Autobiography of Sir John Rennie, F.R.S., Past President of the Institute of Civil Engineers / Comprising the history of his professional life, together with reminiscences dating from the commencement of the century to the present time.

by Sir John Rennie

Having now viewed everything worth seeing in the city, I determined to see something of the environs, and accordingly asked Downie to accompany me to Toledo; and as politics were very uncertain, I thought it better to be doubly armed with passports. I therefore got our minister, Sir G. Villiers, to verify mine, and also the minister of police, a very gentlemanly man, the Marquis of Viluma, who was unusually civil, and gave me a capital dinner and a special passport for Toledo.

The next morning at daybreak we started, with four horses, and were just leaving the town when we were stopped by a messenger running after us, who proved to be the servant of a lady whom I had met the day before at the Marquis de Viluma’s, and who was a niece of the Archbishop of Toledo. She had sent her servant with a letter of introduction for us to her uncle the Archbishop, for which we were thankful, as it is rather difficult to obtain permission to see all the different objects, such as the treasury. Accordingly we started off afresh over a very wild country, with a very indifferent road, or rather none, and reached Toledo about noon. We immediately went to the cathedral, which is a very rich and imposing Gothic edifice, and although we did not see the archbishop, who was not there, yet the dean most kindly showed us everything, particularly the treasury, which was replete with a most gorgeous collection of vestments, mitres adorned with precious stones, silver croziers, gold and silver chalices, cups and basins and priestly utensils without number. We then went and paid our respects to civil and military governors, and got an order to see the Royal Sword Manufactory, which formerly was celebrated throughout Europe for its excellent blades, which were said to be equal to those of Damascus, but had for some time past been rapidly on the decline; there were some two or three hundred men employed where I was, but they were making only ordinary blades for the army. Having seen everything, and perambulated this curious old city, which was in anything but a thriving state, we returned to the fonda or hotel, miserable as it was, to our dinner, previous to starting for Aranjuez.

We had just done dinner when an officer of police made his appearance, and said very politely that the civil governor wished to see me. I said that I had already seen him, and paid my respects, and shown my passport; I asked if anything was wrong with it. He said no, then went away, and again returned, saying the civil governor must see me. I again asked if the passport was right. He said perfectly. Then I said that I thought the governor’s conduct was extraordinary, and I declined going. Two more police officers then came, and said that the gates of the city were closed to me, and that I should not leave without first going to the civil governor. My friend Downie then got alarmed, and said that he would go with the officers, see the civil governor and explain matters. He accordingly went, and asked the civil governor what he meant. The governor replied that he was surrounded by Carlists, and he was obliged to be constantly on his guard, for fear of an insurrection; but he had been informed that I had brought a private letter to the archbishop, who was the greatest Carlist in the place, and he must know what that letter contained. Fortunately it was open, and both Downie and I had read it before delivering it, and it was nothing more than a request that we might be shown everything in the cathedral. With this explanation the governor was perfectly satisfied, and dispensed with my personal attendance, which I was glad of, and determined to carry no more introductory letters, for at that time it was most dangerous to both parties. Off we started, but were stopped at the city gates, at which we were both much annoyed, and being determined that we would stand this annoyance no longer, were just going to force our way through, when a messenger from the governor told them to let us go, and off we galloped as hard as possible.

Before leaving Madrid I visited some of the convents, though with great difficulty, for a short time before my arrival the mob, in a fit of revolutionary excitement, had attacked several of them, and murdered many of the unfortunate inmates, whilst the rest were obliged to fly for their lives. When I applied for admission it was refused, until learning that I was an Englishman, they opened the outer gates, which had been well secured, and admitted me, and a melancholy spectacle I beheld. Very few of the monks remained, and those that I saw had their heads and arms bandaged up on account of the wounds they had received. A great deal of property had been destroyed, and a still greater quantity had been stolen; in fact everything had a most wretched and desolate appearance. Shortly afterwards the whole of the convents and religious establishments for monks and nuns were shut up by order of the government, and all the property was seized for the benefit (?) of the nation.

Leaving Madrid with several others, we proceeded to France viâ Saragossa and Barcelona, as the direct route through Bayonne was of course quite impracticable. Barcelona was then, and is now, taking it altogether, the finest and most thriving town in the peninsula, and may be called the Manchester of Spain. It is situated on the shore of the Mediterranean, in a rich fertile plain, backed by a lofty range of mountains about three or four miles distant. The central streets are very narrow, but the Marina and artificial harbour, with the fine spacious quays by which they are surrounded, have a noble effect, although the mole, a fine work as it undoubtedly is, has been badly designed with respect to the currents and the great quantity of alluvial matter held in suspension by the waters, and carried along the shore from the deltas and mouths of the Hobugal and Ebro. The consequence is, that the space covered by the mole is constantly filling up, and requires incessant dredging at great expense; notwithstanding which, the trade is so great that the harbour is always more or less full of shipping, and besides its manufactures of cotton and silk, it exports largely wine, oil, bark, fruits, and timber.

I made an excursion with my servant to the celebrated convent of Monte Serrata, situated upon the mountain of that name, about 30 miles to the west of Barcelona; starting early in the morning, and stopping at the bridge of Mastoul across the Hobugal, about 15 miles from Barcelona. Here I enjoyed, from below the bridge, one of the most interesting and beautiful views, I think, that I ever beheld. Facing me was the bridge, consisting of two Gothic arches; the south one was the largest I ever saw, being about 140 feet span. On the north side of the bridge was a Roman arch, in tolerable preservation, except the cornice; and on the south side of the bridge were the remains of a Moorish fort. Thus I had before me, at one coup d’œil, the ruined works of three great nations; in the distance was the convent of Montserrat, perched upon the mountain side, with its numerous pinnacles rising above it, and these overtopped by the numerous lofty peaks of the Pyrenees behind. Whilst examining the bridge, I perceived on a sudden a large body of troops, with several mounted officers, rapidly approaching; upon inquiring the cause, I was told by an officer that I had better get out of the way as soon as possible, as there were a great many Carlists about, and they expected to be attacked every minute, as they had to defend the pass to prevent the Carlists from getting to Barcelona. I therefore went off at once to the convent. I left the carriage at the bottom of the mountain, at a small inn, and got a man to carry up our things; and having a letter to the worthy superior, was most hospitably received. They gave us a comfortable dinner. We then set out to examine the numerous hermitages which were perched upon different peaks of the mountain, which resembled the teeth of a saw, from which the hill takes its name. These hermitages consisted of a small hut, just large enough for the hermit’s bed, and table, and chair; here they remained winter and summer, and only occasionally descended to the convent. All the hermitages were empty, the hermits had fled, and there were scarcely a dozen monks in the convent. Whilst climbing about the mountain I observed several Carlist scouts, well armed, lurking about, and I saw others at a distance—no doubt they were part of the attacking force expected at Barcelona; they, however, did not molest me, and I was too happy to leave them alone. The view from the mountain all round is very fine; all the leading valleys are filled with manufacturing towns and villages, amongst the principal of which was Manresa, in the valley immediately below us. We got back to the convent soon after dark, where the prior had ordered us a good supper, and afterwards invited me to his apartments, where he gave an excellent concert, which was very well executed by the choristers and monks attached to the convent. I soon found out that the prior and all around him were most devoted partisans of Don Carlos, and wished the Christinos and all revolutionists to perdition, to which place they said they would be most assuredly consigned. Knowing that I was an Englishman, and being recommended to him, he felt himself perfectly at home with me, and seemed to be tolerably well informed about English politics: he understood perfectly well the difference between Whigs, Tories, and Radicals, and had not a doubt but that the good sense and talent of the Tories would soon upset the Whigs and Radicals; and so far he proved right; but he went on to say that they would assist the Spanish Carlists, and send all the Christinos and their wicked associates to the devil, where they ought to go; for the Catholic religion could never thrive and Spain never could prosper so long as the Christinos were triumphant. By this time I could get on tolerably well with Spanish. We conversed on various topics, and passed the evening very agreeably, as the prior was a very superior person, and really, considering that he was a Spanish priest, he was an enlightened man, and by no means bigoted. He said that no nation could prosper without religion; and according to his belief he considered that the Roman Catholic was the true faith; at the same time he did not mean to say that a person professing any other religion could not be saved, but that God in His great mercy would pardon their ignorance. We bade the prior good-night, thanking him much for his kindness, and retired to our dormitory, which was very cold and solitary, near the chapel: we had plenty of cloaks, which were indispensable; and I told my man to make a stiff glass of hot punch, not only for myself, but also for the worthy monks who attended us, and I took care that they should be offered supper; but although they had a glass of punch and a cigar, they would take no more. The night was very cold, the moon shone bright, and the stillness was remarkable. I awoke long before light, and heard the monks saying their matins; feeling it was cold, I got more covering, and again fell asleep. Awaking soon after eight o’clock, we got up, and had chocolate; then, making a handsome present to the poor-box, I retraced my steps downwards, and I must say that I never passed a more agreeable day. The scenery was magnificent; that alone was sufficient to recompense anyone for the journey; and in addition to this there was the visit to this great convent, at one time one of the most powerful in Spain, but now in its decadence, and its once powerful inmates degraded so far as to hope for deliverance from the formerly hated and persecuted heretics of England! It was a most singular sight; and it is still more extraordinary, that after a lapse of thirty-four years, these very Christinos, with the queen at their head, should now be persecuting all liberal Catholics, and again threatening the establishment of the Inquisition.

Leaving Barcelona, I traversed France, passing through Toulouse, Bordeaux, and Paris, and reached London in the beginning of 1834.

Although not strictly in chronological order, I will here mention one or two incidents which occurred to me shortly before, and which may be of interest. In the early part of 1831 the cholera visited England for the first time. Everybody was alarmed at its approach: it was a mysterious disease, nobody seemed to know much about it. They knew that it came from India, and that it was most fatal and capricious, sometimes attacking those on the mountains, and sometimes those on the plains; sometimes, in passing through towns and villages, carrying off in its strange and deadly course all those on one side of a street, leaving the other side untouched. It was making its way regularly from the East to the West, deviating rather northwards in its course, and hence it approached Europe by Russia, thence to the north of Germany. Its regular and gradual approach struck everyone with awe: we saw the enemy coming, but how to avoid or how to attack him nobody knew. The medical profession were completely at fault, all suggesting different remedies, each proposing what he considered his own specific, yet doubtful of the result. At last the dreaded mystery leaped across the German Ocean, and made its appearance in Sunderland, where it spread alarm and dismay far and wide. It then turned southward, and made its appearance in London, in the month of March, and numbers left the city, flying in all directions. The French, dreading its invasion, closed their ports, and placed England in quarantine, but in vain attempted to shut out the terrible malady, for, in two or three months apparently glutted with death, it jumped over the Channel into France, and became more virulent than ever. The French physicians, who had visited England during its prevalence, and thought they had acquired good knowledge of the disease and its treatment, were, if anything, more at fault than our own medical men; for the disease held them as it were in derision, and in Paris seven thousand fell victims in one day. I was attacked with it one morning in June, about four o’clock, with a sudden shock, and felt as if death had clutched me in his jaws. I had been some time previously thinking what I should do in the event of an attack, and consulted my medical advisers, but could elicit nothing satisfactory. I then made up my mind that, as the attacks of the disease were sudden and violent, the remedy must be something of the kind; and the most likely remedy, if any, appeared to me some strong stimulant, such as camphor, sal volatile, and opium, which, having previously been subject to diarrhœa, I had frequently tried with effect. I therefore always kept a mixture of this kind ready. Feeling the attack, I jumped out of bed and staggered to the table, took a strong dose, rang the bell violently, sent for my doctor directly, and went back to bed, and for an hour suffered terribly. I then became calmer, but excessively exhausted, and lay almost motionless. The doctor came about seven, when I was much better: he asked me what I had taken, and I told him: he then said, “I do not know that I should have prescribed exactly what you have taken, but the principle is correct,” and he gave me something of the same kind, but in a milder form. In a couple of days I was quite well, and I have ever since carried camphor, sal volatile, and opium with me; and subsequently, when travelling in Spain, Portugal, and Sweden during the prevalence of cholera, I frequently took these remedies myself, and administered them with success to others.

The same year I took a trip to Austria and the south of Germany, and attended the meetings of the scientific society, the Natur Geforsches, then being held at Vienna. I was well received, and made a member of the society; and there I made acquaintance with some of the most distinguished professors of Germany, and a most sociable set of gentlemen they were. The assemblage consisted of about three hundred; we dined every day together, and received much gratification and instruction. I attended the sections regularly, and there I saw the Austrian archdukes, distinguished for their scientific acquirements, who took part, and no mean one, in the discussions, without the least pretension, precisely upon the same footing as the other members; foremost amongst the rest was the celebrated Prince Metternich, then in the height of his power and consequence, as Prime Minister of Austria. He certainly was a very remarkable man; of the middle size, extremely good-looking, with an aquiline nose, sharp, intelligent eyes, a firmly compressed lip, a thoroughly gentlemanlike manner, a dignified appearance, complete self-command, and altogether impressing you with the idea that he was the great grandee and sovereign minister of the ancient and then all-powerful empire of Austria. Notwithstanding his high position, he attended sections in the most unassuming manner, like the most insignificant member present. He attended the different sections daily, and always sat amongst the crowd, not on the bench near the president, and took his share in the discussions as if he was a simple citizen, and any point that he happened to take up he well maintained. Having heard so much of the all-powerful Prince Metternich, I was rather astonished to see him act so amiable and distinguished a part in such a society. I was introduced to him, and was very kindly received. He opened his palace, and he and his distinguished and handsome consort, the Princess, received the whole of the members and their ladies with the greatest cordiality. I also was invited amongst the rest, and remarked that, although princes of the imperial family and the most distinguished nobles were present, I did not observe many of their ladies; and I was told by a friend, that as the ladies of the German professors could not afford to dress in the splendid style of the great Austrian ladies, these latter were excluded for fear of their eclipsing in dress the German professors’ wives. The Emperor Francis gave the Association a most magnificent entertainment at one of his palaces, Laxembourg, about 12 miles from Vienna. His Imperial Majesty sent sixty-five royal carriages, with outriders in uniform, to conduct the association to Laxembourg; and when we arrived there, we found sixty-five other imperial carriages, with servants in the imperial livery, to take us to the palace, and drive us about the park and environs to show us everything worth seeing. At three o’clock dinner was announced in the palace, and a most imperial dinner it was. Several of the archdukes, and Prince and Princess Metternich were there, with all the members and their ladies; and before sitting down to dinner the Prince said that His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Francis intended to have been present to receive the Association, but unfortunately His Majesty was very unwell, and was unable to attend; he therefore requested the Prince to apologise to them for his absence; His Majesty hoped that we would excuse his absence, and make ourselves as comfortable as if we were at home, which we certainly did, and a splendid affair it was. A magnificent band played during dinner, Tokay champagne flowed in abundance, and at five o’clock we started on our return to Vienna, conveyed in the same royal carriages and accompanied by the same escort of imperial servants that brought us to Laxembourg in the morning; in fact, it was impossible that anything could have been better done, or that royalty could have shown more respect or deference to science than was done to us.