Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Over the border
 Dividing forces
 To Burgos
 The cid
 The cathedral
 A long night
 Madrid streets
 An incident
 The Vaughans
 Calle Isabel, 16
 Early Spain
 Another cathedral
 Justa and Rufina
 The narrow strait
 The conquest of Granada
 The alhambra
 More of the alhambra
 The Generalife
 Back Cover

Title: Young Americans in Spain
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00089017/00001
 Material Information
Title: Young Americans in Spain
Alternate Title: Family flight through Spain
Physical Description: 257 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. (some col.) ; 24 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Hale, Susan, 1833-1910
Lothrop Publishing Company ( Publisher )
Publisher: Lothrop Publishing Company
Place of Publication: Boston
Publication Date: c1899
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Natural history -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Rivers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Family -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Street life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Description and travel -- Juvenile fiction -- Spain   ( lcsh )
Family stories -- 1899   ( local )
Travelogue storybooks -- 1899   ( local )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1899   ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1899
Genre: Family stories   ( local )
Travelogue storybooks   ( local )
Publishers' advertisements   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Statement of Responsibility: by Susan Hale ; fully illustrated.
General Note: An abbreviated edition of the author's A family flight through Spain.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
General Note: Publisher's advertisements tipped in following text.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00089017
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002223618
notis - ALG3869
oclc - 06096810
lccn - 99001690

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 5
        Page 6
    Front Matter
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    Title Page
        Page 11
        Page 12
    Over the border
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
    Dividing forces
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
    To Burgos
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
    The cid
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
    The cathedral
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
    A long night
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
    Madrid streets
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
    An incident
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
    The Vaughans
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
    Calle Isabel, 16
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
    Early Spain
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
    Another cathedral
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
    Justa and Rufina
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199-200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
    The narrow strait
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
    The conquest of Granada
        Page 220
        Page 221-222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
    The alhambra
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235-236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239-240
        Page 241
        Page 242
    More of the alhambra
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
    The Generalife
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
    Back Cover
        Page 260
        Page 261
Full Text















BSOLUTELY nothing, sir, but
Swearing apparel, and perhaps a
v. few drawing materials."
SThis statement in French was
made to a mild-looking official
< who stood within a long coun-
ter piled with trunks, boxes, port-
S manteaux and valises. On the
outer side was an anxious crowd
Sof travellers pressing and push-
S ing to find their own impedi-
ments, in order to have them
passed without delay.
The mild official chalked a
white cross upon the box under
"Is that all, Monsieur?"
r-y- "That is all, Bessie, is it not ?"
..-asked the gentleman who was
conducting the transaction; "one,
two, three and the ship trunk," he added in the same breath.
"No, papa, I have not found the little black box yet."
"Here it is!" cried a boy who now appeared, bumping every one
in the crowd with the corners of a small travelling box which i
porter in a blue blouse was struggling to take away.


"This man cannot speak anything," cried Tommy, "but he
thinks the trunk belongs to those other people."
Blue Blouse consented to surrender the box; by this time the mild
official was far away on his side of the counter, making white
crosses upon the boxes of other impatient tourists, some of whom
were obliged to open their trunks to satisfy the inspectors. All
the travellers who were to go away by the train which was stand-
ing outside the station, were in a great hurry; all the officials who
were to stay, appeared to be in no sort of haste.
Finally one of them turned his attention to the little trunk.
It was a harmless black box, marked T. P. H., but for some reason
-it appeared suspicious to the Spanish inspector, and he demanded
that it should be opened. Straps were unfastened, the key pro-
duced, and the top thrown back. Soiled linen, slippers, and a
dressing-case appeared upon the surface. The man plunged his
hand into a corner, fumbled about, punched and squeezed a sponge
in its india-rubber bag, then withdrew satisfied; and the party,
:now permitted to return to their seats in the train, hurried through
the long room where many other people less fortunate than them-
selves were still searching for their effects, and undergoing the
examination, which, however slight it may be, is always tedious and
vexing. They passed along the row of carriages, some of them
empty, the doors standing open ready for their occupants who were
still away struggling with the inspectors. In others, placid parties
were reading or chatting together. A lady sitting at the open
door of a compartment, was watching for the party; as they
approached she called out:
Here I am! I have guarded our seats like a dragon, and I
*believe we shall still have the compartment to ourselves. Is every-
thing safe?"
"Yes, aunt Dut," replied the girl. "And here are your keys.
We did not have to open one of your things, and they only fell
foul of Tommy's small box."
"I don't care," said the boy, "they did not find the rahatlicum;
it was too near the bottom."

-26 r

j 'i


Icc~' -e~


"You do not mean to say that any of that is left!" exclaimed
For this was Miss Lejeune who was guarding the carriage, keep-
ing seats for the rest of the.party, which consisted of herself and
Mr. Horner, with Bessie Horner and Tommy. These now all entered
the carriage and began to dispose of the wraps and straps which
they had spread about upon the seats before leaving it, in order
to make the aspect of things as forbidding as possible to passen-
gers searching for seats. A compartment in continental railway car-
riages is built to hold eight, but it is much more comfortable for
four persons only; thus it becomes one of the great arts of travel
to keep out intruders. Four is the most convenient number for a
party travelling in this way. It not infrequently happens that they
can keep a compartment to themselves, and have plenty of room
for putting up feet, leaning comfortably in corners, and above all,
they can control the two windows. There is room for the exhibi-
tion of all grades of good breeding, and bad manners, in this mat-
ter of the compartment. It is perfectly fair for a party to try to keep
the whole for themselves, especially if the train is long, with plenty
of accommodation for all; it is annoying when new-comers persist
in invading the place already taken possession of, and, by trampling
upon toes, crowding the racks, and pushing themselves into the
vacant seats, succeed in making the whole journey uncomfortable,
and their presence disagreeable, instead of seeking elsewhere in the
train an empty carriage. On the other hand, perhaps the intruders
have not been able to find another carriage, or are forced to take
this one by the guard, who does not encourage the exclusive sys-
tem; in this case, it is hard for the late arriving travellers, flus-
tered and hurried, with their hands full of rugs and bags, to find
themselves most unwelcome, with no space resigned to them, only
forbidding glances cast upon them, and even grumbling remarks
which they can guess at well enough, although the language in
which they are spoken may be foreign.
The Horners were now settling themselves into the best covers
of a first-class carriage of a train which had just crossed the frontier


between France and Spain. The station was Irun, in the Spanisn
Basque Provinces. At Hendaye, their last French town, they had
crossed the frontier, and there changed carriages, necessary because
the Spanish railways are built with a wider gauge than the French
one, in order to impede invasion, it is said. Judging by the length
of time required to transfer the ordinary travel of a period of peace,
we may imagine that the delay to an impetuous army might be
The Horners had left Bayonne about noon that day, having come
from Bordeaux the day before. The day was lovely and the scenery
charming, with glimpses of the Bay of Biscay, at intervals, on one


side, and on the other the soft line of the receding Pyrenees. It
would have been pleasant to linger at Arcachon, a bright watering-
place near Bordeaux, or to take a branch train to Biarritz, the favorite
resort of the Empress Eug6nie, still beautiful, though less frequented
than in its palmier days. As they crossed the little river Bidassoa,
which is the boundary between France and Spain, they saw a small
island les Faisans, called also l'lle de la conference, which has served


as neutral ground for more than one meeting important in history, as
for instance the exchange of Francis the First, of France, after he had
been the prisoner:of Charles the Fifth.
"See!" said Miss Lejeune in a low tone, nudging Bessie, "there
are those people who came from Bayonne. I saw them passing
before. I suppose they have been identifying, their boxes."
"They look nice," replied Bessie, "but I am glad they are not
coming in here, for they have such quantities of hand-baggage."
"They must be changing their seats. Perhaps they did not find
good ones at Hendaye."
The party they were observing consisted of a tall elderly gen-
tleman, and three ladies, of whom the first seemed advanced in
middle age, while the other two, who followed, were much younger,
one of them wearing her long hair in a braid, as Bessie still did,
for convenience in travelling. Each of the party was laden with
shawls, umbrellas, guide-books hastily seized upon at a sudden
signal for flight, and a waterproof of india-rubber trailed on the
ground from one of the overflowing heaps. Tommy jumped out and
ran up to the youngest girl, saying in French:
"Permettez moi, mademoiselle," while he tried to take her third
umbrella from her.
"Oh, thank you; don't trouble yourself," she replied in very good
They had now reached the door of an empty carriage, and
Tommy's assistance was by no means superfluous in helping them
in. A little shriek, however, from the engine, startled them all,
and he left them to hurry back to his own party. The guard
pushed him in, banged the door, hurried every one else on the
platform, banged more doors, and waved his hand at other guards
banging other doors.
"Now we are 6ff," said Bessie, leaning back in her stuffed and
cushioned corner.
After this, the train stood motionless on the track for more than
twenty minutes; useless to inquire wherefore. Nothing of impor-
tance occurred. The luggage had been all examined and market'


and transferred to the vans. No passengers were missing. The
Homers put their heads out of the window, but saw nothing to
account for the delay. The Spanish passengers in the other depart-
ments were not disturbed, but quietly read their newspapers and
smoked their cigarettes.
Thus it is upon the Spanish railways. Repose and procrastination
pervade the system. Perhaps the officials inherit from Moorish


ancestors the Mohammedan belief in "Kismet," for it is by Faith
and Fate that trains reach their destination, rather than by rule
and time-table. They start sometime, and they arrive somewhere,
and that is pretty much all that can be asserted of their punctu-
For the rest, the carriages are comfortable and clean, the
officials are civil and obliging, the buffets frequent enough, and the
food good enough for travellers with good digestions, and enterprise,
to risk experiments in strange cakes, fruits and beverages.
After all, there is no hurry! If you have allowed a certain time
for seeing Spain, you may as well see it from a railway station as
elsewhere. The Horers, like other Spanish travellers, came to feel


more intimate with the two gens d'armes, or alguazils, who stand
at every station, than with any other inhabitants of the country.
They stand immovable, in full uniform, with white hats that have
a sort of flap at the back, watching the train, and awaiting its
start. They are always on the platform as the train draws up at
each station, and they all look so exactly alike, that it is pleasant
to indulge the belief that they really are the same pair transferred
by some process of swiftness, as yet unknown to the rest of the
Spanish, from one station to another, to protect with their wooden
vigilairce the interests of the travelling public.




SPAIN is entered perhaps most naturally in
the way the Horers selected, by crossing
the frontier at Irun, in order to pass down
through Burgos to Madrid. It was now the
first of May, and, although they had made all
j l haste in coming from the East, where they
had been passing a delightful and instructive
winter, the season was somewhat advanced for
making the Spanish trip.
"Spain so late!" exclaimed the Wiseacres.
You will perish with heat."
S"You never will be able to stand the climate
of Madrid in June."
"Make haste to get through the southern
S part first, or you will miss all the charm of it,"
said others.
In spite of these discouraging warnings, the
Horners continued to feel an interest in their
own plan, which had been made not without
v recognition of the phenomena of heat and cold,
as affected by climate. They came from Bor-
deaux to Bayonne through the level, monotonous, but picturesque
Landes, where Bessie from her window had the good luck to see
a shepherd on chanques-tall stilts-which are still worn by the
people to move about upon the soft, marshy ground. The Landes
is a barren stretch of country, covered with turf and moss. Pines


are the only trees, and it would look desolate enough, except that
where the railway crosses it, trees lately planted are beginning to
change its aspect of desolation.
Baybnne is a fortified town, enclosed in walls, and entered by
four gates. It is so near the frontier of Spain that it already
begins to have a Spanish look. The streets are lively with a great
variety of faces, costumes and languages; for Basques, Gascons,
and Spaniards, are coming and going continually. The women have
pretty handkerchiefs tied about their heads, and the men wear
berets and ceintures of bright colors.
The Romans constructed a citadel at Bayonne. As early as the


twelfth century it was a place of importance for the whale fishery,
tanning of leather, navigation, and traffic with Spain.
The marriage of Eleanor of Aquitaine with Henry of England,
gave Bayonne to that country. Richard Cceur de Lion extended
its privileges, which came to be so great that it was almost inde-
pendent. Subsequent rulers had much trouble in restraining its
liberties. The mayor of Bayonne used to be in those days a most
,nportant magnate, executing justice as seemed riht in his own

- -41. *A -I .. ___ __ ,


eyes, upon all evil-doers. The Bayonne people were always at odds
with the Basques, their next neighbors, and intimate enemies; leg-
ends remain of endless contests, and of one great battle in
the hall of a town where the Bay-
onne men were surprised by a party
of Basques. They fought with chairs
and tables, as well as sharper weap-
ons, until almost everybody was killed
on each side.
It was at Bayonne that Francis
', the First arrived from his prison at
A I Madrid, and found his mother and
the court awaiting him. Since then
the local history of the place may be said to consist of passages
back and forth of princes and princesses; in the present century it
has served often as a place of shelter for Spanish political schemers.
The Basques, into whose province the Horners now passed, are
said to be the descendants of the earliest inhabitants of the Penin-
sula, and to this day they preserve their strongly-marked charac-
teristics of custom and language. Like the Bayonne men of old,
they have a strong sense of independence, and a determination to
maintain laws of their own, which have been respected at all times.
They are noted for truth and honesty, and for their unbounded
hospitality. They are tall, and often handsome, with fair hair and
blue eyes, like the ideal Norsemen, which comes naturally from
their Celtic origin, different from that of other Spaniards. The
Basque language, wholly different from Spanish, is remarkable, and
difficult. They still wear the national costume, which is highly
picturesque; for the men, short dark velvet jackets, and loose
trousers, with alfargatas on their feet, and a blue or bright red sash
about the waist.
The Horners at once began to enjoy the novelty of the Spanish
national costumes. Although, as in other par*s of Europe, these
are now somewhat superseded by the encroaching black broadcloth
for men, and conventional Parisian fashions for women, much still


remains of picturesque attire. Each province of Spain has its
own characteristic; different colors prevail in different places, with,
however, a general similarity. The short breeches coming only to
the knee, with buttons up the outside of the leg, are so much
more becoming to the manly form than the long, slouchy trousers
enforced by fashion, that it seems strange that man's vanity
should have been so passive as to allow the change. Alfargatas
are sandals of white hemp, thick and strong, for the sole of the
foot, bound on with a mysterious arrangement of strings, generally
black, crossed over the foot.
It must now be explained why the Horner family is so small as to
occupy only the four corners of their compartment. They have been


seen filling the whole of one without extending the actual limits of
their party.
Upon leaving the East. Spain was the goal towards which the
minds of the Homers turned, but there was a difference in the
degree of longing with which each regarded that land of romance
-4d sunshine. Mrs. Horner expressed a willingness to do it vica.


riously, and a preference to settling down somewhere quietly,
while the rest of her family went through Spain; after which
they could come back and tell her all about it. This idea was
only accepted with equanimity by the rest because it seemed rea-
sonable. It was quite unlike the last division of the family, when
the broad Atlantic and the narrow Mediterranean had flowed
between the two parts. A large party is inconvenient for travel-
ling anywhere, and especially in Spain; not only for comfort in
railway carriages, but by diligence, in hotels, indeed, in all manner
of sight-seeing.
Mrs. Horner received the full permission of the council to
"form a nucleus" where she liked, and to select her companions
who were to remain with her, leaving four to undertake the
Spanish campaign. She chose the Pyrenees for her retreat, with
ample advice from the friendly Fords, who knew the region well,
where to select her point of repose. Mr. Horner she appointed
leader of the Spanish expedition, and Miss Lejeune his chief coun-
sellor, keeping Philip as her own protector, escort and financier.
Between the two girls it would have been difficult to select, but
that Mary seemed hardly strong enough for the undertaking.
Everybody depicts the condition of Spain as so deplorable, its
roads so bad, its inns so poor, that there is a general impression
that only giants for strength, and lions for courage, should under-
take it. Mary herself hesitated, fearing she should be an encum-
brance; at times not up to the requisite mark. Bessie on the
other hand was now in full health and spirits, with a tremendous
appetite, and unflagging powers of endurance. She' smelled the
battle afar, and champed the bit; it would have been cruel to
have deprived her of it. So Mary stayed behind with her
mother. Tommy became number four, and very joyfully.
Mr. Hervey was out of the reckoning for either branch of the
party. He accompanied them all to Marseilles, and thence to Lourdes,
a way-station on the way to Bordeaux, where the great separation
took place, the Spanish portion going on to Bordeaux, and thence
to Bayonne, as we have seen, while the rest took a branch train


up to rierrefitte, among the mountains. Mr. Hervey still escorted
them, wishing to see them fairly settled before he left them for
They had a couple of hours to wait at Lourdes, where is the
famous "Grotto of the Virgin." A close row of omnibuses waited
at the station to convey people to the Grotto, and small boys way-
laid every one on foot, with voluble offers to escort them thither;
but the Horners were not even tempted by simple curiosity to
avail themselves of the opportunity of seeing the immense church
which has lately been erected on the spot where, in 1758, the
Virgin Mary is said to have appeared in person to a young girl.
There is a fountain of supposed miraculous powers of healing, and
thousands of pilgrims visit the place. Since the miracle has been
pronounced "authentic" by the Church, it is wholly given over to
their accommodation, and to making money out of them.
A fine drizzling rain made the landscape dull, and the roads
muddy. Mrs. Horner and Mary preferred to remain in the station
reading guide-books and newspapers which they bought at the book-
stall, while Mr. Hervey and Philip, with some difficulty escaping
the attacks of tormentors, determined to take them to the Grotto,
found their way up to an old castle picturesquely placed on top
of a little hill.
"What are you smiling about, Mary?" asked her mother, across
the top of the Vie Moderne which she was looking over.
"Poor Bessie!" replied May. "I was thinking of the last thing
she said while we were standing on the platform before their train
went off She is so afraid she shall not be up to the mark about
the Spanish galleries. She said: 'I know I shall not like the
right things, and then aunt Gus will be dissatisfied. She will
miss you all the time she is looking at the pictures.'"
Mrs. Horner laughed, but said:
"Bessie has very good taste in pictures. I dare say she will
do very well."
"But she has heard of the Montpensier collection which came to
Boston long ago, and she fears all Spanish pictures are horrid."




AT last the train was fairly off, and the Spanish Horners, as
we must call that branch of the family who were to explore
the Peninsula, settled themselves in the four corners of their com-
partment, which was, luckily for them, all their own. They were
such old travellers by this time that everything proceeded with a
certain system. Four neat shawl-straps seemed of themselves to
seek commodious corners of the rack above their heads. Four
umbrellas fell together behind the straps. There was, besides, a small
straw box containing lunch put up at Bayonne, and a little book-
strap which held the guide-books and time-tables.
It will be observed that each one had an individual shawl-strap
and umbrella. This can hardly be avoided in travelling, and it is
a good plan for each person to consider himself absolutely respon-
sible for these two things of his own. It was the rule with every
Horner, but, for the first time on this trip, Tommy, grown both
strong in arm and chivalric at heart, announced to Miss Lejeune
at the outset that he meant always to carry her strap as well as
his own.
It may seem to tarry-at-home travellers a want of gallantry on
the part of the gentlemen, that the ladies of the party should ever
be allowed to carry their own straps; but experienced tourists
know that the leader of a party must not be burdened with even
the thought of such things. It is the responsibility more than the
dead weight of hand-luggage which makes it a burden; for in
general there is not much carrying to be done; a stout porter is
almost always to be found upon whose broad shoulders portman.


teaux may be heaped, and whose hands hold all possible parcels.
He carries everything faithfully and accepts at the end fifty cen-
times, or its equivalent, with contented cheerfulness.
So Miss Lejeune, accepting, for the boy's sake quite as much as
her own, this gallant knightship, was not encumbered with wraps.
As soon as they were started, Bessie undid the little book-strap.
"Which will you have, aunt Gus?" she inquired.
"Give me O'Shea, unless your father wants it."
"Not at all," replied Mr. Horner. "I am going to devote
myself to accounts, for I have not yet accustomed myself to this
Spanish gold."
At Bayonne Mr. Horner had exchanged his French money for
Spanish without difficulty; nor did he find it difficult to under-
stand the latter, it is so like the French, a peseta being worth
somewhat, but not much, more than a franc. The sum he received
was given him chiefly in bright gold coins worth twenty-five pesetas
each, looking very much like English sovereigns, and of about the
same value. The reales were rather puzzling to the Horners, because
they heard a great deal about them, but only saw pesetas and
countless small coins of trifling value, which they never came to
clearly understand. Hotel bills are generally reckoned in reales,
and as it takes four reales to make a peseta (twenty cents), the
number at the bottom of a bill looks formidable with its sum of
figures until it is divided by four, after which it subsides to a
moderate number of pesetas with nothing alarming about it.
A real is about the same as five cents; but it seems a more
important value in Spain, on account of the number of lesser
coins, sometimes very small in size, for one of which may be
bought in the street a handful of carnations, or an immense mag-
nolia blossom ten inches in diameter.
The time passed quickly as the train swept along through scen-
ery sometimes grand and wild, suggesting bandits and brigands.
The guide-books kept our party well posted on the points of inter-
est, historic and romantic, and they would have been glad to pause
often to make a sketch or inspect a castle. Darkness alone gave


rest to their eager eyes, and minds excited with this first expe-
rience of Spain. They were glad to sit silent for an hour or two.
It was ten o'clock in the evening before they arrived in Burgos.
Here they left the train, with all their little Spanish phrases at
their tongues' ends, ready to do battle in that language. Passing


out of the station, and surrendering their tickets to the man at
the gate, they saw a long line of omnibuses, and a long line of
porters, all labelled both men and carriages with the names of
their several hotels. This was quite as it would be elsewhere in
Europe, and quite reassuring. Mr Horner, however, endeavored to


give a Spanish turn to the way he pronounced the words Fonda del
Norte. The man whose hat was encircled with the same words,
took them to the omnibus of that hotel, took the small piece of
paper, which in Europe corresponds to our bunch of baggage-
checks, and by and by returned with their effects, which were
hoisted up to the top of the omnibus, and plunged down upon it
with the usual thump. All this was all en regle, except that the
vehicle seemed a little squarer and squalider than some they knew,
and Tommy had perceived that three mules in a row were harnessed
to it. The two or three people who joined them were evidently
not Spaniards, but travellers like themselves -a grumbling French-
man, and a very stout German with a curved nose. They started
off with a jerk, and cracking of whips. The three mules kicked
up their heels, as Tommy could see through the darkness from
the little front window, and they were whirled off over a rough
pavement, at a mad pace. The passengers were bumped against
each other, the windows rattled, the little kerosene lamp smoked
and smelt, the thing rocked as if it would tip over. As they
could not in the least see where they were going, it was a little
"I'm glad mamma is not here," said Bessie, holding on to
the side of the omnibus, "if it is all going to be like this."
"I like it"- much, Tommy was about to add, but the sudden
jolt of stopping shook his mouth together before he had time to
finish his sentence.
They were ushered into a low, dimly-lighted passage-way. Two
or three proprietors and waiters, both men and women, came out to
receive them, and Mr. Horner bravely began to state his views about
rooms, in words culled from several Spanish conversation-books.
" Quatro camas y quatros por quatro," was what he had learned by
heart, a troublesome collection of q's and c's, which means "four
beds, and rooms for four." He was greatly relieved, though not
flattered, to be answered in English, which, though not of the
best, was more intelligible than his Spanish. They were soon
shown to a wonderful salon, low and large, furnished with dingy


chairs and furniture, sofas, a shabby carpet, clocks and mirrors
after the manner of France, dimly lighted by two candles. From
this opened at each end a bedroom, so that Miss Lejeune and
Bessie on the one hand, and Mr. Horner and Tommy on the
other, were comfortably established. Two truly Spanish maids came
in, with panuelas round their heads, and bustled about the beds.


Miss Lejeune began trying her Spanish on them, and said, in that
language, that she wished much to learn to speak it.
"Poor lady!" said the girl to her companion. "The Sefiora
wishes to speak our tongue, and she cannot."
After they were refreshed a little they went up-stairs to supper,
or late dinner. Their own rooms were up one flight from
the street, and were directly over a stable, whence the sounds,
and eke the odors, of animals arose, and in the morning the cheer-
ful hee-haw of a dear donkey. There was no grand entrance or

: 27

~\~" ~L,


broad corridor to this hostelry; all the stairs looked like back
stairs, and the passages were dark and narrow. They were placed
at one end of a long table, filled with guests, chiefly men, all
apparently chance travellers. The table was lighted by hanging
lamps (probably kerosene), and ornamented with vases of mature
artificial flowers. The courses were served at the elbow, like any
other table d'kote.
So much is said and asked about the food in Spain, that per-
haps it will be well, once for all, to give a little account of it.
It is known, by this time, that the Horners were never fastidious
about what they ate, and that they had failed seldom to discover
wholesome food, in some form, wherever they went. They were
prepared to find things pretty bad in Spain, and therefore were
agreeably disappointed in this matter. The fact is that now
almost all hotels in large Spanish cities, are kept either by
French or Italians, and the food is much the same as that fur-
nished in other hotels on the Continent; better or worse, according
to the grade of the hotel. This dingy old Fonda at Burgos
differs from the hotels of Madrid and Seville, in being less like
those of other continental towns; so that the little bit of Spanish
experience which the Horners had had at the outset was not
repeated for some time.
A real Spanish dinner begins with a soup, good or bad,
according to the cook who makes it. Puchero follows inevitably,
the national dish par excellence, and always served. It is not very
different from the "boiled dish" of New England, being boiled
meat, surrounded with vegetables, and garnished with slices of
sausages, lard, and ham, with tomato and saffron, and red peppers,
for even in the food local color glows, as in everything else
Spanish. The chief ingredient is garbanzos, which Gautier describes
as "peas striving to appear to be beans, in which they are only
too successful." Puchero is not bad; it is eaten with alacrity at
first, but after being served week in and week out every day and
perhaps twice a day, it palls upon the palate, and one reason
for being glad to get out of Spain, is seeing the last of it.


Eggs cooked in oil--good fresh oil--which is used much instead
of butter, or some slight entremet, follows the puchero, and then
comes fish, at this odd point in the meal. After this the inev-
itable roast and salad, sweets and cheese, on this occasion the
excellent queso de Burgos, a specialty of the place follow, with
delicious fruit, oranges, strawberries, or apricots, according to the




U NDER their heads were the omnibus-mules in their stalls, but
nevertheless the Horners slept sound in their first Spanish
bed. Before they slept, they heard the call of the night watch, end-
ing with "All's well!" at first faint in the distance, then after a
pause, louder, and then dying away again repeated far off. This
reminded them of Alexandria, and made them feel quite at home.
Next morning instead of coffee, there was brought to their rooms
a tray containing cups of thick chocolate, and bread,, with a tumbler full
of water for each person, and resting across the tumbler a long piece
of crisp white sugar, called azucarillo. This is the national morn-
ing meal, and our party was resolved to adopt the national habit.
The chocolate was good, but very thick. "Too filling, for this time
in the morning," said Miss Lejeune, and after this experiment she
went back to her favorite cafd au lait, which can always be had
fairly good. Tommy rejoiced in the chocolate, and in the sweet
azucarillo, which should be eaten after it is dipped in water. A
glass of water inevitably follows a cup of chocolate. It is supposed
to aid the digestion of it. Miss Lejeune thought it would take
more than a glass of water, of which she was not fond, to settle
the rich heavy beverage, especially so early in the morning, and she
seldom tried chocolate after this. This was an exception to her
general rule of always eating in Rome as the Romans do.
When the maids came in to make the beds, the Horners were
still in their salon writing letters. Bessie after careful research in
her conversation-book, asked of one of them at what time would be
almuerso,- breakfast.


"Allassonzas," replied, apparently, the maid.
"Gracias," said Bessie, lisping the c with Castilian elegance. She
was half encouraged, half mortified at her Spanish attempt; evi-
dently she had been un-
derstood, for she received
a prompt reply, but what
under the sun waS it!
Allassonzas !" she re-
peated as soon as they
were alone. They knew
their numbers pretty
well, but this sounded
not like any of them.
"I'll tell you," she
herself exclaimed, "it
must be eleven! Onza
is eleven, and they prob-
ably say A las onzas, at
the elevens!"
"Whereas we were at

mured her papa, show-
ing that he was in the
best of spirits, since he
permitted himself a poor
They decided to go
out and explore the
A RAGGED HIDALGO. streets until almuerzo,
and reserve the Cathedral for the long afternoon; so they sallied
forth, Miss Lejeune armed with her sketch-book, sighing for Mary
who was always her companion in this pursuit.
Every step brought something amusing before their eyes. The
very beggars in Spain wear their cloaks like hidalgos. They were
constantly meeting Don Caesar de Bazan and all his family.


"Tommy! You ought to draw. Stop! I will give you this
extra book and some charcoal. You must!"
"I cannot sketch," said Tommy sheepishly; but he took the
things, and afterwards made a very good attempt at a dog sitting
They all established themselves in an old arched doorway, look-
ing through at a picturesque court. Mr. Horner kept guard, and
Bessie sat by with a book, though she did not read much, while
Miss Lejeune rapidly washed in effects in water colors.
They were soon surrounded by half the town of Burgos; not
only boys, but women with babies, and grown men, and above all,
dogs, who pushed in close to them to investigate, and were
recalled by their owners; the crowd behaved very well, and
expressed themselves in half whispers, of which the first word
intelligible was "perro;" they said it so often, and the dogs advanced
so often, that the travellers soon put their ideas together. Bessie
pointed at a dog and said inquiringly, Perro?" Si Sefiorina," re-
plied the ragged boy, and smiled a smile Murillo has often painted,
showing all his Spanish teeth.
The favorite hero of Spain is the Cid, Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar,
the most prominent figure in Spanish literature. The name is so
obscured by myth and fable as to be almost lost to history. No
doubt such a man lived, but so many impossible deeds have been
ascribed to him, that it is hard to select the true ones. There
are, indeed, a Cid of history and a Cid of romance, very differ-
ent from each other, but both exerting a singular influence
in developing the national genius.
The Cid of history is still the hero of the early period of the
struggle between Christian and Mohammedan, and a good type of
the Spanish Goth of the twelfth century. Rodrigo Diaz, better
known by this Arab title of "the Cid" (el Seid, the lord), was
of a noble family. The date of his birth is uncertain, but it was
probably between Io30 and Io40, during the reign of Fernando the
First, a great and wise prince, under whom the tide of Moslem conquest
was first checked. He possessed a large dominion in Spain, but on


his death it was divided
among his five sons. Cas-
tile fell to one, Leon to
another, and other prov-
inces to the rest. Not long
before, the Moorish pos-
sessions had been broken
up into numerous petty
states, and hence there was
quarrelling of every de-
scription, between brother
and sister, between Cas-
tilian and Galician, as
well as between Christian
and Moslem. No condition
of affairs could be more
favorable to the genius of
a warrior. The Cid first
rose to distinction in a
contest between two San-
chos of Castile and Navarre,
in which he won his
name of Campeador, the
champion, by slaying the
champion of the enemy in
single combat. After this,
he was entrusted with high
commissions, and fought
many a battle for his king,
then Alphonso the Sixth;
in 1074 he was wedded to
Ximena, a royal princess.
The original deed of the
marriage contract is in
existence. But his great



prowess and' many successes raised up enemies who found it easy
to kindle the jealousy of the king. He was accused of keeping
back for himself part of the tribute he had won for the king,
who took advantage of his absence on a raid against the Moors,
to banish him from Castile.
Henceforth Rodrigo begun upon the career which has made him
famous, fighting on his own account, sometimes under the Christian
banner, sometimes under Moorish and sometimes against both. Among
his enterprises, the most famous was that against Valencia, which
he took, after a nine months' siege, in 1094. This was the rich-
est prize snatched from the Moors, for Valencia was then the
most flourishing city on the Peninsula. The Cid took it for his
own kingdom, and ruled it according to his own will, with vigor
and justice, for four years. At length the party of the Moors
most powerful at that time, the Almoravides, whom he had several
times beaten, marched against him in great force, and his army
was crushed. The blow was a fatal one to the now aged and
war-worn Campeador, and he died of grief and anger, in July,
1099. He was buried in a monastery in the neighborhood of
Burgos, with his wife Ximena. There, in the centre of a small
chapel, surrounded by his chief companions in arms, still rest, after
frequent disturbances from friend and foe, the bones of this mighty
warrior, the genuine Spanish hero, the embodiment of the virtues
and vices of his time.
Philip the Second made an effort to have him canonized, but Rome
objected, and not without reason. Whatever were his qualities as
a fighter, the Cid was not of the right material to make a saint,-
a man who battled against Christian and Moslem with equal zeal,
who burnt churches and mosques alike, who ravaged, plundered and
slew for a livelihood as much as for any patriotic or religious
purpose, and who was, in fact, about as much of a Musselman as
a Christian in his habits and character.
This is the Rodrigo of history. The Cid of romance, of legend
and drama, is a different character, invested with all the attributes
of a grand hero. He is the type of all knightly virtue, the mirror


of patriotic duty, the flower of all Christian grace. He is Roland
and Bayard in one. From the time of his actual life he has been
the subject of song, and within a. hundred years from his death
he had become the centre of a whole system of myths. The cel-
ebrated poem of the Cid was written in the latter half of the
twelfth century; there are hundreds of ballads relating to him,
some of them full of simplicity and fire. His horse Bavieca, and
his sword La Colada, are as famous as himself.
Although the glory of the Cid spreads all over Spain, it is at


Burgos that the interest in him centres, since it is there that he
was born, and there that his bones actually repose. When the
Horners were going through the Cathedral, they were shown in a
side chapel a heavy wooden coffer supported high up against the
wall upon iron brackets. It is a worn-out, worm-eaten old box, and
looks like the grandfather of all trunks. This is the celebrated
Cofre del Cid; one of two trunks which he once left as security


with a Jewish banker, for a loan of six hundred marks, assuring
them they contained all his jewels and gold, but that they were
not to open them until his return. The true contents of the boxes
were sand and rubbish, heavy enough to deceive the bankers. If
he came back and paid the sum he had borrowed, this was all
very well; there is no proof that he ever restored principal or
rendered interest, but we will hope that he did so.
Tommy asked why the coffer was thus suspended on high, and
the guide told him it was to keep it out of reach of too eager
tourists and admirers of the Cid, who could not resist splitting off
little bits of the wood as mementos, when it was within their

_IX ~ j ~~~t4 I~~;




W HILE they were eating almuerzo, a merry meal in the dining-
room above stairs, with a mixed collection of travellers from
various countries, all finding fault with the dishes in a variety of
languages, Miss Lejeune said, If each one of our fellow-guests had
what he wishes to eat set before him, what a mixed menu it would
make! "
"Yes!" exclaimed Tommy; "liver, sausage and macaroni and
baked beans and edible bird'snests."
"0 come, Tommy, there are no Chinese here!" said Bessie.
"No, but very likely some one would order it for a delicacy."
Quite right, my young friend," said a stout German next
Tommy, who understood a little English, and thought he could
speak it; "most peoples shall tink him own dish what most nasty
to all nations."
The sentiment was good, although obscured by its imperfect expres-
sion. Tommy controlled his face, and waited till they had all left
the room before he repeated the sentence to his family.
After very good black coffee, the Horners sallied forth to see
the Cathedral, through the picturesque streets, always admiring the
groups of beggars. They surrendered themselves, though reluctantly,
to a guide, as they had not much time to spare. Such a guide
is at once the stay and torment of sight-seekers. He pesters
them with gabble, drags them to see things they do not want to
see; he makes them stand staring at worthless relics, and tears
them away from the contemplation of a masterpiece. He is igno-
rant of art, history, men and manners, and yet assumes superiority






over travellers because he knows, and they do not, the way around
his one cathedral. It is delightful to dispense with the services of
any guide, and driving off the swarms of them that come buzzing
about, to explore the intricacies of a town, a church, or cathedral,
according to one's own sweet will; then every new object seems
a discovery, snatched from the whole collection of wonders. The
tourist can make his own decision upon the merits of a work
of art, and follow undisturbed the thread of thought it awakes.
This course can best be pursued when there are several days to
be spent in one place, and time enough to spare for the loss of
it, which is sure to come from turning the wrong corner, mistak-
ing the point of view, and thus dilating with the wrong emotion.
A wily old valet de place leads his victims straight to head-
quarters. He really does know best what they wish or what they
ought to see, indeed, the thing that makes him so disagreeable is
that he does know more than they do. Then he has keys to
locked-up chapels, or can procure them, and he knows the short-
est way round the building. The quickest way is to surrender to
him entirely, go everywhere he suggests, believe everything he
says, for the moment. This was the Horners' plan up to a cer-
tain point, when often after a tramp of several hours, they some-
times "bolted" unexpectedly, and, to the astonishment of the
hitherto flattered guide, absolutely refused to stir another step,
demanding to be restored to their hotel.
Matters reached no such extreme at Burgos. They found their
way alone to the Cathedral easily, and there fell into the hands
of a mild, mechanical man who could do a little routine English.
He trotted them round the place, showing everything, and was
neither too loquacious nor too persistent.
The Cathedral of Burgos is undoubtedly one of the finest in
Europe; a grand specimen of the thirteenth-century Gothic. If,
since it is the first Cathedral studied, after entering Spain from
Bayonne, it is overlaid by other impressions in the mind of the
tourist who presses on to Andalusia and the wonder of Seville
and Grenada, yet nevertheless, in the quiet hours of repose when


the journey is over, the vision of it comes back in all its force
and purity.
The towers and pinnacles are open work, and in the distance
they are seen against the blue sky like filigree work, and at night
stars can be seen through them. The Cathedral is somewhat shut
in, as it is built on uneven ground, surrounded by poor little
houses; and the Archbishop's palace is so close to it, as to form,
as it were, a part of the same building; and on the opposite side
a good impression of the inward arrangement can be had from the
After studying for some time the innumerable statues of angels,
martyrs, warriors and princes which adorn the facade, our little
party entered the immense building, and stood silent before the
grandeur of the interior. It was impossible to do more at first
than to look silently around, following the lines of the columns,
and curves of the arches, while a vague delight and wonder came
filling the mind.
After a little while Mr. Horner came nearer to Miss Lejeune,
and said softly:
"This is the real thing!"
Oh, yes!" she replied. "It satisfies all my requirements for a
Spanish cathedral."
It was many minutes before they felt inclined to do more than
to move about, receiving, without analyzing, the effect of the vast
proportions of the whole, graceful at the same time, and harmonious,
until the guide became impatient, and they followed him about to
the different chapels, each itself like a church, in richness and
variety. In each is entombed some great personage, with his
recumbent statue extended in the middle, the head upon a pillow,
and the hands clasped upon his breast, priests clothed in their
festival robes, warriors in armor, princesses in regal attire; and
all surrounded with a profusion of carvings, gold decorations cover-
ing the walls, altars and ceilings; every chapel contains an army
of angels and saints cut in marble or wood, painted, gilded,


It is this splendor and richness of decoration which distin-
guishes the cathedrals of Spain; gold, color, carving, and everywhere,
and yet there is nothing either gaudy or tawdry in the effect, for
all at the same
time is sombre
and grand, per-
haps because the
proportions are
so large, but
more because it
is all genuine
work. After the
solemn sincerity
of these cathe-
drals, at the
same time full
of richness and
warmth, that of
Cologne seems
cold and bare,
and the decora-
tions of the
modern French
churches flimsy.
Descriptions of
cathedrals are al-
ways tedious to
those who have
not seen them,
and it will not
reader with a detailed account of all the Horners visited. Their
general impression of richness and grandeur lasted all through
their expedition in Spain. It was 'at Burgos that Bessie first removed
her idea of "doing a cathedral" from the category of idle sight-


seeing, to mat of the most thorough enjoyments of travelling.
They looked with wonder at the celebrated Cristo de Burgos,
which is said by tradition to have been carved by Nicodemus
shortly after the burial of our Lord. It was found, according to
the legend, inside a box, floating in the sea, and after many
adventures, it finally was brought from this cathedral to a convent.
It is certainly of very early date, and admirably modelled, with a
deep expression of pain; the hair, beard, eyelashes, etc., are all
real. With strange taste, the image is clothed with a small
embroidered petticoat.
Even Tommy liked this cathedral better than most he had seen
in his travels, because as he ex-
pressed it, "the side-shows were
all first-rate." The clocks of the
S cathedral are furnished with small
figures, which come out as the
ST hour strikes, like the famous one
at Berne. About one of these the
-'T sacristan told them this legend, in
a broken sort of French, which
S made it more impressive.
It was about a king of Spain,
% Enrique the Third, who lived in
.--_; the fifteenth century, and a young
girl who used to see him frequently
in the cathedral, although no word
was ever exchanged between them at their meetings.
One day in leaving the church, the young unknown dropped her
handkerchief. The king picked it up and gave it to her, when the
fair one disappeared and was seen no more. A year after, the
king became lost in the woods one time, and was attacked by six
hungry wolves; he killed three of them with his sword, but after
that he began to feel tired; and he was about to be devoured by
the others, when suddenly he heard the sound of a gun, and a
strange cry, at which the three wolves fled. He turned round and


beheld the young woman he had seen in the cathedral. He advanced
towards her, when she said with a strange smile, "I love the
memory of the Cid so much that I love all that is great and
noble; thus I have wished to consecrate to you my life. Accept
the sacrifice."
As she spoke thus she fell dying to the ground, pressing to her
heart the king's handkerchief.
The king, moved by such devotion, wished to honor the memory
of his preserver, and hit upon the singular plan of putting an image
into a clock in the cathedral, which at every hour should remind
him of the cry of the girl in the forest. He wished the figure to
repeat the very words she used, but the skill of the Moorish artist
of that period was not up to the idea, and he achieved only a
puppet of life-size, which made a kind of shriek when its time
came. It caused so much amusement afterwards to the irreverent,
and disturbance to the faithful, that its springs were broken by the
order of the ruling bishop, and ever since the puppet has been
Spain is full of legends and romances, which seem worth listening
to on the spot, however absurd they become when transferred from
their natural surroundings. The Cid still lives. Roderick the Goth
is a fact, and as for the Moors, they assert their rightful claim to
the soil everywhere, while Ferdinand and Isabella appear like mon-
sters who drove them from their inheritance. The defects in the
Moorish morality are forgotten, and they figure as martyrs to the




HORTLY before nine P. M., after another meal in the up-
stairs dining-room, the Horers climbed again into the
mule-bus and started off to the station. They had seen the empty
vehicle every time they went in or out of the hotel, for it was



kept out in the street before the door, hard by the mules in their
stable under the house.
Mr. Horner, and even Miss Lejeune, were a little low in their
minds on account of anticipating the long night journey which
was before them. This is the great drawback of travelling in
Spain. The through trains all fly by night like bats, and turn
and twist as you may, and thumb your time tables o'er and o'er,
there is no method of evading the discomfort. The party all had
such a passion for looking out of windows at the scenery, wherever
they were, that it was a positive loss to them to pass over so
nuch ground in the dark, and this regret was added to the dis-


comfort of a night's journey. However, it was n~ot o be helped.
After a little futile inquiry for wagons-lits, which are supposed to
exist, but which are always on some other line than the roe where
they are wanted, they
settled themselves into
their corners, with
through tickets for
Madrid, facing the
prospect of eleven
hours and a half shut
ilp in their carriage. -
They were all so
tired after a day of
busy sight-seeing that
they felt sure of a
good nap to begin
with, -nd so without
their usual lively chat,
they prepared for the
night, opening the
straps and disposing of
rugs and shawls as
best they could in the
way of pillows and
coverings. Luckily
there was no one else
in the carriage, as
Miss Lejeune observed
with thankfulness.
"So I can make
myself a3 hidec-as as
I please," she added.
This she proceeded ,
to do ny tvym a blue ,
veil tignt across ner FLOWERING ALOE.


forehead, and bringing the ends around under her chin, after
which she crammed herself back into a corner with her feet up and
well tucked in. They had drawn the thin silk curtain across the
hole in the top of the carriage through which the gleam came
from a dim lamp, but some little light still made itself felt.
"I love to look at you, aunt Gus," said Bessie sleepily; "you
look like a mysterious blue sphinx in that corner off there. The
veil is very becoming so."
"I am glad you are my only admirer just now," replied Miss
Lejeune gloomily.
Tommy was apparently fast asleep in the position with which he
had first dropped; but he suddenly exclaimed:
"What has become of the H. family! We saw nothing of them
at Burgos!"
"To be sure !" cried Bessie, waked up by the question. "They
must be lost. We have not seen them since Irun! Papa, have
you seen them?"
Hm-m-m," was the sole reply of her father.
"Hush, Bessie," said Miss Lejeune; "your father is asleep already."
"Valladolid!" he murmured in a thick and sleepy voice.
"Do you suppose," said Bessie, now in a much lower tone, "that
they went on to Valladolid without stopping at all at Burgos? They
must be idiots!"
"You don't know, my dear. I believe Valladolid is very inter-
esting, or they may have special reasons."
"She looked like an artist, the tall one," said Bessie; "are there
pictures at Valladolid ?"
"Do shut up!" barked Tommy; "can't you let a fellow
sleep ?"
The remonstrance though inelegant was just, and Bessie, without
resenting it, closed her lips and eyes at once.
So they all travelled to Madrid through the Land of Nod, for nod
it is, with the jar and jolt of the train. All was silence in every
compartment as the long train swept through the darkness, occa-o
sionally stopping with a jerk at a station, then starting off with


another jerk. The four were not often all asleep at the same
.time. Each had his or her periods of misery, when a change of
position was absolutely necessary. There was a twist and a turn,
a thumping of pillows, and then the weary head fell down again
in a new posture, not better, perhaps, but at least different.
Once they were all awake but Tommy, who slept straight through
like a top. They compared watches, and found it was only half-
past twelve. The night seemed endless; and when it came to an
end, the journey did
not. At dawn they
bestirred themselves
and looked out upon
the landscape. It
was raining steadily,
and the country was
wild and barren in
the extreme, without
verdure or vegeta-
tion; huge piles of
irregular rocks were SPANISH MILK JUGS.
tumbled about, with
here and there a scrubby pine. Salvator Rosa might have painted
a bit anywhere, into which a bandit with his gun would have
come very naturally.
How the Horners felt is well known to those who themselves
have waked up at dawn in a railway carriage with the prospect of
several hours more travel. Their mouths were parched, their cheeks
hot, their heads dishevelled, their limbs all stiff and cramped: and
they were faint for want of coffee or something refreshing. The
lunch-box had chocolate in it, dried ginger and a few sweet biscuit;
but Tommy was the only one who found these things at all accept-
A woman at a station was calling "Leche! leche!" and Mr.
Horner bought from the window in exchange for a very small coin,
a lovely red jug containing goat's milk. He and Tommy liked it,


really, but M ss Lejeune shook her head without trying it, and Bessie
shuddered a.[er one taste, and took no more.
How stupid you are not to like milk," said Tommy crossly.
Tommy was rather cross, but nobody minded it. They were too
uncomfortable to mind it.
It is milk that does not like me," said Bessie meekly. "I have
no objection to it."
As the light strengthened, their spirits rose somewhat by the
gloomy interest of the wet and dripping landscape. The famous


Escorial was passed upon their left, they swept through the last long
tunnel, and saw Madrid in the distance, nearing fast, the royal palace
crowning the height in front
The scene at the station was muct like any other European
experience. Everything showed that they had reached a large
cosmopolitan centre. Cabs and omnibuses were in attendance, and
they were soon passing through a gateway to ascend the steep,


hill leading to the town. An official stopped them at the entrance-
gate, and fumbled with their hand-bags; but it was only a brief
formality, and soon they found themselves in comfortable rooms at
the Hotel de la Paix, on the beautiful Puerta del Sol.
"Puerta del Sol," said Tommy, who had recovered all his anima-


tion and usual politeness. "I thought it was the name of the
"So did I, to tell the truth," said his father; "or at least my
ideas were not clear about it."
"Oh, papa! you must have known that the Puerta del Sol was
a beautiful great square," said Bessie.
"My dear," said he smiling, "I have not been reading up on
Spain as you have. You must remember I have scarcely looked at
a map. This is your expedition and Augusta's."
This conversation was shouted across the omnibus as they


rattled along the paved street, and Miss Lejeune, who never would
speak in a noise, smiled and nodded, and significantly patted the
little parcel of guide-books and maps which she held firmly in her
It. was, in. the main, Miss Lejeune who had laid out the plan of
the Spanish excursion. She had long longed for the Peninsula. In
her youth, long ago, the house of a friend who married a Spanish
explorer, was filled with curiosities, which he had brought home,
and the acquaintance with these things thus early planted in
her mind a strong wish to visit the country; there were engrav-
ings from Velasquez, terra cotta images of matadors, mantas of
glowing stripes, and salvers or beaten brass, all of which helped to
make the desire grow. As time went on, she gained an under-
lying conviction that sometime she was to go to Spain. She
trifled a little with the language, and even went through a
grammar. The chances which had led her several times over
Europe, and to the East, had not been favorable until now, when
she was really about to visit her long-established Chateaux en
Espagne, with those dear Horners, 'who now furnished her life
with its chief enjoyment. She was very happy in being thus
able to carry out her dream, and in being allowed to have her
own way about it, too.
Miss Lejeune had omitted Valladolid in her plan, as it was
wise to press on towards the south before the weather should
become too hot. But Valladolid is an interesting place which might
well be used to break the long journey from Burgos to Madrid.
It was for a long time the residence of the kings of Castile,
and later, in the time of Philip the Second, who was born there,
it was the most prosperous city in Spain. It was he, however, who
removed the court to Madrid, and this proved a death blow to
the prosperity of the deserted city.
The Museum and Cathedral contain some interesting pictures
and sculpture. The Cathedral was never finished on the scale
intended by Herrera, the architect of Philip the Second, who made the
designs for it, and began it, because he was called to Madrid in


order to build the Escorial; and when the court went to Madrid,
no funds were forthcoming to finish the abandoned Cathedral, and
so it was merely put into condition to be used, as it was, for
public service. The libraries contain some rare old books; and the
streets, like all Spanish towns, are full of picturesque subjects for






N excellent French
waiter, with a white
S cravat, and a napkin under
his arm, came to take their
orders' so there was no
occasion for Spanish yet,-
and soon returned bring-
ing a broad plateau, or tray,
loaded with refreshing coffee,
hot milk, chocolate for Tom-
Smy, bread and butter and
S boiled eggs, for which Mr.
Horner stipulated. Although
his whole family were fond
of the European system of
eating little or nothing early
in the morning, Mr. Hor-
ner retained a secret prej-
COAT OF ARMS. udice in favor of something
solid, and, whenever he could, he added oeufs h l ca oque to the order.
What was more, he generally found that all the eggs were eaten; more
than one, then, must share his secret preference, for Tommy and he
could not eat them all. But Miss Lejeune and Bessie, in Spain, kept
up the theory maintained by all the rest in previous journeys, that
they wished nothing but bread and butter with the coffee. The Hotel
de la Paix is a large French hotel. Miss Lejeune and Bessie


shared a room with two high beds placed end to end, filling up
the whole of one, side. Upon a great round table which took up
the middle of the room, coffee was served, and Mr. Horner and
Tommy joined the ladies to partake of it. Their own room was
close at hand, smaller, but with the same view. The large windows all
had projecting balconies, from which they could look sideways
toward the Puerta del Sol, -although the rooms looked upon
a narrow side street.
As soon as Bessie had refreshed herself with one cup of cof-
fee, she went to the window and established herself there, roll in
hand, that she might lose none of the wonders of the new city
while she was eating. All the windows had balconies, and many
of them striped awnings. Opposite, and somewhat lower, a barber
had a little bird with a red tuft on its head, hopping about with
a long string to its leg. Within the room Bessie could see the
barber, shaving; but from time to time, he left his customer to
come and see the bird, with his cigarette in his mouth; kissed his
hand to it, puffed a little smoke in its face, to console it for
being tied, and went in again. A hand-organ below was playing
charming Spanish dance-music. A still narrower street, a mere
lane, in fact, opened nearly opposite them. It was swarming with
people in strange colors, and a group had collected at the corner
to listen to the announcement of a bull-fight. This was Sunday,
and the great square was filled with people, the women with man-
tillas on their head, and fans in their hands instead of parasols. The
fashionable ladies are giving up the pretty mantilla for Paris bon-
nets, which is a great pity, for a bonnet does not look right on
a Spanish fair one; but it is still the rule to wear the mantilla
to church, so that in the morning the streets of Madrid are filled
with devotional mantillas, while later on in the day only foolish French
hats prevail.
Suddenly Bessie called out, "Oh, come! come quick!" and the
others reached the balcony in time to see the end of a cavalcade
of royal guards in white bounmous, following the king's carriages.
Bessie had seen the whole; a string of carriages with outriders,


postilions, and much gold ornarient, followed by mounted guards.
It was his Majesty going to church.
These excitements, however, could not make the travellers forget
their fatigue. It is the worst part of night travelling, that it unfits
one for much sight-seeing the next day, and thus the time is as
much lost as it would be in the train. While Mr. Horner and
Tommy went out to find their bankers, Miss Lejeune and Bessie
were refreshed with delicious baths, which were to be had in this
hotel. The others returned with their hands full of letters from
America, England, and Luz, the little place in the Pyr6nees where
were Mary, Philip and their mother.
"Oh, how splendid!" exclaimed Bessie, as she took her share.
"But I am so sleepy that I must go to bed, and read them
afterward. Is everybody well, papa? she asked, for she saw the
well-known handwriting of her mother upon the sheet he was
"Perfectly; and they seem very happy there," he answered.
"I must write them volumes," she continued; "but how hard
it will be when we want to be in the streets all the time!"
"You had better take long naps, both of you," said Mr. Horner,
"and Tommy, too. Almuerzo is eleven, and after that we can drive
or walk."
Mr. Horner had letters of introduction to several people in
Madrid, but he did not deliver them at this time. It was their
plan to come back to Madrid later, after taking their fill of
Andalusia, and the southern wonders of Spain.
Nevertheless, they wished to see all they could of the national
capital this time, and in the afternoon, thoroughly refreshed by
sleep, and almuerzo, and with glowing and grateful hearts, because
of good news in all their letters, they took an open carriage to
drive about Madrid.
Their driver was a Madrilefio, but with the help of a few words
of explanation given him by the sportier, who spoke everything,
before starting, they made him understand that they wished to see
the principal points of interest within the city.


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The Puerta del Sol, the central square of Madrid, is a large
sunny space with a fountain in the middle, wide streets and broad
sidewalks surrounding it, and tall handsome buildings on all sides,
chiefly hotels with gay shops on the street-floor. There are tracks
for the ferro-carril, tramway, or horse-cars, as we call them; besides,
in Madrid, there are large heavy vehicles like horse-cars, which go
where they please; not on any track. The plaza and streets leading
from it are so wide that these cars do not encumber them, nor
interfere materially with the crowds of gay equipages which throng
them, especially on Sunday, when all the world is going to the
Bull Ring.
The Horners were not going to the Bull Ring, but their carriage
joined the gay crowd sweeping in that direction, along the slope of
the Calle de Alcala, passing the Fountain of Cibeles, where they
turned to drive along the Prado, a broad, beautiful avenue planted
with trees and ornamented with fountains, whose plashing water
sparkled in the sun. Iron chairs were placed in rows, which could
be hired for a trifling sum, by any one wishing to rest. Here
first the Horners observed the "cooling-drinks shops,"-booths where
all sorts of refreshing and not intoxicating drinks are sold. The
Spanish have an extreme fondness for this harmless refreshment.
The number of such places shows the demand for them. The
venders call out, "Aqua fresca como la nieve" (water cool as snow),
and for a very small coin they will furnish a glass of something
cold and sweet, flavored with strange essences. Tommy's favorite
was korchata de chufas, a very superior beverage of a milky appear-
ance, and a flavor something like orgeat. All these drinks are
very mild, and are but slightly tinged with the flavoring substance.
There has to be a good deal of "make-believe," as in the case of
the lemonade of the Marchioness, in order to discover what one is
tasting. It gives a pleasant impression of the moderation in the
taste of a people which contents itself with such mild refreshment,
instead of the heavy lager which the German loves, or the fiery
drinks of all Northern nations.
The booths where these things are furnished are kept by some


old woman, very friendly, offering chairs, or perhaps a small girl,
hardly tall enough to reach across her counter. The water used is
in tall jars, porous, to keep the water cool by perspiration, a thing
the Horners had learned to understand on the Nile.
It was much later that the children became learned in coolit.g

I1l l-- ^^---- 7 :- 7


drinks. On that first day they only wondered at the little stalls
where they were sold.
There were so many things to see that they could not fasten
their attention upon any one set of impressions. Their heads were
turning from side to side, to catch glimpses of fine horses dashing
by them;-ladies in full costume, mantilla and fan, leaning back in
Lheir open carriages, fountains, monuments, fine buildings, set their
brains in a whirl.


Madrid is said to have little or nothing Spanish about it; to be
a feeble imitation of Paris; in short, only a second-rate European
metropolis. The Horners did not agree, with, this verdict, for: they
.found it marked, on the contrary, with great individuality. The
streets and modern buildings are after the manner of French
models, undoubtedly, but there is a Southern swing in the life and
movement of the sun-bathed city ; and though the population has
a European character in its dress, many picturesque costumes are
to be seen. The equipages and horses exhibit an amount of


wealth, taste and extravagance at least equal to that of any city of
the same size in Europe.
They passed the facade of the Royal Museum, which contains
the famous picture gallery, promising themselves, on their return


from Andalusia, many visits to its treasures. It is a modern
building with columns, imposing in appearance, though perhaps too
low for its great length. It was fitted up for pictures in the early
part of this century; the collection of splendid works of art it
contains makes it perhaps the finest gallery in the world.
They drove through the Buen Retiro, a pleasant shady promenade
planted with hedges of lilac and other spring flowers, still in bloom.
Their driver brought them back by a turn quite around the town,
that they might see the outside of the handsome Royal Palace,
and through the Plaza del Oriente, where is a fine equestrian statue
of Philip the Fourth on his war charger. The design was by
Velasquez, and Galileo is said to have suggested the means by
which the balance is preserved. The horse is rearing so high that
this is affected only by having the front part hollow, and the back




AS they were coming back to their hotel through the steep
and somewhat narrow Calle Mayor, a train of royal carriages
passed them. At first, Bessie and Tommy thought they were to
meet his Majesty face to face, but it was only the royal baby
returning from her airing, in two carriages, with postilions and
outriders. The poor little thing, although wrapped about in rich
robes of soft white, looked as helpless as any other mortal child.
She is an object for sympathy rather than envy, because she is
" princess, when she should have been a prince, heir to the
throne upon which her papa finds his seat somewhat unsteady.
It is now nine years since Alphonso the Twelfth was proclaimed
'ing at Madrid. He is the eldest son of Isabella the Second, herself
the daughter of King Ferdinand the Seventh, and of Princess Marie
Christine of the two Sicilies. Isabella was proclaimed queen in 1833,
when she was but three years old. Ten years later, when she was
thirteen, she was declared to be of age by a decree of the Cortes, and
was married not long after to her first cousin, Francisco, a son of
the brother of King Ferdinand the Seventh. It might seem that
the eldest son of parents, both of whom have a claim to the throne,
would have made his way to it, without opposition, in the due
course of events; but this has not been the case. On the contrary,
civil war raged from the time of Isabella's accession to the throne
up to the moment when her son was placed upon it, and ever
since politicians and patriots have watched with anxiety the doubtful
experiment of a government under the present constitution,--a
monarchy shorn of the splendors which formerly added so muck
to the presence of a king, and closely restricted in its powers


The constitution declares Alphonso the Twelfth of Bourbon, wo be
'he legitimate king of Spain. His person is inviolable, but his minis-
.-:s are responsible, and all his orders must be countersigned by a
minister. There is a Cortes, which shares tne power of the king,


composed like our Congress, of two legislative bodies. The Senate
is composed of sons of kings and other personages, and the
Congress of Deputies chosen by the people.
Thus it will be seen, that the plan is to have the government as
free as that of a Republic, while the head of it is called a king, and
he is permitted to be the head on account of his hereditary rights,
instead of being the choice of the people; yet he would not remain
at the head for an instant without the assent of the public. A
country which from all time has been governed by kings, probably
feels more at ease under the nominal rule of a monarch; at 4 this
is the present condition of things in Spain. Republican government
has been tried more than once in the tempestuous period since the


death of Ferdinand, in 1833; and it is because all lovers of
Spanish prosperity feel that the only hope for Spain is. in a period
of peace and tranquility, that there is a general hope for a
continuance of the experiment by which Alphonso and his dynasty
may be firmly established upon the throne. For this reason, a little
prince would be hailed with delight as heir to the throne. The
Spaniards would be kindled to something like enthusiasm for a
future king, born in a peaceful period, of the line of inherited
royalty; so the disappointment was great when a little princess
appeared into the world. She should have been a prince, and this
is why the Horners called her the poor little princess, in spite of
her having a duchess for governess, and outriders before and
behind when she takes her little airing.
"How stupid of her not to be a prince!" said Tommy, when
these things were being explained to him.
"She cannot help it," said Bessie, "and it is a shame that
people should not be just as fond. of her as fifty boys."
"I dare say her papa aud mamrra are fond of her," said Miss
Lejeune; "it is only the public that is disappointed. Very likely she
will have a much happier life than a little prince would have done.
In the first place she will not be spoiled," -
"Nor fussed over about her health," continued Bessie, "nor made
to wear crowns and carry sceptres. I. dare say she will live to
a peaceful old age, with plenty to eat and drink, and good clothes,
in a comfortable palace all her life."
"And paint very nicely in water-colors," added Miss Lejeune.
It is perhaps necessary to touch briefly upon the troubles in
Spain which have brought the nation to this fervent desire for
peace and repose on any terms.
Ferdinand the Seventh was an unworthy, contemptible king; one of
the worst specimens of the Bourbon type. His father, Charles
the Fourth, abdicated the throne in terror, the nineteenth of March,
1808, when Napoleon's army was marching upon Madrid, and announced
his son Ferdinand as his successor; whom, too, Napoleon forced to
abdicate, for as usual, it was his plan to furnish his own king to


Spain; and Joseph Bonaparte entered Madrid and took possession
of the throne. But this could not be allowed to last. The
opposition of the Spaniards was enforced by the arrival of ten
thousand English troops in Portugal, under Sir Arthur Wellesley,
who now for the first time began that resistance to Napoleon
which, as Wellington, he crowned at Waterloo. The struggle in
Spain lasted six years, but by
That time the invincible legions
.. of Napoleon were defeated. During
w d this time the Emperor himself
X n descended upon Madrid; Sir John
Moore was defeated and killed,
the wonderful siege of Saragossa
took place, when the resisting
Spaniards, conducted by Palafox,
J s and inspired by the maid of Sara-
gossa, held out fifty days against
the French, and many another dis-
aster fell upon one army or the
FERDINAND VII. other; but in the end the French
were driven out, and left the country after the famous battle
of Vittoria, June, 1813, when Wellington, as Sir Arthur Wellesley
had already become, ended the contest.
Joseph was deposed, Ferdinand was reinstated. At the same
time another Bourbon prince, Louis the Eighteenth returned to rule
in France, for Napoleon's career was over.
But a worthless prince, like Ferdinand, had no power, if he had
inclination, to heal the wounds of a country bleeding after the
contest of six years. Civil war broke out, and with it came misery,
famine and ruin. Ferdinand was carried off to Cadiz a prisoner
by his subjects, but was again liberated by a foreign army, this
time from France. It was after this that he married his fourth
wife, Maria Christina, 1829, his own niece. In 1830, their daughter
Isabella was born. It will not now appear surprising that this
princess was not at the time regarded with much affection. Her


chance of reigning was but slight, although at her birth the law
allowed women to succeed; but it was comparatively modern, and
all Spanish prejudice was, and is, in favor of the Salic law,
by which a woman can reign only in default of male heirs. Now
the king had a brother whose claim was fairly good to the throne;
who moreover had sons in plenty to furnish heirs, one of whom,
Don Carlos, born in 1788, had an absolute right to the throne in
default of male heirs.
This is the foundation of the so-called Carlist War, which lasted
up to the time of Alphonso's arrival upon the throne. Ferdinand
died shortly after the
birth of Isabella, but her
mother, Christina, was
very popular as regent,
and in her name the
contest was carried on.
During this time the
state of the country was
so unsettled that travel-
ling. was almost impos-
sible. Lawlessness pre- b
failed, brigands were free .
to attack and carry off
people they met, and hold I-"
them for treason. All ./ ,j 1
internal improvements
were at a standstill, and
high-roads and railways were far behind the general standard of
All this has greatly changed for the better, and tourists, even
if indifferent to the welfare of the Spanish race, must be grateful
to the present state of order which renders travelling as easy and
comfortable as in any part of Europe, making allowance for certain
drawbacks made inevitable by long distances.
The Carlist contest, after many successes and defeats, came to an end


in i84o. Isabella the Second came herself to the throne, and there
was again hope of repose for the country; but she was quite
unworthy to govern, being incapable of governing herself; a series
of ministers held the affairs of state. Although some of them were
of the first order of capacity to deal well with difficult matters,
there came a time when Isabella was driven from the throne into
exile; a provisional government was formed, and every plan was
suggested for a permanent one; and finally a new king was elected,
by the Cortes, the Duke of Aosta, Amadeo, son of Victor Emman-
uel. He was invested with the
royal dignities on the second of
January, 1871 ; but not later than
February, 1873, he abdicated,
having found it impossible to
govern constitutionally in Spain;
his life had been attempted, his
queen was rudely treated by the
S.* grand Spanish ladies, and he was
conspicuously unpopular with the
people. Thus was shown the
strange spectacle of the throne
of Spain, which was once the
seat of the greatest powe', and
also the centre of the splendor
of the world, abandoned vol-
untarily by the occupant chosen for it!
Then came what was called republican government. Almost any
one who was willing to try his hand at playing Presi lent might
have a chance. The reaction from this chaotic state of things
brought about the coming of the present king, a thoroughly edu-
cated prince, brought up far away from his ignoble mother, in
France and England.
His life has been a sad one in one respect. He was first married
to his cousin Mercedes, the daughter of the Duke of Montpensier,
a young lady said by all to have been sweet and lovely, and sin-


cerely loved by her husband. She died, and he is now married to
an Austrian princess, Maria Christina, who is the mother of the
little girl the Horners saw, and of another princess who was born
afterwards, in the summer of 1882.
It has been for those who have lived through the period we have
just been touching upon, so confusing to follow in brief newspaper
bulletins the ups and downs of the Spanish peninsula, that some out-
siders are, like the Horners, but ill-informed upon the subject. As
they were now in the country, they found it interesting as well as
desirable to study up the subject, and the result of their researches
is what is here given.

1S~sL~nb~:1r8 4.s




JUST as the Horners drove up to
the door of the hotel, through
the plaza crowded with people, they
had the luck to see the king and
all his suite, driving by on their
0 return from the bull-fight. The
bull-fight was late, the king was
late, worst of all the Horners were
late, and the table d'hote dinner
nearly over when they entered the
dining-room: only a few people
/ were lingering over dessert, or sip-
ping their coffee. The patient, assid-
uous waiters, however, cheerfully
prepared to begin all over again.
They showed them to their seats,
brought the soup, and resigned themselves to bringing back all the
courses of the long dinner.
"It is really too bad we are so late," said Miss Lejeune. I
am always sorry for the waiters."
"It is a pity, but they are used- to it," said Mr. Horner; "besides,
we could not help it, for the streets were so blocked our driver
had to go slowly."
"We did not see the king coming back, after all," said Tommy.
Just as he was speaking, a waiter who flattered himself he spoke
English, said:
"Look you now here, my master, they come!"


And sure enough, the whole royal procession swept by, out-
riders, carriages, and the long train of escorts, in handsome uniforms,
with white burnous thrown on their shoulders, more gorgeous than their
simple morning-array.
"This is doing pretty well, Tommy, to see the king twice
on your first day in Madrid!" said his father.
They went back to their dinner, and devoted themselves to it, for
they all were hungry, and it was very good. As it went on, Bessie
and Tommy began to take notice of a party lower down the table,
who were having, not a regular dinner, but a sort of supper. A
French nurse was superintending the group, which consisted of a
boy about Tommy's age, a little girl somewhat younger, and a fat and
chubby child which brandished arms and legs in the crude manner
belonging to the age of three years or less.
They had bowls of milk, and were eating bread and butter and
orange marmalade, and talking both French and English with their
mouths full.
I say, Nana," said the boy, "you might have taken us to the
bull-fight. That gentleman said at breakfast that it was the noblest
sight in the world."
The nurse replied in French, though she understood his
"I cannot take you to bull courses. When your papa comes he
can do so, if he sees fit."
"When papa comes !" the boy exclaimed impatiently. "You are
always saying that. I do not believe he ever will come!"
"Of course he will come, Hubert!" said the little girl, who had
rather a high voice, but a clear-cut English way of speaking. We
have only been two days in Madrid, and he does not know
"But I wanted him to be here when we arrived," he replied.
"It is all very well for you girls to be mewed up with Nana, but
I need the companionship of a man."
Bessie and Tommy glanced at each other with signs of amuse-
ment, when the English boy made this speech. Just then the


little child, while Nana was looking the other way, made a clutch
at a dish of oranges just out of reach. She lost her balance, having,
in fact, a somewhat insecure seat upon cushions put in a common chair
'to make it high enough. In falling, she grasped the tablecloth, and
pulled it far enough to overturn the oranges, and to set glasses, finger-


bowls, knives and forks sliding about. Nana turned at once; but
Tommy, who was nearest the party, sprang first to the rescue,
and picked up the baby almost before her head touched the ground.
Of course she was frightened, however, and screamed. The English
children tried to steady the sliding tablecloth; the waiters, who had



1' '-I -iI
/ S

1 1 1t



all retired from the scene, hurried back. The commotion was over
in a few minutes, and nothing serious had happened ; a wineglass
had broken in falling to the ground, and a good deal of water was
spilt; but that was all.
The incident served as the beginning of an acquaintance, for not
only Bessie and Tommy, but Mr. Horner and Miss Lejeune, left
their dinner to help the nurse to restore order, and to console the
children who were dismayed.
Miss Lejeune took a napkin and dried the front of the elder
girl's dress, while Nana carried off the screaming baby, saying as
she went, to the other children, rather crossly, "Come up, now, and
go to bed. This is enough trouble for one day."
"Go to bed!" said Hubert. "Not I. I shall go out and walk
in the Puerta del Sol."
Seeing the children thus left to themselves, Mr. Horner ventured
to ask them if they were alone.
"Why, yes, all but Nana! Hubert explained. "We are on the
way to Gibraltar, and we left mamma at Bordeaux to go up in the
Pyr6enes. And papa was to meet us here, but we arrived first,
and there is no letter. So Nana says we must wait, which is
all very well for girls, but she does not let me go anywhere!"
"You promised mamma, Hubert," said his sister fretfully, "that
you would take care of Nana, and me, and baby."
Yes; but I did not promise to go to bed before dark!"
The boy was evidently chafed by too much petticoat government.
Tommy pitied him, and Mr. Horner was not surprised at his impa-
I'll tell you what you shall do," said Miss Lejeune. "Fanny, -
is not your name Fanny?" she paused to ask.
The little girl nodded assent.
"Run and tell Nana that we have invited you both to spend the
evening with us. You can say that Mr. Horner is an American gen-
tleman travelling through Spain;-she will be sure to let you come.
Then she can put the baby to bed, and rest herself. I do not know
what we shall do, but there is plenty to see from our windows.


Hubert's brow cleared. He put on a manly air and bowed very
politely, thanking them all for their kindness, and told Fanny to
take the message.
"My father, Colonel Vaughan, will thank you when he comes," he
Bessie went with her to show her afterwards the way to their
room, to which they all adjourned. A box of sugar plums which
Tommy had bought in the morning, served to promote ease and
hilarity. The children were soon talking together freely in the
balcony, and Miss Lejeune and Mr. Horner settled themselves at the
round table to write.
"I wonder who they are," said Miss Lejeune in a low voice
when she was quite sure the children would not overhear her. "It
seems strange that they should be alone with the nurse."
"The father is very likely stationed at Gibraltar," said Mr. Horner.
"Hubert called him Colonel Vaughan, you know. It seems rather
a loose way to look after his children to send them across Spain
with nobody but a French woman to look after them."
"There must be some special reason for it," said Miss Lejeune.
"I wonder they did not take a steamer round to Gibraltar."
"We shall learn more about it, I dare say," said Mr. Horner;
"meanwhile I am glad we can amuse them for this one evening.
I am sorry we must leave them to-morrow. By the way, Augusta,"
-and here Mr. Horner interrupted himself to look for the guide-
books and time-tables,-" I have an idea!"
What is it?" asked Miss Augusta with a smile.
"It is that we should go to Toledo now, instead of waiting till
we come back from Granada. The season is so backward that I have
no fear of the heat at the South, have you?"
"Not the least, she replied. "It is a very good plan, for we
shall then have Toledo off our minds when we come back. What
gave you this good idea? "
"It was thinking of the Goths, you see," said Mr. 'Horner,
laughing, "when- it occurred to me that it would be better to study
their great capital before going down among the Moors."


"Well, well! you
Miss Lejeune. "For
week that he had
of the map of Spain,
knows the difference
Moors! Evidently
ing up!" she added
"Not only have I
returned, "but I have
one of the gentle-
He says that Toledo
ful, and that we
eral days to it, and
given me the ad-
pension to go to
"Very well," said
how about trains ? "
"That is what we
They busied them- -
and after half an hour j
arranged a plan.

are improving," cried
Sa man who said last
! even no knowledge
i~f to now show that he
41' between Goths and
1g' you have been read-
S with a smile.
ij been reading up," he
S been talking with
S men at the bank.
is perfectly wonder-
ought to devote sev-
moreover, he has
dress of a sort of
instead of the hotel."
', Miss Lejeune, "and
she continued.
must now look up."
selves on the subject,
of careful study, had

ti M

S,^ -* i*

/,f/,! 777



d p-rP


"Children," said Miss Augusta, advancing to the window where
the new acquaintances were "getting on splendidly," as they would
have expressed it, "we are going to Toledo to-morrow."
"Toledo cried Bessie, "I thought"-
"We have changed the plan," said her father.
"Oh!" she exclaimed; "then I must go at once and read about
the Goths!" and she jumped into the room.
"I wish we could go to Toledo," said Hubert mournfully, revert-
ing to his lonely position which these new companions had made
him for a while forget.
"What are your plans ?" asked Mr. Horner kindly; "perhaps I
can advise you."
"We are just waiting here, sir," he replied, "for a letter, or
some message from papa, telling us how to go on. I dare say he
has sent it, but Spanish mails are so slow." Then, as if he thought
Mr. Horner might be wondering why they were stranded at Madrid
in this manner, he added, while the color came into his cheeks,
"We are going to papa, because my mother was too ill to keep us
with her, and she thought,- she thought I was old enough to bring
them as far as here. But it is too hard,- it is too hard to have
to wait;" and after a struggle, he broke down, and burst into
sobs, with his head on his arm, leaning upon the balcony railing
in the dark.
"It is hard for you, my dear boy," said Mr. Horner, putting
his arm kindly round his shoulder, "and I am glad we met you,
because I am sure we can help you. We will see to-morrow about
telegraphing to your father, if no letter comes."




N EXT morning Miss Lejeune had a little talk with Nana, the
French nurse of the Vaughan children, who proved to be an
intelligent and faithful woman, fit to be entrusted with the sole
charge of them, on ordinary occasions. She was doing her best,
but the unexpected failure to meet Colonel Vaughan made her task
more difficult than had been intended. She was very grateful for
the interest which Miss Lejeune readily showed, and thankful for
advice as to her course.
"You see, madam," she said, "the children were to have stayed
with their mother during the summer, but madam became so very
ill the doctor said they must be taken from her. Her disease is
of the nerves. Poor lady! she is very delicate. We wrote to
Gibraltar, and had one letter from the father, and were told to
come here. It was not so very difficult by the train. We left my
lady at Pau."
"And you have no letter since?" asked Miss Lejeune.
"No letter," replied the nurse. "Mr. Hubert goes daily to the
banker's, but there is nothing, and he is growing very impatient."
Meanwhile Mr. Horner took both the boys out with him, and as
soon as it was late enough for the bank to be open, they went
there; it was the same place for their own letters and for Hubert's.
"This is the third time I have been here, and always the same
answer, 'Nothing for you, sir,"' said Hubert, as they climbed the
stairs; "but you will bring me luck, I hope," he added, smiling.
Mr. Horer liked the boy. His smile was bright, and the look
which came from his eyes frank and direct. He was slightly built.


and decidedly smaller than Tommy, who was now a stout, strong
lad, promising soon to be as tall as his brother Philip.
They went into the banking office, and two or three clerks looked
up at their entrance, one of whom rose to meet Mr. Horner with
a bow.
"Mr. Agrazis has not come in, sir; can we do anything for
you ?"
"Yes;" replied Mr. Horner. "I hardly expect any letters myself
to-day, but I hope you will find one for this young gentleman."
The clerk turned to another, who seemed to have the charge of
customers' letters, and they exchanged several words in Spanish.
"I know perfectly well," said Hubert to Tommy, "that they are
saying to each other, There is that everlasting boy bothering us
about his letters.' They are just determined I shall not have any."
"No, sir; nothing at all," said the clerk, running through a
bunch of decrepit old letters which looked as if they had been
in stock since the flood. He took them out of a pigeon-hole in a
set like that in a country post-office, marked with the letters of the
"Pardon me," said Mr. Horner, "may I look for myself?" He
took the bunch, then said, "This is not the right bundle; Vaughan
begins with V."
"Faun, Faun," repeated the Spanish clerk; "ah, no ?"
They all looked for themselves into pigeon-hole V., and there the
solitary letter was lying, a blue envelope directed in a clear, bold
hand, to'

Care of Messrs. Agrazis and Brown
Banqueros, Madrid

Hubert pounced on it, too glad to find it to resent the mistake,
but Mr. Horner could not help mildly asking the clerk how long it
had probably been there.
"Oh! last night, last night only. Very positive," he replied; and



Mr. Horner would not press the matter. Hubert was tearing open
the letter, and soon had mastered its contents. It was dated at the
very earliest moment that Colonel Vaughan had news of the plan of
sending the children to him by the way of Madrid. It had probably
been lying in the pigeon-hole at the bank as long as the Vaughans
had been waiting for it; but this did not much signify, as the
contents proved. It was brief, and ran thus:

You will find this on your arrival at Madrid. I am very sorry that you are
obliged to come, but will do my best to meet you, or send some one, before the
end of the month. You will stay, of course, at the Hotel de la Paix, where I am
perfectly well known. Be a good boy and mind Nana.
Your Affectionate Father,

Mr. Horner and Tommy stood waiting while Hubert read his
letter, which to be sure did not take long. Mr. Horner saw at a
glance that he was disappointed and hurt. He hesitated, began to
put the letter in his pocket, squeezing his lips tightly together;
then changing his mind, handed it up to Mr. Horner, with a
helpless movement, as if he surrendered himself, in that movement,
to the guardianship of his new friend.
"The end of the month!" he said in a low voice, as if he
meant the end of the world. It was now only the sixteenth.
Tommy took the liberty of looking over his father's shoulder.
He thought it was an unkind letter; and, to tell the truth, Mr.
Horner formed no glowing impression of Colonel Vaughan from
reading it; but it was too early to judge his character. He handed
it back, saying briefly:
"Come along, boys; we will go and see what Nana says. Good
morning, gentlemen. Tommy, your umbrella!" And they all went
down into St. Geronimo street, through which they must pass to
their hotel. The street looked changed, to them, though it was as
lively as ever, thronged with well-dressed men, women with mantillas,
dogs, donkey-carts, -carriages, hand-organs; the shop windows were


as gay, and the gaudy fan which Bessie longed for was flaunting
just as brightly as when they had stopped to look at it the day
before, but Madrid had become hateful to Hubert, and Tommy was
very angry with the unknown father of his new friend, who
could write such a letter as that.
",The end of the month," re-
*' peated Mr. Horner; then he asked
Abruptly, "Hubert, should you like
to go with us to Toledo ?"
"To Toledo! Could you take
me? O,. Mr. Horner!"
"Papa exclaimed Tommy, oh,
do let him go!"
Let us see what Nana thinks,"
said Mr. Horner, whereat the two
boys started for the hotel on
"- .wk^ the full run across the crowded
plaza, finding their way with great
skill between the legs of the
horses. Just at the door, they all came luckily upon Miss Lejeune and
Bessie, who were setting forth by themselves for a little stroll.
"Where is Nana? Do you know?"
"She is up there at the balcony of the salon," said Bessie,
pointing with her parasol. She wanted Fanny to stay 'and help
take care of the baby."
The matter was arranged -sooner and more simply than Mr.
Horner had expected; for it seemed that the head waiter of the
Hotel de la Paix was the husband of Nana's sister, so that Nana
was perfectly at home in the hotel, where she had once or twice
before accompanied her mistress, Mrs. Vaughan.
She thought it perfectly proper for Mr. Horner to take Hubert
and Fanny, who was of course included in the scheme, to Toledo
for a few days, while she stayed in the hotel at Madrid looking
after the baby. When she heard of the letter from Colonel
Vaughan, she shook her head and said:





"I thought as much. Very likely it will be the end of another
month. He is in no hurry, madam," she added, turning to Miss
Lejeune with a knowing nod, but a smile of sadness, "to take
charge of the children."
But the children did not hear this. They had scampered off to
get ready for Toledo. Mr. Horner called after them:
"Put up things enough for three days, Hubert!"
"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu !" cried Nana, catching up the baby and
running after them; "with all the linge at the blanchisseuse, shall
there be even a mouchoir between them!"
As the blanchisseuse was the very sister who had married the
head waiter, this matter was arranged without delay.
"Well!" said Miss Lejeune to Mr. Horner, when they were left
alone in the little balcony.
"Well!" returned Mr. Horner, "this is a pretty high-handed
"How exactly like you," said Miss Lejeune, "to take these wandering
children wholly upon trust, and carry them off with you!"
"As for that, I am not afraid the children will pick our pockets,
or put poison in the soup; but if the stern parent should change
his mind and come after them"--
"And find the birds flown," said Miss Lejeune, continuing his
thought, "it might be a little awkward. But Nana would be equal
to the occasion. Besides, he will not come. What a letter!"
I am most anxious about Nana; what if she neglects the baby
in our absence?" said Mr. Horner.
"My dear, we are not responsible for that baby. Suppose we
had never met them, it would be just the same."
"In taking the children, we assume the burden of the whole
family, I believe," said Mr. Horner, shaking his head. While they
were talking, they had returned to their apartment. Mr. Horner
was walking up and down the room, with his hands in his pockets.
He went on to say:
"It is a risk, but I think it will turn out well. I shall set
Hubert to writing to his father at once, before we leave for Toledo,


and I shall add a postscript, to make it all right with Colonel
Vaughan. So now, we must make all ready for the start this after-
noon. Have you much to do?"
"No," replied Miss Lejuene; as we only take the little things,
and leave the trunks here. But you had better send Bessie to me
if you see her."
He left the room. When Miss Lejeune was alone, she exclaimed
aloud, "Was there ever"-finishing her thought inwardly thus:
"a man so enlarged and improved as Philip Horner, by marriage
and the intercourse with intelligent women! Twenty years ago, he
would not have taken so much trouble for his own relations, and
here he is going out of his way to give pleasure to some little
stray children. And he born in Boston !"




T HUS Nana was left with the baby, and
the young Vaughans, amazed and delighted,
Joined the Horners for Toledo. Little Fanny
was shy, and wanted at first to be left with
Nana. Less notice had been taken of her than
of her brother, and she had not the same
BRIDGEOFALCANTARA. adaptability that he possessed; still it seemed a
pity to leave her behind, and though Bessie did not care much
about the child yet, she exerted herself to urge her going.
They reached Toledo after dark, and found at the station an
omnibus with mules, like the one at Burgos, only this time the
drive to the town was longer, and the mules were even more ani-
mated. There were eight of them, and they whirled along at a mad
pace, the driver cracking his whip, and the postilion running at
the side, or jumping up on the front animal, who was a horse, by
the way, and not a mule.
Toledo is built on a high rock, almost perpendicular on all sides
but one. It is seen from a great distance above the plain, with
sombre stone buildings rising in terraces one above the other. The
Tagus winds its way beneath the walls in a sort of horseshoe,
through a deep bed with steep, cafion-like sides. They crossed it
by the bridge of Alcantara -or Al Kantarah, which means a bridge
in Arabic-passing under arches and through towers at either end,
and then they began slowly winding up through the town. It had
been light enough to see the river and the bridge, but darkness came
on soon, and they could not tell where they were. The streets
were so narrow that they were close to the windows of shops


which seemed brilliant in the dimly-lighted streets, and could see
all sorts of Spanish things, tinsel church ornaments, bright silk or
cotton handkerchiefs, and brass work. The omnibus was feebly
lighted by a dim oil lamp, but Bessie managed to make out that
the only person besides themselves in it, who sat in the corner by
the door, was a matador in his bull-fight dress. He had his little
spadas, or swords, with him, under the seat.
"This is the best fun of anything yet in Spain!" cried Tommy


joyously, between the bumps of the swaying vehicle, and Hubert,
who had come direct from Bayonne to Madrid in the train without
stopping, fully agreed with him.
They stopped before a large wooden door, which reminded them


of an Eastern Bab, or gate. An unseen cord pulled it open, and
it swung inward, showing by the light of a candle, in a small niche
in a thick wall, a broad flight of stairs, built, as far as they could


make out, on one side of an open court, or patio. They groped
their way up two sets of stairs, and there were met by two elderly
Spanish sefioras with hospitable manners, like any two ladies await-
ing to receive their guests. The Horners had been prepared for
this, and had got together their best Spanish; and it now came
out, what they'had not before thought of, that Hubert, who had
spent most of his life in Gibraltar, could manage the language
pretty well.


These sweet ladies made them welcome, and led them by a cor-
ridor running round the patio, to a huge room, with small windows,
heavy beams running across the ceiling, and in one corner an
ancient, closed-up door of green corroded iron, through- which Bessie
fancied that Roderick the Goth might step into the room at any
moment. There were two little iron beds against the wall, and
there was room in the great chamber for half a dozen more. The
two girls, with Miss Lejeune, were put in possession, while the
sefioras carried of the others. Philip and his father were given a
room whose one window opened upon the corridor, and Hubert's
room was a little dark place leading from this up three steps, with
a big flowered chintz curtain for a door or portiere.
While one sefiora bustled about making them comfortable, the
other disappeared to superintend their supper. The ladies were soon
restored by fresh water, which was brought in hospitable profusion,
and while Miss Lejeune rested on the bed, the girls leaned upon
the window and looked down into the patio. It was a square win-
dow, with folding sashes, and heavy shutters, all painted a faded
green. Below, through the darkness, they could make out a paved
square court with oleander-trees in green boxes, and in mysterious
corners stood huge jars which might have contained a forty-thief
apiece. A bell rang which they recognized by the sound, as the
door-bell their driver had rung when they came; and then a won-
derful thing happened. The seniora, who had been bringing them
water and towels, appeared at a window of the corridor, just oppo-
site the one where the children were standing, and pulled at a
cord. They could not see round the corner down below, but they
knew that she must have opened the front door by this process,
from the conversation which ensued in Spanish. Of course they
could not understand it, but they guessed, and probably were
nearly right, that it was something like this:
The sefiora said, "Well! who's there?"
"It is Pepe, sefiora. The butterman has no butter."
"What! Then you must run to the milkman."
"I have done so, and he has none."



"Fetch me, then, some fresh oil, for we have but little; but be
4uick, for the strangers are already impatient for their supper."
The invisible messenger said no more. As the sefiora loosened
the rope, the great door swung to with a bang.
Soon the bell rang again, and the same process took place.
This time there was a scuffling below, and the shadowy form of
Pepe was to be seen hurrying up the stairs which, led from the
patio below, in full view of the children's post of observation.
Over their heads the stars were shining brightly against the
clear evening sky; pointed dormer windows in the tiled roof which
went around the four sides of the patio, stood out sharply; every
now and then a little bird, which speaks often at night in Spain,
made its plaintive note close at hand. It was wonderfully still
and strange.
Still they were not sorry to be summoned to supper, which was
served to them alone, at a round table lighted by a swinging lamp.
The kind ladies waited on them, and watched to see if they liked the
good chicken and fried eggs which they provided. The Horners
praised everything, to the graceful brown jug that held the water.
Little Fanny, too tired and sleepy to eat much, was an object of
great interest to the hostesses, and one of them offered to put her
to bed before the rest had finished their apricots; but Miss
Lejeune would not allow this.
She was afraid Fanny might be frightened in the great room with
the green iron door; but she was a passive little traveller, and in
fact fell asleep as soon as her head was on the pillow.
"I hope Roderick the Goth will not come in and terrify her,"
said Miss Lejeune, as she resumed her seat at the table, and
began to sip the black coffee, which, late as it was, she had not
feared to accept.
"Who is Roderick the Goth?" demanded Hubert; "you keep
referring to him."
"He was the last of the Goths, so called," said Miss Lejeune,
'fbut we. use his name because he was .a famous one, and we have
the Goths upon our minds, because during their rule in Spain,:


Toledo was their chief place; and while we are here, we expect to
see the traces of their buildings and ways of doing things."
"I do not know anything about history," said Hubert with a
tone partly scornful and partly meek, if such a combination can be
"Well, you see, you are in Spain because you have to be,"
said Tommy; "but as we are here for fun, we want to get all the
fun we can out of a country, by knowing all we can about it."
"Bravo, Tommy!" exclaimed his father; "these are the true
Horner sentiments."
Well, then, you will have to tell me all you know," said
Hubert, "for I am rather late to begin."
"Now, I will tell you very briefly," said Bessie, "the way I
used to tell Phil, if you will only listen."
I think, Bessie, your general glimpse of the Goths had better
be postponed," said Mr. Horner, "for it is long after ten o'clock,
and we ought all to go to bed."
"All right," said Hubert, who was struggling with a great yawn,
"but I will listen to-morrow, Bessie."
The early chroniclers of Toledo say that the city was founded at
least as far back as the creation of the world; without trying to
verify their theories, it is quite probable that the Romans found
something there when they established themselves as early as the
beginning of the third century, A. D. At all events, it was to the
Romans an important centre. The first council of the Church of
Spain was held at Toledo, 400 A. D. Some time later, upon the
irruption of the barbarians of the North, which swept all over the
peninsula, it became the capital of Gothic Spain, and was very
prosperous and important. In Wamba's reign, the glory of Toledo
reached its climax; but from that time the Gothic name began .to
decline through its own corruption and internal quarrels, all of
which were preparing for the downfall of the monarchy. Secret
intelligence was given to the Moors over in Africa, that there was
a chance for successful invasion, and they landed at Gibraltar in
great numbers.


Roderick, with all his Goths, came out to meet them, and a great
battle was fought, not far from Cadiz, on the banks of the Guade-
lete. Roderick advanced towards the enemy, dressed in gold and
purple, standing in his ivory chariot, with a wonderful headdress,
and two mules splendidly accoutred. These signs of royalty made
him an easy mark, and he was cut down by the weapon of the
Turk. The head of the king was cut off and forwarded to the
court of Damascus. Thus fell the monarchy of the Goths, and thus
began the domination of the Moor, whose rule in Spain lasted
eight hundred years. They, too, at first, made Toledo their chief
place until Cordova became their court and capital.




D URING all the centuries, the great races who have appeared
in Spain, lived their life, and vanished, have had some foot-
hold in Toledo. They have all left their traces there, which are
yet to be seen, although the city has now become a place of little
importance other than its many monuments of the past. Old
Roman archways, the traces of the palace of the Gothic kings,
beautiful specimens of Moorish mosques and of Jewish synagogues,
are still visible; for when Toledo was first taken by the Moors it
was filled with Hebrews, who helped the Moors because they had
been persecuted by their previous rulers, the Goths. The Cathedral,
and the Church of San Juan de los Reyes, are monuments of the
Spanish Christians, and the present century is represented by the
destruction wrought by French soldiers in 181o.
The streets are irregular, ill-paved, and steep and winding; but
this intricacy was intentional, for it made them easy to defend when
attacked, and kept them cool in summer. The houses are for the
most part Moorish, built about patios, or courts, over which awnings
are drawn in summer.
In the heart of the city towers the Cathedral, around which cluster
many churches and convents, now silent and deserted. The silence
of the place strikes the ear at once, where no carriages, and but sel-
dom a footfall, disturb the echoes of the narrow streets.
The Horners passed three delightful days there, going back to
Madrid on the evening of the third. The hospitable sisters, who kept
the house, would fain have them stay a month, and they were so
enchanted with their quarters, nothing would have pleased them


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