It is built of rough
granite. Valladolid is a manufacturing town, but the commerce is
chiefly in the hands of the Catalans, of whom there is a colony of
nearly three hundred established here. It possesses a beautiful
alameda, or public walk, through which flows the river Escurva.
The population is said to amount to sixty thousand souls.
We put up at the Posada de las Diligencias, a very magnificent
edifice: this posada, however, we were glad to quit on the second
day after our arrival, the accommodation being of the most wretched
description, and the incivility of the people great; the master of
the house, an immense tall fellow, with huge moustaches and an
assumed military air, being far too high a cavalier to attend to
the wants of his guests, with whom, it is true, he did not appear
to be overburdened, as I saw no one but Antonio and myself. He was
a leading man amongst the national guards of Valladolid, and
delighted in parading about the city on a clumsy steed, which he
kept in a subterranean stable.
Our next quarters were at the Trojan Horse, an ancient posada, kept
by a native of the Basque provinces, who at least was not above his
business. We found everything in confusion at Valladolid, a visit
from the factious being speedily expected. All the gates were
blockaded, and various forts had been built to cover the approaches
to the city. Shortly after our departure the Carlists actually did
arrive, under the command of the Biscayan chief, Zariategui. They
experienced no opposition; the staunchest nationals retiring to the
principal fort, which they, however, speedily surrendered, not a
gun being fired throughout the affair. As for my friend the hero
of the inn, on the first rumour of the approach of the enemy, he
mounted his horse and rode off, and was never subsequently heard
of. On our return to Valladolid, we found the inn in other and
better hands, those of a Frenchman from Bayonne, from whom we
received as much civility as we had experienced rudeness from his
predecessor.
In a few days I formed the acquaintance of the bookseller of the
place, a kind-hearted simple man, who willingly undertook the
charge of vending the Testaments which I brought.
I found literature of every description at the lowest ebb at
Valladolid. My newly-acquired friend merely carried on bookselling
in connexion with other business; it being, as he assured me, in
itself quite insufficient to afford him a livelihood. During the
week, however, that I continued in this city, a considerable number
of copies were disposed of, and a fair prospect opened that many
more would be demanded. To call attention to my books, I had
recourse to the same plan which I had adopted at Salamanca, the
affixing of advertisements to the walls. Before leaving the city,
I gave orders that these should be renewed every week; from
pursuing which course I expected that much manifold good would
accrue, as the people would have continual opportunities of
learning that a book which contains the living word was in
existence, and within their reach, which might induce them to
secure it and consult it even unto salvation.
In Valladolid I found both an English and Scotch College. From my
obliging friends, the Irish at Salamanca, I bore a letter of
introduction to the rector of the latter. I found this college an
old gloomy edifice, situated in a retired street. The rector was
dressed in the habiliments of a Spanish ecclesiastic, a character
which he was evidently ambitious of assuming. There was something
dry and cold in his manner, and nothing of that generous warmth and
eager hospitality which had so captivated me in the fine Irish
rector of Salamanca; he was, however, civil and polite, and offered
to show me the curiosities of the place. He evidently knew who I
was, and on that account was, perhaps, more reserved than he
otherwise would have been: not a word passed between us on
religious matters, which we seemed to avoid by common consent.
Under the auspices of this gentleman, I visited the college of the
Philippine Missions, which stands beyond the gate of the city,
where I was introduced to the superior, a fine old man of seventy,
very stout, in the habiliments of a friar. There was an air of
placid benignity on his countenance which highly interested me:
his words were few and simple, and he seemed to have bid adieu to
all worldly passions. One little weakness was, however, still
clinging to him.
Myself. - This is a noble edifice in which you dwell, Father; I
should think it would contain at least two hundred students.
Rector. - More, my son; it is intended for more hundreds than it now
contains single individuals.
Myself. - I observe that some rude attempts have been made to
fortify it; the walls are pierced with loopholes in every
direction.
Rector. - The nationals of Valladolid visited us a few days ago, and
committed much useless damage; they were rather rude, and
threatened me with their clubs: poor men, poor men.
Myself. - I suppose that even these missions, which are certainly
intended for a noble end, experience the sad effects of the present
convulsed state of Spain?
Rector. - But too true: we at present receive no assistance from
the government, and are left to the Lord and ourselves.
Myself. - How many aspirants for the mission are you at present
instructing?
Rector. - Not one, my son; not one. They are all fled. The flock
is scattered and the shepherd left alone.
Myself. - Your reverence has doubtless taken an active part in the
mission abroad?
Rector. - I was forty years in the Philippines, my son, forty years
amongst the Indians. Ah me! how I love those Indians of the
Philippines.
