Every night, after his turn at the circus was over poor old Pizarro used to walk home alone under my balcony, open his stable door with his own latch-key, or at least his trunk, and put himself to bed like any Christian.

One of the most fashionable amusements in Madrid is to attend on the morning of the bull-fight while the espadas choose the particular bulls they wish to have as enemy, and affix their colours, the large rosette of ribbon which shows which of the toreros the bull is to meet in deadly conflict. The bulls are then placed in their iron cages in the order in which they are to enter the arena. The fashionable ladies and other aficionados of the sport then drive back to Madrid to luncheon and to prepare for the entertainment of the afternoon.



CHAPTER VIII

THE PRESS AND ITS LEADERS

Perhaps there are few countries where the influence of the Press is greater than in Spain, and this is largely due to the fact that while the journals are read by everyone, for a great number of the people they form the only literature. The free library is not yet universal in the country, though, doubtless, in the near future it may become general. In the meantime, every imaginable shade of political opinion has its organ; even the Bull-Ring has at least two excellently illustrated newspapers: and the extra sheets, printed hastily and sold immediately after the corrida has terminated, have an enormous sale. Deserving of mention is the curious little paper known as the "Night-cap of Madrid," because it is supposed to be impossible for anyone to go to rest until he has read the late edition, which comes out not long before midnight. It is said to have no politics, and only pretends to give all the news of the world. There are many illustrated papers, both comic and serious. The charmingly artistic little Blanco y Negro, beautifully gotten up, is at the head of all the more dignified illustrated journals of the country. There are no kiosks; the papers are sold by children or by old women in the streets, and the Madrid night is rent by the appalling cries of these itinerant vendors of literature. For the Spanish newspaper is always literature, which is a good deal more than can be said for some of the English halfpenny Press. Whatever may be the politics of the particular journal, its Castellano is perfect; perhaps a little stilted or pompous, but always dignified and well-written.

The journalists of Madrid have a special facility for saying with an air of extreme innocence what they, for various reasons, do not care to express quite openly. Allegories, little romances, stories of fact full of clever words of "double sense" make known to the initiated, or those who know how to read between the lines, much that might otherwise awaken the disagreeable notice of the censor, when there is one. There is an air of good-natured raillery which takes off the edge of political rancour, and keeps up the amenities and the dignity of the Spanish Press. Only the other day one of the leading English journals pointed out what a dignified part the Press of Madrid, of every shade of politics, had played in the recent effort made by some foreign newspapers—of a class which so far does not exist in Spain—to make mischief and awaken national jealousy between England and Spain on the subject of the works now being carried out by the English Government at Gibraltar. The Spanish newspapers, of all shades of opinion, have made it abundantly evident that their country entertains no unworthy suspicion of England's good faith, and has not the smallest intention of being led into strained or otherwise than perfectly friendly relations with their old allies of the Peninsular War, to gratify the rabid enmity of a section of a Press foreign to both countries. This is, perhaps, the more remarkable because a certain amount of misunderstanding of England exists among some elements of the Spanish Press.

The Liberal party in Spain is, in fact, the party of progress, and the nation has at last awakened from its condition of slavery under unworthy rulers, and is practically united in its determination to return to its place among the nations of Europe.

There are many shades of Liberalism, and even Republicanism, but, as will be seen in another place, the real welfare of the people, and not the success of a mere political party, is the underlying motive of all, however wild and unpractical may be some of the dreams for the carrying out of these ideas of universal progress. It is impossible for a Spaniard to conceive of maligning or belittling his own country for merely party purposes; and, therefore, when he finds an English newspaper calling itself "Liberal" he imagines the word to have the same signification it has in his own country. So it has come to pass that many of the worst misrepresentations—to use a very mild term—of a portion of the English Press have been reproduced in Spanish newspapers, and believed by their readers.

Among the principal newspapers, in a crowd of less important ones, La Epoca, Conservative and dynastic ranks first; this is the journal of the aristocrats, of the "upper ten thousand," or those who aspire to be so, and it ranks as the doyen of the whole Press. Its circulation is not so large as that of some of the other papers, but its clientele is supposed to be of the best. El Nacional is also Conservative, but belonging to the party of Romero Robledo. What the exact politics of that variation of Conservatism might be, it is difficult, I might almost say impossible, for a stranger to say. If you were told nothing about it, and took it up accidentally to read of current events, you would certainly suppose it to be independent, with a decidedly Liberal tendency. Still it calls itself Conservative.

El Correo is Liberal, of the special type of Sagasta, the present Prime Minister. El Espanol, which also gives one the impression of independence, is Liberal after the manner of Gemaro. El Heraldo, calling itself Diario Independente, is credited with being the Liberal organ of Canalijas. El Liberal and El Pais are Republican, and El Correo Espanol is Carlist, or clerical. This paper appears to be looked upon a good deal in the nature of a joke by its colleagues, and quotations from it are always accompanied by notes of exclamation.

La Correspondencia de Espana is a paper all by itself, an invention of Spanish journalism, and its unprecedented success is due to many of its quite unique peculiarities. Its originator, now a millionaire, is proud of relating that he arrived in Madrid with two dollars in his pocket. He it was who conceived the brilliant idea of founding a journal which should be the special organ of all. "Diario politico independiente, y de noticias: Eco imparcial de la opinion y de la prensa," he calls it, and the fourth page, devoted to advertisements, would make the fortune of ten others. His boast was that it had no editor, paid no writers, and employed no correspondents. It simply possessed a certain number of "caterers" for news, who thrust themselves everywhere, picking up morsels of news—good, bad, and indifferent, for the most part scribbled in pencil and thrown into a receptacle from which they are drawn in any order, or none, and handed to the printer as "copy"; coming out in short, detached paragraphs of uneven length, ranging from three lines to twenty. Extracts from foreign newspapers, official news, provincial reports, money matters, religious announcements, accidents, everything comes out pell-mell—absolutely all "the voices of the flying day," in Madrid and everywhere else, in one jumble, without order or sequence, one paragraph frequently being a direct contradiction to another in the same sheet. There are three editions during the day, but the "Night-cap," which sums up them all, appears about ten o'clock or later, and it is scarcely an exaggeration to say that it is bought by almost every householder in the city.

The nature of the Correspondencia has changed very little since its earliest days. It is a little more dignified, condescends even to short articles on current subjects of interest, but it is the same universal provider of news and gossip as ever. It goes with the times; so far as it has any leanings at all, it is with the Government of the hour; but it is for the most part quite impersonal, and it makes itself agreeable to all parties alike. Santa Ana, the clever initiator of this new and highly successful adventure in journalism, has two other very prosperous commercial enterprises in his hands—the manufacture of paper for printing and the supply of natural flowers. He himself is an enormous and indefatigable worker, personally looks after his various businesses, especially the Correspondencia, and, mindful of his own early difficulties, he has created benefit societies for his workmen.

He who, being a foreigner, would attempt to understand Spanish politics, deserves to be classed with the bravest leaders of forlorn hopes. In the first place, it is doubtful whether Spaniards understand them themselves, although they talk, for the most part, of nothing else—except bulls. Whenever and wherever two or three men or boys are gathered together, you may be quite certain as to the subject of their conversation—that is, if they show signs of excitement and interest in the matter under discussion. Each man you meet gives you the whole matter in a nut-shell: he has studied politics ever since he was able to talk; all the other innumerable parties besides his own are nada! he can tell you exactly what is wrong with his country, and, what is more, exactly how it may all be made right. The only thing which puzzles one is that all the nut-shells are different, and, as there are an unlimited number of them, all that one carefully learns to-day has to be as carefully unlearned to-morrow, and a fresh adjustment made of one's political spectacles. After all, however, this is very much what would happen in any country if we were in turn to sit at the feet of successive teachers, and try to bring their doctrines into any kind of accord. The peculiarity in Spain lies rather in the multiplicity of private political opinions and the energy with which they are expressed, and in the fact that they are all honest.

Emerson has somewhere said that "inconsistency is the bugbear of little minds." The Spanish politician has evidently not a little mind, for he has no fear whatever of inconsistency, nor, in fact, of making a volte-face whenever he sees any reason for doing so. There are Conservatives, Liberals, Republicans, Radicals, Socialists, as in other countries, but there are, besides all these, an infinite number of shades and tones of each political belief, each represented, as we have seen, by a newspaper of its own, and, for the most part, bearing the name of one man. It would seem, then, that you have only to make yourself acquainted with the opinions, or rather with the political acts, of that one man, and there you are! Vain and fond fancy! He has been a rabid Republican, perhaps, or he has belonged, at least, to the party which put up in Madrid in conspicuous letters, "The bastard race of the Bourbons is for ever fallen. Fit punishment of their obstinacy!" but you will find him to-day lending all the force of his paper to the support of the Queen Regent, and at the same time allying himself with the various classes of Republicans, even to the followers of Zorilla, who have, at any rate till now, been consistent enemies and haters of the Bourbon.

Senor Don Romero Robledo, one among the politicians of the day who possess the gift of perfect oratory, so common among his countrymen, is an example of this puzzling "open mind." He appeared first in the character of revolutionist in 1868; then he became the Minister of the Interior in Amadeo's short reign, held somewhat aloof from the wild experiment in a republic of Castelar, joined the party of Don Alfonso on the eve of its success, and supported Canovas del Castillo in his somewhat retrograde policy in the restoration of the very Bourbon whom he had announced as "banished for ever," and, in fact, by his admirable genius for organising his party, enabled the Government of Canovas to continue to exist. It is said of him that he "buys men as one would buy sheep," and that he will serve any cause so long as he has the management of it, or rather so long as he may pull the wires. Comte Vasili says of him: "In politics, especially Conservative politics, men like Romero Robledo are necessary, finding easily that 'the end justifies the means,' energetic, ambitious, always in the breach opposing their qualities to the invasions of the parties of extremes." This was written of him some fifteen years ago by one eminently qualified to judge. At the present moment we find Senor Romero Robledo refusing office, but consulted by the Queen Regent in every difficulty. In the late crisis, when the Conservative party under Silvela, called into office for the sake of carrying the extremely unpopular marriage of the Princess of Asturias with the Count of Caserta, had nearly managed to wreck the monarchy, or, at any rate, the regency, and to bring the always dangerous clerical question to an acute stage by suspending the constitutional guarantees over the whole of Spain, it was Romero Robledo who told the Queen quite plainly that before anything else could be done the guarantees must be restored, that the liberties of the people could not be interfered with, and that, in short, the Liberal party must be called into office. Then we find him holding meetings in which Conservatives, Republicans, even Zorillistas, all combined, enthusiastically declaring that they are on the side of order and progress, agreeing to hold up England, under her constitutional monarch, as the most really democratic and free of all nations, since in no other country, republican or otherwise, is the government, as a matter of fact, so entirely in the hands of the people; swearing eternal enmity against the interference of the clergy in government or in education, but counselling "quiet determination without rancour or bigotry in dealing with those of the clergy who openly, or through the confessional, attempt to usurp authority which it is intended they shall never again acquire in Spain." In fact, to read Senor Romero Robledo's discourses on these occasions, and the excellent articles in the newspaper which represents his views, El Nacional, one would imagine the Golden Age to have dawned for Spain. Liberty, honour, real religion, progress in science, art, manufactures, trade, the purification of politics, the ideal of good government—these are only a few of the things to which this amalgamation of parties is solemnly pledged.

One thing, at least, is promising among so much that might be put down as "words, words": a general agreement as to the wisdom of making the best of the present situation, opposing a firm resistance to any attempt at a return to absolutism on the part of the monarchy, or domination in temporal matters by the Church; but no change, no more pronunciamientos, no more civil wars. Whenever the political parties of a country merge their differences of opinion in one common cause, the end may be foreseen. This was what happened in 1868; and if the party of Romero Robledo is what it represents itself to be and holds together, we may hope to see the reign of the young Alfonso XIII. open with good auguries this year (1902), as it seems to be certain that he is to attain his majority two years in advance of the usual time.

The life, political career, and retirement of Emilio Castelar is one of the most pathetic pictures in history, and one altogether Spanish in character. It was after Amadeo had thrown down his crown, exclaiming, "A son of Savoy does not wear a crown on sufferance!" that the small party of Republicans—which Prim had said did not exist, and which had in fact only become a party at all during the disastrous period of uncertainty between the expulsion of Isabel II. and the election of the Italian prince—edged its way to the front, and Castelar became the head of something much worse than a paper constitution—a republic of visionaries. Don Quijote de la Mancha himself could scarcely have made a more pure-intentioned yet more unpractical President. Castelar, with his honest, unsophisticated opinions and theories, his unexampled oratory, which is said to have carried away crowds of men who did not understand or hear a word that he said, with the rhythm of his language, the simple majesty and beauty of his delivery, launched the nation into a government that might have been suited to the angels in heaven, or to what the denizens of this earth may become in far distant aeons of evolution—a republic of dreams, headed by a dreamer. The awakening was rude, but it was efficient. When Castelar found that in place of establishing a millennium of peace and universal prosperity, he had let loose over the land all the elements of disorder and of evil, he had the greatness to acknowledge himself mistaken: his own reputation never troubled him, and he admitted that the Cortes, from which he had hoped so much, worked evil, not good. It is said that he himself called on General Pavia, the Captain-General of Madrid, to clear them out. The deputies—Castelar had withdrawn—sat firm: "Death rather than surrender," they cried. Pavia, however, ordered his men to fire once down the empty lobbies, and the hint was enough: the Cortes dispersed, and Pavia, had he so minded it, might have been military dictator of Spain. But he had no such ambition, though there were not wanting those who ascribed it to him.



As for Castelar, when angrily charged with inconsistency, he said: "Charge me with inconsistency, if you please. I will not defend myself. Have I the right to prefer my own reputation to the safety of my country? Let my name perish, let posterity pronounce its anathema against me, let my contemporaries send me into exile! Little care I! I have lived long enough! But let not the Republic perish through my weaknesses, and, above all, let no one say that Spain has perished in our hands!" Castelar went back to his chair of philosophy, which he had never resigned, poor as he left it, to the modest home and the devoted sister whom he loved so well—and no one laughed! Is there really any other country than Spain where such things can happen? His enthusiasm, his high-mindedness, his failures, his brave acknowledgment that he had failed, were accepted by the country in the exact spirit in which he had offered himself to her service, and the memory of Castelar stands as high to-day as ever it did in the respectful admiration of his fellow-countrymen.



CHAPTER IX

POLITICAL GOVERNMENT

The Government of Spain ever since the restoration of Don Alfonso XII. has been in reality what it was only in name before—a constitutional monarchy. During the first years of the young King's reign, Canovas del Castillo being Prime Minister, there was a distinctly reactionary tendency from the Liberalism of Prim and the revolutionary party of 1868. It was almost impossible that it should be otherwise, considering the wild tumult of the varying opinions and the experiments in government that the country had passed through; and some of the difficulties of the situation to-day are no doubt due to the concessions made to the ultra-Conservative party in the re-introduction of the religious orders, which had been suppressed during the regency of Cristina, and had never been tolerated even during the reign of the piadosa, Isabel II.

Prim had, from the first moment that the success of the Revolution was assured and the Queen and her camarilla had crossed the frontier to seek asylum in France, declared for a constitutional monarchy. "How can you have a monarchy without a king?" he was asked by Castelar. "How can you have a republic without republicans!" was his reply. He might have made himself king or military dictator, but he wanted to be neither; nor would he hear of Montpensier, to whom Topete and Serrano had pledged themselves.

The House of Savoy was the next heir to the Spanish throne, had the Bourbons become extinct, and to it the first glances of the Spanish king-maker were directed, but difficulties arose from the dislike of the Duke of Aosta himself to the scheme. A prince of some Liberal country was what was wanted: there was even some talk of offering the crown to the English Duke of Edinburgh, while one party dreamed of an Iberian amalgamation, and suggested Dom Luis of Portugal or his father Dom Ferdinand, the former regent. The candidature of Prince Leopold of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, who was a Roman Catholic, was looked upon with a certain amount of favour, but at the eleventh hour Napoleon III. made this scheme a pretext for the quarrel with Prussia which led to the fateful war of 1870 and 1871. Eventually, almost two years after the outbreak of the Revolution, Amadeo of Savoy was chosen by the Cortes at Madrid by a majority of one hundred and five votes, only twenty-three being given for Montpensier and sixty-three for a republic.

On the day that King Amadeo set foot on Spanish soil Prim was assassinated; it was perfectly well known at whose instigation, and the man whom the Spaniards themselves said was demasiado honesto (too honourable) for the hotch-potch of political parties into which he was thrown without a friend or helper, began his vain effort to rule a foreign nation in a constitutional manner. After he had thrown up the thankless task in despair, the absurd Republic of Zorilla and Castelar made confusion worse confounded, and it was with a feeling of relief to all that the pronunciamiento of Martinez Campos at Muviedro put an end to the Spanish Republic under Serrano, and proclaimed the son of Isabel II. as King.

He was but a lad of seventeen, but he had been educated in England; he was known to be brave, dignified, and extremely liberal, so that he was acclaimed throughout Spain, and during his short life he fully justified the high opinion formed of him. But the Government of Canovas was reactionary, and when the unexpected death of Alfonzo XII. left his young wife, the present Maria Cristina of Austria, a widow under exceptionally trying circumstances, Canovas himself placed his resignation in her hands, knowing that the Liberals were the party of the nation, and promised to give his own best efforts to work with what had up to then been his Opposition, for the good of the country and of the expected child, who a few months later had the unusual experience of being "born a king."

Whatever may be said about the present Regent,—though in truth little but good has been said or thought of her,—she has been most loyal to the constitution, holding herself absolutely aloof from all favouritism or even apparent predilection. She has devoted her life to the education of her son and to his physical well-being, for he was not a strong child in his early years, and she has done her best, possibly more than any but a woman could have done, to keep the ship of State not only afloat, but making headway during the minority of her son.

Two things militate against good government in Spain, and will continue to do so until the whole system is changed: what is known in the country as caciquismo, and the pernicious custom of changing all the Government officials, down to the very porter at the doors, with every change of ministry. It is much, however, that the Government does go out in a constitutional manner instead of by a military pronunciamiento on each occasion, as in the old days; also that a civilian and not a soldier is always at the head of it. In reality, there are two great parties in Madrid, and only two: the Empleados and the Cesantes—in plain English, the "Ins" and the "Outs." Whatever ministry is in power has behind it an immense army of provincial governors, secretaries, clerks, down to the porters, and probably even the charwomen who clean out the Government offices. This state of things is repeated over the whole country, and there is naturally created and sustained an enormous amount of bribery and corruption, which is continually at work discrediting all governments and giving to Spanish affairs that "bad name" which, according to our old proverb, is as bad as hanging. The Cesantes haunt certain cafes and possess certain newspapers, and the Empleados other cafes and other papers. The "Outs" and the "Ins" meet at night to discuss their prospects, and wonderful are the stories invented at these reunions, some of which even find their way into English newspapers—if their correspondents are not up to the ways of Spain—for we read ludicrous accounts of things supposed to have been taking place, and are treated to solemn prophecies of events never likely to occur, even in first-class English journals. It is naturally the interest of these subordinate employees of a vicious system to hasten or retard the day that shall see their respective chiefs change position, and if a few plausible untruths can do it, be assured they will not be wanting. Both in the popular novels, de costumbres, and in actual life, it is the commonest thing to hear a man described as a Cesante, in the same way that we should speak of him as being an engineer or a doctor, as if being out of place were just as much an employment as any other.

One thing that appears strange to a foreigner about these Cesantes is that they never seem even to dream of seeking other employment; they simply sit down to wait until their particular patron is "in" again, and in the old days they were a constant force making for the pronunciamiento which would sooner or later make a place for them. As they had no means of existence except when in receipt of Government pay, it is easy to understand that, according to their views, they had to prepare for the evil day which assuredly awaited them, by appropriating and exacting all the money that was possible during their short reign of power. Probably the only difference between the highest and the lowest official was in the actual amount he was able to acquire when he was "in."

This system, subversive of all efficient service, and leading inevitably to the worst evils of misappropriation of the national funds, had perhaps its worst aspects in the colonies. A Government berth in Cuba was a recognised means of making a fortune, or of rehabilitating a man who had ruined himself by gambling at home. Appointments were made, not because the man was fitted for the post, but because he had influence—frequently that of some lady—with the person with whom the appointments lay, or because he was in need of an opportunity for making money easily. That there have always been statesmen and subordinate officials above all such self-seeking, men of punctilious honour and of absolutely clean hands, is known to all; but such men—as Espartero, for instance—too often threw up the sponge, and would have naught to do with governing nor with office of any description. Espartero, who is generally spoken of as the "Aristides of Spain," when living in his self-sought retirement at Logrono, even refused to be proclaimed as King during the days when the crown was going a-begging, though he would probably have been acclaimed as the saviour of his country by a large majority. Long years of foreign kings and their generally contemptible favourites and ministers, long years of tyranny and corruption in high places, leavened the whole mass of Spanish bureaucracy; but the heart of the nation remained sound, and those who would understand Spain must draw a distinct line between her professional place-hunters and her people.

Caciqueism is a mere consequence or outcome from the state of affairs already described. While the deputies to the Cortes are supposed to be freely elected as representatives by the people, in reality they are simply nominees of the heads of the two political powers which have been see-sawing as ministers for the last sixteen years. Two men since the assassination of Canovas have alternately occupied the post of First Minister of the Crown: Don Praxadis Mateo Sagasta, one of those mobile politicians who always fall on their feet whatever happens, and Francisco Silvela, who may be described as a Liberal-Conservative in contrast to Canovas, who was a Tory of the old school, and aspired to be a despot. Toryism, though the word is unknown there, dies hard in Spain; but there are not wanting signs that the Conservatives of the new school have the progress and emancipation of the country quite as much at heart as any Liberal. It was the Conservative Nacional that in a leading article of March 29th in 1901, under the head of "Vicious Customs," called attention to the crowds of place-hunters who invade the public offices after a change of ministry, and to the barefaced impudence of some of their claims for preferment. "The remedy is in the hands of the advisers of the Crown," it continued. "Let them shut the doors of their offices against influence and intrigue, keep Empleados of acknowledged competence permanently in their posts, and not appoint new ones without the conviction that they have capacity and aptitude for the work they will have to do. By this means, if the problem be not entirely solved, it will at least be in train for a solution satisfactory at once for a good administration and for the highest interests of the State."

The way in which the wire-pulling is done from Madrid, in case of an election, is through the cacique, or chief person in each constituency; hence the name of the process. This person may be the Civil Governor, the Alcalde, or merely a rich landowner or large employer of labour in touch with the Government: the pressure brought to bear may be of two sorts, taking the form of bribery or threat. The voters who hang on to the skirts of the cacique may hope for Government employment, or they may fear a sudden call to pay up arrears of rent or of taxes; the hint is given from headquarters, or a Government candidate is sent down. It matters little how the thing is done so long as the desired end is accomplished. Speaking of the general election which took place last June, and in which it was well known beforehand that the Liberals were to be returned in a large majority, one of the Madrid newspapers wrote: "The people will vote, but assuredly the deputies sent up to the Cortes will not be their representatives, nor their choice."

We, who have for so many years enjoyed a settled government, forget how different all this is in a country like Spain, which has oftener had to be reproached for enduring bad government than for a readiness to effect violent changes, or to try new experiments; but the progress actually made since the Revolution of 1868 has really been extraordinary, and it has gone steadily forward. Spain has always been celebrated for the making of convenios—a word which is scarcely correctly translated by "arrangement." During the Carlist wars, the Government, and even generals in command, made convenios with the insurgents to allow convoys to pass without interference, money value sometimes being a factor in the case; but one of the strangest of these out-of-sight agreements, and one which English people never understand, is that which has existed almost ever since the Restoration between the political parties in the Congress, or, at least, between their leaders. It is an arrangement, loyally carried out, by which each party is allowed in turn to come into power. The Cortes is elected to suit the party whose turn it is to be in office, and there is little reality in the apparent differences. Silvela and Sagasta go backwards and forwards with the regularity of a pendulum, and the country goes on its way improving its position daily and hourly, with small thanks to its Government.

Perhaps it is as well! It gives assurance, at least, that no particularly wild schemes or subversive changes shall be made. When one administration has almost wrecked the ship, as in the Caserta marriage, the other comes in peacefully, and sets the public mind at rest; both parties wish for peace and quietness, and no more revolutions, and the political seesaw keeps the helm fairly straight in ordinary weather. To what extent the insane and disastrous policy which led to the war with America by its shilly-shally treatment of Cuba, now promising autonomy, now putting down the grinding heel of tyranny, and to what extent the suicidal action of the oscillating parties—for both share the responsibility—in their instructions to their generals and admirals, and the astounding unpreparedness for war of any kind, still less with a country like America, may be traced to this system of "arrangements," which allows one party to hand its responsibilities over to the other, one can only guess. It is to be hoped that when the two figureheads at present before the country go over to the majority, there may come to the front some earnest and truly patriotic ministers, who have been quietly training in the school of practical politics, and can take the helm with some hope of doing away with the crying evils of empleomania and caciquismo. Until then there will be no political greatness for Spain.

The advance which Spain has made, "in spite of her Governments, and not by their assistance," has been remarkable in past years. Since the beginning of the last century she has gone through a series of political upheavals and disasters which might well have destroyed any country; and, in fact, her division into so many differing nationalities has, perhaps, been her greatest safeguard. Even after the Revolution of 1868 the series of events through which she passed was enough to have paralysed her whole material prosperity; the actual loss in materials, and still more in the lives of her sons, during the fratricidal wars at home and in her colonies, is incalculable, and that she was not ruined, but, on the contrary, advanced steadily in industry and commerce during the whole time, shows her enormous inherent vitality. Since then she has undergone the lamentable war with America, has lost her chief colonies, and the Peninsula has been well-nigh swamped by the repatriados from Cuba, returning to their native country penniless and, in many cases, worn out. And yet the state of Spain was never so promising, her steady progress never more assured. Looking back to the Revolution, it will be enough to name some of the measures secured for the benefit of the people. They include complete civil and religious liberty, with reforms in the administration of the laws and the condition of prisoners, liberty of education, and the spread of normal schools into every corner of the Peninsula, the establishment of savings banks for the poor, somewhat on the lines of England's Post Office Savings Bank; railways have received an enormous impulse; quays and breakwaters have been erected, so that every portion of the kingdom is now in immediate touch with Madrid; while the universities are sending forth daily young men thoroughly trained as engineers, electricians, doctors, and scientists of every variety to take the places which some years ago were almost necessarily filled by foreigners for want of trained native talent.

Local government in the smaller towns of the Peninsula is generally said to be very good, and to work with great smoothness and efficiency hand-in-hand with centralised authority in Madrid. The fusion of the varying nationalities is gradually gaining ground, and the hard-and-fast line between the provinces is disappearing. There is more nationality now in matters of every-day life than there has ever been before. In old times it needed the touch of a foreign hand, the threat of foreign interference, to rouse the nation as one man. Commerce and industry and the national emulation between province and province are doing gradually what it once needed the avarice of a Napoleon to evoke.

The paper constitutions of Spain have been many, beginning with that of 1812, which the Liberals tried to force on Ferdinand VII., to that of 1845, which the Conservatives look upon as the ideal, or that of 1869, embodying all that the Revolution had gained from absolutism, including manhood suffrage. In the first Cortes summoned after the Restoration, thanks to the good sense of Castelar, the Republican party, from being conspirators, became a parliamentary party in opposition. Zorilla alone, looking upon it as a sham, retired to France in disgust. By the new constitution of 1876, the power of making laws remained, as before, vested in the Cortes and the Crown: the Senate consists of three classes, Grandes, Bishops, and high officers of State sitting by right, with one hundred members nominated by the Crown, and one hundred and eighty elected by provincial Councils, universities, and other corporations. Half of the elected members go out every five years. The deputies to the Congress are elected by indirect vote on a residential manhood suffrage, and they number four hundred and thirty-one. A certain number of equal electoral districts of fifty thousand inhabitants elect one member each; and twenty-six large districts, having several representatives, send eighty-eight members to the Cortes. Every province has its provincial elective Council, managing its local affairs, and each commune its separate District Council, with control over local taxation. Yet, though ostensibly free, these local bodies are practically in the power of the political wire-puller, or cacique.



CHAPTER X

COMMERCE AND AGRICULTURE

Commerce and industry had progressed by leaps and bounds even during the disastrous and troublous years between the expulsion of Isabel II. and the restoration of her son. The progress is now much more steady and more diffused over the whole country, but it is by no means less remarkable, especially taking into consideration the disaster of the war with America and the loss to Spain of her old colonies.

Among her politicians in past times there were never wanting those who considered that the loss of Cuba would be a distinct gain to the mother country, and perhaps it may be safely said that since the colony had not only been for so many years the forcing-house of bureaucratic corruption, but had also drained the resources of Spain both of money and lives to the extreme limit of her possibility, she is more likely now to regain her old position among European nations, when left at peace to develop her enormous resources and set her house in order without the distraction of war, either at home or abroad. When one remembers that this happy condition has never obtained in the country since the death of Ferdinand VII. until the close of the Spanish-American War, and that the country is only now recovering from the disorganisation caused by the return of her troops and refugees from Cuba and Manila, it is not surprising to find that the activity manifested in her trade, her manufactures, and her industries is such as to give the greatest hopes for her future to her own people and to those who watch her from afar with friendly eyes.

Whichever we may regard as cause or effect, the progress of the country has been very largely identified with the extension of her railway system. It must have been a great step towards liberal education when the country which, priding herself on her geographical position and her rich internal resources, had hitherto wrapped herself in her national capa, and considered that she was amply sufficient to herself, condescended to throw open her mountain barriers to immigrants. It was not until 1848 that the first Spanish railway was opened, and it was but seventeen miles in length; but in the next ten years five hundred miles had been constructed, and between 1858 and 1868 no fewer than two thousand eight hundred and five miles, the Pyrenees had been pierced, and direct communication with the rest of Europe accomplished.

During the troublous years following the Revolution and the melancholy struggles of the second Carlist war, very little progress was made. Foreign capital, which had hitherto been invested in Spanish railways, was naturally frightened away, and the Northern Railway itself, the great artery to France, was constantly being torn up and damaged, and the lives of the passengers endangered, by the armed mobs which infested the country, and were supposed by some people to represent the cause of legitimacy, and which had, in fact, the sanction of the Church and of the Pope. It was not, in the majority of cases, that the people sympathised with Don Carlos, but it was easier and more amusing for the lazy and the ne'er-do-weels to receive pay and rations for carrying a gun, and taking pot-shots at any object that presented itself, human or other, than to work in the fields, the mines, or on the railways. Hence public enterprise was paralysed; again and again the workmen, with no desire of their own, were driven off by superior bands of these wandering shooters, who scarcely deserved even the name of guerillas, and public works were left deserted and decaying, while the commerce and industry of the province were wrecked, and apparently destroyed irrevocably.

In the earlier stages of railway construction and management, French capital and French labour were employed. England held aloof, partly on account of the closing of the London Stock Exchange to Spanish enterprises, in consequence of the vexed question of the celebrated coupons, but also because the aid afforded by the State did not fall in with the ideas of English capitalists. They desired a guaranteed rate of interest, while the Spanish Government would have nothing but a subvention paid down in one lump sum, arguing that it would be impossible to tell when a line was making more than the guaranteed interest, "as the companies would so arrange their accounts as to show invariably an interest smaller than that guaranteed!" With this view of the honesty of their own officials, no one else could be expected to have a better opinion of them; and England allowed France and Belgium thenceforward to find all the capital and all the materials for Spanish railways.

The total amount of subventions actually paid by Government up to December 31, 1882, was L24,529,148. "If," says the author of Commercial and Industrial Spain, "the money that we so candidly lent to the swarm of defaulting South American Republics had been properly invested in Spanish railways, a great deal of trouble might probably have been spared to the unfortunate investors."

All that, however, is altered now: the State schools and universities are turning out daily well-equipped native engineers, both for railway and mining works, and Spaniards are finding their own capital for public works. The phrase "Spain for the Spaniards" is acquiring a new significance—perhaps the most hopeful of all the signs of progress the country is making. In 1899, there were working 12,916 kilometros of railways, or 7.9 kilometros for each 10,000 of the population. A kilometro equals 1.609 English mile. There is no part of the country now isolated, either from the centre of government in Madrid, or from the coast, and communication with Portugal, and, through France, with the rest of Europe, is easy and constant. With this advance in means of transit, the trade of the country has received an immense impulse, and its raw and manufactured goods are now reaching all markets.

The rich mineral wealth of the country and its wonderful climate only need enlightened enterprise to make Spain one of the richest and most important commercial factors in the world's trade. The list of minerals alone, raised from mines in working, amounts to twenty-two, ranging from gold and silver, copper, tin, zinc, quick-silver, salt, coal, etc., to cobalt and antimony; and 8,313,218 tons of minerals of all these twenty-two classes were raised in 1882 against 1,201,054 in 1862. The value of mines in 1880 was represented by one hundred and eleven millions of pesetas (francs), but in 1898 by three hundred and nineteen millions (pesetas). The value of imports in 1882 was 816,666,901 pesetas, and of exports 765,376,087 pesetas. In 1899, imports were 1,045,391,983, and exports 864,367,885. But this is taking exactly the period covered by the war with America; a fairer estimate of exports is that of 1897, which stood at 1,074,883,372. No statement has been published since 1899, but intermediate statistics show the trade of the country to be advancing rapidly.

To return, however, to Spanish industries. In late years large smelting-works have been opened in Spain, with Spanish capital and management, while at Bilbao are large iron-works for the manufacture of steel rails. There are splendid deposits of iron in the country, and as the duty on foreign rails entering Spain is L3 4s. per ton, it is probable that the near future will see the country free from the necessity of importing manufactured iron, or, in fact, metal of any kind. A Catalan company has established important works for reducing the sulphur of the rich mines near Lorca, and confidently expects to produce some thirty thousand tons of sulphur per annum. The rich silver mines of the Sierra Almagrera are almost wholly in native hands, and have already yielded large fortunes to the owners. With the present improved transport and shipping facilities in every part of the country, it is probable that the valuable mines scattered all over the Peninsula will be thoroughly worked, to the advance of commercial and industrial interests over the entire country.

While the seaboard provinces are rich in fisheries, as well as in mines, in the south the country is able to grow rice, sugar-cane, maize, raisins, as well as wheat, olives, oranges, grapes, dates, bananas, pine-apples, and almost all kinds of tropical fruits. The cultivation of all varieties of fruit and vegetables, and their careful gathering and packing have become the object of many large companies and private individuals. Dates, bananas, grapes, plums, tomatoes, melons, as well as asparagus and other early vegetables, are now being shipped to foreign markets as regular articles of trade, in a condition which insures a rapid and increasing sale. The exportation of fruit has doubled within the last few years. The production of cane sugar in 1899 was thirty-one thousand tons, or exactly three times the amount of that produced in 1889. The exportation of wine, which in 1894 was two millions of milelitros, was in 1898 nearly five millions, and it is daily increasing (one gallon English measure equals about four and one half litros).

Spain has always had excellent wines unknown to other countries, besides that which is manufactured into what we know as "sherry"; but many of them were so carelessly made as to be unfit for transit abroad. The attention of wine-growers has, however, been steadily turned to this subject during the last twenty years; greater care has been taken in the production; the best methods have been ascertained and followed, and it is possible now to obtain undoctored Spanish wines which perfectly bear the carriage in cask without injury; and, to meet a direct sale to the customer, small barrels containing about twelve gallons are shipped from Tarragona and other ports to England.

One of the most hopeful signs of the economic awakening of the country is the establishment of the Boletin de la Camara de Comercio de Espana en la Gran Bretana, published each month in London.

In this little commercial circular a review is given of the commerce and industry of all nations during the month; all fluctuations are noted, extracts from foreign statistics or money articles given, suggestions made for the opening up of Spanish commerce, and the introduction of her manufactures into this and other countries. Speaking on the question of the introduction of pure Spanish wines into England, a recent writer in the Boletin remarks that English workmen are thirsty animals, that they like a big drink, but they are not really desirous of becoming intoxicated by it. In fact, they would most of them prefer to be able to drink more without bad effects. The writer goes on to say that if the English workman could obtain pure wine that would cost no more than his customary beer, and would not make him intoxicated, and if Spanish light wines—which he says could be sold in England for less than good beer—were offered in tempting-looking taverns and under pleasant conditions, he believes that a really enormous trade would be the result, to the benefit of both nations. The suggestion is, at least, an interesting one, and though the scheme would certainly not benefit the habitual drunkard, who becomes enamoured of his own debauchery, it might be very welcome to many of the working people, who, as "our neighbour" quaintly remarks, like a big drink, but do not necessarily wish to become intoxicated.

In this connection, it may be interesting to know that the small twelve-gallon casks of red wine, resembling Burgundy rather than claret, but less heavy than the Australian wines, and forming a delicious drink with water, are delivered at one's own door carriage free for a price which works out, including duty, at 8-1/2d. the ordinary bottle, or 1s. 2d. the flagon, such as the Australian wine is sold in. This is, in fact, cheaper than good stout or ale.

Spain has always been celebrated for two special manufactures—her silk and woollen goods; but for very many years these have been almost unknown beyond her own boundaries. In the time of the Moors her silken goods had a world-wide fame; and the silk-worm has been cultivated there probably from the earliest days, when it was surreptitiously introduced into Europe. Groves of mulberry trees were grown especially for sericulture in the irrigated provinces of the South, the care of the insect being undertaken by the women, while the men were employed on tasks more suitable to their strength. Native-grown spun and woven silk forms such an important part in the national costumes of the people that it has attained to great perfection without attracting much foreign notice. The silk petticoats of the women, the velvet jackets and trunk hose of the men, the beautiful silk and woollen mantas, with their deep fringes of silken or woollen balls; the madronos, or silk tufts and balls, used as decorations for the Andalusian or the gypsy hats, not to mention the beautifully soft and pure silks of Barcelona, or the silk laces made in such perfection in many parts of the country,—all these are objects of merchandise only needing to be known, to occasion a large demand, especially in these days when the French invention of weighted dyes floods the English market with something that has the outward appearance of silk, but which does not even wait for wear to disclose its real nature, but rots into holes on the drapers' shelves, and would-be smart young women of slender purses walk about in what has been well called "tin attire," in the manufacture of which the silk-worm has had only the slenderest interest.

The blankets and rugs of Palencia have been known to some few English people for many years, owing to their extreme lightness, great warmth, and literally unending wear; but it is only within the last very few years that they can be said to have had any market at all in England, and now they are called "Pyrenean" rather than Spanish goods. One of the suggestions of the little commercial circular already referred to is that Spaniards should open depots or special agencies all over England for the sale of their woollen goods, after the manner of the Jaeger Company.

The flocks of merino sheep to be seen on the wooded slopes of the Pyrenees, and all over Estremadura, following their shepherd after the manner with which Old Testament history makes us familiar, are said to be direct descendants of the old Arabian flocks, and certainly the appearance of one of these impassive-looking shepherds leading his flock to "green pastures, and beside the still waters," takes one back in the world's history in a way that few other things do. The flock know the voice of their shepherd, and follow him unquestioningly wheresoever he goes; there is no driving, no hurrying; and the same may be said of the pigs, which form such an important item in the social economy of a Spanish peasant's home.

Staying once at Castellon de la Plana, in Valencia, my delight was to watch the pig-herd and his troop. Early in the morning, at a fixed hour, he issued from his house in one of the small alleys, staff in hand, and with a curious kind of horn or whistle. This he blew as he walked along, from time to time, without turning his head, in that strange trance of passivity which distinguishes the Valencian peasant. Out from dark corners, narrow passages, mud hovels on all sides, came tearing along little pigs, big pigs, dark, light, fat, thin pigs,—pigs of every description,—and joined the procession headed by this sombre-looking herdsman, with his long stick and his blue-and-white striped manta thrown over his shoulder. By the time he had reached the end of the village he had a large herd following him. Then the whole party slowly disappeared in the distance, under the groves of cork-trees or up the mountain paths. The evening performance was more amusing still. Just about sundown the stately herdsman again appeared with his motley following. He took no manner of notice of them. He stalked majestically towards his own particular hovel, and at each corner of a lane or group of cottages the pigs said "Good night" to each other by a kick-up of their heels and a whisk of their curly little tails, and scampered off home by themselves, until, at the end of the village, only one solitary pig was following his leader—probably they shared one home between them. It seemed a peaceful, if not an absolutely happy, life!

One would expect a country with such a climate, or rather with so many climates, as Spain, to make a great feature of agriculture. It can at once produce wheat of the very finest quality, wine, oil, rice, sugar, and every kind of fruit and vegetable that is known; and it ought to be able to support a large agricultural population in comfort, and export largely. Taking into account, also, the rich mineral wealth, which should make her independent of imports of this nature, it is sad to see that in past years, even so late as 1882, wheat and flour, coal and coke, iron and tools figure amongst her imports—the first two in very large proportions. Although the vast plains of Estremadura and Castile produce the finest wheat known to commerce, the quantity, owing to the want of water, is so small in relation to the acreage under cultivation, that it does not suffice for home consumption, except in very favourable years; while the utilisation of the magnificent rivers, which now roll their waters uselessly to the sea, would make the land what it once was when the thrifty Moor held it—a thickly populated and flourishing grain-producing district. In place of the wandering flocks of sheep and pigs gaining a precarious existence on the herbage left alive by the blistering sun on an arid soil, there should be smiling homesteads and blooming gardens everywhere, trees and grateful shade where now the ground, between the rainy seasons, becomes all of one dusty, half-burnt colour, reminding one more of the "back of a mangy camel," as it has been described, than of a country that has once been fruitful and productive.

The late General Concha, Marques del Duero, was the originator of sugar-cane cultivation. He spent a large portion of his private fortune in establishing what bids fair to be one of the most productive industries of his country. But, like most pioneers of progress, he reaped no benefit himself. His fine estates near Malaga, with their productive cane-farms, passed into other hands before he had reaped the reward of his patriotic endeavours. For a long time the cheap, bounty-fed beet sugars of Germany, which never approach beyond being an imitation of real sugar—as every housewife can testify who has tried to make jam with them—were able to undersell the produce of the cane; but the latest statistics show that this industry is now making steady progress, the production of 1899 being thirty-one thousand tons, or exactly three times that of 1899. A propos of the difference between cane and beet sugars for all domestic purposes, and the superior cheapness of the more costly article, it is satisfactory to note that in England the working classes, through their own co-operative societies, insist on being supplied with the former, knowing by experimental proof its immense superiority; and one may hope that their wisdom may spread into households where the servants pull the wires, and care nothing about economy.

Looking at the ordinary map of Spain, it appears to be ridiculous to say that the greater part of the country is in want of water. Although it is intersected by three large ranges of mountains beyond the Pyrenees, and innumerable others of smaller dimensions, thus making a great proportion of the country impossible for agriculture, it is rich in magnificent rivers and in smaller ones, all of which are allowed to run to waste in many parts of the country, while even a small portion of their waters, artificially dammed and utilised for irrigation, if only of the lands lying on each side of them, would mean wealth and prosperity and an abounding population where now the "everlasting sun" pours its rays over barren wastes. Moreover, by the growth of the wood, which once covered the plains and has been cut down, little by little, until the whole surface of the land was changed, in process of time the climate would become less dry, and vegetation more rapid and easy.

Ever since the expulsion of the Moors from Castile and Estremadura, the land has been allowed gradually to go almost out of cultivation for want of water, the wholesale devastation of forests, in combination with the lapse of all irrigation, acting as a constantly accelerating cause for the arid and unproductive condition of the once genial soil. Irrigation has been the crying want of Spain for generations past; but even now the Government scarcely seems to have awakened to its necessity. Perhaps, however, the Spaniard who goes on his way, never troubling to listen to the opinion or advice of his neighbour, has not, after all, been so wanting in common sense as some of the more energetic of his critics have thought. In spite of all the changes and disasters of successive Governments, a steady and rapid advance has been made in providing means of transport and shipping, by the construction of railways to every part of the country, the making and keeping in condition of admirable highways, and the building of breakwaters and quays in many of the seaports, so that now the output of the mines and produce of all kinds can find market within the country, or be shipped abroad freely.



If the money no longer being expended in railways and docks were now devoted to irrigation wherever it is needed, a rapid change would become apparent over the whole face of the country, and the population would increase in proportion as the land would bear it. Irrigation works have been more than once undertaken by the aid of foreign money, and under the charge of foreign engineers; but the people themselves—the landowners and peasant proprietors—were not ripe for it, and, alas! some of the canals which would have turned whole valleys into gardens have been allowed to go to ruin, or to become actually obliterated, while the scanty crops are raised once in two or three years from the same soil, which will yield three crops in one year by the help of water. Difficulties arose about the sale of the water—a prolific cause of dispute even in the old irrigated districts—and the people said: "What do we want with water, except what comes from heaven? If the Virgin thinks we want water, she sends it." Fitting result of the teaching of the Church for so many years, with the example ever held up for admiration of the patron saint, Isidro, who knelt all day at his prayers, and left the tilling of his fields to the angels! It would seem that these ministers of grace are not good husbandmen, since the land became the arid waste it now is, while successive Isidros have been engaged in religious duties, which they were taught were all that was necessary.

As an example of what irrigation means in the sunlit fields of Spain, an acre of irrigable land in Valencia or Murcia sells for prices varying from L150 to L400, according to its quality or its situation, while land not irrigable only fetches sums varying from L7 to L20. In Castile, land would not in any case fetch so high a price as that which has been under irrigated cultivation for centuries past; but in any district the value of dry land is never more than a twelfth of what it is when irrigable. In truth, however, there is more than irrigation needed to bring the lands of Castile and Estremadura into profitable cultivation, and it cannot be done without the expenditure of large sums of money at the outset in manures, and good implements in place of the obsolete old implements with which the ground is now scratched rather than ploughed. Given good capital and intelligent farming, as in the irrigated districts, and two, and even three, crops a year can be raised in unceasing succession; lucern gives from ten to twelve cuttings in one year, fifteen days being sufficient for the growth of a new crop.

I have pointed out what one day's sun can do in raising grass seed in Madrid, which stands on the highest point of the elevated table-land occupying the centre of Spain. Seeing that the principal item of the revenue is derived from the land tax, and that it is calculated on the value of the land, it would appear to be the first interest of an enlightened government to foster irrigation in every possible way, and encourage agriculture and the planting of trees.

Although the people of Spain have hated their more immediate neighbours with an exceeding bitter hatred,—as, indeed, they had good cause to do in the past,—her public men have had a strange fancy for importing or imitating French customs. One that militates more than anything else against agricultural prosperity is the law of inheritance, copied from the French. By this the State divides an estate amongst the heirs without any reference to the wishes of the proprietor at his death. Not only are all large estates broken up and practically dissipated, so that it is to no one's interest to improve his property or spend money on it, but the small farms of the peasant proprietor are broken into smaller fragments in the same way; and it is no uncommon thing to see a field of a few acres divided into six or eight furrows, none of them enough to support one man. While he has to go off seeking work where he can get it, his strip of land clings to him like a curse, for he must lose his work if he would try to cultivate it, and at his death it will again be subdivided, until at last there is nothing left to share. Meanwhile, the land, which is not enough to be of any value to anyone, has been allowed to go almost out of cultivation; or if it bear anything at all, it is weeds.

Until some remedy be found for this enervating system, it would seem as if Spanish agriculture is doomed to remain in its present unsatisfactory condition over a great part of the kingdom. The improvement of agriculture is practically a question of private enterprise, and under the existing law of inheritance neither enterprise nor interest can be expected of the small proprietor; nor indeed of the large landowner, who knows that, whatever he may do to improve his estate, it is doomed to be cut to pieces and divided amongst his next of kin until it is eventually extinguished. Whether, in some future time, an enlightened scheme of co-operation could work the arid lands into cultivation again, if the Government would give the necessary aid in the form of irrigation, remains among the unanswered riddles of the future. Prophecy in Spain is never possible; it is always the unexpected which happens in that country of sharp contradictions. All one can do is to note past progress and the drift of the present current, which, whatever government is at the nominal head of affairs, seems to be towards widespread—in fact, quite general—advance both in knowledge and industrial activity.

The greatest hope for the future lies in the fact that it is no longer foreign money or foreign labour that is working for the good of the country; the impulse is from within, and every penny of capital that is sunk in public works, manufactures, or industrial enterprise, is so much invested in a settled state of affairs. When the individual has everything to lose by revolutionary changes, when the commerce of the country is becoming too important to be allowed to be upset easily, and it is everybody's interest to support and increase it, the main body of the people are ranged on the side of peace and progress. They have had enough of civil war, enough of tyranny; they have achieved freedom, and want nothing so much as to taste of it in quietness.

To revert for a moment to the special manufactures of the country, it appears to be the wise policy of the powers that be in Spain to-day to encourage, by every possible means, native industries and the development of the rich resources of the country. If it be only in the superior education required of the workmen, and the drawing out of their natural talents, the movement is an immense gain to the people, so long purposely kept in a condition of slothful ignorance.

Besides the woollen manufactures of Palencia, Lorca, Jerez, Barcelona, Valencia, and other places, are many cloth factories in Cataluna, as well as others for the production of silk fabrics, lace, and very high-class embroideries, for which last Spain has long been famous, but which have hitherto been little known beyond her own frontiers. In artistic crafts may be named the pottery works of Pickman, Mesaque, Gomez, and others in Seville, where magnificent reproductions of Moorish and Hespano-Moresque tiles and pottery are being turned out; there are also factories for this class of goods in Valencia, Barcelona, Segovia, Talevera, and many other places. Ornamental iron and damascene work holds the high reputation which Spain has never lost, but the output is very largely increased. Gold and silver inlaid on iron, iron inlaid on copper and silver, are some of the forms of this beautiful work. That executed in Madrid differs from that of Toledo, Eibar, and other centres of the craft. The iron gate-work executed in Madrid and Barcelona is very hard to beat, and the casting of bronzes is carried out with every modern improvement. The wood-carvers of Spain have always been famous, and the craft appears to be in no danger of falling behind its old reputation, much beautiful decorative work of this description being produced for modern needs. The Circulo de Artes holds an exhibition in Madrid every other year, and in the intervening years the Government has one, in the large permanent buildings erected for the purpose at the end of the Fuente Castellana. The manufacture of artistic furniture and other connected industries are encouraged also by a bi-yearly exhibition in Madrid, where prizes and commendations are given. The chief centres of artistic furniture-making are Madrid, Barcelona, Granada, and Zaragoza. Exhibitions of arts and crafts and of all kinds of industries and manufactures are also held, at intervals, in the principal towns all over the country. An interesting exhibition of Spanish and South American productions was held in 1901 in Bilbao with great success.

Nor ought we to forget the industry for which Seville is famed. The manufacture of tobacco is almost wholly in the hands of women, and is a very important industry, thousands being employed in the large factories making up cigars, cigarettes, and preparing and packing the finer kinds of tobacco. The cigar-girl of Seville is a well-known type, almost as much dreaded by the authorities as admired by her own class. The women are mostly young, and often attractive, extremely pronounced both in dress and manners, and are quite a power to be reckoned with when they choose to assert themselves. On more than one occasion they have taken up some cause en masse, and have gathered in thousands, determined to have their way.

When this happens, the powers that be are reduced to great straits. Neither the Guardia Civile nor the military can be relied on to use force, and unless the army of irate women can be persuaded to retire from the contest it is probable that, relying with perfect confidence on the privileges of their sex, they will gain what they consider their rights—at all events their will.

No country in the world is more suited for manufactures and exports than Spain. She has an unexampled seaboard, and many magnificent natural harbours, and now an easy approach through Portugal to the sea, even if her own ports should be insufficient. Common commercial interests are likely to bring that Iberian kingdom or commonwealth to pass which has been the dream of some of her politicians, and is still cherished in parts of both countries. The northern ports in the Atlantic are, perhaps, the most important; that of Bilbao, a most unpromising one by nature, has grown out of all recognition since the close of the Carlist war. The railway to the iron mines was already in course of construction when the war broke out; everything was stopped, the workmen carried off willy-nilly to join the marauding bands of the Pretender, the town—which boasts that it has never been taken, although twice almost demolished during the two insane civil wars—was wrecked and well-nigh ruined, its industries destroyed, its commerce at an end. With peace and quietness came one of the most extraordinary revivals of modern times: the population increased at a marvellous rate, the new town sprang into existence on the left bank of the Nerrion, the river was deepened, the bar, which used to block almost all entrance, practically removed, extensive dock-works carried out; so that in ten years the shipment of ore from the port sprang up from four hundred and twenty-five thousand tons to 3,737,176, and is increasing daily. Bilbao, with its five railway stations, its electric tramways, and its population of sixty-six thousand, has become the first and most important shipping outlet of Spain. Nor have the southern ports of Huelva and Seville been much behind it in their rapid progress; while on the Mediterranean coast are Malaga, Almeria, Aguilas, Cartagena, Valencia, and Tarragona—all vying with the older, and once singular, centre of commercial and industrial activity, Barcelona. The northwest seaboard has been hitherto somewhat behind the movement, owing to a less complete railway communication with the rest of the country; now that this is no more a reproach, the fine natural harbours of Rivadeo, Vivero, Carril, Pontevedra, Vigo, and Coruna, are gradually following suit, some with more vigour than others. The little land-locked harbour of Pasages has for some years been rapidly rising to the rank of a first-class shipping port.

It is satisfactory to note, from the latest statistics, that in 1899 Spain possessed a total of one thousand and thirty-five merchant ships, that in the same year she bought from England alone sixty-seven, and that 17,419 ships, carrying 11,857,674 tons of exports, left Spanish ports for foreign markets. Although no official information has been published since that year, the increase since the close of the war has been in very much greater ratio. From the same records we find that during the year 1899 no fewer than sixty-nine large companies were formed, of which twenty-three were for shipping, eight were new sugar factories, seven banks, seven mining, six electric, and ten others related either to manufacture or commerce, the total capital of these new enterprises representing one hundred and twenty-eight millions of pesetas.

In contrast to Portugal, the caminos reales, or high-roads, of Spain have long been very good. It is true that where these State roads do not exist, the unadulterated arroyo serves as a country road, or a mere track across the fields made by carts and foot-passengers, and when an obstruction occurs in the form of too deep a hole to be got through, the track takes a turn outside it, and returns to the direct line as soon as circumstances permit. An arroyo is given in the dictionary as "a rivulet"; it is, in fact, generally a rushing torrent during the rains, eating its way through the land, and laying down a smooth, deep layer of sand, or even soil, between high banks. Immediately after the rainy season this affords a firm, good road for a time, but eventually it becomes ploughed into impassable ruts by the wheels of the carts, unless trampled hard by the feet of passing flocks.

Government undertakes the cost and the super-intendence of the caminos reales, and does it well. The corps of engineers is modelled on French lines, and is a department of the Ministry of Public Works. The course of study is extremely severe, and the examinations are strict and searching. When a candidate passes, he is appointed assistant-engineer by the Ministry, and he rises in his profession solely by seniority. Every province has its engineer-in-chief, with his staff of assistants; the superintendents of harbours, railways, and other public works are specially appointed from qualified engineers. In addition to the care of the construction and repair of all highways and Government works in his district, the engineer-in-chief has the overlooking of all works which, although they may be the result of private enterprise and private capital, are authorised or carried out under Government concession. These concessions are only granted after the project has been submitted to, and approved by, the Ministry of Public Works, and it passes under the supervision of the engineer of the provinces. In old days, if not now, there was a good deal of "the itching palm" about the officials, not excluding the Minister himself, through whose hands the granting of concessions passed, even the wives coming in for handsome presents and "considerations," without which events had a knack of not moving; and when the army of Empleados became Cesantes, this work, of course, began all over again. The railway engineers form a separate body, the country being mapped out into arbitrary divisions, each under the charge of one engineer-in-chief, with a large body of assistants.

The telegraph system of Spain has now for many years been in a good condition. The construction of the lines dates from about 1862, when only five miles were in operation. There is now probably not a village in the whole country that does not possess its telegraph office, and in all the important towns this is kept open all night. A peseta for twenty words, including the address, is the uniform charge, every additional word being ten centimos. The telegraphs were established by the Government, and are under its control. All railway lines of public service, and those which receive a subvention, must provide two wires for Government use. Telephones are now in use in all large centres, and electric lighting and traction are far more widely used than in England.



CHAPTER XI

THE ARMY AND NAVY

It is not necessary to say to anyone who has the smallest acquaintance with history that Spaniards are naturally brave and patriotic. The early history of the Peninsula is one of valour in battle, whether by land or sea. The standard of Castile has been borne by her sons triumphantly over the surface of the globe. Few of us now remember that Johnson wrote of the Spain of his day:

Has Heaven reserved, in pity to the poor, No pathless waste, no undiscovered shore, No secret island on the trackless main, No peaceful desert, yet unclaimed by Spain?

In the old days when Drake undertook to "singe the King of Spain's beard," and carried out his threat, our sailors and those of Philip II., some time "King of England," as the Spaniards still insist on calling him, met often in mortal combat, and learned to recognise and honour in each other the same dogged fighting-power, the same discipline and quiet courage. The picture of the Spaniards standing bareheaded in token of reverence and admiration of a worthy foe, as some small English ships went down with all their crew rather than surrender, in those old days of strife, touches a chord which still vibrates in memory of battles fought and won together by Englishmen and Spaniards under the Iron Duke. True, some battered and torn English flags hang as trophies in the armoury of Madrid, but one likes to remember that in the only battle where our colours were lost, the Spanish troops were commanded by an Englishman, James Stuart, Duke of Berwick, the direct ancestor of the present Duque de Berwick y Alva, and the English by one of French birth. In every case where foreign foes have invaded Spain, sooner or later they have been driven out. Santiago! y Cierra Espana! was the war-cry which roused every child of Spain to close his beloved country to alien domination.

Unfortunately, the yoke of the foreigner came in more invidious guise. From the death of Ferdinand and Isabella to the year 1800, the sons of Spain were immolated to serve causes which were of no account to her, to protect the interests of sovereigns who had nothing in common with her provinces, to add to the power of the Austrian Hapsburgs and the French Bourbons. We have seen how the people whom Napoleon had believed to be sunk in fanaticism, dead to all national aspiration, the mere slaves of a despicable King, and the sport of his debauched Queen and her lover, sprang to arms and drove the invader from their land. So would it be to-day if the country were even threatened by foreign invasion. "The dogs of Spain," as Granville called them, know well how to protect their soil.

Within comparatively recent years the campaign in Morocco, and the expeditionary force sent to Cochin-China, showed that the Spanish army was not to be despised. It has been the misfortune of Spain that her soldiers have too often had the melancholy task of fighting against their own people, or those of their colonies, both of whom have been excited and aided in insurrection for years by foreign contributions of arms and money. In these unhappy fratricidal struggles the fighting has never been more than half-hearted, and during the numerous military pronunciamientos it has often been necessary to keep the troops from meeting, as they could never be trusted not to fraternise; and after the first abortive attempt by Prim to effect the revolution which later freed the country, the curious spectacle was afforded of Prim and his soldiers marching quietly out of one end of a village, while the troops of the Queen, sent in pursuit, were being purposely kept back from marching too quickly in at the other.

The army of Spain would seem to suffer from a plethora of officers, especially those of the highest rank. In the time of Alfonso XII., there were ten marshals, fifty-five generals, sixty-six mariscales de campo, and one hundred and ninety-seven brigadiers; adding those on the retired list liable for service, there were in all five hundred and twenty generals, four hundred and seventy-two colonels, eight hundred and ninety-four lieutenant-colonels, 2113 commandants, 5041 captains, 5880 lieutenants, and 4833 sous-lieutenants. With such an array of officers, it is scarcely to be wondered at that promotion in the ordinary way was looked on as impossible, and the juggle of military pronunciamientos was regarded as almost the only means of rising in the army. It was no uncommon thing to promise a rise of one grade throughout a whole corps to compass one of these miniature revolutions. However, all that is happily past. General Weyler,—whose name indicates alien blood at some period of his family history,—the present Minister of War, has taken the thorough reform of the army in hand, though it is too soon to say if he will be as successful as is generally expected from his known energy and common sense, since the work is only now in progress.

One of the most fertile sources of disturbance in the old days of Isabel II. was the presence of the primo sargentos. These petty officers, having risen from the ranks, and invested with an authority for which they were often quite unsuited, were always ready, for a consideration, to aid the cause of some aspiring politician, now on one side, now on another. They are now, fortunately, abolished.

The Spanish artillery is a splendid body, and is officered from the best families in the country. In the only military insurrection in which the common soldiers shot some of the officers obnoxious to them—that of the Montano Barracks, in 1866—the leader of the mutinists was a certain hidalgo. It was the promotion of this man that led indirectly to the abdication of Don Amadeo, who opposed the action. Indignant at the disgrace to the service, all of the artillery officers in Spain sent in their resignations. They were accepted, and the primo sargentos raised to the rank of officers to fill their places. The result was unlimited mutiny among the rank and file and danger to the State. Some of the young officers who had retained their uniforms, though no longer attached to the corps, finding the troops in utter disorder and revolt, quietly donned their uniforms, went down to the barracks, and gave their orders. The men instantly fell into the ranks, and the situation was saved. The primo sargentos were abolished, the officers reinstated. But Amadeo had had enough; he ceased to attempt to reign constitutionally in a country where the constitution meant only one more form of personal greed and excess. He was demasiado honesto for the crew he had been called to command, and he left the country to tumble about in its so-called "republican" anarchy until another military pronunciamiento set Alfonso XII. on the throne. And that has been, fortunately, the last performance of a kind once so common in Spain.

All military men admire the effective corps of light mountain artillery. The small guns are carried on the backs of the splendid mules for which the Spanish army is famous, and can be taken up any mountain path which these singular animals can climb. Mules are also used to drag the heavier guns, and must be invaluable in a mountainous country. The animals are quite as large as ordinary horses, are lithe, active, and literally unhurtable. I have myself seen a mule, harnessed to a cart which was discharging stones over the edge of a deep pit, when levelling the ground at the end of the Fuente Castellana in Madrid, over-balanced by the weight behind him, fall over, turn a somersault in mid-air, cart and all, and, alighting thirty feet below, shake himself, ponder for a few seconds on the unexpected event in his day's labour, and then proceed to draw the cart, by this time satisfactorily emptied, out of the pit by the sloping track at the farther side, and continue his task absolutely unhurt and undisturbed.

Until the final overthrow of the Carlists by Alfonso XII., the Basque Provinces, amongst their most cherished fueros, were exempted from the hated conscription; but the victorious King made short work of that and of all other special rights and privileges—which, in truth, had been abused—and now all the country is subject to conscription. Every man from nineteen to twenty years of age is liable to serve in the ranks, except those who are studying as officers. A payment of L60 frees them from service during peace; but if the country is at war there is no exemption. The conscripts are bound for twelve years—three with the colours, three in the first reserve, three in the second, and three in the third.

Navy? Alas! Spain has none. Two battle-ships alone remain—El Pelayo and Carlos V. (the former about nine thousand five hundred tons, the latter not more than seven thousand)—and some destroyers and torpedoes. How a nation that once ruled the sea, and whose sailors traversed and conquered the New World, has allowed her navy to become practically extinct at the moment when nations which have almost no seaboard are trying to bring theirs up within measurable distance of England's, it is impossible to say. Even before the outbreak of the war with America there were but a few battle-ships, and these were wanting in guns and in almost all that could make them effective—save and except the men, who behaved like heroes. It seems to be a consolation to Spaniards to remember that it was in the pages of an English journal that an Englishman, who had seen the whole of the disastrous war, wrote: "If Spain were served by her statesmen as she has been served by her navy, she would be one of the greatest nations of the world to-day."

The history of the part borne by the Spanish navy in the late war with America, as written by one of Admiral Cervera's captains,[1] with the publication of the actual telegrams which passed between the Government and the fleet, and the military commanders in the colonies, is one of the most heartrending examples of the sacrifice, not only of brave men, but of a country's honour to political intrigue or the desire to retain office. This, at least, is the opinion of the writer of this painful history, and his statements are fully borne out by the original telegrams, since published. It is impossible to imagine that any definite policy at all was followed by the advisers of the Queen Regent in this matter, unless it were the incredible one ascribed to it by Captain Concas Palan of deliberately allowing the fleet, such as it was, to be destroyed—in fact, in the case of Admiral Cervera's squadron, sending it out to certain and foreseen annihilation—so as to make the disaster an excuse for suing for peace, without raising such a storm at home as might have upset the Ministry. With both fleets sunk, and those of their men not slain, prisoners of war, there was no alternative policy but peace. Captain Concas Palan claims for his chief and the comrades who fell in this futile and disastrous affair "a right to the legitimate defence which our country expects from us, though it is against the interested silence which those who were the cause of our misfortunes would fain impose on us," and says that "some day, and that probably much sooner than seems probable at present," the judgment of Spain on this episode will be that of the English Review, which he quotes as the heading of his chapter. He goes on: "War was accepted by Spain when the island of Cuba was already lost to her, and when the dispatch of a single soldier more from the Peninsula was infinitely more likely to have caused an insurrection than that of which our Ministers were afraid—at the moment, also, when our troops were in want of the merest necessaries, the arrears of pay being the chief cause of their debilitated condition, and when a great part of the Spanish residents in Cuba, under the name of 'Reformers,' 'Autonomists,' etc., had made common cause with the insurgents, while they were enriching themselves to a fabulous extent by contracts for supplies and transports. In these circumstances it was folly to accept a struggle with an immensely rich country, possessing a population four times that of ours, and but a pistol shot from the seat of action." The Government of Spain was perfectly aware that the troops in Cuba were already quite insufficient even to cope with the insurgents, that the people at home were already murmuring bitterly at the cost of the war, and that it was impossible to send out a contingent of any practical value. Sickness of all kinds, enteric, anaemia, and all the evils of under-fed and badly found troops, were rapidly consuming the forces in Cuba, "and yet the Government took no thought of who was to man the guns whose gunners were drifting daily into the hospital and the cemetery.... The national debt was increasing in a fabulous manner, and recourse was had to the mediaeval remedy of debasing the currency, while even at that moment the troops had more than a year's pay in arrear, and absolute penury was augmenting their other sufferings."

[1] La Escuadra del Almirante Cervera, por Victor M. Concas Palan.

This was the moment which the responsible Ministers of the Crown thought propitious to throw down the gauntlet to the overwhelming power of America rather than to face what the writer terms the "cabbage-headed riff-raff of the Plaza de la Cevada" of Madrid. Again and again was the absolute inefficiency of the fleet pointed out to them. Even the few ships there were, all of them vastly inferior to those of the United States' navy, were without their proper armament; they might have been of some service in defence of the coast of Spain, but in aggressive warfare they were useless. Allowing somewhat for the natural indignation of one of those who was sacrificed, who saw his beloved commander and his comrades-in-arms sent like sheep to the slaughter, and all for an idea,—and that a perfectly stupid and useless one,—there is no gainsaying the facts which Captain Concas Palan relates, and the original telegrams verify every word of his story. Admiral Cervera was sent out with sealed orders; but he had done all that was in his power—even asking to be relieved of his command—to prevent the folly of sending away from the coasts of the mother country the only ships which could have protected her, while they were absolutely useless against the American navy in the Antilles. Left with no alternative but obedience, he managed to gain the safe harbour of Santiago de Cuba with his squadron intact. Secure from attack, he landed his men to assist in the defence of the town from the land side. And then came the incredible orders that he was to take out his four ships to be destroyed by the American navy waiting outside! Never in the world's history was a more magnificent piece of heroism displayed than in the obedience to discipline which caused Admiral Cervera to re-embark his marines and lead them forth to certain death, well knowing what they were to face, for he hid nothing from them. He called on them as sons of Spain, and they answered heroically, as Spaniards have ever done in history: "For honour!"

Spain has suffered deeply and sorely in her pride; but she has never worn her heart on her sleeve—she suffers in silence. A quotation from the Epoca of July 5th, two days after the destruction of Cervera's fleet, shows the spirit in which the country bore that terrible blow. It is headed "Hours of Agony." "Our grief to-day has nothing in it which was unexpected. The laws of logic are invincible; our four ships could not by any possibility have escaped the formidable American squadron. The one thing that Spain expected of her sons was that they should perish heroically. They have perished! They have faced their destiny; they have realised the sole end which Spain looked for, in this desperate conflict into which she has been drawn by God knows what blind fatality; they have fallen with honour."

That is true; but how about the leaders whose long misrule of the colonies had helped to bring on the disaster which their predecessors for many years had courted? How about the political corruption which, when large sums were being spent on the colonies, had allowed immense private fortunes to be made while Manila was left without defences, and the absolutely unassailable bay of Santiago de Cuba had on the fort which commanded its entrance only useless old guns of a past century, more likely to cause the death of those who attempted to serve them than to injure an enemy? How about the Government that deliberately entered on a war of which the end was perfectly foreseen, and, while seated safely in office at home, thought the "honour of Spain" sufficiently vindicated by offering up its navy, already made useless by neglect and niggardliness, as a sacrifice? Captain Concas Palan points out that even after it was fully recognised that the retention of Cuba was impossible, the worst catastrophes might have been avoided. "In place of treating for peace while the squadron was intact at Santiago, which, as well as Manila, could have been defended for some time, the Ministers waited to sue for peace until everything was lost, while it was perfectly well known beforehand that that result was inevitable." During the whole time, manana veremos was the rule of action—a to-morrow that never was to dawn for those whose lives it was intended to sacrifice. Heaven works no miracles for those who fling themselves against the impossible!