MADRID IN 1835.

THESE volumes contain as complete and finished a picture of the outward forms of a city, and of the manners and habits of its citizens, as we ever met with. The most striking objects, as well as the most general customs and manners of the Spanish capital, are brought before the reader, not in a mere naked description, but animated by the persons who figure in the scenes ; who, in their turn, are characterized by speeches, or dialogues of dramatic vigour and national truth. The descriptions may sometimes be prolonged beyond the point at which interest ceases, or may occa- sionally be so impregnated with Southern warmth as to overstep the boundary of Northern taste; in parts the writer may have been forestalled by others, or he may have touched briefly upon subjects already fully described ; or, in spite of a professed dis- claimer of literary ability, he may now and then display too much art in his management ; but, taken altogether, Aland. in 1835 is a very pleasant and spirited picture of Spanish life, and a searching exhibition of Spanish character, by an able man, who appears well acquainted with both. The work opens with a description of the drear and desert-like character of the approach to Madrid, and of the appearance of its streets and their strange frequenters. We are then taken by the author to the hotels and coffeehouses ; whence, dis- gusted at their negligence, dirt, bad accommodation, bad provi- sion, and infamous charges, we ramble with him in search of a lodging to the different lodging-houses of Madrid. This peep into the interior of one class of domiciles, naturally leads to a survey of Spanish housek in general, with their scant and miser- able furniture, the sordid expenditure of their indwellers, as well as their usual avocations and manner of life. Still sticking to domestic subjects, the general characteristics of Spanish servants are brought before us; whence the passage is easy to the markets of Madrid, the description of their supplies, and the insolence and lawlessness of the market-people. The public places and pro- menades, the theatres, the masked balls, and the other amusements of the people, both abroad and at home—the sights of the ca- pital—and the different festivals, with their pastimes—are next described; together with the Corporation and its abuses, and the Post-office and its management. These are the subjects of the first volume; but the reader who should stop there, would lose the most important and interesting portion of the work. The opening chapter of the second volume contains a lively and pungent sketch of the six departments of the Ministry, and of the subordinate officials; concluded by a picture of a Minister's levee, that for animation, character, variety, and satire, is equal to any scene in romance. This is followed by an account, melancholy yet ludicrous, of the persons, pursuits, means, position, and public insignificance of the Spanish grandees ; after which comes a most elaborate dissection of the power and influence of the Church—of the means by which they are exercised, and a description of the effects they produce, illustrated, as is the manlier of the writer, by powerful sketches of individual cases. To these succeed the hospitals and prisons of Madrid,—slightly done, if compared with the accounts in Spain Revisited. The whole is closed by a spirited sketch of the beggars of the capital, and some Memorable Recollections of the year 1834—including a light de- scription of the terror produced by the appearance of the cholera, a forcible picture of the massacre of the monks by the people, and a Ikely account of a journey to Valladolid. The first impression left by Madrid in 1835, confirms an opinion we lately expre.,3ed, that, " whilst every other European country bad been advan-ing, Spain had been standing still ;" or rather, our author warrants us in saying, that she has changed only for the worse. Her vices have stuck to her ; but stripped of their dress, they are naked or squalid. As we read in the pagesbefore us, the vivid descriptions of the rascality and familiarity of the Spanish domestics, the independence with which they serve, and the ease with which they come and go,—as we contemplate the various adventures of the capital, from the robber cavaliers stalk- ing abroad in insolent safety at noon-day, to the numerous emis- saries, ready to do any one's bidding in any matter,—as the cor- ruption and apathy of the Government and the countless applicants for its favours are unfolded,—and as we are shown the facilities for intrigue, both public and private, and are plainly told of the former, whilst the universal existence of the latter is broadly enough hinted,—we recognize the life whence the earlier Spanish novelists drew their materials, in all the coarseness of reality, Without a redeeming charm or grace of fiction. The trivial, been-

tious grandee, is there ; but his sprightly gayety is gone. There are rogues in plenty ; but where is their ready wit ? Intrigue is stripped of its danger and its risks—it is altogether an animal and pocket affair. The Church, deprived of its fattest possessions by royal incumbents, and eschewed by the aristocracy, no longer af- fords even an Archbishop with taste enough to be vain of his ser- mons. Its members are sturdy vagabonds, without the accomplish- ments of an established or the zeal of a militant church. Petitioners alone seem to be as of yore. If we can trust the picture already alluded to, place-and-pension-hunters are as numerous, as dis- tressed, and as disappointed as ever ; whilst we learn that the beggars, even in the capital, take a leaf out of that worthy's book who procured altos from Gil Bias, for the love of God.

But there is a darker picture. However weak in reality, the Government of former ages was strong in opinion. Party fear and party vengeance were limited to those few who mingled in the intrigues of the Court for power and place. But the old prestige has passed away. The Napoleonic changes, and the succeeding revolutions, have rendered the Government powerless but for tyranny, infected society with a political furor, and die vided it into two grand sections, each suspicious of and dreading the other, and with fear comes hatred. Hence the Carlist mur- ders of prisoners; hence the urban massacres of the Christinos; and hence a feeling in society that promises still bloodier fruit. " Blood must and will flow, until Spain has little left in her veins; otherwise we arc a lost nation." " It is astonishing," adds our author, after quoting this exclamation of a companion, " how many, otherwise sensible and humane persons, fall into this ex. treme way of thinking. In Spain there is no favour or compro- mise possible—one party most destroy the other. " Our recollections are too strong and too bitter, our blood too boiling." Such are the expressions which one is every day hearing;" and which bid too fair to realize themselves. The crisis of that degraded country's disease will be a vigorous despotism, and she is much more likely to get a ROBESPIERRE than a PETER the Great. Leaving these speculations, let us turn to Madrid in 1835 for something of a lighter nature. Here is a pleasant deseription.of one of the finest streets in the capital.

THE CALLE ALCALA

Is, no doubt, a very fine street, possessing a splendid public monument: the Customhouse and many private houses are of an elevated order of architec- ture : this does not prevent its being the street of Madrid which presents most anomalies. There, as everybody knows, there are no areas to the houses, as in London ; the lower part being entirely destined to lumber-rooms, or wine vaults, or general receptacles for any thing and every thing. Nobody dreams of living under-ground: as they say themselves, that will come in due time and long before they could wish. The ground-floors having windows towards the street, are secured, like those of a prison, with thick iron bars, pretty closely set together,—an appearance that gives no very favourable idea of the watchfulness of the police or the honesty of the citizens. This precaution, which elsewhere would scare everybody from taking such a well-defended citadel, produces no such effect among the natives. They are quite as much sought after as any other story, and, indeed, preferred by many, on account of their coolness hi

summer. • • • •

Besides the above peculiarity, this street of Alcala is famous for its osterias (hostelries), the resting-place of a numerous gang of arrieros (muleteers) and ordinarios (regular carriers to and from the various principal towns). You step out of a palace, and enjoy, next door, the grateful smell of horse-dung. the picturesque and energetic dialogues of the aforesaid tribe, the tinkling of the bells round the mules' necks, as they move about in their stables, while three or four huge dogs, with an iron collar stuffed with nails, defending their throats, are stretched out upon the threshold pretending to be asleep, merely waiting for a pretext to give you a good shaking. Two or three manulas contri- bute to harmonize this picture, wrangling in the ample gateway about the generosity or fidelity of their queridos, upon hints received that the wench of some posada on the road has succeeded in overturning the constancy of their "man." A strong odour of well•pitched wine-skins increases the enjoyment of the passenger ; who thinks he has escaped as he passes before seemly houses and handsome shops, until he finds himself stopped by a crowd of jolly (lois, rolling out of a despacho de vino (a drinking•shop), next door to a jeweller a. A little further on is a trinda de comestibles (provision-shop), where you may see the portly mistress or greasy master of the establishment, enshrined. amidst festoons of sausages, flitches of fine fat bacon, piles of chocolate, cheese, quarters of lamb or kid, according to the season, all hung up and dis- posed in goodly array.

STREET NUISANCES.

The very bread and meat you eat have the merit of being " mounted :" the- bread you meet trotting through the streets, in large capassos (panniers) made of esparto, hanging on each side of the horse, with the jockey perched between them, pulling up at the door of his customers. This expeditious mode of dis- tribution has nothing disgusting or filthy about it ; the panniers being very deep, almost touching the ground, and prevented by a short stick passed tinder the horse's belly from striking together, or impeding his march. The contents are sufficiently protected from wet and dust. The same cannot be said in favour of the- plan followed with respect to the supply of butcher's meat. also hawked about eat poste ; quarters of beef, or as many as six sheep on each side, are fixed by large iron hooks to the wooden pack-saddle, the rider disposing his own carcase as well as he can in the middle, his legs dangling on either aide of the horse's neck to help him to preserve his equilibrium. In this trim he titles off with his raw cargo, washed by the rain or parched and saturated with dust, as it may happen,—an object of not less admiration and respect to all the strolling dogs in the neighbourhood through which he passes: in token of both, they generally accompany him the length of the street with their noses in the air, kept from a nearer inspection by the formidable look of the Perro de Presa, or Mallorca mastiff, which runs along chained to the meat-saddle, scowling from the corner of his blood-shot eye on his new acquaintance, but taking particular pains not to get his toes trod on as he goes along. I have more than once seen a lady's mantle unceremoniously laid hold of by a leg of beef, and the owner of the former whirled round and round, besides staining her finery. Indignation is of but little use ; the whole thing is done in a sharp trot; be- fore you cease spinning, or can get on your legs if overturned, the man, and horse, and beef, and mastiff, are doing probably the same thing in a distant quarter.

SPANISH SOCIETY AND ITS OCCUPATIONS.

Almost every house in Madrid, from the back-room of the shop to the palace, has its tertulia, or circle of acquaintance, who come to spend the evening,

sitting round the brazero during the winter, in the balconies during summer, and chat over and repeat the gossip and anecdotes of the day, and discuss the thousand-and• one reports which are abroad, and serve to delight the inhabi- tants of this news-thirsty city. During the intervals, they call in the friendly aid of the Havanna, puro, pajella, or papeleta, and gradually envelop the circle in en ambrosial cloud ; giving something of the goddess attributes of an- cient mythology to the ladies there assembled, part of than dress and persons being visible to mortals, the rest hidden in a vapoury veil, nowise repugnant to

the smell or nerves. Taste being a matter of convention and comparison, cri- ticism here is out of place. A novice, however, coal find it difficult not to admire the wondrous feats performed by the amateurs of the cigar to attract the notice of the ladies and excite the envy of their less intrepid companions. At one moment one of those gifted beings discharges a column of blue smoke Ent down one nostril, then down the other, while the vulgar crowd are con- tented to get it well out of their mouths. When he sees curiosity on the

wane, a vapour proceeding from his eye rouses attention and applause. Though smoke front such a pure is, in itself, a phenomenon, the production of which might well satisfy the ambition and exertions of u long- life, still emulation, laudisque immensa cupido—that passion which moved Brutus to the slaughter of his own offspring—increases with the difficulty of the performance. The organs of eating, of smelling, and of vision, have been made subservient to the cigar ; a cloud of smoke, inhaled in the usual way, issuing again in graceful wreath from one or both of the organs of hearing, according as the caprice or versatility of genius may suggest, indicates that the inc plus ultra of the art has been attained. Such acquirements constitute, undoubtedly, new and strong claims to a favourable reception in society, but they are not indispensable. No place offers such perfect social facility as the Spanish tertulia. Anybody presented by any other body at all known to the master of the house, is sure to be politely received ; and, unless iu some very peculiar case, offered the house

—the usual compliment paid to .a stranger or new acquaintance. The great demoralization of society in Spam may be attributed, m no small degree, to

this unbounded admission of a nameless crowd, destitute even of the slightest pretensions to birth, talent, or character, into the best houses of the capital and country ; where they elbow, and are elbowed by, the most distinguished indivi- duals in the nation on a footing of the most perfect equality.

The Spaniards are naturally a social and good-natured race, little given to suspicion in such relations, when the persons composing or intruding MI them

oiler no probability of competition or rivalry in their respective careers. In houses where play is permitted, they are received as tributary streams to the great ocean ; when there is a fiddle, they are planets of the first magnitude, being fur the most part unembarrassed with superfluous flesh, an active race, with elastic limbs, often depending on them and their wits for subsistence.

They dance from the first rigorous rota of the orchestra to its last quavering notes. They afford salutary and agreeable exercise to many muchachas, whose

looks or persons might repel less enterprising cavaliers. Mothers are pleased,

sometimes grateful ; new doors open to those sons of fortune, and they are soon declared to be the "nicest men of the whole tertulia." A decent coat and

look, and the show of a few ounces, are much better passports to society than the best character and station. The master of the house is frequently igno- rant of the quality and circumstances of his guests. The usual answer to the query " Do you know that man ? "—No, I know nothing at all about him ; he was introduced by so-and•so, who conies here often ; but he appears a burro aujeto, muy fin° y atento (a good young man, very polite and attentive.)

The chapter on the Ministry and the Administration, is far too long and too various for us even to bring out its points; but we will take an anecdote or two, as specimens of the Spanish modes of doing business.

CLERKLY YRACTICES. CLERKLY YRACTICES.

One instance, among hundreds, will suffice to illustrate the sort of way in which business is transacted by these faithful clerks. It was the custom, and, notwithstanding the three or four royal orders strictly prohibiting it, may still be so, to grant merely honorary military rank as high as that of colonel to rich merchants and proprietors in the colonial possession's of Spain, where such dis- tinctions are greatly prized. In some few instances, favours of this description were bestowed as a reward of financial services to the state, &c. ; but the great majority were obtained by intrigue and money properly laid out in Madrid. One rich colonist sent home six thousand dollars to his agent, with instructions to do his best in exchanging them for the three stripes of lace betokening a colonel's rank. The bait was shown to and snapped at by the proper clerk, who immediately set his engines to work to enable him to secure so rich a prize. His efforts, however, were of no avail ; the modest prayer was flatly refused. Were six thousand dollars, then, to be so easily renounced? Perish the thought ! The clerk (the very same who promised to do wonders for our friend Don Bernabe) had at that time in his office the expediente of another person in a position altogether different, to whom this favour was accorded, and the brevet directed to be made out. lint then be had succeeded without paying for it,-- an offence, in our worthy clerk's eyes, deserving of all punishment. He took his measures accordingly. Availing himself of the moment when a number of commisions were lying ready to be signed by the Minister, he contrived to slip one with his customer's name into the other's expediente, relying on his own experience and good fortune for a successful result. The Minister on such occasions generally contents himself with referring to the margin of the expe- diente; and on being satisfied that the "concedido" (granted) is lawfully in- scribed there, immediately signs the brevet, without running through the body of it, the formula being tine same in all. It happened as the clerk foresaw : his Excellency merely cast his eye on the concedido, and immediately signed the brevet, which was sent off by the next post. The six thousand dollars' "con- sideration" were duly pocketed, and looked upon as well and honestly earned. The colonist still wears his three stripes, and the proper object of the favour is still without redress for the wrong he sustained. Reclannations against such proceedings are useless, because they can never be proved, and only serve to bring a man into fresh difficulties. The clerk in question made large sums in this way; and yet I believe he was one of the most upright among them all—at least, he was always talking of the tenderness of his conscience in matters of business. He is since dead ; but his example finds many imitators.

In Spain no Minister is responsible. His actions are done in the King's name, and supposed to be done by the King's orders. The Patriots have left this non-responsibility as they found it ; and will do se, we may be sworn, till the people are enlightened enough to control their representatives steadily. See the re- sults— Tienen el Rey en el tintero" (they have got the King in their inkstand) is the common phrase applied to the incessant taking tine name of majesty in vain in order to suit private purposes or passions. In a great variety of in- stances, a Minister has It in his power to dispense with personal applications to the King, and to employ his name, of course with equal effect as if consulted. This affords a latitude more than dangerous ; it is destructive in the highest degree of every thing like individual security or liberty. Such a privilege is synonymous with the lettres de cachet of the old regime in France, and even more formidable, as being obtained and made use of with much less formality and greater frequency. Are you anxious to get rid of a troublesome fellow who is ogling your wife or daughter, or standing between you and the sun, ot doing any thing else you do not like ?—if you are a friend of any of the Ministers, you have nothing to do but to go to him ; or, what is better still, if you have a friend in some clerk in his office; and you will obtain, tither through friend, ship, or for in email stipulated consideration, a Royal order, despatching tine of- fending party to any part of the Peninsula or Colonies beyond sew; that you like to fix upon. Ile, to be sure, may have a family, or business requiring his con- stant personal attention : it matters nut u straw ; if you weigh heavier than Inc dues, off he goes, were lie " tirst cousin to the Pope." 'finis facility of em- ploying the Royal sanction without any immediate control, enables Ministers to do many handsome things by their friends, which it might not be quite so con- venient to lay before their royal master or mistress.