“Carnival,” properly so called, according to Mr. Blanco White, is
limited to Quinquagesima Sunday, and the two following days, a period
which the lower classes pass in drinking and rioting in those streets
where the meaner sort of houses abound, and especially in the vicinity
of the large courts, or halls, called Corrales, surrounded with small
rooms or cells, where numbers of the poorest inhabitants live in filth,
misery, and debauch. Before these horrible places, are seen crowds of
men, women, and children, singing, dancing, drinking, and pursuing each
other with handfuls of hair-powder. I have never seen, however, an
instance of their taking liberties with any person above their class;
yet, such bacchanals produce a feeling of insecurity, which makes the
approach of those spots very unpleasant during the carnival.
At Madrid, where whole quarters of the town, such as Avapiés and
Maravillas, are inhabited exclusively by the rabble, these “Saturnalia”
are performed upon a larger scale. Mr. White says, I once ventured with
three or four friends, all muffled in our cloaks, to parade the Avapiés
during the carnival. The streets were crowded with men, who, upon the
least provocation, real or imaginary, would have instantly used the
knife, and of women equally ready to take no slight share in any
quarrel: for these lovely creatures often carry a poniard in a sheath,
thrust within the upper part of the left stocking, and held up by the
garter. We were, however, upon our best behaviour, and by a look of
complacency on their sports, and keeping at the most respectful distance
from the women, came away without meeting with the least disposition to
insolence or rudeness.
A gentleman, who, either out of curiosity or depraved taste, attends the
amusements of the vulgar, is generally respected, provided he is a mere
spectator, and appears indifferent to the females. The ancient Spanish
jealousy is still observable among the lower classes; and while not a
sword is drawn in Spain upon a love-quarrel, the knife often decides the
claims of more humble lovers. Yet love is by no means the main
instigator of murder among us. A constitutional irritability, especially
in the southern provinces, leads, without any more assignable reason, to
the frequent shedding of blood. A small quantity of wine, nay, the mere
blowing of the easterly wind, called “Solano,” is infallibly attended
with deadly quarrels in Andalusia. The average of dangerous or mortal
wounds, on every great festival at Seville, is, I believe, about two or
three. We have, indeed, a well-endowed hospital named de los Herídos,
which, though open to all persons who meet with dangerous accidents, is,
from this unhappy disposition of the people, almost confined to the
wounded. The large arm-chair, where the surgeon in attendance examines
the patient just as he is brought in, usually upon a ladder, is known in
the whole town by the name of “Silla de los Guapos,” the Bullies’ chair.
Every thing, in fact, attests both the generality and inveteracy of that
horrible propensity among the Spaniards.[75]
[75] Doblado’s Letters from Spain.
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