Italy; with sketches of Spain and Portugal Part 21

LETTER VIII.

The Chevalier de Roxas.--Excursion to the palace and gardens of the Buen Retiro.--The Turkish Amba.s.sador and his numerous train.--Farinelli's apartments. 305

LETTER IX.

The Museum and Academy of Arts.--Scene on the Prado.--The Portuguese Amba.s.sador and his comforters.--The Theatre.--A highly popular dancer.--Seguidillas in all their glory. 310

LETTER X.

Visit to the Escurial.--Imposing site of that regal convent.--Reception by the Mystagogue of the place.--Magnificence of the choir.--Charles the Fifth's organ.--Crucifix by Cellini.--Gorgeous ceiling painted by Lucca Giordano.--Extent and intricacy of the stupendous edifice. 314

LETTER XI.

Mysterious cabinets.--Relics of Martyrs.--A feather from the Archangel Gabriel's wing.--Labyrinth of gloomy cloisters.--Sepulchral cave.--River of death.--The regal sarcophagi. 323

LETTER XII.

A concert and ball at Senhor Pacheco's.--Curious a.s.semblage in his long pompous gallery.--Deplorable ditty by an eastern dilettante.--A bolero in the most rapturous style.--Boccharini in despair.--Solecisms in dancing. 329

LETTER XIII.

Palace of Madrid.--Masterly productions of the great Italian, Spanish, and Flemish painters.--The King's sleeping apartment.--Musical clocks.--Feathered favourites.--Picture of the Madonna del Spasimo.--Interview with Don Gabriel and the Infanta.--Her Royal Highness's affecting recollections of home.--Head-quarters of Ma.s.serano.--Exhibition of national manners there. 339

LETTER XIV.

A German Visionary.--Remarkable conversation with him.--History of a Ghost-seer. 349

LETTER XV.

Madame Bendicho.--Unsuccessful search on the Prado.--Kauffman, an infidel in the German style.--Ma.s.s in the chapel of the Virgin.--The d.u.c.h.ess of Alba's villa.--Destruction by a young French artist of the paintings of Rubens.--French amba.s.sador's ball.--Heir-apparent of the house of Medina Celi. 354

LETTER XVI.

Visit from the Turkish Amba.s.sador.--Stroll to the gardens of the Buen Retiro.--Troop of ostriches.--Madame d'Aranda.--State of Cortejo-ism.--Powers of drapery.--Madame d'Aranda's toilet.--a.s.sembly at the house of Madame Badaan.--Cortejos off duty.--Blaze of beauty.--A curious group.--A dance. 358

LETTER XVII.

Valley of Aranjuez.--The island garden.--The palace.--Strange medley of pictures.--Oratories of the King and the Queen.--Destruction of a grand apartment painted in fres...o...b.. Mengs.--Boundless freedom of conduct in the present reign.--Decoration of the d.u.c.h.ess of Ossuna's house.--Apathy pervading the whole Iberian peninsula. 365

LETTER XVIII.

Explore the extremities of the Calle de la Reyna.--Destructive rage for improvement.--Loveliness of the valley of Aranjuez.--Undisturbed happiness of the animals there.--Degeneration of the race of grandees.--A royal cook. 376

PORTUGAL.

PREFACE

TO

PORTUGUESE LETTERS.

Portugal attracting much attention in her present convulsed and declining state, it might not perhaps be uninteresting to the public to cast back a glance by way of contrast to the happier times when she enjoyed, under the mild and beneficent reign of Donna Maria the First, a great share of courtly and commercial prosperity.

March 1, 1834.

PORTUGAL.

LETTER I.

Detained at Falmouth.--Navigation at a stop.--An evening ramble.

Falmouth, March 6, 1787.

The gla.s.s is sinking; the west wind gently breathing upon the water, the smoke softly descending into the room, and sailors yawning dismally at the door of every ale-house.

Navigation seems at a full stop. The captains lounging about with their hands in their pockets, and pa.s.sengers idling at billiards. Dr. V---- has sc.r.a.ped acquaintance with a quaker, and went last night to one of their a.s.semblies, where he kept jingling his fine Genevan watch-chains to their sober and silent dismay.

In the intervals of the mild showers with which we are blessed, I ramble about some fields already springing with fresh herbage, which slope down to the harbour: the immediate environs of Falmouth are not unpleasant upon better acquaintance. Just out of the town, in a sheltered recess of the bay, lies a grove of tall elms, forming several avenues carpeted with turf. In the central point rises a stone pyramid about thirty feet high, well designed and constructed, but quite plain without any inscription; between the stems of the trees one discovers a low white house, built in and out in a very capricious manner, with oriel windows and porches, shaded by bushes of prosperous bay. Several rose-coloured cabbages, with leaves as crisped and curled as those of the acanthus, decorate a little gra.s.s-plat, neatly swept, before the door. Over the roof of this snug habitation I spied the skeleton of a gothic mansion, so completely robed with thick ivy, as to appear like one of those castles of clipped box I have often seen in a Dutch garden.

Yesterday evening, the winds being still, and the sun gleaming warm for a moment or two, I visited this spot to examine the ruin, hear birds chirp, and scent wall-flowers.

Two young girls, beautifully shaped, and dressed with a sort of romantic provincial elegance, were walking up and down the grove by the pyramid.

There was something so love-lorn in their gestures, that I have no doubt they were sighing out their souls to each other. As a decided amateur of this sort of _confidential promenade_, I would have given my ears to have heard their _confessions_.