Maud Howe Elliott

“ I tell my friends here that the loss of Cuba and the Philippines was the dawn of a renaissance, the beginning of a new Spain. It was cutting back the vine that had gone to wood. Now the sap runs, there is new life, fresh growth. Knockdown blows are what men and nations need to get up their muscle. He said it,—your father: ‘Obstacles are things to be overcome!’”
The pigeons fluttered in and out of the Giralda, careless of the great bells swinging to and fro, and the shadow of their wings wove a new pattern on the face of the roseate tower. ”

“ After the second dance, she handed a tray with glasses of wine. Each succeeding dance was better than the last. The best of all was the one the old woman gave us at the end. Only once was there an approach to what Maria had hinted at. A woman with a bad face gave us a Jaleo, a gross, wriggling dance with unpleasant contortions of the body, wonderful as an exhibition of skill and strength, but not quite decent, and lacking the grace, the beauty, and the dignity of the old woman’s performance.
“Haven’t we had enough?” said Patsy, at the end of half an hour. ”

“ So, coming after Hercules, Carthage, Rome, Tarik, we are here! We landed at night. As we passed down the steamer’s companionway to the tug, the Kaiser roared a hoarse farewell, her screw beat the “inner sea” to a white lather. From the upper deck a girl’s handkerchief fluttered, a man’s voice cried “Good luck!” Two thousand Italian steerage passengers, the menace and amusement of the voyage, chaffed and laughed at us from the lower deck. For nine days the steamer Kaiser, sailing on even keel, had been all our world; a creature-comfortable world, with only too much beef, beer, and skittles. ”

“ Patsy explained, “they keep the fine, inner pinkish layers to bottle up those two great life destroyers, the drugs and liquors of the world.”
The way now led over the Sierra Rondena, through the wildest, most beautiful part of Andalusia; past thickets of gum cistus, covered with glorious, golden-hearted, white blossoms; across green vegas enamelled with clumps of amber gorse; through waves of daisies, white and yellow, regiments of scarlet poppies marching through the pale green wheat, multitudes of cornflowers, morning glories, and ruby-headed alfalfa, king of all the handsome clover tribe. ”

“ Spain has pulled on the seven-league boots of the giant Progress, and is striding manfully ahead, making up for lost time.
It is easy enough to turn one’s back upon the great army of ghosts at Seville in Fair time, when life is at the flood and the pulses leap with the thrill of it; in Sevilla Vieja, the old Roman city of Italica, it can’t be done. Here are none but ghosts, and one old gabaloonzy man who acts, in the absence of the true guardian, as our guide; he is a shepherd and his sheep crop the grass that grows over Italica. ”

“ Concepcion was very silent. There were dark rings under her dovelike eyes. In a moment all was changed. The bells of the Giralda burst out in sudden clamor. Thunder once again rolled through the cathedral, the black veil parted and fell to the ground, revealing the retablo of Dancart. In this wonderful altar-piece the sculptor has carved in larchwood the story of the life whose last hours on earth Seville has been living over again during the last three days! It is all here, told once again in faithful, loving art. ”

“ The fish of the Mediterranean seem brighter colored than other fish. Like wet jewels the red mullet, like silver the turbot, like many-colored enamels the big variegated conger eels the Romans liked so well. Gibraltar, which produces nothing, is splendidly victualled. The beef comes from Morocco, the vegetables from Spain, the fruit from every Mediterranean port. At the fruit stalls were bunches of Spanish grapes, long, purple, white, hanging thick overhead, a background for Barbary baskets filled with citrons, persimmons, cocoanuts, apples, and pears. ”

“ Punctually at the appointed hour the band struck up the Spanish national air, there was a ruffle of drums and a fine gala coach from the royal stables came rumbling along the Calle Bailen at the heels of four noble horses with head-dresses of long nodding blue ostrich plumes. The coach was of gold and crystal with beautiful painted panels. The liveries of coachman, postillions, outriders, palfreniers and men-in-waiting who walked beside, were blue and gold to match the splendid trappings.
“The coach is empty, there is nobody inside,” cried Patsy. ”

“ Patsy philosophized, “Build it all up into a monument to his own memory, or lay it down in paving stones—or a bridge—for other people to walk over. Which is the best worth while? As if one could choose!” He dropped a stone into the water, and watched the circles spread into larger and larger rings.
We had arrived at Cordova too late to see the Mosque, and had come directly from the station to the bridge to watch the thin current of life and traffic pulsing in and out of the dead alive old town. There is no place like a bridge for gathering impressions of a strange city. ”

“ In the outer aisles, which are free of the coro, you have an uninterrupted view of the entire length of the building, and can realize its sublime proportions, get a sense of the harmony of the whole; the ease with which the vast columns uphold the roof, and divide the whole space into its proper parts. In itself, the coro is like an exquisitely wrought gem in a chaste and simple setting. It is shut off from the nave on the side of the puerta mayor, by a marble façade containing fine bas-reliefs, and a painting of the Virgin by Francesco Pacheco, father-in-law and teacher of Velasquez. ”

“ The car was an excellent representation of the House of Congress, with its Greek façade, white columns, timpanum, and bronze lions on either side the door. Behind the columns was a brazen pot filled with men dressed as locusts. The car was greeted with roars of laughter and applause.
“Thou seest?” said Jaime to Villegas. “The government devours the country like locusts! It is true! We have the best people in the world, and the worst government!” ”

“ The comfortable smell of kine came in at the window. On the other side of the Guadalquiver, in the golden haze of dust kicked up by those silly, helter-skeltering cows, lay Cordova. Before us rose the great Mosque; in the centre the towering masonry of the Christian Cathedral stood out in bold outline against the distant Sierra. The sun set quietly in the quiet sky; a few minutes after, the whole heaven was aflame with the glorious crimson after-glow; the river ran red; the whole earth shone with the reflection. ”

“ In spite of these drawbacks, the Prado is the most delightful Museum I know. It soon became to us, as to Don Luis, a second home. The first impression is of an immense hospitality; there is no entrance fee to pay; the Museum is free to all. Then the guardians are all so kind and, nearly all, so good-looking. The man who takes your umbrella or walking stick treats you with courtesy and respect, not, as in some galleries, as if you were a criminal or a lunatic bent on poking holes in the canvases.... Every museum has its climate or atmosphere ”

“ After a while she disappeared behind the vast canvas of the Death of the Matador, that takes up the whole end of the studio, and from this improvised dressing room she soon reappeared in a scarlet moreen skirt, and a manton de Manila draped gracefully a la maya, about her lithe figure. She had stuck the peonies in the curls on either side of her pale face.
Dionisio and the other lad began to play a strange droning, wailing chant; the chorus clapped hands keeping time. Imperio sat watching till she caught the right rhythm, then she sprang to the dance, the castanets on her fingers. ”

“ The Calpe of the Phœnicians, the Jebel al Tarac of the Arabs, the Gibraltar of the Spaniards. Where Queen Adelaide’s lighthouse now sends its ray of light out into the darkness, the famous shrine of the Virgen de Europa once stood. Here, once upon a time, Jupiter, in the shape of a milk-white bull, plunged into the sea with the lovely Europa on his back, and swam with her to Crete, where she became the mother of Minos, whose ruined palace has just been discovered in that wonderful island of Crete. The land, more steadfast than the sea, keeps in its breast some of the things men prize most. ”

“ Look at the picture long enough, and the illusion seizes you that you are really looking into a room of the gloomy old palace of the Alcazar, the Court of Philip IV, where Velasquez lived and worked the greater part of his working life. You can walk into that room where he stands at work before a big canvas, look over his shoulder, see the portrait he is painting of the King and Queen; you can even touch him on the arm that supports his palette.
“He paints pictures no longer,” cried little Don Luis the Valencian. “Like a god he creates a world with light and atmosphere, plains and mountains. ”

“ A swart gypsy dropped a line into the river, a crane flapped across the sky, a fish leaped, flashing silver in the sun; the wonderbook of life was still to read; history and its ghosts must wait for old age and winter fireside.
It had rained for three days and nights, to the discomfort of flocks, herds, dealers, breeders, gypsies, and compradores. From Ronda and Utrera in the south, from Huelva in the west, from Aguilar, Lerida, from all over Andalusia, the animals were being driven in for the Feria, the great animal fair that follows the fiestas of Holy Week. ”

“ The soil is light and clean; you will not find a stone in a whole field. The regulation of the complicated system of irrigation, the life blood of Granada, is in the hands of Encarnacion and Maria. To live in a tower, of all others in a tower of the Alhambra, and spend your life helping to make Granada green and beautiful, seems a pleasant existence, even if it be a lonely one. To wake when others sleep, and sleep when all the world’s awake, always seems a hard fate. ”

“ They only thought about building the house of God. We waste ourselves in inventing ingenious devices for heating and lighting the churches of men, and let slip the great opportunity!”
We were walking, while Pemberton poured out his vehement torrent of talk, through a narrow, twisting calle, innocent of sidewalks, between tall Morisco houses with openwork gates, catching tantalizing glimpses of patios where roses riot, fountains sing, cedars whisper. If there be jealous iron-bound doors in gracious Seville, like those of grim, old Moorish Ronda, they stand hospitably ajar. ”

“ From what he said, Gibraltar cannot be a nice place when the black levanter blows, the dark cloud cap settles on the summit, the clamminess comes into the air, and the stifling east wind takes the heart out of a man and sets his nerves jangling, till he feels like Prometheus chained to the burning Rock. They make out very well in the winter, Bracelet said, with the warships coming and going, people from home running down to the Hotel Maria Cristina over in Algeciras, and occasional shooting trips in the Atlas Mountains. Of course, the great institution is the Calpe Hunt. ”

“ A tall young officer with a roving blue eye and gold hair lying in crisp little curls on an ivory forehead, stood leaning against the wall, talking with a small, dark youth with a hawk nose, and black, impenetrable eyes where the fire smouldered but did not flash.
“That good-looking boy is Martin O’Shea,” said Pemberton; “Irish—need you ask? The family has been settled here a hundred, perhaps three hundred years; his eye has not lost the Celtic light, or his tongue the edge. The other is Benamiel, Moorish descent, of course; they’re both dangling after a certain girl, a friend of Concepcion’s. ”

“ Pemberton went on. “Here every man is equal, not merely in the law’s eye, but—what’s far more important—in his own eyes, and proves it by allowing no other man to show better manners than he. These girls, the fine flower of Seville, may safely take their part, add their beauty and their grace as the crowning attraction of the Feria, because the man in the street will be as polite to them as the gentleman in the drawing-room.”
“Bendita sea la madre que ti pario,” blessed be the mother that bore thee. It was Miquel’s parting compliment to the señoritas, as he made his way out of the crowd. ”

“ The tragic paso of the Crucifixion was escorted by a brotherhood of boy penitentes followed by a band of child musicians. Directly behind the cross marched a tiny drummer in uniform, beating a big drum. If he was not a dwarf, he could not have been more than four years old.
“What a funny little boy!” murmured Concepcion, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. The supreme scene of the Crucifixion, the figures all by Roldan, the sculptor who spares no grim detail of pain, was followed by stifled laughter. The merriment struck an awful anti-climax. ”

“ The heavy walls are the outside of the oyster; the fairy courts and halls painted with the tints of rainbow, dawn, sea, and moonlight are the inside of the shell. The pearl? In the room of the Two Sisters the winter apartment of the sultana, I had a vision of Irving’s Linderaxa. I could not remember how he described his pearl of the harem, but the face I saw or dreamed of as I sat in that fairy palace was the fairest woman’s face I ever saw. Her skin was like warm ivory, her hair an aureole of flame, her eyes, gray stars, her smile, the smile of the imperishable child. ”

“ The blue eyes of those half-naked, half-starved hillmen shone with a fierce light; the black-eyed Moors looked gentle beside them. Blue eyes mean white blood! The wild hillmen have not forgotten where it comes from. They remember that long and long ago, in Roman days, a tribe of Vandals and Alans—some say eighty thousand people—crossed the straits to Morocco and never came back, though three hundred years later some of their descendants came over to Spain with Tarik, our old friend of Tarik’s Hill, and conquered Christian Spain for the Crescent. ”

“ We anchored in the bay far out from Tangiers, a white town set like a pearl on the edge of an emerald crescent. Near the right point of the crescent, Tangiers climbs up the hill from the yellow sea sands to the green heights of the foreign embassies and villas; at the extreme point stands the lighthouse. America cleared the Mediterranean of Barbary pirates; and the great European powers built the lighthouse, as they have built the post-offices, the hospital, and every other modern thing in Morocco. ”

“ Crowds of orderly, well-dressed people thronged the streets day and night, admiring the magnificent illuminations, the splendid decorations. Where other cities use bunting and cotton cloth, Madrid used satin, silk, damask, brocade. The fronts of the houses were brave with rich embroideries and priceless tapestries. The famous ruby velvet hangings covered the façade of the Duke Cestus’ palace, the pattern of the silver blazonry outlined at night with electric light. ”

“ Concepcion dropped a perro chico (literally a small dog, a copper coin worth one cent) into his trembling old hand.
“Dios se lo paga a V.,” said the beggar, a neat, self-respecting mendicant whose voice lacked the whine of Italy. God himself will pay it to you!
In the rich, dusky spaces of the nave, near the puerta mayor, a marble slab is let into the pavement. Carved upon the slab are the familiar device of the three brave caravels and the proud motto, “á Castilla y á Leon, mundo nuebo dié Colon.”
“This is the tomb of that good son, Ferdinand Columbus,” said Pemberton. ”

“ Only the wheel of the Brother of Light, the wandering knife grinder of La Mancha!
The Plaza San Lorenzo was filled with people, the trees with small boys; a mannerly crowd with no hoodlums; indeed, I think the genus does not exist in Spain. Soon the word was passed: “They are coming.” The throng shifted, a way was made for the king’s halberdiers, fierce men with twisted moustachios and bronzed skins, the very flower of the army. ”

“ The priest at the middle pulpit was a big, powerful man, with a fine resonant voice. His intoning of the gospel was masterly; Concepcion said the finest in Seville, if not in Spain. The old priest with the delicate, spiritual face, like a wax mask with jewel eyes, and the high treble voice, must have been as good at intoning in his day.{67} The little boys who held the candles close for his old eyes to see, leaned towards him with a pleasant, human tenderness. It was easy to see there was love in their service. ”