MY DEAR SIR--Your letter, acquainting me with Lady ----’s desire
that you should take an active part in our correspondence on Spain,
has increased my hopes of carrying on a work, which I feared would
soon grow no less tiresome to our friend than to me. Objects which
blend themselves with our daily habits are most apt to elude our
observation; and will, like some dreams, fleet away through the
mind, unless an accidental word or thought should set attention on
the fast-fading track of their course. Nothing, therefore, can be
of greater use to me than your queries, or help me so much as your
observations.
You must excuse, however, my declining to give you a sketch of
the national character of the Spaniards. I have always considered
such descriptions as absolutely unmeaning--a mere assemblage
of antitheses, where good and bad qualities are contrasted for
effect, and with little foundation in nature. No man’s powers of
observation can be, at once, so accurate and extensive, so minute and
generalizing, as to be capable of embodying the peculiar features
of millions into an abstract being, which shall contain traces of
them all. Yet this is what most travellers attempt after a few
weeks residence--what we are accustomed to expect from the time
that a Geographical Grammar is first put into our hands. I shall
not, therefore, attempt either abstraction or classification, but
endeavour to collect as many facts as may enable others to perceive
the general tendency of the civil and religious state of my country,
and to judge of its influence on the improvement or degradation of
this portion of mankind, independently of the endless modifications
which arise from the circumstances, external and internal, of every
individual. I will not overlook, however, the great divisions of
society, and shall therefore acquaint you with the chief sources of
distinction which both law and custom have established among us.
The most comprehensive division of the people of Spain is that of
_nobles_ and _plebeians_. But I must caution you against a mistaken
notion which these words are apt to convey to an Englishman. In
Spain, any person whose family, either by immemorial prescription,
or by the king’s patent, is entitled to exemption from some burdens,
and to the enjoyment of certain privileges, belongs to the class of
nobility. It appears to me that this distinction originated in the
allotment of a certain portion of ground in towns conquered from
the Moors. In some patents of nobility--I cannot say whether they
are all alike--the king, after an enumeration of the privileges and
exemptions to which he raises the family, adds the general clause,
that they shall be considered in all respects, as _Hidalgos de
casa y solar conocido_--“_Hidalgos_, i. e. nobles (for the words
are become synonymous) of a known family and _ground-plot_.” Many
of the exemptions attached to this class of Franklins, or inferior
nobility, have been withdrawn in our times, not, however, without
a distinct recognition of the _rank_ of such as could claim them
before the amendment of the law. But still a Spanish gentleman, or
_Caballero_--a name which expresses the privileged gentry in all
its numerous and undefined gradations--cannot be ballotted for the
militia; and none but an _Hidalgo_ can enter the army as a cadet.
In the routine of promotion, ten cadets, I believe, must receive
a commission before a serjeant can have his turn--and even that
is often passed over. Such as are fortunate enough to be raised
from the ranks can seldom escape the reserve and slight of their
prouder fellow-officers; and the common appellation of _Pinos_,
“pine-trees”--alluding, probably, to the height required in a
serjeant, like that of _freedman_, among the Romans, implies a stain
which the first situations in the army cannot completely obliterate.
_Noblesse_, as I shall call it, to avoid an equivocal term, descends
from the father to all his male children, for ever. But though a
female cannot transmit this privilege to her issue, her being the
daughter of an _Hidalgo_ is of absolute necessity to constitute
what, in the language of the country, is called, “a nobleman on four
sides”--_noble de quatro costados_: that is, a man whose parents,
their parents, and their parents’ parents, belonged to the privileged
class. None but these _square noblemen_ can receive the order of
knighthood. But we are fallen on degenerate times, and I could name
many a knight in this town who has been furnished with more than one
_corner_ by the dexterity of the _notaries_, who act as secretaries
in collecting and drawing up the proofs and documents required on
these occasions.
There exists another distinction of blood, which, I think, is
peculiar to Spain, and to which the mass of the people are so
blindly attached, that the meanest peasant looks upon the want of
it as a source of misery and degradation, which he is doomed to
transmit to his latest posterity. The least mixture of African,
Indian, Moorish, or Jewish blood, taints a whole family to the most
distant generation. Nor does the knowledge of such a fact die away
in the course of years, or become unnoticed from the obscurity and
humbleness of the parties. Not a child in this populous city is
ignorant that a family, who, beyond the memory of man have kept a
confectioner’s shop in the central part of the town, had one of
their ancestors punished by the Inquisition for a relapse into
Judaism. I well recollect how, when a boy, I often passed that way,
scarcely venturing to cast a side glance on a pretty young woman
who constantly attended the shop, for fear, as I said to myself, of
shaming her. A person free from tainted blood is defined by law, “an
old Christian, clean from all bad race and stain,” _Christiano viejo,
limpio de toda mala raza, y mancha_. The severity of this law, or
rather of the public opinion enforcing it, shuts out its victims from
every employment in church or state, and excludes them even from the
_Fraternities_, or religious associations, which are otherwise open
to persons of the lowest ranks. I verily believe, that were St. Peter
a Spaniard, he would either deny admittance into heaven to people of
tainted blood, or send them to a retired corner, where they might not
offend the eyes of the _old Christians_.
But alas! what has been said of laws--and I believe it true in
most countries, ancient and modern, except England--that they are
like cobwebs, which entrap the weak, and yield to the strong and
bold, is equally, and perhaps more generally applicable to public
opinion. It is a fact, that many of the grandees, and the titled
noblesse of this country, derive a large portion of their blood
from Jews and Moriscoes. Their pedigree has been traced up to those
cankered branches, in a manuscript book, which neither the threats
of Government, nor the terrors of the Inquisition, have been able to
suppress completely. It is called _Tizon de España_--“the Brand of
Spain.” But wealth and power have set opinion at defiance; and while
a poor industrious man, humbled by feelings not unlike those of an
Indian _Paria_, will hardly venture to salute his neighbour, because,
forsooth, his fourth or fifth ancestor fell into the hands of the
Inquisition for declining to eat pork--the proud grandee, perhaps
a nearer descendant of the Patriarchs, will think himself degraded
by marrying the first gentlewoman in the kingdom, unless she brings
him _a hat_, in addition to the six or eight which he may be already
entitled to wear before the king. But this requires some explanation.
The highest privilege of a grandee is that of covering his head
before the king. Hence, by two or more _hats_ in a family, it is
meant that it has a right, by inheritance, to as many titles of
grandeeship. Pride having confined the grandees to intermarriages
in their own caste, and the estates and titles being inheritable by
females, an enormous accumulation of property and honours has been
made in a few hands. The chief aim of every family is constantly to
increase this preposterous accumulation. Their children are married,
by dispensation, in their infancy, to some great heir or heiress; and
such is the multitude of family names and titles which every grandee
claims and uses, that if you should look into a simple passport given
by the Spanish Ambassador in London, when he happens to be a member
of the ancient Spanish families, you will find the whole first page
of a large foolscap sheet, employed merely to tell you who the great
man is whose signature is to close the whole. As far as vanity alone
is concerned, this ambitious display of rank and parentage, might,
at this time of day, be dismissed with a smile. But there lurks a
more serious evil in the absurd and invidious system so studiously
preserved by our first nobility. Surrounded by their own dependents,
and avoided by the gentry, who are seldom disposed for an intercourse
in which a sense of inferiority prevails, few of the grandees are
exempt from the natural consequences of such a life--gross ignorance,
intolerable conceit, and sometimes, though seldom, a strong dose of
vulgarity. I would, however, be just, and by no means tax individuals
with every vice of the class. But I believe I speak the prevalent
sense of the country upon this point. The grandees have degraded
themselves by their slavish behaviour at Court, and incurred great
odium by their intolerable airs abroad. They have ruined their
estates by mismanagement and extravagance, and impoverished the
country by the neglect of their immense possessions. Should there be
a revolution in Spain, wounded pride, and party spirit, would deny
them the proper share of power in the constitution, to which their
lands, their ancient rights, and their remaining influence entitle
them. Thus excluded from their chief and peculiar duty of keeping
the balance of power between the throne and the people, the Spanish
grandees will remain a heavy burthen on the nation; while, either
fearing for their overgrown privileges, or impatient under reforms
which must fall chiefly on them and the clergy, they will always
be inclined to join the crown in restoring the abuses of arbitrary
government.
Would to Heaven that an opportunity presented itself for re-modelling
our constitution after the only political system which has been
sanctioned by the experience of ages--I mean your own. We have nearly
the same elements in existence; and low and degraded as we are by the
baneful influence of despotism, we might yet by a proper combination
of our political forces, lay down the basis of a permanent and
improvable free constitution. But I greatly fear that we have been
too long in chains, to make the best use of the first moments of
liberty. Perhaps the crown, as well as the classes of grandees and
bishops, will be suffered to exist, from want of power in the popular
party; but they will be made worse than useless through neglect and
jealousy. I am neither what you call a tory nor a bigot; nor am I
inditing a prophetic elegy on the diminished glories of crowns,
coronets and mitres. A levelling spirit I detest indeed, and from
my heart do I abhor every sort of spoliation. Many years, however,
must pass, and strange events take place, before any such evils can
threaten this country. Spanish despotism is not of that insulting
and irritating nature which drives a whole people to madness. It is
not the despotism of the taskmaster whose lash sows vengeance in the
hearts of his slaves. It is the cautious forecast of the husbandman
who mutilates the cattle whose strength he fears. The degraded animal
grows up, unconscious of the injury, and after a short training, one
might think he comes at last to love the yoke. Such, I believe, is
our state. Taxes, among us, are rather ill-contrived than grinding;
and millions of the lower classes are not aware of the share they
contribute. They all love their king, however they may dislike the
exciseman. Seigneurial rights are hardly in existence: and both
gentry and peasantry find little to remind them of the exorbitant
power which the improvident and slothful life of the grandees, at
court, allows to lie dormant and wasting in their hands. The majority
of the nation are more inclined to despise than to hate them; and
though few men would lift up a finger to support their rights, fewer
still would imitate the French in carrying fire and sword to their
mansions.
For bishops and their spiritual power _Juan Español_[5] has as
greedy and capacious a stomach, as _John Bull_ for roast beef and
ale. One single class of people feels galled and restless, and that
unfortunately neither is, nor can be, numerous in this country.
The class I mean consists of such as are able to perceive the
encroachments of tyranny on their intellectual rights--whose pride
of mind, and consciousness of mental strength, cause them to groan
and fret, daily and hourly, under the necessity of keeping within
the miry and crooked paths to which ignorance and superstition have
confined the active souls of the Spaniards. But these, compared
with the bulk of the nation, are but a mere handful. Yet, they may,
under favourable circumstances, recruit and augment their forces
with the ambitious of all classes. They will have, at first, to
disguise their views, to conceal their favourite doctrines, and
even to cherish those national prejudices, which, were their real
views known, would crush them to atoms. The mass of the people may
acquiesce for a time in the new order of things, partly from a vague
desire of change and improvement, partly from the passive political
habits which a dull and deadening despotism has bred and rooted in
the course of ages. The army may cast the decisive weight of the
sword on the popular side of the balance, as long as it suits its
views. But if the church and the great nobility are neglected in
the distribution of legislative power--if, instead of alluring them
into the path of liberty with the sweet bait of _constitutional_
influence, they are only alarmed for their rights and privileges,
without a hope of compensation, they may be shovelled and heaped
aside, like a mountain of dead and inert sand; but they will stand,
in their massive and ponderous indolence, ready to slide down at
every moment, and bury the small active party below, upon the least
division of their strength. A house, or chamber of peers, composed of
grandees in their own right--that is, not, as is done at present, by
the transfer of one of the titles accumulated in the same family--of
the bishops, and of a certain number of law lords regularly chosen
from the supreme court of judicature (a measure of the greatest
importance to discourage the distinction of _blood_, which is,
perhaps, the worst evil in the present state of the great Spanish
nobility), might, indeed, check the work of reformation to a slower
pace than accords with the natural eagerness of a popular party. But
the legislative body would possess a regulator within itself, which
would faithfully mark the gradual capacity for improvement in the
nation. The members of the privileged chamber would themselves be
improved and enlightened by the exercise of constitutional power, and
the pervading influence of public discussion: while, should they be
overlooked in any future attempt at a free constitution, they will,
like a diseased and neglected limb, spread infection over the whole
body, or, at last, expose it to the hazard of a bloody and dangerous
amputation. But it is time to return to our _Hidalgos_.
[5] A name denoting the plain unsophisticated Spaniard.
As the _Hidalguia_ branches out through every male whose father
enjoys that privilege, Spain is overrun with _gentry_, who earn their
living in the meanest employments. The province of Asturias having
afforded shelter to that small portion of the nation which preserved
the Spanish name and throne against the efforts of the conquering
Arabs; there is hardly a native of that mountainous tract, who, even
at this day, cannot shew a legal title to honours and immunities
gained by his ancestors, at a time when every soldier had either a
share in the territory recovered from the invaders, or was rewarded
with a perpetual exemption from such taxes and services as fell
exclusively upon the _simple_[6] peasantry. The numerous assertors
of these privileges among the Asturians of the present day, lead me
to think that in the earliest times of the Spanish monarchy every
soldier was raised to the rank of a Franklin. But circumstances
are strangely altered. Asturias is one of the poorest provinces
of Spain, and the _noble_ inhabitants having, for the most part,
inherited no other patrimony from their ancestors than a strong
muscular frame, are compelled to make the best of it among the more
feeble tribes of the south. In this capital of Andalusia they have
engrossed the employments of watermen, porters, and footmen. Those
belonging to the two first classes are formed into a _fraternity_,
whose members have a right to the exclusive use of a chapel in the
cathedral. The privilege which they value most, however, is that of
affording the twenty stoutest men to convey the moveable stage on
which the consecrated host is paraded in public, on Corpus Christi
day, enshrined in a small temple of massive silver. The bearers are
concealed behind rich gold-cloth hangings, which reach the ground
on the four sides of the stage. The weight of the whole machine is
enormous; yet these twenty men bear it on the hind part of the head
and neck, moving with such astonishing ease and regularity, as if the
motion arose from the impulse of steam, or some steady mechanical
power.
[6] _Gentle_ and _simple_, as I find in those inexhaustible
sources of intellectual delight, the Novels by the author of
“Waverley,” are used by the Scottish peasants in the same manner
as _Noble_, and _Llano_, (plain, simple) by the Spaniards.
While these _Gentlemen Hidalgos_ are employed in such ungentle
services, though the law allows them the exemptions of their class,
public opinion confines them to their natural level. The only chance
for any of these disguised _noblemen_ to be publicly treated with due
honour and deference is, unfortunately, one for which they feel an
unconquerable aversion--that of being delivered into the rude hands
of a Spanish _Jack Ketch_. We had here, two years ago, an instance
of this, which I shall relate, as being highly characteristic of our
national prejudices about blood.
A gang of five banditti was taken within the jurisdiction of this
_Audiencia_, or chief court of justice, one of whom, though born
and brought up among the lowest ranks of society, was, by family,
an _Hidalgo_, and had some relations among the better class of
gentlemen. I believe the name of the unfortunate man was _Herrera_,
and that he was a native of a town about thirty English miles from
Seville, called _el Arahal_. But I have not, at present, the means
of ascertaining the accuracy of these particulars. After lingering,
as usual, four or five years in prison, these unfortunate men were
found guilty of several murders and highway robberies, and sentenced
to suffer death. The relations of the _Hidalgo_, who, foreseeing
this fatal event, had been watching the progress of the trial, in
order to step forward just in time to avert the stain which a cousin,
in the second or third remove, would cast upon their family, if he
died in mid-air like a villain; presented a petition to the judges,
accompanied with the requisite documents, claiming for their relative
the honours of his rank, and engaging to pay the expenses attending
the execution of a _nobleman_. The petition being granted as a matter
of course, the following scene took place. At a short distance from
the gallows on which the four _simple_ robbers were to be hanged in
a cluster, from the central point of the cross beam, all dressed in
white shrouds, with their hands tied before them, that the hangman,
who actually rides upon the shoulders of the criminal, may place his
foot as in a stirrup,[7]--was raised a scaffold about ten feet high,
on an area of about fifteen by twenty, the whole of which and down
to the ground, on all sides, was covered with black baize. In the
centre of the scaffold was erected a sort of arm-chair, with a stake
for its back, against which, by means of an iron collar attached to
a screw, the neck is crushed by one turn of the handle. This machine
is called _Garrote_--“a stick”--from the old-fashioned method of
strangling, by twisting the fatal cord with a stick. Two flights of
steps on opposite sides of the stage, afforded a separate access, one
for the criminal and the priest, the other for the executioner and
his attendant.
[7] The Cortes have abolished this barbarous method of inflicting
death.
The convict, dressed in a loose gown of black baize, rode on a horse,
a mark of distinction peculiar to his class, (plebeians riding
on an ass, or being dragged on a hurdle,) attended by a priest,
and a notary, and surrounded by soldiers. Black silk cords were
prepared to bind him to the arms of the seat; for ropes are thought
dishonourable. After kneeling to receive the last absolution from
the priest, he took off a ring, with which the unfortunate man had
been provided for that melancholy occasion. According to etiquette
he should have disdainfully thrown it down for the executioner;
but, as a mark of Christian humility, he put it into his hand. The
sentence being executed, four silver candlesticks, five feet high,
with burning wax-candles of a proportionate length and thickness,
were placed at the corners of the scaffold; and in about three hours,
a suitable funeral was conducted by the _posthumous_ friends of the
noble robber, who, had they assisted him to settle in life with half
of what they spent in this absurd and disgusting show, might, perhaps
have saved him from his fatal end. But these honours being what is
called _a positive act of noblesse_, of which a due certificate is
given to the surviving parties, to be recorded among the legal proofs
of their rank; they may have acted under the idea that their relative
was fit only to add lustre to the family by the close of his career.
The innumerable and fanciful gradations of family rank which the
Spaniards have formed to themselves, without the least foundation
in the laws of the country, are difficult to describe. Though the
_Hidalguia_ is a necessary qualification, especially in country
towns, to be admitted into the best society, it is by no means
sufficient, by itself, to raise the views of every _Hidalgo_ to a
family connexion with the “blue blood”--_sangre azul_ of the country.
The shades by which the vital fluid approaches this privileged hue,
would perplex the best colourist. These prejudices, however, have
lost much of their force at Madrid, except among the grandees,
and in such maritime towns as Malaga and Cadiz, where commerce has
raised many new, and some foreign families into consequence. But
there is a pervading spirit of vanity in the nation, which actuates
even the lowest classes, and may be discovered in the evident
mortification which menials and mechanics are apt to feel, on the
omission of some modes of address intended, as it were, to cast a
veil on the humbleness of their condition. To call a man by the
name of _blacksmith_, _butcher_, _coachman_, would be considered
an insult. They all expect to be called either by their Christian
name, or by the general appellation _Maestro_ and in both cases with
the prefixed _Señor_; unless the word expressing the employment
should imply superiority: as _Mayoral_, chief coachman--_Rabadán_,
chief shepherd--_Aperador_, bailiff. These, and similar names,
are used without an addition, and sound well in the ears of the
natives. But no female would suffer herself to be addressed _cook_,
_washer-woman_, &c.; they all feel and act as if, having a natural
claim to a higher rank, misfortune alone had degraded them. Poverty,
unless it be extreme, does not disqualify a man of family for the
society of his equals. Secular clergymen, though plebeians, are,
generally, well received; but the same indulgence is not readily
extended to monks and friars, whose unpolished manners betray too
openly the meanness of their birth. Wholesale merchants, if they
belong to the class of _Hidalgos_, are not avoided by the great
gentry. In the law, _attorneys_ and _notaries_ are considered to be
under the line of _Caballeros_, though their rank, as in England,
depends a great deal on their wealth and personal respectability.
Physicians are nearly in the same case.
Having now made you acquainted with what is here called the _best
sort_ of people, you will probably like to have a sketch of their
daily life: take it, then, neither from the first, nor the last of
the class.
Breakfast, in Spain, is not a regular family meal. It generally
consists of chocolate, and buttered toast, or muffins, called
_molletes_. Irish salt-butter is very much in use; as the heat of
the climate does not allow the luxuries of the dairy, except in
the mountainous tracts of the north. Every one calls for chocolate
whenever it suits him; and most people take it when they come
from mass--a ceremony seldom omitted, even by such as cannot be
reckoned among the highly religious. After breakfast, the gentlemen
repair to their occupations; and the ladies, who seldom call upon
one another, often enjoy the _amusement_ of music and a sermon
at the church appointed on that day for the public adoration of
the Consecrated Host, which, from morning till night, takes place
throughout the year in this, and a few other large towns. This is
called _el jubileo_--the jubilee; as, by a spiritual grant of the
Pope, those who visit the appointed church, are entitled to the
plenary indulgence which, in former times, rewarded the trouble and
dangers of a journey to Rome, on the first year of every century--a
poor substitute, indeed, for the _ludi sæculares_, which, in former
times, drew people thither from all parts of the Roman empire.
The bait, however, was so successful for a time, that _jubilees_
were celebrated every twenty-five years. But when the taste for
papal indulgences began to be cloyed by excess, few would move
a foot, and much less undertake a long journey, to spend their
money for the benefit of the Pope and his Roman subjects. In these
desperate circumstances, the Holy Father thought it better to send
the _jubilee_, with its plenary indulgence, to the distant sheep
of his flock, than to wait in vain for their coming to seek it at
Rome. To this effort of pastoral generosity we owe the inestimable
advantage of being able, every day, to perform a spiritual visit
to St. Peter’s at Rome; which, to those who are indifferent about
architectural beauty, is infinitely cheaper, and just as profitable,
as a pilgrimage to the vicinity of the Capitol.
About noon the ladies are at home, where, employed at their needle,
they expect the morning calls of their friends. I have already told
you how easy it is for a gentleman to gain an introduction to any
family: the slightest occasion will produce what is called _an offer
of the house_, when you are literally told that the house _is yours_.
Upon the strength of this offer, you may drop in as often as you
please, and idle away hour after hour, in the most unmeaning, or it
may chance, the most interesting conversation.
The mention of this offer of the house induces me to give you
some idea of the hyperbolical civility of my countrymen. When an
English nobleman, well known both to you and me, was some years
ago travelling in this country, he wished to spend a fortnight at
Barcelona; but, the inn being rather uncomfortable for himself
and family, he was desirous of procuring a country-house in the
neighbourhood of the town. It happened at this time that a rich
merchant, for whom our friend had a letter, called to pay his
respects; and in a string of high-flown compliments, assured his
Lordship that both his town-house and his villa were entirely at
his service. My lady’s eyes sparkled with joy, and she was rather
vexed that her husband had hesitated a moment to secure the villa
for his family. Doubts arose as to the sincerity of the offer, but
she could not be persuaded that such forms of expression should be
taken, in this country, in the same sense as the--“Madam I am at your
feet,”--with which every gentleman addresses a lady. After all, the
merchant, no doubt, to his great astonishment, received a very civil
note, accepting the loan of his country house. But, in answer to the
note, he sent an awkward excuse, and never shewed his face again.
The poor man was so far from being to blame, that he only followed
the established custom of the country, according to which it would
be rudeness not to offer any part of your property, which you either
mention or show. Fortunately, Spanish etiquette is just and equitable
on this point; for as it would not pardon the omission of the offer,
so it would never forgive the acceptance.
A foreigner must be surprised at the strange mixture of caution
and liberty which appears in the manners of Spain. Most rooms have
glass doors; but when this is not the case, it would be highly
improper for any lady to sit with a gentleman, unless the doors were
open. Yet, when a lady is slightly indisposed in bed, she does not
scruple to see every one of her male visitors. A lady seldom takes a
gentleman’s arm, and never shakes him by the hand; but on the return
of an old acquaintance after a considerable absence, or when they
wish joy for some agreeable event, the common salute is an embrace.
An unmarried woman must not be seen alone out of doors, nor must she
sit _tête-à-tête_ with a gentleman, even when the doors of the room
are open; but, as soon as she is married, she may go by herself where
she pleases, and sit alone with any man for many hours every day. You
have in England strange notions of Spanish jealousy. I can, however,
assure you, that if Spanish husbands were, at any time, what novels
and old plays represent them, no race in Europe has undergone a more
thorough change.
Dinners are generally at one, and in a few houses, between two and
three. Invitations to dine are extremely rare. On some extraordinary
occasions, as that of a young man performing his first mass--a
daughter taking the veil--and, in the more wealthy houses, on the
saint-days of the heads of the family, they make what is called a
_convite_, or feast. Any person accustomed to your private dinners,
would be thrown into a fever by one of these parties. The height of
luxury, on these occasions, is what we call _Comida de Fonda_--a
dinner from the coffee-house. All the dishes are dressed at an
inn, and brought ready to be served at table. The Spanish houses,
even those of the best sort, are so ill provided with every thing
required at table, that wine, plates, glasses, knives and forks,
are brought from the inn together with the dinner. The noise and
confusion of these _feasts_ is inconceivable. Every one tries to
repay the hospitable treat with mirth and noise; and though Spaniards
are, commonly, water-drinkers, the bottle is used very freely on
these occasions; but they do not continue at table after eating the
dessert. Upon the death of any one in a family, the nearest relatives
send a dinner of this kind, on the day of the funeral, that they may
save the chief mourners the trouble of preparing an entertainment for
such of their kindred as have attended the body to church. Decorum,
however, forbids any mirth on these occasions.
After I became acquainted with English hospitality, my mind was
struck with a custom, which, being a matter of course in Spain, had
never attracted my notice. An invitation to dinner, which, by the
by, is never given in writing, must not be accepted on the first
proposal. Perhaps our complimentary language makes it necessary to
ascertain how far the inviter may be in earnest, and a good-natured
civility has made it a rule to give national vanity fair play, and
never, without proper caution, to trust _pot-luck_, where fortune
so seldom smiles upon that venerable utensil. The first invitation
“to eat the soup” should be answered, therefore, with “a thousand
thanks;” by which a Spaniard civilly declines what no one wishes him
to accept. If, after this skirmish of good breeding, the offer should
be repeated, you may begin to suspect that your friend is in earnest,
and answer him in the usual words, _no se meta Usted en eso_--“do
not engage in such a thing.” At this stage of the business, both
parties having gone too far to recede, the invitation is repeated and
accepted.
I might, probably, have omitted the mention of this custom, had I not
found, as it appears to me, a curious coincidence between Spanish
and ancient Greek manners on this point. Perhaps you recollect that
Xenophon opens his little work called “The Banquet,” by stating how
Socrates and his pupils, who formed the greater part of the company
the entertainment therein described, were invited by Callias, a rich
citizen of Athens. The feast was intended to celebrate the victory
of a young man, who had obtained the crown at the Panathenæan games.
Callias was walking home with his young friend to the Pireus, when
he saw Socrates and his daily companions. He accosted the former in
a familiar and playful manner, and, after a little bantering on his
philosophical speculations, requested both him and his friends to
give him the pleasure of their company at table. “They, however,”
says Xenophon, “_at first, as was proper_, thanked him, and declined
the invitation; _but when it clearly appeared that he was angry at
the refusal_, followed him.” I am aware that the words in Xenophon
admit another interpretation, and that the phrase which I render,
_as was proper_, may be applied to the _thanks_ alone; but it may be
referred, with as much or better reason, both to thanks and refusal,
and the custom which I have stated inclines me strongly to adopt
that sense.[8] The truth is, that wherever dinner is not, as in
England, the chief and almost exclusive season of social converse,
an invitation to dine must appear somewhat in the light of a gift or
present--which every man of delicacy feels reluctant to accept at all
from a mere acquaintance, or without some degree of compulsion, from
a friend. Besides, we know the abuse and ridicule with which both
Greeks and Romans attacked the _Parasites_, or dinner-hunters; and
it is very natural to suppose that a true gentleman would be upon
his guard against the most distant resemblance to those unfortunate
starvelings.
[8] See note B.
The custom of sleeping after dinner, called _Siesta_, is universal in
summer, especially in Andalusia, where the intenseness of the heat
produces languor and drowsiness. In winter, taking a walk, just after
rising from table, is very prevalent. Many gentlemen, previously to
their afternoon walk, resort to the coffee-houses, which now begin to
be in fashion.
Almost every considerable town of Spain is provided with a public
walk, where the better classes assemble in the afternoon. These
places are called _Alamedas_, from _Alamo_, a common name for the elm
and poplar, the trees which shade such places. Large stone benches
run in the direction of the alleys, where people sit either to rest
themselves or to carry on a long talk, in whispers, with the next
lady; an amusement which, in the idiom of the country, is expressed
by the strange phrase, _pelar la Pava_--“to pluck the hen-turkey.” We
have in our _Alameda_ several fountains of the most delicious water.
No less than twenty or thirty men with glasses, each holding nearly
a quart, move in every direction, so dextrously clashing two of them
in their hands, that without any danger of breaking them, they keep
up a pretty lively tinkling like that of well-tuned small bells.
So great is the quantity of water which these people sell to the
frequenters of the walk, that most of them live throughout the year
on what they thus earn in summer. Success in this trade depends on
their promptitude to answer every call, their neatness in washing the
glasses, and most of all, on their skilful use of the good-natured
waggery peculiar to the lower classes of Andalusia. A knowing air, an
arch smile, and some honied words of praise and endearments, as “My
rose,” “My soul,” and many others, which even a modest and high-bred
lady will hear without displeasure; are infallible means of success
among tradesmen who deal with the public at large, and especially
with the more tender part of that public. The company in these
walks presents a motley crowd of officers in their regimentals,--of
clergymen in their cassocks, black cloaks, and broad-brimmed hats,
not unlike those of the coalmen in London,--and of gentlemen wrapped
up in their _capas_, or in some uniform, without which a well-born
Spaniard is almost ashamed to shew himself.
The ladies’ walking-dress is susceptible of little variety. Nothing
short of the house being on fire would oblige a Spanish woman to step
out of doors without a black petticoat, called _Basquiña_, or _Saya_,
and a broad black veil, hanging from the head over the shoulders, and
crossed on the breast like a shawl, which they call _Mantilla_. The
_mantilla_ is, generally, of silk trimmed round with broad lace. In
summer-evenings some white _mantillas_ are seen; but no lady would
wear them in the morning, and much less venture into a church in such
a _profane_ dress.
A showy fan is indispensable, in all seasons, both in and out of
doors. An Andalusian woman might as well want her tongue as her
fan. The fan, besides, has this advantage over the natural organ
of speech--that it conveys thought to a greater distance. A dear
friend at the farthest end of the public walk, is greeted and cheered
by a quick, tremulous motion of the fan, accompanied with several
significant nods. An object of indifference is dismissed with a slow,
formal inclination of the fan, which makes his blood run cold. The
fan, now, screens the titter and whisper; now condenses a smile into
the dark sparkling eyes, which take their aim just above it. A gentle
tap of the fan commands the attention of the careless; a waving
motion calls the distant. A certain twirl between the fingers betrays
doubt or anxiety--a quick closing and displaying the folds, indicates
eagerness or joy. In perfect combination with the expressive features
of my countrywomen, the fan is a magic wand, whose power is more
easily felt than described.
What is mere beauty, compared with the fascinating power arising from
extreme sensibility? Such as are alive to those invisible charms,
will hardly find a plain face among the young women of Andalusia.
Their features may not, at first view, please the eye; but seem to
improve every day till they grow beautiful. Without the advantages
of education, without even external accomplishments, the vivacity
of their fancy sheds a perpetual glow over their conversation; and
the warmth of their heart gives the interest of affection to their
most indifferent actions. But Nature, like a too fond mother, has
spoilt them, and Superstition has completed their ruin. While the
activity of their minds is allowed to run waste for want of care
and instruction, the consciousness of their powers to please,
impresses them with an early notion that life has but one source
of happiness. Were their charms the effect of that cold twinkling
flame which flutters round the hearts of most Frenchwomen, they
would be only dangerous to the peace and usefulness of one half of
society. But, instead of being the capricious tyrants of men, they
are, generally, their victims. Few, very few Spanish women, and
none, I will venture to say, among the Andalusians, have it in their
power to be coquettes. If it may be said without a solecism, there
is more of that vice in our men than in our females. The first,
leading a life of idleness, and deprived by an ignorant, oppressive,
and superstitious government, of every object that can raise and
feed an honest ambition, waste their whole youth, and part of their
manly age, in trifling with the best feelings of the tender sex, and
poisoning, for mere mischief’s sake, the very springs of domestic
happiness. But ours is the most dire and complex disease that ever
preyed upon the vitals of human society. With some of the noblest
qualities that a people can possess (you will excuse an involuntary
burst of national partiality), we are worse than degraded--we are
depraved, by that which is intended to cherish and exalt every
social virtue. Our corrupters, our mortal enemies, are religion and
government. To set the practical proofs of this bold position in a
striking light is, undoubtedly, beyond my abilities. Yet such, I must
say, is the force of the proofs I possess on this melancholy topic,
that they nearly overcome my mind with intuitive evidence. Let me,
then, take leave of the subject into which my feelings have hurried
me, by assuring you, that wherever the slightest aid is afforded to
the female mind in this country, it exhibits the most astonishing
quickness and capacity; and that, probably, no other nation in the
world can present more lovely instances of a glowing and susceptible
heart preserving unspotted purity, not from the dread of public
opinion, but in spite of its encouragements.