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Late in the afternoon we reached Medina del Campo, formerly one of the principal cities of Spain, though at present an inconsiderable place.  Immense ruins surround it in every direction, attesting the former grandeur of this ‘city of the plain.’  The great square or market place is a remarkable spot, surrounded by a heavy massive piazza, over which rise black buildings of great antiquity.  We found the town crowded with people awaiting the fair, which was to be held in a day or two.  We experienced some difficulty in obtaining admission into the posada, which was chiefly occupied by Catalans from Valladolid.  These people not only brought with them their merchandise, but their wives and children.  Some of them appeared to be people of the worst description:  there was one in particular, a burly savage-looking fellow, of about forty, whose conduct was atrocious; he sat with his wife, or perhaps concubine, at the door of a room which opened upon the court:  he was continually venting horrible and obscene oaths, both in Spanish and Catalan.  The woman was remarkably handsome, but robust, and seemingly as savage as himself; her conversation likewise was as frightful as his own.  Both seemed to be under the influence of an incomprehensible fury.  At last, upon some observation from the woman, he started up, and drawing a long knife from his girdle, stabbed at her naked bosom; she, however, interposed the palm of her hand, which was much cut.  He stood for a moment viewing the blood trickling upon the ground, whilst she held up her wounded hand; then, with an astounding oath, he hurried up the court to the Plaza.  I went up to the woman and said, ’What is the cause of this?  I hope the ruffian has not seriously injured you.’  She turned her countenance upon me with the glance of a demon, and at last with a sneer of contempt exclaimed, ’Carals, que es eso?  Cannot a Catalan gentleman be conversing with his lady upon their own private affairs without being interrupted by you?’ She then bound up her hand with a handkerchief, and going into the room brought a small table to the door, on which she placed several things, as if for the evening’s repast, and then sat down on a stool.  Presently returned the Catalan, and without a word took his seat on the threshold; then, as if nothing had occurred, the extraordinary couple commenced eating and drinking, interlarding their meal with oaths and jests.

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I had till then considered him a plain, uninformed old man, almost simple, and as incapable of much emotion as a tortoise within its shell; but he had become at once inspired:  his eyes were replete with a bright fire, and every muscle of his face was quivering.  The little silk skull-cap which he wore, according to the custom of the Catholic clergy, moved up and down with his agitation; and I soon saw that I was in the presence of one of those remarkable men who so frequently spring up in the bosom of the Romish church, and who to a child-like simplicity unite immense energy and power of mind—­equally adapted to guide a scanty flock of ignorant rustics in some obscure village in Italy or Spain, as to convert millions of heathens on the shores of Japan, China, and Paraguay.