I am very glad that I went to Tangiers, for many reasons. In the first place, I was permitted to circulate many copies of God’s Word both amongst the Jews and the Christians, by the latter of whom it was particularly wanted, their ignorance of the most vital points of religion being truly horrible. In the second place, I acquired a vast stock of information concerning Africa and the state of its interior. One of my principal associates was a black slave, whose country was only three days’ journey from Timbuctoo, which place he had frequently visited. The Soosi men also told me many of the secrets of the land of wonders from which they come, and the rabbis from Fez and Morocco were no less communicative. Moreover I consider it a great advantage to have obtained the friendship of Mr. Hay, who is a true British gentleman. I found him at first reserved and distant, and I thought averse to countenance the object of my mission. In a few days, however, his manner changed surprisingly, and at my departure he begged me to communicate to the Bible Society that at all times and seasons he should be happy to receive its commands, and to render all the assistance in Fez and Morocco which his official situation would permit him, should the views of the Society at any future time be directed to those regions.
Permit me, my dear Sir, to correct in your letter something which savours of inaccuracy. You hint at the issues of the Scriptures in Spain having been small. Now during the last year I have issued three thousand Testaments and five hundred Bibles, which is certainly no small circulation of the Word of God in such a country. But pray inform me why the circulation has not been ten times greater? Surely you are aware that among the many peculiarities of my situation was this distressing one, namely, that I was scarcely ever able to supply the people with the books that they were in want of. They clamoured for Bibles, and I had nothing but Testaments to offer them. Had I been possessed of twenty thousand Bibles in the spring of the present year, I could have disposed of them all without leaving Madrid; and they would have found their way through all Spain. I beseech you always to bear this fact in mind in your reports to the public, otherwise that public will remain strangely in the dark respecting the spirit of enquiry which is abroad in Spain.
You are quite right in supposing that I entertain a favourable opinion of Mr. Wood. I know him to be a good husband and father, and a man who fears the Lord: he is likewise possessed of considerable ability; but I am entirely unacquainted with any plan which he may have formed respecting printing the Scriptures in Spain, or any memorial which he may have sent in to the Bible Society on the subject, so that of course I cannot be expected to express an opinion. It is my intention in a few days to depart from hence on my expedition, so that should you be desirous of writing to me, you had perhaps best address to Madrid.
When the Bible Society has no further occasion for my poor labours, I hope it will do me justice to the world. I have been its faithful and zealous servant. I shall on a future occasion take the liberty of addressing you as a friend respecting my prospects. I have the materials of a curious book of travels in Spain; I have enough metrical translations from all languages, especially the Celtic and Sclavonic, to fill a dozen volumes; and I have formed a vocabulary of the Spanish Gypsy tongue, and also a collection of the songs and poetry of the Gitanos with introductory essays. Perhaps some of these literary labours might be turned to account. I wish to obtain honourably and respectably the means of visiting China, or particular parts of Africa. I call this letter private, but communicate such parts of it as you think proper.
(Unsigned.)
To the Rev. A. Brandram
(Endorsed: recd. Dec. 19, 1839)
Prison of Seville, Novr. 25, 1839.
Revd. and dear Sir,—I write these lines as you see from the common prison of Seville, to which I was led yesterday, or rather dragged, neither for murder nor robbery nor debt but simply for having endeavoured to obtain a passport for Cordova, to which place I was going with my Jewish servant, Hayim Ben Attar.
It is necessary for me here to give you some information respecting my proceedings since I last wrote. I wished to distribute some more Testaments in Seville before I left the country, and accordingly procured a considerable number from Madrid. Everything was accomplished with the utmost secrecy, and the blessed books obtained considerable circulation. I likewise sent agents into the country, and went myself in my accustomed manner. All went well, the entire stock which had reached me was circulated, and I rested from my labours for a little time; for indeed I had need of quiet, being indisposed.
Some English people now came to Seville and distributed tracts in a very unguarded manner, knowing nothing of the country or the inhabitants. They were even so unwise as to give tracts instead of money on visiting public buildings, etc. These persons came to me, and requested my co-operation and advice, and likewise introductions to people spiritually disposed amongst the Spaniards, to all which requests I returned a decided negative. But I foresaw all. In a day or two I was summoned before the Gefe Politico or, as he was once called, Corregidor of Seville, who I must say treated me with the utmost politeness, and indeed respect; but at the same time he informed me that he had (to use his own expression) terrible orders from Madrid concerning me, if I should be discovered in the act of distributing the Scriptures or any writings of a religious tendency. He then taxed me with having circulated both lately, especially tracts: whereupon I told him that I had never distributed a tract since I had been in Spain, nor had any intention of doing so. We had much conversation and parted in kindness. I went away for a few days, though without intending to do anything, and wrote to the firm of O’Shea for money, of which I stood in need and which I received. I now determined to make for La Mancha and to put my plan into execution, which I should have done sooner had the roads been a little more secure. Yesterday I sent my passport to be signed by the Alcalde del Barrio. This fellow is the greatest ruffian in Seville, and I have on various occasions been insulted by him; he pretends to be a liberal, but is of no principle at all, and as I reside within his district he has been employed by the Canons of the cathedral to vex and harass me on every possible occasion. (By the way, the hatred which these last people nourish against me amounts almost to frenzy, and scarcely a day passes by in which they do not send in false accusations against me to the Gefe Politico; they have even gone so far as to induce people to perjure themselves by swearing that I have sold or given them books, people whom I have never seen nor heard of; and the same system was carried on whilst I was in Africa, for they are so foolishly suspicious that they could not be persuaded that I was out of Seville.) The above-mentioned Alcalde refused to sign the passport, though he was bound to do so, it being quite in form, and insulted the messenger: whereupon I sent the latter back with money to pay any fees lawful or unlawful which might be demanded, as I wished to avoid noise and the necessity of applying to the consul, Mr. Williams. But the fellow became only more outrageous. I then went myself to demand an explanation and was called all the vilest names contained in the Spanish Germanía (Billingsgate), whereupon I told him that if he proceeded in this manner I would make a complaint to the authorities through the consul. He then said that if I did not instantly depart he would drag me off to prison, and cause me to be knocked down if I made the slightest resistance. I dared him repeatedly to do both, and said that he was a disgrace to the Government which employed him and to human nature. He called me a heretic. We were now in the street and a mob was collected, whereupon I cried ‘Viva Inglaterra, y viva La Constitucion.’ The populace seemed disposed to side with me, notwithstanding the exhortations of the monster to them that they would knock down the foreigner, for he himself quailed before me as I looked him in the eyes defying him. He at last ran to a neighbouring guard-house, and requested the assistance of the Nationals in conducting me to prison. I followed him and delivered myself up at the first summons, and walked to the prison without uttering a word: not so the ruffian, who continued his abuse until we arrived at the gate. I was asked my name by the authorities of the prison, which I refused to give unless in the presence of the consul, and indeed to answer any questions. I was then ordered to the patio or courtyard, where are kept the lowest thieves and assassins of Seville, who having no money cannot pay for better accommodation, and by whom I should have been stripped naked in a moment as a matter of course, as they are all in a state of raging hunger and utter destitution. I asked for a private cell, which I was told I might have if I could pay for it. I stated my willingness to pay anything which might be demanded, and was conducted to an upper ward, consisting of several cells and a corridor. Here I found six or seven prisoners who received me very civilly, and instantly procured me paper and ink for the purpose of writing to the consul. In less than an hour Mr. Williams arrived and I told him my story, at which he wondered, as he well might, and presently departed in order to demand redress of the authorities. The next morning I was informed that the ruffian the Alcalde had upon his own authority entered my house and searched for prohibited books, hoping, if he found any, to justify to a certain degree his conduct to me. He found none, and is now quite in my power, without a shadow of excuse—he having entered by force the house of a foreigner, without authority, and not in the presence of the consul of the nation. I have now been here four-and-twenty hours, and am assured that my liberation will have been effectuated before another day shall have passed over. My fellow-prisoners have treated me with unbounded kindness and hospitality, and I have never found myself amongst more quiet and well-behaved men. Yet—what is their history? The handsome black-haired man who is now looking over my shoulder is the celebrated thief Palacio, the most expert housebreaker and dexterous swindler in Spain—in a word, the modern Guzman Dalfarache. The brawny man who sits by the brasero of charcoal is Salvador, the highwayman of Ronda, who has committed a hundred murders. A fashionably dressed man, short and slight in person, is walking about the room: he wears immense whiskers and mustachios; he is one of that most singular race the Jews of Spain; he is imprisoned for counterfeiting money. He is an atheist, but like a true Jew the name which he most hates is that of Christ. Yet he is so quiet and civil, and they are all so quiet and civil, and it is that which most horrifies me, for quietness and civility in them seem so unnatural.