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LETTER I

Voyage to Barcelona. –College of Trobadours. –Castilian language described.

Dear Sir,

Barcelona, 2d May, 1778

When I took my leave of you at Genoa, and embarked in an English vessel for Barcelona, I left you Reading Petrarch. You may recollect I informed you how much that illustrious poet had contributed to polish and improve the Poetry of Spain, where he had numerous admirers, as well as imitators, who introduced his metre into their language, though not without opposition at first, from national prejudice.

You acquainted me that you had already begun to read Don Quixote in its original language, and the celebrated Spanish translation of the Aminta of Tasso, by Jauregui, found in Don Quixote’s library, and so highly praised by Cervantes. You requested my opinion concerning the poetry of Spain, with some information relating to their Poets, the time when flourished, and where their works were printed. Sensible how unequal I am to the task, I promised however to give you in the course of my tour, a slight sketch of the Origin and Progress of national Poetry in that kingdom, to trace its vicissitudes trough the mazes of history and conquest, after the irruption of the northern hive, and succeeding invasion of the Saracens; finally, its improvement from the Trobadours, as well as flourishing state under the kings of Castile: particularly after they had driven out the Moors and discovered a new world, furnishing additional scenes to the fancy of poet, and unexplored regions to the elegant pen of the historian.

I arrived at this famous city after a pleasant passage of seven days. Our vessel was filled with a motley collection of passengers, consisting of Spanish tumblers returning to Valencia, Italian actresses and fiddlers, recruiting serjeants, pilgrims, and friars. As the weather was fine, we were continually entertained upon deck with the shrill fife of the soldier, the jarring sound of a dissonant guitarre, the din of the castanets, with the fandango dance, and the love songs of the actresses; all which were occasionally interrupted by the grave discourse of a venerable friar, who had lived many years at Rome, and was now returning home wrapt up in monastic forms and regulations. –We had some blowing weather in crossing the gulph of Lyons, that gave a pause to our mirth; but the sea became smooth like glass, as we drew near to Barcelona, when the pleasing sight of the coast, with the verdant hills in the blooming May, enraptured the eye, while the fanning breezes wasted us forward, and our cheerful companions made this little voyage the most pleasant I had ever performed; thus we entered the harbour in triumph, amidst the exultations of our jolly bacchanalians, who made the hills echo with their vociferation.

So much for music. Let me now return to the poets, for I am already on classic ground, and the seat of the muses. It was in this city that a college was first founded for the Trobadours, who were settled here towards the end of the fourteenth century, by John the 1st king of Aragon, who sent a solemn embassy to France for the purpose, desiring assistance from the society of Trobadours at Toulouse, in order to introduce the Gaya Sciencia into Spain, a request which was immediately granted, and two principal persons were sent to Barcelona, where they formed an establishment: but before I take up the poets, I must say a few words concerning the language, as the groundwork on which this superstructure was to be raised.

The common language of Spain is called Castilian, or Romance. This is what is printed in books, spoken at court, in the universities, and generally in all polite circles. Toledo was the standard, when the residence of the monarchs; but now Madrid undoubtedly beats the palm. This is the language that prevails in the two Castiles, Leon, Aragon, Estremadura, Andalusia, Navarre, Rioja and the mountains of Burgos; in all which places it is common, with more or less purity, attended with an accent called Tonillo, but without any variety of dialect. It is not so in Asturias, Galicia, Valencia and Catalonia, where they have a provincial dialect, insomuch that the Castilian language is not universal, though generally well understood, and written in all parts, except in the mountains of Navarre and Biscay, where it is neither spoken, written, nor understood by the common people, who have a different language of their own, unconnected with the Castilian; but this is not the case in Catalonia, Valencia and Galicia, the dialects of which are corruptions of the Latin as well as the Castilian; of course the affinity of the later has been closer, and its progress more extensive.

From such a diversity of dialects it is natural to suppose that no modern language abounds more than the Spanish with foreign expressions, owing to the variety of nations that have visited that kingdom, conquered it, or become subject to its dominion; which makes it difficult to trace the origin of its words, and has swelled the dictionary of the Spanish academy to six volumes in folio, which is yet thought so deficient that the first volume has been reprinted with considerable additions, for whoever attempts an etymological work of this nature, must, exclusive of modern languages, possess a rich fund of oriental literature, added to a perfect knowledge of latin and Greek, a judgment of which may be formed from the specimen exhibited by the learned Covarruvias 1 . If then we suppose the Spanish language to be divided into 100 parts, sixty must be allotted to Latin, ten to Greek, ten to the Goths and northern nations, ten Hebrew and Arabic, and ten German, Italian, and French, with the new words imported from the East and West-Indies.

In the year 1300 there were five national languages spoken in Spain, viz, the Castilian, Lemosin, Portuguese, Galician, and Biscayan, in their respective provinces; while the following dead languages were equally common, viz, the Hebrew amongst the Jews, the Arabic amongst the Mahometans, and the Latin and Greek amongst the Christians. Aldrete has fairly proved in his book on the “Origin of the Castilian language,” that it never existed as a distinct language prior to the invasion of the Goths, and that it owed its origin to a corruption of Latin, though the exact time could not be fixed. Several parchment inscriptions and poems having been discovered and dug up in Granada in the sixteenth century, weakly attributed to St. Cecilius a disciple of St. James, and supposed to be coeval with the days of the apostles; yet written in the Spanish language; these were alleged with an intemperate zeal against Aldrete, who dreading the iron hand of superstition, and not daring to contradict the blind notions of his countrymen, unwilling at the same time to give up his opinion, he fell upon this singular device, “that these writings were delivered in a prophetic strain,” and thus avoided the contest. These monuments of gross and bigoted credulity were carefully sent to Rome to be examined, where they have since been finally condemned, and the business is now at an end . We need not then be surprised at their ignorance in other matters relating to the antiquities and history of their country. Father Sarmiento, a learned Benedictine, complains, that there are several Hebrew and Arabic books, relating to Spain, with which his own countrymen are totally unacquainted; adding that Albupharage was translated by an Englishman, Elmacin by a Dutchman, and the Geographia Nubiensis by a Maronite, being all Arabic compositions, which, without absolutely belonging to Spanish history, are replete with a variety of matter that greatly serves to illustrate its history and geography. But let me not involve you in such chaos. I have already exercised your patience and let me rather entertain you with this agreeable climate, so particularly inviting at this season of the year.

I have made an excursion to the famous mountain of Montserrat, the wonder of naturalists, which our English travellers in Spain have sufficiently described. I speak of it only in a poetical style, as it has been celebrated in heroic verse by Christopher de Virues of Valencia, whose poem of Monserrate I send you herewith, which makes it unnecessary for me to add any more on the subject. You may remember this poem was also in Don Quixote’s libray, and preserved from the flames. Should this find you reading that incomparable romance, observe that I have just been on the spot near the walls of this city, where the Bachelor Sanson Carrasco, alias the intrepid Caballero de la Blanca Luna, overthrew in single combat the unfortunate hero of La Mancha, and gave the finishing stroke to this extravagant adventures.

Adieu.

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