Spanish Life in Town and Country Part 11

One great characteristic is the intense love of children which is exhibited by all cla.s.ses, and there is no surer way to the good will of a native than a kindness, however slight, to a child in whom he or she is interested. As is natural under such circ.u.mstances, the children are shockingly indulged and spoilt, with all the resultant unpleasant and evil consequences. Cats, also, are great favourites with the Portuguese, and the thousands of shabby animals of Lisbon and Oporto show no sign of fear if a stranger stops to stroke them. They are accustomed to kind treatment, and look upon all human beings as friends.

As a rule, a rather large number of servants are employed. They are poorly paid, and in many households indifferently fed and housed. Often they are dirty, lazy, dishonest s.l.u.ts. They chatter shrilly with the master or mistress, answer and argue when told of any shortcoming, and are always ready to go off at a moment's notice. But they are often capable of devoted service, and of a sincere desire to be obliging, and may always be counted on to exhibit the utmost kindness to the children of the house. Their written references, as a rule, are frauds. If you ask for the _boas referencias_ (good references), so often mentioned in the advertis.e.m.e.nts of _criadas_ (female servants), you will probably find that, even if genuine, they are antiquated, and that they leave many gaps between the various periods of service which can only be filled up by conjecture. _Criadas_ are not, as a rule, of immaculate virtue, and give some trouble by their desire to go to _festas_ and to servants' b.a.l.l.s. The male servants are, as a rule, better than the _criadas_. Servants are somewhat roughly treated, and are ordered about as if they were dogs. It is always said that they do not understand or appreciate milder or more civil treatment, and are inclined to despise a master or mistress who uses the Portuguese equivalent to "please," or who acknowledges a service with thanks. I am inclined to doubt this, both from my personal observation and from a casual remark made to me by the landlady of a hotel at Cintra, that her waiters and servants much preferred English to native visitors, because of the greater politeness and consideration shown to them by the former. Of course, as in all other countries, servants are described as one of the greatest plagues in life; but this must be taken for what it is worth. And what would the ladies do without such a subject to grumble about?

Portugal is a poor country, despite its natural resources. The wealthy people are few, and consist mainly of returned Brazilians. It cannot be said, either, that the cla.s.ses in the enjoyment of a competence const.i.tute a fair average of the community. But the poor are very abundant. Wages are terribly low, even a foreman in an engineering shop getting only a milrei a day, averaging _3s. 2d._ in English money. On the other hand, it must be remembered that in such a climate the "living wage" is necessarily lower than in England. Many necessities in England are superfluities or even inconveniences under sunnier skies. The people, too, are very frugal, and even in towns, though rents be high, all other necessaries are moderate in price. The standard of life is not high, and the people are contented with a style of living which would be indignantly rejected by English labourers.

The artisans are not good workmen, but plod on fairly well, and, with the exception of _festas_, require few holidays. They prefer to work on Sundays, and grumble at their English employers, who generally split the difference, by closing their shops for half a day. They look upon this as a grievance, however much they may be a.s.sured that it makes no difference in their wages.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A COUNTRY CABIN IN GALICIA]

A very hard-working cla.s.s of men are the Gallegos, the natives of Galicia, who are nearly as numerous in Lisbon as they were when Napier wrote, and where, then as now, they act as porters, messengers, scavengers, and water-carriers, and are found in all sorts of lowly and laborious occupations. As porters and messengers, they have an excellent reputation for honesty, and for being most civil and obliging.

Gallenga, a fairly shrewd observer, considers that the employment of these Spaniards has deplorable effects on the character of the Portuguese nation. I cannot go all the way with him in the gloomy view he takes of it, but it must be conceded that the existence of such a body of aliens (estimated at twelve thousand in Lisbon alone) working hard and well at occupations which the Portuguese will not do at all, or, if they attempt them, will do indifferently; herding together some ten or twelve in a small room, living on maize bread and a clove of garlic washed down with water; accepting thankfully a very attenuated hire, and yet contriving to send substantial savings back to Galicia,--must considerably affect the labour market and tend to keep wages low. They also close certain forms of labour to the native worker, and cause these industries to be looked on with contempt.

In towns like Lisbon and Oporto a great number of persons are employed in the fish trade. The fish-girls, with their distinctive costumes, their bare feet, and the graceful poise of the heavy basket of fish on their heads, are a very characteristic feature of both towns. The costumes differ in the two cities, mainly in the head-gear, but they are both picturesque and dirty, and emit the same "ancient and fish-like smell." The men, too, with their bare legs and feet, balancing a long pole on the shoulder, with a basket of fish at each end, will cover a marvellous amount of ground in a day at the curious trotting pace which they affect. Miles inland these men will carry their finny wares, stopping at the public water-supplies to moisten the cloth which protects the fish from the sun and dust. These may or may not be fresh when the day's work is nearly done, but housewives purchasing a supply in the afternoon had better keep a very sharp look-out.

Fish plays an important part in the domestic economy of dwellers within a reasonable distance of the sea, and forms a considerable item in the food-stuffs of the working cla.s.ses. It is fairly cheap, and is cooked so as to get the full value of it. More important than the fresh fish is the salted cod (_bacalhao_). This, which Napier described as "the ordinary food of the Portuguese," is the backbone of the worker's _menu_. It is not fragrant, nor is it inviting in aspect in its raw state, but it is said to be highly nutritive, and it can certainly be cooked in ways which make it appetising. The midday meal, which the wife brings to her husband at his work, and shares with him as they sit in the shade, is often composed of a _caldo_ (soup) made of _bacalhao_, or of all sorts of oddments, thickened with beans and flavoured with garlic, accompanied by a bit of rye-bread or of _broa_, the bread made from maize. These soups and breads, accompanied by salads, onions, tomatoes, and other vegetables, washed down with draughts of a light red table-wine of little alcoholic strength, form the not unwholesome average diet of the worker with his hands. If he wants to get drunk, he can do so, with some difficulty, by imbibing sufficient wine, but the easiest method is to drink the fearful crude spirit _aguardente_. If he survives, he gets horribly, brutally drunk, and possibly does some mischief before he recovers. But it is only fair to say that he but rarely gets drunk, and that when he is thirsty he quenches his thirst with water, with a harmless decoction of herbs or lemonade, or with the almost innocuous wine. This sobriety is not the result of any temperance legislation or restrictions. No license is required for opening a shop for the sale of liquor. Only revenue dues and _octroi_ duties have to be paid, and, of course, there is a liability to police supervision, which provides the police with a means of increasing their very inadequate pay by bribes or blackmail.

The amus.e.m.e.nts of the workman in the town are few enough, and mostly of a domestic character. He sits on his doorstep, or on a bench in the nearest gardens. He smokes the eternal cigarette, gossips with his neighbours, plays with his children, and pets the cat. His only real playtimes are the _festas_, when for some hours he indulges in revelry--if, indeed, it be worthy of such a t.i.tle. He reads the newspaper but little,--if he can read at all,--which is, perhaps, a good thing for him, and he is generally a Republican. This Republicanism is mostly academic, but the "red" type is not wanting, and a fiery spirit might be roused at any time, with consequences that cannot be foreseen. Of course, the younger men tinkle the guitar, and make love more or less openly to the girls. When age overtakes a man or misfortune overpowers him, there is no poor law to take him in charge, but there are extensive and well-organised charities in every centre which are eager and willing to a.s.sist those who are temporarily afflicted, and to afford sustenance--a bare sustenance, perhaps--to those who are permanently disabled.

The amus.e.m.e.nts of the town--the theatre, the concert, and the opera--do not affect the workman much; his budget does not allow of such indulgence, except on the occasion of a free performance. Though they are fairly musical and love the theatre, the Portuguese have no really aesthetic side to their character. There is a queer song and dance, topical and rather broad, the _chula_, the somewhat monotonous refrain of which is to be heard everywhere and at all hours, and from all manners of lips. The washerwomen kneeling by the brook bang the unfortunate clothes on the flat stones in rhythm with the tune, and beguile the time with the interminable song. It arises in unexpected places, and is a fairly sure item in the gathering of the younger folk, both in towns and villages, in the cool of the evening. Concerts and theatres are fairly patronised by the more moneyed cla.s.ses, but the performances are not, as a rule, of a very high calibre. There is a subsidised theatre at Lisbon, but it does little to elevate the dramatic art elsewhere.

CHAPTER XIX

PORTUGUESE INSt.i.tUTIONS

The Portuguese army is raised by conscription, each parish, according to size, having to contribute an annual quota of young men between twenty and twenty-one years of age. These have to serve three consecutive years with the colours, and then pa.s.s into the reserve for another ten years.

During the latter period no conscript can leave the country without a pa.s.sport. In time of peace the army is supposed to number about thirty thousand men, and on the war footing should consist of about one hundred and twenty thousand men and two hundred and sixty-four guns. The men, who in summer wear brown holland clothes, look hardy enough, and, according to ordinary report, are worthy of the plucky _cacadores_ of the Peninsular War, who, according to Napier, made most excellent soldiers when properly led. It is still said of the Portuguese soldier that with three beans in his pocket he can march and fight for a week without making any further demands upon the commissariat department.

This military service does not affect the nation much, either morally or physically, and the only economical effect is probably that it provides a fruitful source of plunder to corrupt officials. As any man can free himself of the three years' service with the colours by paying a sum of about 24, it may be imagined what an opening this affords for special peculation.

The navy consists of about five thousand men, and of a few modern war-s.h.i.+ps, and of some old boats whose seaworthiness is questionable.

The best s.h.i.+p at present on the list is the cruiser _Dom Carlos_, which was sent to take part in the naval pageant which formed the first portion of the funeral of Queen Victoria. The sailors, who are much to be seen in Lisbon, where the great naval barracks are situated, look smart enough, and as the Portuguese have always been good sailors, it may safely be predicted that, in case of necessity, they will make the most of the limited means at their disposal, or of such of them as have not been utterly ruined by official indifference or worse.

In the towns one meets men in various employments, such as the police, who have served in the army, and still retain some sort of soldierly appearance, but once get into the country, and it is vain to look for any evidence of military service amongst the rural population.

The country-folk are a patient lot; most of them ruminants, like their own oxen. Sleepy always, and slow in their movements, they are often devoted to the farm, or _quinta_, on which they work, and are, perhaps, slightly more honest than their fellows in the towns. They are frugal enough, and enjoy their huge junks of dark bread, washed down with water, at their midday meal, and a sound sleep under the shade of an orange tree or a eucalyptus, or a bit of a wall, until it is necessary to begin work again. The peasant costumes are not inviting; they are simply squalid. Costumes in the towns are much better. Still, on festal days the village women deck themselves out with bright-hued shawls, and the men wind brighter scarfs round their waists to keep up their patchwork trousers, and thus relieve what would otherwise be the intolerable dinginess of the whole scene. The farmer himself, mounted on his mule, with high-peaked saddle and enormous wooden stirrups decorated with bra.s.s, his cloak, with the bright scarlet or blue lining folded outwards, strapped on in front, with his short jacket and broad-brimmed hat, offers a smart and typical figure.

In town or country, the beautiful oxen are worthy of admiration. They are the most satisfactory of all the rural animals. Horses, shabby and attenuated, little sheep of a colour from black to dirty grey, showing affinity to goats, and having neither the grace of the latter nor the sleepy comeliness of our own sheep, black and white cows whose points would not be much thought of by judges at an agricultural show, goats of all sorts of breeds, and finally pigs of a most lanky and uninviting appearance, form the stock of the farms. Heaps of chickens of all sorts run about everywhere, and enjoy fine dust-baths by the side of the road.

The aspect of the country varies much between north and south. In the former, one sees real gra.s.s and hedges, and the bright flowers that are common everywhere look all the better for their green background. The commonest hedge in the south, and occasionally in the north, is made of a few layers of stones loosely laid together with a row of aloe plants on the top. These grow formidable in time, with huge sharp-pointed leaves, and they present a curious appearance when at intervals in such a row plants send up their huge flowering stems from nine to twelve feet high, looking at a little distance like telegraph poles.

Despite the squalid clothes of the peasants, there are many picturesque aspects of rural life. The driving of large herds of cattle by mounted men, armed with long goads, is an interesting as well as an artistic sight, and the same may be said of the primitive agricultural occupations. The crops are harvested with a sickle, and you may wake up some morning to see the field opposite your house invaded by some twenty to thirty reapers, men and women, boys and girls, patiently sawing their way through the wheat or barley, or whatever it is. The corn is threshed out with the flail, or trodden out by the oxen--all operations fair to look upon. Forms of cultivation interesting to watch are the very primitive ploughing, the hoeing of the maize, and all those connected with the culture of the vines and the orange and other fruit trees, and especially the irrigation, which is so important to these latter. In fact, one of the most charming of rural sights is the old water-wheel, groaning and creaking as it is turned by the patient ox or mule or pony, splas.h.i.+ng the cool water from the well out of its earthen pots--each with a hole in the bottom--and discharging it into the trough leading to the irrigation channels or to the reservoir from which the water may afterwards be let off in the required direction.

But agriculture is not always so backward and primitive. There are great landowners and large farmers who use the newest and best agricultural implements. The Government does what it can to encourage the use of artificial manures, and there are societies which render important services to agriculturists and to fruit-growers. Amid such labours live the quiet country-folk. They have no thought of anything; they have no special amus.e.m.e.nts beyond an occasional _festa_ and a dance. They sit round the village well in the evening, and when not talking scandal, tell stories about--"Once upon a time there was a poor widow with one or more daughters," or "There was once a king's son"--often a Moorish king. The old well-known tales reappear, modified to the Portuguese character and morality.

The following is a story taken from Braga's excellent book: "There was, once upon a time, a poor widow that had only one daughter. This girl, going out to bathe in the river with her companions on St. John's eve, at the advice of one of her friends, placed her ear-rings on the top of a stone, lest she should lose them in the water. While she was playing about in the river an old man pa.s.sed along, who, seeing the ear-rings, took them and placed them in a leather bag he was carrying. The poor child was much grieved at this, and ran after the old man, who consented to restore her belongings if she would search for them inside his sack.

This the girl did, and forthwith the artful old man closed the mouth of the bag and carried her off therein. He subsequently told her that she must help him to gain a living, and that whenever he recited--

'Sing, sack, Else thou wilt be beaten with a stick!'

she was to sing l.u.s.tily. Wherever they came he placed his sack on the ground, and addressed the above formula to it, when the poor girl sang as loud as she could:

'I am placed in this sack, Where my life I shall lose, For love of my ear-rings, Which I left in the stream.'

The old man obtained much money from the audiences attracted by his singing leather bag. The authorities of one town, however, became suspicious, and, examining the sack while its owner was asleep, found and released the child. They filled up the bag with all the filth they could pick up, and left it where they had found it. The little girl was sent back to her mother. When the old man woke next morning, and took out the sack to earn his breakfast, the usual incantation had no effect, and when he applied the threatened stick the bag burst, and all the filth came out, which he was compelled to lick up by the enraged populace." At the close of the story the cigarettes glow, the white teeth gleam, the bushy whiskers wag, the old women chuckle, the girls giggle, and the youths sn.i.g.g.e.r, and as the short twilight is now over, the group breaks up, and each vanishes into his or her own vermin-pasture to sleep until _amanh_ has actually become to-day, and the sun s.h.i.+nes on another exact repet.i.tion of yesterday.

The Portuguese are superst.i.tious, and are devout up to a certain point, and the clerics are exceedingly intolerant. In the morning one sees, as in all Roman Catholic countries, devout wors.h.i.+ppers kneeling about in the churches before their favourite shrines, but, unlike the practice of most Roman Catholic countries, the churches are closed at or about noon for the most part, and are only open for special ma.s.ses after that time.

The procession of the Host is greeted with most extreme reverence, and whether it be in the fas.h.i.+onable Chiado at Lisbon or along a country lane, all uncover and make the sign of the cross, and many, even fas.h.i.+onably dressed ladies and gentlemen, kneel down and bow themselves humbly as the sacred wafer pa.s.ses by, borne by the gorgeously vested priest; at least, in the cities the vestments are gorgeous, and a long train of acolytes and attendants makes the procession imposing, but in the country the vestments are often mildewed and decayed, and the one or two rustic attendants are not dignified in appearance. Still, the sacred symbol is the same, and the reverence and the devotion are the same.

There is an excessive hierarchy for the size of the country, there being in Portugal proper three ecclesiastical provinces, ruled respectively by the Patriarch of Lisbon and by the Archbishops of Braga and Evora.

Besides these, there is the colonial province which is ruled by the Archbishop of Goa, Archpriests and other dignitaries abound, so that a priest has something to look forward to in the way of promotion; and yet, as a rule, the priests perform their duties without zeal and in a slovenly manner. One often hears it said that their behaviour and their morality leave much to be desired. There are among them gentlemen of blameless life and even of ascetic practices, but it is commonly reported that, as a whole, they are of inferior birth and education. It is not easy for a stranger to form any opinion on these points, but it must be conceded that their appearance is generally suggestive of the truth of the statement, and it may be admitted that there is an undue proportion of ign.o.ble and sensuous faces amongst them.

Funerals are occasions of great pomp, and are often picturesque enough, while the ma.s.ses for the dead at intervals after and on the anniversary are, no doubt, profitable to the Church. By attending these one has a good opportunity of testifying to the esteem in which the deceased was held, or to one's good will towards the family or representatives. These ma.s.ses are generally advertised in the papers, with thanks to those friends who have attended funeral ma.s.ses. As there is scarcely any intellectual activity in Portugal, there is practically no religious thought. A dull acquiescence in the dictates of the Church may be crossed by an occasional gleam of rebellion against sacerdotalism, roused by some temporary stirring up of the hatred felt against the Jesuits. But it in no way alters the habitual att.i.tude of the people towards religion and its outward manifestations. One thing is certain, and that is that in town or country a man or a woman must be in the lowest depths of poverty and distress to refuse to throw a few _reis_ into the bags of the licensed mendicants who, bareheaded, and clad in scarlet or white gowns, go round soliciting alms for the support of the churches on whose behalf they are sent out.

As is customary in most countries, the women are more amenable to religious influences than the men, and are more under the dominion of the priest. This is not likely to be altered yet awhile, for, under the present system of education and bringing up, the female portion of the community is not only not intellectual, but may even be described as being unintelligent. They are slovenly, and cannot be described as good housewives. They are pleasure-loving and garrulous, though this latter trait is not, I suppose, a specially national characteristic. They do much hard work, especially in the fields. In the cla.s.ses above (if _above_ be the proper word) the hand-workers, the young girls are still kept very strictly, and are not allowed to go out alone. Their knowledge of life is limited to the view from the windows of their homes, where they may be seen looking out on the street scenes below whenever the shade allows them to stand at the window or on the balcony. No "new woman" movement of any importance has yet taken place, and though there are modifications in woman's position in the national life, it is probable that it will take one if not more generations before women in Portugal achieve the emanc.i.p.ation which their sisters have attained in more progressive countries.

In one circ.u.mstance, however, woman does take her place by the side of man, and that is in the bull-ring--not, indeed, in the arena, but in every part of the amphitheatre, from the worst seats on the sunny side to the costly boxes in the shade. She takes as great an interest in the bull-fight as the man, and if she does not shout and swear, or fling her hat into the ring in her enthusiasm, she delights probably more than the man in the beauty of the spectacle, and appreciates almost as fully the feats of skill and daring which give such special attraction to the national pastime. This is a right royal sport, and as in Portugal the horrid cruelty which defaces it in Spain is absent, there is no overwhelming reason why the women should not sit and applaud the picturesque scene and the exhibitions of pluck and agility shown by the performers.

The scene is really magnificent, and the enthusiasm of the audience must be witnessed in order to understand the underlying potentialities of the Portuguese character. The vile abuse of a bull who will not show fight is comical to listen to. Probably, in such a case, the bull has been through it all before, and he does not care to make wild rushes at cloaks which have nothing substantial behind them. So he paws up the sand and looks theatrical, but refuses to budge. Then a nimble _bandarilhero_ faces him, and fixes a pair of _bandarilhas_ in his neck--one on each side if he can manage it. This is unpleasant, no doubt, but the bull's former experience tells him that it is not serious, and not even very painful. It was irritating the first time, but no well-bred bull should condescend to be upset by such a trifle.

Another pair of _bandarilhas_, and yet another, are fixed into his shoulders by their barbed points--or the attempt is made to fix them.

Then the bull begins to play the game in a condescending sort of way.

Then the great man, the _espada_ himself, comes on the scene, and arranges and waves his scarlet flag, and walks up to the obstinate animal, perhaps flicks him in the nostrils with his pocket-handkerchief and calls him _vacca_ (cow)! At last, seemingly out of good nature, the bull rushes at the red flag, has the highly decorated dart stuck between his shoulders, by the daring _espada_ who may perform some other feat, listens to the applause, and laughs to himself when he hears the bugle-call and sees the trained oxen rush in with their long bells and their attendant herdsmen, and with more or less of a frolicsome air he trots out of the arena in their company and, having had his sore shoulders attended to, and having had a good feed, chews the cud with a pleasant reminiscence of the afternoon's work. It is a mistake not to kill the bull, which is not cruel in itself, but which would prevent some rather tiresome interludes when a knowing old bull refuses to be coaxed into playing his part of the game.

Far different, however, is the scene when a really spirited bull comes in with a rush and charges wildly at the brightly attired performers, and makes them skip over the barrier, often leaving their cloaks behind them. Sometimes the bull skips over too, and then there is a most amusing scene, as performers, attendants, and all vault back over the barrier into the ring itself. When the _espada_ finally performs his courageous feat under such conditions, he obtains such an ovation as his skill deserves. Hats of all sorts and shapes are cast to him in the arena, which he has to pick up and throw or hand back to the admirers who testify their satisfaction in this curious manner. Cigars, also, are thrown at the successful bull-fighter's feet, and these he keeps. The most famous _espadas_ are all Spaniards, and they all wear the traditional dress of their calling. If, on the one hand, there is not the thrill of the actual killing of the bull, on the other there are no miserable old horses to be ripped up, and no smell of blood. Next to the actual bull-fights come the selections of the young bulls from the herds, when the members of the Tauromachian Societies exhibit their skill, and where many a gay young fellow gets much knocked about in exhibiting his agility or the want of it.

Other sports cannot be said to have any marked existence. Dancing is a national amus.e.m.e.nt, and a few of the Anglicised Portuguese go in for cricket and lawn-tennis. Cycling, though not unknown, is far from common, the roads being, as a rule, much too bad for comfortable or even for safe riding.

Local and provincial government leaves much to be desired in Portugal.

The keeping up of the roads is inconceivably bad. A royal road (_estrada real_) is generally the worst of all, and, with such an example before them, it is not to be wondered at that local authorities neglect their duties in this matter.

"No capital city in Europe suffers so much as Lisbon from the want of good police regulations." This quotation from Napier might very well be written to-day, and extended to include all Portuguese towns. Perhaps it is fair to say that it is not so much the regulations that are at fault as the incompetence and indifference of each local authority, which irresistibly suggest that corruption alone can account for such a ma.s.s of evil. The administrative machine is elaborate, and ought to be more effective. First, there is the district, ruled by the Civil Governor, an officer somewhat resembling a French prefect, with its corporate body known as the District Commission. There are seventeen districts, which are subdivided into two hundred and sixty-two communes. The head of a commune is the Administrator, and the corporation is known as the Munic.i.p.al Chamber. The last subdivision is that of the communes into parishes, of which there are three thousand seven hundred and thirty-five. Each of these has as its head an officer called a _regedor_, and occupies the attention of a _junta de parochia_, or parish council.

The scavenging, sanitation, watering, paving, and all the other works which fall within the sphere of the munic.i.p.ality or local authority are defective and neglected. The one bright point, both in Oporto and Lisbon, is the care, skill, and attention with which the public gardens and squares are tended. The palms, tree-ferns, cacti, and other semi-tropical and sub-tropical plants are beautiful in themselves, and are arranged and intermingled with other trees and shrubs in a most artistic manner. The gra.s.s (upon which no one, of course, may walk) is kept green by constant watering, and affords a delightful contrast to the generally dry and dusty aspect of the city. Another organisation which is generally efficient and well conducted is that of the fire brigades. The munic.i.p.al firemen--the _bombeiros_--are often stimulated by a healthy rivalry with the volunteer brigades, which are numerous, well found, and, as a rule, well managed. The latter are often centres of good charitable work outside their actual fire service, and they are valuable as offering a fair and worthy opportunity for the display of sound public spirit and good feeling.

Though Portuguese laws are, as a rule, admirable in themselves, the administration thereof is bad in the extreme, and the judiciary have a reputation for turpitude remarkable even amongst the recognised corruption of all officials. In Portugal proper there are two judicial districts--that of Lisbon and that of Oporto. Each has a high court known as a _Relaco_, and there are inferior courts of various styles and t.i.tles. Above all is the Supreme Tribunal of Justice at Lisbon, which is the final court of appeal, and the reputation of which is somewhat better than that of any other tribunal. The administration of criminal justice is naturally amongst the worst. According to common repute, the only consideration with the judges is how they are to get the costs paid--whether they are more likely to obtain them through an acquittal, which throws them on the prosecutor, or by a conviction.

Also, it is generally said that the police themselves are recruited from amongst the very lowest cla.s.ses.

The prisons are described as being something awful, only to be equalled in Morocco and savage countries. In the market-place of beautiful Cintra stands the prison, against the barred windows of which crowd the prisoners, begging for money, cigarettes, and food, which are supplied to them through the prison bars by their friends and sympathisers, and by soft-hearted people. Those who are incarcerated in the upper story have baskets, which they lower by means of strings, so that they may be supplied in the same manner. This seems to have amused Miss Leck (_Iberian Sketches_, Chap. VI.), but it a.s.sumes a much more serious aspect when one considers that in those filthy dens all the prisoners are huddled together--old men and boys, the murderer and the petty thief, habitual criminals and unfortunate persons taken into custody on mere suspicion, or charged with an alleged breach of some police or even railway regulation; for it must be remembered that a station-master has nearly the same power as a policeman in taking a person into custody. "No one shall be put in prison," says the Portuguese code, "except under special circ.u.mstances"; but when the exceptions are considered, they are found to cover nearly every abuse of authority on the part of the pettiest official which can be conceived. Hence, all persons are obliged to submit to gross injustice and to a certain amount of blackmail if they wish to avoid the noisome experiences of a Portuguese gaol.

The Portuguese must be undoubtedly "of a docile and orderly disposition," as Napier says, or the crying injustices to which they submit with such patience would lead them to revolt; and if this were to happen, who could attempt to predict what excesses would be left uncommitted by a violent southron mob whose pa.s.sions had been roused to such a pitch of activity? Perhaps _paciencia_ and _amanh_ have their utility, and enable the people to bear the ills they have. They can even joke and caricature themselves, and though the comic journals are neither brilliant nor artistic, they show, at least, that a sense of humour is still left in our Lusitanian friends.

THE END