Chapter VI (2)

I had just been calling in at the Horse-Guards for a chat, my business completed, the excitement over, and was proceeding westward on foot along the Birdcage Walk, when I began to feel nervous and done up. All at once, my faculties experienced a sort of collapse. My whole frame was seized with a deadly chill; I shivered spasmodically; my strength seemed gone; and I became most enormously drowsy. Just at that moment--I suppose it was some anniversary, a birthday perhaps--bang, bang, the Park guns commenced firing, close at hand. In the midst of the firing, I sat down on a bench, and, in no time, dropped asleep. Then began my dream.

It was a general action. The curious circumstance is, that I was still in the Park. The guns firing a holiday salute became the French position, which occupied the plateau of a low range of hills. At the foot of this range, in an avenue extending along its foot, was I alone. The firing went on, bang-banging, now no longer a _feu-de-joie_--the report was that of shotted guns. I heard not only their discharge, but the moan of the balls, and the whisk of the grape; yes, and the rattle of musketry, the shouts of men charging, and all that kind of thing. I saw the dust, the smoke, the occasional flash, quite as much as you can see of any battle if you're in it. Yet, all this time, I knew I was in the Birdcage Walk. Presently, in the direction of the Green Park, I heard a more distant cannonade, which was that of the British position. It was now time to change mine; for some of the shot from our guns began to pass up the avenue, close to me, tearing, rasping up the gravel, crashing among the trees, cutting down boughs, and rifting the trunks. Yet something kept me fixed. At length, looking in the direction of the British position, I distinctly saw a round-shot come hopping up the avenue--hop--hop--hop--nearer and nearer--but slowly--slowly--slowly; it seemed all but spent. Just when I thought it had done hopping, it took one more jump, and, with a heavy pitch, fetched me an awful polt in the right side. That moment I felt that I was a dead man; killed in action, yet by a friendly ball, and while sitting on a bench in St James's Park! The vision now passed. The noise and firing ceased; troops, smoke, dust--all the concomitants of combat vanished; the Birdcage Walk and its beautiful environs resumed their ordinary appearance.

Presently, while still sitting on the bench, I was accosted by a tall sallow-looking gentleman in black, who smirked, bowed, and handed me a letter with a broad black border--the seal, a tombstone and a weeping willow. It was addressed to myself--an invitation to attend a funeral. I pleaded my engagements--wanted to get back to Woolwich--begged to be excused. 'Sir,' said he, in courteous accents, 'you really must oblige us. Unless you are present, the funeral cannot take place. Hope you won't disappoint us, sir. I am the undertaker, sir.' I somehow felt that I had no choice, and went. The gentleman in black met me at the door.

Other parties were assembled at the mansion; but not one of the company--I thought it rather strange--either spoke to me, or looked at me, or showed the least consciousness of my presence. The undertaker was all attention; handed round black kid gloves; fitted first one with a hatband, then another; and, last of all, addressed me: 'Now, sir, if you please, this way, sir; we only wait for you, sir.' I followed him. He led me into an adjoining apartment, where stood the coffin, surrounded by mutes. I wished to read the name on the lid, but was prevented by the pall.

How we got to the place of interment, I recollect not. The only thing I remember is this: as I saw the coffin carried down stairs, hoisted into the hearse, conveyed, hoisted out, and at last deposited by the side of the grave--every movement, every jolt, every thump, seemed to jar my whole system with a peculiar and horrid thrill. The service was performed, the coffin was lowered, the grating of the ropes grated upon my very soul; and the dust sprinkled by the sexton on its lid blew into my mouth and eyes, as I stood by the brink of the grave, and looked on. The service concluded, the undertaker, attendants, and company withdrew; and, what d'ye think?--there was I left remaining in the burial-ground, with no companion but a solitary gravedigger! He set to work, and began shovelling in the clods, to fill the grave. I heard their thud; I seemed to feel it, as they rattled in quick succession on the lid of the coffin.

'You'll soon be filled in and all right, old feller,' said the gravedigger, as he proceeded with his work.

A strange idea had gradually occupied my mind. It seemed absurd--impossible; and yet it offered the only conceivable solution of my sensations at that horrid moment. I addressed the gravedigger,--

'My friend,' said I, 'have the goodness to inform me WHOSE funeral this is.'

'Whose funeral?' replied the gravedigger. 'Come, that's a good un. Vhy, it's YOUR OWN.'--I'll trouble you for a little more punch."

SPAIN UNDER NARVAEZ AND CHRISTINA.

The condition of Spain since the last French revolution, and especially since the commencement of the present year, has been taken as a theme of unbounded self-gratulation by persons who ascribe her tranquillity and alleged prosperity to their own patriotism and skill. For many months past, the friends, organs, and adherents of the dominant Camarilla have not ceased to call attention to the flourishing state of the country; repeatedly challenging the Continent to produce such another example of good government, internal happiness, and external dignity, as is now afforded by the fortunate land which their patrons and masters rule. When so many European states are revolutionised and unsettled, it is indeed pleasant to hear this good report of one which we have not been accustomed to consider a model for the imitation of its neighbours. Delightful it is to learn that Spain has cast her blood-stained slough of misrule, discord, and corruption, and glitters in renovated comeliness, an example to the nations, a credit and a blessing to herself, a monument of the disinterested exertions and unwearied self-devotion of her sage and virtuous rulers. We are anxious to believe that these glowing accounts are based upon fact, and worthy of credence--not a delusion and a blind; and that the happiness and prosperity so ostentatiously vaunted exist elsewhere than in the invention of those interested in proclaiming them. But we cannot forget that the evidence produced is entirely _ex-parte_, or lose sight of the great facility with which the French and English press and public accord credit and praise to the present government of Spain, simply on its own or its partisans' assertions of the great things it has done, and is about to do. It is not easy to obtain a correct knowledge of the condition of the bulk of the Spanish nation. That the country prospers means, in the mouths of the schemers and place-hunters of Madrid, and of the smugglers of the frontier, that there is a brisk flow of coin into their own pockets. That it is tranquil signifies that no rebellious banner is openly displayed in its territory. No matter that the government is carried on by shifts, by forced loans and forestalled taxes and ruinous contracts; that the public servants of all grades, irregularly paid, and with bad examples before them, peculate and take bribes; that the widow and the orphan, the maimed soldier and the superannuated pensioner, continually with long arrears due to them, are in rags, misery, and starvation; that to the foreign creditor is given, almost as a favour, no part of the interest due upon the capital he has disbursed, but the interest on a small portion of the accumulation of unpaid dividends; that the streets and highways swarm with mendicants, and are perilous from the multitude of robbers; that the insecurity of life and property in country-places drives the rich proprietors into the towns, and prevents their expending their capital in the improvement of their property; and that the peasantry, deprived of instruction, example, and encouragement, deprived too, by the badness and scarcity of the communications, of an advantageous market for their produce, sink, as a natural consequence, daily deeper into sloth, ignorance, and vice. What matter all these things? The miseries of the suffering many are lightly passed over by the prosperous few: in Spain the multitude have no voice, no remedy but open and armed resistance. Thus it is that Spanish revolutions and popular outbreaks startle by their suddenness. Until the victim openly rebels, his murmurs are unheard: the report of his musket is the first intimation of his misery. In England and in France, abuses, oppression, and injustice, of whatever kind, cannot long be kept from the light. It is very different in Spain, under the present _régime_. There the liberty of the press is purely nominal, and no newspaper dares denounce an abuse, however flagrant, or speak above its breath on subjects whose discussion is unpleasing to the governing powers. On the first indication of such presumption, number after number of the offending journal is seized, fines are inflicted, and if the editors audaciously persevere, they may reckon with tolerable certainty on exile or a prison. On the other hand, the ministerial and Camarilla organs, those of the Duke of Valencia and of Señor Sartorius, and of the dowager queen, and even of the dowager's husband--for his Grace of Rianzares follows the fashion, and has a paper at his beck, (partly for his assistance in those stock exchange transactions whose pursuit has more than once dilapidated his wife's savings,)--papers of this stamp, we say, carefully disguise or distort all facts whose honest revelation would be unpleasant or discreditable to their employers. From the garbled and imperfect statements of these journals, which few Frenchmen, and scarcely any Englishmen, ever see, the "Madrid correspondents" of French and English newspapers--not a few of whom reside in Paris or London--compile their letters, and editors derive their data (for want of better sources) when discussing the condition and prospects of Spain. Hence spring misapprehension and delusion. Spain is declared to be prosperous and happy; and Spanish bondholders flatter themselves, for the hundredth time, with, the hope of a satisfactory arrangement--to which their great patience certainly entitles them, and which they might as certainly obtain were the ill-administered revenues of Spain so directed as to flow into the public coffers, and not into the bottomless pockets of a few illustrious swindlers, and of the legion of corrupt underlings who prop a system founded on immorality and fraud. The system is rotten to the core, and the prosperity of Spain is a phantom and a fallacy. Not that she is deficient in the elements of prosperity: on the contrary, the country has abundant vitality and resource, and its revenue has been for years increasing, in the teeth of misgovernment, and of a prohibitive tariff, which renders the customs' revenue almost nominal. But it matters little how many millions are collected, if they be intercepted on their way to the exchequer, or squandered and misappropriated as soon as gathered in.

In the absence of better evidence as to the real state of the country than that whose untrustworthiness we have denounced, the narrative of an unprejudiced and intelligent traveller in Spain has its value; and although the title of a recently published book by Mr Dundas Murray,[2] proclaimed it to refer but to one province, yet, as that province comprises many of the principal Spanish posts and cities, we hoped to have found in his pages confirmation or correction of our opinion as to the true condition of the nation, and more particularly of those middling and lower classes whose welfare is too frequently lost sight of in the struggles and projects of political factions. Since those pleasant "Gatherings" in which many home-truths were told with a playful and witty pen, no book on Spain worth naming has appeared; and if Mr Murray's visit be recent, which he does not enable us to decide, he had abundant opportunity during his pretty long residence and active rambles--aided, as we learn he was, by thorough familiarity with the language--to collect materials for a work of no common interest and importance. He has preferred, however, to skim the surface: the romantic and the picaresque, sketches on the road and traditions of Moorish Spain, are evidently more to his taste than an investigation of the condition of the people, and an exposure of social sores and official corruption. His book is a slight but unaffected production, containing much that has been said before, a little that has not, some tolerable descriptions of scenery, a number of legends borrowed from Conde and other chroniclers, and here and there a little personal incident which may almost pass muster as an adventure. Young Englishmen of Mr Murray's class and standard of ability, who start on a tour in Spain, are of course on the look-out for the picturesque, and think it incumbent on them to embody their experiences and observations in a book. Such narratives are usually praiseworthy for good feeling and gentlemanly tone; and indeed would be almost perfect, did they combine with those qualities the equally desirable ones of vigour and originality. But doubtless we shall do well to take them as they come, and be thankful; for it is not every one who has fortitude and courage to travel for any length of time in the flea-and-robber-ridden land of Spain. And as we cannot expect to meet every day with a Widdrington, a Carnarvon, or a Ford, so we must welcome a Murray when he presents himself, look leniently upon his repetitions, and be grateful if he occasionally affords us a hint or a text. It is perhaps a pity that Englishmen do not more frequently turn their steps towards the Peninsula, instead of pertinaciously pursuing the beaten tracks of Italy, Switzerland, the Levant; the furthest of which is now within the leave-of-absence ramble of a desultory guardsman or jaded journalist, covetous of purer air than Fleet Street or St James's afford. Spain, we can assure all who are rovingly inclined--and Mr Murray, we are certain, will corroborate our word--has at least as much to interest as any of the above regions, and much more than most of them. And assuredly an influx of British travellers would, by putting piastres into the pockets of the aborigines, do more than anything else towards improving roads, towards cleansing ventas of the _chinches_ and other light cavalry, against whose assaults Mr Murray was fain to cuirass himself in a flannel bag, towards ameliorating the Iberian cuisine, and diminishing the numbers and audacity of the knights of the road. For, as regards the last-named peril, greatly increased by the dispersion of the republican and Carlist bands, and by the misery prevalent in the country, Englishmen, if they have the reputation of travelling with well-filled pockets and portmanteaus, have also that of fighting stoutly in defence of their property; and if they would make it a rule to travel two or three together, with light purses, a sharp look-out, and a revolver a-piece--or, as Mr Murray and his companion did, each with a double-barrel on his shoulder--they might rest assured there are not many bands of brigands on Spanish roads bold enough to bid them, in the classical phrase of those gentry, "_Boca abajo!_" which means, freely interpreted, "Down in the dust, and _with_ the dust!" But let the traveller be on his guard against a surprise, and, to that end, avoid as much as possible all night-travelling, especially by diligence, which to many may seem the safest, on account of the society it insures, but which is in reality the most dangerous mode of journeying, for there the pusillanimous hamper and impede the resistance contemplated by the bold, and the bravest man can do little when jammed in amongst screaming women and terrified priests, with a carbine pointing in at each window of the vehicle. We find Mr Murray and his friend riding unmolested through an ambuscade where, a couple of hours later, three _calesas_ full of travellers, including a colonel in the army, were assailed by no more than three highwaymen, and deliberately and unresistingly plundered. For the traveller in Spain there is nothing like the saddle, whether for safety, independence, or comfort; and as to time, why, if he is short of that, he had better not visit the country, for there all things go _despacio_, which means not with despatch but leisurely, and for one "to-day" he will get twenty "to-morrows," and most of these will never come. And, above all, let him put no faith in the word police, which, in Spain, is a mere figure of speech, the thing it indicates never appearing until it is not wanted; and let him not reckon on an escort, which is rarely to be obtained even by paying, and on roads notoriously dangerous, except by tedious formality of application, to which few will have patience to submit. And even if granted, it usually, as in the case of the _calesas_ above cited, is either too weak to be useful, or lags behind, or fairly turns tail. To which prudent course it is more than suspected that the faithless guards, who are mostly pardoned robbers, are frequently stimulated by promise of a share of the spoil. Nor are they, if all tales be true, the only class in Spain whose duty it is to protect the public, and who foully betray their trust. During this present year of 1849, cited as so prosperous a one in Spain, robberies in the capital, and on the roads within a radius of twenty leagues around it, have been so numerous and audacious, and perpetrated with such impunity, that the finger of public suspicion has pointed very high, and the strangest tales--which to English ears would sound incredible--have been circulated of the collusion of personages whose rank and position would, in any other country, preclude the idea of participation, however secret and indirect, in gains so lawless and iniquitous. But in this, as in many other matters peculiar to the Peninsula, although the few may be convinced, the many will always doubt, and proof it is of course scarcely possible to obtain. In so extensive and thinly peopled a land as Spain, and which has been so long a prey to civil war and insurrection, security of travelling in rural districts, and on cross roads, is only to be obtained by increased cultivation of the soil, and by improving the condition of the peasantry. But in the capital, and on the roads leading to it, and in the towns and villages, some degree of law and order might be expected to prevail. A glance at the Spanish papers, any time for the last six months, proves the contrary to be the case. Their columns are filled with accounts of atrocious assassinations and barefaced robberies in the very streets of Madrid; of diligences stopped, and travellers plundered and abused; of farmers and others carried off to the mountains in open day, and detained until ransomed; and with letters from all parts of the country, complaining of the insecurity of life and property, and of the sluggishness and inefficiency of the authorities. Such statements are of course rarely admitted into the ministerial prints, to read which one would imagine that the very last malefactor in the country had just fallen into the hands of the _guardias civiles_, and that a virgin might conduct a gold-laden mule from Santander to Cadiz, unguarded and unmolested.

[2] _The Cities and Wilds of Andalusia._ By the Honourable R. DUNDAS MURRAY. London: 1849.

Since the death of Ferdinand, no such opportunity of improving and regenerating Spain has been afforded to a Spanish ministry, really solicitous of their country's good, as during the present year. It opened inauspiciously enough; with an impoverished exchequer, a ruinously expensive army, Cabrera and ten thousand Carlists in arms in eastern Spain, and with insurgent bands, of various political denominations, springing up in Navarre and other provinces. There was every prospect of a bloody civil war in early spring. But causes, similar to those which, on former occasions, had frustrated their efforts, again proved fatal to the hopes of the Carlist party. With great difficulty, and with little aid beyond that of contributions levied in Catalonia, Cabrera had subsisted his troops through the winter. But, when spring approached, money was needed for other purposes besides mere rations. In the civil wars of Spain, gold has often been far more efficacious than steel to overcome difficulties and gain a point. But gold was hard to obtain. Revolutions had raised its value; and those who possessed it were loath to embark it in so hazardous a speculation as the restoration of Count Montemolin. This prince, who, for a Spanish Bourbon, is not deficient in natural ability, has one unfortunate defect, which more than counterbalances his good qualities. Infirm of purpose, he is led by a clique of selfish and unworthy advisers, some of whom--evil counsellors handed down to him by his father--have retained all the influence they acquired over him in his childhood. Amidst the petty wranglings and deplorable indecisions of these men, time wore away. A sum of money (no very large one) was all that was needed to achieve a great object, which would at once have multiplied fifty-fold the prestige of the Montemolinist cause, and have placed vast resources at the disposal of its partisans. Between the sum required and the advantage certain to be obtained, the disproportion was enormous. Letter after letter was received from Cabrera and other promoters of the Montemolinist cause in France and Spain, urging and imploring that, at any sacrifice, the money should be procured. But this was beyond the power of the incapable _ojalateros_ who surrounded the young pretender. Without conduct, energy, or dignity, they had not a single quality calculated to obtain credit or induce confidence. In all their attempts they miserably failed. At last, towards the end of March, a rumour was spread abroad that Count Montemolin was on his way to Catalonia, to head his faithful adherents. Soon this was confirmed by newspaper paragraphs, and presently came a romantic account of his arrest on the frontier, when about to enter Spain. The next news was that of his return to England, which was almost immediately followed by an article in a London paper, denying point-blank that he had ever left this country, declaring that the journey was a hoax, and that the Spanish prince had been arrested by proxy. And although this article, which was extensively copied by the press of England and the Continent, elicited an angry contradiction from a hanger-on of Count Montemolin, yet many persons, of those most versed in the intricacies of Spanish intrigue, were convinced that its statements were founded on fact, and that the Count was in reality secreted in London at the very time he was supposed to be travelling towards the Pyrenees. And some of his own partisans, who credited the reality of the journey, declared their conviction from the first to have been, that he would be betrayed before he got through France, since by that means only could certain individuals, who dared not refuse to accompany him, hope to return to the flesh-pots and security of their London home, and to avoid encountering the perils and hardships of mountain warfare. The abortive journey or clumsy hoax, whichever it was, gave the finishing stroke to the Catalonian insurrection. Cabrera, seeing plainly that nothing was to be hoped from the feeble and pusillanimous junta of advisers who swayed and bewildered Count Montemolin by their intrigues and dissensions, found it necessary, after sending repeated and indignant letters and messages to London, to abandon a contest which it was impossible for him to maintain single-handed, and from which many subordinate chiefs, and a large portion of his troops, had already seceded. His little army fell to pieces, and he himself fell into the hands of the French authorities, by whom, after a brief detention, he was allowed to go at large. The game was now good for General Concha and his fifty thousand men. The scattering and hunting down of the broken bands of insurgents was exactly the sort of amusement they liked; a fine pretext for magnificent bulletins, and the easiest possible way of gaining praise, honours, and decorations. Before summer came, Catalonia was quiet. The most vigorous effort made by the Carlists since the Convention of Bergara; the one offering the best chances of success, and on which the very last resources of the party, (even, it is said, to a few jewels and pictures of price--the last relics of princely splendour,) had been expended; the effort, in short, of whose happy issue such sanguine expectations were entertained, that some of the leading adherents of the cause declared that, "if they failed this time, they deserved never to succeed," had terminated in complete abortion. On the sierras of Spain not a Carlist cockade was to be seen; in the coffers of the party not a dollar remained. Many of its most valued members, disgusted by the weakness of their prince, and by the baseness of his councillors, withdrew from its ranks, and made their peace with the existing government. And now the most steadfast well-wishers of Count Montemolin are compelled to admit, that few contingencies are less probable than his installation on the Spanish throne.

Delivered from the disquietude and expense of civil war, backed by an overwhelming majority in the Chambers, and having no longer anything to fear from that "English influence," of which the organs of Christina and Louis Philippe had made such a bugbear, the Spanish government, it was expected, would deem the moment favourable for those reforms so greatly needed by the country. It was full time, and it was now quite practicable, to adopt extensive and systematic measures of retrenchment in the various departments of the administration; to reduce the army; to regularise and lessen the expense of collecting the revenue, which, like a crop intrusted to negligent and dishonest reapers, is wasted and pillaged in the gathering; to encourage labour and industry; to stimulate private enterprise, to which the tranquillity of Spain was sure to give a first impetus; to encourage and co-operate in the formation of roads and canals, so essential to agriculture, which there languishes for want of them; to give a death-blow to smuggling by an honest and sweeping reform of the absurd tariff; and, if they could not give money to the public creditor, at least to come to a loyal understanding and arrangement with him, instead of vexatiously deluding him with fair promises, never kept. Instead of at once, and in good faith, setting about these, and many other equally requisite reforms, in whose prosecution they would have been supported by a large number of their present political opponents; instead of riveting their attention on the internal maladies and necessities of the country, and striving strenuously for their cure,--turning a deaf ear to the clamorous voices abroad in Europe, and thanking heaven that the position and weakness of their country allowed her to stand aloof from the struggles of her neighbours--what did the Spanish government? They acted like a needy spendthrift who, having suddenly come into possession of a little gold, fancies himself a Croesus, and squanders it in luxurious superfluities. They had come into possession of a little tranquillity--in Spain a treasure far rarer and more precious than gold--and, instead of using it for their necessities, they lavished it abroad. Aping wealthy and powerful nations, they aspire to interfere in the domestic affairs of others, before thinking of putting their own house in order. Rome is to be the scene of their exploits, religion their pretext, the Pope the gainer by their exertions. From their eagerness in the crusade, it might be supposed that Rome and the pontiff had some great and peculiar claim on the gratitude and exertions of Spain; with which country, on the contrary, ever since the death of Ferdinand of petticoat-making memory, until quite recently, they have been on the worst possible terms--the Holy See having openly supported the cause of Don Carlos, refused the recognition of Isabella, and the investiture of the prelates she appointed, and played a variety of unfriendly pranks, of no material consequence, but yet exceedingly painful and galling to the bigoted portion of the nation, who considered their chances of salvation not a little compromised, so long as their government was thus in evil odour and non-communication with the head of the Church. Altogether, the attitude assumed by Rome towards Spain, since 1833, was most detrimental to Queen Isabella, because it sent a vast number of priests (always active and influential partisans) to the side of the Pretender. Considering these circumstances, when Rome at last, at its own good time, and in consideration of concessions, and also because it suffered pecuniarily by the duration of the rupture, again took Spain into favour, and acknowledged her queen as Most Catholic, Spain, in her impoverished condition, would surely have sufficiently responded by her best wishes for the prosperity of the Pope, and for the safety of his pontifical throne. She might also, if it was desired, have sent that poetical statesman, M. Martinez de la Rosa, to display his eloquence in Italian counsels. But Spanish pride, the bigotry of the queen-mother and her son-in-law, the fanaticism of some, and the hypocrisy of others, could not be contented with this. Pinched, starved, indebted, as Spain is, nothing would serve but to despatch to Italy, at heavy cost, a useless _corps d'armée_. Little enough has it achieved. The troops have got a bad name by their excesses, and the generals have been treated slightingly, almost contemptuously, by the French commanders, who, doubtless, at sight of the half-disciplined Dons, felt old animosities revive, and thought how much they should prefer a trip to the Trocadero to this inglorious and unprofitable Italian campaign. To console General Cordova and his staff, however, for the necessity of playing second fiddle to the French, they have been praised, and caressed, and decorated by his Holiness, and by that enlightened monarch, Ferdinand of Naples; and they have been allowed to send an aide-de-camp to Barcelona for three nice little Spanish uniforms, which they are to have the honour of presenting to three nice little Neapolitan princes. Whilst this popinjay general and his men-at-arms idle their time, and spend their pay, in Italian quarters, the Moors besiege and cannonade the Spanish possessions in Africa, within sight of the Andalusian coast, whence not a soldier is sent to the assistance of the beleaguered garrisons. A most characteristic sample of "things of Spain." In this country we are blind to the propriety of leaving your own barn to be pulled down, whilst you build up your neighbour's mansion. And, to our matter-of-fact comprehension, it seems dishonest to waste money in a frivolous foreign expedition, when starving creditors are knocking at the door. But we are a shop-keeping people, and it is folly to subject Spanish chivalry to the gauge of such grovelling, mercantile ideas.

Notwithstanding the draft of troops to Italy, the Spanish government has ventured to decree an extensive reduction in the army. In view of the penury of the exchequer, of the total suppression of the Carlist insurrection, and of the small probability of any fresh outbreak in a country worn out as Spain is by civil wars and commotions, they could not, in common decency, avoid some such economical measure. So a third of the army has been formed into a reserve, which means that the officers retain their full pay--with the exception of those who voluntarily exchange from the active army into the reserve, thereby putting themselves on half-pay--and that the sergeants and privates, with the exception of a skeleton staff, return to their homes, and no longer receive pay or rations; but are to hold themselves in readiness, until the regular expiration of their term of service, to join their colours when required. From this measure the government anticipates a great saving, and their partisans hint a million sterling as its probable amount. But it is a peculiarity of Spanish administration that the real economy of a change of this kind can never be ascertained, even approximatively, until it has been for some time in force. By a strange fatality, the most brilliant theoretical retrenchments crumble into dust when reduced to practice. This has been so repeatedly the case in Spain, that we receive such announcements with natural distrust. In this instance, however, it is impossible to doubt that there will be a considerable saving, although far less than would at first sight be expected from the reduction, by nearly one-third, of an army of 120,000 men. The reduction will _de facto_ be confined to the soldiers and non-commissioned officers; for, half-pay in Spain being a wretched pittance, and usually many months in arrear, few officers are likely to avail themselves of the option afforded them. With reference to this subject, we shall quote an extract from a Madrid newspaper, a strenuous opponent of the present government, but whose statistics we have never found otherwise than trustworthy; and which, in this case, would hardly venture to mis-state facts so easy of investigation. "Calculating," says the _Clamor Publico_ of the 30th October 1849, "that the reduction in the active army amounts to 40,000 men, there still remain 80,000, too great a number for a nation which yields no more than 90,000 electors of deputies to the Cortes; besides which there should also be reductions in the staff. In Spain there is a general for every four hundred soldiers--[we believe the _Clamor_ to be mistaken, and the proportions of generals to be even larger than here stated;] and although we do not possess any great magazines of clothing, arms, ammunition and other military stores, our army is yet the dearest of the whole European continent, as is proved by the following statement. [A statement follows of the annual cost of a soldier in the principal Continental services, showing the Spanish soldier to be the most expensive of all.] From all which we infer that the economy decreed is by no means that required by the condition of the treasury, and permitted by our present state of profound peace. The Spanish nation cannot maintain the immense army with which it is burdened. Retain, by all means, the artillery, the engineers, the staff-corps, and the other elements of war which cannot be created at brief notice. Keep up, on full pay, the framework of officers necessary to form, at two months' notice, an army of one hundred thousand men on a war establishment, whenever it may be necessary; but, whilst we are at peace, restore to agriculture and the arts a portion of the men now employed in carrying arms." Under the regency of Espartero, the Spanish army was reduced to 50,000 men, and that when the country was far less tranquil than at present, when a Moderado junta was plotting, at Paris, the downfall of the government, and Christina and Louis Philippe furnished abundant means of corruption. Then such an army was too small; now it might well be deemed ample for a country that at most contains thirteen or fourteen millions of inhabitants, with few fortresses to garrison, few large towns in which to guard against insurrection, and, above all, with a population that would evidently rather submit to misgovernment than plunge again into war. From external foes Spain has nothing to fear; and, even if she had, we are by no means sure that, paradoxical as it may seem, a reduction in her army would not be one of the best means of guarding against them. For retrenchments that would enable her to acquit herself, at least in part, towards her foreign creditors, would assuredly procure her, in the hour of need, friends and allies far more efficient in her defence than her own armies could possibly be. For however prone the Spaniards as a people are to exaggerate their power and means of self-defence, it must surely be patent to the sensible portion of the nation that, in case of aggression from without, they must look for aid to France or England. And although it will doubtless confirm the opinion of Spanish Moderados and French Orleanists as to the invariably mercenary motives of Great Britain, we will not conceal our conviction that the readiness of this country to succour Spain would be much greater if she were paying her debt to English bondholders, than if she were still in her present state of disreputable insolvency. At least we are quite certain that "the pressure from without" would be materially influenced by such a consideration. And this reflection naturally leads us to ask in what position Spain would have found herself, had the projected expedition from the United States against Cuba taken place and succeeded. The danger appears at an end for the present; but it may recur, under the rule of an American president who will not interfere to prevent the piratical enterprise. As to its chances of success, we find some striking facts whereon to base an opinion, in a recently published book on Cuba, the work of an intelligent and practical man, on whose statements and opinions we are disposed to set a high value.[3] From Mr Madden's evidence it is quite plain that the Spanish colonial government is admirably calculated to excite a desire of independence, or, failing that, of annexation to America, in the breasts of the people of the Havana; and what is more, that it has already done so, and that a body of liberators from the States might confidently reckon on being received with open arms by a very considerable fraction of the inhabitants. When the mother country is deplorably misruled, it is not to be expected that the dependencies should be models of good government.

[3] _The Island of Cuba: its Resources, Progress, and Prospects._ By R. R. MADDEN, M.R.I.A. London: 1849.

"In 1812," says Mr Madden, "the constitution being proclaimed
in Spain, the whole people of the colonies were assimilated
to the inhabitants of the mother country, with respect to
representation.... In 1818, the good effects of colonial
representation were manifested in the successful efforts
of Señor Arango with the king, Ferdinand VII., for Cuban
interests. He obtained a royal ordinance from his majesty for
the abolition of restrictions on Cuban commerce. From this
epoch, the prosperity of the island may be dated. Instead
of being a charge to the imperial government, it began to
remit large sums of money yearly to Spain; instead of having
authorities and troops paid by the latter, both were henceforth
paid by Cuba. An army of 25,000 men, sent from Spain in a
miserable plight, was maintained in Cuba, in a few years
entirely equipped and clothed, and disciplined in the best
manner, without costing a real to the Spanish government. From
1830, the treasury of the Havana, in every embarrassment of
the home government, furnished Spain with means, and was, in
fact, a reserved fund for all its pressing emergencies. When
the civil list failed Queen Christina, Cuba furnished the
means of defraying the profuse expenditure of the palace. The
contributions arising from the island formed no small portion,
indeed, of the riches bequeathed by Ferdinand VII. to his
rapacious widow, and to his reputed daughters."

In 1841, the same writer says, Cuba yielded a net revenue to Spain of a million and a quarter sterling, furnished timber and stores largely for the Spanish navy, and entirely supported the Spanish army in Cuba. From the amount here stated, deductions had to be made, or else the revenue has diminished since that date; for Mr Madden subsequently sums up by saying, that "Cuba produces a revenue of from ten to fifteen millions of dollars; of this amount, upwards of three millions (£600,000 sterling) are remitted to Madrid; and these three millions of taxes are paid by a class not exceeding four hundred thousand inhabitants, of free persons of all complexions." A Spanish writer estimates the revenue, in 1839, at eleven millions of dollars;[4] and an English one, who had good opportunities of obtaining information, although he is sometimes rather loose in his statements, declared, six years later, that "Cuba contributes fifty millions of reals, or £500,000 sterling, of clear annual revenue to the Spanish crown."[5] From this concurrent testimony, the sum annually pocketed by the mother country may be estimated at £500,000 to £600,000 sterling; an important item in the receipts of the Madrid government--more so, even, from its liquid and available nature, than from its amount. Moreover the revenues of Cuba, like the mines of Almaden, are a ready resource as security for a loan. But how has Spain requited the services of her richest colony? Of course with gross ingratitude. Strange to say, the equality of rights sanctioned by the despotic Ferdinand was arbitrarily wrenched from Cuba by the liberal government that succeeded him.

[4] MARLIANI, ii. 472.

[5] HUGHES' _Revelations of Spain_, ii. 383.

"The new Spanish constitution shut out the colonists from the
imperial representation. This most unjust, impolitic, and
irritating measure affords a fair specimen of the liberality
and wisdom of Spanish liberalism. It produced a feeling of
hatred against the mother country that never before existed in
Cuba. In 1836-7-8-9, [years passed by Mr Madden in the Havana,]
a general feeling of disaffection pervaded the whole white
Creole community of Cuba. All the intelligence, education,
worth, and influence of the white natives of the island (or
Creoles, as they are there called) was enlisted against the
government and the sovereign of Spain, and an intense desire
for independence excited. The old rapacious policy of Spain was
renewed, of considering every species of Cuban produce as a
commodity of a distant region, that it was legitimate to burden
with oppressive taxes."[6]

[6] _The Island of Cuba_, pp. 55-6.

Now, it appears that by one of those strange absurdities which are of no unfrequent occurrence in Spanish governments, American settlers in Cuba have been, and still are, exempt from a variety of personal contributions and other imposts, which the natives have to pay. The laws of the island forbid the establishment of foreigners in Cuba; and though the settlement of Americans has been connived at, out of respect to the laws the settlers were supposed, by a curious fiction, not to exist. Hence the exemption.

"This immunity," says Mr Madden, (p. 83,) "drew great numbers
of settlers to Cuba, from the Southern States of America; so
that some districts on the northern shores of the island,
in the vicinity, especially, of Cardenas and Matanzas, have
more the character of American than Spanish settlements. The
prosperity of the island has derived no small advantage from
those numerous American establishments. Improved modes of
agriculture, of fabrication, of conveyance, were introduced by
the Americans. Several railways have been made. In the course
of ten years, no less than ten have been carried into effect.
At the opening of the first, from Havana to Guines, in 1837,
I was present. To American enterprise and energy solely, I
have reason to know, this great undertaking was indebted.
The loan for it was made in England; but the projectors,
the share-jobbers, the engineer, and the overseers, were
Americans.... Cuba, ever since I knew it, has been slowly but
steadily becoming Americanised. I pestered my superiors with
my opinions on this subject in 1836-7-8-9. 'Liberavi animam
meam' might be fairly said by me, if the star-spangled banner
were floating to-morrow on the Moro Castle, or flaunting in
the breeze at St Iago de Cuba. In the course of seven years
a feeling, strongly prevalent in the colony, in favour of
independence, has been changed into a desire for connexion with
the United States. It is needless for recent political writers
on Cuba to deny the existence of a strong feeling of animosity
to the mother country, and a longing desire for separation.
From my own intimate knowledge of these facts, I speak of
their existence. If England could have been induced, in 1837,
to guarantee the island of Cuba from the intervention of any
foreign power, the white inhabitants were prepared to throw
off the Spanish yoke. There was then a Spanish army nominally
of twenty thousand men in the island, but the actual number of
native Spaniards in it did not exceed sixteen thousand. The
leading men of the Creoles had then little apprehensions of the
result of an effort for independence. A liberal allotment of
land in the island, for the soldiers who might be disposed to
join the independent party, was a prospect, it was expected,
which would suffice to gain over the army.... It is not to
England, now, that the white natives of Cuba look for aid or
countenance in any future effort for independence. It is to
America that they now turn their eyes; and America takes good
care to respond to the wishes that are secretly expressed in
those regards."

These are the opinions of a man several years resident in Cuba, evidently a shrewd observer, and who can hardly be suspected of misrepresentation on this head; and we do not hesitate to place confidence in them in preference to the rose-tinted accounts of the Madrid _Heraldo_, and other official prints, according to which the present happiness, prosperity, and loyalty of the Havaneros are such as were never surpassed in the annals of colonies. Mr Madden, we have seen, is of opinion that the Creoles and resident Americans, if guaranteed from foreign intervention, are of themselves a match for Spain, and could throw off her yoke and defy her efforts to reimpose it. What, then, would be the state of affairs, if three or four thousand Yankee volunteers, who, by themselves, we suspect, could give occupation to all the disposable part of the sixteen thousand Spaniards in garrison, were suddenly to drop upon the Cuban shore, by preconcerted arrangement with the disaffected? In 1849 this has been within an ace of occurring; in a future year, not very remote, it may actually occur. What would Spain do, when news were brought her that the red-and-yellow banner was replaced by the speckled bunting of the States? Would she declare war against America, on the strength of the war-steamers she has been lately building with her creditors' money? Brother Jonathan, we suspect, would mightily chuckle at the notion, and immediately seize Puerto Rico, and perhaps make a dash at the Philippines. But the Spanish government, loud as they can bluster when sure of impunity, would hardly render themselves so ridiculous. No; in the hour of their distress they would piteously look abroad for succour, and turn their discomfited countenance to the old ally to whom, in their brief day of seeming prosperity, they forgot their numerous obligations. It is our belief their appeal would not be made in vain. But although this country, being great and powerful, could afford to forget its cause of complaint--as a man overlooks the petulance of a froward child--it would be right and fitting that an _amende honorable_ should previously be exacted from Spain, and that humiliation should be inflicted on her arrogant government, for an insult which, let them mis-state the circumstances as they like, was far from justified by the alleged provocation. And moreover, before a move was made, or a note transmitted by the British government on behalf of Spain-robbed-of-its-Cuba, a solid guarantee should unquestionably be exacted for an equitable and speedy adjustment of the claims of the ill-used holders of Spanish bonds.

These gentlemen, roused at last by a long series of neglect and broken promises to depart from the _suaviter in modo_, and to substitute an energetic remonstrance for the honeyed and complimentary epistles they have been wont to address to the president of the Spanish council, are raising a fund to be employed in the advocacy of their claims by an agent in Madrid. Although the gradual progress of the subscription does not bespeak the fund-holders very sanguine in their hopes, they may rest assured that this is a step in the right direction. Their only hope is in agitation--in keeping their just and shamefully-neglected claims before the world, and in such a conjunction of circumstances as may enable the cabinet of St James's to put on the screw, and compel the Spanish government to be honest. As to an appeal to arms, however, it might be justified in equity, and by references to Vatel and other great authorities, it would hardly be consonant with prudence, or with the spirit of the times: but other means may be devised; and in the event of a European war, we can imagine more than one circumstance in which, as in the case of the seizure of Cuba by America, Spain would be too happy to subscribe to the just conditions this country might impose for the settlement of English claims. But there is danger in delay; and if we are unwilling to believe that Spain is, in the words of one who knows her well, "irremediably insolvent,"[7] there is no doubt she must speedily become so, unless some radical change takes place in the views and system of her rulers. What she needs is an honest government, composed of men who will make their own advantage subservient to their country's weal. "My firm conviction," says Marliani, "is, that when the day comes that men of heart and head shall seize, with a firm grasp, the rudder of this vessel now abandoned to the uncertain movement of the political waves, they will take her into port. Spain is in the best possible position to make a giant's stride in the path of prosperity. She offers to the foreigner a thousand honourable and profitable speculations; the application of capital to public works, to agriculture, to mines, will be an inexhaustible source of profit."[8] When M. Marliani wrote this, capitalists were more prone to embark their money in distant speculations than at the present day. But still the principle holds good; and there can be no question in the minds of any who have studied Spain, that an honest and moderately able government is all that is wanted to develop her vast resources, and enable her to come to an honourable compromise with her creditors, who, there can be little doubt, would show themselves accommodating, if they saw evidence of a desire to pay, and had some certainty that, when they had accepted an arrangement advantageous to Spain, it would not be broken in a few months, leaving them in worse plight than before. How this has been repeatedly done was lately clearly exhibited in a letter addressed by a Spanish bondholder to the _Times_, of which we here quote a portion:--

[7] FORD'S _Gatherings from Spain_.

[8] _Histoire Politique de l'Espagne Moderne_, ii. 424.

"Between 1820 and 1831, Spain contracted loans as follows,
[details given], to the amount of 157,244,210 dollars. And
on no portion of these loans does Spain now pay interest. In
1834 there was owing, in interest upon those loans, 49,541,352
dollars; and the Spanish government then offered, at the
meeting of bondholders, held at the City of London Tavern,
to give for all those loans, and the interest upon them, new
stock, on the following terms:--A new active five per cent
stock, upon which the interest should be always punctually
paid, for two-thirds of the capital; a new passive stock for
the remaining third; and a deferred stock for the overdue
interest, on condition that they had a new loan of £4,000,000
sterling. These terms were agreed to, and the conversion
took place; and there were issued in exchange for the old
loans and overdue interest, £33,322,890 five per cent active
stock; £12,696,450 passive stock; and £13,215,672 deferred
stock. These are the stocks now in the market, in addition
to the £4,000,000 loan then granted. In two years after this
transaction, the Spanish government stopped payment again, and
left the bondholders in the same situation, with one-third of
their capital cancelled, or made passive stock, which bears no
coupons, and is, consequently, not entitled to claim interest.
In 1841, the Spanish government paid the active bondholders
four years' interest; _i. e._, from 1836 to 1940, in a three
per cent stock, instead of cash, and which produced the holders
about four shillings in the pound; (this is the three per cent
stock now in the English market, on which the interest is
paid.)"[9]

[9] City article of the _Times_, September 14, 1849.