History of Civilization in England, Vol. 2 of 3

by Henry Thomas Buckle

In Spain, however, there never has been a revolution, properly so called; there never has even been one grand national rebellion. The people, though often lawless, are never free. Among them, we find still preserved that peculiar taint of barbarism, which makes men prefer occasional disobedience to systematic liberty. Certain feelings there are of our common nature, which even their slavish loyalty cannot eradicate, and which, from time to time, urge them to resist injustice. Such instincts are happily the inalienable lot of humanity, which we cannot forfeit, if we would, and which are too often the last resource against the extravagances of tyranny. And this is all that Spain now possesses. The Spaniards, therefore, resist, not because they are Spaniards, but because they are men. Still, even while they resist, they revere. While they will rise up against a vexatious impost, they crouch before a system, of which the impost is the smallest evil. They smite the tax-gatherer, but fall prostrate at the feet of the contemptible prince for whom the tax-gatherer plies his craft. They will even revile the troublesome and importunate monk, or sometimes they will scoff at the sleek and arrogant priest; while such is their infatuation, that they would risk their lives in defence of that cruel Church, which has inflicted on them hideous calamities, but to which they still cling, as if it were the dearest object of their affections.

Connected with these habits of mind, and in sooth forming part of them, we find a reverence for antiquity, and an inordinate tenacity of old opinions, old beliefs, and old habits, which remind us of those tropical civilizations which formerly flourished. Such prejudices were once universal even in Europe; but they began to die out in the sixteenth century, and are now, comparatively speaking, extinct, except in Spain, where they have always been welcomed. In that country, they retain their original force, and produce their natural results. By encouraging the notion, that all the truths most important to know are already known, they repress those aspirations, and dull that generous confidence in the future, without which nothing really great can be achieved. A people who regard the past with too wistful an eye, will never bestir themselves to help the onward progress; they will hardly believe that progress is possible. To them, antiquity is synonymous with wisdom, and every improvement is a dangerous innovation. In this state, Europe lingered for many centuries; in this state, Spain still lingers. Hence the Spaniards are remarkable for an inertness, a want of buoyancy, and an absence of hope, which, in our busy and enterprizing age, isolate them from the rest of the civilized world. Believing that little can be done, they are in no hurry to do it. Believing that the knowledge they have inherited, is far greater than any they can obtain, they wish to preserve their intellectual possessions whole and unimpaired; inasmuch as the least alteration in them might lessen their value. Content with what has been already bequeathed, they are excluded from that great European movement, which, first clearly perceptible in the sixteenth century, has ever since been steadily advancing, unsettling old opinions, destroying old follies, reforming and improving on every side, influencing even such barbarous countries as Russia and Turkey; but leaving Spain unscathed. While the human intellect has been making the most prodigious and unheard-of strides, while discoveries in every quarter are simultaneously pressing upon us, and coming in such rapid and bewildering succession, that the strongest sight, dazzled by the glare of their splendour, is unable to contemplate them as a whole; while other discoveries still more important, and still more remote from ordinary experience, are manifestly approaching, and may be seen looming in the distance, whence they are now obscurely working on the advanced thinkers who are nearest to them, filling their minds with those ill-defined, restless, and almost uneasy, feelings, which are the invariable harbingers of future triumph; while the veil is being rudely torn, and nature, violated at all points, is forced to disclose her secrets, and reveal her structure, her economy, and her laws, to the indomitable energy of man; while Europe is ringing with the noise of intellectual achievements, with which even despotic governments affect to sympathize, in order that they may divert them from their natural course, and use them as new instruments whereby to oppress yet more the liberties of the people; while, amidst this general din and excitement, the public mind, swayed to and fro, is tossed and agitated,—Spain sleeps on, untroubled, unheeding, impassive, receiving no impressions from the rest of the world, and making no impressions upon it. There she lies, at the further extremity of the Continent, a huge and torpid mass, the sole representative now remaining of the feelings and knowledge of the Middle Ages. And, what is the worst symptom of all, she is satisfied with her own condition. Though she is the most backward country in Europe, she believes herself to be the foremost. She is proud of every thing of which she should be ashamed. She is proud of the antiquity of her opinions; proud of her orthodoxy; proud of the strength of her faith; proud of her immeasurable and childish credulity; proud of her unwillingness to amend either her creed or her customs; proud of her hatred of heretics, and proud of the undying vigilance with which she has baffled their efforts to obtain a full and legal establishment on her soil.

All these things conspiring together, produce, in their aggregate, that melancholy exhibition to which we give the collective name of Spain. The history of that single word is the history of nearly every vicissitude of which the human species is capable. It comprises the extremes of strength and of weakness, of unbounded wealth and of abject poverty. It is the history of the mixture of different races, languages, and bloods. It includes almost every political combination which the wit of man can devise; laws infinite in variety, as well as in number; constitutions of all kinds, from the most stringent to the most liberal. Democracy, monarchy, government by priests, government by municipalities, government by nobles, government by representative bodies, government by natives, government by foreigners, have been tried, and tried in vain. Material appliances have been lavishly used; arts, inventions, and machines introduced from abroad, manufactures set up, communications opened, roads made, canals dug, mines worked, harbours formed. In a word, there has been every sort of alteration, except alterations of opinion; there has been every possible change, except changes in knowledge. And the result is, that in spite of the efforts of successive governments, in spite of the influence of foreign customs, and in spite of those physical ameliorations, which just touch the surface of society, but are unable to penetrate beneath, there are no signs of national progress; the priests are rather gaining ground than losing it; the slightest attack on the Church rouses the people; while, even the dissoluteness of the clergy, and the odious vices which, in the present century, have stained the throne, can do naught to lessen either the superstition or the loyalty which the accumulated force of many centuries has graven on the minds, and eaten into the hearts of the Spanish nation.

Footnotes:

[1164] In the second chapter of the first volume of Buckle's History of Civilization.

[1165] ‘The low state of agriculture in Spain may be ascribed partly to physical and partly to moral causes. At the head of the former must be placed the heat of the climate and the aridity of the soil. Most part of the rivers with which the country is intersected run in deep beds, and are but little available except in a few favoured localities, for purposes of irrigation.’ M'Culloch's Geographical and Statistical Dictionary, London, 1849, vol. ii. p. 708. See also Laborde's Spain, London, 1809, vol. iv. p. 284, vol. v. p. 261. The relative aridity of the different parts is stated in Cook's Spain, London, 1834, vol. ii. pp. 216–219.

[1166] On these droughts and famines, see Mariana, Historia de España, Madrid, 1794, vol. ii. p. 270, vol. iii. p. 225, vol. iv. p. 32. Conde, Historia de la Dominacion de los Arabes en España, Paris, 1840, pp. 142, 149, 154, 170. Davila, Historia de la Vida de Felipe Tercero, Madrid, 1771, folio, lib. ii. p. 114. Clarke's Letters concerning the Spanish Nation, London, 1763, 4to. p. 282. Udal ap Rhys' Tour through Spain, London, 1760, pp. 292, 293. Spain by an American, London, 1831, vol. ii. p. 282. Hoskins' Spain, London, 1851, vol. i. pp. 127, 132, 152. ‘España es castigada frecuentemente con las sequedades y faltas de lluvias.’ Muriel, Gobierno de Carlos III., Madrid, 1839, p. 193.

[1167] ‘Añádase á todo esto las repetidas pestes, y mortales epidemias que han afligido á las provincias de España, mayormente á las meridionales que han sido las mas sujetas á estas plagas. De estas se hace mencion en los anales é historias muy freqüentemente; y en su confirmacion se puede leer el tratado histórico, ó epidemiológia que sobre ellas ha publicado Don Joachîn de Villalba, donde se verá con dolor y espanto con quanta freqüencia se repetian estos azotes desde mediados del siglo décimoquarto.’ … ‘Dos exemplos bien recientes y dolorosos hemos visto, y conservaremos en la memoria, en los formidables estragos que acaban de padecer gran parte del reyno de Sevilla, Cádiz, y sus contornos, Málaga, Cartagena, y Alicante; sin contar la mortandad con que han afligido á la mayor parte de los pueblos de ámbas Castillas las epidemias de calenturas pútridas en el año pasado de 1805.’ … ‘Por otra parte la fundacion de tantas capillas y procesiones á San Roque, y á San Sebastian, como abogados contre la peste, que todavía se conservan en la mayor parte de nuestras ciudades de España, son otro testimonio de los grandes y repetidos estragos que habian padecido sus pueblos de este azote. Y el gran número de médicos españoles que publicáron tratados preservativos y curativos de la peste en los reynados de Cárlos V., Felipe II., Felipe III., y Felipe IV., confirman mas la verdad de los hechos.’ Capmany, Qüestiones Criticas, Madrid, 1807, pp. 51, 52; see also pp. 66, 67; and Janer, Condicion Social de los Moriscos de España, Madrid, 1857, pp. 106, 107; and the notice of Malaga in Bourgoing, Tableau de l'Espagne, Paris, 1808, vol. iii. p. 242.

[1168] ‘Earthquakes are still often felt at Granada and along the coast of the province of Alicante, where their effects have been very disastrous. Much further in the interior, in the small Sierra del Tremédal, or district of Albarracia, in the province of Terruel, eruptions and shocks have been very frequent since the most remote periods; the black porphyry is there seen traversing the altered strata of the oolitic formation. The old inhabitants of the country speak of sinking of the ground and of the escape of sulphureous gases when they were young; these same phenomena have occurred during four consecutive months of the preceding winter, accompanied by earthquakes, which have caused considerable mischief to the buildings of seven villages situated within a radius of two leagues. They have not, however, been attended with any loss of life, on account of the inhabitants hastening to abandon their dwellings at the first indications of danger.’ Ezquerra on the Geology of Spain, in the Quarterly Journal of the Geological Society of London, vol. vi. pp. 412, 413, London, 1850. ‘The provinces of Malaga, Murcia, and Granada, and, in Portugal, the country round Lisbon, are recorded at several periods to have been devastated, by great earthquakes.’ Lyell's Principles of Geology, London, 1853, p. 358. ‘Los terremotos son tan sensibles y freqüentes en lo alto de las montañas, como en lo llano, pues Sevilla está sujeta á ellos hallándose situada sobre una llanura tan igual y baxa como Holanda.’ Bowles, Introduccion à la Historia Natural de España, Madrid, 1789, 4to, pp. 90, 91. ‘The littoral plains, especially about Cartagena and Alicante, are much subject to earthquakes.’ Ford's Spain, 1847, p. 168. ‘This corner of Spain is the chief volcanic district of the Peninsula, which stretches from Cabo de Gata to near Cartagena; the earthquakes are very frequent.’ Ford, p. 174. ‘Spain, including Portugal, in its external configuration, with its vast tableland of the two Castiles, rising nearly 2,000 feet above the sea, is perhaps the most interesting portion of Europe, not only in this respect, but as a region of earthquake disturbance, where the energy and destroying power of this agency have been more than once displayed upon the most tremendous scale.’ Mallet's Earthquake Catalogue of the British Association, Report for 1858, p. 9, London, 1858.

I quote these passages at length, partly on account of their interest as physical truths, and partly because the facts stated in them are essential for a right understanding of the history of Spain. Their influence on the Spanish character was pointed out, for I believe the first time, in my History of Civilization, vol. i. pp. 123, 124. On that occasion, I adduced no evidence to prove the frequency of earthquakes in the Peninsula, because I supposed that all persons moderately acquainted with the physical history of the earth were aware of the circumstance. But, in April 1858, a criticism of my book appeared in the Edinburgh Review, in which the serious blunders which I am said to have committed are unsparingly exposed. In p. 468 of that Review, the critic, after warning his readers against my ‘inaccuracies,’ observes, ‘But Mr. Buckle goes on to state that “earthquakes and volcanic eruptions are more frequent and more destructive in Italy, and in the Spanish and Portuguese peninsula, than in any other of the great countries.” Whence he infers, by a singular process of reasoning, that superstition is more rife, and the clergy more powerful; but that the fine arts flourish, poetry is cultivated, and the sciences neglected. Every link in this chain is more or less faulty. There is no volcano in the Spanish peninsula, and the only earthquake known to have occurred there was that of Lisbon.’ Now, I have certainly no right to expect that a reviewer, composing a popular article for an immediate purpose, and knowing that when his article is read, it will be thrown aside and forgotten, should, under such unfavourable circumstances, be at the pains of mastering all the details of his subject. To look for this would be the height of injustice. He has no interest in being accurate; his name being concealed, his reputation, if he have any, is not at stake; and the errors into which he falls ought to be regarded with leniency, inasmuch as their vehicle being an ephemeral publication, they are not likely to be remembered, and they are therefore not likely to work much mischief.