LIFE IN SPAIN
Madrid, 1786. As noted
by a visiting (Protestant) Englishman - Joseph Towsend*.
Extracted from his book: A journey through Spain
in the years 1786 and 1787
When you pay a visit to
a lady (for whenever there is a lady in the family the visit is
always to her) you neither knock on the door or ask questions of the
porter but go direct to the room where she usually receives her
company, and there you seldom fail to find her, morning, noon and
night; in winter sitting by the brazier, surrounded by her friends,
unless when she is gone to Mass. The friends are mostly gentlemen,
because ladies seldom visit in a familiar way; and of the gentlemen
thus assembled, one is commonly the Lover[Cortejo]. I say usually
because it is not universally the case. During the whole of my
residency in Spain, I never heard of jealousy in a husband. Nor could
I ever learn, for certain, that such a thing existed. Yes, in the
conduct of many ladies, whether it proceeds from the remains of
delicacy or from a sense of propriety, or from fear, you may
evidently see caution, circumspection and reserve, when their
husbands are in sight. Some have address enough to keep the lover in
concealment; and this, in Spain, is attended with no great difficulty
because, when the ladies go to Mass, they are so disguised so as not
to be easily distinguished. Their dress on that occasion is peculiar
to the country. They all put on a black silk petticoat and the
mantilla, which serves the double purpose of cloak and veil, so as
completely, if required, to hide the face. Thus disguised they are at
perfect liberty to go where they please.But should they be attended
by a servant, he is to be gained, and therefore becomes little or no
restraint. Besides this, every part of the house is so accessible by
day and so the husband is completely nobody at home, so seldom
visible, or, if visible, so perfectly a stranger to all who visit in
his family, that the lover may easily escape unnoticed. This,
however, will not always satisfy the Spanish ladies, who, being quick
of sensibility and remarkably able for strong attachment, are
miserable when their lover is out of sight. He must be present every
moment in the day, whether in private or in public, in health or
sickness, and must be everywhere invited to attend them. There have
been recent examples of women, even of high station, who have shut
themselves up for months, during the absence of their lovers; and
this not merely from disgust but to avoid giving them offence. If the
lady is at home, he is at her side. When she walks out (he leans upon
her arm), when she takes her seat in an assembly, an empty chair is
always left for him. And if she joins in a country dance, it is with
him. As every lady dances two minuets at a ball, the first is with
her lover, the second with a stranger. With the former, if she has
any vivacity, i e makes it visible, and if she can move with grace,
it then appears. But with the latter she evidently shows, not
indifference, but disgust. And seems to look on her partner with
disdain.
As soon as any lady
marries, she is teased by numerous competitors for this distinguished
behaviour, until she is fixed in her choice. When the unsuccessful
candidates either retire or submit to become, in future, what might
be called lovers of the brazier, without any pretensions beyond that
of sitting round the embers to warm themselves in winter.
It is reckoned
disgraceful to be fickle. Yet innumerable instances are seen of
ladies who often change their lovers. In this there is a natural
progression, for it cannot be imagined, that women of superior
understandings, early in life distinguished for delicacy of
sentiment, for prudence and for elevation of their minds, should
hastily arrive at the extreme, where passion triumphs, and where all
regard for decency is lost. As for others, they soon finish the
career. It is, however, humiliating to see some who appear to have
been designed by nature to command the reverence of mankind at last
degraded and sunk to low opinion of the world, as to be never
mentioned but with contempt. These have changed so often and become
so unfaithful to every engagement that universally despised then end
with having no lover.
I have observed that
jealousy is seldom, if ever, to be discovered in a husband. But this
cannot be said in favour of a new connection, because both parties
are tormented by suspicion. This, it must be confessed, is natural.
For as both are conscious that there is no other bond between them
but the precarious bond of mutual affection, each must tremble at the
approach off anyone who might interrupt their union. Hence they are
constantly engaged in watching each other's looks and, for want of
confidence, renounce in great measure the charms of social
intercourse. Even in public they live as if they were alone,
abstracted and absorbed, attentive only to each other. He must not
take notice of any other lady. And, if any other gentlemen should
converse with her, in a few minutes she appears confused and filled
with fear that she may have given offence. In all probability she has
and, should she be the first duchess in the land and he only a
non-commissioned officer in the army, she may be treated with
personal indignity. And we have heard of one who was dragged by her
hair about the room. But if, instead of giving she has taken the
offence, even the more delicate will fly like a tigress at his eyes
and beat him in the face till he is black and blue. It sometimes
happens that a lady becomes weary of her first choice, her fancy has
become fixed on some new object. And she wishes to change. But the
former, whose vanity is flattered by the connection, is not willing
to dissolve it. In lower life, this moment gives occasion to many of
those assassinations which abound in Spain. But in the higher
classes, among whom the dagger is proscribed, the first possessor –
if a man of spirit – maintains possession and the lady dares not
discard him, lest an equal combat should prove fatal to the man of
her affections. In this contest, the husband is out of sight and
tells for nothing.
In a Catholic country,
with such depravity of morals, it may naturally be enquired what
becomes of conscience, and where is discipline? It is well known that
all are under obligation to confess, at least once a year, before
they receive the eucharist. Everyone is at liberty to choose his
confessor and priest. But before he leaves the altar, he takes a
certificate that he has been there and this he delivers to the curate
of his own parish, under pain of excommunication should he fail to do
so. When, therefore, a married woman appears, year after year, before
her confessor to acknowledge that she has been and still continues to
be living in adultery, how can he grant her absolution or how can he
be moderate in the penance he enjoins? Without penance, and unless
the priest is satisfied there is contrition, with full purpose of
amendment, there can be no absolution, no participation in the
eucharist. And in the neglect of this excommunication follows. Yet,
from the universal prevalence of this offence, we may be certain
there must be some way of evading the rigour of the law. Nothing is
more easy. As for the penance, it is imposed by those who can have
compassion of the frailties of mankind and is, therefore, scarcely
worthy to be mentioned. In many instances it is ridiculous. Were any
confessor severe, he would have few at his confessional. The
absolution is commonly a more serious business because the penitent
must no only testify contrition but must give some token of amendment
by abstaining, at least for a season, from the commission of the
crime which is the subject-matter of confession. The first absolution
may be easily obtained. But, when the offender comes year after year
with the same confession, if he will obtain absolution, he must
change his confessor. And this practice is not only disgraceful but
sometimes ineffectual. Here then it is needful to adopt some new
expedient. Two naturally present themselves. For either some priest,
destitute of principle, will be found who for some consideration will
furnish billets. Or else, which is the prevailing practice in Madrid,
the common prostitutes, conferring and receiving the hold sacrament
in many churches and collecting a multitude of billets, either sell
or give them to their friends. I have certificates before me. As
these carry neither name nor signature, they are easily transferred.
The principal lovers
of the great cities are the canons of the cathedrals. But where the
military reside, they take their choice and leave the refuse[rubbish] for the church.
More on the clergy's
activities tomorrow . . . .
* Joseph
Townsend (1739-1816) was a physician,
geologist and vicar of Pewsey in Wiltshire, perhaps best known
for his 1786 treatise A Dissertation on the Poor Laws in
which he expounded a naturalistic theory of economics and opposed
state provision, either outdoor or otherwise. Educated
at Cambridge, Townsend was ordained in the Church of England in
1763 and then studied Medicine at Edinburgh, he remained a practising
Anglican throughout his life. He was personal chaplain to the Duke of
Atholl from 1769 and accompanied him on the 'grand tour'. In the field
of medicine, Townsend was noted for the introduction of 'Townsend's
Mixture' of Mercury and Potasium Iodide, as a treatment
for syphilis. He defended the biblical creation story
in The Character of Moses as an Historian, Recording Events from the
Creation to the Deluge(1813).
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