Letters from Spain ... Second edition. Revised and corrected by the author

Preface

TO THE SECOND EDITION That a work like the present should appear in a Second Edition, implies such a reception from the Public as demands the most sincere gratitude on my part. I am anxious, therefore, to make the only return I have in my power, by adding, as I conceive, some value to the work itself; not, in deed, from any material corrections, but by stamp ing the facts and descriptions which it contains, with the character of complete authenticity. The readers of Dobladds Letters may be sure that in them they have the real Memoirs of the person whose name is subscribed to this address. Even a

PREFACE.

. the disguise of that name was so contrived, as to be a mark of identity. Leucadio being derived from a Greek root which means white, the word Doblado was added, in allusion to the repetition of my family name, translated into Spanish, which my countrymen have forced upon us, to avoid the difficulty of an orthography and sound, perfectly at variance with their language. In short, Do blado and his inseparable friend, the Spanish clergyman, are but one and the same person ; whose origin, education, feelings, and early turn of thinking, have been made an introduction to the per sonal observations on his country, which, with a deep sense of their kindness, he again lays before the British Public. JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE. Chelsea, June 1st, 1825.

PREFACE.

TO THE FIRST EDITION. Some of the following Letters have been printed in the New Monthly Magazine. The Author would, indeed, be inclined to commit the whole collection to the candour of his readers without a prefatory address, were it not that the plan of his Work absolutely requires some explanation. The slight mixture of fiction which these Let ters contain, might raise a doubt whether the sketches of Spanish manners, customs, and opi- VI I'REFA CE. nions, by means of which the Author has en deavoured to pourtray the moral state of his country at a period immediately preceding, and in part coincident with the French invasion, may not be exaggerated by fancy, and coloured with a view to mere effect. It is chiefly on this account that the Author deems it necessary to assure the Public ot the reality of every circumstance mentioned in his book, except the name of Leucadio Doblado.

These Letters are in effect the faithful memoirs of a real Spanish clergyman, as far as his character and the events of his life can illustrate the state of the country which gave him birth. Doblado s Letters are dated from Spain, and, to preserve consistency, the Author is supposed to have returned thither after a residence of some years in England. This is another fictitious circumstance. Since the moment when the person disguised under

PREFACE.

. VII the above name left that beloved country, whose religious intolerance has embittered his life — that country which, boasting, at this moment, of a free constitution, still continues to deprive her children of the right to worship God according to their own conscience — he has not for a day quitted England, the land of his ancestors, and now the country ot his choice and adoption. It is not, however, from pique or resentmen*1* that the Author has dwelt so long and so warmly upon the painful and disgusting picture of Spanish bigotry. Spain, " with all her faults," is still and shall ever be the object of his love. But since no man, within the limits of her territory, can venture to lay open the canker which, fostered by religion, feeds on the root of her political improvements ; be it allowed a self-banished Spaniard to describe the sources of such a strange anomaly ' in the New Constitution of Spain, and thus to explain to such as may not be unacquainted with his name as a

PREFACE.

. Spanish writer, the true cause ot an absence which might otherwise be construed into a dereliction of duty, and a desertion of that post which both nature and affection marked so decidedly for the exertion of his humble talents. Chelsea, June 1822. TABLE or CONTENTS.

Letter 1

Mistakes of Travellers. — Townsend's Accuracy. — View of Cadiz from the Sea. — Religion blended with Public and Domestic Life in Spain. — Customs relating* to the Host or Eucharist. — Manners and Society at Cadiz. — Passage by Sea to Port Saint Mary's. — St. Lucar. — Passage up the Guadalquivir to Seville. — Construction and internal Economy of the Houses in that Town. — Knocking, and greeting at the Door. — Devotion of the People of Seville to the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary p. 1 — 22

Letter II

Difficulty of describing National Characters. — Nobles and Plebeians, in Spain. — Purity of Blood. — Tizon de Espana. Grandees Hidalgos in Low Life. — Execution of an Hidalgo. — Spanish Pride, visible among the Lower Classes. -r- Usual Employment of Day at Seville. — Spanish Politeness.— Absence of Jealousy in Modern Times. — Dinner. — Siesta. — Public Walks.— Dress of ihe Spanish Ladies.— Various Uses of the Fan.— Character of the Spanish Females . p. 23 — X TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Letter III

Eagerness of Free-thinking Spaniards to become acquainted, and their quickness in knowing one another. Inclosure of a detached Paper, intituled A few Facts connected with the Formation of the Intellectual and Moral Character of Spanish Clergyman ..... p. 52 — 8 Importance of examining the Tendency of Catholicism. — Account of two highly devout Roman Catholics. — Auricular Confession. — Education of a Spanish Boy. — Evils arising from the Celibacy of the Clergy. — Education under the Jesuits. — Congregation of Saint Philip Neri. — Exercises of Saint Ignatius. — Aristotelic Philosophy taught by the Dominicans. — Feyjoo's Works. — Spanish Universities andColleges, called Mayores. — Indirect Influence of the Inquisition on the State of Knowledge in Spain. — Mental Struggles of a young Spaniard on points connected with the established System of Faith. — Impressions produced by the Ceremony of Catholic Ordination. — Unity and Consistency of the Catholic System. — Train of Thought and Feeling leading to the final Rejection of Catholicism ...... p. 58 — 118

Letter IV

On Bull-fights, and other National Customs connected with those Amusements. p. 119 — 140

Letter V

A Journey to Osuna and Olvera. — A Spanish Country Inn. — The Play El Diablo Predicador Souls in Purgatory begged for : Lottery of Purgatory. — Character of Two Nuns at Osuna. — A Country Vicar. — Customs at Olvera. — Tapadas, or veiled Females A Dance. — The Riberas'' Lamp . p. 141 ]****o

Letter VI

The Yellow Fever at Seville, in 1800.— Spiritual Methods of stopping ils progress —Alcala de Guaddiia escapes the infec- TABLE OF CONTENTS. XI i lion — Two Spanish Missionaries.— , he Virgin oj the Eagle. — The Dawn Rosary.— Slate of Seville after the disappearance of the Disorder p. 17 1 —190

Letter VII

Monks and Friars. — Instances of gross misconduct aiming them. — Their Influence. — Brother Sebastian and Charles HI. — The Carthusians. — Hermits near Cordova. . p. 191 — 210

Letter VIII

Nuns. — Motives for taking the Veil. — Circumstances attending that Ceremony. — Account of a young Lady compelled by hei Mother to take the Monastic Vows. — Escriipulos, or Religious Anxiety Spiritual Flirtation. — Nun Doctors. p. 211 — 228

Letter IX

Memorandums of some Audalusian Customs and Festivals. — Saint Sebastian's Day : Carnival, p. 230. — Ash -Wednesday, p. 239.— Mid-lent, p. 24 5.— Passion, or Holy Week, p. 245. Passion Wednesday, p. 251. — Thursday in the Passion Week, p. 252.— Good Friday, p. 258 —Saturday before Easter, p. 264. — May Cross, p. 2C7.— Corpus Christi, p. 2C8. — Saint John's Eve, p. 274.— Saint Bartholomew, p. 277.— Detached Prejudices and Practices, p. 280.— Funerals of Infants and Maids, p. 282. — Spanish Christian Names, p. 280. — Christinas, p. 288.

. — An Account of the Suppression of the Jesuits iu Spain ........ p. 395 NOTES p.

Letter I

Seville, May 1798. I am inclined to think with you, that a Spaniard, who, like myself, has resided many years in Eng land, is, perhaps, the fittest person to write an account of life, manners and opinions as they exist in this country, and to shew them in the light which is most likely to interest an Englishman. The most acute and diligent travellers are subject to constant mistakes ; and perhaps the more so, for what is generally thought a circumstance in their favour — a moderate knowledge of foreign languages. A traveller who uses only his eyes, will confine himself to the description of external objects ; and though his narrative may be deficient in many topics of interest, it will certainly be exempt from great and ludicrous blunders. The difficulty, which a person, with a smattering of the language of the country he is visiting, expe- B riences every moment in the endeavour to com municate his own, and catch other men's thoughts, often urges him into a sort of mental rashness, which leads him to settle many a doubtful point for himself, and to forget the unlimited power, I should have said tyranny, of usage, in whatever relates to language.

I still recollect the unlucky hit I made on my arrival in London, when, anxious beyond measure to catch every idiomatic expression, and reading the huge inscription of the Cannon Brewery at Knightsbridge, as the building had some re semblance to the great cannon-foundry in this town, I settled it in my mind that the genuine English idiom, for what I should now call casting, was no other than brewing cannon. This, how ever, was a mere verbal mistake. Not so that which I made when the word nursery stared me in the face every five minutes, as in a fine after noon I approached your great metropolis, on the western road. Luxury and wealth, said I to my self, in a strain approaching to philosophic indignation, have at last blunted the best feelings of nature among the English. Surely, if I am to judge from this endless string of nurseries, the English ladies have gone a step beyond the unnatural practice of devolving their first maternal duties upon domestic hirelings.

Here, it seems, the poor helpless infants are sent to be kept and suckled in crowds, in a decent kind of Foundling- -Hospitals. You may easily guess that I knew but one signifi cation of the words nursing and nursery. For tunately I was not collecting materials for a book of travels during a summer excursion, otherwise I should now be enjoying all the honour of the originality of my remarks on the customs and manners of Old England. From similar mistakes I think myself safe enough in speaking of my native country ; but I wish I could feel equal confidence as to the execution of the sketches you desire to obtain from me. I know you too well to doubt that my letters will, by some chance or other, find their way to some of the London Magazines, before they have been long in your hands. And only think, I intreat you, how I shall fret and fidget under the apprehension that some of your pert newspaper writers may raise a laugh against me in some of those Suns or Stars, which, in spite of intervening seas and mountains, can dart a baneful influence, and blast the cha racter of infallibility, as an English scholar, which I have acquired since my return to Spain.

I have so strongly rivetted the admiration of the Irish merchants in this place, that, in spite of their ob jection to my not calling tea ta, they submit to my decision every intricate question about your pro voking shall and will : and surely it would be no small disparagement, in this land of proud Dons, to be posted up in a London paper as a murderer of the King's English. How fortunate was our famous b Spanish traveller, my relative, Espriella* (tor you know that there exists a family connexion between us by my mother's side) to find one of the best writers in England, willing to translate his letters. But since you will not allow me to write in my own language, and since, to say the truth, I feel a pleasure in using that which reminds me of the dear land which has been my second home — the land where I drew my first breath of liberty — the land which taught me how to retrieve, though im perfectly and with pain, the time which, under the influence of ignorance and superstition, I had lost in early youth — I will not delay a task which, should circumstances allow me to complete it, I intend as a token of friendship to you, and of gratitude and love to your country.

Few travellers are equal to your countryman, Mr. Townsend, in the truth and liveliness of his descriptions, as well as in the mass of useful in formation and depth of remark with which he has presented the public*. It would be impossible for any but a native Spaniard to add to the collection of traits descriptive of the national character, which animates his narrative ; and I must confess that he has rather confined me in the selection of my topics. He has, indeed, fallen into such mis takes and inaccuracies, as nothing short of perfect familiarity with a country can prevent. But I * See Espriella's " Letters from England." | He visited Spain in the years 1786 and 1787. may safely recommend him to you as a guide for a fuller acquaintance with the places whose inhabitants I intend to make the chief subject of my letters.

But that I may not lay upon you the necessity of a constant reference, I shall begin by providing your fancy with a " local habitation" for the people whose habits and modes of thinking I will forthwith attempt to pourtray. The view of Cadiz from the sea, as, in a fine day, you approach its magnificent harbour, is one of the most attractive beauty. The strongdeep light of a southern sky, reflected from the lofty buildings of white free stone, which face the bay, rivets the eye of the navigator from the very verge of the horizon. The sea actually washes the ramparts, except where, on the opposite side of the town, it is divided by a narrow neck of land, which joins Cadiz to the neighbouring continent. When, therefore, you begin to discover the upper part of the buildings, and the white pinnacles of glazed earthenware, resembling china, that ornament the parapets with which their flat roofs are crowned; the airy structure, melting at times into the distant glare of the waves, is more like a pleasing delusion — a kind of Fata Morgana — than the lofty, uniform massive buildings which, rising gradually before the vessel, bring you back, however unwilling, to the dull realities of life.

After landing on a crowded quay, you are led the whole depth of the ramparts along a dark vaulted passage, at the farthest end of which, new-comers must submit to the scrutiny of the inferior custom-house officers. Eighteen pence slipped into their hands with the keys of your trunks, will spare you the vexation of seeing your clothes and linen scattered about in the utmost disorder. I forgot to tell you, that scarcely does a boat with passengers approach the landing-stairs of the quay, when three or four Gallegos, (natives of the province of Galicia) who are the only porters in this town, will take a fearful leap into the boat, and begin a scuffle, which ends by the stronger seizing upon the luggage. The successful champion be comes your guide through the town to the place where you wish to take up your abode.

As only two gates are used as a thoroughfare — the sea-gate, Puerto, de la Mar, and the land-gate, Puerta de Tierra — those who come by water are obliged to cross the great Market — a place not unlike Covent Garden, where the country people expose all sorts of vegetables and fruits for sale. Fish is also sold at this place, where you see it laid out upon the pavement in the same state as it was taken out of the net. The noise and din of this market are absolutely intolerable. All classes of Spaniards, not excluding the ladies, are rather loud and boisterous in their speech. But here is a conten tion between three or four hundred peasants, who shall make his harsh and guttural voice be upper most, to inform the passengers of the price and quality of his goods. In a word, the noise is such as will astound any one, who has not lived for some years near Cornhill or Temple Bar.

Religion, or, if you please, superstition, is so intimately blended with the whole system of public and domestic life in Spain, that I fear I shall tire you with the perpetual recurrence of that subject. I am already compelled, by an involuntary train of ideas, to enter upon that endless topic. If, how ever, you wish to become thoroughly acquainted with the national character of my country, you must learn the character of the national religion. The influence of religion in Spain is boundless. It divides the whole population into two comprehen sive classes, bigots and dissemblers. Do not, how ever, mistake me. I am very far from wishing to libel my countrymen. If I use these invidious words, it is not that I believe every Spaniard either a downright bigot or a hypocrite : yet I cannot shut my eyes to the melancnoly fact, that the system under which we live must unavoidably give, even to the best among us, a taint of one of those vices.

Where the law threatens every dissenter from such an encroaching system of divinity as that of the Church of Rome, with death and infamy — where every individual is not only invited, but enjoined, at the peril of both body and soul, to assist in enforcing that law ; must not an undue and tyrannical influence accrue to the be lieving party ? Are not such as disbelieve in secret, condemned to a life of degrading deference, or of heart-burning silence ? Silence, did I say ? No ; every day, every hour, renews the necessity of ex plicitly declaring yourself what you are not. The most contemptible individual may, at pleasure, force out a lie from an honestly proud bosom. I must not, however, keep you any longer in suspense as to the origin of this flight — this un prepared digression from the plain narrative I had begun.

You know me well enough to believe that after a long residence in England, my landing at Cadiz, instead of cheering my heart at the sight of my native country, would naturally produce a mixed sensation, in which pain and gloominess must have had the ascendant. I had enjoyed the blessings of liberty for several years ; and now, alas ! I perceived that I had been irresistibly drawn back by the holiest ties of affection, to stretch out my hands to the manacles, and bow my neck to that yoke, which had formerly galled my very soul. The convent of San Juan de Dios — (laugh, my dear friend, if you will : at what you call my rnona chophobia ; you may do so, who have never lived within range of any of these European jungles, where lurks every thing that is hideous and ve nomous) — well, then, San Juan de Dios is the first remarkable object that meets the eye upon en tering Cadiz by the sea-gate.

A single glance at the convent had awakened the strongest and most rooted aversions of my heart, when just as I was walking into the nearest street to avoid the crowd, the well-remembered sound of a hand-bell made me instantly aware that, unless pretending not to hear it, I could retrace my steps, and turn another cor ner, I should be obliged to kneel in the mud till a priest, who was carrying the consecrated wafer to a dying person, had moved slowly in his sedan chair from the farthest end of the street to the place where I began to hear the bell. The rule on these occasions, is expressed in a proverbial saying — al Rey, en viendolo ; a Dios, en oyendolo — which, after supplying its elliptical form, means that external homage is due to the king upon seeing him : and to God — i. e. the host, preceded by its never-failing appendage, the bell — 'the very moment you hear him.

I must add, as a previous explanation of what is to follow, that God and the king are so coupled in the language of this country, that the same title of Majesty is applied to both. You hear, from the pulpit, the duties that men owe to both Majesties; and a foreigner is often surprised at the hopes expressed by the Spaniards, that his Majesty will be pleased to grant them life and health for some years more. I must add a very ludicrous circumstance arising from this absurd form of speech. When the priest, attended by the clerk, and surrounded by eight or ten people, bearing lighted flambeaus, has broken into the chamber of the dying person, and gone through a form of prayer, half Latin, half Spanish, which lasts for about twenty minutes, one of the wafers is taken out of a little gold casket, and put into the mouth of the patient as he lies in bed.

To swallow the wafer without the loss of any particle — which, according to the Council of Trent, (and I fully agree with the fathers) contains the same Divine person as the whole — is an operation of some diffi culty. To obviate, therefore, the impropriety of lodging a sacred atom, as it might easily happen, in a bad tooth, the clerk comes forth with a glass of water, and in a firm and loud voice asks the sick person, " Is his Majesty gone down?"* The answer enables the learned clerk to decide whether the passage is to be expedited by means of his cooling draught. But I must return to my Gallego, and myself. No sooner had I called him back, as if I had sud denly changed my mind as to the direction in which we were to go, than with a most determined tone he said " Dios — Su Magestad." Pretending not to hear, I turned sharply round, and was now making my retreat — but it would not do.

Fired with holy zeal, he raised his harsh voice, and in the barbarous accent of his province, repeated three or four times, " Dios — Su Magestad ;" adding, with an oath, " This man is a heretic !" There was no resisting that dreadful word : it pinned me to the ground. I took out my pocket- * The Spanish words are Ha pasado su Magestad? handkerchief, and laying it on the least dirty part of the pavement, knelt upon it — not indeed to pray; but while, as another act of conformity to the custom of the country, I was beating my breast with my clenched right hand, as gently as it could be done without offence — to curse the hour when I had submitted thus to degrade myself, and trem ble at the mere suspicion of a being little removed from the four-footed animals, whom it was his oc cupation to relieve of their burdens.

In the more populous towns of Spain, these unpleasant meetings are frequent. Nor are you free from being disturbed by the holy bell in the most retired part of your house. Its sound operates like magic upon the Spaniards. In the midst of a gay, noisy party, the word — " Su Magestad" — will bring every one upon his knees until the tink ling dies in the distance. Are you at dinner? — you must leave the table. In bed ? — you must, at least, sit up. But the most preposterous effect of this custom is to be seen at the theatres. On the approach of the host to any military guard, the drum beats, the men are drawn out, and as soon as the priest can be seen, they bend the right knee, and invert the firelocks, placing the point of the bayonet on the ground. As an officer's guard is always stationed at the door of a Spanish theatre, I have often laughed in my sleeve at the effect of the chamade both upon the actors and the company.

" Dios, Dios!" resounds from all parts of the house, and every one falls that moment upon his knees. The actors' ranting, or the rattling of the castanets in the fandango, is hushed for a few minutes, till the sound of the bell growing fainter and fainter, the amusement is resumed, and the devout performers are once more upon their legs, anxious to make amends for the interruption. So powerful is the effect of early habit, that I had been for some weeks in London before I could hear the postman's bell in the evening, without feeling instinctively inclined to perform a due genuflection. Cadiz, though fast declining from the wealth and splendour to which she had reached during her exclusive privilege to trade with the Colonies of South America, is still one of the few towns of Spain, which, for refinement, can be compared with some of the second rate in England.

The people are hospitable and cheerful. The women, without being at all beautiful, are really fascinating. Some of the Tertulias, or evening parties, which a simple introduction to the lady of the house entitles any one to attend daily, are very lively and agreeable. No stiffness of etiquette prevails : you may drop in when you like, and leave the room when it suits you. The young ladies, however, will soon either find out, or imagine, the house and company to which you give the preference ; and a week's acquaintance will lay you open to a great deal of good-natured bantering upon the cause of your short calls. Singing to the guitar, or the piano, is a very common resource at these meetings. But the musical acquirements of the Spanish ladies cannot bear the most distant comparison with those of the female amateurs in London.

In singing, however, they possess one great advantage — that of opening the mouth — which your English Misses seem to consider as a great breach of propriety. The inhabitants of Cadiz, being confined to the rock on which their city is built, have made the towns of Chiclana, Puerto Real, and Port St. Mary's, their places of resort, especially in the summer. The passage, by water, to Port St. Mary's, is, upon an average, of about an hour and a half, and the intercourse between the two places, nearly as constant as between a large city and its suburbs. Boats full of passengers are incessantly crossing from day-break till sun-set. This passage is not, however, without danger in case of a strong wind from the east, in summer, or of rough weather, in winter. At the mouth of the Guadalete, a river that runs into the bay of Cadiz, by Port St. Mary's, there are extensive banks of shifting sands, which every year prove fatal to many.

The passage-boats are often excessively crowded with people of all descriptions. The Spaniards, however, are not so shy of strangers as I have generally found your countrymen. Place any two of them, male or female, by the merest chance, together, and they will immediately enter into some conversation. absolute disregard to a stranger, which custom has established in England, would be taken for an insult in any part of Spain ; consequently little gravity is preserved in these aquatic excursions. In fine weather, when the female part of the company are not troubled with fear or sickness, the passengers indulge in a boisterous sort of mirth, which is congenial to Andalusians of all classes. It is known by the old Spanish word Ar ana, pronounced with the Southern aspirate, as if written Haranna.

I do not know whether I shall be able to convey a notion of this kind of amuse ment. It admits of no liberties of action, while every allowance is made for words which do not amount to gross indecency. It is — if I may use the expression — a conversational roiv ; or, to indulge a more strange assemblage of ideas, the Arana is to conversation, what romping is to walking arm in arm. In the midst, however, of hoarse laugh and loud shouting, as soon as the boat reaches the shoals, the steersman, raisinohis voice with a gravity becoming a parish-clerk, addresses himself to the company in words amount ing to these — " Let us pray for the souls of all that have perished in this place." The pious address of the boatman has a striking effect upon the company : for one or two minutes every one mutters a private prayer, whilst a sailor-boy goes round collecting a few copper coins from the passengers, which are religiously spent in procuring masses for the souls in purgatory.

This ceremony being over, the riot is resumed with unabated spirit, till the very point of landing. I went by land to St. Lucar, a town of some wealth and consequence at the mouth of the Guadalquivir, or Bœtis, where this river is lost in the sea through a channel of more than a mile in breadth. The passage to Seville, of about twenty Spanish leagues up the river, is tedious ; but I had often performed it, in early youth, with great pleasure, and I now quite forgot the change which twenty years must have made upon my feelings. No Spanish conveyance is either comfortable or expeditious. The St. Lucar boats are clumsy and heavy, without a single accommodation for passen gers. Half of the hold is covered with hatches, but so low, that one cannot stand upright under them. A piece of canvass, loosely let down to the bottom of the boat, is the only partition be tween the passengers and the sailors.