LETTER XXIX.
I forgot to tell you that, though I left the Convent, I had no desire to leave the spot where I had met with so cordial a reception; nor a mountain, every part of which afforded so many scenes of wonder and delight. I therefore hired two rooms at a wretched posada, near the two ancient towers below, and where I had left my horse, that I might make my daily excursions on and about the mountain, as well as visit those little solitary habitations above once more. My host, his wife, and their son and daughter, looked rather cool upon us; they liked our money better than our company; and though I made their young child some little presents, it scarce afforded any return, but prevented rudeness, perhaps. The boys of the village, though I distributed a little money every day to the poor, frequently pelted me with stones, when they gained the high ground of me; and I found it necessary, when I walked out, to take my fuzee. I would have made a friend of the priest, if I could have found him, but he never appeared!—It was a poor village, and you may easily conceive our residence in such a little place, where no stranger ever staid above an hour, occasioned much speculation. My servant too (a French deserter) had neither the politeness nor the address so common to his countrymen; but I knew I was within a few hours of honest Pere Pascal; and while the hog, mule, and ass of my host continued well, I flattered myself I was not in much danger; had either of those animals been ill, I should have taken my leave; for if a suspicion had arose that an heretic was under their roof, they would have been at no loss to account for the cause or the calamity which had, or might befall them.—During my residence at this little posada, I saw a gaudy-dressed, little, ugly old man, and a handsome young woman, approach it; the man smiled in my face, which was the only smile I had seen in the face of a stranger for a fortnight; he told me, what he need not, that he was a Frenchman, and a noble Advocate of Perpignan; that his name was Anglois, and that his ancestors were English; that he had walked on foot, with his maid, from Barcelona, in order to pay his devotions to the Holy Virgin of Montserrat, though he had his own chaise and mules at Barcelona: he seemed much fatigued, so I gave him some chocolate, for he was determined, he said, to get up to the convent that night. During this interview, he embraced me several times, professed a most affectionate regard for me and my whole family; and I felt enough for him, to desire he would fix the day of his return, that I might not be out upon my rambles, and that he would dine and spend the evening with me; in which case, I would send him back to Barcelona in my cabriolet; all which he chearfully consented to; and having lent him my couteau de chasse, as a more convenient weapon on ass-back than his fine sword, we parted, reluctantly, for five days; that was the time this noble Advocate had allotted for making his peace with the Holy Virgin;—I say, his peace with the Holy Virgin; for he was very desirous of leaving his virgin with us, as she was an excellent cook, and a most faithful and trusty servant, both which he perceived we wanted; yet in spite of his encomiums, there was nothing in the behaviour of the girl that corresponded with such an amiable character: she had, indeed a beautiful face, but strongly marked with something, more like impudence than boldness, and more of that of a pragmatic mistress than an humble servant; and therefore we did not accept, what I was very certain, she would not have performed. I impatiently, however, waited their return, and verily believed the old man had bought his crimson velvet breeches and gold-laced waistcoat in honour of the Virgin, and that his visit to her was a pious one.—He returned to his time, and to a sad dinner indeed! but it was the best we could provide. He had lost so much of that vivacity he went up with, that I began to fear I had lost his friendship, or he the benediction of the Holy Virgin. Indeed, I had lost it in some measure, but it was transferred but a little way off; for he took the first favourable occasion to tell my wife, no woman had ever before made so forcible an impression upon him, and said a thousand other fine things, which I cannot repeat, without losing the esteem I still have for my countryman; especially as he did not propose staying only one night with us, nay, that he would depart the next morning de bon matin. During the evening, all his former spirits returned, as well as his affection for me: he told me, he suspected I wanted money, and if that was the case, those wants should be removed; so taking out a large parcel of gold duras, he offered them, and I am persuaded too, he would have lent or given them to me. I arose early, to see that my man and chaise were got in good order, to conduct so good a friend to Barcelona; but not hearing any thing of Monsieur Anglois, I directed my servant to go into his chamber, to enquire how he did;—my man returned, and said, that Madame was awake, but that Monsieur still sleeps. Madame! what Madame? said I!—Is it the young woman who came with him? I then found, what I had a little suspected, that the mountain virgin was not the only virgin to whom Monsieur Anglois made his vows. He soon after, however, came down, drank chocolate with us, and making a thousand professions of inviolable regard, he set off in my chaise for Barcelona; but I should have told you, not till he had made me promise to visit him at Perpignan, where he had not only a town, but country house, at my service.—All these professions were made with so much openness, and seeming sincerity, that I could not, nor did doubt it; and as I was determined then to leave that unhospitable country, and return to France, I gave him my passa-porte, to get it refreshed by the Captain-General at Barcelona, that I might return, and pass by the walls only of a town I can never think of but with some degree of pain, and should with horror, but that I now know there is one man lives in it, and did then,[D] who has lamented that he had not an opportunity to shew me those acts of hospitality his nature and his situation often give him occasion to exercise; but the etiquette is, for the stranger to visit first; and I found but little encouragement to visit a German Gentleman, though married to an English Lady, after the hostile manners I had experienced from my friends and countrymen, Messrs. Curtoys, Wombwell, &c.
LETTER XXX.
In the archives of Montserrat they shew you a letter written to the Abbe by King Philip the second, who begins, "venerable and devout Religieux," and tells him, he approves of his zeal, of his building a new church at Montserrat, charges him to continue his prayers for him, and, to shew his zeal for that holy house, informs him, that the bearer of his letter is Etienne Jordan, the most famous sculptor then in Spain, who is to make the new altar-piece at the King's expence, and they agreed to pay Jordan ten thousand crowns for the design he laid before them: the altar was made at Valladolid, and was brought to Montserrat on sixty-six waggons; and as Jordan did much more to the work than he had engaged to perform, the King gave him four thousand crowns over and above his agreement, and afterwards gave nine thousand crowns more, to gild and add further ornaments to it.
At the death of Philip the Second, his son, Philip, the Third, assisted in person to remove the image of the Virgin from the old to the new church; which I shall hereafter mention more fully. Before this noble altar, in which the figure of the Virgin stands in a nitch about the middle of it, are candlesticks of solid silver, each of which weighs eighty pounds; they are a yard and a half high; and yet these are mere trifles, when compared to the gold and jewels which are shewn occasionally.
The monks observe very religiously their statutes; nor is there a single hour in the day that you find the church evacuated.—I always heard at least two voices chanting the service, when the monks retire from the church, which is not till seven o'clock at night; the pilgrims continue there in prayer the greater part of the night.