Letters from Spain

by Joseph Blanco White

The line of distinction between the noblesse and the unprivileged class being here drawn with the greatest precision, there cannot be a more disagreeable place for such as are, by education, above the lower ranks, yet have the misfortune of a plebeian birth. An honest respectable labourer without ambition, yet with a conscious dignity of mind not uncommon among the Spanish peasantry, may, in this respect, well be an object of envy to many of his betters. Gentlemen treat them with a less haughty and distant air than is used in England towards inferiors and dependents. A rabadán (chief shepherd), or an aperador (steward), is always indulged with a seat when speaking on business with his master, and men of the first distinction will have a kind word for every peasant, when riding about the country. Yet they will exclude from their club and billiard table a well-educated man, because, forsooth, he has no legal title to a Don before his name.

This town, though one of the third order, supports three convents of friars and two of nuns. A gentleman of this place who, being a clergyman, enjoys a high reputation as a spiritual director, introduced us to some of the ladies at the nunneries. By this means I became acquainted with two very remarkable characters—a worker of miracles, and a nun in despair (monja desesperada). The first was an elderly woman, whose countenance and manners betrayed no symptoms of mental weakness, and whom, from all I was able to learn, it would be difficult to class either with the deceiving or deceived. The firm persuasion of her companions that she is sometimes the object, sometimes the instrument of supernatural operations, inspires them with a respect bordering upon awe. It would be tedious to relate the alleged instances of her prying into futurity, and searching the recesses of the heart. Reports like these are indeed easily raised and propagated: but I shall briefly relate one, which shows how stories of this kind may get abroad through the most respectable channels, and form a chain of evidence which ingenuity cannot trace up to involuntary error, and candour would not attribute to deliberate falsehood.

The community of the Descalzas (unshod nuns) had more than once been thrown into great consternation on seeing their prioress—for to that office had her sanctity raised the subject of my story—reduced, for many days together, to absolute abstinence from food and drink. Though prostrate, and with hardly any power of motion, she was in full possession of her speech and faculties. Dr. Carnero, a physician well known in these parts for skill and personal respectability, attended the patient, for though it was firmly believed by the nuns that human art could not reach the disease, it is but justice to say, that no attempts were visible to give it a supernatural character among strangers. The doctor, who seems to have at first considered the case as a nervous affection, wished to try the effect of a decided effort of the patient under the influence of his presence and authority; for among nuns the physician is next in influence to the professor. Having therefore sent for a glass of water, and desiring the attendants to bolster up the prioress into a sitting posture, he put it into her hand, with a peremptory injunction to do her utmost to drink. The unresisting nun put the water to her lips, and stopped. The physician was urging her to proceed, when to his great amazement he found the contents of the glass reduced to one lump of ice.—We had the account of this wonder from the clergyman who introduced us to the nun. Of his veracity I can entertain no doubt: while he, on the other hand, was equally confident of Dr. Carnero’s.

Our visit to the other convent made me acquainted with one of the most pitiable objects ever produced by superstition—a reluctant nun. Of the actual existence of such miserable beings one seldom hears in Spain. A sense of decorum, and the utter hopelessness of relief, keep the bitter regrets of many an imprisoned female a profound secret to all but their confessor. In the present case, however, the vehemence of the sufferer’s feelings had laid open to the world the state of her harassed mind. She was a good-looking woman, of little more than thirty: but the contrast between the monastic weeds, and an indescribable air of wantonness which, in spite of all caution, marked her every glance and motion, raised a mixed feeling of disgust and pity, that made us uncomfortable during the whole visit. We had, nevertheless, to stay till the customary refreshments of preserves, cakes, and chocolate were served from within the double grate that divided us from the inhabitants of the convent. This is done by means of a semicircular wooden frame which fills up an opening in the wall: the frame turns upon its centre, presenting alternately its concave and its convex side. The refreshments being placed within the hollow part; a slight impulse of the hand places them within reach of the visitors. This machine takes the name of torno, from its rotatory motion. But I must leave the convents for a future letter.

After a few days not unpleasantly spent at Osuna, we proceeded to Olbera. The roads through all the branches of the Sierra de Ronda, though often wild and romantic, are generally execrable. A mistake of our servant had carried us within two miles of a village called Pruna, when we were overtaken by a tremendous storm of hail and thunder. Rain succeeded in torrents, and forced us to give up all idea of reaching our destination that evening. We, consequently, made for the village, anxious to dry our clothes, which were perfectly wet through; but so wretched was the inn, that it had not a room where we could retire to undress. In this awkward situation, my friend as a clergyman, thought of applying to the vicar, who, upon learning his name, very civilly received us in his house. The dress of this worthy priest, a handsome man of about forty, shewed that he was at least as fond of his gun and pointer, as of his missal. He had a little of the swaggering manner of Andalusia, but it was softened by a frankness and a gentleman-like air, which we little expected in a retired Spanish vicar. The fact is, that the livings being poor, none but the sons of tradesmen or peasants have, till very lately, entered the church, without well-grounded hopes of obtaining at once a place among the dignified clergy. But I should rather say that the real vicars are exempted from the care of a parish, and, under the name of beneficiados, receive the tithes, and spend them how and where they please. The nomination of curates belongs to the bishops; some of whom, much to the credit of the Spanish prelacy, have of late contrived to raise their income, and thereby induced a few young men, who, not long ago would have disdained the office, to take a parish under their care. The superiority, however, which was visible in our host, arose from his being what is known by the name of cura y beneficiado, or having a church, of which, as is sometimes the case, the incumbency is inseparable from the curacy. He was far above his neighbours in wealth and consequence; and being fond of field sports and freedom, he preferred the wild spot where he had been born, to a more splendid station in a Spanish cathedral.

The principal, or rather the most frequented, room in the vicars house was, as usual, the kitchen or great hall at the entrance. A well-looking woman, about five and thirty, with a very pretty daughter of fifteen, and a peasant-girl to do the drudgery of the house, formed the canonical establishment of this happy son of St. Peter. To scrutinize the relation in which these ladies stood to the priest, the laws of hospitality would forbid; while to consider them as mere servants, we shrewdly guessed, would have hurt the feelings of the vicar. Having therefore, with becoming gallantry, wound ourselves into their good graces, we found no difficulty, when supper was served up, in making them take their accustomed places, which, under some pretence, they now seemed prepared to decline.

Our hearty meal ended, the alcalde, the escribano (attorney), and three or four of the more substantial farmers, dropped in to their nightly tertulia. As the vicar saw no professional squeamishness in my reverend companion, he had no hesitation to acquaint us with the established custom of the house, which was to play at faro till bed-time; and we joined the party. A green glazed earthen jar, holding a quart of brandy, flavoured with anise, was placed at the foot of the vicar, and a glass before each of the company. The inhabitants of the Sierra de Ronda are fond of spirits, and many exceptions to the general abstemiousness of the Spaniards are found among them. But we did not observe any excess in our party. Probably the influence of the clergyman, and the presence of strangers kept all within the strictest rules of decorum. Next morning, after taking a cup of chocolate, and cordially thanking our kind host, we took horse for Olbera.

Some miles from that village, we passed one of the extensive woods of ilex, which are found in many parts of Spain. In summer, the beauty of these forests is very great. Wild flowers of all kinds, myrtles, honeysuckles, cystus, &c. grow in the greatest profusion, and ornament a scene doubly delicious from the cool shade which succeeds to the glare of open and desolate plains, under a burning sun. Did not the monumental crosses, erected on every spot where a traveller has fallen by the hands of robbers, bring gloomy ideas to the mind, and keep the eye watching every turn, and scouring every thicket, without allowing it to repose on the beauties that court it on all sides; Spain would afford many a pleasant and romantic tour. Wild boars, and deer, and a few wolves, are found in these forests. Birds of all kinds, hawks, kites, vultures, storks, cranes, and bustards, are exceedingly numerous in most parts of the country. Game, especially rabbits, is so abundant in these mountains, that many people live by shooting; and though the number of dogs and ferrets probably exceeds that of houses in every village, I heard many complaints of annual depredations on the crops.

We had traversed some miles of dreary rocky ground, without a tree, and hardly any verdure to soften its aspect, when from a deep valley, formed by two barren mountains, we discovered Olbera, on the top of a third, higher than the rest, and more rugged and steep than any we had hitherto passed Both the approach and view of the town were so perfectly in character with what we knew of the inhabitants, that the idea of spending a week on that spot became gloomy and uncomfortable at that moment.