On all occasions, and in every place I shall conscientiously adhere to truth. Let me say, for the last time I shall speak of myself, that no man ever entered Spain with a more conciliating disposition, and I hope I leave behind me some proof of patience.

Farewell! ever faithfully yours,

R. C."

In perusing Cumberland's narrative of his mission to Spain, the reader cannot fail to be struck with his evident anxiety to have it redound to the benefit of his country. His great mistake was in advancing into Spain at all, inasmuch as, under the circumstances, it was a violation of the letter of his instructions. He acted, however, as he conceived, for the advantage of his country. His error was of the head; and the ministry's refusal of payment for his services was a harsh and cruel return for all his sacrifices and endeavors. The mission to Spain, honorable in itself, was disastrous in its consequences, and embittered the remainder of Cumberland's life.

In addition to the causes which he assigns for its failure, the disturbances in London, and other untoward circumstances, it must not be forgotten that, amid all the tortuosities of Spanish diplomacy, and notwithstanding all its protestations and propositions, there was a strong desire to see British power humbled, and British supremacy overthrown. At the same time, the opinion prevailed that the American Revolution was a bad example to the Spanish colonies, and dangerous to Spain, as the United States, if they should become ambitious, and be seized with the spirit of conquest, might aim at Mexico and Peru. The court of Spain seem to have acted on the principle, either to make no treaty with the United States, until they had accomplished their independence, or to make important concessions to them the conditio sine qua non of a treaty, and consequent aid.

When Cumberland arrived at Madrid, he found there, as minister from the United States, John Jay, who had resigned his post of President of Congress, to accept this mission. The disclosures of Jay and Cumberland exhibit in a very striking light the craft and duplicity of Florida Blanca, and, indeed, of all the Spanish officials connected with the foreign office. While Cumberland was received and caressed in the manner he has described, 'it was given out, and Jay was officially informed, that Cumberland and his family were desirous of passing through Spain, to Italy; that the journey was undertaken on account of the ill health of a daughter, to whom the Duke of Dorset was much attached; that the opposition made by his friends to the marriage had affected her health, &c. The minister assured Jay that whatever proposals Mr. Cumberland might make, should be candidly communicated to him. It is needless, perhaps, to add that no such communication was made. The people, said Mr. Jay, supposed Cumberland's errand to be secret overtures for peace, and, as far as he could judge, were very glad of it. In truth, the war with England was very unpopular with the Spaniards. They appear to me,' wrote Jay, 'to like the English, hate the French, and to have prejudices against us.' -Flanders' Lives and Times of the Chief Justices, p. 298.

Whatever the sentiments of the Spanish people, the Spanish court had different objects to accomplish. They cajoled and deceived Cumberland, and their conduct towards Jay was marked by treachery and duplicity. With the desire to curtail British power, was associated the fear that the independence of America might be prejudicial to Spain. But whatever might betide, the Spanish ministry were anxious so to shape their conduct that Spain should profit from whatever turn affairs might take.

DEPARTURE FROM SPAIN.

277

CHAPTER IX.

Leaves Spain-Madrid-Progress and incidents of his homeward journey.

ON the 24th of March, 1781, having taken a last painful leave of the worthy Abbé Curtis and the rest of my friends, at half past ten in the forenoon I set out upon my journey. My party consisted of my wife, my two eldest daughters, and my infant daughter, born in Spain, at the breast of a Spanish nurse, a wild but affectionate creature, native of San Andero; the good Marchetti and the poor redeemed prisoner Anthony Smith accompanied us, and we had three English servants, two of which (Thomas Camis and Mary Sampson) had been in my family from their earliest years, and have never since served any other master. Two Spanish coaches, drawn by six mules each, with mules for our out-riders, constituted our travelling equipage, and I contracted for their attending upon us to Bayonne. They are heavy clumsy carriages, but they carry a great deal of baggage, and if the traveller has patience to put up with their very early hours and slow pace, there is nothing else to complain of.

Madrid, which may be considered as the capital of Spain, though it is not a city, disappoints you if you expect to find suburbs, or villas, or even gardens when you have passed the gates, being almost as closely environed with a desert as Palmyra is in its present state of ruin. The Spaniards themselves have no great taste for cultivation, and the attachment to the chase, which seems to be the reigning passion of the Spanish sovereigns, conspires with the indolence of the people in suffering every royal residence to be surrounded by a savage and unseemly wilderness. The lands, which should contribute to supply the markets, being thus delivered over to waste and barrenness, are considered only as preserves for game of various sorts, which includes everything the gun can slay, and these are as much res sacræ as the altars, or the monks, who serve them. This solitudo ante ostium did not contribute to support our spirits, neither did the incessant jingling of the mules' bells relieve the tedium of the road to Guadarama, where we were

agreeably surprised by the Counts Kaunitz and Pietra Santa, who passed that night in our company, and next morning with many friendly adieus departed for Madrid, never to meet again—

Animas queis candidiores

Nusquam terra tulit.

The next day we passed the mountains of Guadarama by a magnificent causeway, and entered Old Castile. Here the country began to change for the better; the town of Villa Castin presents a very agreeable spectacle, being new and flourishing, with a handsome house belonging to the Marchioness of Torre-Manzanares, who is in part proprietor of the town. This illustrious lady was just now under a temporary cloud for having been party in a frolic with the young and animated Duchess of Alva, who had ventured to exhibit her fair person on the public parade in the character of postilion to her own equipage, whilst Torre-Manzanares, mounted the box as coachman, and other gallant spirits took their stations behind as footmen, all habited in the splendid blue and silver liveries of the house of Alva. In some countries a whim like this would have passed off with eclat, in many with impunity, but in Spain, under the government of a moral and decorous monarch, it was regarded in so grave a light, that, although the great lady postilion escaped with a reprimand, the lady coachman was sent to her castle at a distance from the capital, and doomed to do penance in solitude and obscurity.

We were now in the country for the Spanish wool, and this place being a considerable mart for that valuable article, is furnished with a very large and commodious shearing-house. We slept at a poor little village called San Chidrian, and being obliged to change our quarters on account of other travellers, who had been beforehand with us, we were fain to put up with the wretched accommodations of a very wretched posada.

The third day's journey presented to us a fine champaign country, abounding in corn, and well peopled. Leaving the town of Arebalo, which made a respectable appearance, on our right, we proceeded to Almedo, a very remarkable place, being surrounded with a Moorish wall and towers in very tolerable preservation; Almedo also has a fine convent and a handsome church.

The fourth day's journey, being March the 27th, still led us through a fair country, rich in corn and wine. The river Adaga runs through a grove of pines in a deep channel very romantic, wandering through a vast tract of vineyards without fences. The weather was serene and fresh, and gave us spirits to enjoy

VALLADOLID.

279 the scenery, which was new and striking. We dined at Valdestillas, a mean little town, and in the evening reached Valladolid, where bigotry may be said to have established its headquarters. The gate of the city, which is of modern construction, consists of three arches of equal span, and that very narrow; the centre of these is elevated with a tribune, and upon that is placed a pedestrian statue of Carlos III. This gate delivers you into a spacious square, surrounded by convents and churches, and passing this, which offers nothing attractive to delay you, you enter the old gate of the city, newly painted in bad fresco, and ornamented with an equestrian statue of the reigning king with a Latin inscription, very just to his virtues, but very little to the honor of the writer of it. You now find yourself in one of the most gloomy, desolate and dirty towns, that can be conceived, the great square much resembling that of the Plazamayor in Madrid, the houses painted in grotesque fresco, despicably executed, and the whole in miserable condition. I was informed that the convents amount to between thirty and forty. There is both an English and a Scottish college; the former under the government of Doctor Shepherd, a man of very agreeable, cheerful, natural manners; I became acquainted with him at Madrid through the introduction of my friend Doctor Geddes, late Principal of the latter college, but since Bishop of Mancecos, Missionary and Vicar General at Aberdeen. I had an introductory letter to the Intendant, but my stay was too short to avail myself of it; and I visited no church but the great cathedral of the Benedictines, where mass was celebrating, and the altars and whole edifice were arrayed in all their splendor. The fathers were extremely polite, and allowed me to enter the sacristy, where I saw some valuable old paintings of the early Spanish masters, some of a later date, and a series of Benedictine Saints, who, if they are not the most rigid, are indisputably the richest, order of Religious in Spain.

Our next day's journey advanced us only six short leagues, and set us down in the ruinous town of Duenas, which, like Olmedo, is surrounded by a Moorish fortification, the gate of which is entire. The Calasseros, obstinate as their mules, accord to you in nothing, but in admitting indiscriminately a load of baggage, that would almost revolt a wagon, and this is indispensible, as you must carry beds, provisions, cooking vessels, and every article for rest and sustenance, not excepting bread, for in this country an inn means a hovel, in which you may light a fire, if you can defend your right to it, and find a dunghill called a bed, if you can submit to lie down in it.

Our sixth day's stage brought us to the banks of the Douro,

which we skirted and kept in sight during the whole day from Duenas through Torrequemara to Villa Rodrigo. The stonebridge at Torrequemara is a noble edifice of eight and twenty arches. The windings of this beautiful river and its rocky banks, of which one side is always very steep, are romantic, and present fine shapes of nature, to which nothing is wanting but trees, and they not always. The vale through which it flows, inclosed within these rocky cliffs, is luxuriant in corn and wine; the soil in general of a fine loam mixed with gravel, and the fallows remarkably clean; they deposit their wine in caves hollowed out of the rocks. In the mean time, it is to the bounty of nature rather than to the care and industry of man, that the inhabitant, squalid and loathsome in his person, is beholden for that produce, which invites exertions that he never makes, and points to comforts that he never tastes. In the midst of all these scenes of plenty you encounter human misery in its worst attire, and ruined villages amongst luxuriant vineyards. Such a bountiful provider is God, and so improvident a steward is his vicegerent in this realm.

It should seem, that in this valley, on the banks of the fertilizing Douro, would be the proper site for the capital of Spain; whereas, Madrid is seated on a barren soil, beside a meagre stream, which scarce suffices to supply the washer-women, who make their troughs in the shallow current, which only has the appearance of a river when the snow melts upon the mountains, and turns the petty Manzanares, that just trickles through the sand, into a roaring and impetuous torrent. Of the environs of Madrid I have already spoken, and the climate on the northern side of the Guadaramas is of a much superior and more salubrious quality, being not so subject to the dangerous extremes of heat and cold, and much oftener refreshed with showers, the great desideratum, for which the monks of Madrid so frequently importune their poor helpless saint Isidore, and make him feel their vengeance, whilst for months together the unrelenting clouds will not credit him with a single drop of rain.

Upon our road this day we purchased three lambs at the price of two pisettes (shillings) a piece, and, little as it was, we hardly could be said to have had value for our money. Our worthy Marchetti, being an excellent engineer, roasted them whole, with surprising expedition and address, in a kitchen and at a fire, which would have puzzled all the resources of a French cook, and which no English scullion would have approached in her very worst apparel. A crew of Catalunian carriers at Torrequemara disputed our exclusive title to the fire, and with their