MONTSERRAT.
“Here, ’midst the changeful scenery, ever new,
Fancy a thousand wond’rous forms descries,
More wildly great than ever pencil drew;
Rocks, torrents, gulfs, and shapes of giant size,
And glittering cliffs on cliffs, and fiery ramparts rise.”—Beattie.
This Spanish mountain, which has been so long celebrated on account of the singularity of its shape, but chiefly for its convent and its numerous hermitages, is nine leagues north-west of Barcelona, in the province of Catalonia. It is in hight only three thousand, three hundred feet above the level of the sea, but it commands an enchanting prospect of the fine plain of Barcelona, extending to the sea, as well as of the islands of Majorca and Minorca, distant one hundred and fifty miles.
Toward Barcelona this mountain presents a bold and rugged front; but on the west, toward Vacarisas, it is almost perpendicular, notwithstanding which, a carriage-road winds round to the convent, which is placed in a sheltered recess among the rocks, at about half the hight of the mountain. The Llobregat roars at the bottom; and the rock presents perpendicular walls from the edge of the water: but above the convent, the mountain divides into two crowns or cones, which form the most prominent features; while smaller pinnacles, blanched and bare, and split into pillars, pipes, and other singular shapes, give a most picturesque effect. Here are seen fourteen or fifteen hermitages, which are scattered over different points of the mountain, some of them on the very pinnacles of the cones, to which they seem to grow, while others are placed in cavities hewn out of the loftiest pyramids. The highest accessible part of the mountain is above the hermitage of St. Maddelena, the descent from which is between two cones, by a flight of steps, called Jacob’s ladder, leading into a valley which runs along the summit of the mountain. The cones are here in the most grotesque shapes, the southern one being named the Organ, from its resemblance to a number of pipes.
At the extremity of this valley, which is a perfect shrubbery, and on an eminence, stands the hermitage of St. Jerome, the highest and most remote of all; and near it is the loftiest station of the whole mountain, on which is a little chapel dedicated to the Virgin. From this elevated pinnacle the prospect is vast and splendid.
Although the elements have wreaked all their fury on these shattered peaks, yet Nature has not been sparing in her gifts; the spaces between the rocks being filled up with close woods, while numerous evergreens, and other plants, serve to adorn the various chasms, rendering them valuable depositories of the vegetable kingdom. Few, indeed, are the evergreens of Europe which may not be found here; and when the mountain was visited by Mr. Swinburne, the apothecary of the convent had a list of four hundred and thirty-seven species of plants, and forty of trees, which shoot up spontaneously, and grace this hoary and venerable pile. There being two springs only on the mountain, there is a scarcity of water, which is chiefly collected in cisterns; an inconvenience, however, which is in a great measure counterbalanced by the absence of wolves, bears, and other wild beasts.