A glance at Barcellona is sufficient to show, that we approach the frontier. We no longer see a purely Spanish population. Spanish hats are scarcely to be seen, nor is the mantilla altogether indispensible. In the buildings too, we perceive a difference; the streets are wider, and few of the houses are adorned with balconies. I thought too, but this might be fancy, that I could perceive a different expression in the countenances of the people. Of one thing I am certain, that although the women of Barcellona have not perhaps the grace of the Andalusians; their claims to beauty are stronger: their features are more regular, their complexions are clearer, their hair less coarse, and their forms slighter: still it must be admitted, that there is more witchery hid in the eye of an Andalusian, than perhaps in all the separate charms of a woman of Barcellona. No one, however, can walk along the streets, without perceiving in the female population, sufficient evidence of being no longer among a people exclusively Spanish. I found another peculiarity in the aspect of the Barcellona population—a peculiarity however, that refers only to the time I visited Barcellona. No caps were to be seen: these, as well as grey hats, were forbidden, immediately upon the revolution breaking out in France. For my own part, I continued to wear my grey hat while in Barcellona, without being challenged; but I have good reason to believe, that this forbearance arose from the authorities knowing that I had the honour of being acquainted with the Conde de España, the ruler, and dictator of Catalunia. But the strange, and gaudy dress of the Catalunian peasantry is the most striking peculiarity in the appearance of the Barcellona population: all wear their red caps, which hang at least a foot down their backs; and with their crimson girdles, and gaudy coloured woollen plaids, they give a peculiar grotesqueness to the appearance of the Rambla—the principal street of Barcellona—which is almost always crowded.
Barcellona is particularly fortunate in its promenades; the Rambla is scarcely inferior to the Boulevards of Paris; and there is a charming walk round the whole of the ramparts; every moment the view changes, sometimes looking towards the huerta, and sometimes towards the mountains, with the villages, and country houses of the merchants lying under them; sometimes towards the hill and fortress of Monjuich; and sometimes towards the sea; and that part of the promenade which is above the sea, is without exception, the finest promenade in any city I have ever seen. Barcellona would be better without its fortifications; for owing to them, the city has been confined within too narrow bounds; and the whole space within the walls, is filled up with houses, in place of (as in other Spanish cities) gardens mingling with the buildings, and adding both to the beauty and the healthfulness of the place. The fortifications of Barcellona are of little real use to it. I was informed by the commander of the citadel, that the city could not maintain a siege of one week, against a sufficiently well appointed army; nor could the occupation of it be maintained for one day, if the citadel or Monjuich were in possession of an enemy.
The day after my arrival in Barcellona, I was presented to the Conde de España, a man who has made himself to be respected by some, and feared by all; owing to the promptness, decision, and tyranny of the measures by which he has from time to time put down the most formidable insurrections; and owing also to the influence which he has more than once shewn he has the power of wielding, over the determinations, and the actions of the king. No man has more enemies than the Conde de España, both at court, and in the province which he governs; and constant attempts are made in the highest quarters, to remove him from his government, and from the confidence of his royal master. The Archbishop of Toledo is his bitterest enemy, and has never forgotten the insult he put upon the dignitaries of the church, in the year 1827; but the king knows that whatever his faults may be, they are faults that prove him to be a zealous and faithful servant; and the fittest man to govern the turbulent Catalunians; and when upon a late occasion, the Duke del Infantado strongly urged upon the king, the unpopularity of the Conde de España, and the propriety of removing him, his majesty cut the matter short by saying, “I wish I had a Conde de España in every province;” one of the most sensible things the king ever said, if he wishes to preserve his authority.
The Conde de España is not very easy of access; he is seldom seen, though his presence is always felt; his system of government is secret; and in the province of Catalunia, it may be said to have come in place of the inquisition,—with instruments as numerous and as masked, with power as unanswerable, with measures as prompt, and sometimes as unjustifiable, and with a bolder heart and a stronger head to direct the machine. It was a mere chance whether I should be admitted to an audience: indeed, no one in Barcellona knows, whether he be in the city or not. The parade takes place before his residence, and the guards are mounted at his gate every morning, but this is no proof that he is within. The Conde was at home however; and the names of his Britannic Majesty’s Consul, and English gentleman, were passed inward. We walked into an anti-room where a Spanish general, and several other persons were waiting. How long they might have preceded us I cannot tell, but in a few minutes, we were informed that the Conde would see us; and we were conducted through a long suite of magnificent apartments, and ushered by an aide-de-camp, into a little mean dirty parlour, without a bit of matting to cover the brick floor, the walls white washed, a wood fire almost burnt out, and the furniture consisting of one small table, and two or three chairs. There sat the Conde de España, writing, or, at least, signing his name to a number of papers. He immediately rose, and received us with the utmost curtesy, made us sit down, and asked me some particulars of my journey, and in what state I had found Spain. I told him, what I really believed to be true, that Spain was at that time, the most tranquil country in Europe; and that I had no where found the slightest indication of commotion. This reply was no doubt gratifying: the Conde ordered wine and segars, and the conservation took a more general turn. He spoke of France, and said he considered it hastening towards republicanism. He then spoke of himself, his conduct, and his enemies; and said, that as a private individual, he always acted justly, and morally right; but as a public man, he clothed himself with a garment of policy,—an ingenious, but not a new apology for the commission of iniquity. I remained about a quarter of an hour; and when I took leave, he did me the honour to offer me the freedom of the royal box at the opera; and also to invite me to his country seat, where he said he spent much of his time, for that to be respected, (he meant feared) one must not be seen too often. The Conde appears to be about fifty, he is rather under the middle size, and somewhat lusty; his head and face are large, and his eyes expressive of much. One may read in them, violent passions, penetration, reflection, and cunning.
The character of the Conde de España has been variously represented. All admit, however, that he is a man of most determined and fearless character; and that Catalunia, which, to be preserved in tranquillity in these perilous times, requires to be ruled with a rod of iron, could not be entrusted to any man better qualified to wield it. When he first took upon him the government of the province, he committed many oppressive acts; some of which I have related in the chapter entitled “State of Parties,” consisting, for the most part, in banishment without trial; and even in some instances, carried so far as secret execution. This was soon after the fall of the constitution; and some apologists of the Conde excuse these proceedings upon the plea of political necessity; an expression that, in my mind, involves a sophism, because I do not believe that the moral government of the universe can ever include in it a necessity for doing evil.
The government of the Conde de España has sanctioned many lesser acts of inquisitorialness and oppression. Several despotic orders were issued immediately upon the French revolution breaking out: ever since that time, no greater number than four persons are permitted to dine together in a coffee-house; nor are politics allowed to form the subject of conversation in any house open to the public; and it is believed, that the Conde is not entirely ignorant of the conversation that passes in many private houses also. He has even had the boldness to interfere with the usages of the church, by interdicting the celebration of the midnight mass in the cathedral, at Christmas; probably, because he disliked the assemblage of so great a number of persons during the night: but, of course, mass was permitted to be celebrated in a more private way. The strictness of the Conde extends also to morals: all houses of ill-fame are suppressed, and instances occurred, even while I was in Barcellona, of inquisitorial strictness in more private matters relating to morals. Dining one day in company, one of the gentlemen at table received a message while at dinner, which he immediately attended to, and withdrew; I saw a smile pass round the table, and I afterwards learnt, that the occurrence was not unusual. The gentleman had a liaison with a chére amie, who lived in lodgings provided by him; but this the police would not permit; and, to escape their interference, these lodgings were changed every few days; and every few days he was questioned as to his secret, and obliged to pay a fine. This was the act of the police; and, although the police is not within the department of the Conde, who is captain-general, not civil governor of the province, yet it is well known that both the military and civil government are in his hands; and that the civil authorities do not move a step without his permission. Along with this strict surveillance of morals, the Conde’s own morals are irreproachable, and he neglects no opportunity of showing his regard for religion; he is present at all its public ceremonials; and assumes an air of the deepest devotion. This is doubtless to please the party of Carlists, who might otherwise prove dangerous. But with all these inquisitorial and tyrannical acts, even his enemies admit, that he is the only man who could have kept Catalunia tranquil: and peaceable-minded persons, however they may condemn the means by which the quiet of the province has been preserved, are satisfied with a government under which they feel a security against civil commotion.
It is a great mistake to suppose that the Conde de España is attached to the apostolical party; quite the reverse: he is a decided, thorough-going royalist, who will exert himself to the very uttermost for the preservation of the king’s government; and come when it may, a revolution in favour of either Carlists or liberal, the deadliest stand against it will be made in Catalunia, if the Conde de España be then captain-general. But, that he is no Carlist, is evident from his conduct in 1827, when he put that affront upon the bishops, which I have already said has been one means of securing the enmity of the Archbishop of Toledo. The circumstances are as follow:—In the latter part of 1827, when the Catalunian insurrection in favour of the Carlists took place, and when fifty thousand men in arms threatened the province with anarchy, and Barcellona with capture, the Conde de España represented to the king the necessity of his appearing in Catalunia; and after his majesty had arrived, he, by advice of the Conde, called a convocation of bishops, ostensibly to consult respecting the state of the province. The Conde well knew the connexion of the bishops with the plot; and was in possession of documents that proved their guilt. The Conde, as representing his majesty in that province, or by express delegation, presided; and all the bishops being assembled, he addressed them to this effect, if not almost in these words:—“My Lord Bishop,” said he, taking a paper from his pocket, and unfolding it, “you know this,”—and turning to another, and shewing another paper,—“and you, my Lord, know this,” and so on, producing documents that connected every one present with the conspiracy; “and now, gentlemen,” said he, addressing the assembly, “you perceive that I hold in my hands proofs of treason; you who have fomented this rebellion, can put it down; and I have instructions from his majesty, if the rebellion be not put down within forty-eight hours,—I am sorry for the alternative, gentlemen,—but my instructions are peremptory, to hang every one of you; and it will be a consolation for you to know, that the interests of the church shall not suffer, for the king has already named successors to the vacant sees.” This reasoning was effectual; the bishops knew the man they had to deal with; and within forty-eight hours, the insurrection was at an end. A man who threatens to hang a bench of bishops, cannot surely be called an apostolical.
At the same period, but before the council had been called, when Gerona was closely pressed by the insurgents, the bishop dispatched a letter to the Conde de España, saying, that it would be necessary to give up the city to the besiegers. The Conde, who very well knew how the inclinations of the bishop lay, and what were the defences of the city, but who also knew the influence possessed by him over the inhabitants, who might force the troops to give it up, wrote, in reply to the bishop, that his lordship being upon the spot, was no doubt best able to judge of the state of the city; and adding, that along with the letter which he had sent to the bishop, he had also sent instructions to Gerona, that when the enemy entered the gate, the first thing they should see, might be the gibbet of a traitor bishop.
It is generally understood that, but for the Conde de España, the French army would not have evacuated Spain; and that the king was brought down to Catalunia with this ultimate object. When the Conde was made captain-general, he refused to reside in Barcellona, because it was in possession of the French, and he established himself at Tarragona. He then advised the king to pay a visit to Barcellona, and obtained permission to write to the French authorities there to prepare for his majesty’s reception. To this the French general replied, that he would receive the king, but not any guards; and the Conde, who knew that such would be the reply, told the king that he was insulted; the king got angry, and refused to go to Barcellona, and even left Catalunia. The French general now suspected he had committed an error, and he sent for instructions; an ambassador was despatched in consequence to the king, who was then at Valencia, requesting to know what were his majesty’s wishes. The Conde de España had been busily employed in the meanwhile, priming Ferdinand to act with spirit; and when the king was asked what his wishes were, he replied that he wished the French army to evacuate Spain. The only pretext for the occupation of Spain, was to defend the king; and the king declaring that he wanted no defence, this pretext was at an end.
The Conde de España is of French extraction, but at an early age he entered into the service of Spain, and by his talents and zeal, he has raised himself to the highest honour that could have been conferred upon him,—in having received for his title the name of the country that conferred it. The count dislikes, or affects to dislike, every thing French, and likes, or affects to like, every thing English. He speaks English fluently, and few things are more disagreeable to him than to be addressed in the French language.