exhibited for our amusement the old Spanish mode of fighting with knives and swords, and Don Diego Colon, a nephew of Conde de Pilar, whom I had frequently met at Seville. The latter is a lineal descendant of the celebrated Christopher Columbus, and added to our hilarity by composing and reciting a smart poem in compliment to the patriotism of his uncle, and the hospitality of our host.

A company of strolling players was in the town, and most of the party adjourned to the theatre. The actors on the stage at Cadiz may be considered good models of pure Castilian pronunciation; but these people spoke the patois of Andalusia in the most vulgar manner. The performance was taken from the History of Spain, and was a sort of narrative of the period when the Moors first invaded that country: the wife of the hero Don Rodriguez had a scolding-match with his mistress, which so wrought upon his virtue, that he promised to become a good husband in future. At the end of the play, the lady, seated astride on an Andalusian horse, rode into the pit, through a passage in the middle of it, and advanced to the orchestra, and there made a most flaming oration against the invaders, which applied as well to the French as to the Moors, and was received with great applause.

I returned from Chiclana this morning, and shall embark for Gibraltar to-morrow.

D D

LETTER XXX.

SPANISH CHARACTER WANT OF COMBINATION HATRED OF THE FRENCHVIEW OF THE PROBABLE STATE OF SPAIN HEREAFTER.

CADIZ, DEC. 1809.

AT this eventful period you will naturally expect me to say something of politics; but the truth is, that it is difficult, in such a shifting scene as Spain displays, to point out any thing which the occurrences of the next day may not contradict; and when the wide field of politics becomes a topic for correspondence, it is difficult to fix on any object which will appear equally interesting to the reader and the writer.

There is, in the national character of Spain, one trait, which equally pervades all classes of society; originating, I conceive, in the indolence which a warm climate, and the consequently luxurious habits, produce: this trait is the want of combination; the absence of arrangement. The Spaniards are brave, acute, patient, and faithful; but all their characteristics are insulated; all their exertions are individual. They have no idea of combining, either publicly or privately, in a manner to call forth their respective talents, and render every one useful to the common cause.

The Germans

may

2

be said to combine too much, and the Spaniards not at all. In my judgment the English have attained the

proper medium; but certainly the Spaniards are deficient in this respect, and to this deficiency their reverses may all be ascribed. If a commander should embark on an expedition, like that to Algiers a few years ago, it is not improbable that the powder would be conveyed in one ship, and the balls in another; so that if one were lost or delayed the other would prove useless; nor would it be unlikely to happen in their army, that ball-cartridges might be delivered to the soldiers for a review, and blank-cartridges for actual service; for I have seen errors committed equally egregious.

Nothing is more certain than that the Spanish nation, generally, is roused to madness against France: few are to be found who would not willingly plunge a dagger into the breast of a Frenchman whenever the occasion might offer, but there is no government, no ruling mind, to concentrate this universal feeling: whatever is done by Spaniards is individual effort, not combined exertion; and when they have attempted military operations on a great scale, they have been uniformly unsuccessful: they have only chosen the wrong means of warfare; and even should their armies be dispersed, and their strong towns taken (events which I anticipate) the invaders will be so far from conquest, that a warfare will commence of the most destructive species for France, and the most secure for Spain: then will those conflicts begin in which individual exertion is every thing, and combination unnecessary. From the defiles and mountains, where they will remain sheltered and concealed till opportunities offer, the Spaniards will harass and massacre the French in detail; they will prevent all intercourse between the different towns; they will stop cultivation in the plains; and perhaps, after years of

confusion and bloodshed, drive the French, as they formerly did the Moors, from their soil.

Every local circumstance is in favour of the Spaniards in this kind of warfare. The roads are passable only for mules, but no wheelcarriages can travel to the interior. The valleys between these mountains yield almost spontaneously all that a Spaniard requires ; the climate is so fine that the peasantry scarcely stand in need of habitations; and the flocks of sheep will supply them with skins for clothing without the aid of manufactures.

There are few villages, or even solitary houses, in Spain; almost all the people live in towns, which are at a great distance from each other, and the fields consequently remain uncultivated, except in the vicinity of these towns; to this may be added, that the Spaniards are of all men the most frugal and moderate in their subsistence; a bunch of grapes, or a melon, with garlic, suffices them, and they want no other drink but water.

Their animosity to the French is inflamed to madness; and their rage, fury, and revengeful passions will burn with increased ardour as the enemy continue their depredations. I have said enough to shew you my opinion on the future state of Spain: at present the defeat of Areisaga has cast a gloom over the prospects of the privileged orders of society: these may be swept away; but the Spanish people, the peasantry and the cultivators, will remain and will ultimately triumph.

WE had been politely offered a passage to this place by Captain Hollingsworth in the Minstrel sloop of war; but the Princess Augusta packet being ready to sail before her, we declined the offered civility, and embarked, at nine o'clock in the morning, on board the latter vessel. The morning was fine and the wind favourable, though so light that it promised a long passage. We sailed by the light-house of St. Sebastian, by the Isla de Leon, Chiclana, and the Corto, where we had lately passed some pleasant days.

At dark we were near Cape Trafalgar, and after as comfortable a night as a ship could afford, I rose at day-break to view the Straits of Gibraltar, which we were just entering. The sun rose unclouded over the high mountains of Africa, and gave a fine view of the magnificent hills which crown the vicinity of Tangiers. One of them, called Apes-hill, towered above the rest in majestic grandeur, and presented to the sea a perpendicular front of rugged cliff nearly a mile in height. The view on the left of the strait possessed considerable beauty, but of a species less sublime. The town of Tarifa,