The "Corkonians" took the train for Seville, and it was a corker in
length for it took three engines and all the first-class carriages in
Andalusia to carry us to our destination.
The management had about a carload of plaited straw lunch baskets and
filled them with good things, so we had a continuous picnic _en route_.
When we arrived we found almost every carriage in this city of 150,000
people lined up in a big square for the distribution of the party, as
the principle of procedure was, first come first served. There was a
motion picture for you that lasted twenty minutes, but there was a
place for every man and every man had his place, so we were all
comparatively happy and started in to "do" the town.
Seville has one of the largest, finest and richest Gothic Cathedrals in
existence; it has absolutely everything that can in reason be demanded
of a cathedral, with or without price, including in part a full line of
old masters, headed by Murillo and Velasquez (who were born here);
bones of the good dead ones--and some bad ones--silver gilt organs, a
court of orange trees in full bloom, the Columbian library (established
by Fernando, Columbus' son), containing nothing but books, books,
books! Then again there are _acres_--I was going to say--of stained
glass windows, but perhaps I had better stick to the simple truth and
say innumerable windows, showing every variation of the rainbow in
their brilliant, deftly interwoven tints. Once more we find jewels of
great price, solid silver trophies (which before the slump in silver
would have placed any honest man above the corrosion of carking care);
and wood-carving by masters of the trade whose artistic feeling was
graphically described by our learned guide--known to the "Corks" as
"Red Lead," on account of the lurid color of his hair. He wore an
Oscar Hammerstein opera hat and seemed condemned to live on earth but
for a certain time--and all whom he met wished for its speedy
expiration. In a single, simple, instructive sentence he requested us
to "Joost look at dat figger and see how the master have carve them
feets; they are both two much alike."
[Illustration: CONSTANTINOPLE AND THE GOLDEN HORN CROSSED BY THE GALATA
BRIDGE, WITH STAMBOUL IN THE FOREGROUND. THE YOUNG TURKS PRESENTED
THIS AS THE FIRST SNAP OF THEIR OFFICIAL CAMERA. LATER THEY
"DEDICATED" THE BRIDGE BY HANGING THE FIRST BATCH OF MURDERERS ON IT]
Most of these things, and many more, were the gifts of King Charles V.,
King Ferdinand, Queen Isabella and others, with a Sultan or two thrown
in for good measure. All this grandeur is spread over 124,000 square
feet, exceeded only a little by St. Peter's in Rome.
In the plethora of good things I had almost forgotten to mention the
Tomb of Columbus, a finely carved sarcophagus in solid bronze. Heroic,
allegorical figures support it and it is an imposing coffin in every
respect.
The size of this great Cathedral is three hundred and eighty by two
hundred and fifty feet, and a week might be spent in seeking out the
vast treasures which run the gamut of art and money from its top round
to the bottom. There are many other churches here, but to try to write
of them after attempting to describe the Cathedral would be like an
introduction to Tom Thumb after having spent the day with Chang, the
Chinese giant. However, we can hardly overlook the Alcazar, which
"cuts" considerable "ice," even in this hot climate. It is the palace
of the late Moorish kings, containing the famous Court of the Maidens
and the Hall of the Ambassadors. It cost a good many millions of
_pesetas_ to erect its front elevations, not to speak of its elaborate
interior decorations, although the workmen only received two pence per
day, and they had a local "blue card" union at that.
The "Order of the Corks," both men and women, all went to see a grand
series of Spanish dances at the theatre, got up for their delectation
and amusement. No band of enthusiastic pilgrims ever started in such
high feather to see a dramatic and terpsichorean feast as did we.
There was an expression of mystery and expectancy on every face. Mary
Garden and all she does would be a mere flea bite to what we should see
of pure and simple naughtiness. But alack and alas for our blasted
hopes and the human weakness that had been worked on by the adroit
press agent! The show was a "fake:" there was nothing naughty about
it--and very little that was nice. No refrigerating plant ever
contained a freezing room so dank, cold and gloomy as that theatre!
After the first act, the ladies--Heaven help them!--put on their furs;
in the second, an odd man or two began to sneak out, and by the time
the curtain rose on the last act there was hardly a soul in the house!
The weary "Corkonians" wended their way to the hotels in disconsolate
groups, and the simple but convincing words, "Stung again!" hung on
every lip as we toddled up the dark stairs to our beds, wiser but
sadder men. There may be allurements in Andalusian dancing--but if
there are, we certainly did not see them.
In the cold, gray dawn of the next morning we gathered up our
belongings, and after an early breakfast, reinforced by another
"management" basket lunch, we made for the train. An all-day's ride to
Granada was before us. You see, you couldn't get anything to eat at a
Spanish station but garlic, onions and chocolate, so we had to prepare
for the worst. "The worst" came all right, in the sanitary
arrangements at the stations (for there were none on the trains), but
we justly blamed all our troubles on Spain and not on the management of
the trip. It all passed, however, like a summer cloud when we landed
in time for a late dinner at Granada. Dinner over we went out and saw
some of the gay life of this famous city. The local color was
there--in fact, it was highly colored; and as for "atmosphere," why,
the air was full of it! The ladies squirmed a little, but the men
stood nobly by their guns till the last candle had been snuffed out;
and so we went to bed, after arranging to give a full day to the
Alhambra next morning, and slept the sleep of the just.