant from the improper demand, and condemns the applicant Zeloni to pay aU the expenses." He appealed against this decision and his appeal was again dismissed with costs : every trial being conducted secretly and by written deposition, so that it became proportionally expensive. When 358 COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. my time came for leaving the apartment, he re- fused to verify the inventory or to receive the keys ; and my lawyer was directed by the court to deliver them to its own offices, who would take charge of them until the troublesome fellow came to his senses. I never heard more of him or his affairs. For, before my lease was expu^ed, the Dowager Queen Christina of Spain, who had been " spung- ing" for a long while on the Spanish Legation, in which she had established herself on her first arrival m Rome, purchased the whole Palazzo Albani ; and, one morning, sent me a polite re- quest that I would permit her to call on us and go over our apartment. She came that afternoon — a large, coarse, impudent-looking woman, with a big, handsome, middle-aged man — the Duke of Rianzares, her husband. However, she was veiy gracious ; walked over the whole suite of rooms, and planned their future destmation. I told her that the kitchen was on a floor above, according to the usual Italian system, and she desired her husband to go and look at it. He was recalcitrant ; and her Majesty insisted with a royal and matrimonial frown, till he complied with a bad grace. Mean- while she seated herself, and drawing my wife and COUNTS, QUEENS, i'KlNOES AND CAIIDINALS. 359 a daughter one on each side of her, urged us to come to her weekly receptions in the Palazzo di Spagna. While thus engaged, a message came from Zeloni to mform the Queen that his own lease of the apartment had three years more to run ; and Her Majesty repHed, that he must settle any question about his lease with the owner of the palace. Some question there was between them, and Zeloni did not leave without a " con-si-de-ra-tion." It was difficult for him to find an apartment large enough to receive all his rococo valuables, or a landlord who would accept him as a tenant. A few months later, I was thinking of taking the first floor of the Palazzo Pamphilj Doria, in the Piazza Navona, belonging to Prince Doria, and when I said to the agent that I would consider of the matter and give an answer on the following day, I Avas earnestly besought to engage it at once, ''Why so?" " Because Her Majesty Queen Christina insists upon having Zeloni's apartment in the Palazzo Albani delivered up to her without delay. And Cardinal Antonelli has besought Prince Doria to let Zeloni have this one, so as to set the other free ; but the Cardinal will not guarantee the rent, and 360 COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. the Prince does not like to let it without a guaran- tee, and yet cannot refuse the Cardinal. But if you will engage it at once, we can send to express our regret to his Eminence that it was already dis- posed of" Thus do Princes, Queens, and Cardinal Secre- taries of State do business at Rome ! In the spring of this year, 1858, I wished to return to England as quickly as possible ; but was informed at the pohce office, that Zeloni had there given notice that my passport should not be de- livered to me because I had refused to sign his inventory, and was escaping from the country. The police admitted that it was not very probable that I should be running away to escape my lodging-house debts, while I left behind my five children, horses, carriages, and servants ; but, accordmg to the laws of the " Eternal City," no passport could be delivered until twenty-four hours after the reception of such a notice : that time was allowed to the plaintiff to substantiate his statement if he could. Next day, the passport was given ; and my \^Tfe and I started for Civita Vecchia with post horses. But, by this delay, we had missed the direct steamer to Marseilles ; and, although it was a COUNTS, QUEENS, PRINCES AND CARDINALS. 361 great pleasure to find our old friends, the Helvetia and Captain Martin, ready to receive us, we knew that we should be delayed three days by having to follow the coast instead of taking the direct line. The 19th March, on which we arrived at Leghorn before sunrise, proved also to be the festival of St. Joseph ; and no merchandise could be shipped or unshipped on a holiday. The whole of that day, therefore, the steamer and crew lay idle in port. In England, the Catholic Church does not require abstinence from work on St. Joseph's day. In Piedmont, as in France, this and all other minor festivals are kept on the Sunday following the day on which they occur. Either political an- tipathies, unworthy of the church, prevent the same rule being extended to all countries, or else the wish of despotic governments to enervate the people and to check that steady, uninterrupted, and persevering industry, which they know to be fatal to themselves, forbids the change which mo- dem habitudes suggest. The consequence is that, at Naples and elsewhere, I have often heard people, at work on Sundays, excuse themselves by saying that there were one, two, or three festas in the week : and that, as they could not afford to be 3G2 COUNTS, QUEENS, PIUNCES AND CARDINALS. idle the whole time, they preferred to keep holy the festas rather than the Sunday. Everybody knows this ; and yet the system is unchanged ; and churchmen and laymen hypocriti- cally deplore the increasing immorality of the age and its disregard of sacred ordinances. I know not how much more I should have written in this stram if I had not remembered that, on the Sunday following, I was at Genoa, in Piedmont, and that the vessel was there unloaded and loaded again without any scruple or any ob- servance of the day. Leghorn idleness on the festa, was preferable to this Genoese desecration of the Sunday. After many delays, we arrived at length in London. I was told that I might sue Zeloni for damages occasioned by the delay that his false charge had created. I quoted the old proverb * Note to page 850. I am sorry to be obliged to record the dilapidated state of a pianoforte which the late French ambassador at Rome, M. de Sartiges, has bought for 2,500 francs. It owed its value to the belief that it had belonged to the dissolute Donna Olimpia. Were it possible to produce the instrument of any woman still more infamous, it would, of course, be deemed proportionately more valuable by these modern antiquaries. CHAPTER XXVI. CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. Tableaux Vivants. — Florence Nightingale and the Nuns. — Catherine of the Wabash. — Rev. Mother at Scutari. — Pious Lies. — Cardinal Wiseman and his Attorney. — Ec- clesiastical Property. — Pio Nono and the Monks. — A Suggestion. — Division of Property. I AM perfectly well aware of the deep offence I shall give, of the indignation I shall draw upon myself, by writing the truth, as I purpose domg in this chapter, about certain convents and eccle- siastical dignitaries. I shall be told that I am giving scandal ; and that it is my duty to conceal the misconduct of professedly-reHgious people ; and that one ought never to speak against the dead. I pray good people to be as cautious in con- demning me — in attributing bad motives to me, as they would have me to be in reference to those whose misconduct they think I ought to conceal. Let them ask themselves which is the most hkely way to prevent the recurrence of any wrong- 364 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. doing ; whether to conceal the iniquity and permit those who have committed it to shelter themselves under a garb of holiness, or to proclaim the evil that has been committed, and so warn others from doing the like ? Is not publicity recognised to be the great preventative of vice in high places ? Why should I be called upon to conceal the mis- conduct of some poor nuns and of Cardinal Wise- man, more than any other writer is expected to deny the pride of Cardinal Wolsey or the infamy of Pope Alexander VII ? Religion may deplore the excesses of such personages, but she does not suifer by them. She deplores that, amongst twelve apostles, there should have been one Judas ; but she has never thought it necessary to the honour of the eleven to conceal her hatred of the traitor. In the case which I am about to recite, there is, however, no imputation of Judas-treachery. The good silly nuns thought it their duty to tell hes rather than the truth. Cardinal Wiseman was moved by zeal for rehgion : he always considered that " Vetat c'est moi" — that he was the repre- sentative, the embodiment of rehgion ; and he always sought to exalt himself m order that he might so exalt that which he represented. If he CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 365 wished to obtain wealth or power, it was that rehgion might be more honoured by the wealth, power, and pomp of its representative. I said in my last chapter that my wife and I had been called suddenly from Rome to England. She had left there an adopted daughter, our Ellen of the Wabash, whom she had educated as her own from its babyhood. On the same day on which my eldest daughter had claimed the ful- filment of a promise that we would no longer oppose her entrance into a convent if she persisted in the wish after she were twenty-one years of age — on the same day on which this Catherine of the Wabash had began her novitiate in the Convent of the Sisters of Charity (or of Mercy, as they are called in England), at Bermondsey, the other had entered a convent of the same order at Blandford Square. The first had been professed, and had gone to the Crimea ; the other was still a novice, but in a different house at Chelsea. I was once at a country house where the young folks got up representations of tableaux vivants. In one of these, they showed forth a semblance of good Miss Nightingale, nursing a wounded soldier in the hospital at Balaclava. " You might improve upon this," I said ; " you 366 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. might, with equal truth, represent the same Miss Nightingale nursing a Sister of Mercy in her own tent. Hang up the dark dress and the white veil of the nun against the canvas of the tent ; and as the Cathohc priest goes out after having ad- ministered the last Sacraments to the supposed-to- be-dymg Sister of Mercy, show Miss Nightingale anxious to discover what it is that disturbs her ; and, at last, pull from under her pillow a large rat and kill it with her own hands." Such a scene had, in truth, occurred between Miss Nightingale and my daughter. The Right. Kev. Dr. Grant, bishop of South- wark, had been sent for one day by Mr. Fox Maule, Minister of War, as they say abroad. He showed a letter from Miss Nightingale, in the Crimea, which asked for more nurses : " but do not send me Irish nims," she wrote ; " they quarrel. Do not send me English Protestant lady nurses, they fall in love with the officers, and the officers with them. Try and send me some Enghsh Cathohc Sisters of Mercy." Dr. Grant went to the Convent of Mercy at Bermondsey : and, havmg called the httle com- munity together, explained what was wanted ; and asked if any of the ladies woidd volunteer. CONVERTS AND KIDXAPPERS. 3(57 The Lady Superior, my daughter, and one other nun offered themselves and went forth with their chaplain on this mission of mercy. The father of Florence Nightingale was a brother-magistrate of mine in Hampshire. It was curious that he, a protestant, and I, a catholic, should each have a daughter in the same Crimean hospital. He used kindly to send me the letters he received from his daughter as often as they contained anything of personal interest, or relating to my child, whom Florence spoke of lovingly. As both she and Miss Nightingale were sacrificing themselves, if not for the general good of humanity, yet, certainly for that of their own country, English men and English women ought to feel interested in such details as the following, which I copy un- altered, and as they were sent to me by Mr. Nightingale : " General Hospital, Balaclava, June 2nd, 1856. Mrs. Beste, Sister Mary Martha, is now with me here in the Crimea ; she has been exceedingly ill with typhus fever. " I love her the most of all the sisters. She is a gentle, anxious, depressed, single-hearted, single- eyed, conscientious girl — a worker, no talker. " I am very fond of her. And she is honest and true. She is very interesting ; almost too patient 368 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. and diffident ; and she has been recovered from death's door. She is trustworthy and noble." " In a former letter from Mrs. Shore Smith at Scutari," continued Mr. Nightingale, "she quotes from w^hat she had heard at Balaclava, ' Sister Mary Martha is laid up with feverish cold here — ■ General Hospital, Balaclava. I am glad that her illness should be here rather than at the L. T. Hospital, as we have greater facilities for nursing her.' " Mrs. Boberts and I, Mrs. Logan and Mrs. Skinner (nurses), sleep in one-half a hut, and the sick Sister m the other half. The three other Sisters in the next hut. We have hardly any time to make any arrangement yet for oui'selves." " Later Mrs. Smith wrote to me how anxious Miss N. had been about Sister M. Martha — that she had been sitting up with her at night and that she hoped she was safely through. " One night, some one had told her that Miss N. had heard a rat troubling the poor invalid and she had gone and, to her own great sm^prise, had been able to kill it. " In one letter Miss N. said, ' the Sisters are well, cheerful, effi.cient, useful. Our crosses have been many and very sad ones, but God prospers CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 369 the work. The weather has been tremendous, — snow on the ground, wmd and bitter cold ; after that, great heat and fear of cholera and fever." Keader, this was the Catherine of "The Wabash." If you have not read that book, get it ; and, as it is out of print, have it reprinted. It can never be out of date, any more than Stern's Sentimental Journey, or Robinson Crusoe. It is due, also, to the Superior, " the Reverend Mother" of my Catherine's convent, that I should transcribe the following extract which Mr. Night- ingale sent me from a letter wiitten to him by his sister, Mrs. Shore Smith, who took Mrs, Brace- bridge's place at Scutari : — " Alas ! I have just been writing to ask the General for a passage for dearest Rev. Mother, on Monday, by the Victoria. I cannot tell you how it upsets one — more than one could have thought, considering that I never spoke a word to her except on business ; but it is the love and confidence one feels in pure goodness and much wisdom enshrined m her gentle quiet form, that makes one feel her such a loss. Oh, what a thing it is to love, and trust, and respect ! how it supports and makes one better ! I have no- body left when she is gone to depend upon as a superior. 370 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. " The Bisliop writes to her, ' Follow the direction of your medical man.' Dr. Cruikshanks says ' Go as soon as possible.' Rev. Mother, who would step into her grave as willingly as others mto their bed, and would not have taken one step to avoid it for her ow^i sake, obeys at once the order of her Bishop. I see Dr. Cruikshanks's is the wise advice. She has now a chronic malady, the disease to which this country is especially prone. If she delays, the vessels will be crowded with returns from hence. If acute fever came on, all would be over. "How blank, how altered the look of that heavy dark-green curtain behmd wliich was their room ! It never looked dull, for one would always find help on the other side of it. It wall be a great sorrow to Florence, who, hearmg she was better, had been hopmg, as she wrote herself, to have the comfort of her presence in the Crimea, where most of the sick are now kept." This report was signed Mary Shore Smith. My Catherme had recovered, and had long since returned to her convent in England. We, in Rome, had received a letter informing us that the Community of the Chelsea Convent had decided that our adopted daughter was not really suited to be a Sister of Mercy in their house ; and requesting CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 371 IIS to say whither she should be removed. My wife immediately sent her own English maid, a steady, confidential person whom she had long known, from Rome to London to fetch her and bring her to lis. In due course of steamer and post, a letter arrived informing us that the silly child refused to come to us abroad. I went for my passport, and at last, as mentioned in the former chapter, I and my wife arrived in town. But, in looking over my notes, I feel so disgusted with the conduct of pious people, that I cannot enter mto details. I would not even allude to this subject, but that I had to appeal to the courts and poHce for protection ; and, m this family record, I must not shrink from that which is known to hundreds and which will be misrepresented if I avoid the subject altogether. Suffice it, then, to say, m as few words as possible, that this adopted daughter had entered the convent in Blandford Square, as a novice : that during three years, those ladies had received her pension, and had been un- able to decide whether she had a vocation or not ; that being pressed to come to a decision, and be- ing assured that she had no property absolutely her own, although we should give the usual hand- some dower as to Catherine, they immediately 372 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. determined that she was not suited to them. She had then msisted upon begmnmg a new jDrobation- ary no^dtiate in the Convent of Mercy at Chelsea, where, also, a community of eight or nine nuns could not judge of her fitness or unfitness until they had drawn her pension for three years — up to the very last day to which her "postulancy" and " novitiate" could be prolonged ; having induced us to leave her with them because the Superior had "no doubt of her final profession." Let me here remind parents and guardians of the danger of allowing young ladies to follow theu- " vocations" — which, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, I beheve to be only obstinate resolves to have their own way : — of the great inconvenience, to say no more, of these novitiates. A young girl may be led on for three or even six years— may be forbidden to take any heed of her personal ap- pearance — may be compelled to crop her hair, and to neglect all those accomplishments which had been taught her as proper to her position in life — and may be then sent back to that world for which these conventual habits have quite un- suited her. Wlien we arrived at the convent at Chelsea, the Superior, showing the whites of her eyes in what CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 873 was intended to be a most impressive manner, told us that our adopted daughter had left the house three liours and a half before ; that, not choosing to let her depart without money, she had given her £10 of the cheque I had sent to pay her jour- ney to Kome with our maid ; that, to avoid the scandal that would have ensued if she had gone forth in the community's dress, she had let her have some of the clothes we had sent for her to travel in ; that she had not the least idea whither she had gone — that some poor woman had called a cab for her ; but she would not say who, or from what stand. I appealed to the priest of the district, and he compelled this reverend lady to o^^al that the ex- novice had left m a cab which the regular char- woman of the convent had called from the nearest stand. I signed to a pohceman, and we soon found the waterman who had heard this char- woman bargain with a cab-driver m the morning to take her and a nun from the convent to Fleet Street, to Lincoln's Inn, and to Hampstead ; and who saw them start — not three hours and a half ago — but only a few minutes before I had arrived. I left directions that, as soon as the cabman appeared, he slioiild harness a fresli horse and come 374 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. for me at my hotel ; and, in tlie mean time, I went to Cardinal Wiseman, in York Place, and ex- plained to His Eminence how these reverend nuns had cared for a young lady who had been confided to them and had lived under then- roof for three years. I knew His Eminence well — had known him for twenty-five years. He expressed the greatest indignation at the conduct of the nuns : ordered his carriage instantly ; and requested me to allow my son Kenelm, who was with us and who was then a member of the Brompton Oratory, to go \vith him and report to us whatever he should learn. In an hoiu^ or two, the latter returned, bringing me, in the Cardinal's own handwriting, the address of those to whom the fugitive had gone : " Messrs. Harting, 24, Lincoln's Inn, and Church Row, Hampstead." I recognised the names of attorneys who had often appeared for his Eminence in different courts of law. But how could Ellen have got acquainted with any lawyers ? And, still more strange — how should she have chanced upon the Cardinal's own lawyers, unless some one had instigated the whole proceeding, and thought thus to secm^e the con- nivance of His Eminence ? CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 375 On our return to our hotel in Albemarle Street, after a useless drive to Hampstead, for the offices in Lincoln's Inn had been long closed — I found the cabman of the convent. He told me that he had taken up two ladies at the convent ; that he had driven them to Hoare's bank — whence I found, they had taken not only £10, but the whole amount for which I had drawn the cheque ; to 54, Lincoln's Inn ; to Spanish Place ; back to Lincoln's Inn ; back to Spanish Place ; to 51, Baker Street, York Place ; back to the convent : whence he had dropped one of his fare, and had taken up instead a heavy box, which he had carried with the other lady, and left at 51, Baker Street. This was sufficient. We immediately drove to this last address. The mistress of that house at once owned that the young lady had been recommended to her that morning by the Pev. Mr. Bond, of Spanish Place — let the honour of kidnapping be given where honour is due, — and that she had en- gaged her apartment by the week. I interrupted, saying that I was in search of her, assisted by Cardmal Wiseman ; and, in proof of my assertion, I showed her Messrs. Harting's address. " Sure enough that is the Cardinal's hand- 376 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS, writing," said the woman. " I know it, because he always sends his niece and other friends to lodge here. But there must be a lie somewhere ; because, about an hour and a half ago, while we were at dinner, a woman came in a cab and brought a letter from the Cardinal, which ordered me to deliver up my lodger. The young lady would not even stay to finish her dinner ; but went off immediately with that woman and took her box. I must pray you to cross over with me to York Place, that we may inquire the meaning of all this." We did so. His Eminence was at dinner ; but, in answer to an inquiry which I wrote on a slip of paper and sent in to him, he sent me out a note which admitted that he had himself removed her, and that she was in a place of safety. As she was thus declared to be under the Car- dmal's immediate protection, we could have no further present anxiety, and got back to our dinner at nine o'clock. On the following morning, I saw Mr. Harting, and learned from him that Ellen had been im- pressed by some one with the idea that she was entitled to a large sum of money and to the accumulated interest of years. Here, then, was CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 377 the explanation of her flight and of the change of conduct in the Cardinal ! She had been persuaded that we were over-reaching and robbing her. He had declared himself indignant that the nuns should have misled us, until he had referred to the Hartings, and had heard of this money. The very thought of the money had aroused his sym- pathies, and had urged him to thrust himself into a matter with which he could have no concern ; to remove her from a house where he knew that I should easily find her by means of the pohce and cabman ; and to constitute himself her guardian, protector, and kidnapper-in-chief! For Harting, who was soon convinced by our own lawyers, Messrs. Field, of Bedford Row, that they had been engaged for years, at our expense, in an en- deavour to recover for the young lady some of the money alluded to, and that there was not the slightest chance that she or anyone else would ever obtain a farthing under the document with which some one had aroused her susceptibilities — Harting declared that he really did not know where she was, and referred us to the Cardinal : and the Cardinal ao-am wrote that he would communicate her address to Harting. The Messrs. Harting, for there were two of them, did no more 378 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. than their duty to the Cardmal. I believe they really were ignorant of the address, and en- deavoured to obtain it, and to get theu" prin- cipal out of a scrape. But he was obstinate, and our researches were foiled for four or five days more, without any certainty that our adopted daughter had been even told that we were in London inquiring for her ; although we had the perfect conviction that, even if she did know of our being there and of our willingness to receive her with the affection that had always existed amongst us, her character and natural disposition was such, that she would never forgive herself the injurious imputations which these nuns and priests had instilled against her second mother and only protectors. At length, I went to different poHce offices and employed detectives ; and prepared an affidavit with which we appealed to the Lord Chancellor for a Habeas Corpus against the Car- dinal. All this was a scandal. These officials delighted to expose what they called" the system :" religion suffered, as visual, from the misdeeds of its ministers. The Lord Chancellor Chelmsford ex- pressed great sympathy for my wife ; and declared it to be a most painful case ; but he did not think there was evidence that the Cardinal had exercised CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 379 such physical restramt over her adopted daughter as would enable him to interfere. And so those pious people triumphed. While under their guardianship, false ideas of indepen- dence and unworthy suspicions were first instilled against her only protectors — against those who, under heaven, had made her of the religion those churchmen themselves professed, and had provided for her, as one of their own children, for twenty- four years. Well is the love of money said to be the root of all evil : for no one can suppose these people would have gone out of their own way and mixed themselves up in what, according to their own supposition was a family affair, unless they had expected to go shares m the money to be re- covered ! Need I add that, when they were con- vinced that the booty they had hoped to secure was not in existence, these kidnappers no longer cared to exercise their baneful influence ? They soon left her whom they had deluded ; and that affectionate connection was restored which they had so scandalously endeavoured to sever. As I before said, I would not have given this famt outline of the matter had it not been made so public at the time, that unworthy motives would be impu- ted to me, if I were to shrink from recording it here. 380 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. But we, who returned to Rome, knew that monks and nuns had also baffled poor Pio Nono. He had found it as impossible to rule them as to govern the temporal subjects who were casting off his sway. When he had first come to the Ponti- ficate, he had issued many excellent regulations : he had du'ected, for example, that all members of a religious male community should, in reality, live alike — from a common fund ; that no one should be permitted to accumulate a private hoard out of his savings from those unnecessarily-large allow- ances granted for snuff, for travelling expenses, for preaching and officiating in other churches than their own ; that no one should take the final vows without the sanction of the Bishop of the diocese, or before he was twenty-one years old. The poor Pope only raised an outcry against himself; the monks were too strong for him ; and his regulations became a dead letter. I could have suggested a more simple method of diminishmg the number of monks, if that were, indeed, as it was supposed to be, the object of his Holiness : — an order du-ectinof that the "enclosure ' should be enforced in the case of monks as well as of nuns ; that no monk should, any more than a .nun, pass outside the walls of his convent — such an CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 381 order would, methinks, have at once lessened the number of j)ostulants. But how to enforce it ? In the earlier centuries of Christianity, monas- teries and convents were most useful retreats from the paganism, the brutality, the wars of the outer world. In the earher ages of modern Europe, the monasteries alone preserved civilisation, agricul- ture, literature, from barbarian destruction. In later feudal ages, they were discovered to be use- ful for a far different purpose : they facilitated the accumulation of wealth and power in families, by drawing off all who might claim a subdivision of either. To insure that none who had thus re- nounced their rights or natural claims should ever attempt to assert them, the civil law was made to declare that those who had once taken the monas- tic vows were civilly dead — incapable of mheriting property or titles. The civil power was thus made to recognise the family compact — to force back to their cells all who might attempt to leave them. When monasteries and convents were turned to such uses, a subdivision a,nd modification of re- ligious establishments totally at variance with the spirit of their founders, became imperatively neces- sary. The educated members of noble families. 382 CON^^ENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. who thus withdrew from the world for the aggran- disement of theii' chieftain, naturally wished to live with people of their own class; and thus houses were established for the exclusive reception of gentlefolks — of monks who had so many quarter- ings in their coats of arms — who would maintain their superiority by never going forth except in carriages or on horseback — of young ladies who were sufficiently well-born to take a vow of poverty in a rich convent. And thus convents became rich ; and the more rich because whatever they accumulated was looked upon as consecrated to holy uses, as church property that could not be sold or taken without sacrilege. With the progress of centuries, nations agreed to disallow the individuahty of man — the right of each one to dispose of his property as he Hsted. Everybody and everything was declared to belong to the State ; it was deemed to be the duty of this latter to regulate everytliing for the good of all. Almost the whole of Europe agreed to this doctrme. In order to prevent the accumulation of wealth in families and the sacrifice of younger children for the aggrandisement of the elder, it was enacted that parents should be compelled to di\ide then- property more or less equally amongst their CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. 383 offspring. Evidently the accumulation of estates subject to religious corporations and always indi- visible and inalienable, was in total contradiction to this new doctrine that had been enforced against secular property. And yet, to compel the subdi- vision or alienation of monastic property at the death of every abbot or representative of the com- munity, would be equal to givmg present oc- cupants the freehold of that m which they had had only a life mterest — w^ould be to enforce an application of such property totally at variance with the intentions of original founders or bene- factors. . . . But, without dilatmg upon any of these problems which must puzzle statesmen and even churchmen, if honest, one fact is patent : the modern Italian legislature has put forth no grand principle, true or false, to justify its war upon religious communities. It has not declared, as did the great French revolu- tionists, that the idleness and celibacy of monks and nuns were obnoxious to the interests of the state and to the duty of citizens ; it has not for- bidden monastic institutions for the future ; it has not even suppressed those now in existence : — it has merely taken their property. It found wealthy communities, existing from time immemorial, and 384 CONVENTS AND KIDNAPPERS. it robbed them. It had need of money ; monks, nuns, and churchmen were rich and could not re- sist ; and it committed upon them as barefaced a robbery as was ever perpetrated by Calabrian brigand, by pickpocket or burglar. It promised a small annuity to those whom it dispossessed — an annuity the payment of wliich is often " deferred," — and it sent them forth, to wear the dress of their several orders if they liked ; to Hve in community elsewhere, if patrons would house them ; to found convents agam, if they could — and the sooner the better, because they would thus accumulate more wealth for the government again to confiscate. Call you this a revolution on principle ? The mad theories of the old French " Montao-ne" o were more honest. We had returned to Rome to meet the more stirrina- events that will be recorded in the next o volume. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. T RICHAr.DS, 37, GREAT QLEEN STREET, W.C. y^ UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. T-r^ Form L9-40m-7,'56(C790s4)444 \\::si L 05 414 442 3 UC SOUTHERN REGIOMAL LIBRARY FACIir AA 000 844 221 2 D 97U Bii6n v.l