TH

SPANISH JOURNAL

1846

'HE following pages are taken from a journal I wrote at the request of my uncle, in the autumn of 1846, when I made a delightful trip to Spain. I had as my companion Mr. George Stewart, who was closely connected with my family and to whom we were all much attached. We made a rapid journey through France, travelling by malle-poste, which went at the rate of ten miles an hour. We paid hurried visits to Rennes, Nantes, and Bordeaux. In Spain we travelled more leisurely. The pleasure of our trip was much enhanced by the possession of Ford's handbook, which had been lately published. It is a perfect guide-book, full of the most varied information. Nothing can be better than his descriptions of the places of interest and their past history, or more accurate than his witty remarks about the men and manners of his time. Most guide-books are only of use to those who travel in the countries. they describe. Ford's book could be read with profit by those who have never visited Spain and never intend to go there.

I suppose that no country in Europe except

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Turkey has changed during the last fifty years so little as Spain. Whatever improvement may have taken place there is mainly due to the construction of railways, and even these are worse managed than elsewhere. A friend of mine told me that he had once travelled there in an omnibus train, which stopped so long at the different stations that he was able to take rather prolonged walks in their neighbourhood in order to botanise, and that the conductor used to beg him not to hurry himself, as they had plenty of time to spare. When we visited Spain there were no railways, nor was there any system of post-horses, so that travellers were obliged to go in the diligences or travel with horses either owned or hired by them. In some respects I prefer this method of travelling to the present one. It brought us in contact with people of all classes, and our proceedings were slightly more adventurous.

Except in a few of the larger towns, the inns were very primitive, and the luxurious hotels which I am told are now to be met with did not exist. The inn at Burgos had no bedroom which contained less than five beds, which guests were expected to sleep in although strangers to each other, and sometimes without any regard to sex. A pretty lady of my acquaintance was in one of these inns much upset when she woke in the middle of the night to see in a bed next to hers a burly Spaniard with a black beard. In the South the inns were clean, and were not much the reverse in the North.

The food was very scanty, and in none of the towns-not even, if I remember rightly, in Madrid -were the streets lighted with gas, which had already been adopted in all the principal towns in the rest of Europe.

I was most favourably impressed by the people, especially the women. I saw nothing of what is called good society, except a glimpse of it in Madrid, but I found all those I came across in our wanderings, to whatever class they belonged, delightful. They were courteous, obliging and natural, and, what surprised me, generally merry.

JOURNAL

We admired the splendid cathedral at Burgo and stately streets and gateways at Valladolid. We went the whole way from that place to Segovia in a tartana, which had the appearance of a bathing-machine and was drawn by one mule. It was the only conveyance we could get in that famous old town, once the Capital of Spain. The diligences were all full, there was no service of post-horses, and voituriers were unknown. We could not even get horses to ride. We admired Segovia, with its Roman aqueduct and its picturesque castle. We slept one evening at La Granja, an uninteresting spot in spite of its historic associations. The next day we reached the Escorial, which every traveller in Spain should visit, as he will not see the like elsewhere. A huge square building of massive granite, three sides without any ornament, the fourth with a portico and

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gigantic statue, a tower at each corner, and the dome of the church on the front side. San Lorenzo, the patron saint, was grilled on a gridiron, which the building represents, the whole interior being partitioned into square courts and a hideous projection representing the handle. Its situation at the foot of a barren mountain is dreary beyond conception, but the view in front of it magnificent. The church is lofty and impressive. In the middle of it was a pall with a crown on it in honour of Charles V., it being the anniversary of his death. Peasants prayed around it, who could not much care for his soul. Under the altar is the burial-place of all the kings and queens of Spain with only two exceptions since Philip II. It is surprising to see the tombs of so many kings with nothing but labels to mark where they lie. In short, the Escorial is a dismal place, which I was glad to see fading from my sight as I sat later in the day on the top of the Madrid diligence, scorched by sun, smothered by dust, and chilled by the icy blasts that came from the Guadarama Mountains.

We reached Madrid at sunset, and found a charming apartment secured for us by my friend Monsieur de Talleyrand, a nephew of his famous namesake. We were served an exquisite little repast and were in raptures with our quarters. But appearances proved deceitful, for George came into my room next morning with a woe-begone countenance, exclaiming, "I have killed thirteen and have not slept a wink!" The waiter, who declared it was impossible, turned pale when he

saw the slaughtered. George consented to make another trial, being confident that he had hunted to death all the tribe.

The next day I called on Sir Henry Bulwer, with whom I was intimate from his having been Chargé d'Affaires at Paris under my father. Sir Henry had considerable ability, and a most engaging manner; his conversation was brilliant, much more so than that of his celebrated brother, Sir E. Lytton Bulwer; but his ways of life were most peculiar. In Paris he sometimes asked people to dine and forgot to order dinner. When in London, two years after we had met in Spain, a party was made up at Hampton Court for the special object of his meeting Miss Wellesley, a daughter of Lord Cowley, whom he subsequently married. He was to join me at his brother's house in order that we might drive down together. He kept me so long waiting that we arrived at our destination two hours late. Great was his distress, but, on seeing the labyrinth, he said, Let us be supposed to have lost ourselves in it." His last diplomatic post was that of Ambassador at Constantinople, where he was said to be too ready to accept favours from the Sultan. On his return to England he was created Lord Dalling. At Madrid his house was uninhabited and all his furniture sold, and he resided with a friend on the opposite side of the street, where I on most days dined with him. He had hired several

use of.

villas in the neighbourhood, which he rarely made He begged me, if I wished to ride, to go to his stables and choose whatever horse