The following circumstance I know to be true. The Duke of Liria (Berwick) having got into difficulties, put himself under, or was put under secrésto (sequestration), and was allowed 10,000l. per annum from his revenues. It so happened that the duke had an attack of gout, and that he was obliged in consequence to absent himself a few weeks from court. One evening, while he was sitting at home, a letter was delivered to him, sealed with the royal seal; and, upon opening the letter, he found it to be an order of the king, that he should pay 2500l. of his income yearly to his grandmother in Paris. Thus, without process, without cause, without any previous intimation made to the Duke of Berwick, without any opportunity being given to him of objecting to this inroad upon his property, he was deprived, by a dash of the king’s pen, of 2500l. per annum. This was accomplished by the intrigue of the duke’s grandmother. The sequel to the story, by which it will be seen that the duke regained his money, does not in any respect alter the act of tyranny that deprived him of it; but only exemplifies the indecision of the king’s character. The duchess, who happened to be a spirited woman, and who knew the character of the king, immediately ordered her coach, drove to the palace, asked an audience, saw the king, and returned in less than an hour with the revocation of the order in her hand.
While at Seville, I learned some very gross instances of injustice practised by the government in its dealings with its subjects. My authority could not be more authentic, because my informant—an old and highly respectable merchant—was himself the person who had suffered. A debt of 1600l. was due to him by government, upon a contract for supplying cartridge boxes; this debt had been some years due, and he had applied for payment often, and in vain. At length, having some other business in Madrid, he resolved to attempt the recovery of the debt, by preferring his claim in the proper quarter. Day after day, he went to the minister; sometimes he was denied admittance,—sometimes he saw the minister, and was always treated by him with the utmost rudeness: this was his first transaction with government, and he had yet to learn its way of doing business. One day, when he was leaving the minister, and slowly passing towards the stair, a reverend gentleman touched his sleeve, and begged to know what was the cause of his frequent visits to the minister: the merchant told him his business. “And do you expect to receive payment of the debt?” demanded the priest. “I despair of it,” replied the merchant. “Then,” resumed the priest, “you would probably sacrifice a small part to obtain the rest;” and upon the merchant admitting that he would gladly do this,—“Come,” said the priest, “to-morrow early, and I’ll undertake that you shall have your money!” The merchant kept his appointment; the priest was waiting—the merchant never saw the minister; and in less than half an hour, the priest put into his hands an order for 1200l., upon the treasury at Seville; the remaining 400l. being the perquisite of the minister and his emissary:—yet even after this, it was necessary to sacrifice another 100l., before payment of the order could be obtained at Seville. All this is according to usual practice: no settlement of any government account can be obtained without making a large sacrifice; sometimes as much as a third, or even a half. The system of bribery is universal, from the minister to the lowest official: sometimes the individual is robbed, sometimes the treasury. If the transaction lie between the government and an individual, the minister and his go-between are the gainers, and the contractor is robbed. If the affair lie between individuals and employées—as officers of the customs—a false return of duties is made to government; the merchant and the employée pocket the difference; and the government is robbed: this is a regular part of the settlement of every custom-house transaction. At Malaga, I learnt a curious instance of this, adding another to the many proofs of a weak and disorganized government. All vessels chartered from Gibraltar for Malta, Corfu, or any foreign port in the Mediterranean, but carrying part cargo for Malaga, are obliged, while they remain at Malaga, to deposit all goods in transitu in the custom-house, as a preventive against smuggling. Such vessels are well known to be freighted with English goods, or with tobacco, or with other goods either prohibited, or upon which high duties are payable: in fact, the vessel is a smuggler,—and how is this matter arranged? The captain deposits a hundred bales of goods in the custom-house, being the whole of the goods entered for the foreign port; and when the vessel leaves the port, the same number of bales must be shipped,—and so they are; but during their deposit in the custom-house, they have suffered a wonderful diminution in bulk. Bales which measured a yard square, are reduced to the size of footballs; the bales, such as they are, are reshipped;—the vessel has disburdened herself of her contraband cargo, and in place of proceeding to Malta, returns to Gibraltar. I relate this, not of course as an example of government oppression or injustice, but as a proof of the lax and unhinged state of the government, and of the total want of integrity that pervades every department of the public service: and before recurring to other instances of government oppression or injustice, let me mention another incident, proving that the same system extends even to the army. A regiment of cavalry arrived at Granada sometime last spring; and the soldiers being in want of new spurs, the colonel sent for a tradesman, and told him what he wanted. The tradesman named a certain price: “No,” said the colonel, “you must let me have them at half that price;” the tradesman agreed, premising only that the spurs would not last a week. This was of no importance to the colonel; the spurs were delivered, the account was made out at the price first demanded, and being presented to the government office, the money was paid; one half of which went to the blacksmith, and the other into the pocket of the colonel.
The following case of extreme hardship was related to me by an English merchant at Seville, a man once extremely wealthy, but who has suffered irreparable losses from the unjust acts of the government. He entered into a contract with government to supply the whole accoutrements for 12,000 cavalry. An order so extensive required great outlay, and constant attention. The accoutrements were completed; and one half, according to the contract, delivered; and when the time nearly approached for the delivery of the remaining quantity, an intimation was received, that no more could be taken, because, to please the people of Madrid, it was necessary to employ the workmen of the capital. Not only was there no indemnification made for the breach of the contract, by which goods to the value of 36,000l. were thrown upon the merchant’s hands; but the price of the delivered goods is to this hour unpaid. Four years have now elapsed, and he has no expectation of ever receiving one farthing; the debt being too large to be adjusted by the sacrifice of a part.
While I was at Seville, considerable discontent was produced by a most unjust act of the government. All arrears of taxes due upon houses for the past thirty years, were claimed from the actual proprietor: the consequence of which was, that upon the mere shewing of the government officer, proprietors were forced to pay arrears for a period in which the house was in other hands, and even in many cases, before the actual proprietors were born!
But more flagrant, at least more violent, acts of injustice and oppression are sometimes committed. After the return of the king, between two and three hundred persons who had served in the national volunteers during the constitution, were seized in Barcellona, and shipped to Ceuta,—the Spanish Botany Bay,—where they now remain. Their crime was said to be, unadvised talk in the coffee houses; but this was never ascertained, because no form of trial was gone through; and three years have not elapsed, since a man was hanged at Barcellona, without any one knowing what crime he had committed.
The truest proofs of a good government, are just laws; and the best evidence of a well organized government, is to be found in their strict execution. Judging the Spanish government by these tests, it will appear the worst and weakest government that ever held together. Justice of no kind, has any existence; there is the most lamentable insecurity of person and property: redress is never certain, because both judgment, and execution of the laws, are left to men so inadequately paid, that they must depend for their subsistence upon bribery. Nothing is so difficult as to bring a man to trial who has any thing in his purse, except to bring him to execution; this, unless in Madrid, and in Catalunia, where the Conde de España is captain-general, is impossible; for money will always buy indemnity. Every thing in Spain connected with the following out of the laws, is in the hands of the escrivanos; these are the friends of all bad men: for whatever be the action a man may commit, or meditate, he has only to confide in the escrivano, and pay for his protection.
The following remarkable fact, I had from the lips of an eye-witness, a highly respectable American merchant, of Malaga. One day last winter, two butchers quarrelled in the market-place, and got to high words; and one of them, according to the usual practice in such cases, put his hand under his girdle, and half drew forth his knife. All the while, an escrivano, of known talent in his profession—a man who never allowed any one who confided in him, to be either tried or executed, stood close by. While the man still but half shewed his knife, as if uncertain whether to use it or no, the escrivano continued to jog him on the elbow: “Da le,” (give it him), said the lawyer, “aqui estoy yo;” (don’t you see that I am here, so that no harm can come to you). The butcher, however, had not been sufficiently roused, for he put up his knife; and the escrivano, turning to him with a look of contempt, said, “Alma miserable!” (mean-spirited creature), “and so, for the sake of 400 or 500 reals, you would not revenge yourself upon your enemy.”
Before concluding these examples of a bad, weak, and tyrannical government, I cannot refrain from mentioning the case of a man, who has been in prison ever since the evacuation of Spain by the French army; and who has still many years of punishment before him.
Shortly after the Duke D’Angouleme took possession of Barcellona, the inhabitants were one morning awoke by the ringing of bells, and other tokens of rejoicing: the cause of this was soon announced to be, that the Virgin of Monte Serrate, an image of silver or wood,—I forget which,—had come to Barcellona, of her own free will, probably considering herself more secure there, than in the convent of Montserrat; and about a year afterwards, when it became evident that the French intended no outrage upon the convent, it was given out that the virgin had signified her intention to return; but it was determined, upon this occasion, that she should not be allowed to return by herself, but that she should be carried with great pomp. A Catalunian peasant, who stood in the line of procession, perhaps with better eye-sight—perhaps with less faith, than his neighbours,—unfortunately expressed aloud, the thought that passed through his mind: “She’s only made of wood,” said he;—and for this offence, he was arrested, tried, and condemned to ten years’ imprisonment in the citadel!
These various facts will suffice, I think, as proofs of that which I intended they should illustrate: the despotism and the weakness of the Spanish government—the total want of integrity that characterizes all its dealings—and its absolute inefficiency to execute the laws, either for its own protection, or for the redress of others.