Chapter C: W. V (4)

To-morrow we shall arrive at Panama, which place I had not expected or hoped to see again, and I can scarcely realize the fact that since my last visit I have made the circuit of the globe, and since my departure from home have passed almost the entire length of North and South America on both sides. After fourteen winters’ travel in southern latitudes, and several years’ absence at intervals from home, I find that my table of distances amounts to six hundred thousand miles, from the snowy regions of Canada, Norway, and Finland in the north, to the barren shores of Patagonia in the south--having traversed by sea and land, at different periods, almost all the practicable portions of the earth, in making the circuit of the world. Although what has passed appears not unlike a dream, my ambition for the present is satisfied, and I have reason to thank a kind Providence, whose protecting hand has carried me through almost all the perils of life, and has been the means of preserving a constitution endangered by the severity of northern winter-climates. I shall proceed via the isthmus to Havana, and thence to New Orleans, on my way home, where I hope to arrive in the early part of June.

1853.

LXXXI.

PARIS, _Jan. 31, 1853_.

Since I left the Pacific coasts of Chili and Peru last spring, I have hesitated about afflicting you with correspondence, and thinking and hoping that my voyages around the world were complete. Time and circumstances, however, have since carried me to Cuba (by the way, it is my eighth visit), and I have traversed the waters of the Gulf of Mexico to the city of New Orleans; steamed up the mighty Mississippi and Ohio rivers for the sixth time; besides visiting Canada and Niagara. Notwithstanding the thousand incidents constantly occurring, I held my peace. Having left my native village in the latter part of November, in pursuit of a more genial climate, I find myself once again on European soil, and in the capital of the French empire. So many important events have transpired since I left home that you will pardon me for once more taking up my pen, and breaking silence. Our steamer took the southern passage in crossing the Atlantic; the early part of our voyage upon the edge of the gulf-stream was delightful, until at length a famous combat arose among the great opposing elements. For five successive days we had a continuation of the most violent gales, more properly speaking hurricanes, such as our officers had never experienced, and it was with difficulty that I could recall reminiscences of equally grand and awful scenes. The good ship Hermann, although obliged to manœuvre, or lie to, as the sailors term it, for thirty-six hours, at last got the mastery over Neptune: and when we arrived in England, we found that the steamer Washington had been disabled, and obliged to return. The same gales had carried destruction along the entire coast. The then approaching holiday season of Christmas was anxiously looked for, in England, particularly by the poor, for charities are more freely exercised at that time, and the English markets and butchers’ stalls are beautiful to gaze upon. But instances are rarely if ever known, as in our favored land, of the working classes trudging home under the weight of turkeys, geese, or chickens for a Sunday or Christmas dinner. How little do we know of the miseries of the laboring population abroad, and how slightly do we appreciate, as a people, the eminent advantages which we enjoy in our own favored land!

The universal practice of giving _étrennes_, or presents, on New Year’s day, among the Parisians, has led to the granting of privileges to _boutiques_, or temporary wooden shops, along both sidewalks of the Boulevards, for one week before, and one week after the first of January; they form a continuous bazaar for more than a mile, composed of all the indescribable knick-knacks and fancy articles that the ingenious brain of a Frenchman can contrive to gratify youthful taste or fancy, dolls and cheap jewelry figuring largely. This exhibition, with the flood of humanity to the extent of some hundreds of thousands, military, foreign, and domestic, in every variety of costume of holiday attire, added to the gay equipages and liveried servants, struck me as one of the great sights of the capital.

The season thus far has been remarkably mild; we have had much rain, but no winter, and fears are entertained for the future crops should the mild weather continue. In the _Jardin des Plantes_, some trees indicate the putting forth of new leaves.

This being the gay season, and Paris full of strangers from all parts, opportunity is not wanting for the gratification of the most fastidious. One would judge, from the announcement of balls, concerts, and theatres (of which latter I think there are thirty-two, of all sizes), that they could not be sustained; but on the contrary they are fully attended. The work of Madame Beecher Stowe has caused a perfect furore in Paris. Authors and editors run a steeple-chase in their hasty translations, which pour from the press with exaggerated engravings to gratify the tastes of the eager purchasers. Two large rival theatres, the _Ambigu Comique_ and the _Theatre de la Gaité_, conceived at the same moment the idea of dramatizing Uncle Tom. The _Ambigu_ won the race by a few days with immense success, but the _Gaité_ followed close after; and now may be seen the _affiches_ everywhere, and large transparencies in front of the theatres, emblazoned in great letters, “_La Case de l’Oncle Tom_.” My curiosity as an American, besides my familiarity with the institution of slavery as it exists at the south, induced me to visit the _Ambigu_, where I found the piece well mounted, with superb decorations, but full of exaggeration. The cries of the blood-hounds in pursuit of fugitive slaves; the brutal conduct of the masters; the tender scenes of separation; the discharge of fire-arms; the sale of negroes in New Orleans, all helped to bring the ladies’ handkerchiefs into frequent use; their tears, however, were readily dispersed by some ludicrous scene not in the novel. At the _Gaité_ the scenes are entirely changed, the state of Kentucky being the theatre of action. The sale of Uncle Tom, the flight of George and his wife, Eliza with her infant child, the crossing of the Ohio upon the ice, the arrival in Canada, the land of promise, amidst the most beautiful tropical vegetation, were greatly exaggerated; but worse than all, and shocking to the moral sense, Uncle Tom, who was a perfect black, was represented as the father of Eliza, a beautiful quadroon. One of the Parisian editors lately remarked that he was not at a loss to decide which condition was the most deplorable, that of the well-fed and well-clad negro in bondage, free from care, or that of the thousands of poor creatures in Paris, who shiver in the garret of a six-story tenement, after a hard day’s service for one franc, or twenty cents, to sustain their starving families.

The Parisians are emphatically a theatre-going people, and they have juvenile theatres expressly for nurses and parents with their children; of course the latter imbibe the passion early, and Sunday being their gala day, all places of amusement are naturally crowded. It would appear that all Paris is dancing at present; the imperial court dances, the ministers of war and of state dance, and the senate is preparing to dance, all of which is gratifying to the fancy dealers of the capital. The great event of the season took place yesterday, Sunday. It was the marriage of the Emperor at the cathedral of Notre Dame. The civil marriage was performed at the Palace of the Tuileries, the evening previous, by the minister of state, in presence of the family of Napoleon. After the ceremony was concluded the Countess Montijo was reconducted to her private residence in the Champs Elysées. Yesterday presented one of the most gorgeous pageants that Paris has ever witnessed. It would occupy too much time and space to attempt a description, and it would be useless to repeat what may be found in the public journals. The distance passed by the cortège from the Tuileries to Notre Dame, more than a mile, gave the Emperor, as he proclaimed in his speech to the Senate, an opportunity of presenting as he desired, to the army, and the French people, the bride of his choice, and if one could judge from the vast multitude which thronged the streets, the quays and bridges of the Seine, the windows, balconies, and every point which could be occupied, not only Paris, but the whole country was represented. The brilliant cortège left the palace at twelve M., preceded by detachments of mounted lancers, cuirassiers, guards, and divers others, followed by the imperial family and ladies of honor, in glittering state carriages with liveried coachmen and footmen, drawn by four and six horses with beautiful caparisoned harness, and a long train of foreign ambassadors, representatives and members of the Senate; then appeared the magnificent equipage of the Emperor, surmounted by an imperial crown, with sides of plate glass, drawn by eight white steeds, with plumes and gold-gilt trappings, containing himself and beautiful bride, responding gracefully to the salutations of the multitude. The same carriage was used but once before, at the nuptial ceremonies of Napoleon I. with the Empress Josephine, so much beloved by the French people. A double hedge of bayonets on each side of the line of march, composed of the regular troops of the national guard of Paris, prevented encroachment. The interior of Notre Dame was festooned with great taste and much splendor, while the exterior was enveloped in floating banners. The archbishop having performed the imposing marriage ceremonies, the cortège returned by another route, giving the masses the opportunity of seeing their imperial majesties.

The vast interior of the _Place du Carrousel_ was one living mass of humanity, awaiting the return and appearance of the happy pair upon the balcony of the Tuileries; at length they appeared and bowed to the multitude to close the scene. While men and boys were crying the sale of effigies and medals of the Emperor and Empress, amid the anxiety and excitement of a French population, I could not forget witnessing a review of the troops by Louis Philippe, on the same ground, and his then enthusiastic reception. Time makes great changes, and what may be the fate of those in power to-day! The French are fond of pageants, and always ready for a change. As long as commerce flourishes, and the condition of the laboring classes is tolerable, things go on smoothly; but amongst the thinking and reading portions of the community, who are deprived of the liberty of speech, and the press, there must be a deep hatred of the present dynasty.

Louis Napoleon has certainly had an eventful career. An exile, a prisoner at Ham, he returned to France after the fall of Louis Philippe, under the provisionary government, and was a member of the National Assembly when I visited that noisy assemblage in the autumn of 1848. On my departure for Italy in 1847, all was quiet under the royal rule of Louis Philippe; on my return, the trees of liberty were planted throughout Paris, the public buildings proclaimed in large capitals, “_Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité_”; the press was free and untrammelled, also liberty of thought and speech, as was seen placarded upon the bulletins. Things have changed. Liberty is crushed; her name, with those of her sisters, is scrupulously effaced from the public monuments. The constitution was declared, and there was an extensive display of two hundred thousand troops, and gorgeous decorations and fireworks upon the _Place de la Concorde_. I hoped that the government would become consolidated in a true republic, but I had my misgivings. The next news brought the election of Napoleon as President for four years; afterwards his power was extended for ten years; next came his famous _coup d’état_; then followed the proclamation of the Empire, and yesterday his marriage. The telegraph has proclaimed the joyous event to all France, and now all that is required is the confirmation by the Pope, which may probably take place next spring.

Within a week the Carnival commences. I am preparing to leave for the south of France, and Spain.

LXXXII.

BARCELONA, SPAIN, _Feb. 28, 1853_.

After the marriage of the French Emperor in Paris, whence I wrote you last month, we had nothing remarkable until the Carnival, and nothing notable then except the _fête du bœuf gras_, or the Sunday promenade of the fat ox. This novel ceremony seems to be a vestige of remote antiquity, and has been preserved up to the present time, as it gives the multitude an opportunity of diverting themselves. It appears that the poor fishermen of _Lutèce_ formerly adored the zodiacal bull, and as late as 1711, in constructing a sepulchre under the choir of the church of _Notre Dame_, several _bas-reliefs_ were found, one of which represented a bull clothed in sacred orders. It is the remains of the equinoctial spring ceremonies, when the sun entered into the zodiacal sign called Taurus, and the people of the agricultural provinces conducted the bull in great pomp with the sound of various musical instruments. This being altogether novel, I must describe it to you. The procession was got up by the butchers of Paris, who formed a cavalcade of one hundred and fifty persons on horseback, provided with various costumes, from the time of the crusades down to the court robes of Louis XIV., and guards of the Emperor Napoleon. This procession, with bands of music, was followed by an immense fat ox called Père Tom, or Uncle Tom, raised in Normandy, decorated with bouquets of flowers, ribbons, and laurels, followed by an immense gilded car drawn by six white horses, with the figures of several heathen deities, Venus being surrounded by a bevy of young girls, dressed in white with garlands of flowers. The day was occupied in their visits throughout Paris, to the imperial palace, the various ministers of the empire and foreign embassies, the police departments; and finally the poor beast, having slowly dragged his heavy carcass of two thousand three hundred pounds about town for the amusement of the populace, brought up at the _abattoir_, or general slaughtering establishment of the city.

Indications of approaching cold weather after the extremely mild season, induced me turn my face towards Spain. The railroad from Paris soon conducted me to _Chalons_, upon the _Saône_, whence I took steamer the next day for Lyons, the great silk-manufacturing city of France. Small steamers are employed upon these rivers; they are constructed of iron, very long, but exceedingly narrow, not much wider than an ordinary Erie Canal boat, but with the strong current they dash along at a frightful rate when the rivers are full. They are provided with jointed smoke pipes, to pass the numerous bridges.

On one occasion descending the Rhine we were obliged to lie-to, not being able to pass under the crossings from the heavy inundations, but in this instance the want of water prevented our continuing further than Valence; I took the diligence some sixty miles to Avignon, where the railroad conducts us to Marseilles. The sail upon the Saône and Rhône, with their numerous manufactories, agricultural towns, and villages, and wine districts, is quite entertaining to the traveller. A large population is engaged in the culture of the grape, but I have seen only two drunken men since I have been in France, and those seemed to be the amusement of groups of boys and men who surrounded them. We were caught by the first snow-storm of the season, and the mistral blew with its full force. The almond trees in blossom felt its effects; it will probably shorten the crop.

This being my third visit to Marseilles, I have nothing to write about it, except its progressive condition in commercial importance. The new port, in course of construction, an extraordinary enterprise, is progressing rapidly. The old port, which was small and crowded to excess, rendering vessels liable to entire destruction in case of fire, and the difficulty of egress, induced the creating of an artificial port of solid masonry. Two days’ delay gave me an opportunity of embarking for this city, where I find a temperate climate, being sheltered from the northern blasts by the high mountains of the Pyrénées.

Barcelona, for size, is the second city in Spain, and the first in importance for manufactures. It is a walled town with ramparts as promenades around it, closely built, narrow, and rather intricate streets, and tall houses, mostly of stone. The Muralla or sea wall affords a good promenade, and a fine view of a harbor rather indifferent for vessels of heavy tonnage, with a commanding fortification called Mont Juich on the summit of a high hill overlooking the sea and the city; the latter is cleanly kept, and in good order, and well worth a visit. The suburbs of the city for some miles are occupied in part by manufacturing villages, and among the number is a large town called Gracia, resorted to by summer residents to escape the heat of the city; it is a pleasant retreat. The population of the city and suburbs is two hundred thousand. The province of Catalonia is perhaps the most industrious and enterprising portion of Spain. The Catalonians, whose language is a _patois_, pride themselves in being more advanced than the Castilians. In 1835 the first steam-engine was introduced in manufacturing, and from the unfounded prejudice of the working classes the establishment was destroyed by the populace. But at present steam is freely used, the supply of coal being brought from England; the mountains of Spain abound with the article, but the want of communication precludes a supply from this source. Railroads are being introduced moderately; the only one yet constructed in this department is from Barcelona to Mataro, a town along the coast. It runs along the sea-shore some seven leagues, passing through fishing villages.

The Spaniards are famous for their public promenades or _almedas_, and the _Rambla_ is the chief attraction. It presents a gay, picturesque sight on Sunday, when thronged with all classes in the holiday attire of the country. The two principal theatres are situated upon this promenade, as well as the great hotels, which gives one an opportunity of seeing the sights from the balconies. The Barcelonians boast of the largest theatre and the most luxurious _cafés_ in the world. Certainly the Eliseo is nearly or quite as large as La Scala in Milan. The club room, called the _circulo_, and the _casino_, adjoining the opera and theatre, are fitted up with great taste, containing libraries, and many periodicals of the day from France and England. There is a numerous French population here, and the character of the people is not so decidedly Spanish as further south. In times of reaction or opposition to the government, this place is generally at the head of the movement. This is perhaps attributable to the superior intelligence of the people, and to its proximity to France. The direct commerce is trifling with the United States in American bottoms, but the exportation of wine, oil, soap, brandy, and dried fruits, is very large; these articles are sent to Havana in Spanish vessels, which in return bring cargoes of cotton and sugar from the Southern States and Cuba.

The American corvette Levant is now here, having been detained some time with small-pox on board; her destination is our naval station at Spezzia. The health of the crew is now good, and the ship is looking finely. I was kindly received by the officers; and the Levant being the only American ship in port, and myself the only American traveller here at present, it was gratifying to be once again under the protection of the stars and stripes. The climate is mild, but the mornings and nights are cool. One would suppose, from the manner in which the Catalonians are enveloped in their large Spanish cloaks, which cover their noses, that the thermometer was below zero, while the same atmosphere in New York, in the month of April, would be considered delightful. Strange as it may appear, in our hotel, with seventy rooms, there is not a chimney; and when fire is absolutely required, we make use of _braseros_, a flat brass vessel with raised edges, which contains live coals, and ashes from well burned wood, in place of charcoal, to avoid suffocation from the gases.

The chief amusements are the promenades, _cafés_, opera, theatres, and bull fights, at all of which the fair senoritas assist. The bull fights I described fully last year from Peru. They are not so famous here either for their bulls or swordsmen as in Seville or Madrid; neither will the ladies compare for beauty with the graceful Andalusians. In all public places you are enveloped in cigar smoke; the lobbies of the opera during the scenes are filled with devotees of the weed, whose smoke penetrates throughout the house, and by common consent is tolerated in all public and private houses and conveyances.

The lower orders are poor; they fare meagrely, and are poorly rewarded for their labor. The city is not remarkable for its public monuments. The cathedral is a noble Gothic structure, and possesses some works of art, but it would be idle to compare it or the other churches with those of Italy.

LXXXIII.

PALMA, ISLAND OF MAJORCA, _March 10, 1853_.

My last letter was from Barcelona. I was then preparing to visit this island, and notwithstanding its proximity (it is only one hundred and fifty miles distant) and its belonging to Spain, one has to go through all the silly formalities of procuring a Spanish passport, with the _visé?_ of the American Consul, and a certificate of health from the _Casa de Sanidad_, which latter is a sure and easy mode of robbing the traveller. I embarked on board of a small weekly steamer for Palma, the capital city, on the south side of the island, situated upon a deep bay, and having a good and secure harbor for large vessels, and a fair trade with Havana. I was agreeably surprised in finding a city of forty thousand persons, occupying a healthy and eligible position, with many fine public buildings, some of which are very antique, denoting its great commercial importance when it enjoyed the trade of the Levant.

By reference to my books I find that the Romans granted it the privilege of a colony; it was afterwards conquered by the Arabs, who made it the residence of their kings, and it continued such after the conquest of Don Jayme the First, of Aragon, in the year 1229, and its most extraordinary monument of that period, commenced during his reign, is the citadel, upon the summit of a high hill, about one mile from the city, commanding a most extensive view of the town and sea. In the centre of it, passing over a deep and wide moat, by a drawbridge, one enters a tower of Cyclopean construction, of great height, and by easy circular stairs of heavy stone arrives at the summit, from which the eye beholds one of the most magnificent prospects of the entire valley and the suburbs of the city, dotted with cottages, and olive and almond trees in blossom. From the prisons within there was no escape, particularly from the lower one, where the culprit passes a final trap, never to be withdrawn.

Some comfortable quarters are fitted up for the use of the governor during the heat of summer. The polite and civil colonel of the governor’s staff conducted me in his cabriolet with the aid of an extra mule, nearly to the summit. I have received, by the by, many marks of courtesy from the commandant of the marine as well as other Spanish officers in Barcelona, to whom I was recommended, notwithstanding that our national character has suffered through the acts of the filibusters in the island of Cuba. The houses and the streets of the city are clean, and the population industrious; the hotels are poor. The chief branches of industry are those of the _zapateros_, or shoemakers, whose work is exported to Havana, and the abundant supply of olive oil for the manufactories in the suburbs, of the famous castile soap. The exportation of wine, dried fruit, and almonds, is also very considerable. The language of the country is the Mallorquin, a _patois_ of the Arab, Spanish, and French languages; the common people do not speak the Castilian. One of the finest estates is that of the Conde de Monte Negro, about three hours’ drive from town. The Cardinal Monte Negro, now deceased, while at Rome made a famous collection of antique statues, and founded a museum on his estate, which is surrounded by valleys of orange, almond, and olive trees, with vineyards upon amphitheatred walled patches of earth extending up the mountain side, and affording the most changeable and picturesque views imaginable.

The little town of Soler, some five leagues distant, on the north side of the island, with a population of eight thousand, is almost entirely dependent upon the culture of the orange. The high mountain over which one crosses is unproductive, but the valleys are extremely fertile, and the scenery is varied. The roads are indifferent; their zigzag windings and tropical views bring to mind the mountains of Caraccas, and the heights of Brazil, and although I rode behind a mule, in a rude sort of gig without springs, with low cover to protect me from the sun’s rays, not sufficiently elevated to wear a hat, my driver perched upon a rude box at the tail of the mule, with a cudgel in hand, now yelling hideously expecting to increase his speed, then jumping down in disgust at the obstinacy of the animal, and trudging along on foot, I felt fully compensated by the magnificent prospect in the distance, and a growing appetite for even a Spanish dinner, tinctured with oil and garlic. My driver attempted to describe the objects about us in Spanish, but finding himself embarrassed, he branched off in his own jargon, presuming that I understood him perfectly.

I had ridden through orange groves on horseback in the West Indies, plucking the fruit in passing, but I was not prepared for a league square of orange trees loaded with their golden crop, the branches extending over the walls, uniting and forming an arcade across the narrow streets on entering the town. Soler is situated about two miles from the port, along the banks of a mountain torrent, the sides of which are strewed with fallen oranges.

This is the fruit season, and many small vessels are employed in carrying cargoes to Marseilles, and other ports in France and Spain. Those that are picked by hand and delivered on board, are worth two rials vellon, say ten cents per hundred; such as fall from the trees, detached by the wind, are worth the same price for _five hundred_. I was struck with the fine faces of the children, and the Arabic type and complexion of the women. The people are poor but industrious, and their wants are few. They have bread, some meats, _garabanzas_, a species of pea much in use, with oil and wine; the latter, of the choicest quality, is called _malvoisia_, or _alba flor_, and enjoys a high reputation in Barcelona. The little port is round as a bowl, and placid as a lake, entirely protected, and landlocked with high projecting cliffs above its narrow and bold entrance, and bears resemblance in miniature to Acapulco, on the Pacific coast. A few fishermen only reside there, and a few small orange vessels are seen.

The peasants of the country are very primitive in their costume, wearing broad-brimmed conical hats, and long pantaloons, girded about the loins, with goat skins which cover their shoulders; holes are cut in the side of the undressed hide to pass their arms through, and the entire form of the reddish-brown skin, with the tail in some instances, is suspended down the back, presenting a grotesque appearance. The women wear men’s straw hats, with handkerchiefs round the head and under the chin, and round, white, expanding collars, falling a foot in length, with a priestly look, and the groups of both sexes on foot, and mounted upon donkeys, carrying panniers loaded with charcoal, wood, and products of the soil, form a droll caravan. Their copper coins are about the size of small dress-coat button, and nine of them are given for a rial vellon, valued at five cents; and singular as it may appear, the people refuse the copper coin of the main land, while the circulation of five franc pieces is current here, as also in Spain. The old-fashioned pistareen, or peseta, is in general use. In most things they are full a century behind the age, but the light of civilization is beginning to extend here as on the main land. The climate is delightful, nature prolific, and the people in general honest, civil, and polite. I could prolong my stay with pleasure, visiting other portions of the island, but I must not, as I proceed to Valencia, which lies one hundred and fifty miles opposite, on the Spanish coast.

LXXXIV.

VALENCIA, SPAIN, _March 22, 1858_.

I am in the ancient city of Valencia, surrounded by many antique buildings and relics of Moorish architecture peculiar to the south of Spain. The city contains a population of sixty thousand, and has a fine old cathedral, from the tower of which is seen to advantage the verdure of the valley in the extreme distance, irrigated by water drawn from a mountain torrent which passes near the city, and which at this season presents little but a gravelly bed. The mulberry is cultivated largely, and the production of silk and velvet is the most important branch of industry. There are many churches adorned with fine old paintings by the Spanish masters. The ceilings of two large saloons in the _Casa de la Ciudad_, or City Hall, are of heavy timbers, about a foot apart, and ornamented with an infinity of carved allegorical figures of most exquisite workmanship, in a high state of preservation; they belong to the thirteenth century, and differ from anything I have ever seen before. Notwithstanding the foreign and civil wars, the code of laws of that period, written on parchment and illuminated with the most precious designs and colors, is almost as perfect as when written. The city library, of four thousand volumes, has also some of these gems of antiquity, the labor of a lifetime, executed in the calm and quiet cloister of the monk, free from the cares and anxieties of the world. Aside from museums, churches, paintings, statues, and Moorish architecture, my time has been employed in visiting the public institutions of the city, and the manufacturing establishments peculiar to the country.

The Presidio, or state prison, which has two thousand convicts, each of whom has his occupation in the different departments, reminded me of Sing Sing, with this exception: that here almost all branches of industry are prosecuted, and often to the detriment of the poor free mechanic, which is not the case with us. The most interesting portion of their employments is the weaving of velvets of rich colors. The manufacture of our staple cotton enters largely into the production of common cloth; basket-work, shoe-making, blacksmithing, and the making of chairs and furniture are important branches, also. The kitchen department, and the extreme cleanliness of the whole institution, refute the charge of filthiness, so frequently alleged against the Spanish race. Not a soldier is employed; the prisoners stand sentinel over each other. No cells are used; the mattresses are rolled up and suspended according to number, to be spread in large airy halls. The obstreperous and unruly wear chains; they seem to be easily governed, although many hard subjects are found among them. The hospital is an immense establishment, covering a large extent of surface; it comprises three departments, for the infirm, the reception of new-born infants, and the lunatic asylum, and contains in all some six hundred persons of both sexes. The sick are in charge of sisters of charity, whose devotion is well known. I can scarcely say what is most painful in this establishment--the groans of the sick and suffering, the pitiful cries of the new-born and abandoned infants, or the wild ravings of the maniacs. Certainly sympathy is excited, and our moral nature is exercised, but we experience a sensible relief in escaping the inclosure of so much concentrated misery. The same system is practised here as was until recently in Paris; the poor or culpable mother puts her charge upon the revolving wheel, which places it in the hands of the nurses, for whom there is one large apartment; there are forty of these nurses, each one in charge of three suspended cradles rocking upon a pivot from the walls. The arrangements are perfect, but the pitiful cries of one hundred and twenty infants of tender ages induced me to pass hastily to the apartment of the larger children; I saw groups of them at table, of the ages of two years and upwards; they appeared happy and joyous.

The insane were classed according to their malady, in different departments; there were some fifty at dinner when we entered, who behaved well. In the next apartment, containing about twenty, we were addressed by one who had in hand a bowl of pottage, and who, in the most eloquent and appealing language, complained loudly of barbarous and despotic treatment, and want of nourishment; the keeper replied in reproachful terms, when a combat commenced between them which threatened to compromise our safety, as the maniac got the advantage of our guide, who escaped with the blood trickling down his scratched figure. We pacified the surrounding group with presents of cigars, which they sought for eagerly; in the next department they were the most violent, and were placed in chains, with their arms strapped and rendered powerless; they begged lamentably to be released from captivity. Iron cages still exist in the prison, but the use of them is now abandoned; not so in Egypt, where I saw the poor maniacs in cells like wild beasts, in a state of nudity, with collars about their necks, attached by a chain, and climbing the iron bars.

The article of tobacco in Spain is a government monopoly, and various manufacturers of cigars and snuff are found in the principal cities; the _estancos_, or shops for their sale, are appointed throughout the kingdom, producing a net revenue, under the best administration of affairs, of nine millions of dollars per annum. The establishment here is an immense solid stone structure, resembling a palace, three stories high, and employing three thousand eight hundred female operatives in making cigars, and two hundred men in cutting smoking tobacco. The director informed me that they had orders ahead to the value of sixty thousand dollars, and had not hands sufficient to supply them. Every department of the upper stories is occupied with females, there being from six to eight at each table; these tables are placed in double rows on each side of halls some three hundred feet in length, of a quadrangular form; the centre of the edifice is an open court. They commence at seven A.M., and leave at six P.M., bringing their simple repast with them in the morning. The basement is occupied as store rooms, in which are found all the different qualities of Havana and Philippine tobacco, not forgetting eleven mammoth hogsheads of one thousand pounds each, which I recognised readily as the staple of Kentucky and Virginia. I once visited the factory at Seville, where eighteen hundred females are employed, and thought it an extraordinary sight; but I was astonished to see such masses of the tender sex as were here, and the amount of work they performed.

The entire process of the silk manufacture, from the opening of the cocoon to the making of stuffs for ladies’ robes, is an interesting study. One large and well regulated factory that I visited employs from two hundred and fifty to three hundred females. In the upper story of this building are seen one hundred and twenty girls, placed in rooms sixty feet long, with a permanently set kettle in brick-work, and pipes of hot and cold water supplied by the engine pumps. The cocoons are put into the warm water and circulated with small brush brooms; the silk attaches itself to the fibres, and by motive power is drawn off on reeling machines. The worm is dislodged from the cocoon, and the silk completely drawn off; it then passes into the hands of the spinners, and thence to the weavers, and finally appears as the choice fabric of Valencia.

The manufacture of porcelain of various designs and colors, is curious for one not familiar with the method. The preparation is made from ground clay, moulded as in our brick and pottery works, then kiln-dried for fifteen hours, then passed through a composition of liquids, which is immediately absorbed, and which whitens it; it then goes into the hands of the artist, who designs with a brush the different figures and colors; it is then dried in kilns with faggots, for sixty hours. The principal trade is in squares for floors and staircases. Tiles for the domes of churches are also made of different colors. Valencia has a miserable harbor, which is now undergoing reconstruction; the roadstead is bad and dangerous, and it is at times impossible to land or embark, on account of the breakers. On landing from the steamer, which came from Barcelona, and which lay a mile distant from the shore, escaping from the surf on one side, we were beset by a clamorous horde of tartana drivers, each determined to have his portion of the spoils. The luggage has to be carried and examined at the custom-house, and thence transported from the village of Groan to Valencia, a distance of three miles.

The tartana is an odd-looking and hard riding vehicle; it is the carriage of the country for all classes. I can only compare it to a butcher’s cart without springs; it has a baggage-wagon top, seats suspended lengthwise, slightly raised from the axle, with heavy netting for the bottom, and steps in the rear; the driver has his seat on the shafts. The wealthy manage to fit them up with springs, and have them cushioned inside, with glass windows fore and aft, and tastefully painted; they are large enough for a family, and the captivating glances from the flashing eyes of the dark-browed senoritas, peeping from the openings, compensated in some degree for the ill-looking conveyance.

LXXXV.

MURCIA, SPAIN, _March 29, 1853_.

Leaving Valencia, by steamer, we arrived at Alicant the morning of Palm Sunday. The city contains some twenty-five or thirty thousand inhabitants; has a small artificial harbor, a tolerable roadstead, and is the seat of considerable commerce. It is well protected by a fort on the summit of a volcanic rock, of a dull grey color. The houses are clean and well built; but they suffer here from drought, having had but little rain for several years, and large numbers of the peasantry have emigrated to Algiers. The cathedral was crowded with groups of men, women, and children, bearing palm-branches, artificially braided, and fancifully ornamented with ribbons and sugar-plums, with which they paraded in the procession to the sounds of violins and bugles. The priests, in full church-robes, followed by the multitude bearing torches, passed out of the church, making a circuit, and returning knocked for admittance at the closed doors, which were finally opened to the triumphant group, a symbol of the entrance of Christ into Jerusalem. The huertas, or valleys, in the distance, irrigated by artificial means, are rich and fertile, and produce olives, grapes, and a succession of crops. The palmtree flourishes in certain localities, and the fresh dates are not to be despised. From Alicant I proceeded to Carthagena by steamer, some hundred miles. Carthagena is in a decayed state, for the want of commerce; still it is the best port of Spain on the Mediterranean. King Charles III. made it a naval establishment; the fortifications, bulwarks, hospitals, arsenals, and ropewalks, are upon a magnificent scale, and well worth a visit; but it has a dull, inanimate appearance, only a few naval vessels being there; the trade is mostly with English craft, bringing coal for the foundries in the neighborhood, and taking cargoes of lead in return. The mining of lead and copper is a very important branch in this portion of Spain. I visited some works which are extensively carried on by English capitalists, but I thought the lead ore which I once saw in Galena, Illinois, was superior in quality. There is a Presidio, or government prison, at Carthagena, which contained one thousand two hundred persons, employed like those described in Valencia. Large numbers were engaged in braiding Esparto, a species of mountain grass, which is made use of for sacking, carpeting, and various purposes. Not a little amusing was it to see groups of male convicts engaged in the unmanly employment of knitting fancy stockings for ladies.

From Carthagena I came to the capital of the old kingdom of Murcia by diligence, a distance of about thirty miles, and arrived in time to witness the principal ceremony of the Holy Week. The road passed through a dull and uninteresting country, traversing a grey volcanic region for a considerable distance across the mountain, without vegetation, when the fruitful valley of Murcia appeared of a sudden, not unlike an oasis in the desert. The irrigated valley is prolific in orange, lemon, mulberry, and other trees. The city contains forty thousand inhabitants; it is very quiet, being the residence of many aristocratic families, as may be seen from the armorial bearings on the fronts of the houses. The streets are narrow, and the buildings fancifully painted. There is an air of ease and comfort about the male peasantry, with their gay striped mantles, and the fancy embroidered drapery of the women, in groups on festival occasions, fills up the picture. The public walks, here, are very agreeable. The view of the Vega, or valley, from the Cathedral dome, and the circular city, with its blue flat roofs and cane pigeon-houses, is charming, as also the prospect of the country in the distance, with its drooping palm trees and flowery fields and gardens. The cathedral rises in divisions not unlike a spyglass drawn out, and surmounted by a dome.

The Holy Week has just drawn to a close. Having passed several of these festivals in Jerusalem, Rome, Havana, and Lima, I was anxious to witness the religious ceremonies, here, and compare them with those of the countries I have named. I find they outstrip the latter in the detail, but are less grand and impressive. The people pride themselves on the rich wood carvings of one Francisco Larcillo, who lived in the last century, and whose work is found in the churches, also in the figures which form part of the procession, and which are admirably executed. It was curious to watch the country people, of both sexes, in their gay Spanish costumes, crowding the streets to see the figures personifying the acts and sufferings of Christ; the Saviour being represented to the life, supporting the weight of a heavy cross, the wood-work of which was covered with tortoise-shell, and tipped with gold, his hair streaming at full length, and the blood trickling from the wounds of the golden crown of thorns. The platform rested upon the shoulders of twelve men, who were provided with crutches with which to rest themselves at the stations. The figures of Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalen, and St. Peter, with the keys, were upon similar platforms, covered with silks and satins, tinsel and gold, with a profusion of artificial and natural flowers. Among the number is Christ and the Twelve Apostles surrounding the table of the last supper, which is abundantly supplied with meats, fruits, and confectionery, very tastefully arranged. The almost naked and bleeding form of Christ submitting to the flagellation, is represented by the hideous figure of a monster who has fallen from exhaustion, while others are drawn to take the cords that bind him to the stake. The immense procession is headed by bands of music, the priesthood in full regalia, the military and civil officers, followed by a company of Nazarenes in armor, with lances, who go through a sham fight, the whole succeeded by the military, and as many as five hundred persons, bare-footed, of all ages and sizes, dressed in white cotton cloth hoods and skirts, their loins girded with cords. The hoods or masks contain two holes for sight. The persons who wear these masks support a black crucifix of some weight upon their shoulders. The streets are crowded to excess, and the balconies are filled with sparkling-eyed senoritas and groups of friends. The anxiety of the crowd to get a peep at the procession, with the confusion, made it more a festival or jubilee than a religious ceremony. The night procession with torches, after the crucifixion, with the lifeless and mutilated body of Christ, surrounded by his weeping mother and the attending groups, was more quiet, and more solemn and imposing. High mass was numerously attended in the Cathedral on the morning of the Resurrection, when at ten o’clock the bells of the city churches thundered forth the glad tidings that the Saviour had risen, and induced many to huzza it. I had to take refuge in a shop for a half hour from the merciless peltings of those on the house-tops and in the balconies, who threw ashes, sand, and earthen missiles, not unlike the Brazilian wax-balls of lemon size, filled with water, only more difficult to dispose of. It was a temporary diversion, and was taken in good part: but some funny scenes and dirty faces were the consequence.

Having visited on a former occasion all the southern cities of Spain, and having now completed the eastern coast on the Mediterranean, I must turn my face towards Madrid, and have a fatiguing ride for upwards of two hundred miles, in heavy lumbering diligences, over rough roads, with miserable Posadas, or inns. The roads are now considered tolerably safe, being protected by civil guards, who have arrested and shot many of the highwaymen.

I shall take Aranjuez, the Versailles of the Spanish court, en route to Madrid.

LXXXVI.

MADRID, _April 15, 1853_.

Ensconced in the bedina, or front compartment of a huge lumbering diligence, at two o’clock in the morning, I left Murcia, behind eight mules, a postillion, and two drivers, with the prospect of a hard ride, over a very uninteresting country, of sixty Spanish leagues--which are unlike any other for length--the “Camino Real,” or royal road, being neglected, and in consequence of the winter rains, in horrible order. The wheel mules are attached to the pole, and guided without bits; the others draw by long straggling ropes; the coachman sits in the box with his long whip, and his assistant, who jumps down from time to time and pelts the animals with sticks, stones, and mud. The postillion rides a horse beside the first led mule; he is required where the roads are the worst, and he keeps the track. The mules all have their titles, and seem to understand the incessant cries, from the India-rubber lungs of the driver, of Carpintero, Zapetero, Carbonero, and the whole catalogue of names. The long ears of the animal named, are pricked up, and his best efforts are made under the cut of the lash, or the whizzing of a stone past his head.

We pushed through a dreary and uninteresting country some twenty leagues, with occasional fertile valleys and indifferent villages, to the Sheffield of Spain, the town of Albacete, where we passed the night. It is noted in Spain for the manufacture of arms. Population ten thousand. We were soon surrounded by venders of poniards, stilettos, and small punalicos, or knives, which the women are said to conceal in their garters. The Spaniard is very expert in the use of the knife, and with it concealed under his capa, or cloak, is a dangerous enemy. The inns are generally great, barn-like stone buildings, with open patios, or courts, for the entrance of animals and vehicles. The rooms are generally dirty, with no furniture except cot-beds; and after an oily garlicky supper, the fleas, and kicking and thrashing of the mules all night, one is prepared for a comfortable nap in the diligence over a rough road. The bread is generally excellent throughout Spain, and chocolate can always be procured.

We made long, tiresome distances, over barren treeless plains, with no water for irrigation, and no signs of birds or animal life, when we would suddenly strike a fertile valley, tolerably cultivated by the scratching process of rude ploughs, but without hedges or landmarks, to denote proprietorship.

At break of day, and late sunset, the peasants may be seen mounted on donkeys, or carrying their implements of husbandry, after the hard toils of the day, returning to their mud or stone hovels, comfortless and cheerless, not unlike the country people in the interior of Sicily, who congregate in villages in like manner, and for a motive similar to the one which actuates them here--safety from the hordes of bandits which the wars of the Peninsula have produced. The guardias civiles, whom we met from time to time, have made sad havoc with the Ladrons, shooting several, and taking many prisoners, so we came through in safety.

Some of the villages of La Mancha through which we passed, were very poor, with many beggars; others appeared comfortable, and the people gay and cheerful, notwithstanding the heavy exactions and badly administered government. The country, however, was full of historical interest, as at the left, not far distant, lay Argamasilla del Alba, in the prison of which Cervantes wrote Don Quixote. Near the villages many flat, square, open threshing floors, were found, for bruising the grain with the feet of mules and oxen, after the custom of oriental countries. I was forcibly reminded of the exploits of Don Quixote as we approached the village El Toboso, the reputed residence of the crack-brained knight of the windmills; for here the mills were numerous, and used for grinding the grain of the country. They look not unlike giants in the distance, and hence it was perhaps that the Don assured Sancho that they might get elbow-deep in adventures. It was a festival day with the peasants, and the dulcineas, with their half Swiss, half German appearance, in blue and green petticoats, with handkerchiefs tied under their chins during the Cachucha, the national dance, and castanets in their hands, and their Cabeleros, in low crowned, high rimmed, velvet-bound hats, with fancy colored, round clothes, jackets and leggings, had a happy effect.

On the morning of the third day we breakfasted at Ocana, memorable for a battle in 1808, in which Marshal Soult, with twenty-five thousand men, put to flight sixty thousand Spaniards, through good generalship; the French killed five thousand and took twenty-six thousand prisoners, with the loss of only one thousand six hundred men, a stroke of luck reminding one of the famous Texian fight at San Jacinto. The town was pillaged and almost destroyed--the people left poor and miserable. The diligences and other vehicles concentrate here from the south and east, and give it some importance.

From Ocana we passed through a hilly, dreary, and treeless country, until suddenly, as if by enchantment, burst upon the view the fertile valley and banks of the Tayos, upon which is situated Aranjuez, the early summer residence of the royal family, the spires and cupolas of the palace and outbuildings, looming up like signals for the benighted traveller in the desert waste. Here is found the only railroad, which enters the capital, a distance of nine leagues. As I design visiting the palaces and the gardens when the trees are in full bloom, I shall defer my remarks until that time.