Spanish Life in Town and Country | Page 3

of her last colonies overseas, she appears to the superficial

observer to be a dead or dying nation, no longer of any account among
the peoples of Europe.
But this is no fact; it is rather the baseless fancy of incompetent
observers, to some extent acquiesced in, or at least not contradicted, by
the proud Castilian, who cares not at all about the opinions of other
nationalities, and who never takes the trouble to enlighten ignorance of
the kind. True, there was an exhibition of something like popular
indignation when the people fancied they discovered a reference to
Spain in the utterances of two leading English statesmen, during the
war with America, and the feeling of soreness against England still to
some extent exists; in fact, strange as it may appear, there is far less
anger against America, which deprived Spain of her colonies, than
against England, which looked on complacently, and with obvious
sympathy for the aggressor. But all this is past, or passing. The
Spaniards are a generous people, and no one forgets or forgives more
easily or more entirely. Those who knew Madrid in the days of Isabel
II., would not have imagined it possible that the Queen, who had been
banished with so much general rejoicing, could, under any
circumstances, have received in the capital a warm greeting; in fact, it
was for long thought inexpedient to allow her to risk a popular
demonstration of quite another character. But when she came to visit
her son, after the restoration of Alfonso XII., her sins, which were
many, were forgiven her. It was, perhaps, remembered that in her youth
she had been more sinned against than sinning; that she was muy
Española, kind-hearted and gracious in manner, pitiful and courteous to
all. Hence, so long as she did not remain, and did not in any way
interfere in the government, the people were ready to receive her with
acclamation, and were probably really glad to see her again without her
camarilla, and with no power to injure the new order of things.
No nation in the world is more innately democratic than Spain--none,
perhaps, so attached to monarchy; but one lesson has been learned,
probably alike by King and people--that absolutism is dead and buried
beyond recall. The ruler of Spain, to-day and in the future, must
represent the wishes of the people; and if at any time the two should
once more come into sharp collision, it is not the united people of this

once-divided country that would give way. For the rest, so long as the
monarch reigns constitutionally, and respects the rights and the desires
of his people, there is absolutely nothing to fear from pretender or
republican. At a recent political meeting in Madrid, for the first time,
were seen democrats, republicans, and monarchists united; amidst a
goodly quantity of somewhat "tall" talk, two notable remarks were
received with acclamation by all parties: one was that Italy had found
freedom, and had made herself into a united nationality, under a
constitutional monarch; and the other, that between the Government of
England and a republic there was no difference except in name--that in
all Europe there was no country so democratic or so absolutely free as
England under her King, nor one in which the people so entirely
governed themselves.
Among the many mistaken ideas which obtain currency in England
with regard to Spain, perhaps none is more common or more baseless
than the fiction about Don Carlos and his chances of success. A certain
small class of journalists from time to time write ridiculous articles in
English papers and magazines about what they are pleased to call the
"legitimatist" cause, and announce its coming triumph in the Peninsula.
No Spaniard takes the trouble to notice these remarkable productions of
the fertile journalistic brain of a foreigner. There are still, of course,
people calling themselves Carlists--notably the Duke of Madrid and
Don Jaime, but the cult, such as there is of it in Spain, is of the
"Platonic" order only,--to use the Spanish description of it, "a little talk
but no fight,"--and it may be classed with the vagaries of the amiable
people in England who amuse themselves by wearing a white rose, and
also call themselves "legitimatists," praying for the restoration of the
Stuarts.
The truth about the Carlist pretension is so little known in England that
it may be well to state it. Spain has never been a land of the Salic Law;
the story of her reigning queens--chief of all, Isabel la Católica, shows
this. It was not until the time of Philip V., the first of the Bourbons, that
this absolute monarch limited the succession to heirs male by
"pragmatic sanction"; that is to say, by his own unsupported order. The
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