notes of a short trip to spain. part viii: madrid

Irish Jesuit Province

Notes of a Short Trip to Spain. Part VIII: MadridAuthor(s): John FallonSource: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 13, No. 146 (Aug., 1885), pp. 418-428Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20497293 .

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418 Note8 of a Short Trzl to Spain.

from the tste of eternal happiness, and from access to the heavenly hosts who are surrounded and filled by everlasting joy.

Grant, I beseech Thee, 0 Lord, grace and heavenly blessing to me Thy servant in this brief space of time, who as yet am not

worthy to drink from that fountain overflowing with living waters .springing up into life ererlasting.'

Come unto me, 0 most merciful Jesus, come frequently; inflame me with Thy love; that I may learn to despise all creatures and all things here below, and simply to seek Thee alone, the

eternal uncreated Good, and to love Thee in true earnest, above all things, for Thine own sake.

NOTES OF A SHORT TRIP TO SPAIN.

BY JOIHN FALLON.

PART VIII.-MADIRID.

LEAVING Cordova yesterday afternoon, I arrived here this morning, after a nice little run of seventeen hours and a half by rail. During

the first part of the journey as you may see by the map, the line

follows the valley of the Guadalquivir; then at BaiTza, it turns away to the north, and, after some hours' lively progress, pene trates the ravines of the Sierra MIorena, and thus enters Castille.

Between Cordova and Baeza the soil is of a most peculiar yel

lowish-white, suggestive of barrenness, yet apparently most fruitful, to judge by the endless wheat stubbles and lines of olive-groves spreading up the hills. The subdivisions of the land are still fenced

with cactus, as in the more southern parts of the country, and this,

more than anything else, gives character to the scene.

Near Badza a group of lovely mountains became visible far away in the south-east. What could this be ? the map told clearly: it was the Sierra NevAda, full seventy miles off: each peak was seen with a distinctness of outline all unknown to our moist northern atmos phere. The close of day was approaching at this moment, and the mountains glowed in the evening sun with opal tints of blue and fire, which you should see to realise.

* John iv. 14.



Note8 of a Short Trip to Spaia. 419

As the line draws on towards the Sierra Morena, the soil changes completely. Below Baeza it was of yellowish-white clay: here it is of deepest red. Words cannot exaggerate the redness of it: it is as reI as tte cover of a Murray's guide-book and very much of the

same hue, only toned here and there with a little chocolate brown. Scarcely had the train got fairly within the ravines, when

the sun went down like a ball of fire, and I wish to note the

halo that encircled it for a very special reason, quite apart from its marvellous beauty. The inner ring was saffron, of course, but of a breadth and transparency which I had never seen before; as it spread, it darkened into brown, then melted into an outer circle of green, that green ultimately becoming merged in the unfathomable blue of the sky above. This halo gives the clue to some of Afurillo's

"conceptions," numerous beyond counting in the picture-gallery of this city. The weird glories of light that surround them seem, to a northern eye, like wild creations of fancy, existing nowhere but in the artist's mind: but the fact is, Murillo was true to nature, such as he found it; he nobly encircled his splendid effigies of the Queen of Heaven with the choicest hues of his own Andalusian sun sets, and mortal hand could do no more.

An after-glow of ruby-red followed the sunset, overspreading the whole firmament, and then a glorious thunderstorm. One could almost read by the continuous glare of the fashes, while the loud peals reverberated through the hills. At least one upward flash rose straight from the ground like a rocket; and, like a rocket too, left a sinuous trail behind it, hig,h up in the air, and ending in sparks.

On arrival here, I found there had been a violent thuniderstorm,

at about the same hour, Thus did the poor wanderer bid adieu,

alt too rapidly; to charming Andalusia, firmly vowing to revisit it soon again.

It is a good three hundred miles from this to Cordova, and even a pretty long step to the Sierra Morena, but thanks to a night of

most refreshing sleep, I found myself rolling through the market garden outskirts of this city when I awoke this morning. Alas! in those market gardens I observed, on this Sabbath day, field work fast progressing, all unnecessary in such a climate; and, driving through the modern-looking streets, I noted more than one shop front opened wide, and heard the discordant clang of anvil and hammer from more than one workshop-discordant because of the day. Has the spirit of Voltaire permeated here, or was it always so?

No doubt you have heard of the " Puerta del Sol " (Eastern gate), VOL. Xiii., No. 146. 32



420 Notes of a Short Trip to Spain.

favourite resort of revolutionists, rioters, and makers of " pronun ciamentos." The principal hotels of Madrid look out on it, includ ing the one in which I am located. I had innocently expected to see something of a gate here, or at least an arch of triumph, but not a vestige of gate remains: the "puer ta del sol " is an open square, enlivened by sparkling fountains, and surrounded by tall buildings. Towards it converge the main thoroughfares of the city; through it flows the living population in constant streams, on foot and in vehicles of every description. Ihence a constant crop of dust, and a praiseworthy struggle of the municipality to keep that dust down,

which they do about seven times a day with hose and jets, project

ing the water at least forty yards through the air. Woe to your new hat, if you indlulge in such a folly, and chance to pass when the

sparkling spray is flying through the air! for the ingenuous water men are apparently blind to any discrimination between friend and foe. Sometimes they charitably wake up and direct their aim at some heated horse, whose driver halts to avail himnself of their liberality, and soon the gratefull quadruped leaves the square refreshed and happy; at other times they shoot the water almost straight upwards, and in the bright sunshine of Spain the falling showers fill the air

with perfect railnbows. Such is the " Puerta del Sol," as seen to-day.

But, no doubt, there was formerly here a gate, when Madrid was

a provincial fortress, and its ramparts just passed alongside: the puzzling survival of the name recalls this simple fact. It was the emperor Charles V. who first made this town the permanent seat of

government, simply on account of its central position on the map of

the peninsula. His son Philip followed his example; and thus did this place of mushroom growth acquire precedence of cities that were

capitals inany centuries before it was ever thought of as such. Compared with their antiquity, proud and stately as it now stands,

it is but a thing of yesterday. Its streets show this: they are

straight, wide, and modern-looking in all respects. The churches show it also: they are second-rate in style and size- which means

that the majority of themn were built after the great church-build

ing era had passed away; a few that are of older date are merely

converted mosques of the second class. Ihence the astounding fact,

Jliadrid has no A-eal Cathedral!

There would be no sense in disputing the perfect right of the Spanish sovereigns to locate their official capital wheresoever they pleased; neither is it quite to be regretted that historic cities of immemorial seniority were passed over for a town of no historic

atecedents in any way comparable with theirs; it was their fate,



Notes of a Short Trip to Spain. 421

erndprobably their good fortune, thus to escape the modern " improve ments " of officialism, andc to retain their own picturesque and classic features, handed down from antiquity, for you and me to admire and enjoy. What I do regret is, that, when Spain and

Portugal were one, some favouring angel did not whisper into the ears of the meditative Philip to make Lisbon the capital of the united peninsula. At his feet lay the boundless expanse of the new world, into his coffers were flowing its golden treasures; human foresight could never have conjured up the wondrous vision of the present day, which is being enacted beyond the Atlantic: but surely some forethought might have told him that, had he made such selection, the undivided peninsula would probably bave remained to him and his heirs for ever. But " dis aliter visum ". -

Providence permitted things to happen otherwise, perhaps all the better for humanity.

Will it shock if I tell you that I spent this afternoon at another

bull-fight-to compare Madrid with Seville, and to see some of the

deftest toreros in all Spain contending, Fruscuelo again con spicuous among them? At Seville the amphitheatre holds eleven thousand persons, and not a place was vacant : here there are seats

for fourteen thousand, but more than half of them were empty,

though the programme and performance were of superlative ex

cellence, and it was a gala day. Infer from this that at Madrid

people care perhaps less about bull-fights than at Seville, probably .from having them oftener. On the other hand the picadors here

seemed not quite so badly mounted as at Seville: consequently there were fewer casualties among the horses, and the wounded

were immediately ridden from the ring. One incident I wish to note: a noble bull, in headlong pursuit

of a chulo, cleared the barrier at a bound, just in front of where I sat, in fact almost beneath my hand. (This is considered a rare piece of good luck for the spectator so favoured). Round he careered, along the narrow passage which separates the barrier from the amphitheatre: a moment before, this passage was dotted with gossiping attendants, and lounging amateurs, and with toreros

waiting for their turn to enter the arena: but such is the

agility of aill this cass at vaulting, that, in the tw7inkling of an

eye, the passage was cleared, and no disaster occurred.

The going to and coming from the course were, if possible, more lively than at Seville, owing to the greater variety of vehicles in a capital which is the residence of royalty and its followers.

Landaus and barouches of newest build were intermlxed with state.




vehicles of some other century, long as boats, lofty as towers, carved and gilded, covered with armorial bearings, and most of them painted red. In their time they may have borne the weight of kings and queens; to-day they were freighted with artisans and shop keepers to overflowing, and in more than one case their charioteers, driven from their lofty seats by the crowding, sat humbly perched near the splinter-bars, in dangerous proximity with the heels of their quadrupeds: still each contrived to send his team along at a surprising pace, with tassels rebounding and bells all tinkling in

merry harmony, and dIithout a collision. Amid all the rush and crush of vehicles old and new, I saw not a single dispute, heard not a single rude word; truly the Castilian takes his amusement in sober and stately fashion, cool and gentlemanly to the end.

And now let me tell you a little legend of genuine medifeval antiquity:

It was in the days when Madrid was still a military outpost

of the Moors, and already the tide of Christian reconquest was advancing towards it in deadly warfare. Manly games of skill and daring were being celebrated in the public square of the town; and, foremost amongst them, a great bull-fight, in presence of the whole assembled population of the fortress. Aliatar, the Emir's deputy, sat in lofty state, and at his side the fair Zaida, queen of beauty and regent of the feast. And it happened that one bull,

more fierce and active than the rest, had driven all his antagonists

from the arena, or sent them rolling in the dust. In vain the multi

tude vociferated for the highest born and most valiant, calling on

them one after another by name to come down and test their courage

against the infuriated animal-even Aliatar had been challenged

loudly among the rest, but dared not stir from where he sat-the

beast paced about in triumph, sole master of the field .. . It was

at this moment a herald announced that a young Castilian knight,

superbly mounted, was at the gates, demanding to enter the lists

alone, and bravely face the danger when all the rest refused.

The permission was promptly granted, and thus unexpectedly did

the bull-fight recommence. . . On came the animal, with seemingly

resistless fury-the charge was parried with knightly skill and splendid horsemanship. . . On he came again, with redoubled

rage and speed, and when the dust cleared away, his huge form

was seen rolling on the yellow sand. Forthwith the young Castiman, detaching with his lance the bunch of coloured rib. tbons hooked to the neck of his dead enemy, gallantly presented

it to the fair Zaida, who as gracefully accepted it, while loud



Notes of a Short Trip to Spain. 423

acclamations rent the air ... At this a dark jealousy overspread the brow of Aliatar, and thus he spoke: "'Not thus, sir knight, are

we wont to pay tribute to the fair, with shreds torn from the carcase of a beast. The guerdons we present are more proudl wrung from the helms annd necks of your Christian countrymen whom we slay in battle. At present you are my guest, so depart in peace! should you come again, I will meet you with my steel . . " Thus

spoke Aliat6r; but the young Castilian, his cheeks mantling with indignation, reined back his horse, and proudly laid his lance in rest, in knightly token of defiance to mortal combat then and there. Loud rose a mighty clamour; but, high above it, the sound of clarions, the bugle-call of the gallant Christian's retinue rushing to his support. At their head he proudly sallied forth; but he vowed, by the cross-handle of his matchless sword, not to doff helmet till AliatAr and all his Moors should be driven from Madrid for ever . . . And the capture of the fortress followed within a year.

This is one of the legends of the Cid. As a matter of fact the

capture of Madrid took place in the year A.D. 1083, so that it harinonises very well with the period of his life; ancd the legend unconsciously proves, if it proves nothing else, that at the time when it took poetic form-say in the thirteenth or fourteenth century-bull-fighting was an institution in vogue, in which the noblest were expected to join. When at Seville, and speaking of the bull-fighting there, I promised to prove a little of this, if you came with me as far as Madrid. I hope I have now redeemed that

promise, and that I may conclude, like the pedagogues, with a "quod erat demonstrandum!"

* S *

I have now spent the better part of two days in the picture gallery of Madrid. Yesterday, being a first inspection, was laborious: to-day, when leaving, I was quite surprised to find that

my little visit had lasted nearly six hours, so smoothly did the minutes fly.

That the gallery here is of superlative excellence, is pretty generally known. People wonder at the fact, considering that this capital occupies so secondary a share of men's attention at present. But let it be remembered that, just when painting was at its zenith, Spain, for all practical purposes, meant not only the peninsula, but also the two Sicilies, and the Netherlands, and the German empire for a time, and good part of upper Italy, and the wealth of the new world, and paramount influence everywhere. No country ever commanded such opportunities of gathering eret




class pictures; and of these opportunities its monarchs availed themselves right royally, both in attracting great painters to their court, and in purchasing works of art wherever money could buy them. Titian was the personal friend and, for a long time, the most honoured guest of Charles V., and of his son Philip II. Velasquez was the ditto ditto of Philip IV. For the two former Titian almost deserted Venice: for the latter Velasquez made himself unknown at Seville, his birth-place: to study Ve1asquez, youb must come here.

Of course I could not think even of enumerating the pictures that struck me most, but should just wish to mention a few of

those which I thought grandest of all, or especially interesting by reason of their history.

And first Raphael's "Spasimo," a picture as large as the

"Transfiguration " in the Vatican, or rather larger. It represents

our Lord falling under the cross-his mother, with arms extended, is rushing towards him-St. John and St. Mary Magdalen support her-a group of women sympathise-executioners and soldiers crowd the scene-the leader is on horseback, flaunting the S. P.

Q. R. of ancient Rome.

To my thinking, this picture equals or excels all that I

have ever seen of Raphael, the " Transfiguration" itself not

excepted. In this gallery you will also see Raphail's "' Perla," represent

ing the Madonna and Child, with the equally youthful St. John.

It was formerly in the collection of Charles I., which the round

heads of England stupidly scattered, and most of which Philip IV. secured, acting on the judicious advice of Velasquez. On seeing it the king exclaimed: "This indeed is my pearl "-but

his eye had not been feasting on the " Spasimo " when the words

escaped his lips, for the latter is infinitely grander in every way. As for Titian, there are pictures enough from his single brush

to form a gallery in themselves, and of every kind, mythological, allegorical, sacred and profane. Ile was the onily artist for whom Charles V. would consent to sit or stand, and we have here his

picture of the emperor on horseback, in a costume of black velvet, by no means handsome-looking, but with a dignity of bearing that makes this picture be considered the very finest equestrian portrait in the world.

We have here also Titian's " Gloria," sent to the emperor after

his abdication, when he was already installed in his monastic cell of

St. Just, far away in the wilds of Estremadura. It represents

prdphets and patriarchs of the Old Testament, doctors and saints



Notes of a Short T'ip to Spain. 425

of the New, in ascending tiers on the slope of a mount, and, high above them all, the ex-emperor and his son Philip, receiving a specially

favoured audience before the open coturt of heaven. Instead of reEent

ing the outrageous audacity of the compliment, the royal recluse directed that the picture should be hung over his grave: and, as if

to expedite the enjoyment, ordered his funeral to be performed forthwith, and the obsequies were accordingly celebrated before his face. It might have further impressed his mind with the vanity of earthly grandeur, could he have foreseen that his earnest and

emphatic command concerning the painting would before long be coldly and utterly disregarded, as it is now: for here the picture hangs, for you and me to admire, while his ashes moulder far from

it, in the lonely pantheon of the Escurial. Separated by about a century from Titian come Velasquez and

Murillo, the former painting real life to perfection and with pre Raphaelite minuteness, but scarcely venturing beyond it: the latter not fearing to soar into the highest regions of the ideal, and depict ing " conceptions " and IHoly Families as they have never been rea

lised since. One comnes almost to know the royal family of Spain,

as it were intimately, from all the portraits and portrait-groups of its members that one meets here, painted by Velasquez, and it is

wonderful what a resemblance pervades them all. You would probably expect to find them dark-haired and dark-eyed, bronzed and martial-looking. Instead of this, imagine them with flaxen locks, cold grey eyes, flabby yellow complexion, long pointed chin and projecting under-jaw, and you have theim as drawn for them

selves, by their own court-artist. One exception might perhaps be made in favour of Philip IV. himself, whom Velasquez painted

on horseback, as Titian painted Charles V., " witching the world

with noble horsemanship! "

There is a crucifixion by Velasquetz which impresses most peo ple: II think I have seen something like it in Flanders, by Van

Dyke. The hair has fallen down on the forehead; there is dark ness in the background. To most people this picture is emotional to a degree.

But quite the grandest of all the pictures of Velasquez, and

the most ambitious, is the " Surrender of Breda," known here as

"Las Lanzas." It hangs in a place of honour, close to the

"Spasimo " of Raphael, and deservedly occupies the position, for I doubt if there be any more splendid historical picture in the world.

As for the inspired Murillo, he is here in every style, " frio,

calido, and vaporoso." Some of his " conceptions " reproduce the



446 Notes of a Short Trip) to Spain.

sunset-halo which I noted when passing through the Sierra Mor6na: the artist drew his inspiration straight from heaven. There ib one picture by him which I thought quite the most perfect in finish: it is known to the world as " Los Nifios de la Concha," and artists

seemed eagerly competing with one another to copy it Speaking of copying, I observed an elderly lady thus engaged

in front of a lovely Claude Lorraine, representing St. Paula leaving her Roman villa for Palestine. The golden sunrise is tinting the transparent rippling water of the Tiber, as the young patrician

matron steps into her boat from the classic home which she is about to leave for ever. Gorgeous trees fill the foreground: an endless perspective of landscape spreads away in the rear. And the lady was copying all this, with a perfection which I had never seen before, all intent on her labour of love, from which she never turned a glance. She wore the graceful black mantilla: a super annuated duefia sat watchful by her side, knitting for ever and for ever.

And this leads me to add that all the lady-artists whom I saw

painting here to-day and yesterday were thus protected, each by a dueiia who sat spectacled, knitting and prohibitory-all except one bevy of maidens who, strong in their numbers, clustered in a group without any dueiia whatever. Alas! none but the aged copyist of Claude Lorraine wore the national mantilla . . . Paris fashions have reached as far as MIadrid, and are steadily moving southwards, like the Russians in Asia, with the certainty of a natural law: but no fashion can rob those Iberian faces of their classic profile and flashing glance I

There is one artist, a modern, and almost unknown outside Spain, whose works are hung here with all the honours, on a level with the great masters of the golden age. His name was Goya, and

this century was well advanced when he died, but he could boast that Napoleon, even at the height of all his power, could never coax from him a portrait; the artist scorned to paint the oppressor of his country. His are the scenes of the "' dos de Mayo," speak ing records of the murderous butcheries of Murat. His brush has a roughness of touch which makes his pictures look like unfinished cartoons: in fact, jealous Frenchmen taught themselvesflippantlyto say that he used no brush whatever, but laid on the paint in spoon fuls, with a real spoon, and spread it with the handle, or his thumb, or whatever came nearest to his reach. This is another way of saying that his easel and brush would never pander to their

master, and, for this, his grateful countrymen are doublv and justly proud of him.



Notes of a Shlort Trip to Spain. 427

To conclude, as I really must, I would summarise my two days! impression of this superb gallery by saying that, having visited and somewhat studied the pritcipal collections of Europe, except Dresden, I would rank this with 'he best of them all.

Picture-hunting, however pleasurable, is not without its fatigues; but this evening they vanished in a delightful stroll to the " Buen Retiro," which represents the Champs Elysees of Paris.

You get two tickets at entrance; one to the outer park, where coffee and ices are served under tall trees, and military bands per form. Ihere parents come with their smallest children, and the

nifios" and " ninas " of the rising generation chase one another with Arcadian freedom through the grounds-while blackbirds, not nightingales-challenge one another in ilute-like carols from the highest boughs. Those carols are just the same as in Ireland in early June; here is one of them:

3 3 __3

Here is another:

And a third: 4 3 ~~~~3 3

And a fourth: 1L 3 3 33

And a fifth:

G A L4~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~L Truly " coli enarrant gloriam Dei".

Gradually this life and song die out, and then the move is to the inner gardens, to which the second'ticket admits. Here an open air opera is going on, very fairly sung, and admirably acted, as it



428 Railwsay Travelling.

could scarcely fail to be in Spain, where people almost speak with their fingers. The place is luminous with white lights in globes,

which swing in festoons from branch to branch; their illuminating task is an easy one in this wonderful air, for the star-lit sky almost

makes one feel that they are superfluous, except for ornament, and to imitate Paris!

Here again, as in the outer park, the babyhood of Madrid is conspicuous by its joyous presence, held fast captive on maternal knees, yet sprightly and wide-awake even at this late hour. This comes from the afternoon siesta, which cuts the long day in two, and devotes the broiling portion to soothing slumber and repose.

But you will say that I am getting prosaic and tiresome. To-morrow I shall be off to Toledo-there I hope we may perhaps meet again.

RAILWAY TRAVELLING.

IWY FRANCES KERSHAW.

Y ES, it is all very well for bachelors and maiden ladies to tall, but, as is often the case when they open their mouths

they are discussing a subject which they don't in the least under stand. To these travelling by rail implies merely the simple fact of being carried-free of all labour on the part of your own

stumps-from one spot in this Uilited Kingdom to another, either in a sleeping or waking condition as the case may be. Then let us

warn you that if Iltis be your only notion of travelling by rail, you

know nothing whatever about it, and had better say less. Leave it to us married folks to give you our experience-a

wide and varied one. Somebody's wife's mother becomes suddenly possessed with a violent longing to see " the dear children " im

mediately; or one of the said children is recovering from an attack of fever, and must be carried off to the sea-side at once for change of air, and to give it to other people. Well, whatever be the reason, we make up our minds to go, and in order to do so, we

must take the train. The children are attired in their " Sunday-go-to-meeting"

clothes with infinite pains on the part of mother and nurses, com

bined with sundry slaps and kisses, coaxings and scoldings. By



notes of a short trip to spain. part viii: madrid

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