February 2, 1831.I send you a proclamation issued this morning. People do not seem inclined to believe it, and think Torrijos had at least two thousand men. If he had, there must have been a vast propagation going on in the bay this winter, and armed revolutionists must have sprung out of the seaweed like so many soldiers of Cadmus. When I was there, I heard much of them from General Don, theTown Major, and Shirreff (the Captain of the Port, who brought us out), and the outside number was computed at six hundred, without arms or money. I believe the people would have no objection here to a change, if it could be accomplished by the act of God, or anyhow without putting them to expense or trouble. They are afraid of everything, I am told—hot water, cold water, shaving, talking, or indeed doing anything. As for their ignorance, it is the result of leaving the mind constantly fallow, and the sharpest Spaniard would get dull, with their 2-o’clock dinners and habits of living. I find them allslowin the movements of mind and body. The climate of this place is most delicious; the rains are over, and the last ten days have been more charming than any July in England, the sun so warm as really to be almost oppressive. Spring is coming on rapidly; the trees are budding, and the vegetation makes gigantic strides. We have not had above ten days’ cold all the winter, and that a degree of cold varying between 36 and 46.I have had many letters from England, and fear that people are very uncomfortable there. The tone and feeling I collect from the mass of letters are far from satisfactory. I believe we are now in the only quiet place. If ever you should see any real cloudsin the horizon, pray give me a timely hint, as I have a wife and three children here, and Gibraltar is a very snug place in stormy weather. I am going to write to Shirreff, and will beg him to let me know the rights of this Spanish business at Gibraltar, and communicate them to you.There is nothing doing; we live a humdrum life, never going out, neither to the theatre, which is really insupportably dull, nor to theAlameda. We dine late, and are much occupied with those damnable heretical inventions—reading and writing, with those incomprehensible ones to Spaniards—drawing and music, for not even the guitar is played. I have made a large collection of drawings of this most picturesque old town; my wife is hard at work with her guitar, and will play you some real Spanish airs when she gets to Madrid.There is no such thing as adrawing master. The natives are interested and surprised at all our proceedings, and verily believe we have all arrived from the moon.
February 2, 1831.
I send you a proclamation issued this morning. People do not seem inclined to believe it, and think Torrijos had at least two thousand men. If he had, there must have been a vast propagation going on in the bay this winter, and armed revolutionists must have sprung out of the seaweed like so many soldiers of Cadmus. When I was there, I heard much of them from General Don, theTown Major, and Shirreff (the Captain of the Port, who brought us out), and the outside number was computed at six hundred, without arms or money. I believe the people would have no objection here to a change, if it could be accomplished by the act of God, or anyhow without putting them to expense or trouble. They are afraid of everything, I am told—hot water, cold water, shaving, talking, or indeed doing anything. As for their ignorance, it is the result of leaving the mind constantly fallow, and the sharpest Spaniard would get dull, with their 2-o’clock dinners and habits of living. I find them allslowin the movements of mind and body. The climate of this place is most delicious; the rains are over, and the last ten days have been more charming than any July in England, the sun so warm as really to be almost oppressive. Spring is coming on rapidly; the trees are budding, and the vegetation makes gigantic strides. We have not had above ten days’ cold all the winter, and that a degree of cold varying between 36 and 46.
I have had many letters from England, and fear that people are very uncomfortable there. The tone and feeling I collect from the mass of letters are far from satisfactory. I believe we are now in the only quiet place. If ever you should see any real cloudsin the horizon, pray give me a timely hint, as I have a wife and three children here, and Gibraltar is a very snug place in stormy weather. I am going to write to Shirreff, and will beg him to let me know the rights of this Spanish business at Gibraltar, and communicate them to you.
There is nothing doing; we live a humdrum life, never going out, neither to the theatre, which is really insupportably dull, nor to theAlameda. We dine late, and are much occupied with those damnable heretical inventions—reading and writing, with those incomprehensible ones to Spaniards—drawing and music, for not even the guitar is played. I have made a large collection of drawings of this most picturesque old town; my wife is hard at work with her guitar, and will play you some real Spanish airs when she gets to Madrid.
There is no such thing as adrawing master. The natives are interested and surprised at all our proceedings, and verily believe we have all arrived from the moon.
February(undated) 1831.We are here blockaded by the waters, and almost cut off from all communications. The country from the top of the Giralda looks like Venice, and in many of the streets people go about in boats. The state of the poor is very lamentable, and theyare distributing bread, etc. Still, the suburb of Triana has risen, and a troop of soldiers has been obliged to be sent there. However, the rain has ceased, and there is a prospect of better weather. I hear occasionally from England, where things are settling down, but people seem to expect a continental war, in consequence of the Polish revolution. However, you are much more in the light than I can possibly be. Is it true that Sir Frˢ. Burdett is dead? I hope not, as he is a great friend of mine and a most agreeable and perfect gentleman, tho’nota Tory,con licencia de usted[begging your Honour’s pardon]. People seem to think Parliament will be dissolved after all.This is a sad, dull town for news, as I see nobody, and nobody sees anybody. I have got into a mess by asking some of theGrandeesto dinner, and giving them a Spanish dinner and using someSpanishplates. God knows I have neither plates nor plate. They have thought what I meant as a compliment was meant to turn them into ridicule. However, I have gravely explained the matter, and stand right again,rectus in curia, having afforded conversation to this excellent and industrious Capital for some few days.Certainly to us who have seen England, France, Germany, and Italy, thisisa curious country, andthe people are not attainted by the march of intellect. However, I am much inclined to like them better than the French, the Germans, or the Italians.My wife isprettywell; she did not expect such a tremendous visitation of rain and damp as we have undergone. As soon as she is delivered of her precious burden, she will set out for Madrid, and hopes to find your Excellency there. In spite of all our Whig friends, I am a rank Tory in hoping to see you at your post, and am not quite sure that some of the Tory principles I imbibed in very early youth do not remain, in spite of Brooks’s, and the dangerous company I have kept since marriage. I am not sure if I should not prefer the Canning System to all others; you will despise that as a half-measure. However, here I have no politics, nor care much to have any anywhere.
February(undated) 1831.
We are here blockaded by the waters, and almost cut off from all communications. The country from the top of the Giralda looks like Venice, and in many of the streets people go about in boats. The state of the poor is very lamentable, and theyare distributing bread, etc. Still, the suburb of Triana has risen, and a troop of soldiers has been obliged to be sent there. However, the rain has ceased, and there is a prospect of better weather. I hear occasionally from England, where things are settling down, but people seem to expect a continental war, in consequence of the Polish revolution. However, you are much more in the light than I can possibly be. Is it true that Sir Frˢ. Burdett is dead? I hope not, as he is a great friend of mine and a most agreeable and perfect gentleman, tho’nota Tory,con licencia de usted[begging your Honour’s pardon]. People seem to think Parliament will be dissolved after all.
This is a sad, dull town for news, as I see nobody, and nobody sees anybody. I have got into a mess by asking some of theGrandeesto dinner, and giving them a Spanish dinner and using someSpanishplates. God knows I have neither plates nor plate. They have thought what I meant as a compliment was meant to turn them into ridicule. However, I have gravely explained the matter, and stand right again,rectus in curia, having afforded conversation to this excellent and industrious Capital for some few days.
Certainly to us who have seen England, France, Germany, and Italy, thisisa curious country, andthe people are not attainted by the march of intellect. However, I am much inclined to like them better than the French, the Germans, or the Italians.
My wife isprettywell; she did not expect such a tremendous visitation of rain and damp as we have undergone. As soon as she is delivered of her precious burden, she will set out for Madrid, and hopes to find your Excellency there. In spite of all our Whig friends, I am a rank Tory in hoping to see you at your post, and am not quite sure that some of the Tory principles I imbibed in very early youth do not remain, in spite of Brooks’s, and the dangerous company I have kept since marriage. I am not sure if I should not prefer the Canning System to all others; you will despise that as a half-measure. However, here I have no politics, nor care much to have any anywhere.
March 25, 1831.At length I am able to announce the safe confinement of my wife, who on the 22nd presented me with another boy to consume my substance in these hard times. My wife had an excellent time, and everything was managed in the Spanish fashion, much to her satisfaction. She is doing quite well. Owing to her confinement having taken place somuch later than we expected, I am afraid she must give up all thoughts of coming to Madrid, as the journey is too long for one so newly confined. I think of coming myself after the raree show of the Holy Week here is over, so very likely may set out in thediligenceabout the 7th or 8th of April.We are all very quiet here. The Captain-General is come back, so I conclude all the row near Gibraltar is put down. Indeed, the thing seems to be rather ridiculous. We have a flaming account of thebizarriaand wonderful gallantry of the troops—how they stood firm under a most tremendous fire, the result of which was one man killed, two wounded, one horse ditto, and two men with contusion. They were in a sad stew the night the news of the assassination of the Cadiz Governor arrived; but since that all has been most tranquil, and now Quesada is come back, the Liberals will be in such a fright as will even surprise a Spaniard.Many thanks for the Galignanis. The debates are most interesting. It is a sweeping measure, and if the Ministry go out on it, the country will go with them. Those who succeed will not be on a bed of roses. I hardly think they can carry it, with the present state of the House.I am in hopes, now Quesada is come back, that they will let the processions go on as usual. Therewas some talk that this year they would not; it would be a hard case not to see the whole game played.I have just seen a friend of mine, Captain Bigge, who was very ill-used at Cadiz, and threatened with arrest unless he left the town. Quesada, the Captain-General here, is very civil to him. The people in Madrid must be crazy to offend such a man as Quesada, whose presence and nameonlyput down the affair at Cadiz. Here they say that they have refused him the pardon he asked for for some of the revolutionists. He is so annoyed that they expect he will resign; if so, the Lord have mercy upon the ruling powers. As long as he is here all will go right. They are arresting and shooting away in Cadiz, and they say an order is arrived for all those settled there since 1822 to leave the place in forty-eight hours; they will all join José Maria or turn Liberals. Some low rumours are afloat that Cadiz will no longer be a free port.Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat. The only man to conciliate and consult is Quesada, as far as this part of the world goes, as he is a fair straightforward man of common sense, and equally respected by all parties, and his name alone is a host in a country where everybody is afraid of everything and everybody.Many thanks for your hospitable offer. I shallcertainly come alone to Madrid, and may Providence protect your Excellency from the reductions of the Whigs for many a year! Depend upon it, the general feeling in Andalusia is against these cold-blooded military executions, and no one more so than Quesada, who is themagnus Apollohere, and the only person of whom the Spanish Government might saysic me servavit. The processions of the Holy Week are all stopped,—much to my sorrow, as I am told they were most curious, delightful relics of superstition, which I am very fond of, very picturesque and barbarous.
March 25, 1831.
At length I am able to announce the safe confinement of my wife, who on the 22nd presented me with another boy to consume my substance in these hard times. My wife had an excellent time, and everything was managed in the Spanish fashion, much to her satisfaction. She is doing quite well. Owing to her confinement having taken place somuch later than we expected, I am afraid she must give up all thoughts of coming to Madrid, as the journey is too long for one so newly confined. I think of coming myself after the raree show of the Holy Week here is over, so very likely may set out in thediligenceabout the 7th or 8th of April.
We are all very quiet here. The Captain-General is come back, so I conclude all the row near Gibraltar is put down. Indeed, the thing seems to be rather ridiculous. We have a flaming account of thebizarriaand wonderful gallantry of the troops—how they stood firm under a most tremendous fire, the result of which was one man killed, two wounded, one horse ditto, and two men with contusion. They were in a sad stew the night the news of the assassination of the Cadiz Governor arrived; but since that all has been most tranquil, and now Quesada is come back, the Liberals will be in such a fright as will even surprise a Spaniard.
Many thanks for the Galignanis. The debates are most interesting. It is a sweeping measure, and if the Ministry go out on it, the country will go with them. Those who succeed will not be on a bed of roses. I hardly think they can carry it, with the present state of the House.
I am in hopes, now Quesada is come back, that they will let the processions go on as usual. Therewas some talk that this year they would not; it would be a hard case not to see the whole game played.
I have just seen a friend of mine, Captain Bigge, who was very ill-used at Cadiz, and threatened with arrest unless he left the town. Quesada, the Captain-General here, is very civil to him. The people in Madrid must be crazy to offend such a man as Quesada, whose presence and nameonlyput down the affair at Cadiz. Here they say that they have refused him the pardon he asked for for some of the revolutionists. He is so annoyed that they expect he will resign; if so, the Lord have mercy upon the ruling powers. As long as he is here all will go right. They are arresting and shooting away in Cadiz, and they say an order is arrived for all those settled there since 1822 to leave the place in forty-eight hours; they will all join José Maria or turn Liberals. Some low rumours are afloat that Cadiz will no longer be a free port.Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat. The only man to conciliate and consult is Quesada, as far as this part of the world goes, as he is a fair straightforward man of common sense, and equally respected by all parties, and his name alone is a host in a country where everybody is afraid of everything and everybody.
Many thanks for your hospitable offer. I shallcertainly come alone to Madrid, and may Providence protect your Excellency from the reductions of the Whigs for many a year! Depend upon it, the general feeling in Andalusia is against these cold-blooded military executions, and no one more so than Quesada, who is themagnus Apollohere, and the only person of whom the Spanish Government might saysic me servavit. The processions of the Holy Week are all stopped,—much to my sorrow, as I am told they were most curious, delightful relics of superstition, which I am very fond of, very picturesque and barbarous.
In April 1831 Ford paid his proposed visit to Addington at Madrid. The two following letters announce his intended departure (April 2nd) and his safe return to Seville (May 14th).
Thediligences, though only introduced into Spain in 1821, were admirably managed. Travelling over excellent main roads, drawn by teams of eight, twelve, or sometimes fifteen mules, they were lighter, more roomy, and faster than those in France. As compared with English stage-coaches, a traveller[9]considered them to be more comfortable than our own, and equally regular in their working. Posting was almost unknown, and people who in England would have hired post-horses, travelled by the public coaches. Even royal personages didnot disdain their use. The journey from Seville to Madrid occupied four and a-half days, a few hours every evening being allowed for sleep on the journey. The fares varied with the places, ranging from £9 in theberlinato £5 10s.on the outside.
The living portions of the equipage were picturesque in the extreme. The mules, whose harness was adorned with skeins and tassels of gay-coloured worsted, were shorn smooth, except on the flanks and cruppers, where the hair was allowed to grow in fantastic patterns. The driver wore a sugarloaf-shaped, broad-brimmed hat over a bright silk handkerchief, tied round his head so that the tails hung down behind. He was clothed in a short jacket of brown cloth, embroidered on the back and arms with vases and flowers, and breeches of blue plush, adorned with stripes and filigree buttons, bound at the knees with cords and tassels of silk. His neck was open, with a turn-down collar, and a gaudy tie passed loosely through a ring. His waist was girt with a yellow sash. His legs were encased in stockings and embroidered gaiters, and his feet shod with brown boots of untanned calfskin. Mounting to his perch, gathering the skein of reins in his hand, cracking his whip, calling on each of the mules by her high-sounding name, he set his team in motion,—his helper, a humble imitator of his master in the matter of dress, running by the side of the animals, encouraging, reviling, or pelting them, with unerring aim, from the stones with which he had filled his sash. So thediligencerattled past theTobacco Factory out of the city gate, under the Moorish wall, through an arch of the Roman aqueduct, and on to the great high road to Madrid.
One part of the journey, at least, was full of interest to Ford. He carriedDon Quixotewith him on all his travels, knew the book by heart, and now found himself passing through the barren district of La Mancha. Here was Argamasilla de Alba, the village of Don Quixote, and the site of the prison in which, as tradition wrongly asserted, Cervantes wrote his book. Here, with its neighbouring well, was theVenta de Quesada, scarcely changed in external aspect since it was the scene of the knighting of the “lantern-jawed” Don; here was El Toboso, where Dulcinea lived; here the Sierra, where the knight did penance; here, at the mouth of the gorge of Despeña-perros, was the Venta de Cardenas, which perhaps suggested the name of Cardenio for the “Ragged one of the Sorry Countenance,” and, above the pass, was the spot where he told his tale. Valdepeñas was still littered with the wine-swollen pig-skins, which Don Quixote attacked; the waterless uplands bristled with windmills; and in every village toiled numbers of brown-clad, sandal-shod Sancho Panzas.
April 2 [1831].I venture to take up a moment of your time, to say that I have taken my place in thediligencefor Thursday next, and shall, in due time, God willing, arrive in Madrid onMonday the 11th. I accept with great thankfulness the offer you make ofgiving me a room in your house, and will give you no trouble, I assure you.No doubt you have had a long protest, etc., etc., from Brackenbury[10]on the subject of Captain Bigge’s ill-usage at Cadiz. Now, as Bigge is an old friend of mine, I can tell youen confidencesomething about it. In the first place, he thinks neither of Liberals nor Constitutions, but only where he can get the best cigars. He was dining with me, and talking of his Cadiz adventures, when he let out that he was a friend of Torrijos and Calderon; that his passport was signed the3rd of March, the fatal day; that he had told a girl he was dancing with in Cadiz last Carnival to beware of the Ides of March, and not to venture out on the 3rd. Now, all this being duly reported to the police, in such a moment as this, was enough to make them treat him as a suspected person,—very unjustly, but, still, on these sort of matters Spaniards do not understand howyoungmen talk in England. I just mention all this to put youau courant.We have also here a Captain Cook, a navigator[11](but nottheCaptain Cook). He is a great geologist and stuffer of little birds, a tall, stiff man, with a sort of philosophical hat, that Buckland or Cuvier might wear. Now you know what you have to expect in Madrid.I have had a most civil letter from General O’Lawlor, of Granada (having sent him a letter his master, the great Duke, gave me). He has procured me the refusal of the Alhambra; but it is represented to be in a ruinous condition, and, as my children and English servants have no taste for the Moorish picturesque, but a great notion of the more humble gratification proceeding from a comfortable house and well-appointed kitchen, I am rather inclined to put up with the unromantic reality of some good ready-furnished house.Meantimevive valeque! I hope very shortly to pay my personal respects to your Excellency.
April 2 [1831].
I venture to take up a moment of your time, to say that I have taken my place in thediligencefor Thursday next, and shall, in due time, God willing, arrive in Madrid onMonday the 11th. I accept with great thankfulness the offer you make ofgiving me a room in your house, and will give you no trouble, I assure you.
No doubt you have had a long protest, etc., etc., from Brackenbury[10]on the subject of Captain Bigge’s ill-usage at Cadiz. Now, as Bigge is an old friend of mine, I can tell youen confidencesomething about it. In the first place, he thinks neither of Liberals nor Constitutions, but only where he can get the best cigars. He was dining with me, and talking of his Cadiz adventures, when he let out that he was a friend of Torrijos and Calderon; that his passport was signed the3rd of March, the fatal day; that he had told a girl he was dancing with in Cadiz last Carnival to beware of the Ides of March, and not to venture out on the 3rd. Now, all this being duly reported to the police, in such a moment as this, was enough to make them treat him as a suspected person,—very unjustly, but, still, on these sort of matters Spaniards do not understand howyoungmen talk in England. I just mention all this to put youau courant.
We have also here a Captain Cook, a navigator[11](but nottheCaptain Cook). He is a great geologist and stuffer of little birds, a tall, stiff man, with a sort of philosophical hat, that Buckland or Cuvier might wear. Now you know what you have to expect in Madrid.
I have had a most civil letter from General O’Lawlor, of Granada (having sent him a letter his master, the great Duke, gave me). He has procured me the refusal of the Alhambra; but it is represented to be in a ruinous condition, and, as my children and English servants have no taste for the Moorish picturesque, but a great notion of the more humble gratification proceeding from a comfortable house and well-appointed kitchen, I am rather inclined to put up with the unromantic reality of some good ready-furnished house.
Meantimevive valeque! I hope very shortly to pay my personal respects to your Excellency.
Sevilla,May 14.I arrived safely this morning here after a very prosperous journey, and rather an interesting one, through Talavera, Merida, and Badajoz. Talavera, a very curious oldSpanishtown in a most picturesque state of dirt and decay; Merida, where I remained two days, full of Roman remains, an aqueduct grander than anything I ever saw inItaly; Badajoz, well worth seeing, a magnificent position, and fine old castle, which we have pretty well knocked about. They were all rather in a fuss there (as being the frontier town) as to what was going on in Portugal, and very particular about all strangers coming in and going out. Thence to Sevilla over the Sierra Morena, a glorious, wild, uncultivated, uninhabited country, full of hawks, partridges, and cistus. The hills, being covered with the white flower, looked likeEpinards sucrés. I found my spouse much better than I expected.Messrs. de Custine[12]and de Barbe are, I believe, still here. They have been taking a great many people up here lately for political reasons, but no executions.
Sevilla,May 14.
I arrived safely this morning here after a very prosperous journey, and rather an interesting one, through Talavera, Merida, and Badajoz. Talavera, a very curious oldSpanishtown in a most picturesque state of dirt and decay; Merida, where I remained two days, full of Roman remains, an aqueduct grander than anything I ever saw inItaly; Badajoz, well worth seeing, a magnificent position, and fine old castle, which we have pretty well knocked about. They were all rather in a fuss there (as being the frontier town) as to what was going on in Portugal, and very particular about all strangers coming in and going out. Thence to Sevilla over the Sierra Morena, a glorious, wild, uncultivated, uninhabited country, full of hawks, partridges, and cistus. The hills, being covered with the white flower, looked likeEpinards sucrés. I found my spouse much better than I expected.
Messrs. de Custine[12]and de Barbe are, I believe, still here. They have been taking a great many people up here lately for political reasons, but no executions.
The Alhambra—Addington’s Visit—Tour to Alicante, Valencia, Barcelona, Zaragoza, Madrid—Return to the Alhambra
The Alhambra—Addington’s Visit—Tour to Alicante, Valencia, Barcelona, Zaragoza, Madrid—Return to the Alhambra
WhenFord wrote to Addington in April 1831, he was hesitating between a furnished house at Granada or rooms in the ruined palace of the Alhambra. Poetry conquered prose; comfort gave way to romance. His letter of June 7th, 1831, announces that he had installed himself in the palace.
Granada and the Alhambra are places which seem to rise above the prosaic level of the working world and catch the last gleams of mediæval romance. The very mention of their names conjures up pageants of chivalry and splendid visions of departed glory. Soil and climate increase the fascination and deepen the spell which is cast upon the imagination. The verdure of a northern climate spreads itself beneath the cloudless azure of the south. Olive-yards, orange-groves, and vineyards clothe the hills, gardens embroider the valleys, billows of corn wave in the plains, of that enchantedregion over which hung the celestial Paradise of Mahomet. Here, hemmed in between the mountains and the sea, and narrowed within the space of ten years, till its events assume the distinctness and unity of an epic, was concentrated the final struggle which closed the drama of Moorish domination in Spain. Every spot recalls some scene in the conflict, and the “last sigh of the Moor” still whispers on the heights above Granada. In that Holy War historical truth outrivalled romantic fiction; the manners, customs, creeds of the East and the West contended for supremacy; the splendour of steel-clad chivalry met the roar and crash of artillery; the Middle Ages were locked in the death-grapple with modern civilisation.
The journey from Seville to Granada followed the high road to Madrid as far as Andujar. Leaving thediligenceat that place, the Fords drove from Andujar to Granada by way of Jaen in acoche de colleras. Their carriage was a huge machine belonging to the seventeenth century, carved, gilded, and richly painted, set on wheels which were as extravagantly high behind as they were low in front. It was drawn by four mules, driven by the voice, whip, and stones of the driver (majoral) and his helper (zagal). But the picturesque novelty of the expedition was the guard of sixMiqueliteswho accompanied the carriage. These men, drawn from a regular body which was organised throughout Spain for the protection of travellers, are said to derive their name from Miquel de Prats, a bravo in the train of Cæsar Borgia. Well armed with short guns, swords, and pistols, dressed in a sortof uniform of blue jackets trimmed with red, they were all young men picked for their strength and activity. Many of them had previously been smugglers or bandits, and were held in wholesome dread by their former colleagues.
Thus escorted, the journey was performed without risk, and Ford, with his wife and family, safely lodged in the Alhambra. The palace, whitewashed by the monks and purified from Moslem abominations, or wrecked by Charles V. to supply materials for new palaces, had fallen into neglect and decay. It had been an asylum for debtors, a hospital for invalid soldiers, a prison for galley-slaves. From 1798 onwards it was the official residence of Spanish governors, who made good use of their opportunity for plunder. The dados were broken up to make firewood for cooks and bakers; the tiles were torn up and worked into shop fronts; the leaden pipes which supplied the fountains were sold. A donkey was stabled in the chapel, sheep were folded in the courtyards, poultry penned in the halls. The French invaders converted it into a barrack, a powder magazine, a store for plundered goods, and, when they evacuated it, blew up eight of the Moorish towers. The work of gutting the place was continued by the Spaniards, who tore down doors, wrenched off locks, and carried off panes of glass. When Ford was there galley-slaves were at work converting, to the chink of their chains, a part of the building into a storehouse for salt fish. The first real attempt to restore the Alhambra was made by a peasant woman, Francisca de Molina, the “Tia Antonia” of Washington Irving.
BILL PAYABLE TO THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AGAINST MONEY RECEIVED BY RICHARD FORD FROM THE DUKE’S SPANISH ESTATES.[To face p. 36.
BILL PAYABLE TO THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AGAINST MONEY RECEIVED BY RICHARD FORD FROM THE DUKE’S SPANISH ESTATES.[To face p. 36.
BILL PAYABLE TO THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AGAINST MONEY RECEIVED BY RICHARD FORD FROM THE DUKE’S SPANISH ESTATES.
[To face p. 36.
She worked with her own hands to repair the ravages of her predecessors, cleared away rubbish, set the famous lions on their legs in the courtyard, and reigned, with her two chattering mercenary nieces, the crabbed Queen and lioniser of the Alhambra. In the rooms which she had occupied Ford was lodged.
From the Alhambra, more beautiful, probably, in its ruin than in its restoration, most of the letters contained in this chapter were written. Here Ford entertained Addington, and to the Alhambra he returned in November, 1831, from the tour which he describes.
Ten miles from Granada is the Sota de Roma, or Wood of the Pomegranate, an estate of 4000 acres, conferred by the Cortes on the Duke of Wellington in gratitude for his victory at Salamanca. Owing to difficulties of exchange, Ford had arranged that the Duke should receive his income in England, while he drew an equivalent sum from the Duke’s Spanish estates. The agent was General O’Lawlor, an Irish gentleman in the Spanish military service. Don José, as Ford calls him, had married a wealthy heiress from Malaga, the “Dionysia” of the letters, and had made profitable investments of her money in the lead mines of Berja. Ford found the society of the O’Lawlors pleasant, as also were the green-gages in the garden attached to the old rambling house which was the agent’s residence.
His letters show little trace of the disturbed condition of the country. Yet all round him were signs of the reign of terror produced by panic of rebellion. One execution struck him, in all itscircumstances, as peculiarly brutal. By express orders from Madrid, a young woman of good birth, Mariana de Pineda,[13]was, in May 1831, garrotted at Granada. Pardon was offered her if she would reveal the names of her accomplices. She refused, and died by the hand of the public executioner. Her alleged crime was the possession of a partially embroidered flag of green silk, the Constitutionalist colours. Whether she was guilty or not seems to be doubtful. It was at least alleged that the flag had been placed in her house by a Governmentemployé, Ramon Pedroza, whose suit she had rejected. A column near the Triunfo now marks the site of her sacrifice to a longing for liberty.
Alhambra,June 7 [1831].Dear Addington,I am almost tempted to go down a crumbling staircase, which leads from my kitchen into theSala de los Embajadores, to indite my epistle from alocal conveniente a sa Ecc. I am busy up here with a troop of painters and carpenters putting the part of the Alhambra given up to the Alcaide, and by him to me, into order: no small task, I can assure you, for, what with time, the French, and the barbarous Spaniards, all this enchanted spot is going the way of everything in Spain. To attempt any account of it would be impossible, either by pen or pencil. No previous idea can come up tothe exquisite beauty of the Alhambra. Here we are, with the most delicious breezes from the snowy mountain above us, perfumed by a thousand groves and gardens of vine, orange, and pomegranate, carolled by nightingales, who daily and nightly sing in the dark grove to the tune of “Ally Croker,”[14]all by the side of gushing streams and never-failing fountains. Here summer cometh not—notin the way that it appearsnot to comein Castille; but, while all below in the town andVegaare roasting, broiling, and baking, we neither know it nor feel it.The journey here was very prosperous.Esposa y sa servidorstarted alone in thediligenceto Cordova. The heat without intense, inside (six inside) infernal. Ecija, another hell, and well deserves to be calledLa sartenilla[the frying-pan]de Andalucia. We remained at Cordova three days; in the ancientmezquitaa wood of pillars, some eight hundred odd, to say nothing of the holy chapel of the Moslems,La Ceca, which is finer and better preserved than anything even here, owing to thepurification of Sn. Fernando’smonks, which was simply daubing over with plaster of Paris all the painted arabesque and delicate damascene work of the Moor. A few years ago all this impurificationwas removed, and the worshippers of Mahomet and the fine arts made happy. Thence to Andujar perdiligence. Thence in acochewith nineMiquelitesto Granada, by Jaen. The road to Jaen through ploughed fields, uninhabited except by the gang of theBotiga, the José Maria of Jaen; but we neither saw nor heard of him, and duly arrived, well shaken, at the worst inn in Spain. Jaen very striking and picturesque. I was much bored by thecommandante, one Downie, who has forgotten English, but came to pay me a visit.Thence to Granada, through the mountains, the most beautiful road (quoadroad) possible, a thing to delight Macadam. The scenery to delight any son of Adam with or without a Mac, full of torrents, rivers, rocks, precipices, goats, vines, figs, lights and shades, etc., but wanting in good accommodation for man or beast. So we went direct the seventeen leagues, seventeen mortal mountain leagues, at a pull, twenty-three hoursen coche; think of that, Master Brook![15]TheMiquelites, being well supplied with strong cigars of the worst Royal fabrication, ran and sang the whole way.Arrived here at a most excellent inn, the best I have seen in Spain, and forgot all our woes at
Alhambra,June 7 [1831].
Dear Addington,
I am almost tempted to go down a crumbling staircase, which leads from my kitchen into theSala de los Embajadores, to indite my epistle from alocal conveniente a sa Ecc. I am busy up here with a troop of painters and carpenters putting the part of the Alhambra given up to the Alcaide, and by him to me, into order: no small task, I can assure you, for, what with time, the French, and the barbarous Spaniards, all this enchanted spot is going the way of everything in Spain. To attempt any account of it would be impossible, either by pen or pencil. No previous idea can come up tothe exquisite beauty of the Alhambra. Here we are, with the most delicious breezes from the snowy mountain above us, perfumed by a thousand groves and gardens of vine, orange, and pomegranate, carolled by nightingales, who daily and nightly sing in the dark grove to the tune of “Ally Croker,”[14]all by the side of gushing streams and never-failing fountains. Here summer cometh not—notin the way that it appearsnot to comein Castille; but, while all below in the town andVegaare roasting, broiling, and baking, we neither know it nor feel it.
The journey here was very prosperous.Esposa y sa servidorstarted alone in thediligenceto Cordova. The heat without intense, inside (six inside) infernal. Ecija, another hell, and well deserves to be calledLa sartenilla[the frying-pan]de Andalucia. We remained at Cordova three days; in the ancientmezquitaa wood of pillars, some eight hundred odd, to say nothing of the holy chapel of the Moslems,La Ceca, which is finer and better preserved than anything even here, owing to thepurification of Sn. Fernando’smonks, which was simply daubing over with plaster of Paris all the painted arabesque and delicate damascene work of the Moor. A few years ago all this impurificationwas removed, and the worshippers of Mahomet and the fine arts made happy. Thence to Andujar perdiligence. Thence in acochewith nineMiquelitesto Granada, by Jaen. The road to Jaen through ploughed fields, uninhabited except by the gang of theBotiga, the José Maria of Jaen; but we neither saw nor heard of him, and duly arrived, well shaken, at the worst inn in Spain. Jaen very striking and picturesque. I was much bored by thecommandante, one Downie, who has forgotten English, but came to pay me a visit.
Thence to Granada, through the mountains, the most beautiful road (quoadroad) possible, a thing to delight Macadam. The scenery to delight any son of Adam with or without a Mac, full of torrents, rivers, rocks, precipices, goats, vines, figs, lights and shades, etc., but wanting in good accommodation for man or beast. So we went direct the seventeen leagues, seventeen mortal mountain leagues, at a pull, twenty-three hoursen coche; think of that, Master Brook![15]TheMiquelites, being well supplied with strong cigars of the worst Royal fabrication, ran and sang the whole way.
Arrived here at a most excellent inn, the best I have seen in Spain, and forgot all our woes at
PATIO DE LOS LEONES.[To face p. 40.Harriet Ford, 1832.
PATIO DE LOS LEONES.[To face p. 40.Harriet Ford, 1832.
PATIO DE LOS LEONES.
[To face p. 40.
Harriet Ford, 1832.
Harriet Ford, 1832.
the first sight of the Albaicin, Generalife, and Alhambra, with the cold, snowy, sparkling Sierra glistening in the blue cloudless sky. Then such anairecillo: not the one in thecalle Alcaláthat goes through yourCapaand upper Benjamin in the twinkling of a bedpost, but a mild, gentle, refreshing, reinvigorating breeze. Then such a profusion of tree and water. General O’Lawlor, very civil, has procured me the Governor’s suite of apartments in the Alhambra, one staircase of which leads into theSala de los Embajadores(as aforesaid), where I hope and trust to have the honour of receiving the present one of his B.M. The other leads to thePatio de los Leones, which beat Pidcock’s lions, and are lions worth seeing.All very quiet. They were prepared to rise had the thing succeeded at Cadiz, but as that didnot, they think little about it, but eat their ices as usual.There has been a horrid execution here, which was calculated to excite a revolution anywhere. A beautiful widow, connected with high families, wasgarrotted, solely for a Constitutional flag, with a half-embroidered motto, having been found in her possession. She refused to give any account of it herself, or any accomplices. The matter was sent to Madrid, and down came, to the equalhorror and surprise of every one, an order for her execution! a woman executed for such an offenceanno1831! They certainly manage these things differently in Spain.If you come, you must do soper diligenceto Andujar, and thence ride in two days across the country with three or four of these stoutMiquelites. You will find every comfort in the inn, and I am now constructing a sort of a grate, the sweet vision of Your Excellency’s excellent, super-excellent,rost-bifever floating before my eyes as the hour of 6 approaches. I cannot promise such fare as it was my lot to consume at Madrid, and which sent me back to the conjugal embraceEpicuri de grege porcum. But you shall dine in the fabled palace of the Moorish kings: the fountains shall play, and a band ofGitanasshall dance their half-voluptuous dance around you; you shall drink the purest, coldest water from the Moorish cistern, which is opposite my window, and which I am supplied withgratis: (it costing to the public anocharo per cantaro);[16]you shall eat the delicious ice, theQueso de albaricoqui; and, last of all, a most hearty welcome fromS. S. S. y amigo,R. F.
the first sight of the Albaicin, Generalife, and Alhambra, with the cold, snowy, sparkling Sierra glistening in the blue cloudless sky. Then such anairecillo: not the one in thecalle Alcaláthat goes through yourCapaand upper Benjamin in the twinkling of a bedpost, but a mild, gentle, refreshing, reinvigorating breeze. Then such a profusion of tree and water. General O’Lawlor, very civil, has procured me the Governor’s suite of apartments in the Alhambra, one staircase of which leads into theSala de los Embajadores(as aforesaid), where I hope and trust to have the honour of receiving the present one of his B.M. The other leads to thePatio de los Leones, which beat Pidcock’s lions, and are lions worth seeing.
All very quiet. They were prepared to rise had the thing succeeded at Cadiz, but as that didnot, they think little about it, but eat their ices as usual.
There has been a horrid execution here, which was calculated to excite a revolution anywhere. A beautiful widow, connected with high families, wasgarrotted, solely for a Constitutional flag, with a half-embroidered motto, having been found in her possession. She refused to give any account of it herself, or any accomplices. The matter was sent to Madrid, and down came, to the equalhorror and surprise of every one, an order for her execution! a woman executed for such an offenceanno1831! They certainly manage these things differently in Spain.
If you come, you must do soper diligenceto Andujar, and thence ride in two days across the country with three or four of these stoutMiquelites. You will find every comfort in the inn, and I am now constructing a sort of a grate, the sweet vision of Your Excellency’s excellent, super-excellent,rost-bifever floating before my eyes as the hour of 6 approaches. I cannot promise such fare as it was my lot to consume at Madrid, and which sent me back to the conjugal embraceEpicuri de grege porcum. But you shall dine in the fabled palace of the Moorish kings: the fountains shall play, and a band ofGitanasshall dance their half-voluptuous dance around you; you shall drink the purest, coldest water from the Moorish cistern, which is opposite my window, and which I am supplied withgratis: (it costing to the public anocharo per cantaro);[16]you shall eat the delicious ice, theQueso de albaricoqui; and, last of all, a most hearty welcome from
S. S. S. y amigo,R. F.
P. S.—Mr. Sᵗᵉ Barbe,el ingles afrancesado, and Mr. de Custine,el Frances inglesado, being duly dressed asmajosby Pindar of Seville, departed for Tariffa, where the Marquis tells me he is going to write “some poem about the good Guzman.” They are then coming here. I shall entertain them in the Alhambra, and be immortalised in a note by this poetical Marquis.My wife thinks she can manage a room and a sort of a bed for you and your man. It appears inhospitable in me to talk of the inn, but the Alhambra is but a ruin; however, you shall choose yourself.Utrum horum mavis accipe.
P. S.—Mr. Sᵗᵉ Barbe,el ingles afrancesado, and Mr. de Custine,el Frances inglesado, being duly dressed asmajosby Pindar of Seville, departed for Tariffa, where the Marquis tells me he is going to write “some poem about the good Guzman.” They are then coming here. I shall entertain them in the Alhambra, and be immortalised in a note by this poetical Marquis.
My wife thinks she can manage a room and a sort of a bed for you and your man. It appears inhospitable in me to talk of the inn, but the Alhambra is but a ruin; however, you shall choose yourself.Utrum horum mavis accipe.
Alhambra,June 15 [1831].
I am very sorry that, at this distance from my worthy friend theAssistente, there is no chance of extracting from him the information you want, which I think I could have managed at Seville in acarelessway. If I were to write to him, he would instantly be alarmed, and attach great importance to it. I enclose a letter to Lord Dudley for Mr. de Gersdorf (?) instead of one to Lord Essex; a letter to Lord Essex would be of no use, for he has now totally abandoned and shut up Cassiobury, whichwasvery well worth seeing when he lived there; secondly, he lives entirely in a set of his own, and I know from long experience hates nothinglike the sight of a foreigner;—as he expresses himself, “damn all foreigners; none shall put their foot in my house.”
I am comfortably settled here, after much painting and whitewashing, and, if you can steal away from Madrid, can give you a tidy bedroom and sitting-room, with a view out of the windows quite unequalled. The difference in the thermometer here and in the town below is some 6 or 8 degrees; then we have always such a delicious breeze, and such a constant trickling and splashing of fountains. I am sorry to say that theLionsare all adry, and the flowers in the courtyard past dying; a wall fell down the other day, which supported the aqueduct, which used to supply these cool courts. They are fast repairing it, but it is a work of great extent, and the Spaniards do not do things in an offhand style here any more than at Madrid. We have had a rare party of English Tigers, looking at the Lions; they flock out from Gibraltar, now the communication is again open, and astonish the natives in their red jackets, redder faces, and the quantity of undiluted wine they consume. Captain Pascoe, a gentlemanlike man,aide-de-campto General Don, has been here.
We are going to be regaled with more executions—two officers who were found tampering with theirtroops. (They deserve it; but poor Mariana! who might have been spared.)
It is impossible to describe, either by pen or pencil, the extraordinary freshness and beauty of this spot, so take time by the forelock, and, as Ovid says:
Nil mihi rescribas, attamen, ipse veni.
Nil mihi rescribas, attamen, ipse veni.
Nil mihi rescribas, attamen, ipse veni.
Alhambra,Sunday, 14th June, /31.I am delighted to hear that you are really coming here; you will find at least a clean bed, and a clean dinner, with no oil or garlic.You must put up with the unfurnished, whitewashed sort of way we are living in, which is unlike the gorgeous mansion in Alcala Street.Everything is arranged, and you will find acocheat Andujar, and a sufficient number ofMiquelites. They have lately taken so many robbers, executed some, banished others, that the road is quite safe. I should recommend your buying some cigars at Andujar, which, being duly distributed to the men,majorals, and innkeepers, will act like magic. I expended a dollar in them on my journey, and am celebrated inlos cuatro reinosas the greatest and most affable milor ever seen since the ‘grand Lord’ commanded in Spain.I have written to Downie, to get the inn ready for you, and to provide, if possible, some partridges,and not have you bothered with ceremony, guards, or visits,—all which he nevertheless will doubtless inflict on you, calculating by the Rule of 3 principle. If he did such and such things for a simple milor, what will he do for anembajador?I have duly instructed O’Lawlor on your being left quiet, which I think you will be, at least in the Alhambra, as no Spaniard has courage to face the hill, or any wish to see anything of their much superior predecessors, the Moors.The 20th, or thereabouts, is the time to go up the Sierra Nevada. I am thinking of taking my wife that trip, so you may imagine it is not attended with much difficulty. It is a glorious mountain, though the dog-days have played the devil with the snow. Still there is enough left to swear by, and to cool one’s wine. By God’s blessing, a quarter-cask of sherry has made its appearance in Granada, otherwise you would have got nothing butBara, a sort of clarety-porty wine, not bad in water, but very disagreeable to British officers, as they find it too weak to drink in goblets this hot weather. The weather has been very hot, but getting cooler,—down to 72 at night.You will have a terrible bad road to Jaen, and I should set out very early, before 4, and get intoJaen before the great heat of the day. Set out again early for Campillo de la Arena, half way to Granada. I remained there four or five hours in the day, and came on in the night, getting here very early in the morning. I would, however, not recommend that to you. You had better sleep at Campillo, where you will getpartridges, on asking if there are any to be bought in the village.By setting out betimes, you will get here in nine or ten hours, and I will take care and have aroast pavito[young cock turkey], which is equivalent to a London fowl, ready for you.My wife is frightened at the thoughts of our cuisine, but I assure her that you are an ex-dyspeptic, and not very difficult, rather more in that you donoteat than in what you do.My Spanish servant (who calls himself mymajor duomo) wants me to borrow a service of plate, and have the dinners sent up from the inn!! Lord deliver us! They are curious people,muy Etiqueteros(I can’t even spell the word), and think we are as great asses as themselves. What we have here are delicious eggs—laid under your window, fine fruit, tolerable mutton, good bread and water, and a jack for roasting, the only one in Granada, to say nothing of cool breezes, cool fountains (thoughthey don’t play), much shade, many nightingales (though they don’t sing now), and plenty of snow, and a view, from the windows and all about, passing all understanding; but you will see with your own eyes and hear with your own ears, so no more for the present.
Alhambra,Sunday, 14th June, /31.
I am delighted to hear that you are really coming here; you will find at least a clean bed, and a clean dinner, with no oil or garlic.
You must put up with the unfurnished, whitewashed sort of way we are living in, which is unlike the gorgeous mansion in Alcala Street.
Everything is arranged, and you will find acocheat Andujar, and a sufficient number ofMiquelites. They have lately taken so many robbers, executed some, banished others, that the road is quite safe. I should recommend your buying some cigars at Andujar, which, being duly distributed to the men,majorals, and innkeepers, will act like magic. I expended a dollar in them on my journey, and am celebrated inlos cuatro reinosas the greatest and most affable milor ever seen since the ‘grand Lord’ commanded in Spain.
I have written to Downie, to get the inn ready for you, and to provide, if possible, some partridges,and not have you bothered with ceremony, guards, or visits,—all which he nevertheless will doubtless inflict on you, calculating by the Rule of 3 principle. If he did such and such things for a simple milor, what will he do for anembajador?
I have duly instructed O’Lawlor on your being left quiet, which I think you will be, at least in the Alhambra, as no Spaniard has courage to face the hill, or any wish to see anything of their much superior predecessors, the Moors.
The 20th, or thereabouts, is the time to go up the Sierra Nevada. I am thinking of taking my wife that trip, so you may imagine it is not attended with much difficulty. It is a glorious mountain, though the dog-days have played the devil with the snow. Still there is enough left to swear by, and to cool one’s wine. By God’s blessing, a quarter-cask of sherry has made its appearance in Granada, otherwise you would have got nothing butBara, a sort of clarety-porty wine, not bad in water, but very disagreeable to British officers, as they find it too weak to drink in goblets this hot weather. The weather has been very hot, but getting cooler,—down to 72 at night.
You will have a terrible bad road to Jaen, and I should set out very early, before 4, and get intoJaen before the great heat of the day. Set out again early for Campillo de la Arena, half way to Granada. I remained there four or five hours in the day, and came on in the night, getting here very early in the morning. I would, however, not recommend that to you. You had better sleep at Campillo, where you will getpartridges, on asking if there are any to be bought in the village.
By setting out betimes, you will get here in nine or ten hours, and I will take care and have aroast pavito[young cock turkey], which is equivalent to a London fowl, ready for you.
My wife is frightened at the thoughts of our cuisine, but I assure her that you are an ex-dyspeptic, and not very difficult, rather more in that you donoteat than in what you do.
My Spanish servant (who calls himself mymajor duomo) wants me to borrow a service of plate, and have the dinners sent up from the inn!! Lord deliver us! They are curious people,muy Etiqueteros(I can’t even spell the word), and think we are as great asses as themselves. What we have here are delicious eggs—laid under your window, fine fruit, tolerable mutton, good bread and water, and a jack for roasting, the only one in Granada, to say nothing of cool breezes, cool fountains (thoughthey don’t play), much shade, many nightingales (though they don’t sing now), and plenty of snow, and a view, from the windows and all about, passing all understanding; but you will see with your own eyes and hear with your own ears, so no more for the present.
Alhambra,June 22 [1831].Dear Addington,I am going to give you proper and business-like answers to your six questions, and I think satisfactory ones to all.1. The inn is the best in Spain, but very crowded and veryhot, a long way from the Alhambra, and all up hill—quite out of the question, except early and late. You may, to be sure, ride up, and General O’Lawlor will send you a horse whenever you want; but I enclose you a plan of my dwelling up here, which is very spacious, and where I can accommodate you well and without the least inconvenience. You will then see the Alhambra in your dressing-gown, cool and comfortable, and never get heated or tired. You will, too, be within reach of the Generalife, which, if possible, is more beautiful than the Alhambra. It is about as high above the Alhambra as the Alhambra is above the town; but a tolerable shady walk through fig-trees, vines and pomegranates.2. The getting here will beeasilyaccomplished in acoche—that is, every bone will be broken, but, however, get here you will. I should take thediligenceto Baylen, and thence in one day to Jaen in thecoche. The road, I am told, is tolerable. I came from Andujar, which would be out of your way—the road the most infernal ever seen. From Jaen to Granada it is magnificent; Macadam never made a better, and the scenery most beautiful and picturesque. We came in one day—that is, left Jaen early, 3 a.m., arrived at Campillo de Arenas about 1, halted till 5, eating salad andGuisado de Perdicesat the Venta; thencepernight to Granada, where we arrived about 4 a.m. The whole journey from Jaen takes about twenty hoursen route. You might do it quicker withoutMiquelites, as it is a long pull (seventeen leagues) for men to walk in one day; thermometer at 3000, and up hill. Now if your plans really do ripen into reality, what you should do is this: let me know the day you leave Madrid; the third night you will get to Andujar or Baylen. I will send over the identicalcochewhich brought us, a roomy one with four mules, and an excellentmajoral, who will buy you partridges at the Venta, etc. The cost will be 29 dollars for the six days there and back. I will manage with O’Lawlor that a troop ofMiquelites,eight or nine, shall be picked men, and sent with thecoche. I gave them 25 dollars for nine men eight days. They generally get apezetaapiece, but half a dollar is what they well deserve, as they are fine fellows.3. I know thecommandanteat Jaen, who will choose the best. The saidcommandante, Downie, the d—st bore in Jaen, Spain, or anywhere, will call upon you and plague your heart out with bad English, etc.My silver watch is excellent, and cost three dollars at Madrid. I should think you might buy Mr. Pearson’s, who bought one too for one dollar.[17]4. I hear there is some shooting here; but August is very hot, except up in the Sierra Nevada, where I propose going, as the view is superb—Mediterranean, Atlantic, Africa, etc. The Pico de Valeta is easily ascended in August.5. The post comes in very regularly twice a week, and goes out the day after—from Madrid in three days and a half. The letters do not appear to be opened.6. Plenty of hats, white and black straw andchip, in Granada; the men here are the greatest dandies in Spain, and are not at all ill dressed.I should not think you will be much bothered. O’Lawlor is a sensible man, and does not bore one, but is very civil, and will be of great use in every way, and abankerbesides. As he has to remit money to the Duke of Wellington, he is glad of good bills on London.Your journey here will take you six days; there is not much, I believe, in Granada to be seen. I seldom go there, except in the cool dark night, to eat ices.Thisis the place; you willseeit in a morning; but the more one lives in it, the more delightful it is. The walks about are charming. If you live in the town, you will not see much more of the Alhambra than those brutes the natives, who think itfabrica antiqua, obra de los arabes, to which they seem to have an antipathy.You must make up your mind to fare but indifferently here when compared to your own goodménage; but we can, at all events, serve you up a clean dinner, and without any poisonous matters. At all events you must not think of going to the inn; you may as well stay where you are, as far as the Alhambra is concerned.Ever most sincerely,Rich. Ford.
Alhambra,June 22 [1831].
Dear Addington,
I am going to give you proper and business-like answers to your six questions, and I think satisfactory ones to all.
1. The inn is the best in Spain, but very crowded and veryhot, a long way from the Alhambra, and all up hill—quite out of the question, except early and late. You may, to be sure, ride up, and General O’Lawlor will send you a horse whenever you want; but I enclose you a plan of my dwelling up here, which is very spacious, and where I can accommodate you well and without the least inconvenience. You will then see the Alhambra in your dressing-gown, cool and comfortable, and never get heated or tired. You will, too, be within reach of the Generalife, which, if possible, is more beautiful than the Alhambra. It is about as high above the Alhambra as the Alhambra is above the town; but a tolerable shady walk through fig-trees, vines and pomegranates.
2. The getting here will beeasilyaccomplished in acoche—that is, every bone will be broken, but, however, get here you will. I should take thediligenceto Baylen, and thence in one day to Jaen in thecoche. The road, I am told, is tolerable. I came from Andujar, which would be out of your way—the road the most infernal ever seen. From Jaen to Granada it is magnificent; Macadam never made a better, and the scenery most beautiful and picturesque. We came in one day—that is, left Jaen early, 3 a.m., arrived at Campillo de Arenas about 1, halted till 5, eating salad andGuisado de Perdicesat the Venta; thencepernight to Granada, where we arrived about 4 a.m. The whole journey from Jaen takes about twenty hoursen route. You might do it quicker withoutMiquelites, as it is a long pull (seventeen leagues) for men to walk in one day; thermometer at 3000, and up hill. Now if your plans really do ripen into reality, what you should do is this: let me know the day you leave Madrid; the third night you will get to Andujar or Baylen. I will send over the identicalcochewhich brought us, a roomy one with four mules, and an excellentmajoral, who will buy you partridges at the Venta, etc. The cost will be 29 dollars for the six days there and back. I will manage with O’Lawlor that a troop ofMiquelites,eight or nine, shall be picked men, and sent with thecoche. I gave them 25 dollars for nine men eight days. They generally get apezetaapiece, but half a dollar is what they well deserve, as they are fine fellows.
3. I know thecommandanteat Jaen, who will choose the best. The saidcommandante, Downie, the d—st bore in Jaen, Spain, or anywhere, will call upon you and plague your heart out with bad English, etc.
My silver watch is excellent, and cost three dollars at Madrid. I should think you might buy Mr. Pearson’s, who bought one too for one dollar.[17]
4. I hear there is some shooting here; but August is very hot, except up in the Sierra Nevada, where I propose going, as the view is superb—Mediterranean, Atlantic, Africa, etc. The Pico de Valeta is easily ascended in August.
5. The post comes in very regularly twice a week, and goes out the day after—from Madrid in three days and a half. The letters do not appear to be opened.
6. Plenty of hats, white and black straw andchip, in Granada; the men here are the greatest dandies in Spain, and are not at all ill dressed.
I should not think you will be much bothered. O’Lawlor is a sensible man, and does not bore one, but is very civil, and will be of great use in every way, and abankerbesides. As he has to remit money to the Duke of Wellington, he is glad of good bills on London.
Your journey here will take you six days; there is not much, I believe, in Granada to be seen. I seldom go there, except in the cool dark night, to eat ices.Thisis the place; you willseeit in a morning; but the more one lives in it, the more delightful it is. The walks about are charming. If you live in the town, you will not see much more of the Alhambra than those brutes the natives, who think itfabrica antiqua, obra de los arabes, to which they seem to have an antipathy.
You must make up your mind to fare but indifferently here when compared to your own goodménage; but we can, at all events, serve you up a clean dinner, and without any poisonous matters. At all events you must not think of going to the inn; you may as well stay where you are, as far as the Alhambra is concerned.
Ever most sincerely,Rich. Ford.
July 27 [1831],Alhambra.I am afraid, as you say nothing about your journey to Granada, that you have had bad news from home; all work and no play. How unlucky all this business about the free trade of Cadiz, and the voluminous speculations thereon by my friend the Proconsul; to say nothing of despatches from Hopner to plague your heart out. Well, well!no tiene remedio. I only mention all this, as it is considered unlucky here not to ascend thePico de Valetaabout this time, in some of these three or four “glorious days” of July, glorious Dog Days;son en canicula. However, we managed to keep our thermometer under 80, which is not more than the heat at Paris, as I seeperGalignani—for which accept my greatest thanks—that true pabulum of an Englishman. The three received yesterday were very amusing: the debate on the reform, Macaulay’s essay oratorical, Porchester’s discourse peninsular and historical, Wetherell droll and coarsish, somelucid intervals, as was said of that part of his shirt which always appears between his breeches and waistcoat; Peel sentential and sonorous in the Joseph Surface school; and bravo! old Sir Francis Burdett, who gave him a sound drubbing. For all that, I would vote against the bill, professing myself abit by bitreformer. TheTories may thank themselves, for the people could not but see, after that Bassetlaw job,[18]that they would do nothing for them.Monʳ de Sᵗᵉ Barbe and A. Custine, Esq., have duly started for Madrid with his unfinished MSS. By speaking bad English, the one is forgetting his French—the other, the wholesome vernacular tongue as expressed in Hampshire. I don’t think they took kindly to the Alhambra; however, you will see and hear. I have begged the Marquis de Sᵗᵉ Barbe to give you some account of myLocaland poor means of receiving so great a personage as your Excellency. I can only say that it will becon muchisimo agrado. Mrs. Ford has got a Pajes,[19]and there is a dark glancing Spaniard washing clothes in the Alhambra, to whom you may pour forth your amatoryrondeñas.I rather think that, about the middle of September, I shall come up to Madrid with my spouse for a very few days, show her Toledo and the Escurial, and return by a short cut (to diddleCastaños)through Zaragoça, Barcelona, and Valencia. This little trip will occupy very well a couple of the autumnal months; and then on to Malaga; and should any rows take place, and the consular protection of the apostolic Mark be insufficient, I shall place myself under the batteries of Gibraltar: so much for plans. If you have time, you may let me have a line as to yours, whether we have any chance of your visit. You really should come, for, depend on it, the old woman of the Alhambra, in whose house we are living, will never let the Governor turn her out again, and if you do not live in the Alhambra, you may as well remain in the Calle de Alcalá.
July 27 [1831],Alhambra.
I am afraid, as you say nothing about your journey to Granada, that you have had bad news from home; all work and no play. How unlucky all this business about the free trade of Cadiz, and the voluminous speculations thereon by my friend the Proconsul; to say nothing of despatches from Hopner to plague your heart out. Well, well!no tiene remedio. I only mention all this, as it is considered unlucky here not to ascend thePico de Valetaabout this time, in some of these three or four “glorious days” of July, glorious Dog Days;son en canicula. However, we managed to keep our thermometer under 80, which is not more than the heat at Paris, as I seeperGalignani—for which accept my greatest thanks—that true pabulum of an Englishman. The three received yesterday were very amusing: the debate on the reform, Macaulay’s essay oratorical, Porchester’s discourse peninsular and historical, Wetherell droll and coarsish, somelucid intervals, as was said of that part of his shirt which always appears between his breeches and waistcoat; Peel sentential and sonorous in the Joseph Surface school; and bravo! old Sir Francis Burdett, who gave him a sound drubbing. For all that, I would vote against the bill, professing myself abit by bitreformer. TheTories may thank themselves, for the people could not but see, after that Bassetlaw job,[18]that they would do nothing for them.
Monʳ de Sᵗᵉ Barbe and A. Custine, Esq., have duly started for Madrid with his unfinished MSS. By speaking bad English, the one is forgetting his French—the other, the wholesome vernacular tongue as expressed in Hampshire. I don’t think they took kindly to the Alhambra; however, you will see and hear. I have begged the Marquis de Sᵗᵉ Barbe to give you some account of myLocaland poor means of receiving so great a personage as your Excellency. I can only say that it will becon muchisimo agrado. Mrs. Ford has got a Pajes,[19]and there is a dark glancing Spaniard washing clothes in the Alhambra, to whom you may pour forth your amatoryrondeñas.
I rather think that, about the middle of September, I shall come up to Madrid with my spouse for a very few days, show her Toledo and the Escurial, and return by a short cut (to diddleCastaños)through Zaragoça, Barcelona, and Valencia. This little trip will occupy very well a couple of the autumnal months; and then on to Malaga; and should any rows take place, and the consular protection of the apostolic Mark be insufficient, I shall place myself under the batteries of Gibraltar: so much for plans. If you have time, you may let me have a line as to yours, whether we have any chance of your visit. You really should come, for, depend on it, the old woman of the Alhambra, in whose house we are living, will never let the Governor turn her out again, and if you do not live in the Alhambra, you may as well remain in the Calle de Alcalá.
During Addington’s stay at the Alhambra, Ford, his wife, and their guest ascended the Picacho de la Veleta, “the watch-point,” the second highest peak (12,459 feet) of the Sierra Nevada. The greater part of the ascent to the top of the conical peak, about twenty miles, was ridden, the party sleeping for the night at the Cortijo del Puche.
After Addington had left, the Fords started (September 9th, 1831) on an expedition to eastern Spain, Mrs. Ford on a donkey, her husband on horseback, and their servant Pasqual in a one-horse, two-wheeled, covered cart. They made their way over the mountains by Elche, the “City of Palms,” to Alicante; thence by San Felipe de Xativa, the birthplace of Ribera (Spagnoletto) andPope Alexander VI., and the prison of his son Cæsar Borgia, to Valencia.
At Valencia Ford stayed several days, delighting in the pictures of Vicente Joanes[20]and Francisco Ribalta.[21]Thence he made his way by Murviedro (Saguntum) to Tarragona and Barcelona. On the road from Barcelona to Tarragona they turned aside to see Montserrat, spent a night in the convent on the jagged saw-like hills, dropped down on Manresa and the famouscueva de san Ignacio, visited the salt mines at Cardona, rejoined the high road and thediligence, and so reached Zaragoza.
Zaragoza, the pilgrim city of Arragon, “the Ephesus of Mariolatry,” as Ford calls it in hisHandbook, has two cathedrals, theSeu, andEl Pilar. The latter marks the spot where the Virgin, standing on a jasper pillar, bade St. James build a chapel in her honour. At the time of Ford’s visit to the city its houses were still riddled and pitted with shot-marks. They were the honourable scars of two memorable sieges, of which Agustina, “La Artillera,” the maid of Zaragoza who snatched the match from a dying artilleryman and fired upon the French, and Tio Jorge, “Gaffer George,” who organised the peasants for the defence, were the real heroes. The first siege lasted from June 15th to August 15th, 1808. Led, as they believed, by the Virgin of the Pillar, the inhabitants fought with desperate courage. It was in the convent of Santa Engracia that the French effected a lodgment. On August 15th, those ofthe invaders who survived had retreated, after blowing up the monastery and leaving it in ruins. The attack was renewed on December 20th. Four marshals of France directed the operations of the siege. Shot and shell, plague and famine, did their work within the walls. On February 20th, 1809, after holding out for sixty-two days, Zaragoza surrendered to Marshal Lannes.