LAND AND PEOPLE
It has been said, and it is often repeated, that if you strip a Spaniard
of his virtues, the residuum will be a Portuguese. This cruel statement
is rather the result of prejudice than arising from any foundation in
fact. It has a superficial cleverness which attracts some people, and
especially those who have but an imperfect knowledge of the true life
and character of the people thus stigmatised.
Lord Londonderry, in Chapter VI. of his _Narrative of the Peninsular
War_, writes thus of the difference of character between the two
nations: "Having halted at Elvas during the night, we marched next
morning soon after dawn; and, passing through a plain of considerable
extent, crossed the Guadiana at Badajoz, the capital of Estremadura.
This movement introduced us at once into Spain; and the contrast, both
in personal appearance and in manners, between the people of the two
nations, which was instantly presented to us, I shall not readily
forget. Generally speaking, the natives of frontier districts partake
almost as much of the character of one nation as of another.... It is
not so on the borders of Spain and Portugal. The peasant who cultivates
his little field, or tends his flock on the right bank of the Guadiana,
is, in all his habits and notions, a different being from the peasant
who pursues similar occupations on its left bank; the first is a genuine
Portuguese, the last is a genuine Spaniard.... They cordially detest one
another; insomuch that their common wrongs and their common enmity to
the French were not sufficient, even at this time, to eradicate the
feeling.
"It was not, however, by the striking diversity of private character
alone which subsisted between them, that we were made sensible, as soon
as we had passed the Guadiana, that a new nation was before us. The
Spaniards received us with a degree of indifference to which we had not
hitherto been accustomed. They were certainly not uncivil.... Whatever
we required they gave us, in return for our money; but as to enthusiasm
or a desire to anticipate our wants, there was not the shadow of an
appearance of anything of the kind about them. How different all this
from the poor Portuguese, who never failed to rend the air with their
_vivats_, and were at all times full of promises and protestations, no
matter how incapable they might be of fulfilling the one or
authenticating the other! The truth is that the Spaniard is a proud,
independent, and grave personage; possessing many excellent qualities,
but quite conscious of their existence, and not unapt to overrate
them.... Yet with all this, there was much about the air and manner of
the Spaniards to deserve and command our regard. The Portuguese are a
people that require rousing; they are indolent, lazy, and generally
helpless. We may value these our faithful allies, and render them
useful; but it is impossible highly to respect them. In the Spanish
character, on the contrary, there is mixed up a great deal of
haughtiness, a sort of manly independence of spirit, which you cannot
but admire, even though aware that it will render them by many degrees
less amenable to your wishes than their neighbours."
With due allowance for time and circumstances, much in this passage
might have been written to-day instead of nearly ninety years ago, and
one cause of the difference in feeling is no doubt explained truly
enough. Perhaps some shallow persons are affected by the fact that in
good looks the Portuguese are as a race inferior to the Spaniards. But
there is no such real difference in character as to justify an impartial
observer in using a phrase so essentially galling to England's allies,
of whom Napier said: "The bulk of the people were, however, staunch in
their country's cause ... ready at the call of honour, and susceptible
of discipline, without any loss of energy."
Throughout the whole Iberian Peninsula the main axiom of life appears to
be the same: "Never do to-day what you can put off to to-morrow." On the
left bank of the Guadiana it is summarised by the word _mañana_; on the
right bank the word used is _amanhã_. There is only a phonetic
distinction between the Spanish and the Portuguese idea. It is necessary
for the traveller in these countries to keep this axiom well in mind,
for it affords a clue to character and conduct the value of which cannot
be over-estimated, and not only to the character and conduct of
individuals, but to the whole national life of the inhabitants. In
Portugal it permeates all public and municipal life, and appears to
affect most especially that portion of the population who do not earn
their living by manual labour. The higher one goes up the scale, the
greater becomes the evidence of the ingrained habits of dilatoriness and
procrastination, and so any hard work on the part of the lower class of
toilers cannot be properly directed, and the commerce and industry of
the country either dwindle away together, or fall into the hands of more
energetic and active foreigners, who naturally carry off the profits
which should be properly applied to the welfare and prosperity of the
Lusitanians.
The mineral wealth and natural resources of the country are enormous,
and it is really sad to contemplate the little use that is made of the
one or of the other unless developed by alien energy and worked by alien
capital. As regards this latter important factor, the administrative
corruption and the unsound state of the national finances render it
difficult to find foreign capitalists who are able and willing to embark
in the industrial enterprises, the successful issue of which affords the
only chance for this most interesting nation to recover something of its
ancient prosperity and to once more take a position in the world worthy
of the land of the hardy sailors and valiant captains who have left so
imperishable a record over the earth's surface.
The intellectual life of Portugal seems to have ceased with Camoens. It
is rather pathetic the way in which the ordinary educated Portuguese
refers back to the great poet and to the heroic period which he
commemorated. No conversation of any length can be carried on without a
reference to Camoens and to Vasco da Gama. All history and all progress
appear to have culminated and stopped then. Apparently nothing worthy of
note has happened since. Camoens returned to Lisbon in 1569, and his
great epic poem saw the light in 1572. He died in a public hospital in
Lisbon in 1579 or 1580. In the latter year began the "sixty years'
captivity," when Portugal became merely a Spanish province; yet there
is no recollection of this--except the ingrained hatred of Spaniards and
of everything Spanish--or of the shaking off the yoke in 1640, and of
the battle of Amexial in 1663, where the English contingent bore the
brunt of the battle, and the "Portugueses," as they are called by the
author of _An Account of the Court of Portugal_, published in 1700,
claimed the principal part of the honour. The traces of the Peninsular
War have faded away, and on the lines of Torres Vedras there is scarcely
any tradition of the cause of their existence. In Lisbon, indeed, there
is one incident of later date than Camoens, which is considered worthy
of remembrance,--the great earthquake of 1755,--but this can scarcely be
looked upon as a national achievement, or a matter of intellectual
development.
That Camoens is a fitting object for a nation's veneration cannot for a
moment be doubted. The high encomium passed upon "the Student, the
Soldier, the Traveller, the Patriot, the Poet, the mighty Man of Genius"
by Burton, appears to be in no way exaggerated. The healthful influence
of his life and writings has done and is still doing good in his beloved
country. But though the man who in his lifetime was neglected, and who
was allowed to die in the depths of poverty and misery, is now the most
honoured of his countrymen, and his rank as one of the world's great
poets is universally acknowledged, his labours have been to a certain
extent in vain.
Not only industry, but culture, literature, and art appear to be
infested with the mildew of decay. There is a good university at
Coimbra, where alone, it is said, the language is spoken correctly.
There is an excellent system of elementary and secondary schools, but in
practice it is incomplete and subject to many abuses, like most public
institutions in the country. The irregularities of the language, without
authoritative spelling or pronunciation, and the best dictionary of
which is Brazilian, have a bad effect upon the literature of the
country.
The language, more purely Latin in its base than either of the other
Latin tongues, with an admixture of Moorish, and strengthened by the
admission of many words of foreign origin, introduced during the period
of great commercial prosperity, possesses ample means for the expression
of ideas and of shades of thought, and though it loses somewhat of the
musical quality of the other languages in consequence of a rather large
percentage of the nasal tones which are peculiar to it, yet it will hold
its own well with the remaining members of the group.
Whatever the cause, however, there is hardly any general literature;
almost the only books (not professional or technical) which are
published, appear to be translations of French novels--not of the
highest class. Perhaps in the study of archæology and folklore is to be
found the most cultured phase of Portuguese intelligence. The
Archæological Society of Lisbon strives to do good work, and has a
museum with interesting relics in the old church of the Carmo, itself
one of the most interesting and graceful ruins left out of the havoc
caused by the great earthquake.
As might be expected under such circumstances, the newspapers are, with
few exceptions, of the "rag" variety. Conducted for the most part by
clever young fellows fresh from Coimbra, they are violent in their views
and incorrect in their news, especially with regard to foreign
intelligence. They have some influence, no doubt, but not so much as the
same type of newspaper in France. The habitual want of veracity of the
Portuguese character is naturally emphasised in the newspapers, and no
one in his senses would believe any statement made in them.
A sure sign of the decadence of intellectual life, as well as of
commercial activity, is to be found in the postal service, with its
antiquated methods and imperfect arrangements. It is administered in a
happy-go-lucky manner, which amuses at the same time that it annoys.
Truly, with the post-office, it is well constantly to repeat to one's
self the phrase: "Patience! all will be well to-morrow!" Probably it
won't be well; but none but a foolish Englishman or Frenchman or German
will bother about such a little matter.
A kindly, brave, docile, dishonest, patient, and courteous people, who,
to quote Napier "retain a sense of injury or insult with incredible
tenacity;" and a due observance of their customs and proper politeness
are so readily met, and friendly advances are so freely proffered, that
a sojourn amongst them is pleasant enough. I have wondered that the
tourist has not found his way more into this smiling land, though, no
doubt, his absence is a matter of congratulation to the traveller in
these regions. The country has many beauties, the people and their
costumes are picturesque, and the cost of living--even allowing for a
considerable percentage of cheating--is not excessive. There is, I
suppose, a want of the ordinary attractions for the pure tourist or
globe-trotter. There are churches, monuments, and objects of interest in
goodly numbers, and there is beautiful scenery in great variety; but the
true attraction to a thoughtful visitor lies in the contemplation of the
people themselves.
The Portuguese, taken as a whole, are not a good-looking race. The
women, who, as a rule, are very pretty as little girls, lose their good
looks as they grow up, and are disappointing when compared with the
Spaniards. Sometimes one comes across fish- or market-women of
considerable comeliness, which, when conjoined to the graceful figure
and poise induced by the habitual carriage of heavy weights on the head
and the absence of shoes, makes a striking picture. The costume is
attractive, and the wealth of golden ear-rings, charms, chains, and such
like, in which these women invest their savings, does not somehow seem
anomalous or incongruous, though shown on a background of dirty and
ragged clothing.
One unfortunate peculiarity that cannot help being noticed is the number
of persons whose eyes are not on the same level. When this does not
amount to an actual disfigurement, it is still a blemish which prevents
many a young girl from being classed as a beauty. This and the peculiar
notched or cleft teeth seem to point to an hereditary taint. Also
unmistakable signs of a greater or lesser admixture of black blood are
numerous. As a rule, the Portuguese are dark-complexioned, with large
dark eyes and black hair; but, of course, one meets many exceptions. The
men of the working class are fond of wearing enormous bushy whiskers,
and women of all classes are accustomed to wear _moustachios_. The thin
line of softest down which accentuates the ripe lips of the _senhorina_
of some seventeen summers becomes an unattractive incident in the broad
countenance of the stout lady of advancing years; and when, as sometimes
happens, the hirsute appendages take the form of a thin, straggling
beard, with a tooth-brush moustache, it can only be described as an
unmitigated horror.
Society in Portugal is very mixed. There are the old _fidalgos_, haughty
and unapproachable, and often very poor, the descendants of the nobles
whose duplicity, ability in intrigue, and want of patriotism are so
often alluded to in the pages of Napier. Then there are the new
nobility, the "titled Brasileros," as Galenga calls them, who have come
back from Brazil to their native land with large fortunes acquired
somehow, and who practically buy titles, as well as lands and houses.
Wealthy tradesmen, also, hold a special position in the mixed middle
class. There is, too, a curious blending of old-fashioned courtesy with
democratic sentiments. The tradesman welcomes his customers with
effusive politeness--shakes hands as he invites them to sit down, and
chats with these perhaps titled ladies without any affectation or
assumption. After a while the parties turn to business. A sort of
Oriental bargaining takes place, the seller asking twice as much as the
object is worth and he intends to take. The purchaser meets this with an
offer of about half what she intends to give. With the utmost politeness
and civility the negotiations are conducted on either side. Each gives
way little by little, and in the end a bargain is struck. The amounts
involved appear to be enormous, as the _reis_ are computed by thousands
and hundreds; but, then, the _real_ is only worth about the thousandth
part of three shillings and twopence at the present rate of exchange,
and the long and exciting transaction, in all its various phases, has
resulted in one or other of the parties having scored or missed a small
victory. Verily, even to the loser, the pleasure is cheap at the price.
The Brazilian element is most conspicuous in Lisbon, and partly in
consequence that city is only a little modern capital, somewhat feebly
imitating Paris in certain ways, and, consequently, lacking the
individuality and interest of Oporto. Yet Lisbon has a charm of its own;
and the beauties of the Aveneida, the Roscio (known to the English as
the "Rolling Motion Square," from its curious pattern of black and white
pavement), the Black Horse Square, the broad and beautiful Tagus, the
hills whereon the city is built, and the lovely gardens with their
sub-tropical vegetation, will repay a stay of some weeks' duration.
Outside the mercantile element, there is considerable difficulty for a
stranger to formulate the boundaries of other social strata. It would
appear that the professions are in an indifferent position. Lawyers, of
course, as in most other countries, are looked upon as rogues. How far
this is the effect of the general prejudice, or whether it has any
special foundation in fact, it would be hard to say. No doubt there are
upright men amongst them, as in every other walk of life. There is a
general idea that the medical training is lax, and the doctors, as a
rule, are not highly considered. It is admitted, however, that they are
as devoted, and as ready to risk their own lives, as those of other
countries, a fact which was fully proved by several of the doctors at
Oporto and Lisbon on the occasion of the outbreak of the plague in 1899.
The system of fees in general use tends to damage the position of both
lawyers and doctors. In reply to the question as to his indebtedness,
the client or the patient is told: "What you please." This sounds
courteous, but is, in effect, embarrassing, as it is hard to estimate
what is a fair fee under the circumstances, and generally one or the
other of the parties is dissatisfied, and a sore feeling is left behind.
There are several orders of knighthood, which are showered about on
occasion. The reasons for giving them are various. For instance, a Court
tradesman may receive a decoration in lieu of immediate payment of a
long-standing bill. The ribbons and buttons are not worn so freely as
elsewhere on the Continent. The polite style in addressing a stranger is
in the third person, and such titles as Your Excellency, Your Lordship,
and Your Worship, sometimes enlarged with the adjective _illustrissimo_
(most illustrious), are common enough. When an Englishman is first
addressed as _Vossa Illustrissima Excellencia_ (Your Most Illustrious
Excellency), he begins to feel as if he were playing a part in one of
Gilbert and Sullivan's comic operas. He soon gets used to it, however,
and accepts the superlatives without turning a hair.
Of all classes it may be said that their manners are, on the whole,
good, and their morals generally lax. Cleanliness has no special place
assigned to it amongst the virtues. If it comes next to godliness, then
the latter must be very low down the scale. It seems incredible, but
verminous heads are to be found in the ranks of well-to-do tradespeople.
Fleas and bugs abound, and happy is he whose skin is too tough, or whose
flesh is too sour, to attract these ferocious insects. There is not much
luxury and there is a fair amount of thrift, while frugality of living
is common, especially among the populace.
One great characteristic is the intense love of children which is
exhibited by all classes, and there is no surer way to the good will of
a native than a kindness, however slight, to a child in whom he or she
is interested. As is natural under such circumstances, the children are
shockingly indulged and spoilt, with all the resultant unpleasant and
evil consequences. Cats, also, are great favourites with the Portuguese,
and the thousands of shabby animals of Lisbon and Oporto show no sign of
fear if a stranger stops to stroke them. They are accustomed to kind
treatment, and look upon all human beings as friends.
As a rule, a rather large number of servants are employed. They are
poorly paid, and in many households indifferently fed and housed. Often
they are dirty, lazy, dishonest sluts. They chatter shrilly with the
master or mistress, answer and argue when told of any shortcoming, and
are always ready to go off at a moment's notice. But they are often
capable of devoted service, and of a sincere desire to be obliging, and
may always be counted on to exhibit the utmost kindness to the children
of the house. Their written references, as a rule, are frauds. If you
ask for the _boas referencias_ (good references), so often mentioned in
the advertisements of _criadas_ (female servants), you will probably
find that, even if genuine, they are antiquated, and that they leave
many gaps between the various periods of service which can only be
filled up by conjecture. _Criadas_ are not, as a rule, of immaculate
virtue, and give some trouble by their desire to go to _festas_ and to
servants' balls. The male servants are, as a rule, better than the
_criadas_. Servants are somewhat roughly treated, and are ordered about
as if they were dogs. It is always said that they do not understand or
appreciate milder or more civil treatment, and are inclined to despise a
master or mistress who uses the Portuguese equivalent to "please," or
who acknowledges a service with thanks. I am inclined to doubt this,
both from my personal observation and from a casual remark made to me by
the landlady of a hotel at Cintra, that her waiters and servants much
preferred English to native visitors, because of the greater politeness
and consideration shown to them by the former. Of course, as in all
other countries, servants are described as one of the greatest plagues
in life; but this must be taken for what it is worth. And what would the
ladies do without such a subject to grumble about?
Portugal is a poor country, despite its natural resources. The wealthy
people are few, and consist mainly of returned Brazilians. It cannot be
said, either, that the classes in the enjoyment of a competence
constitute a fair average of the community. But the poor are very
abundant. Wages are terribly low, even a foreman in an engineering shop
getting only a milrei a day, averaging _3s. 2d._ in English money. On
the other hand, it must be remembered that in such a climate the "living
wage" is necessarily lower than in England. Many necessities in England
are superfluities or even inconveniences under sunnier skies. The
people, too, are very frugal, and even in towns, though rents be high,
all other necessaries are moderate in price. The standard of life is not
high, and the people are contented with a style of living which would be
indignantly rejected by English labourers.
The artisans are not good workmen, but plod on fairly well, and, with
the exception of _festas_, require few holidays. They prefer to work on
Sundays, and grumble at their English employers, who generally split the
difference, by closing their shops for half a day. They look upon this
as a grievance, however much they may be assured that it makes no
difference in their wages.
[Illustration: A COUNTRY CABIN IN GALICIA]
A very hard-working class of men are the Gallegos, the natives of
Galicia, who are nearly as numerous in Lisbon as they were when Napier
wrote, and where, then as now, they act as porters, messengers,
scavengers, and water-carriers, and are found in all sorts of lowly
and laborious occupations. As porters and messengers, they have an
excellent reputation for honesty, and for being most civil and obliging.
Gallenga, a fairly shrewd observer, considers that the employment of
these Spaniards has deplorable effects on the character of the
Portuguese nation. I cannot go all the way with him in the gloomy view
he takes of it, but it must be conceded that the existence of such a
body of aliens (estimated at twelve thousand in Lisbon alone) working
hard and well at occupations which the Portuguese will not do at all,
or, if they attempt them, will do indifferently; herding together some
ten or twelve in a small room, living on maize bread and a clove of
garlic washed down with water; accepting thankfully a very attenuated
hire, and yet contriving to send substantial savings back to
Galicia,--must considerably affect the labour market and tend to keep
wages low. They also close certain forms of labour to the native worker,
and cause these industries to be looked on with contempt.
In towns like Lisbon and Oporto a great number of persons are employed
in the fish trade. The fish-girls, with their distinctive costumes,
their bare feet, and the graceful poise of the heavy basket of fish on
their heads, are a very characteristic feature of both towns. The
costumes differ in the two cities, mainly in the head-gear, but they are
both picturesque and dirty, and emit the same "ancient and fish-like
smell." The men, too, with their bare legs and feet, balancing a long
pole on the shoulder, with a basket of fish at each end, will cover a
marvellous amount of ground in a day at the curious trotting pace which
they affect. Miles inland these men will carry their finny wares,
stopping at the public water-supplies to moisten the cloth which
protects the fish from the sun and dust. These may or may not be fresh
when the day's work is nearly done, but housewives purchasing a supply
in the afternoon had better keep a very sharp look-out.
Fish plays an important part in the domestic economy of dwellers within
a reasonable distance of the sea, and forms a considerable item in the
food-stuffs of the working classes. It is fairly cheap, and is cooked so
as to get the full value of it. More important than the fresh fish is
the salted cod (_bacalhao_). This, which Napier described as "the
ordinary food of the Portuguese," is the backbone of the worker's
_menu_. It is not fragrant, nor is it inviting in aspect in its raw
state, but it is said to be highly nutritive, and it can certainly be
cooked in ways which make it appetising. The midday meal, which the wife
brings to her husband at his work, and shares with him as they sit in
the shade, is often composed of a _caldo_ (soup) made of _bacalhao_, or
of all sorts of oddments, thickened with beans and flavoured with
garlic, accompanied by a bit of rye-bread or of _broa_, the bread made
from maize. These soups and breads, accompanied by salads, onions,
tomatoes, and other vegetables, washed down with draughts of a light red
table-wine of little alcoholic strength, form the not unwholesome
average diet of the worker with his hands. If he wants to get drunk, he
can do so, with some difficulty, by imbibing sufficient wine, but the
easiest method is to drink the fearful crude spirit _aguardente_. If he
survives, he gets horribly, brutally drunk, and possibly does some
mischief before he recovers. But it is only fair to say that he but
rarely gets drunk, and that when he is thirsty he quenches his thirst
with water, with a harmless decoction of herbs or lemonade, or with the
almost innocuous wine. This sobriety is not the result of any temperance
legislation or restrictions. No license is required for opening a shop
for the sale of liquor. Only revenue dues and _octroi_ duties have to be
paid, and, of course, there is a liability to police supervision, which
provides the police with a means of increasing their very inadequate pay
by bribes or blackmail.
The amusements of the workman in the town are few enough, and mostly of
a domestic character. He sits on his doorstep, or on a bench in the
nearest gardens. He smokes the eternal cigarette, gossips with his
neighbours, plays with his children, and pets the cat. His only real
playtimes are the _festas_, when for some hours he indulges in
revelry--if, indeed, it be worthy of such a title. He reads the
newspaper but little,--if he can read at all,--which is, perhaps, a
good thing for him, and he is generally a Republican. This Republicanism
is mostly academic, but the "red" type is not wanting, and a fiery
spirit might be roused at any time, with consequences that cannot be
foreseen. Of course, the younger men tinkle the guitar, and make love
more or less openly to the girls. When age overtakes a man or misfortune
overpowers him, there is no poor law to take him in charge, but there
are extensive and well-organised charities in every centre which are
eager and willing to assist those who are temporarily afflicted, and to
afford sustenance--a bare sustenance, perhaps--to those who are
permanently disabled.
The amusements of the town--the theatre, the concert, and the opera--do
not affect the workman much; his budget does not allow of such
indulgence, except on the occasion of a free performance. Though they
are fairly musical and love the theatre, the Portuguese have no really
æsthetic side to their character. There is a queer song and dance,
topical and rather broad, the _chula_, the somewhat monotonous refrain
of which is to be heard everywhere and at all hours, and from all
manners of lips. The washerwomen kneeling by the brook bang the
unfortunate clothes on the flat stones in rhythm with the tune, and
beguile the time with the interminable song. It arises in unexpected
places, and is a fairly sure item in the gathering of the younger folk,
both in towns and villages, in the cool of the evening. Concerts and
theatres are fairly patronised by the more moneyed classes, but the
performances are not, as a rule, of a very high calibre. There is a
subsidised theatre at Lisbon, but it does little to elevate the dramatic
art elsewhere.