Gatherings From Spain

1

The word Gabacho, which is the most offensive vituperative of the Spaniard against the Frenchman, and has by some been thought to mean “those who dwell on Gaves,” is the Arabic Cabach, detestable, filthy, or “qui prava indole est, moribusque.” In fact the real meaning cannot be further alluded to beyond referring to the clever tale of El Frances y Español by Quevedo. The antipathy to the Gaul is natural and national, and dates far beyond history. This nickname was first given in the eighth century, when Charlemagne, the Buonaparte of his day, invaded Spain, on the abdication and cession of the crown by the chaste Alonso, the prototype of the wittol Charles IV.; then the Spanish Moors and Christians, foes and friends, forgot their hatreds of creeds in the greater loathing for the abhorred intruder, whose “peerage fell” in the memorable passes of Roncesvalles. The true derivation of the word Gabacho, which now resounds from these Pyrenees to the Straits, is blinked in the royal academical dictionary, such was the servile adulation of the members to their French patron Philip V. Mueran los Gabachos, “Death to the miscreants,” was the rally cry of Spain after the inhuman butcheries of the terrorist Murat; nor have the echoes died away; a spark may kindle the prepared mine: of what an unspeakable value is a national war-cry which at once gives to a whole people a shibboleth, a rallying watch-word to a common cause! Vox populi vox Dei.

2

Razzia is derived from the Arabic Al ghazia, a word which expresses these raids of a ferocious, barbarous age. It has been introduced to European dictionaries by the Pelissiers, who thus civilize Algeria. They make a solitude, and call it peace.

3

Faja; the Hhezum of Cairo. Atrides tightens his sash when preparing for action – Iliad xi. 15. The Roman soldiers kept their money in it. Ibit qui zonam perdidit. – Hor. ii. Ep. 2. 40. The Jews used it for the same purpose – Matthew x. 9; Mark vi. 8. It is loosened at night. “None shall slumber or sleep, neither shall the girdle of their loins be loosed.” – Isaiah v. 27.

4

The dread of the fascination of the evil eye, from which Solomon was not exempt (Proverbs xxiii. 6), prevails all over the East; it has not been extirpated from Spain or from Naples, which so long belonged to Spain. The lower classes in the Peninsula hang round the necks of their children and cattle a horn tipped with silver; this is sold as an amulet in the silver-smiths’ shops; the cord by which it is attached ought to be braided from a black mare’s tail. The Spanish gipsies, of whom Borrow has given us so complete an account, thrive by disarming the mal de ojo, “querelar nasula,” as they term it. The dread of the “Ain ara” exists among all classes of the Moors. The better classes of Spaniards make a joke of it; and often, when you remark that a person has put on or wears something strange about him, the answer is, “Es para que no me hagan mal de ojo.” Naples is the head-quarters for charms and coral amulets: all the learning has been collected by the Canon Jorio and the Marques Arditi.

5

The garañon is also called “burro padre” ass father, not “padre burro.” “Padre,” the prefix of paternity, is the common title given in Spain to the clergy and the monks. “Father jackass” might in many instances, when applied to the latter, be too morally and physically appropriate, to be consistent with the respect due to the celibate cowl and cassock.

6

When George IV. once complained that he had lost his royal appetite, “What a scrape, sir, a poor man would be in if he found it!” said his Rochester companion.

7

The very word Novelty has become in common parlance synonymous with danger, change, by the fear of which all Spaniards are perplexed; as in religion it is a heresy. Bitter experience has taught all classes that every change, every promise of a new era of blessing and prosperity has ended in a failure, and that matters have got worse: hence they not only bear the evils to which they are accustomed, rather than try a speculative amelioration, but actually prefer a bad state of things, of which they know the worst, to the possibility of an untried good. Mas vale el mal conocido, que el bien por conocer. “How is my lady the wife of your grace?” says a Spanish gentleman to his friend. “Como está mi Señora la Esposa de Usted?” “She goes on without Novelty” – “Sigue sin Novedad,” is the reply, if the fair one be much the same. “Vaya Usted con Dios, y que no haya Novedad!” “Go with God, your grace! and may nothing new happen,” says another, on starting his friend off on a journey.

8

Forks are an Italian invention: old Coryate, who introduced this “neatnesse” into Somersetshire, about 1600, was called furcifer by his friends. Alexander Barclay thus describes the previous English mode of eating, which sounds very ventaish, although worse mannered: —

“If the dishe be pleasaunt, eyther flesche or fische,Ten hands at once swarm in the dishe.”

9

The kings of Spain seldom use any other royal signature, except the ancient Gothic rubrica, or mark. This monogram is something like a Runic knot. Spaniards exercise much ingenuity in these intricate flourishes, which they tack on to their names, as a collateral security of authenticity. It is said that a rubrica without a name is of more value than a name without a rubrica. Sancho Panza tells Don Quixote that his rubrica alone is worth, not one, but three hundred jackasses. Those who cannot write rubricate; “No saber firmar,” – not to know how to sign one’s name, – is jokingly held in Spain to be one of the attributes of grandeeship.

10

“Chacun fuit à le voir naître, chacun court à le voir mourir!” —Montaigne.

11

Hallarse en Cinta is the Spanish equivalent for our “being in the family way."

12

Recopilacion. Lib. iii. Tit. xvi. Ley 3.

13

The love for killing oxen still prevails at Rome, where the ambition of the lower orders to be a butcher, is, like their white costume, a remnant of the honourable office of killing at the Pagan sacrifices. In Spain butchers are of the lowest caste, and cannot prove “purity of blood.” Francis I. never forgave the “Becajo de Parigi” applied by Dante to his ancestor.