Chapter VIII: Part 8

The Hours of the _Ave Bell_, are eight and twelve in the Morning, and six in the Evening. They pretend at the first to fall down in beg that God would be pleas'd to prosper them in all things they go about that Day. At twelve they return Thanks for their Preservation to that time; and at six for that of the whole Day. After which, one would think that they imagine themselves at perfect Liberty; and their open Gallantries perfectly countenance the Imagination: for tho' Adultery is look'd upon as a grievous Crime, and punish'd accordingly; yet Fornication is softened with the title of a Venial Sin, and they seem to practise it under that Persuasion.

I found here, what _Erasmus_ ridicules with so much Wit and Delicacy, the custom of burying in a _Franciscan's_ Habit, in mighty request. If they can for that purpose procure an old one at the price of a new one; the Purchaser wil look upon himself a provident Chap, that has secur'd to his deceased Friend or Relation, no less than Heaven by that wise Bargain.

The Evening being almost the only time of Enjoyment of Company, or Conversation, every body in _Spain_ then greedily seeks it; and the Streets are at that time crowded like our finest Gardens or most private Walks. On one of those Occasions, I met a Don of my Acquaintance walking out with his Sisters; and as I thought it became an _English_ Cavalier, I saluted him: But to my Surprize he never return'd the Civility. When I met him the Day after, instead of an Apology, as I had flattered my self, I received a Reprimand, tho' a very civil one; telling me it was the Custom in _Spain_, nor well taken of any one, that took Notice of any who were walking in the Company of Ladies at Night.

But a Night or two after, I found by Experience, that if the Men were by Custom prohibited taking Notice, Women were not. I was standing at the Door, in the cool of the Evening, when a Woman seemingly genteel, passing by, call'd me by my Name, telling me she wanted to speak with me: She had her _Mantilio_ on; so that had I had Day-light, I could have only seen one Eye of her. However I walk'd with her a good while, without being able to discover any thing of her Business, nor pass'd there between us any thing more than a Conversation upon indifferent Matters. Nevertheless, at parting she told me she should pass by again the next Evening; and if I would be at the Door, she would give me the same Advantage of a Conversation, That seem'd not to displease me. Accordingly the next Night she came, and as before we walk'd together in the privatest parts of the Town: For tho' I knew her not, her Discourse was always entertaining and full of Wit, and her Enquiries not often improper. We had continu'd this Intercourse many Nights together, when my Landlady's Daughter having taken Notice of it, stopt me one Evening, and would not allow me to stand at the usual Post of Intelligence, saying, with a good deal of heat, _Don Gorgio, take my Advice; go no more along with that Woman: You may soon be brought home deprived of your Life if you do_. I cannot say, whether she knew her; but this I must say, she was very agreeable in Wit as well as Person. However my Landlady and her Daughter took that Opportunity of giving me so many Instances of the fatal Issues of such innocent Conversations, (for I could not call it an Intrigue) that apprehensive enough of the Danger, on laying Circumstances together, I took their Advice, and never went into her Company after.

_Sainte Clemente de la Mancha_, where I so long remain'd a Prisoner of War, lies in the Road from _Madrid_ to _Valencia_; and the Duke of _Vendome_ being ordered to the latter, great Preparations were made for his Entertainment, as he pass'd through. He stay'd here only one Night, where he was very handsomely treated by the _Corrigidore_. He was a tall fair Person, and very fat, and at the time I saw him wore a long black Patch over his left Eye; but on what Occasion I could not learn. The afterwards famous _Alberoni_ (since made a Cardinal) was in his Attendance; as indeed the Duke was very rarely without him. I remember that very Day three Weeks, they return'd through the same Place; the Duke in his Herse, and _Alberoni_ in a Coach, paying his last Duties. That Duke was a prodigious Lover of Fish, of which having eat over heartily at _Veneros_, in the Province of _Valencia_, he took a Surfeit, and died in three Days' time. His Corps was carrying to the _Escurial_, there to be buried in the _Panthæon_ among their Kings.

The _Castilians_ have a Privilege by Licence from the Pope, which, if it could have been converted into a Prohibition, might have sav'd that Duke's Life: In regard their Country is wholly inland, and the River _Tagus_ famous for its Poverty, or rather Barrenness; their Holy Father indulges the Natives with the Liberty, in lieu of that dangerous Eatable, of eating all Lent time the Inwards of Cattle. When I first heard this related, I imagin'd, that the Garbidge had been intended, but I was soon after this rectify'd, _by Inwards_ (for so expressly says the Licence it self) _is meant the Heart, the Liver, and the Feet_.

They have here as well as in most other Parts of _Spain, Valencia_ excepted, the most wretched Musick in the Universe. Their _Guitars_, if not their _Sole_, are their darling Instruments, and what they most delight in: Tho' in my Opinion our _English_ Sailors are not much amiss in giving them the Title of _Strum Strums_. They are little better than our _Jews-harps,_ tho' hardly half so Musical. Yet are they perpetually at Nights disturbing their Women with the Noise of them, under the notion and name of Serenadoes. From the Barber to the Grandee the Infection spreads, and very often with the same Attendant, Danger: Night Quarrels and Rencounters being the frequent Result. The true born _Spaniards_ reckon it a part of their Glory, to be jealous of their Mistresses, which is too often the Forerunner of Murders; at best attended with many other very dangerous Inconveniences. And yet bad as their Musick is, their Dancing is the reverse. I have seen a Country Girl manage her Castanets with the graceful Air of a Dutchess, and that not to common Musick; but to Peoples beating or druming a Tune with their Hands on a Table. I have seen half a Dozen couple at a time dance to the like in excellent order.

I just now distinguish'd, by an Exception, the Music of _Valencia_, where alone I experienced the use of the Violin; which tho' I cannot, in respect to other Countries, call good; yet in respect to the other parts of _Spain_, I must acknowledge it much the best. In my Account of that City, I omitted to speak of it; therefore now to supply that Defect, I will speak of the best I heard, which was on this unfortunate Occasion: Several Natives of that Country having received Sentence of Death for their Adherence to King _Charles_, were accordingly ordered to the Place of Execution. It is the Custom there, on all such Occasions, for all the Musick of the City to meet near the Gallows, and play the most affecting and melancholy Airs, to the very approach of the Condemn'd; and really the Musick was so moving, it heightened the Scene of Sorrow, and brought Compassion into the Eyes of even Enemies.

As to the Condemn'd, they came stript of their own Cloaths, and cover'd with black Frocks, in which they were led along the Streets to the Place of Execution, the Friars praying all the way. When they came through any Street, were any public Images were fix'd, they stay'd before 'em some reasonable time in Prayer with the Friars. When they are arriv'd at the fatal Place, those Fathers leave 'em not, but continue praying and giving them ghostly Encouragement, standing upon the rounds of the Ladder till they are turn'd off. The Hangman always wears a silver Badge of a Ladder to distinguish his Profession: But his manner of executing his Office had somewhat in it too singular to allow of Silence. When he had ty'd fast the Hands of the Criminal, he rested his Knee upon them, and with one Hand on the Criminal's Nostrils, to stop his Breath the sooner, threw himself off the Ladder along with the dying Party. This he does to expedite his Fate; tho' considering the Force, I wonder it does not tear Head and Body asunder; which yet I never heard that it did.

But to return to _la Mancha_; I had been there now upwards of two Years, much diverted with the good Humour and Kindness of the Gentlemen, and daily pleased with the Conversation of the Nuns of the Nunnery opposite to my Lodgings; when walking one Day alone upon the _Plaza_, I found my self accosted by a _Clerico_. At the first Attack, he told me his Country: But added, that he now came from _Madrid_ with a _Potent_, that was his Word, from _Pedro de Dios_, Dean of the Inquisition, to endeavour the Conversion of any of the _English_ Prisoners; that being an _Irish-man_, as a sort of a Brother, he had conceived a Love for the _English_, and therefore more eagerly embraced the Opportunity which the Holy Inquisition had put into his Hands for the bringing over to Mother Church as many Hereticks as he could; that having heard a very good Character of me, he should think himself very happy, if he could be instrumental in my Salvation;

"It is very true, continu'd he, I have lately had the good Fortune to convert many; and besides the Candour of my own Disposition, I must tell you, that I have a peculiar knack at Conversion, which very few, if any, ever could resist. I am going upon the same work into _Murcia_; but your good Character is fix'd me in my Resolution of preferring your Salvation to that of others."

To this very long, and no less surprising Address, I only return'd, that it being an Affair of moment, it would require some Consideration; and that by the time he return'd from _Murcia_, I might be able to return him a proper Answer. But not at all satisfy'd with this Reply;

"Sir," says he, "God Almighty is all-sufficient: This moment is too precious to be lost; he can turn the Heart in the twinkling of an Eye, as well as in twenty Years. Hear me then; mind what I say to you: I will convince you immediately. You Hereticks do not believe in Transubstantiation, and yet did not our Saviour say in so many Words, _Hoc est corpus meum_? And if you don't believe him, don't you give him the Lye? Besides, does not one of the Fatherss ay, _Deus, qui est omnis Veritas, non potest dicere falsum_?"

He went on at the same ridiculous rate; which soon convinced me, he was a thorough Rattle. However, as a _Clerico_, and consequently in this Country, a Man dangerous to disoblige, I invited him home to Dinner; where when I had brought him, I found I had no way done an unacceptable thing; for my Landlady and her Daughter, seeing him to be a Clergyman, receiv'd him with a vast deal of Respect and Pleasure.

Dinner being over, he began to entertain me with a Detail of the many wonderful Conversions he had made upon obstinate Hereticks; that he had convinced the most Stubborn, and had such a _Nostrum_, that he would undertake to convert any one. Here he began his old round, intermixing his Harangue with such scraps and raw sentences of fustian _Latin_, that I grew weary of his Conversation; so pretending some Business of consequence, I took leave, and left him and my Landlady together.

I did not return till pretty late in the Evening, with Intent to give him Time enough to think his own Visit tedious; but to my great Surprize, I found my _Irish_ Missionary still on the Spot, ready to dare me to the Encounter, and resolv'd, like a true Son of the Church militant, to keep last on the Field of Battle. As soon as I had seated my self, he began again to tell me, how good a Character my Landlady had given me, which had prodigiously increased his Ardour of saving my Soul; that he could not answer it to his own Character, as well as mine, to be negligent; and therefore he had enter'd into a Resolution to stay my Coming, though it had been later. To all which, I return'd him Abundance of Thanks for his good Will, but pleading Indisposition and want of Rest, after a good deal of civil Impertinence, I once more got rid of him; at least, I took my Leave, and went to Bed, leaving him again Master of the Field; for I understood next Morning, that he stay'd some Time after I was gone, with my good Landlady.

Next Morning the Nuns of the Nunnery opposite, having taken Notice of the _Clerico's_ Ingress, long Visit, and late Egress, sent to know whether he was my Countryman; with many other Questions, which I was not then let into the Secret of. To all which I return'd, that he was no Countryman of mine, but an _Irish-man_, and so perfectly a Stranger to me, that I knew no more of him than what I had from his own Mouth, that he was going into _Murcia_. What the Meaning of this Enquiry was, I could never learn; but I could not doubt, but it proceeded from their great Care of their _Vicino_, as they call'd me; a Mark of their Esteem, and of which I was not a little proud.

As was my usual Custom, I had been taking my Morning Walk, and had not been long come home in order to Dinner, when in again drops my _Irish Clerico_; I was confounded, and vexed, and he could not avoid taking Notice of it; nevertheless, without the least Alteration of Countenance, he took his Seat; and on my saying, in a cold and indifferent Tone, that I imagin'd he had been got to _Murcia_ before this; he reply'd, with a natural Fleer, that truely he was going to _Murcia_, but his Conscience pricked him, and he did find that he could not go away with any Satisfaction, or Peace of Mind, without making me a perfect Convert; that he had plainly discovered in me a good Disposition, and had, for that very Reason, put himself to the Charge of Man and Mule, to the Bishop of _Cuenca_ for a Licence, under his Hand, for my Conversion: For in _Spain_, all private Missionaries are obliged to ask Leave of the next Bishop, before they dare enter upon any Enterprize of this Nature.

I was more confounded at this last Assurance of the Man than at all before; and it put me directly upon reflecting, whether any, and what Inconveniences might ensue, from a Rencounter that I, at first, conceiv'd ridiculous, but might now reasonably begin to have more dangerous Apprehensions of. I knew, by the Articles of War, all Persons are exempted from any Power of the Inquisition; but whether carrying on a Part in such a Farce, might not admit, or at least be liable to some dangerous Construction, was not imprudently now to be considered. Though I was not fearful, yet I resolv'd to be cautious. Wherefore not making any Answer to his Declaration about the Bishop, he took Notice of it; and to raise a Confidence, he found expiring, began to tell me, that his Name was _Murtough Brennan_, that he was born near _Kilkenny_, of a very considerable Family. This last part indeed, when I came to _Madrid_, I found pretty well confirm'd in a considerable Manner. However, taking Notice that he had alter'd his Tone of leaving the Town, and that instead of it, he was advancing somewhat like an Invitation of himself to Dinner the next Day, I resolv'd to show my self shy of him; and thereupon abruptly, and without taking any Leave, I left the Room, and my Landlady and him together.

Three or four Days had passed, every one of which, he never fail'd my Lodgings; not at Dinner Time only, but Night and Morning too; from all which I began to suspect, that instead of my Conversion, he had fix'd upon a Re-conversion of my Landlady. She was not young, yet, for a black Woman, handsom enough; and her Daughter very pretty: I entered into a Resolution to make my Observations, and watch them all at a Distance; nevertheless carefully concealing my Jealousy. However, I must confess, I was not a little pleas'd, that any Thing could divert my own Persecution. He was now no longer my Guest, but my Landlady's, with whom I found him so much taken up, that a little Care might frustrate all his former impertinent Importunities on the old Topick.

But all my Suspicions were very soon after turn'd into Certainties, in this Manner: I had been abroad, and returning somewhat weary, I went to my Chamber, to take, what in that Country they call, a _Cesto_, upon my Bed: I got in unseen, or without seeing any Body, but had scarce laid my self down, before my young Landlady, as I jestingly us'd to call the Daughter, rushing into my Room, threw her self down on the Floor, bitterly exclaiming. I started off my Bed, and immediately running to the Door, who should I meet there but my _Irish Clerico_, without his Habit, and in his Shirt? I could not doubt, by _the Dishabillé_ of the _Clerico_, but the young Creature had Reason enough for her Passion, which render'd me quite unable to master mine; wherefore as he stood with his Back next the Door, I thrust him in that ghostly Plight into the open Street.

I might, with leisure enough, have repented that precipitate Piece of Indiscretion; if it had not been for his bad Character, and the favourable Opinion the Town had conceived of me; for he inordinately exclaim'd against me, calling me Heretick, and telling the People, who were soon gathered round him, that coming to my Lodgings on the charitable work of Conversion, I had thus abus'd him, stript him of his Habit, and then turn'd him out of Doors. The Nuns, on their hearing the Outcries he made, came running to their Grates, to enquire into the Matter, and when they understood it, as he was pleas'd to relate it; though they condemn'd my Zeal, they pity'd my Condition. Very well was it for me, that I stood more than a little well in the good Opinion of the Town; among the Gentry, by my frequent Conversation, and the inferior Sort by my charitable Distributions; for nothing can be more dangerous, or a nearer Way to violent Fate, than to insult one of the Clergy in _Spain_, and especially, for such an one as they entitle a Heretick.

My old Landlady (I speak in respect to her Daughter) however formerly my seeming Friend, came in a violent Passion, and wrenching the Door out of my Hands, opened it, and pull'd her _Clerico_ in; and so soon as she had done this, she took his Part, and railed so bitterly at me, that I had no Reason longer to doubt her thorough Conversion, under the full Power of his Mission. However the young one stood her Ground, and by all her Expressions, gave her many Inquirers Reason enough to believe, all was not Matter of Faith that the _Clerico_ had advanced. Nevertheless, holding it adviseable to change my Lodgings, and a Friend confirming my Resolutions, I removed that Night.

The _Clerico_ having put on his upper Garments, was run away to the _Corrigidor_, in a violent Fury, resolving to be early, as well knowing, that he who tells his Story first, has the Prospect of telling it to double Advantage. When he came there, he told that Officer a thousand idle Stories, and in the worst Manner; repeating how I had abus'd him, and not him only, but my poor Landlady, for taking his Part. The _Corrigidor_ was glad to hear it all, and with an officious Ear fish'd for a great deal more; expecting, according to Usage, at last to squeeze a Sum of Money out of me. However he told the _Clerico_, that, as I was a Prisoner of War, he had no direct Power over me; but if he would immediately write to the President _Ronquillo_, at _Madrid_, he would not fail to give his immediate Orders, according to which he would as readily act against me.

The _Clerico_ resolv'd to pursue his old Maxim and cry out first; and so taking the _Corrigidor's_ Advice, he wrote away to _Madrid_ directly. In the mean Time the People in the Town, both high and low, some out of Curiosity, some out of Friendship, pursu'd their Enquiries into the Reality of the Facts. The old Landlady they could make little of to my Advantage; but whenever the young one came to the Question, she always left them with these Words in her Mouth, _El Diabolo en forma del Clerico_, which rendring Things more than a little cloudy on the _Clerico's_ Side, he was advis'd and press'd by his few Friends, as fast as he could to get out of Town; Nuns, Clergy, and every Body taking Part against him, excepting his new Convert, my old Landlady.

The Day after, as I was sitting with a Friend at my new Quarters, _Maria_ (for that was the Name of my Landlady's Daughter) came running in with these Words in her Mouth, _El Clerico, el Clerico, passa la Calle_. We hasten'd to the Window, out of which we beheld the _Clerico, Murtough Brennan_, pitifully mounted on the Back of a very poor Ass (for they would neither let, nor lend him a Mule through all the Town) his Legs almost rested on the Ground, for he was lusty, as his Ass was little; and a Fellow with a large Cudgel march'd a-foot, driving his Ass along. Never did _Sancha Pancha_, on his Embassage to _Dulcinea_, make such a despicable, out of the way Figure, as our _Clerico_ did at this Time. And what increas'd our Mirth was, their telling me, that our _Clerico_, like that Squire (tho' upon his own Priest-Errantry) was actually on his March to _Toboso_, a Place five Leagues off, famous for the Nativity of _Dulcinea_, The Object of the Passion of that celebrated Hero _Don Quixot_. So I will leave our _Clerico_ on his Journey to _Murcia_, to relate the unhappy Sequel of this ridiculous Affair.

I have before said, that, by the Advice of the _Corrigidor, our Clerico_ had wrote to _Don Ronquillo_ at _Madrid_. About a Fortnight after his Departure from _la Mancha_, I was sitting alone in my new Lodgings, when two _Alguizils_ (Officers under the _Corrigidor_, and in the Nature of our Bailiffs) came into my Room, but very civilly, to tell me, that they had Orders to carry me away to Prison; but at the same Moment they advis'd me, not to be afraid; for they had observed, that the whole Town was concern'd at what the _Corrigidor_ and _Clerico_ had done; adding, that it was their Opinion, that I should find so general a Friendship, that I need not be apprehensive of any Danger. With these plausible Speeches, though I afterwards experienced the Truth of them, I resign'd my self, and went with them to a much closer Confinement.

I had not been there above a Day or two, before many Gentlemen of the Place sent to me, to assure me, they were heartily afflicted at my Confinement, and resolv'd to write in my Favour to _Madrid_; but as it was not safe, nor the Custom in _Spain_, to visit those in my present Circumstances, they hoped I would not take it amiss, since they were bent to act all in their Power towards my Deliverance; concluding however with their Advice, that I would not give one _Real of Plata_ to the _Corrigidor_, whom they hated, but confide in their assiduous Interposal, Don _Pedro de Ortega_ in particular, the Person that perform'd the Part of the _Tauriro_ on Horseback, sometime before, sent me Word, he would not fail to write to a Relation of his, of the first Account in _Madrid_, and so represent the Affair, that I should not long be debarr'd my old Acquaintance.

It may administer, perhaps, Matter of Wonder, that _Spaniards_, Gentlemen of the stanchest Punctilio, should make a Scruple and execute themselves from visiting Persons under Confinement, when, according to all Christian Acceptation, such a Circumstance would render such a Visit, not charitable only but generous. But though Men of vulgar Spirits might, from the Narrowness of their Views, form such insipid Excuses, those of these Gentlemen, I very well knew, proceeded from much more excusable Topicks. I was committed under the Accusation of having abus'd a sacred Person, one of the Clergy; and though, as a Prisoner of War, I might deem my self exempt from the Power of the Inquisition; yet how far one of that Country, visiting a Person, so accused, might be esteemed culpable, was a consideration in that dangerous Climate, far from deserving to be slighted. To me therefore, who well knew the Customs of the Country, and the Temper of its Countrymen, their Excuses were not only allowable, but acceptable also; for, without calling in Question their Charity, I verily believ'd I might falsely confide in their Honour.

Accordingly, after I had been a close Prisoner one Month to a Day, I found the Benefit of these Gentlemen's Promises and Solicitations. Pursuant to which, an Order was brought for my immediate Discharge; notwithstanding, the new Convert, my old Landlady, did all she could to make her appearing against me effectual, to the Height of her Prejudice and Malice, even while the Daughter, as sensible of my Innocence, and acting with a much better Conscience, endeavoured as much to justify me, against both the Threats and Persuasions of the _Corrigidor_, and his few Accomplices, though her own Mother made one.

After Receipt of this Order for my Enlargement, I was mightily press'd by Don _Felix_, and others of my Friends, to go to _Madrid_, and enter my Complaint against the _Corrigidor_ and the _Clerico_, as a Thing highly essential to my own future Security. Without asking Leave therefore of the _Corrigidor_, or in the least acquainting him with it, I set out from _la Mancha_, and, as I afterwards understood, to the terrible Alarm of that griping Officer; who was under the greatest Consternation, when he heard I was gone; for as he knew very well, that he had done more than he could justify, he was very apprehensive of any Complaint; well knowing, that as he was hated as much as I was beloved, he might assure himself of the Want of that Assistance from the Gentlemen, which I had experienced.

So soon as I arrived at _Madrid_, I made it my Business to enquire out, and wait upon Father _Fahy_, Chief of the _Irish College_. He received me very courteously; but when I acquainted him with the Treatment I had met with from _Brennan_, and had given him an Account of his other scandalous Behaviour, I found he was no Stranger to the Man, or his Character; for he soon confirm'd to me the Honour _Brennan_ first boasted of, his considerable Family, by saying, that scarce an Assize passed in his own Country, without two or three of that Name receiving at the Gallows the just Reward of their Demerits. In short, not only Father _Fahy_, but all the Clergy of that Nation at _Madrid_, readily subscribed to this Character of him, _That he was a Scandal to their Country_.

After this, I had nothing more to do, but to get that Father to go with me to _Pedro de Dios_, who was the Head of the _Dominican_ Cloyster, and Dean of the Inquisition. He readily granted my Request, and when we came there, in a Manner unexpected, represented to the Dean, that having some good Dispositions towards Mother-Church, I had been diverted from them, he feared, by the evil Practices of one _Murtough Brennan_, a Countryman of his, tho' a Scandal to his Country; that under a Pretence of seeking my Conversion, he had lay'd himself open in a most beastly Manner, such as would have set a Catholick into a vile Opinion of their Religion, and much more one that was yet a Heretick. The Dean had hardly Patience to hear Particulars; but as soon as my Friend had ended his Narration, he immediately gave his Orders, prohibiting _Murtough's_ saying any more Masses, either in _Madrid_, or any other Place in _Spain_. This indeed was taking away the poor Wretches sole Subsistence, and putting him just upon an Equality with his Demerits.

I took the same Opportunity to make my Complaints of the _Corrigidor_; but his Term expiring very soon, and a Process being likely to be chargeable, I was advised to let it drop. So having effected what I came for, I returned to my old Station at _la Mancha_.

When I came back, I found a new _Corrigidor_, as I had been told there would, by the Dean of the Inquisition, who, at the same Time, advised me to wait on him. I did so, soon after my Arrival, and then experienced the Advice to be well intended; the Dean having wrote a Letter to him, to order him to treat me with all Manner of Civility. He show'd me the very Letter, and it was in such particular and obliging Terms, that I could not but perceive he had taken a Resolution, if possible, to eradicate all the evil impressions, that _Murtough's_ Behaviour might have given too great Occasion for. This serv'd to confirm me in an Observation that I had long before made, That a Protestant, who will prudently keep his Sentiments in his own Breast, may command any Thing in _Spain_; where their stiff Bigotry leads 'em naturally into that other Mistake, That not to oppose, is to assent. Besides, it is generally among them, almost a work of Supererogation to be even instrumental in the Conversion of one they call a Heretick. To bring any such back to what they call Mother Church, nothing shall be spar'd, nothing thought too much: And if you have Insincerity enough to give them Hopes, you shall not only live in Ease, but in Pleasure and Plenty.

I had entertain'd some thoughts on my Journey back, of taking up my old Quarters at the Widow's; but found her so intirely converted by her _Clerico_, that there wou'd be no room to expect Peace: For which Reason, with the help of my fair _Vicinos_, and _Don Felix_, I took another, where I had not been long, before I received an unhappy Account of _Murtough's_ Conduct in _Murcia_. It seems he had kept his Resolution in going thither; where meeting with some of his own Countrymen, though he found 'em stanch good Catholics, he so far inveigled himself into 'em, that he brought them all into a foul chance for their Lives. There were three of 'em, all Soldiers, in a _Spanish_ Regiment, but in a fit of ambitious, though frantick, Zeal: _Murtough_ had wheedled them to go along with him to _Pedro de Dios_, Dean of the Inquisition, to declare and acknowledge before him, that they were converted and brought over to Mother Church, and by him only. The poor Ignorants, thus intic'd, had left their Regiment, of which the Colonel, having notice, sent after them, and they were overtaken on the Road, their _Missionair_ with them. But notwithstanding all his Oratory, nay, even the Discovery of the whole Farce, one of them was hang'd for an Example to the other two.

It was not long after my Return before News arriv'd of the Peace; which though they receiv'd with Joy, they could hardly entertain with Belief. Upon which, the new _Corrigidor_, with whom I held a better Correspondence than I had done with the old one, desired me to produce my Letters from _England_, that it was true. Never did People give greater Demonstrations of Joy, than they upon this Occasion. It was the common cry in the Streets, _Paz con Angleterra, con todo Mundo Guerra_; And my Confirmation did them as much Pleasure as it did Service to me; for is possible, they treated me with more Civility than before.

But the Peace soon after being proclaimed, I received Orders to repair to _Madrid_, where the rest of the Prisoners taken at _Denia_ had been carried; when I, by reason of my Wounds, and want of Health, had been left behind. Others I understood lay ready, and some were on their March to _Bayone_ in _France_; where Ships were ordered for their Transportation into _England_. So after a Residence of three Years and three Months; having taken leave of all my Acquaintance, I left a Place, that was almost become natural to me, the delicious _Sainte Clemente de la Mancha_.

Nothing of Moment, or worth observing, met I with, till I came near _Ocanna_; and there occurred a Sight ridiculous enough. The Knight of the Town, I last came from, the ever renown'd _Don Quixot_, never made such a Figure as a _Spaniard_, I there met on the Road. He was mounted on a Mule of the largest size, and yet no way unsizeable to his Person: He had two Pistols in his Holsters, and one on each side stuck in his Belt; a sort of large Blunderbuss in one of his Hands, and the fellow to it slung over his Shoulders hung at his Back. All these were accompany'd with a right _Spanish Spado_, and an Attendant _Stiletto_, in their customary Position. The Muletier that was my guide, calling out to him in _Spanish_, told him he was very well arm'd; to which, with a great deal of Gravity, the Don returned Answer, _by Saint Jago a Man cannot be too well arm'd in such dangerous Times_.

I took up my Quarters that Night at _Ocanna_, a large, neat, and well built Town. Houses of good Reception, and Entertainment, are very scarce all over _Spain_; but that, where I then lay, might have pass'd for good in any other Country. Yet it gave me a Notion quite different to what I found: for I imagined it to proceed from my near Approach to the Capital. But instead of that, contrary to all other Countries, the nearer I came to _Madrid_, the Houses of Entertainment grew worse and worse; not in their Rates do I mean (for that with Reason enough might have been expected) but even in their Provision, and Places and way of Reception, I could not however forbear smiling at the Reason given by my Muletier, that it proceeded from a piece of Court Policy, in Order to oblige all Travellers to hasten to _Madrid_.

Two small Leagues from _Ocanna_ we arrived at _Aranjuez_, a Seat of Pleasure, which the Kings of _Spain_ commonly select for their place of Residence during the Months of _April and May_. It is distant from _Madrid_ about seven Leagues; and the Country round is the pleasantest in all _Spain, Valencia_ excepted. The House it self makes but a very indifferent Appearance; I have seen many a better in _England_, with an Owner to it of no more than five hundred Pounds _per Annum_; yet the Gardens are large and fine; or as the _Spaniards_ say, the finest in all _Spain_, which with them is all the World. They tell you at the same Time, that those of _Versailles_, in their most beautiful Parts, took their Model from these. I never saw those at _Versailles_: But in my Opinion, the Walks at _Aranjuez_, tho' noble in their length, lose much of their Beauty by their Narrowness.

The Water-works here are a great Curiosity; to which the River _Tagus_ running along close by, does mightily contribute. That River is let into the Gardens by a vast number of little Canals, which with their pleasing _Mæanders_ divert the Eye with inexpressible Delight. These pretty Wanderers by Pipes properly plac'd in them, afford Varieties scarce to be believ'd or imagin'd; and which would be grateful in any Climate; but much more, where the Air, as it does here, wants in the Summer Months perpetual cooling.

To see a spreading Tree, as growing in its natural Soil, distinguish'd from its pineing Neighbourhood by a gentle refreshing Shower, which appears softly distilling from every Branch and Leaf thereof, while Nature all around is smiling, without one liquid sign of Sorrow, to me appear'd surprizingly pleasing. And the more when I observ'd that its Neighbours receiv'd not any the least Benefit of that plentiful Effusion; And yet a very few Trees distant, you should find a dozen together under the same healthful _Sudor_. Where art imitates Nature well, Philosophers hold it a Perfection: Then what must she exact of us, where we find her transcendent in the Perfections of Nature?

The watry Arch is nothing less surprizing; where Art contending with Nature, acts against the Laws of Nature, and yet is beautiful. To see a Liquid Stream vaulting it self from the space of threescore Yards into a perfect Semi-Orb, will be granted by the Curious to be rare and strange: But sure to walk beneath that Arch, and see the Waters flowing over your Head, without your receiving the minutest Drop, is stranger, if not strange enough to stagger all Belief.

The Story of _Actæon_, pictur'd in Water Colours, if I may so express my self, tho' pretty, seem'd to me, but trifling to the other. Those seem'd to be like Nature miraculously displayed; this only Fable in Grotesque. The Figures indeed were not only fine, but extraordinary; yet their various Shapes were not at all so entertaining to the Mind, however refreshing they might be found to the Body.

I took notice before of the straitness of their Walks: But tho' to me it might seem a Diminution of their Beauty: I am apt to believe to the _Spaniard_, for and by whom they were laid out, it may seem otherwise. They, of both Sexes, give themselves so intolerably up to Amouring, that on that Account the Closeness of the Walks may be look'd upon as an Advantage rather than a Defect. The grand Avenue to the House is much more stately, and compos'd as they are, of Rows of Trees, somewhat larger than our largest Limes, whose Leaves are all of a perfect Pea bloom Colour, together with their Grandeur, they strike the Eye with a pleasing Beauty. At the Entrance of the Grand Court we see the Statue of _Philip_ the Second; to intimate to the Spectators, I suppose, that he was the Founder.

Among other Parks about _Aranjuez_ there is one intirely preserved for Dromedaries; an useful Creature for Fatigue, Burden, and Dispatch; but the nearest of kin to Deformity of any I ever saw. There are several other enclosures for several sorts of strange and wild Beasts, which are sometimes baited in a very large Pond, that was shown me about half a League from hence. This is no ordinary Diversion: but when the Court is disposed that way, the Beast, or Beasts, whether Bear, Lyon, or Tyger, are convey'd into a House prepar'd for that purpose; whence he can no other way issue than by a Door over the Water, through, or over, which forcing or flinging himself, he gradually finds himself descend into the very depth of the Pond by a wooden Declivity. The Dogs stand ready on the Banks, and so soon as ever they spye their Enemy, rush all at once into the Water, and engage him. A Diversion less to be complain'd of than their _Tauridores_; because attended with less Cruelty to the Beast, as well as Danger to the Spectators.

When we arrived at _Madrid_, a Town much spoken of by Natives, as well as Strangers, tho' I had seen it before, I could hardly restrain my self from being surprized to find it only environ'd with Mud Walls. It may very easily be imagin'd, they were never intended for Defence, and yet it was a long time before I could find any other use, or rather any use at all in 'em. And yet I was at last convinc'd of my Error by a sensible Increase of Expence. Without the Gates, to half a League without the Town, you have Wine for two Pence the Quart; but within the Place, you drink it little cheaper than you may in _London_. The Mud Walls therefore well enough answer their Intent of forcing People to reside there, under pretence of Security; but in reality to be tax'd, for other Things are taxable, as well as Wine, tho' not in like Proportion.

All Embassadors have a Claim or Privilege, of bringing in what Wine they please Tax-free; and the King, to wave it, will at any Time purchase that Exemption of Duty at the price of five hundred Pistoles _per Annum_. The Convents and Nunneries are allowed a like Licence of free Importation; and it is one of the first Advantages they can boast of; for, under that Licence having a liberty of setting up a Tavern near them, they make a prodigious Advantage of it. The Wine drank and sold in this Place, is for the most part a sort of white Wine.

But if the Mud Walls gave me at first but a faint Idea of the Place; I was pleasingly disappointed, as soon as I enter'd the Gates. The Town then show'd itself well built, and of Brick, and the Streets wide, long, and spacious. Those of _Atocha_, and _Alcala_, are as fine as any I ever saw; yet is it situated but very indifferently: For tho' they have what they call a River, to which they give the very fair Name of _la Mansuera_, and over which they have built a curious, long, and large Stone Bridge; yet is the Course of it, in Summer time especially, mostly dry. This gave occasion to that piece of Railery of a Foreign Embassador, _That the King would have don wisely to have bought a River, before he built the Bridge_. Nevertheless, that little Stream of a River which they boast of, they improve as much as possible; since down the Sides, as far as you can see, there are Coops, or little Places hooped in, for People to wash their Linen (for they very rarely wash in their own Houses) nor is it really an unpleasing Sight, to view the regular Rows of them at that cleanly Operation.

The King has here two Palaces; one within the Town, the other near adjoining. That in the Town is built of Stone, the other which is called _Bueno Retiro_, is all of Brick. From the Town to this last, in Summer time, there is a large covering of Canvas, propt up with tall Poles; under which People walk to avoid the scorching heats of the Sun.

As I was passing by the Chapel of the _Carmelites_, I saw several blind Men, some led, some groping the Way with their Sticks, going into the Chapel. I had the curiosity to know the Reason; I no sooner enter'd the Door, but was surprized to see such a number of those unfortunate People, all kneeling before the Altar, some kissing the Ground, others holding up their Heads, crying out _Misericordia_. I was informed 'twas Saint _Lucy's_ Day, the Patroness of the Blind; therefore all who were able, came upon that Day to pay their Devotion: So I left them, and directed my Course towards the King's Palace.

When I came to the outward Court, I met with a _Spanish_ Gentleman of my Acquaintance, and we went into the _Piazza's_; whilst we were talking there, I saw several Gentlemen passing by having Badges on their Breasts; some white, some red, and others green: My Friend informed me that there were five Orders of Knighthood in _Spain_. That of the Golden Fleece was only given to great Princes, but the other four to private Gentlemen, _viz_. That of _Saint Jago, Alacantara, Saint Salvador de Montreal_, and _Monteza_.

He likewise told me, that there were above ninety Places of Grandees, but never filled up; who have the Privilege of being cover'd in the Presence of the King, and are distinguished into three Ranks. The first is of those who cover themselves before they speak to the King. The second are those who put on their Hats after they have begun to speak. The third are those who only put on their Hats, having spoke to him. The Ladies of the Grandees have also great Respect show'd them. The Queen rises up when they enter the Chamber, and offers them Cushions.

No married Man except the King lies in the Palace, for all the Women who live there are Widows, or Maids of Honour to the Queen. I saw the Prince of _Asturia's_ Dinner carried through the Court up to him, being guarded by four Gentlemen of the Guards, one before, another behind, and one on each Side, with their Carbines shoulder'd; the Queen's came next, and the King's the last, guarded as before, for they always dine separately. I observed that the Gentlemen of the Guards, though not on Duty, yet they are obliged to wear their Carbine Belts.

_SAINT Isodore_, who from a poor labouring Man, by his Sanctity of Life arrived to the Title of _Saint_, is the Patron of _Madrid_, and has a Church dedicated to him, which is richly adorned within. The Sovereign Court of the Inquisition is held at _Madrid_, the President whereof is called the Inquisitor General. They judge without allowing any Appeal for four Sorts of Crimes, _viz_. Heresy, Polygamy, Sodomy and Witchcraft, and when any are convicted, 'tis called the Act of Faith.

Most People believe that the King's greatest Revenue consists in the Gold and Silver brought from the West Indies (which is a mistake) for most Part of that Wealth belongs to Merchants and others, that pay the Workmen at the Golden Mines of _Potosi_, and the Silver Mines at _Mexico_; yet the King, as I have been informed, receives about a Million and a half of Gold.

The _Spaniards_ have a Saying, that the finest Garden of Fruit in _Spain_ is in the middle of _Madrid_, which is the _Plaza_ or Market Place, and truly the Stalls there are set forth with such variety of delicious fruit, that I must confess I never saw any Place comparable to it; and which adds to my Admiration, there are no Gardens or Orchards of Fruit within some Leagues.

They seldom eat Hares in _Spain_ but whilst the Grapes are growing, and then they are so exceeding fat, they are knocked down with Sticks. Their Rabits are not so good as ours in _England_; they have great plenty of Patridges, which are larger and finer feather'd than ours. They have but little Beef in _Spain_, because there is no Grass, but they have plenty of Mutton, and exceeding good, because their Sheep feed only upon wild Potherbs; their Pork is delicious, their Hogs feeding only upon Chestnuts and Acorns.

_MADRID_ and _Valladolid_, though Great, yet are only accounted Villages: In the latter _Philip_ the Second, by the persuasion of _Parsons_ an _English_ Jesuit, erected an _English_ Seminary; and _Philip_ the Fourth built a most noble Palace, with extraordinary fine Gardens. They say that _Christopher Columbus_, who first discover'd the West Indies, dyed there, tho' I have heard he lies buried, and has a Monument at _Sevil_.

The Palace in the Town stands upon eleven Arches, under every one of which there are Shops, which degrade it to a meer Exchange. Nevertheless, the Stairs by which you ascend up to the Guard Room (which is very spacious too) are stately, large, and curious. So soon as you have pass'd the Guard Room, you enter into a long and noble Gallery, the right Hand whereof leads to the King's Apartment, the left to the Queen's. Entring into the King's Apartment you soon arrive at a large Room, where he keeps his _Levee_; on one side whereof (for it takes up the whole Side) is painted the fatal Battle of _Almanza_. I confess the View somewhat affected me, tho' so long after; and brought to Mind many old Passages. However, the Reflection concluded thus in favour of the _Spaniard_, that we ought to excuse their Vanity in so exposing under a _French_ General, a Victory, which was the only material one the _Spaniards_ could ever boast of over an _English_ Army.

In this State Room, when the King first appears, every Person present, receives him with a profound Homage: After which turning from the Company to a large Velvet Chair, by which stands the Father Confessor, he kneels down, and remains some Time at his Devotion; which being over, he rising crosses himself, and his Father Confessor having with the motion of his Hand intimated his Benediction, he then gives Audience to all that attend for that purpose. He receives every Body with a seeming Complaisance; and with an Air more resembling the French than the _Spanish_ Ceremony. Petitions to the King, as with us, are delivered into the Hands of the Secretary of State: Yet in one Particular they are, in my Opinion, worthy the Imitation of other Courts; the Petitioner is directly told, what Day he must come for an Answer to the Office; at which Time he is sure, without any further fruitless Attendance, not to fail of it. The Audience being over, the King returns through the Gallery to his own Apartment.

I cannot here omit an accidental Conversation, that pass'd between General _Mahoni_ and my self in this Place. After some talk of the Bravery of the _English_ Nation, he made mention of General _Stanhope_, with a very peculiar _Emphasis_.

"But," says he, "I never was so put to the Nonplus in all my Days, as that General once put me in. I was on the road from _Paris to Madrid_, and having notice, that that General was going just the Reverse, and that in all likelyhood we should meet the next day: Before my setting out in the Morning, I took care to order my gayest Regimental Apparel, resolving to make the best Appearance I could to receive so great a Man. I had not travell'd above four Hours before I saw two Gentlemen, who appearing to be _English_, it induc'd me to imagine they were Forerunners, and some of his Retinue. But how abash'd and confounded was I? when putting the Question to one of 'em, he made answer, _Sir, I am the Person_. Never did Moderation put Vanity more out of Countenance: Tho' to say Truth, I cou'd not but think his Dress as much too plain for General _Stanhope_, as I at that juncture thought my own too gay for _Mahoni_. But," added he, "that great Man had too many inward great Endowments to stand in need of any outside Decoration."

Of all Diversions the King takes most delight in that of Shooting, which he performs with great Exactness and Dexterity. I have seen him divert himself at Swallow shooting (by all, I think allow'd to be the most difficult) and exceeding all I ever saw. The last time I had the Honour to see him, was on his Return from that Exercise. He had been abroad with the Duke of _Medina Sidonia_, and alighted out of his Coach at a back Door of the Palace, with three or four Birds in his Hand, which according to his usual Custom, he carried up to the Queen with his own Hands.

There are two Play-houses in _Madrid_, at both which they act every Day; but their Actors, and their Music, are almost too indifferent to be mentioned. The Theatre at the _Bueno Retiro_ is much the best; but as much inferior to ours at _London_, as those at _Madrid_ are to that. I was at one Play, when both King and Queen were present. There was a splendid Audience, and a great Concourse of Ladies; but the latter, as is the Custom there, having Lattices before them, the Appearance lost most of its Lustre. One very remarkable Thing happen'd, while I was there; the _Ave-Bell_ rung in the Middle of an Act, when down on their Knees fell every Body, even the Players on the Stage, in the Middle of their Harangue. They remained for some Time at their Devotion; then up they rose, and returned to the Business they were before engag'd in, beginning where they left off.