The Story of Seville

by Walter M. Gallichan

At Coria you will be an object of curiosity, for very few strangers visit the little village. The Gitanas inhabit 'dug-outs,' or caves, in the hillside. These dens are only lit by the doorway, but they are not so dark within as one might expect. Nor are they unwholesome, for the gipsies appear to take pride in keeping their habitations clean. Most of the cooking is done outside the burrow. There is quite a warren in the hill, which is honeycombed with dwellings of this savage kind.

Strange to say, not a single Gitana begged from me when I visited the colony. But the Gentile population of Coria were somewhat importunate when our party embarked for the return journey to Seville, and most of the lads of the village congregated on the landing-stage to beg for centimos.

Macarena and Juderia, the poor barrios or suburbs of Seville, are not like our English slums. There is no sign of abject want, though the people have a keen struggle for subsistence. The houses are all white-washed without, and the little courts have their climbing roses or a grape vine trained to pillars. There are malodours here and there, owing to the insanitary practices of the people; but the inhabitants of these quarters are seldom ragged, and they do not appear dejected, dirty and degraded.

Now and then, a mischievous boy will throw a stone at the foreigner, or a group of idlers will break into derisive laughter when you pass by. On the other hand, ask a question civilly of these people, and they will put themselves to trouble to assist you in finding the church or the monument of which you are in quest. Beware, however, of the soft-tongued, amiable loafer who persists in dogging your heels and offering his services as a guide.

Begging, which is such an intolerable nuisance in some of the Spanish towns, has been almost suppressed in Seville by the rigorous municipal laws. The mendicant is not extinct; some of the order are sure to be encountered in the neighbourhood of the Cathedral, but they do not pester the visitor incessantly as in Toledo and Granada. A number of the idle and vicious inhabitants of Seville appear to be homeless. In this balmy Southern climate, the al fresco life of the tramp is not unendurable; still I am told that beggars sometimes die in Spain by the roadside from sheer want.

The Plaza Nueva is a favourite nocturnal resort of the gamins and vagabonds of the city, and at one in the morning the space presents a scene resembling that of Trafalgar Square in the days when unfortunate 'out-of-works' camped there nightly.

In the Macarena quarter is the market street of the Feria. This thoroughfare should be seen. It is the home of metal-workers, whose beaten brass, iron and copper ware is interesting and artistic in workmanship. Peripatetics here display a jumble of second-hand articles upon the ground, such as books, old pictures, brass candlesticks, tools, buttons, pistols, rusty swords, harness, and mule bells. There are stalls of fruit, coloured kerchiefs, hats and caps, shoes, and common china ware. The scene is bustling and bright.

Here the young and unknown artists of Seville were wont to sell their pictures in former times. Murillo and many another painter of renown stood here anxiously awaiting chance purchasers for their works. These 'fair pictures' were often daubs; but sometimes, no doubt, a buyer secured the work of a young genius for a trifling sum. If a purchaser wished a picture altered to his taste, the artist would retouch it upon the spot.

These were hard days for young painters. But many who hawked their religious pictures and portraits of the Virgin and the saints for pesetas rose to fame, and gained wealth in their later days. A pintura de la Feria became a term in Spain for a meretricious picture. Some of the Feria paintings were still-life subjects, and others were sargas, large screens or banners used in sacred processions.

One of the sights of modern Seville is the Fábrica de Tabacos, a factory where a large number of women and girls are employed. The building is a handsome one, in the baroque style, in the Calle de San Fernando. The cigarreras work in overcrowded rooms. On public holidays they don their smartest dress, and are to be seen at the romerias and dances.