Chapter VII (3)

The train leaves Cordova at six A.M., and we are delighted to be again on our journey. The route proves of little interest between Cordova and Seville; the Guadalquivir is first on one side of us and then on the other; the hills and mountains bound each side of the plain, where are olive groves, and peaceful flocks, and ploughmen, as if no revolution were occurring around them. At Almovar, (situated on a high hill,) we see the ruins of a Moorish castle where that half-Moor, Peter the Cruel, confined his sister-in-law, Doña Juana de Lara. Carmona is another town which has the same celebrity. Here he imprisoned many of his female favorites when tired of them. We grow very hungry in spite of these tragic histories, and our young gentleman buys a great melon _de Castile_, which, proving very delicious, we make a good breakfast _à l'espagnol;_ but are not sorry to see the towers of the Giralda, and soon after we enter Seville--the most charming of all Spanish towns; the city of Don Juan and Figaro; the gayest, the most celebrated for its beautiful women, its graceful men, its bull-fights, its gypsies, its tertulias, its fandangos, its cachuchas, its Murillos, its cathedral, (said to rival St. Peter's,) and its Alcazar, which is almost as wonderful as the Alhambra.

After dinner, we hasten to the cathedral through busy, crowded streets, by handsome shops; passing occasionally a pretty Sevillian whose black dress, bare arms and neck seen through the black lace mantilla, with the dainty pink rose peeping from beneath it, harmonize exactly with one's idea of the Spanish woman. And presently, upon a terrace ascended by several steps, we see before us this wonderful pile of buildings: the Giralda (Moorish tower) on one side; the Sagrario (the parish church) on the other; the chapter house, and offices facing the cathedral; and in the centre of all these the court of oranges! The cathedral is entered from this court by nine doors. We scarcely know how to describe this magnificent gothic building, which has affected us more than any we have ever seen. Coming upon us so immediately after the mosque of Cordova, (each of these a perfect specimen of its kind,) one sees in each the reflection of the different faiths they represent. The graceful, elegant mosque seems to appeal more to the senses, to speak of a faith which promises material joys, while the grand and majestic gothic cathedral carries one's heart to the heaven in which these lofty arches seem to be lost. In despair of being able to do justice to so high a theme, I must borrow from O'Shea's guide-book the following description of this building:

"The general style of the edifice is gothic of the best period
of Spain, and though many of its parts belong to different
styles, these form but accessory parts, and the main body
remains strictly gothic. Indeed all the fine arts, and each in
turn, at their acme of strength, have combined to produce their
finest inspiration here.
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The Moorish Giralda, the Gothic cathedral, the Greco-Roman
exterior, produce variety, and repose the eye. Inside, its
numerous paintings are by some of the greatest painters that
ever breathed; the stained glass, amongst the finest known; the
sculpture, beautiful; the jewellers' and silversmiths' work
unrivalled in composition, execution, and value. The cathedral
of Leon charms us by the chaste elegance of its airy structure,
the purity of its harmonious lines; the fairy-worked cimborio
of that at Burgos, its filagree spires, and pomp of
ornamentation are certainly more striking; and at Toledo, we
feel already humbled and crushed beneath the majesty and wealth
displayed everywhere. But when we enter the cathedral of
Seville, there is a sublimity in these sombre masses and
clusters of spires whose proportions and details are somewhat
lost and concealed in the mysterious shadows which pervade the
whole, a grandeur which quickens the sense, and makes the heart
throb within us, and we stand as lost among these lofty naves
and countless gilt altars, shining dimly in the dark around us,
the lights playing across them as the rays of the glorious
Spanish sun stream through the painted windows. Vast
proportions, unity of design, severity and sobriety of
ornament, and that simplicity unalloyed by monotony which
stamps all the works of real genius, render this one of the
noblest piles ever raised to God by man, and preferred by many
even to St. Peter's at Rome."

It is said that the canons and chapter resolved to make this church the wonder of the world; and with this view, sent for the most celebrated architects and artists of the world to adorn it, denying themselves almost the necessaries of life to accomplish the great work.

The pillars are one hundred and fifty feet high; the church, four hundred feet long, two hundred and ninety-one wide, with ninety-five windows and thirty-seven chapels; and nearly each one of these contains some pictures of Murillo, Cespedes, Campana, Roelas, or some Spanish painter of celebrity. We go from chapel to chapel, gazing upon these, lingering before the altar "Del Angel de la Guarda," where is Murillo's exquisite picture of the guardian angel with the young child by the hand (so often reproduced,) and lost in awe before his grand picture of St. Anthony of Padua, to whom the infant Jesus descends, amidst angels and flowers and sunbeams, into the arms ecstatically extended toward him. In a little chapel we come upon a lovely Virgin and Child, by Alonso Caño, called N. S. de Belem, (Bethlehem.)

But the sun declined, and we ascended the Giralda to see his last beams shine upon so much beauty. What a strange and charming scene! The forest of white houses painted with delicate blue and green; the flat roofs decorated with gardens; the four hundred and seventy-seven narrow streets, some hardly admitting two people abreast, through which toiled the patient mules bearing burdens of stones, mortar for building, wood, and vegetables; the one hundred ornamented squares and promenades; the orange gardens; the plaza de Toros; the cathedral just beneath us, with its hundreds of turrets; the Torre del Oro, (Tower of Gold,) so named from its yellow hue; the Lonja, (Exchange,) with its pink color; the grey Alcazar; the palace San Telmo by the Guadalquivir, which winds through the city and over the plain; and convents, and churches, and palaces; and, beyond all, the verdant plains and the blue mountains! As the sun sank, the convent bells rang the "Ave Maria."

"Blessed be the hour!
The time, the chime, the spot."

Certainly we all "felt that moment in its fullest power"!

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Thursday, 24. Our first visit to-day is to San Telmo--the royal palace given by Queen Isabella to her sister, the Duchess de Montpensier--on the banks of the Guadalquivir, with enchanting gardens, palms and citrons, and orange-trees; and within, all oriental in its style and decorations. Here are some lovely pictures--one of Murillo's most beautiful Virgins, several splendid Zurbarans, a Sebastian del Piombo, Holy Family, etc.

Next we visit the great tobacco manufactory, where 4000 women are employed making cigars. As all these were talking at once, we were glad soon to escape. And then the Alcazar, the wonderful Moorish palace, than which not even the Alhambra can be more beautiful--as it seems to us. We wander in delicious gardens --like those described in the _Arabian Nights_--and then enter the enchanted palace! Passing several courts, we find the great door of entrance sculptured and painted in arabesque. Here is a long hall, with exquisitely carved and painted roof, from which we pass into a square marble court, or patio, with double rows of marble columns and a fountain in the centre. From the four sides of this patio you enter by immense doors, carved and inlaid, into the apartments beyond. First, the Hall of the Ambassadors, which communicates with others through elegant arches profusely ornamented, supported by marble pillars of every color with gilded capitals. The walls and dome are ornamented with sentences from the Koran, in gilt letters upon grounds of blue and crimson. Every chamber has different decorations, all equally elegant.

Below, opening from the garden, we are shown some subterranean cells said to have been the prisons of Christian captives, and above these the luxurious baths of Maria de Padilla--the famous mistress of Peter the Cruel. It was the custom for the king and courtiers to sit by and see her bathe, and for the latter to pretend to sip the water of the bath. Seeing one of these fail in this gallant duty one day, the king asked why he omitted it. "Because, sire," (said the witty courtier,) "I am afraid to like the sauce so well that I shall covet the bird." Peter the Cruel lived much in this palace, and did much to embellish it through the Moorish artists whom he employed. Many of the Spanish kings lived there, and Charles V. was married in one of the upper rooms. These we did not see, and learned afterward that they were inhabited by "Fernan Caballero," one of the most popular writers of Spain--whose delightful books we learned later to admire. Fernan Caballero is the _nom de plume_ of this lady, who has had many misfortunes, and who by permission of the queen lives in the Alcazar, devoting her life to deeds of benevolence amongst the poor, whose traits and trials she records in many delightful works. It is a pity that out of France these books should be unknown. One of our party determines to take some of them to America, that they may be translated and bring to the knowledge of our people these charming scenes of Spanish home life so inimitably described.[Footnote 79]

[Footnote 79: One of "Fernan Caballero's" (Mrs. Fabre) books,
_The Alvareda Family_, has already been translated here
and published in _The Catholic World_ three years ago;
and two others, _The Sea Gull_, and _The Castle and
Cottage in Spain_, have appeared in an English dress in
London, and _Lucia Garcia_ is already translated and
will soon appear in this magazine.--ED. CATH. W.]

In the evening we go to a ball, to see the Andalusian dances in their proper costume. Boleros, and cachuchas, and seguidillas, and manchegas! Such graceful movements, such little feet in such dainty satin shoes!

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Generally to the accompaniment of the guitar, with most peculiar and monotonous music, singing at the same time, clapping the hands, stamping the feet, and the dancer always with castanets. All the dances were peculiar, solos, often in couples, or three at a time, some of these coquettish--one, especially, danced by a man and a woman, he in hat and cloak, she with fan and mantilla. How she wielded this little "weapon"!--now hiding her face, now peeping from behind it, which he also did with his _manta_. By and by he takes off his hat and humbly lays it at her feet. She dances over it scornfully; without ever losing the step, he recovers it. She flies; he pursues, opening his manta entreatingly; she relents; again he throws down the hat; she stoops and gives it to him, and eventually they dance away with the manta covering both.

Friday, 25.

We go again to the wonderful cathedral; examined many pictures which yesterday escaped us. In the chapter house is one of Murillo's "Conceptions," and eight charming heads (ovals) painted by him, in the same room. In the chapel of the kings lies the body of St. Ferdinand, and of Murillo; who asked to be buried at the foot of a picture (The Descent from the Cross) of which he was particularly fond, which is above the main altar.

Near the great entrance of the cathedral a stone in the pavement marks the spot where lies Fernando, the son of Christopher Columbus, with the motto upon it, "A Castilla y á Leon, mundo nuevo dió Colon." From his tomb we go to the great Columbine Library given by him to his country, containing some interesting MSS. of his father--one, a book of quotations containing extracts from the psalms and prophets, proving the existence of the new world. There are a series of portraits round the room, of Columbus, his son, St. Ferdinand, Cardinal Mendoza, and Cardinal Wiseman, (who was a native of Seville.) There is also preserved here the great two-edged sword of Ferdinand Gonsalves.

Some of our party go to visit the archbishop, in the hope to get permission to see the treasures of the church, which are very valuable; but the presence of the revolution obliges him to deny us this as well as the _entrée_ to the convent of St. Theresa, which is said to be exactly the same as when she founded it. It was here she underwent such great trouble and persecution, and where (finding she had but two or three coppers with which to begin a great foundation) she said to her nuns, "Never mind, two cents and Theresa are nothing; but two cents and God are everything."

And this interesting convent we could not see.[Footnote 80] Indeed, the time of our visit to Spain was inopportune for seeing the inside of religious houses. A former revolution having deprived them of their property, they have now the fear of being turned out of their convents.

[Footnote 80: For a full description of this convent see Lady
Herbert's _Impressions of Spain_, just from the press of
the Catholic Publication Society. This work also contains
illustrations of cathedrals, churches, gardens, palaces, and
other places described in these letters.--ED. CATH. W.]

While we wait in the church for the return of our friends, we enter into conversation with two of the little boys of the choir, whose beauty attracts us, begging them to describe the style in which they dance before the Blessed Sacrament on Corpus Christi, which is said to be a ceremony most solemn, grave, and impressive. These children evinced great curiosity about us, and when told that one of the party was "a convert," (had been a Protestant,) could not be made to comprehend what it meant; for they confound all Protestants with unbelievers. {347} "And did not know about our dear Lord!" said one little fellow with a look of sorrowful compassion, reminding one of the scene in one of Fernan Caballero's tales (_The Alvareda Family_) where the hero comes home from his travels and describes a country covered with snow so that people are sometimes buried under it.

We go to see the house in which Murillo lived and the spot where he was first buried--passing the house in which Cardinal Wiseman was born, upon which is a large tablet with a beautiful and appropriate inscription. In Murillo's house is an extensive gallery with many of his loveliest pictures, and some of the pictures of monks for which Zurbaran is so famous.

Here we see the Infant St. John with the Lamb, and the Infant Saviour, so often repeated by Murillo, apart and together an exquisite Ecce Homo; several Madonnas, and Saints.

On our way we are shown the shop where dwelt the original Figaro, and also the house of Don Juan!

The Casa de Pilatos, one of the residences of the Duke of Medina Coeli, next claims us--a curious old palace, built in the sixteenth century in imitation of Pilate's House in Jerusalem, which was visited at that time by the founder. The patio is fine, with a beautiful fountain, and double row of columns, (one above another,) with statues at the four corners. The marble staircase and halls--lined with azulejos, (colored porcelain tiles,) universally used in this country--are particularly handsome.

Next we go to the "Caridad," one of the most celebrated hospitals in the world, founded by a young nobleman of Seville in the seventeenth century, upon ground which belonged to a brotherhood whose duty it was to give consolation to those about to die on the scaffold. This young man (Don Miguel de Mañara) was distinguished for his profligacy, but also for his bravery, generosity, and his patronage of art. One of our friends told us some most interesting anecdotes connected with his conversion.

Returning from some orgies, one night, he saw a female figure upon a low balcony beckon him. Thinking to have an adventure, he sprang into the open window and found a dead body with a with lights about it alone in the room. Another time, returning at midnight through the streets, he saw a church lighted, and, wondering what could be going on at such an hour, entered. Before the altar was a bier upon which was extended a body covered with the mantle of the knights of the order to which he belonged, the priests about it singing the office for the dead. Asking whose funeral it was, he was answered, "That of Don Miguel Mañara," and going to the corpse and uncovering it, saw his own face. The morning found him stretched upon the pavement, the vision gone. But the impression remained, in which he recognized a call from God to a better life, which he soon after entered, giving his whole fortune to found this institution for the sick, the aged, and "incurables;" and here he lived and died an example of humility, piety, and penitence. Murillo and other eminent artists were also members of this confraternity, and a letter of the former is here shown in which he asks permission to join the brotherhood. To the friendship of Don Miguel for Murillo the hospital is indebted for some of the finest pictures in the world. In the church are two of his grandest and largest pictures, "Moses striking the Rock," called here the "Sed," (thirst,) and the "Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes," a Visitation, an Infant Saviour, and a St. John. {348} There are also several most remarkable pictures by Valdes Leal; one, "The Triumph of Time," in which the skeleton Death stands triumphantly above crowns and sceptres and "all there is of glory." Opposite to this is "The Dead Prelate," a picture made at the suggestion of Mañara. From the top of the picture a _pierced hand_ holds the scales, in one side of which a kingly crown, and jewels, and sceptre, weigh against the mystic "I. H. S." and a book, the Word of God. Below lies a dead prelate, in mitre and crosier, half eaten by the worms; on the other side, Don Miguel Mañara, wrapped in his knightly mantle, upon which also the worms run riot. On one of the scales is written "nor more;" upon the other, "nor less."

Murillo told the painter that he could never pass this picture without involuntarily "holding his nose." Under the pavement, near the door, lies the body of the founder; "the ashes of the worst man that ever lived," so he styles himself in his epitaph; and he requested that he might lie where the feet of every passer should walk over him. The sisters conduct us over the clean and airy wards. On the wall of the patio are these words, from the pen of Mañara himself, "This house will last as long as God shall be feared in it, and Jesus Christ be served in the persons of his poor. Whoever enters here must leave at the door both avarice and pride." And over his own cell is inscribed, "What is it we mean when we speak of death? It is being free from the body of sin, and from the yoke of our passions. Therefore, to live is a bitter death, and to die is a sweet life."

Another of the charming histories told us by the same lady was of St. Maria Coronel, whose body is preserved in the convent of St. Inez, which we could not be permitted to see. Peter the Cruel, because enamored of her great beauty, condemned her husband to death, but offered to save him if she would yield to his wishes. The husband was actually executed, and Maria fled to this convent, where the king pursued her. One night he entered her cell; and, seeing no other way to escape him, she seized the burning lamp, and emptied its boiling contents over her face. The poor lady lived the life of a saint, and died in this convent. Her body is as fresh as if she had died yesterday, and the marks of the oil upon her face as clearly visible as upon the day when the heroic deed was committed.

In the evening we walk in the crowded streets, and find splendid shops filled with lovely women, who go at this hour to walk or shop, never stirring out in the day. As late as eleven, when we came in, the streets and shops were yet filled with ladies.

Saturday, 26.

We spend the morning in the gallery, which is considered the finest in Spain, after that of Madrid. This is especially rich in Murillos, and has several Zurbarans, the Spanish Caravaggio so famous for his pictures of monks. Here is "The Apotheosis of St. Thomas Aquinas," considered his masterpiece; and of Murillo there are about twenty-four of his greatest pictures: the "St. Thomas of Villanuova giving Alms," which was the painter's own favorite; the "St. Anthony of Padua kneeling before the Infant Saviour," who stands upon his book--the most perfect type of a child God; and the ecstasy, the fervor, the humility, in the pale, attenuated face of the monk brings the tears to one's eyes, you so feel with him. {349} Next this is a picture preferred to the other by most persons, "St. Felix of Cantalicia," with the infant Saviour in his arms, the blessed Mother leaning forward to receive him. The beauty of the Virgin Mother and the grace of her attitude is said by critics to be beyond all praise. Then comes a beautiful "Annunciation," a "St. Joseph with the child Jesus," "Saints Rufina and Justina," (the patrons of Seville,) "Saints Leandro and Buonaventura," several "Conceptions," and the exquisite "Virgin de la Sevilleta," (Virgin of the Napkin,) said to have been painted on a dinner napkin, and given as a present to the cook of the convent where Murillo worked. The "St. John Baptist in the Desert" should also be mentioned, as well as many others.

This evening we bid farewell to beautiful Seville, with all its delights, and set out for Cadiz.

Certainly it is the Spaniards, not the French, who are "the politest people in the world." The conductor opens the railway carriage with "Good evening, ladies. May I trouble you for your tickets?" concluding with "A happy night to you." In passing a street, the other day, a gentleman with whom we had crossed the mountains, and whose name we do not even know, rushes from his house to say, "Ladies, is anything wanting? Here is your house." Such is the pretty exaggerated Spanish phrase. Leaving Seville, we pass orange-groves and fields divided by aloe and cactus hedges, but the country is flat and uninteresting; and, except Lebrija, which has a tower, the rival of the Giralda, and Jerez, we see no towns of any size or interest till we near Cadiz. "Jerez de la Frontera" (the frontier town) has always been of importance; one of the earliest Phoenician colonies. Close to this took place the battle of the Guadelete, which opened Spain to the Moors. St. Ferdinand recovered it in 1251; but it was retaken, and again recovered by his son, Alonzo the Learned, in 1264, who granted to it many important privileges, peopling it with forty of his hidalgos--the source of the present Jerez nobility. It has an Alcazar of great interest--its Alameda--some fine old churches, and near it are the ruins of a fine old Carthusian convent upon the Guadelete, which the Moors called the River of Delight. Jerez is now celebrated for its wines; the sherry so prized in England and America, which occupies palaces rather than wine-cellars. These are called "bodegas," and sometimes hold ten thousand casks. As we near Cadiz we see Puerta San Maria, at the mouth of the Guadelete--a pretty town, looking upon the sea, with a suspension bridge looking most picturesque in the moonlight; then Puerto Real, San Fernando, Cadiz.

Cadiz, Fonda De Paris.
Sunday, 27.

The guide takes us first to hear high mass in the new cathedral--a handsome building, entirely of white marble, within and without. Some good pictures, (copies of Murillo,) fine music, and the most devout of congregations. The loveliest of women, in modest black dresses, mantillas, and fans, sat or knelt upon the matting, which is spread upon the space between the high altar and the choir. No seats are provided. A few bring little black camp-stools. The bishop (who gave the benediction) is a most dignified and elegant-looking person; and the guide tells us he is much beloved and respected. Already the new order of things pulls down churches and banishes the Jesuits, as the first proof of that "liberty of worship" which is one of the most popular of the war cries. {350} Such bandit-looking fellows as we saw yesterday! Catalan soldiers, in red cap, short pantaloons with red stripe, half-gaiters, and a red blanket on the left shoulder, a leathern belt, with pistols and a great rifle.

The revolution spreads everywhere, "peacefully," as they say. We see a handbill posted, in which the queen is spoken of as "_Doña_ Isabella of Bourbon," to whom they wish "no harm."

Some Spanish ladies who had once lived in America, and are friends of ours, came to visit us. They are intensely loyal, as are all the women of Spain whom we encounter. From these we learn that, as in all revolutions, the dregs of the people come to the top, and are most conspicuous. It is only they make it who have nothing to lose, and all to gain. These "juntas," who now rule in each city under the provisional government, are composed of people of low birth and bad morals. Here they are taken from the low trades-people, who are noted drunkards and unbelievers. Into such hands are committed the destinies of this lovely city. Their first work has been to try and kill the Jesuits, who, with a hundred little boys under their care, had to defend themselves from these men and the rabble they encourage. And but for the officers of the fleet, who, with pistols in hand, thrust themselves between them, they must have been murdered. These officers took them on board the ships for safety, and some are yet secreted in the town, waiting an opportunity to escape. To-day our guide takes us to several curious old churches which were formerly convents, with pretty cloisters and marble courts. These, he says, are doomed by the junta to be torn down to build houses and theatres, thus destroying these beautiful old monuments of a past time in their blind fury against religion.

In the evening we change our hotel to the "Fonda de Cadiz," on the gay "plaza San Antonio." After dinner walk by the seashore on the walls. As we pass the streets, we enter several churches, where the people are hearing sermons, or saying prayers with the priests. Such picturesque groups!

To-night we see from our windows a procession carrying the Blessed Sacrament to the sick, from the parish church opposite. A carriage is always sent, and a long procession, bearing lights, precedes and follows. One of the ladies present tells us that last carnival, in the midst of the gayeties on this square, men and women, in every variety of ridiculous costume, were dancing to merry music, when suddenly the bell was heard preceding the Blessed Sacrament, which was being carried to a sick officer, living upon the square. In an instant every knee was bent of the motley throng, and the band struck up the Royal March in the most effective manner, and accompanied the procession to the house; returning, the fun recommenced. This lady says there was never anything witnessed more affecting. "And," added she, "this is the faith these revolutionists would take from us. Already they talk of introducing every religion, and they will build a mosque and a synagogue!"

Monday, 28. The morning is given to shopping, to see the lovely mantillas of every shape and style; fans of wonderful workmanship and exquisite painting on kid or silk; the beautiful figures in every variety of Spanish costumes, made in Malaga, of a particular kind of clay for which Spain is famous; the pretty mattings of Cadiz, etc. {351} In the evening we walk with our friends upon the "Alameda," a charming promenade by the seaside, where stately palm-trees wave above marble seats and columns. Entering the church of Mount Carmel we find it filled with people saying prayers and the rosary. To-night we are kept awake by the mob, who are marching with drums and ringing the church bells in honor of a victory over the queen's troops near Cordova.

Tuesday, 29. At eight o'clock we set out upon an excursion to Jerez, to visit the bodegas and taste the fine wines. Passing the salt-meadows we see the white pyramids of salt glistening in the sunlight, which had so puzzled us when we last saw them by moonlight. The bay of Cadiz is on one side, the broad ocean on the other, in the distance the mountains of the Sierra del Pinal. A friend joins us at Puerta Real, and takes us to one of the largest bodegas in Jerez, where are 10,000 casks of wine--each cask valued at $500! The proprietor (a gentleman of English or Irish descent) is most kind, shows us this extraordinary place, and gives us to taste of the finest wines--brown sherry and pale sherry, fifty years of age. But the most delicious of all are the sweet wines--which are also sherries--and are called "Pedro Ximenes" from the name of the person who first introduced this grape. These wines are rich and oily, (perfect "nectar,") and are made from the grape when almost as dry as raisins--twelve days from off the vine. In the midst of these oceans of fine wines, Mr. Graves (the proprietor) tells us he rarely tastes them, only occasionally taking a glass of the sweet wine.

Jerez is said to be the richest town in Spain, the richest of its size in the world. Beautiful plazas planted with palms, and fine old palaces. We visited an ornamental garden belonging to one of these wine princes, where were lakes, and streams, and grottoes, and bridges, and groves, and flowers of every variety, birds and fowls, and model cattle, etc. And then we saw San Miguel, one of the finest churches we have seen, (gothic interior,) of the fifteenth century, (1432,) elegantly ornamented. There is also a cathedral and another most interesting church, (St. Dionisius,) built by Alonzo the Learned in the thirteenth century, said to be a particularly fine specimen of the gothic moresque of that period. After a fine breakfast of the delicious Spanish ham, chocolate, cakes, and sherry, we return to Cadiz. Passing "Puerta San Maria," we see the Jesuit college, from which they have just been ejected, the broken trees, the trampled gardens telling their own story of violence. One of the gentlemen in the train tells us there were two hundred and fifty boys cared for here, and that the Jesuits fed five hundred poor each day with soup from the leavings of the table. The great building looked a picture of desolation.

To-night we have another ringing of bells and marching to the sound of the odious revolutionary hymn. One of the gentlemen of our party goes out to hear the speeches in the square. Some of the speakers propose to offer the crown to the father of the King of Portugal, (of the Catholic branch of that lucky _Coburg_ family who, possessing nothing, gain everything by marriage,) others are for the Duke of Montpensier. Some cry "Vive Napoleon." In fact, they are in great embarrassment--have caught the elephant and do not know what to do with him, like another nation we know of.

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Wednesday, 30.

To-day we hear that all Catalonia has "pronounced," and even Madrid, and that the rejoicings of last night were for the victory of "Alcolea," just won, over the queen's troops, in which, however, the liberals have lost three thousand men. These troops were commanded by Serrano, (Duke de Torres,) who owes everything to the queen's favor; and on the queen's side by the Marquis de Novaliches, "faithful found amongst the faithless." We hear of one of her officers (the young Count de Cheste) who has shut himself with his men in the fortress of Montjuich, at Barcelona, resolving to die rather than submit. One must admire such devotion, in whatever cause it is shown. "Loyalty! the most pure and beautiful feeling of the human breast. It is a love which exists without requiring the usual nourishment of return; a feeling void of every shade of egotism; that desires and requires nothing but the happiness of loving, that causes one joyfully to sacrifice life and property for the exalted object whose voice, perhaps, never reached his ear. This feeling, in its highest purity, is the very triumph of human capacity." Such is the true definition of "Loyalty," which, like "Liberty," is often profaned and constantly misunderstood. With our pretty Spanish friends we go to see a church called the "Cave," a church only for gentlemen, where they may go privately to their confession and devotions. The confessionals are unlike those used for women, for the men go in front and kneel face to face with the priest. It is a beautiful chapel, wonderfully rich in marbles and fine vestments and bassi-relievi, and below it is a gloomy chapel from whence the church derives its name. Over the altar is represented the crucifixion. It is dimly lighted through a dome, and the figures (large as life) seem to live. Here the men go for meditation, and for the Good Friday and other solemn festivals. At one end of the chapel is a carved chair, raised on a platform, upon which the priest sits to give his instructions, while a lamp is so arranged that the light falls only upon the speaker's face, leaving the rest of the chapel in darkness. The young priest who showed us the church had the face of an angel, so fair and young and holy; or, rather, such a face as is represented in a picture of St. Aloysius Gonzaga, the patron of youth.

As we wander from shop to shop one of our pretty friends meets one of the beaux of Cadiz, whose "loyalty" she suspects and whom she berates most violently for deserting his queen in her need, and helping to embarrass his country. The pretty way with which she shakes her fan at him, and gesticulates with her hands, the expressive eyes and play of feature, is altogether charming and _Andalusian_.

Late this evening, we hear particulars of the late battle. Novaliches fought against fearful odds--three thousand men to sixteen thousand. He was severely if not mortally wounded, and was carried off by his men to Portugal, the only way of retreat open to them. This defeat, we suppose, will put an end to the war.

Thursday, Oct. 1.

This is the feast of the Guardian Angel of Spain, so we hear mass where the devotion of the forty hours begins. As in Italy, two by two, kneeling and holding lights, the men of the congregation keep watch before the Blessed Sacrament during these forty hours, while hundreds of adorers continually coming and going attest the devotion of this pious people. {353} The Church of the Guardian Angel is near that belonging to the military hospital; and on the opposite side of the square is an asylum for widows, founded many years ago by a converted Moor--a most interesting institution. Widows of all ranks and conditions find shelter here when their necessities require it. Each one has her own chamber and sitting-room, and each one her little cooking apparatus separate. The court with its open corridors on every story, its pretty flowers, its fine promenade on the roof, makes it a very inviting abode; and, with the usual Spanish courtesy, the old widow who showed us about (the widow of an officer, who had been there these forty years) placed it at our "disposition." These poor women go out to walk, and to church when they wish, though there is also a chapel in the house.

We go next to see the "Albergo dei Poveri," a magnificent charity, founded and endowed by one man in memory of his mother, and dedicated to St. Helena. Here five hundred children of both sexes are taught weaving, sewing, washing, shoemaking, etc., and there is also an asylum for five hundred old men and old women. The school-rooms and dormitories are large and airy; the marble courts, where the children play, and the sewing-room, where a hundred girls sat at work, looked out upon the sea, and were deliciously cool and comfortable. The school-rooms were decorated with pictures of Bible history, and seemed to have all the modern inventions which make easy the way to learning. The sister told us how much they had been disturbed by this revolutionary movement. Her little orphan boys (who had been taught music with the view to enter the army as musicians) had been carried off at night to play the revolutionary hymn, kept out marching over the town till two o'clock in the morning, and then sent home foot-sore and with aching heads.

The most interesting thing of all was to see the old men at dinner--that helpless thing, an old man. Placed by the nice table, a man with snow-white apron served the soup, a sister gave round the meat, and then came a pudding. The bread was as white as is all the bread of Spain, (even the poorest people have bread of this very white flour,) and there seemed about a hundred of these men over sixty years of age. The rain drives us home, but by and by we go out again to buy some of the boots and shoes of Cadiz, which are the prettiest in the world and cover the prettiest of feet.

Feast Of The Guardian Angels.

Friday, Oct. 2.

We go to the lovely church of the Rosary for high mass. The decorations are very tasteful and beautiful, and hundreds of men and women, in their grave black garments, assist most devoutly; the men have benches on each side, the women sit or kneel upon a bit of matting before the altar.

From this we go to the "Capuchinos," where we see three of Murillo's finest pictures, the "Marriage of St. Catherine," over the altar, which he left unfinished and which is surrounded, in five compartments, by five pictures of Zurbaran, almost equal to the centre piece. There is here another "Conception," and that picture of pictures, "St. Francis receiving the Stigmata," which is certainly the most extraordinary of all the works of this great master. The face of the saint seems to come entirely out of its dark surroundings, and so do the wonderful hands. These all look like the living flesh, and move us as if they were so.

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This Capuchin convent, which Murillo loved to adorn, and in painting for which he lost his life, is now a hospital for lunatics--the monks all gone; the present Bishop of Cadiz was one [of] them. And to show the devotion of the common people to Murillo, they will not allow the bishop to move this picture of St. Francis to an opposite altar, where it would be in a better light and preserved from the smoke of the altar candles. "No; the place for which Murillo painted it must be the best place, and there it shall stay." In a chapel near by is a lovely picture of "Our Lady of the Rosary," which must be a copy of the one in the gallery of Madrid so celebrated. In this chapel and everywhere here we see statues or pictures of the "Martyrs of Cadiz," (Servando and Germano,) two young Roman soldiers who, becoming converts, died for the faith on a spot near the present city gates. It is said that on the occasion of the terrible earthquake which occurred here November 1st, 1755, when the sea rose and threatened to devour the city, two young men in strange garments appeared on the spot of their martyrdom and were seen by hundreds of the inhabitants to stay the waves, speaking to the people and bidding them pray to God. On another side of the city the Dominican priests bore the favorite statue of "Our Lady of the Rosary," with many prayers, to the waters' brink, and "the waves receded and there was a great calm."

On the third side, where Cadiz is most exposed to the sea, is a little church in which the priest was saying mass on the eventful morning. 'The people ran to him saying, "Behold! the sea is at the very door." He made haste to consume the consecrated Host, then seizing the crucifix and the banner of "Our Lady of Mercy," went out upon the door-step where the waves already licked his feet: "My Mother, let them not come further"--and they did not!

What is so remarkable in the accounts of this earthquake is, that there had been no storm to precede it, but on a soft sunshiny day came this terrible convulsion of the elements. We went to see this church, where is yet shown the crucifix and the banner which played so important a part on this occasion; and see the point to which the water rose, and an inscription on the wall of a house recording the event exactly as here related. Next we visit the church of San Lorenzo, and afterward that of the Scalzi, (barefoot friars,) where to-day was said the "last mass;" the "junta" having decreed that it be torn down to build a theatre. The work of destruction had already commenced. How the strong old walls resisted! A dozen carpenters were taking down the gilded altars and curiously carved "retablos," which, belonging to the days when Spain had her argosies from the new world laden with gold, were made to resist "all time." Four men with iron crowbars were striving to dislodge an angel suspended over an altar, which positively refused to come down; while below him, on the floor, stood saints and martyrs covered with dust and _débris_, hastily dislodged from the pedestals on which they had rested for centuries--a rueful group! No wonder the women wept, and eyed resentfully the malicious-looking revolutionists employed to order the work; while armed soldiers, with the hateful red ribbon on the arm, (the revolutionary mark,) kept off the populace, who strove to get in at the doors, by the market, to bid farewell to these ancient altars. {355} It had been the church of the market people, the cradle of some of popular saints, the scene of the "first communion," the "nuptial mass," the baptism of their children, the funeral mass for their dead. Great is the clamor outside! Old people kiss the walls, and the young gather bits of the broken altars, while sorrowful-looking priests are permitted to carry away the mutilated statues and gildings.

The convent of the Good Shepherd, opening into the church, is also to be torn down, and its unhappy inmates driven elsewhere to seek shelter. They are putting into the _same convent_ these, with Carmelites, Ursulines, and others; crowding together those who teach with those who save the Magdalens in strange and painful confusion. Such are some of the fruits of revolution! And this is the "liberty" which England and America seek for the Spaniard!

To-night we hear that the Marquis de Novaliches has died of lockjaw, his face having been dreadfully wounded by a ball. The Conte de la Cheste, who held Monjuich at Barcelona, has gone to join the queen, abandoning his "forlorn hope" at her request.

Saturday, October 3.

To-day we hear the high mass in the cathedral, and go to see the jewels in the sacristia. They have a remarkable "custodia," (the gift of an ancestor of the Calderon de la Barca,) set in pearls and emeralds of immense value; a superbly chased crucifix, the gift of Alonzo the Learned; a small but exquisitely worked tabernacle of gold with beautiful amethysts forming a cross, given by the same king. After the mass we go to buy some of the famous Cadiz gloves, and then drive on the ramparts to see the fine sea view. In the evening, to the church of the Carmel. As it is the eve of the feast of "Our Lady of the Rosary," the church of the Rosary is illuminated, and most of the houses throughout the city.

Sunday, Oct. 4.

In the church of the Rosary is a beautiful ceremony. The music is lovely; the wind instruments, in certain parts of the mass, most effective, and the whole one of the most solemn services at which we have assisted.

The sermon is delivered with such grace and unction that we could but realize the truth of that saying of Charles V., that Spanish is the language in which to speak to God! So grand, so sonorous! And there is something in the grave dignity of the Spanish priest which makes him seem the perfection of ecclesiastical character. We are all struck with the decorum of the people in the churches, the quiet and devotion; none of the running in and out and the familiarity with holy things which in Italy makes one see that the people regard the church as their father's house, in which they take liberties. Here, it is alone the house of God, as is seen in the reverential manner and careful costume. All wear black, and not even is a lace mantilla usual, but the Spanish mantilla of modest silk. The men are alike reverential, and nowhere have we seen so many men in church, particularly at night.

To-day we hear the good news that the government of the city is taken from the hands of the junta and given into the care of the former military governor of Cadiz, in conjunction with the admiral of the fleet. This is received with great favor by the people of moderate opinion of both sides, as putting a stop to extreme measures. They have countermanded the destruction of the two old churches, the Franciscan and the Scalzi; of the last-named they tell a most extraordinary story to-day. {356} Yesterday the destroyers had knocked down a portion of the thick old wall. This morning it was found rebuilt as if by invisible hands, with the same heavy masonry, as strong as before, and even the white plaster upon the outside dry and barely to be distinguished from the rest of the building. Everybody runs to look at it. The people cry "a miracle," and say that the Blessed Virgin, whose feast it is to-day, had _a hand in it_.

Monday, Oct. 5. We go for the last time to the shops, and to hear our last mass in San Antonio; for to-morrow we leave beautiful Cadiz and the dear friends who have made our stay so delightful. The political horizon to-day is a little clearer. In consequence of some outrages upon priests and churches one man has been banished to Ceuta, and large placards are upon the streets threatening with like punishment every one who insults a priest or injures a church. The banished man had harangued the mob, assuring them that a Dominican father in the convent of that order had some instruments of torture, formerly used in the Inquisition, and that he applied them to his penitents. The unthinking mob, guided by him, rushed to search the convent, broke the church windows, and not finding what was promised them, turned their fury upon the man who had deceived them.

In the war of 1835, when Saragossa began the work of burning the monasteries and murdering the monks, Cadiz gave her monks five hours to get away, and armed guards saved the monasteries. To be sure, the populace burned the libraries and furniture; but as Cadiz was then more moderate than her sister cities, she will not now be less kind than then. How impossible to believe, in looking out upon a city so smiling and so lovely, that evil passions should lurk in it anywhere!

To Be Continued.

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The Approaching Council Of The Vatican.

The preparations for the approaching council continue to be made on a grand scale, and with the greatest diligence. From the _Chronicle of Matters relating to the future Council_, which is regularly published at the office of the _Civilta Cattolicà_, in Rome, we copy the list of the different commissions and their members which are preparing the matters to be discussed and decided upon by the bishops assembled in ecumenical council.

The supreme directive congregation is composed of the most eminent cardinals, Patrizi, de Reisach, Barnabo, Panebianco, Bizarri, Bilio, Caterini, and Capalti. To these are joined, as secretary, Mgr. Giannelli; and as consulters, Mgr. Tizzani, Mgr. Angelini, vicegerent of Rome, Mgr. Talbot, (an Englishman,) Don Melchior Galeotti, of the seminary of Palermo, F. Sanguineti, S. J., professor of canon law in the Roman College, Professor Feije, of the University of Louvain, and Professor Hefele, of Tübingen. {357} The commission of ceremonies is composed of prelates who have the general supervision of the grand functions which take place in the principal churches of Rome. The politico-ecclesiastical commission is composed of;

Cardinal de Reisach, president,
Mgrs. Marini,
del Parco a Theatine,
Bartolini,
Jacobini,
Ferrari,
Nussi,
Gizzi, (a judge in one of the high courts,)
Guardi, (vicar-general of the religious
congregation of ministers of the sick,)
Canon Kovaes, of Kolocza in Bohemia,
Canon Molitor of Spire in Germany,
the Abbé Chesnel, vicar-general of Quimper,
Canon Moufang of Mayence,
the Abbé Gibert, vicar-general of Moulins, and
Mgr. Trinchieri, secretary.

The commission for eastern affairs is composed of

Cardinal Barnabo, president,
Don John Simeoni, of the Propaganda,
F. Bollig, S. J., professor of Sanscrit and Oriental
languages in the Roman university
and Roman college,
F. Vercellone, (Barnabite religious; since deceased,)
F. Theiner, of the Oratory,
the Most Rev. Leonard Valerga, prefect of Carmelite
missions in Syria,
the Right Rev. Joseph David, a Syrian bishop,
Canon Roncetti, professor in the Roman seminary,
Don Joseph Piazza,
Don Francis Rosi,
F. Haneberg, abbot of St. Boniface and professor
of theology in the university of Munich,
F. Martinoff,
S. J., Mgr. Howard, (an Englishman,) and
Mgr. Cretoni, secretary.

The commission on the religious orders and congregations is composed of

Cardinal Bizarri, president,
Mgrs. Marini,
Svegliati, and
Lucidi,
F. Capelli, (Barnabite,)
F. Bianchi,(Dominican,)
F. Cipressa, (Minorite Franciscan,)
F. Cretoni, (Augustinian,)
F. Costa, (Jesuit,)
Mgr. Guisasola, arch-priest of the
cathedral of Seville, and
Don Francis Stoppani, secretary.

The commission of dogmatic theology is composed of

Cardinal Bilio, president,
Mgr. Cardoni, president of the ecclesiastical academy,
F. Spada, (Dominican,) master of the
sacred palace and professor of
dogma in the Roman university,
F. de Ferrari, (Dominican,)
F., Perrone, S.J.,
Mgr. Schwetz, professor of theology in the
university of Vienna,
F. Mura, ex-general of the Servites, rector
of the Roman university,
F. Adrogna, definitor-general of the
conventual Franciscans,
Mgr. Jacquenet, curé of St. Jacques at Rheims,
the Abbé Gay, vicar-general of Poitiers,
F. Martinelli, (Augustinian,) professor of Scripture in the Roman
university,
Don Joseph Pecci, professor of philosophy in the same,
F. Franzlin, S. J., professor
of theology in the Roman college,
F. Schrader, S.J., professor in the
university of Vienna,
Professor Petacci, of the Roman seminary,
Professor Hettinger, of Wurtzburg,
Professor Alzog, of Friburg,
the Rev. Dr. Corcoran, of Charleston, S. C.,
Canon Labrador, professor of philosophy and theology at Cadiz, and
Canon Santori, rector of the pontifical lyceum in the Roman
seminary, secretary.

The commission of ecclesiastical discipline is composed of

Cardinal Caterini, president,
Mgrs. Giannelli,
Angelini,
Svegliati,
Simeoni,
Nina,
Nobili,
Lucidi,
de Angelis, professor of canon law in the Roman
university,
F. Tarquini, S.J.,
Canon Jacobini,
Professor Hergenroether, of Wurtzburg,
Professor Feije of Louvain,
the Abbé Sauvé, of Laval,
Canon Giese, of Munster,
Professor Heuser, of Cologne,
Professor de Torres, of Seville, and
Mgr. Louis Jacobini, secretary.

Several other distinguished men have been added to these commissioners since this list was published. Dr. Newman was invited to assist, but declined on account of his infirm health. Dr. Döllinger was also invited.

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The sessions of the council will be held in one of the large chapels of St. Peter's Church, which is capable of containing several thousand persons. The principal architects of Rome are already engaged in preparing the proper accommodations, under the immediate supervision of the Holy Father himself. The altar of the council is at one end of the chapel, the throne of the sovereign pontiff at the opposite end. On the right and left of the throne are placed the seats of the cardinals, patriarchs, and ambassadors of sovereigns. The seats of the prelates are ranged in two semicircles, each tier being elevated above the one before it; the tribune of the orators is placed in the middle of the open space between, and there are also tribunes prepared for those who will be admitted as spectators of the public sessions.