Spanish Life in Town and Country Part 5

Cycling does not appear to commend itself greatly to the Spanish idea of recreation. Bicycles are, of course, to be seen in the large and more modern towns, but they are never very numerous, and as far as ladies are concerned, may be said to have made no way.

I have referred to a curious spectacle several times presented in Madrid, chiefly in _fiestas_ for charitable purposes, where an elephant was introduced into the Bull-Ring to fight, in place of the usual _cuadrilla_ of men. This was an old elephant named Pizarro, a great favourite of many years' standing with the Madrilenos. He was an enormous animal, but one of his tusks had been broken off about a third from the tip, so that he had only one to use in warfare or as protection. He was tethered in the centre of the arena, by one of his hind legs, to a stump about twelve inches high. Then the bulls were let out one at a time. Meanwhile, Pizarro was amusing himself by eating oranges which were showered on him by his admirers on the benches. With the greatest coolness he continued his repast, picking up orange after orange with his trunk, all that he was careful to do being to keep his face to the bull, turning slowly as his enemy galloped round the ring trying to take him in flank. At last the bull prepared to charge; Pizarro packed away his trunk between his tusks, and quietly waited the onslaught. The bull rushed at him furiously; but the huge animal, quite good-naturedly and a little with the air of pitying contempt, simply turned aside the attack with his one complete horn, and as soon as the bull withdrew, a little nonplussed, went on picking up and eating his oranges as before. Bull after bull gave up the contest as impossible, and contentedly went out between the _cabestros_ sent in to fetch them. At last one more persistent or courageous than the others came bounding in. Pizarro realised at once that for the moment he must pause in eating his dessert; but he became aware at the same time that in turning round to face the successive bulls, he had gradually wound himself up close to the stump, and had no room to back so as to receive the attack. The most interesting incident in the whole affray was to watch the elephant find out, by swinging his tethered leg, first in one direction and then in another, how to free himself. This he did, first by swinging his leg round and round over the stump, then by walking slowly round and round, always facing the bull, and drawing his cord farther and farther until he was perfectly free: then he was careful only to turn as on a pivot, keeping the rope at a stretch. Finally the bull charged at him with great fury; stepping slightly aside, Pizarro caught him up sideways on his tusks, and held him up in the air, perfectly impotent and mad with rage. When he considered the puny creature had been sufficiently shown his inferiority, he gently put him down, and the astonished and humbled bull declined further contest. The fighting bulls of Spain are wonderfully small in comparison with English animals, it should be said.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DRAGGING OUT THE DEAD BULL]

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 amus.e.m.e.nts 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 ill.u.s.trated 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 ill.u.s.trated papers, both comic and serious. The charmingly artistic little _Blanco y Negro_, beautifully gotten up, is at the head of all the more dignified ill.u.s.trated 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 cla.s.s 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 pa.s.s 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 princ.i.p.al 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 Ca.n.a.lijas. _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 advertis.e.m.e.nts, 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 cla.s.sed 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-sh.e.l.l: 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-sh.e.l.ls 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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 cla.s.ses 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 const.i.tutional 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 const.i.tutional 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 _p.r.o.nunciamientos_, 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 const.i.tution--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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ESCURIAL]

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 p.r.o.nounce 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 const.i.tutional 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sured and the Queen and her _camarilla_ had crossed the frontier to seek asylum in France, declared for a const.i.tutional 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 a.s.sa.s.sinated; 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 const.i.tutional 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 _p.r.o.nunciamiento_ 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 circ.u.mstances, 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 const.i.tution, 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 const.i.tutional manner instead of by a military _p.r.o.nunciamiento_ 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-cla.s.s English journals. It is naturally the interest of these subordinate employees of a vicious system to hasten or r.e.t.a.r.d the day that shall see their respective chiefs change position, and if a few plausible untruths can do it, be a.s.sured 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 _p.r.o.nunciamiento_ 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 a.s.suredly 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 ma.s.s 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 a.s.sa.s.sination 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 emanc.i.p.ation 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 apt.i.tude 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 const.i.tuency; 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 a.s.suredly 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 pa.s.s 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 a.s.surance, 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 a.s.sistance," 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sured. 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 const.i.tutions 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 const.i.tution of 1876, the power of making laws remained, as before, vested in the Cortes and the Crown: the Senate consists of three cla.s.ses, 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_.