Part 16 (2/2)

An interesting rite is performed on Thursday afternoon, when the Cardinal Archbishop washes the feet of twelve poor persons, who are given new clothes and a substantial meal. In the evening the _Miserere_ of Eslava is again sung in the Cathedral by a chorus of one hundred and fifty voices, accompanied by ninety instrumentalists.

During Holy Week a lamb fair is held in the Feria del Rastro. The lambs are bought and given to children, who lead them about the streets.

The Corpus Christi festivals, or _La Fiesta del Santisimo Corpus_, are less gorgeous than those of _Semana Santa_, but they are not without interest to the student of religious custom. The dancing of the _Seises_ in the Cathedral is certainly a curious spectacle. Blanco White says that among the treasures carried in the Corpus Christi procession of his day were the tooth of St. Christopher, the arm of St. Bartholomew, the head of one of the eleven thousand virgins, a part of the body of St.

Peter, a thorn from the crown of the Saviour, and a fragment of the True Cross.

Special services and pageants are also celebrated on All Saints' Day and at Christmas (_La Natividad_). The pilgrimages are another Andalusian custom dating from early Christian times. These _romerias_ are of a festal character. The people resort to Rocio in Almonte on Whit Sunday, dressed in holiday garb, and riding in carriages decked with banners.

Dancing, singing and feasting are the chief attractions of these semi-religious _fetes_. _La Consolacion de Utrera_ is celebrated on September 8, when excursion trains are run from Seville to Utrera. In October there are _romerias_ on each Sunday at Salteras, eight miles from the city. The festivities usually end with a display of fireworks.

Pa.s.sion plays are still represented in Seville. At Easter the drama of the 'Pa.s.sion and Death of our Lord Jesus Christ, with the Glorious Resurrection' is acted at the Teatro Cervantes. The Teatro de San Fernando is the home of opera and spectacle, and there is a summer theatre, the Eslava, in the Paseo de la Puerta de Jerez.

Who has not heard of the charm of Andalusian dancing? Seville is the home of the _bailarin_, the artist of the _bolero_, _ole_, _Sevilliana_, and other dances. On every evening in summer, the inhabitants dance in their _patios_ to the guitar and castanets, while the street lads perform their Oriental antics in the _plazas_ and bye-streets. The cleverest professional dancing is to be seen at the _Cafe de Novedades_, at the end of the Calle de las Sierpes, where it is joined by the Calle de Campana. There are other _cafes_ in Sierpes where national and gipsy dancing may be witnessed, but perhaps the most characteristic performances are those of the Novedades. You may obtain a seat, just in front of the stage, for half a peseta. The entertainment usually opens with a representation of gipsy or _flamenco_ dancing, which is a strange exercise and difficult to describe. A number of women sit in a semi-circle on the stage, and in the centre of the dancers is a male guitar player. Nothing happens for some time, but the spectators evince no impatience. They sip coffee, smoke, and chat contentedly.

Presently one of the _flamenco_ women quits her chair, and begins to strike extraordinary postures. At one moment she might be trying to impersonate Ajax defying the lightning; in the next she is apparently fleeing from a satyr. Her hands are held high above her head, and there is a continual movement of the fingers. She writhes and wriggles rather than dances, and the feet play no part, except that the heels now and then thump the stage. Meanwhile her seated companions drown the sound of the guitar with the clapping of their hands and cries of _anda!_

One after another the women go through these curious contortions to the delight of the audience. I believe that there are subtle fascinations in these dances when one understands the drama which they represent; but to the casual spectator they are somewhat tedious, and they do not make much appeal to the imagination or to one's sense of the graceful in movement. Most visitors will prefer the Andalusian dancing. The dancers of the Novedades are extremely nimble in the _bolero_, one of the prettiest and most joyous of dances. Their shapely, lissome feet skim and bound in bewildering and intricate steps, to the clicking of ribbon-decked castanets. They spring into the air, hover, and bound again; they move rapidly on their toes, float, glide, and almost fly. It is a wonderful sight. One is sorry when the troop leave the stage. There is an intoxication in watching such grace, lightness and agility.

The singing of _coplas_ (couplets) is one of the attractions at this _cafe_. This form of vocalisation is very Andalusian. I can only describe it as a prolonged _tremolo_; the singer appears to sing a verse without drawing breath, and the effort often seems painful. A 'star' in this art is exceedingly popular, and his singing is sure to be followed by loud plaudits.

Gitana dancing of a more p.r.o.nounced sort may be studied in the suburb of Triana, where there is a colony of gipsies. Those who have read George Borrow's _The Zincali: An Account of the Gypsies of Spain_, will discover an increased interest in their visit to the Gitana quarter.

Some of the Triana gipsies are the swarthiest and weirdest of their race. A hag, who might be a hundred, clutches your arm, and looks into your face with her cunning black eyes as she begs for alms. She has the features of an Egyptian, coal black hair, and a skin like the calf-binding of an old book. A nude brown boy rolls in the road, a Cupid in sepia.

Here is a lovely girl of fourteen, with a lithe figure, feline movements, huge dark eyes, jet locks, and a rich olive tinting of the skin. She is conscious of her beauty, and will not cease to insist upon receiving a coin for the pleasure that her charms afford the admiring Gentiles. Whatever you give her, she will ask for more. But she is very beautiful, and most beauties are exacting. Some of these Romany people are almost as swarthy as negroes. There is hardly one who would not make a splendid model for an artist. Their graceful unstudied pose is most alluring to the painter, while the mystery of their glowing eyes, their strange lore, and secret speech invest them with romance and poetry that appeal to Mr. Leland and Mr. Watts-Dunton.

George Eliot must have experienced the spell of these tawny folk during her visit to Spain. Her 'Spanish Gypsy,' is a 'creation' but it was to the Gitanas of the highways that the poet owed her inspiration. 'Gypsy Borrow' found the race irresistible; the tongue, the customs, the esoterics of the Zincali of Spain were to him a subject of fascinating study.

In the old days the Romany fared ill in the Peninsula. He was a pariah, a suspect, an object of persecution. But to-day Sevillian gentle-folk are inclined to pet the Gitanas, and it is quite 'good form' to use Romany phrases, and to appear a little gipsyish. The sons of wealthy families are the patrons of the _flamenco_ dances; they are enthralled by the loveliness of the lithe nut-brown maids, with piercing eyes, carmine lips, and pearly teeth. But it all ends in admiration. No bribe will tempt the Gitana la.s.s to swerve from the strict code of chast.i.ty laid down by the tradition of her cla.s.s.

To see the Gitanas at their best, or living under primitive conditions, take a trip down to Coria on the Guadalquivir. A steamboat starts daily from the Triana Bridge at about half-past seven in the morning. The voyage is interesting, and you can return in time for evening dinner.

You pa.s.s two or three villages with landing-stages, and gain views of the distant marshes towards the mouth of the river, while on the right bank are slopes clothed with olives and vines. Pottery is made from the red clay of the foothills, and a number of gipsies work at this industry.

At Coria you will be an object of curiosity, for very few strangers visit the little village. The Gitanas inhabit 'dug-outs,' or caves, in the hillside. These dens are only lit by the doorway, but they are not so dark within as one might expect. Nor are they unwholesome, for the gipsies appear to take pride in keeping their habitations clean. Most of the cooking is done outside the burrow. There is quite a warren in the hill, which is honeycombed with dwellings of this savage kind.

Strange to say, not a single Gitana begged from me when I visited the colony. But the Gentile population of Coria were somewhat importunate when our party embarked for the return journey to Seville, and most of the lads of the village congregated on the landing-stage to beg for _centimos_.

Macarena and Juderia, the poor _barrios_ or suburbs of Seville, are not like our English slums. There is no sign of abject want, though the people have a keen struggle for subsistence. The houses are all white-washed without, and the little courts have their climbing roses or a grape vine trained to pillars. There are malodours here and there, owing to the insanitary practices of the people; but the inhabitants of these quarters are seldom ragged, and they do not appear dejected, dirty and degraded.

Now and then, a mischievous boy will throw a stone at the foreigner, or a group of idlers will break into derisive laughter when you pa.s.s by. On the other hand, ask a question civilly of these people, and they will put themselves to trouble to a.s.sist you in finding the church or the monument of which you are in quest. Beware, however, of the soft-tongued, amiable loafer who persists in d.o.g.g.i.ng your heels and offering his services as a guide.

Begging, which is such an intolerable nuisance in some of the Spanish towns, has been almost suppressed in Seville by the rigorous munic.i.p.al laws. The mendicant is not extinct; some of the order are sure to be encountered in the neighbourhood of the Cathedral, but they do not pester the visitor incessantly as in Toledo and Granada. A number of the idle and vicious inhabitants of Seville appear to be homeless. In this balmy Southern climate, the _al fresco_ life of the tramp is not unendurable; still I am told that beggars sometimes die in Spain by the roadside from sheer want.

The Plaza Nueva is a favourite nocturnal resort of the _gamins_ and vagabonds of the city, and at one in the morning the s.p.a.ce presents a scene resembling that of Trafalgar Square in the days when unfortunate 'out-of-works' camped there nightly.

In the Macarena quarter is the market street of the Feria. This thoroughfare should be seen. It is the home of metal-workers, whose beaten bra.s.s, iron and copper ware is interesting and artistic in workmans.h.i.+p. Peripatetics here display a jumble of second-hand articles upon the ground, such as books, old pictures, bra.s.s candlesticks, tools, b.u.t.tons, pistols, rusty swords, harness, and mule bells. There are stalls of fruit, coloured kerchiefs, hats and caps, shoes, and common china ware. The scene is bustling and bright.

Here the young and unknown artists of Seville were wont to sell their pictures in former times. Murillo and many another painter of renown stood here anxiously awaiting chance purchasers for their works. These 'fair pictures' were often daubs; but sometimes, no doubt, a buyer secured the work of a young genius for a trifling sum. If a purchaser wished a picture altered to his taste, the artist would retouch it upon the spot.

These were hard days for young painters. But many who hawked their religious pictures and portraits of the Virgin and the saints for pesetas rose to fame, and gained wealth in their later days. A _pintura de la Feria_ became a term in Spain for a meretricious picture. Some of the Feria paintings were still-life subjects, and others were _sargas_, large screens or banners used in sacred processions.

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