Such being the condition of the Spanish government, we are naturally led to ask ourselves, “What are its prospects?” Is it to be expected that a government, without one element either of virtue or of strength—without the physical strength that may long support a bad government—and without the moral strength of virtue, will be able long to maintain itself? One naturally answers,—“No,” the thing cannot be; the whole system requires ploughing up, and it is impossible that there should not be a change, and that speedily!! But the question is, what change? After the French revolution broke out, a change of government in Spain was generally expected throughout both France and England; but the expectations upon this subject were certainly grounded upon an erroneous notion of the state of public feeling in Spain. I have no party to serve in giving my opinion; it is formed, I think, without prejudice, upon what I have seen and heard while in the country; and I feel a confident persuasion, that the change hoped for by every friend of mankind, is still at a distance; and that the present government must yield to the strongest of the two parties that seek its downfal. Spain, I believe, has yet to pass through a fiery trial, before her days of freedom and happiness arrive: the change first to be expected, is one from despotism and weakness to greater despotism and greater strength: and this will be a new reign of terror. I am not stating my own opinion merely, but the opinion of the most thinking and best informed classes in Spain—liberals, as well as Carlists and royalists. With many, it is a miracle that the party of Carlists have not, long ere now, obtained the upper hand; a fact only to be accounted for, from the uncertainty that prevails as to the sentiments of the army. I recollect reading, in one of the French or English newspapers, a statement, that about the time the constitutionalists prepared to enter Spain, the minister sent for the different commanding officers of the guards stationed in Madrid, and demanded of them whether they could answer for their respective regiments; and that the reply was, they could answer for themselves only: this statement was true, but the interpretation put upon the answer was erroneous. The government had at that time greater fears of the Carlists than of the Constitutionalists; and the meaning of the officers, when they said they could answer only for themselves, was not—according to the interpretation annexed to the statement—that the troops were supposed to be of liberal sentiments, but that it was feared they might be attached to the Carlists. The conspiracy for elevating that party,—detected during the autumn,—cannot be supposed to have crushed it. I know that after that period, meetings of its partizans were regularly held; the intrigues of the clergy still continued in active operation; and subsequently to that period, the birth of a princess left the male succession open to the sons of Don Carlos.
That the probabilities of a change to greater in place of to less despotism, may be more obvious, not only the strength and influence of parties must be looked to, but also the peculiarities of Spanish character. Viewing the present state of Spain, there appears to exist a necessity for a more enlightened government; and one with difficulty persuades himself of the probability of a revolution which would pull down one despotic government to raise another more despotic in its place. But an Englishman would judge very erroneously of the prospects of Spain, who should measure Spanish feeling by his own; and considering what the people of England would do under similar circumstances, conclude that Spain will do likewise. The Spanish government will fall by its weakness, rather than by its vices; it is the prospect of a stronger, not of a more virtuous government, that incites the exertions of the Carlists. The mass of the population of Spain take little heed of the vices of the government, and are entirely indifferent about political privileges. The Basque provinces, which are the most enlightened, have little to complain of; for they enjoy a multitude of privileges and exemptions which are well defined, and jealously maintained: and as for the Spaniard of the southern provinces,—give him his shade in summer, and his sunshine in winter; his tobacco, his melon, his dates, his bread, and his wine; give him a hole to creep into, and put him within sound of a convent bell, and he asks no more: or if you rise a degree or two in society, and speak of the respectable peasant, then give to him his embroidered jacket, his tasseled hat, his guitar, and his maja, (sweetheart, in the dialect of Andalusia), and it is matter of indifference to him, whether Spain be ruled by a Caligula or a Titus.
The love of ease and pleasure, and the proneness to indolence that distinguish the character of the Spaniard, especially in the provinces south of Castile; and his total ignorance of the uses and nature of political freedom, will yet, for many years, prove a barrier to the progress of free institutions in the Peninsula. It is true that this contentedness with his condition,—this unripeness for political freedom,—this ignorance of the claims of his species, ought not to be alleged as any reason against the attempt to force free institutions upon him. It is that very ignorance, that unripeness, that false contentedness, that hasten the necessity for revolution; because instruction, without which no country can be rendered fit for the enjoyment of political rights, could never carry its light to the people, under a government like that of Spain.
A series of attempts to establish liberal institutions in Spain may be necessary, before it be found possible to sustain them; but I believe that every new attempt will be attended with fewer obstacles. The most unsuccessful struggle against despotism, must produce good effects: accordingly, I do not agree in opinion with those who contend, that the movements of 1812 and 1820, retrograded the cause of liberty. It is certain, indeed, that the Spanish liberals then attempted impossibilities; they based the constitution upon principles of liberty, which Spain, nursed so long in despotism, was unable to support; yet the glimpse which Spain then caught of the light of freedom,—the knowledge that was conveyed through the medium of a free press to every part of the kingdom, and especially to all ranks in the metropolis,—and the unrestrained interchange of sentiment, opened the eyes of many, and prepared all, for a future and wiser attempt. Such an attempt may yet be at some distance; a more despotic, but a more vigorous government, may be able to repress, for some years, the declaration of principles hostile to those by which it is maintained: but opinion will advance nevertheless; and the epoch will certainly arrive in the history of Spain,—as it must in all countries in which government stands still,—when men’s opinions, which change, clash with institutions which change not.
The attempt upon the Spanish frontier which followed the revolution in France, would scarcely deserve notice, but for the ignorance which it shewed of the state of public feeling in Spain. I was then in Madrid; and I think I may venture to say, that this movement created less sensation in Spain than in any other country in Europe. An attempt far better organized, could not at that time have met with any success. The plans of the Carlists were then advancing; and the party was becoming every day more a subject of embarrassment and alarm to the government; but the views of that party were a sufficient security against the designs of the other, whose ascendancy would at once have annihilated the hopes of the Carlists. It was therefore sufficiently obvious, that if the aspect of things on the frontier became formidable, the interest of the Carlists would lie in strengthening the hands of government. But all the well-informed classes, of whatever party, looked upon the attempt as ill advised, and certain of failure. I conversed at that time with many persons of liberal sentiments, who, with scarcely an exception, deprecated the attempt as rash and useless; and expressed deep regret that so many unfortunate men should expose themselves to the merciless policy of the government. It was well known, that both the Basque Provinces and Catalunia,—the two points at which the entry was made,—were to be depended upon for their loyalty, or their ultraism—sentiments alike hostile to the liberals. The Basque Provinces, which enjoy peculiar privileges, were the least interested in the liberal cause; and Catalunia, one of the strong-holds of the Carlists, was governed by the Conde de España, whose great experience, staunch loyalty, and decided character, are always considered a guarantee for the tranquillity of Catalunia. It was never contemplated by the Spanish Government, to meet the attempt by any other weapon than force; and even if the strength of the Constitutionalists had been far more formidable, and their success far more probable, conciliatory measures would have been impossible; it is perfectly understood that any act of the government savouring of liberalism, would at once be sealing it over to the power of the Carlists.
The result was as all had anticipated: no indication of favourable feeling, on the part of the peasantry, attended the movements of the invading force; and without this, it was impossible that it could maintain itself. The events that took place upon the frontier, were probably better known in England than in Spain: at all events, it does not fall in with my object to enter into a detail of them.
CHAPTER X.
THE ESCURIAL—ST. ILDEFONSO—SEGOVIA.
Journey from Madrid; First View of the Escurial; Philip II.; Situation of the Escurial; the Church; Lucas Jordan; the Relics; the Santa Forma; the Sacristy and its Pictures; a Reverie; the Hall of Recreation; the Library; the Tomb of the Kings; the Manuscript Library; Ignorance and Idleness of the Monks, and Anecdotes; Manner of Life among the Monks; the Palace; Particulars of the Extent and Cost of the Escurial; Pedestrian Journey across the Sierra Guaderrama to St. Ildefonso; the Palace, Waters, and Garden of La Granja; Road to Segovia; its Remains, and Present Condition; Expensiveness of Royal Honours; Return to Madrid.
Before leaving Castile for Andalusia, I made two excursions, to objects well deserving a visit,—the Escurial and Toledo. To the former of these, I shall dedicate the present chapter.
Having hired a mule and a guide, I left Madrid one charming morning, before day-break; and passing out of the city by the gate de San Vincente, I proceeded up the bank of the river Manzanares along a good road, bordered on both sides by poplars and willows. From this road, the palace is a striking and beautiful object; and the sun rising shortly after I had passed the gate, its blaze reflected from the innumerable windows, produced a magnificent and almost magical effect. A league from the city, the road, crossing the river, leaves the stripe of scanty herbage that borders it, and enters upon the wide arid country, that extends all the way to the foot of the Sierra Guaderrama. Travelling in any direction from Madrid, there is little to narrate; the country is wholly devoid of interest; there is scarcely any population; and no travellers are seen on the road, to relieve its monotony, or attract the attention.