mer months. The bed-rooms in large towns are carpeted in winter; they seldom have fireplaces, but in winter a brazier is lighted. The domestic arrangements in general in the Spanish hotels and lodgings are very bad. The only way that an improvement is ever to take place is to complain incessantly to the servants, and insist upon cleanliness whenever necessary.
§ 10.—Spanish Robbers—New Police—Civil Guards.
Undoubtedly on the long highways of a thinly-peopled land, accidents may occur; but the regular and really formidable robbers have almost disappeared on the high roads, in consequence of the institution of a body of well-armed men, admirably disciplined (part mounted) as Gens-d’Armes, who are stationed on the principal routes as escorts and patrols. They are called Guardias civiles, to distinguish them from military and rural guards. Notwithstanding these precautions, however, every now and then trains are stopped, and the travellers robbed. Valuables should always be taken in a hand-bag, for the railway service is bad all over the country, and passengers’ baggage is frequently opened on the journey.
Civil Guards of Spain.—This noble body of men is composed of 20,000 Foot and 5000 Horse Guards, or Gendarmerie, first organised 1844–45: they are dressed in dark blue tunic and trousers of same colour, light buff-coloured belts, and armed with Remington rifles; some have the short, some the long rifle.
The Guardias civiles are under military law; their punishments and penalties exceptionally severe.
Their esprit de corps is good.
Their ranks are composed of the high-character and long-service men of the Spanish army; and of cadets from the College, near Madrid, where all the orphan children of Civil Guards who have died in the pursuance of their duty, are educated, free of expense, for the force.
The duties of the Civil Guards are much the same as those of the Irish Constabulary, whom they greatly resemble in organisation.
They are stationed, in couples, in every town and small village, and in small barracks along every frequented high-road, and in squads of from 25 to 50 in Spain’s larger cities. They are police, without being spies; soldiers, without being liable to be called on for service beyond the Peninsula. They perform their duties as police most effectively. Not a robbery is committed but what these men find out, and, thanks only to their exertions, Spain is now well-nigh free of robbers. Two of them meet every train at every station, examine passports with courtesy, check everything that is wrong, as well by their presence and morale, as by the strong arm of the law. They escort prisoners from one prison to another, and, knowing how uncertain in its action is Spanish law, they constantly shoot down a murderer, taken red-handed, or trying to escape when on the march with them from prison to prison. They have done more to establish order in Spain than any other body. The men are 5 feet 8 inches in stature, well-set and powerful. Their head is a General in the army, living in Madrid, with the title of Director-General. Their officers are nearly all of the middle class; say, of the class of tradesmen. All members
