Spain in 1830, vol. 2

by Henry D. Inglis

I found the pictures presented by the street population of Malaga interesting, because they were novel; but the streets themselves presented little attraction. The only handsome part of the town is the Alameda; the other parts present a labyrinth of narrow, intricate streets, almost wholly inhabited by the tradespeople, or by a low population; but the buildings that line both sides of the Alameda are magnificent, and the interior of many of these houses, I found more splendid than any thing I had yet seen in Spain. The public buildings are but indifferent; with the exception of the cathedral, which is greatly admired by the people of Malaga; but which, after having seen those of Toledo and Seville, possesses but little attraction. Like the cathedral of Cadiz, it is not finished; it was intended to be surmounted by six towers, but only one of these has been erected. There are no pictures in the cathedral, nor are there any worthy of notice in the other churches or convents of the city.

The state of society in Malaga, does not greatly differ from that of the other cities in the south of Spain; but there is one strange peculiarity in Malaga society, that cannot but forcibly strike a stranger: this is, the extraordinary familiarity of servants. I have frequently seen servants at table, join in conversation with the family: a female servant while receiving orders, always sits down in the company of her mistress; and, upon one occasion, while a game at basto was playing, I saw a servant who had brought refreshments, walk forward to the table, place his two pecetas upon it, retire, and wait at a little distance to know the fate of his stake.

With respect to morals, I might repeat what I have said of Cadiz: I may merely add, that a Spanish lady of Malaga, married to a highly respectable Scotch merchant and consul, and who had resided all her days there, told me that she did not know one Spanish woman in Malaga who had always led a virtuous life. So universal is the system of gallantry in Malaga, that a gentleman is not designated as señor so and so, but invariably as the cortejo of this or that señora. In another respect, too, the low state of morals is shewn: I allude to the great laxity of female conversation. I was informed by the English mother of three grown-up daughters, that it was impossible to allow them to keep company with either married or unmarried Spanish women; and this I can very well believe, judging by the tone of conversation to which I have myself been witness.

Last autumn, Malaga supported an Italian opera; at which I was twice present. Upon one of these occasions, La Gaza Ladra was performed, and not ill performed. The Prima Donna was a sister of Malibran,—a very inferior singer to her celebrated relative, but by no means despicable, and she was well supported both in the vocal parts and by the orchestra. The theatre was crowded, and the dresses of the ladies might be called splendid. The love of dress is carried to a great length in Malaga. A young lady, fifteen years of age, who was of the same party with myself at the opera, told me that she had given twenty dollars for her fan; and another young person, the daughter of a small tradesman in Malaga, told me, when I admired her comb, that it had cost fourteen dollars. It was a curious spectacle in leaving the theatre, to see some hundreds of servants with lanterns waiting in the street. Gentlemen and ladies, have alike their lantern to light them home. To attempt the dark narrow streets of Malaga without this accompaniment, would be to tempt the mala gente, and certainly to encounter great and unnecessary risk. It was a very unseasonable interruption, just when every servant had discovered his master, and when the line of march had begun, to hear the little bell that announced the approach of the host. All the lights were suddenly arrested in their progress, and the procession passed through an avenue of kneelers, illuminated by the hundreds of lanterns that were placed upon the ground,—the spectacle was undoubtedly picturesque.

I consider myself to have had rather a narrow escape while at Malaga, in a visit which I made to the ruins of the castle. The ruins of the Moorish fortifications are of extraordinary extent; they reach from the city to the summit of the hill that flanks it to the east,—a distance not much less than a mile; and desirous of inspecting the ruins, as well as of enjoying the views which I had no doubt were to be enjoyed from the heights, I devoted an afternoon to this walk. As I ascended, occasional gaps in the ruins discovered charming glimpses over the city, the sea, and the mountains; and at one spot, where a half-fallen spiral staircase leads to the summit of a round tower, whose ruins flank the wall,—the whole magnificence of the prospect burst upon me. The city, washed by the Mediterranean,—the fertile plain to the north of Malaga, covered with gardens and orangeries, and sprinkled with villages and convents, and the fine range of magnificent and curiously broken mountains that environ that little plain;—the situation of Malaga leaves nothing to desire. I had not yet ascended above half way,—and the higher up, the more extensive are the ruins; the lower part being occupied by fortifications, but the upper half of the hill being covered with the remains of the castle. Soon after leaving the tower, I passed three ruffian-looking men sitting under the wall playing cards; and perhaps prudence ought to have whispered to me to return; but an Englishman with difficulty persuades himself of the possibility of violence in day-light; and the sun being above the horizon, I continued my walk. Higher up, I found myself entirely enclosed among the ruins; and having gone so far, and believing that I could be at no great distance from the summit, I resolved not to return by the same road, but to find some path that might lead me down the other side of the hill, either towards the sea or the back of the city. I therefore continued threading my way among the ruins. I had reached a very solitary spot, entirely shut in by massive walls, when, passing within ten or twelve yards of a low archway, scarcely two feet above the ground, I chanced to turn my eye in that direction, and was startled by seeing the dark countenances of two men peering from the mouth of it, their bodies being concealed by the gloom within. All that I had heard and knew of the character of the lowest class in Malaga, suddenly recurred to my mind; I felt the full danger of my situation, and walking a few wide paces farther, as if I had not observed them, till a fragment of the ruin was fortunately intercepted between me and the arch, I sprung forward with no tardy step; but not before a stealthy glance had shewn me the figure of one man already half way between the arch and myself, and another on the point of emerging from his lurking place. I have not the smallest doubt, that if these men had been aware of my approach, or if, in the hurry of the moment, I had mistaken my path among the ruins, or found no outlet, I should never have returned to write this volume: fortunately, however, I had not run more than twenty yards, when a gap in the wall shewed me the open country below, and the next moment I had passed through it, and dropped into a small olive plantation. I made what haste I could, down the hill to the city; and when I related the circumstance that had taken place, I was told I had been guilty of an imprudence that no one acquainted with Malaga would have ventured upon; that robbery, and murder also, had been perpetrated among these ruins; and that I owed my escape to nothing but the lucky accident of finding a speedy exit.

When we think of Malaga, it is generally in connexion with its wines; which, although not so much in vogue in England as in other times, yet enjoy a high reputation, and along with its fruits, form the distinction and the wealth of Malaga. I shall therefore make no apology for occupying a few pages with some details respecting the wines and fruits of this most southern city of the continent of Europe.

The wines of Malaga are of two sorts, sweet, and dry; and of the former of these, there are four kinds. First, The common “Malaga,” known and exported under that name. In this wine there is a certain proportion of boiled wine, which is allowed to burn, and which communicates a slightly burnt taste to the “Malaga.” The grape from which this wine is made, is a white grape, and every butt of Malaga contains no less than eleven gallons of brandy. Secondly, “Mountain.” This wine is made from the same grape as the other, and like the other, contains colouring matter, and brandy; the only difference is, that for “mountain,” the grape is allowed to become riper. Thirdly, “lagrimas,” the richest and finest of the sweet wines of Malaga; the name of which almost explains the manner in which it is made. It is the droppings of the ripe grape hung up, and is obtained without the application of pressure.

The dry wine of Malaga is produced from the same grape as the sweet wine, but pressed when greener: in this wine there is an eighth-part more of brandy than in the sweet wine; no less than one twelfth part of the dry Malaga being brandy.

The whole produce of the Malaga vineyards is estimated at from thirty-five to forty thousand butts, but owing to the increasing stock of old wine in the cellars, it is impossible to be precise in this calculation. The export of all the Malaga wines may be stated at about twenty-seven thousand butts. The principal market is the United States, and the States of South America; and to these countries, the export is rather upon the increase. The average price of the wines shipped from Malaga, does not exceed thirty-five dollars per butt; but wines are occasionally exported at so high a price as one hundred and seventy dollars. Many attempts have been made at Malaga to produce sherry, but not with perfect success. The Xeres grape has been reared at Malaga, upon a soil very similar to its native soil; but the merchants of Malaga have not ventured to enter the wine for export. For my own part, judging from a sample of wine which I tasted at the warehouse of Messrs. W. & G. Read, I should say that the experiment had succeeded; and that the sherry made at Malaga, might be introduced into the English market as sherry; and from its great cheapness, it could not fail to command a sale. One reason of the very low price of the wines of Malaga, is to be found in the cheapness of labour: field labour is only two and a half reals a day (4½d.). In the fruit and vintage time it is about double.

Next to its wines, the chief export of Malaga is fruit; consisting of raisins, almonds, grapes, figs, and lemons: but of these, raisins are the principal export. I have before me, a note of the exports of Malaga for the months of September and October, in the year 1830—the chief, though not the sole exporting months,—and I find, that during that time, the export of raisins amounted to two hundred and sixty-eight thousand, eight hundred and forty-five boxes; and thirty-one thousand, nine hundred and sixteen smaller packages. Of this quantity, one hundred and twenty-five thousand, three hundred and thirty-four boxes were entered for the United States; forty-five thousand, five hundred and thirteen for England; the remaining quantity being for France, the West Indies, the Spanish ports, South America, and Holland.