A Corset Knife

 An antique gilt bronze sculpture of a nude dancer with knife.

Revelations of Spain in 1845, by T. M. Hughes, contains a description of a corset knife carried by a Spanish woman:

It was a perfect model, that, of a dangerous cuchillo, a blade six inches long, worn in the bosom of a high dress, standing longitudinally like a whalebone, or its steel substitute. In this sultry climate stays are very little worn, and not at all by the common people. Jacinta never wore such a thing, and would have despised the encumbrance. It was for no coquettish purpose that she wore this steel support, but for needful protection; and, if required, to strike in revenge. A strong shagreen [leather] case was sewn into the bosom of her dress, where the poniard rested as in a sheath; and at the point, to prevent any accidental puncturing of the skin, was strongly stitched a small plate, likewise of steel. The handle was of ebony, bound round with brass wire to impart firmness to the grasp; and on the end was a plate of hollowed brass, to give purchase to the ball of the thumb, and assist its muscular energy, in the act familiar to all Spaniards of striking with the little finger towards the antagonist, and striking upwards.

The blade was from Toledo, which still retains its "trusty" reputation, neither inlaid nor damasked, but of the purest steel and finest temper; it was as sharp at both edges as at the point, and transpierced a dollar without bending. Such was the familiar plaything of Jacinta of San Salvador's — the dangerous toy which dwelt habitually in her bosom, and whose presence there no one would have ever suspected — so uniformly erect was her figure, so firm her aplomb, so shapely her contour, and so sustained her movements. The perfect elasticity of the steel which composed the blade made it bend to the slightest pressure when she stooped; and thus, while it would protect her in case of need, it served the graceful uses of a corset. To think that death should repose so near the source of life! That so rigid and terrible a weapon should be enshrined on that charming wave — those throbbing pulses of delight!

Except amongst the higher classes, many women are as regularly provided with a knife as a rosario [rosary beads], and prepared to stab (if needful) as well as pray. The knives of the men here are of a peculiar make. When shut they are of great length, and open they are like a sabre. The name of this weapon is navaja; and the aim, when used, is invariably to rip up the entrails. I have already described Jacinta's cuchillo, which was worn in a peculiar manner. The Triana women and lower classes of Sevillians carry their knives, for the most part, like the Manolas of Madrid, in their garter. So attached do they become to this mode, that even Lola Montés, the dancer, was found to carry a knife thus the other day at Warsaw.

More on Spanish Knife Culture

 A 19th-century Spanish dagger.

A Handbook for Travellers in Spain (1855), by Richard Ford, has a commentary on the knife culture that prevailed in that country at the time. When we read an account of an exotic land written by an English traveler in the 19th century we have to take everything with a grain of salt, but it is interesting nonetheless. Ford assumes a level of erudition among his readers that is way beyond mine, but I have looked up as many references as I could and added them as bolded notes or endnotes.

Albacete, Abula, owing to its central position, from whence roads and rails branch to Aragon, Murcia, Valencia, and Madrid, is a place of great traffic, and is a town of locomotives, from the English rail, the French dilly, to the Spanish donkey. . . . Albacete is called the Sheffield of Spain [i.e., the knife-making capital], as Chatelherault is of France; but everything is by comparison, and the coarse cutlery turned out in each, at whose make and material an English artisan smiles, perfectly answers native ideas and wants. The object of a Spanish knife is to "chip bread and kill a man," and our readers are advised to have as little to do with them as may be.

The puñal or cuchillo, like the fan of the high-bred Andaluza, is part and parcel of all Spaniards of the lower class. Few are ever without this weapon of offence and defence, which is fashioned like a woman's tongue, being long, sharp, and pointed. The test of a bad knife is, that it won't cut a stick, but will cut a finger (Cuchillo malo, corta el dedo y no el palo). This knife, the precise daga of the Iberians, is the national weapon: hence Guerra á Cuchillo [War to the knife] is the modern war-cry, "Castile expects that every knife this day will do its duty;"[1] and such in fact was the truly Spanish war defiance which was returned at Zaragoza to the French summons to capitulate.

This "long double-edged" tool is either stuck, as the old dagger used to be, in the sash, or is worn in the breeches' side-pocket, or like the Greek heroes wore their [Greek lettering], down the "right thigh" (Judges 3:16)[2]; and so the anelace in Chaucer bore "a Shefeld thwitel in his hose,"[3] just as the Manolas, or Amazons of Madrid, las de Cuchillo en Hija, have the reputation of concealing a small knife -- steel traps set here -- in the garter of their right leg (boni soit qui mal y pense)[4]; for it long has been a notion that making a start with the left leg foremost boded ill-luck.

This "prostitute knife" is a little over six inches long.

This female trinket is also called a puñalico and higuela; the latter word strictly speaking, means a "petticoat bustle;" all these weapons, a sort of Skein Dhu, are Scotch cousins to the Mattucashlash dirk, which the Highlanders carried in their armpits: a feminine puñalico now before us has the motto, Sirbo á una dama, "I serve a lady" -- Ich dien ["I serve."].

A Scottish sgian dubh, which is worn in the top of the stocking. This lovely one is available here.

Gentlemen's knives have also what Shakespeare calls their "cutler poetry;" this is also a Moorish custom, for, in what appeared to be a mere scrolly ornament on a modern Albacete cuchillo, these Arabic words have been read - "With the help of Allah! I hope to kill my enemy." As the mottoes of swords are various, so those on knives abound, couched in an humbler tone; e. g. Soy de mi Dueño y Señor, "I am the property of my lord and master." They say also -- Cuando esta víbora pica, No hay remedio en la botica,-- "When this viper stings, there's no remedy in any apothecary's shop." When the Sistema, or constitución of 1820, was put down, royalist knives were inscribed Peleo á gusto matando negros, and on the reverse, "I die for my King; killing blacks is my delight."[5] The words Negros and Carboneros have long been applied in Spain to political blackguards.

A classic navaja.

The term navaja means any blade, from a razor to a penknife, that shuts into a handle: the navajas of Guadix, which rival the puñales of Albacete, have frequently a muelle or catch by which the long pointed blade is fixed, and thus become a dagger or hand bayonet. The click which the cold steel makes when sharply caught in its catch, produces on Spanish ears the same pleasing sensation which the cocking a pistol does on ours. These spring and catch tools, always prohibited by law, have always been made, sold, and used openly. The gypsies, being great hole-in-corner men and cutpurses, since the times of the Rinconetes y Cortadillos of Cervantes, and the patrons also of slang, and flashmen, have furnished many cant names to the knife, e. g. glandi, chulo, churri (charri is pure Hindee for a knife). La Serdanie, Cachas, dos puñales á una vez; the Catalans call the instrument el gannivete, canif. It is termed in playful metaphor la tia, my aunt; corta pluma, a penknife; monda dientes, a tooth-pick; the best makers are generally well known. Thus Sancho Panza, when he hears that Montesinos had pierced a heart with a puñal, exclaims at once, "Then it was made by Ramon Hozes of Seville."

The handles are adorned in a barbaric semi-oriental style, often with much inlaid work, mother-of-pearl and coarse niello. There is a murderous, business-like intention in the shape, which runs to a point like a shark or a pirate felucca. A Spanish cutler, when praising his wares, will say, Es bueno para matar, "This is a capital article for killing." So the navajas del santo oleo kill a man dead before he can receive extreme unction.

However unskilled the regular surgeons and Sangrados may be in anatomy and the practice of the scalpel, the universal people know exactly how to use their knife, and where to plant its blow; nor is there any mistake, for the wound, although not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, "will serve." It is not unseldom given after the treacherous fashion of their Oriental and Iberian ancestors, by a stab behind, of which the ancients were so fearful, "impacatos a tergo horrebis Iberos" (Virg. Geor. iii. 408)[6], and it is planted "under the fifth rib," and "one blow" is enough (2 Sam. 20:10)[7]. The blade, like the cognate Arkansas or Bowie knife of the Yankees, will "rip up a man right away," or like a ripe melon, as Sancho says (Don Quix. ii. 32)[8], or drill him until a surgeon can see through his body. As practice makes perfect, a true Baratero [knife fighter], is able to jerk his navaja into a door across the room, as surely and quickly as a good shot does a rifle-ball; a Spaniard, when armed with his cuchillo for attack, and with his capa for defence, is truly formidable and classical. 

Many of the murders in Spain must be attributed to the readiness of the weapon, which is always at hand when the blood is on fire: thus, where an unarmed Englishman closes his fist, a Spaniard opens his knife. Man, again, in this hot climate, is very inflammable and combustible; a small spark explodes the dry powder, which ignites less readily in damp England. No wonder, therefore, that the blow of this rascally instrument, a true puñalada de picaro, becomes fatal in jealous broils, when the lower classes light their anger at the torch of the furies, and prefer using to speaking daggers: then the thrust goes home, vitamque in valuere ponit. In jealous broils, which are not unfrequent, the common punishment is gashing the peccant one's cheek, which is called "marking," or painting - Ya estas señalada, Ta estas pintado, picaro! In legal language, pintado por la justicia means branded a rogue; in baker's lingo, "pan pintado," signifies bread ornamented with crosses and gashes. "Mira que te pego, mira que te mato," are fondling or furious expressions of a Maja to a Majo. The Seville phrase was "Mira que te pinto un jabeque;" "take care that I don't draw you a xebeck" (the sharp Mediterranean felucca). "They jest at wounds who never felt a scar," but whenever this jabeque has really been inflicted, the patient, but whenever this jabeque has really been inflicted, the patient, not having the face to show him or herself, and ashamed of the stigma, is naturally anxious to recover a good character and skin, the one cosmetic to remove such superfluous marks, in Philip IV's time, was cat's grease:

El sebo unto de gato,
Que en cara defienda los señales.

NOTES:

[1] This is a play on the signal Admiral Nelson sent his fleet before the Battle of Trafalgar: “England expects that every man shall do his duty.”

[2] Judges 3:16:

Now Ehud had made a double-edged sword about a cubit [about 18 inches] long, which he strapped to his right thigh under his clothing. He presented the tribute to Eglon king of Moab, who was a very fat man. After Ehud had presented the tribute, he sent on their way those who had carried it. But on reaching the stone images near Gilgal he himself went back to Eglon and said, “Your Majesty, I have a secret message for you.”

The king said to his attendants, “Leave us!” And they all left.

Ehud then approached him while he was sitting alone in the upper room of his palace and said, “I have a message from God for you.” As the king rose from his seat, Ehud reached with his left hand, drew the sword from his right thigh and plunged it into the king’s belly. Even the handle sank in after the blade, and his bowels discharged. Ehud did not pull the sword out, and the fat closed in over it. Then Ehud went out to the porch; he shut the doors of the upper room behind him and locked them.

[3] Geoffrey Chaucer. "The Reeve’s Tale," Canterbury Tales:

Ther was no man, for peril, dorste hym touche.

A Sheffeld thwitel baar he in his hose.

Round was his face, and camus was his nose;

A thwitel, or thwittle, was a small knife; a "whittle."

[4] “Evil be to him who evil thinks.”

[5] "Blacks" refers to anti-royalists in this context.

[6] Virgil, Georgics, 3.408: Virgil advises travelers to keep guard dogs:

Nor let the care of dogs be last in your thoughts, but feed swift Spartan whelps and fierce Molossians alike on fattening whey. Never, with them on guard, need you fear for your stalls a midnight thief, or onslaught of wolves, or restless Spaniards [brigands] in your rear.

[7] 2 Samuel 20:10:

But Amasa took no heed to the sword that was in Joab's hand: so he smote him therewith in the fifth rib, and shed out his bowels to the ground, and struck him not again; and he died. So Joab and Abishai his brother pursued after Sheba the son of Bichri.

[8] Sancho Pancho: "[T]hey would have given him a slash that would have slit him down from top to toe like a pomegranate or a ripe melon; they were likely fellows to put up with jokes of that sort!" 

More on the Navaja and Spanish Knife Culture

Here are a few more gleanings on Spanish knife culture from 19th-century travel writers.

Théophile Gautier wrote the following in Travels in Spain (1901):

At Santa Cruz we were asked to purchase all sorts of pocket knives -- navajas. Santa Cruz and Albacete are famous for fancy cutlery. The navajas, made in the most characteristic Arabic and barbaric taste, have open-worked handles through which show red, green, or blue spangles. Coarse inlaid work, but designed with dash, adorns the blade, which is fish- shaped and always very sharp. Most of them have mottoes, such as Soy de uno solo (I am one man's), or Cuando esta vivora pica, no hay remedio en la botica (When this adder stings, there is no antidote in the pharmacy). Sometimes the blade is rayed with three parallel lines inlaid in red, which gives it a most formidable appearance. The size of the navaja varies from three inches to three feet in length. Some majos (peasants of the better class) carry some which, when opened, are as long as a sabre. A spring or a ring to which a turn is given secures the blade in a straight line. The navaja is the favourite weapon of the Spaniards, especially of the country people. They use it with incredible dexterity, wrapping their cloak around their arm by way of buckler. The science of the navaja has its professors like fencing, and navaja-teachers are as numerous in Andalusia as fencing-masters in Paris. Each navaja expert has his secret lunges and his own particular strokes. It is said that adepts can tell by looking at a wound to what artist it is due, just as we can tell a painter by the touch of his brush.

I'm intrigued by the claim that "adepts can tell by looking at a wound to what artist it is due," implying that every knife-wielder inflicts enough wounds on different victims that a recognizable pattern is established. That reminds me of the scene in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly in which Clint Eastwood recognizes his opponent from the sound of distant gunfire, observing, "Every gun makes its own tune."

From Henry George O'Shea's O'Shea's Guide to Spain and Portugal (1889), there is this:

La navaja, or cuchillo, often as long as a common sword, settles at once all differences of opinion, blood being thought to wipe off any petty rancour. It is used very frequently, and has become an art in which the barateros are proficient. A baratero ( from barato, cheap) lives by his knife. He frequents gambling circles, and receives some coins from the cowed-down players whom he has threatened to disturb if they should not grant his boon. This is called cobrar el barato, "to get change." In some cases, one of the challenged parties gets up and refuses to pay; upon which the champion fights. Death often ensues, as the stomach is aimed at. Those curious to learn more particulars may consult 'Manual del Baratero,' with prints. The best specimens of knives can be had at Madrid and Seville; they are principally manufactured at Albacete; they have bright colours on the blade, with mottoes; a muelle or catch; the price varies from 6r. to 30r.

From Samuel Parsons Scott's Through Spain: a Narrative of Travel and Adventure in the Peninsula (1886):

The baratero is a character not peculiar to Malaga, but who attains his highest development in that city. The word means, in plain language, a blackmailer of gamblers. This ruffian rarely plays himself, but never fails to be on hand when a game is in progress. After the winner has gathered in the stakes, he pays over a certain proportion—usually five per cent—of the profits to the baratero. If any hesitation is manifested to submit to this extortion, a fight is inevitable, and, as the baratero is always an adept in the use of the knife, he is morally certain to get the better of his opponent, who loses at the same time his money and his life. No amount is too trifling for the consideration of this ravenous bird of prey, who pockets a few cuartos with the haughty insolence with which he demands a doubloon. The quarters of the city frequented by gamblers are divided into districts by the barateros, each of whom, inspired by that traditional sentiment of honor common to criminals, is careful not to encroach upon the province of any of his brethren; the danger of such interference, moreover, being aptly expressed by the saying, "Nadie se meta a Baratero sin contar antes con los Eserilanos." ("Settle with the magistrates before picking a quarrel with a baratero.")

The skill displayed by the Spanish desperado in handling his knife is wonderful. This weapon, to which all are so partial, is a wicked-looking affair, from one to two feet long, and called a navaja from its resemblance to a razor. The blade is of the finest Toledo steel, and bears the motto common to the side-arms forged upon the famous Tagus: "No me saques sin razon; No me envainen sin honor." ("Do not draw me without cause; Do not sheathe me without honor.")

Defence with the navaja has been reduced to a science, which has its regular school of instruction. The teachers give lessons with wooden knives, and the most noted among them have their private strokes, which are kept secret for cases of emergency. The arts of the most accomplished swordsman are worthless, when opposed to those of an expert with the navaja. With his cloak or jacket wrapped about his left arm, his formidable weapon glittering in his right hand, and his lithe body poised for a spring, he is an interesting study for the spectator, as well as for his antagonist. The thumb is pressed tightly along the back of the blade, that every advantage may be taken of the flexibility of the wrist, in a struggle where the space of an inch is often a matter of life and death. The postures and guards are changed with bewildering rapidity, and, should the right hand be disabled, the cloak and knife are shifted in the twinkling of an eye, and the duel proceeds, until one or both the combatants are killed.

Hand-to-hand encounters are most esteemed by professors of the navaja, but there is a class of them who make a specialty of lodging the weapon from a distance in the vitals of an enemy. They become perfect by throwing it at a peseta fastened to a piece of cork, the coin becoming the prize of the winner. When one grows skilful enough to hit the mark twice in three times, at ten paces, he is ruled out of the contest, and is recognized as a diestro. The blades of these knives are contrived with devilish ingenuity so as to inflict painful and incurable wounds, and are grooved, like Indian arrows, to permit the blood to run freely. All the thrusts and parries used by experts have their technical names—the navaja itself being termed an abanico (" fan")— which are as unintelligible to the non-professional as those belonging to the comprehensive jargon of the bull-fighter.