The wards are charmingly large and airy, and lined with gay "azulejos." The kitchen is large and spacious, with a curious roof, supported by a single pillar in the middle. Over the president's chair, in the Sala Capitular, is the original portrait of Don Miguel Mañara, by his friend Valdés Leal, and, at the side, a cast taken of his face after death, presented to the confraternity by Vicentelo de Leca. Both have the same expression of dignity and austerity, mingled with tenderness, especially about the mouth; and the features have a strong resemblance to those of the great Condé. He died on May 19th, 1679, amidst the tears of the whole city, being only fifty-three years of age: but a nature such as his could not last long. A very interesting collection of his letters is still shown in the hospital, and his life has been lately admirably translated into French by M. Antoine de Latour.
The "Sacré Coeur" have established themselves lately in Seville, through the kindness of the Marquesa de V——, and are about to open a ladies' school—which is very much needed—on the site of a disused Franciscan convent. The archbishop has given them the large church adjoining the convent; and it was almost comical to see the three or four charming sisters, who are beginning this most useful and charitable work, singing their benediction alone in the vast chancel, until the building can be got ready for the reception of their pupils.
Another convent visited by the ladies of the party was that of Sta. Ines, which stands in a narrow street near the church of St. Felipe Neri. The great treasure of this convent is the body of Sta. Maria Coronel, which remains as fresh and as life-like as if she had died but yesterday. Her history is a tragical one. Pedro the Cruel, falling madly in love with her great beauty, condemned her husband, who was governor of the Balearic Islands, to an ignominious death; but then, with a refinement of cruelty, promised his pardon to his wife on condition that she would yield to his passion. Maria Coronel, preferring death to dishonor, permitted the execution of her husband, and fled for refuge to this convent, where the king, violating all rights, human and divine, pursued her. One night he penetrated into her cell. Maria, seeing no other mode of escape, seized the lamp which burnt on the table before her, and poured the boiling oil over her face, thus destroying her beauty for ever. The king, enraged and disappointed, relinquished his suit; and the poor lady lived and died in the convent. In the library of the university is an ancient MS. describing Pedro the Cruel as "tall, fair, good-looking, and full of spirit, valor, and talent!" but his execrable deeds speak for themselves. The curious thing is, that the marks of the boiling oil are as clearly seen on Maria Coronel's face now as on the day when the heroic deed was committed. The sisters of this convent are dressed in blue, with a long black veil, and their cloisters contain some very curious pictures and relics.
The most interesting visit, however, paid by one of the party in Seville, was to the strictly enclosed convent of Sta. Teresa, to enter which the English lady had obtained special papal permission. Of the sorrows and perils which St. Theresa experienced in founding this house, she herself speaks in writing to her niece, Mary of Ocampo: "I assure you that of all the persecutions we have had to endure, none can bear the least comparison with what we have suffered at Seville." [Footnote 185]
[Footnote 185: For both this and other quotations regarding St. Theresa's foundations, the writer is indebted to the charming life of the saint published by Hurst & Blackett in 1865, and which, from its wonderful truth and accuracy, is a perfect handbook to anyone visiting the Carmelite convents of Spain. She trusts that its author will forgive her for having, often unintentionally, used her actual expressions in speaking of places and of things, from the impossibility of their being described by an eye-witness in any other manner.]
Suffering from violent fever, calumniated by one of her own postulants, denounced to the inquisition, persecuted incessantly by the fathers of the mitigated rule, with no prospect of buying a house, and no money for the purchase, the saint could yet find courage to add; "Notwithstanding all these evils, my heart is filled with joy. What blessed things are peace of conscience and liberty of soul!" It reminds one of another occasion, when it was necessary to begin a foundation which was to cost a great, deal of money, and the saint had but twopence-halfpenny. "Never mind," she replied courageously, "twopence halfpenny and Theresa are nothing; but twopence-halfpenny and God are everything!" And the work was accomplished. In the case of the Seville house her patience and faith met with a like reward. On the Feast of the Ascension, 1576, the blessed sacrament was placed in the chapel of the new convent by the archbishop himself, accompanied by all his clergy, who wished to make public amends to St. Theresa and her nuns for the persecutions they had endured; and when Theresa knelt to ask for his pastoral benediction, the archbishop, in the presence of all the people, knelt to ask for hers in return, thus testifying to the high estimation in which he held both her and her work.
It was this convent, untouched since those days of trial, which our visitors now entered. There are twenty two sisters, of whom three are novices, and their rule is maintained in all its primitive severity. They keep a perpetual fast, living chiefly on the dried "cabala," or stockfish, of the country, and only on festivals and at Easter tide allowing themselves eggs and milk.
They have no beds, only a hard mattress, stuffed with straw; this, with an iron lamp, a pitcher of water, a crucifix, and a discipline, constitutes the only furniture of each cell, all of which are alike. One or two common prints were pasted on the walls, and over the doors hung various little ejaculations: "Jesu, superabundo gaudio;" "O crux! ave, spes unica!" "Domine, quid me vis facere?" or else a little card in Spanish, like the following, which the English lady carried off with her as a memorial: