his enemy to attack him, only to arrest his charge and force him to turn
from his deadly purpose by the irresistible power of his superior
mentality. The crowd follows this superb exhibition with breathless
interest, and in a silence that is more eloquent of admiration than the
wildest cheers would be. But the end is nearly reached. Fuentes grasps
his stumpy darts and advances against his bewildered antagonist, who
waits his approach with sulky indifference. The man’s arms are flung up
with a gesture of exasperating defiance, and when the bull makes his
final rush, his opponent, instead of stopping him, steps lithely on one
side, and the brute thunders past him with the two galling arrows firmly
implanted in his huge neck. Fuentes has already moved to the side of the
ring. The bull turns and charges back at him. The _banderillero_ glides
gracefully over the sand, but his pace is not equal to that of his
infuriated pursuer. The distance between them decreases rapidly; in
half-a-dozen yards he will be upon him. Fuentes glances over his
shoulder and, without changing his pace, doffs his cap and flings it in
the bull’s face. This stratagem only arrests the rush of the brute for a
moment, but it gives the man time to reach the barrier, where he
receives his _muleta_ and sword from an attendant and returns to
complete his task.
All the kings of the bull-ring have their own particular feats or
strokes, which the Spaniards appreciate as Englishmen revel in
Ranjitsinhji’s acrobatic hitting, or Morny Cannon’s inimitable
“finishes.” Bombita-Chico’s speciality in playing his bull is to kneel
in the arena and allow the animal to charge through the _capa_ which is
held within three feet of the ground. The nerve required for this feat
fires the audience with enthusiastic approval. The tale is told of a
_torero_, whose name I have forgotten, who gained distinction by his
exceptional skill in facing the bull with the long vaulting pole, known
as the _salto de la garrocha_. With this instrument he would goad the
bull on to the attack. When the brute was in full gallop he would,
timing his movements to the instant, run a few yards to meet him, and
swing himself high into the air at the end of his pole. The oncoming
bull would charge the pole, the grounded end would be tossed upwards,
and the _torero_ would drop lightly to the ground and make good his
escape. On one occasion the man performed his risky “turn” at a moment
when the attention of a royal lady was attracted from the arena, and she
sent an attendant to the expert to command him to repeat it. In vain the
poor fellow protested that it was impossible for him to accomplish the
same feat again with the same bull. The lady’s desire had been
expressed. “But it is more than my life is worth,” argued the athlete.
“It is the lady’s wish,” responded the attendant. The _torero_ bowed,
and “I dedicate my life to Her Royal Highness,” he said. The attempt
fell out as he foretold. The bull charged and stopped dead. The man
vaulted aloft, his body described a half circle, and fell--on the horns
of the bull. He was dead before the attendants could entice the animal
from his victim.
[Illustration: THE FINAL STROKE.]
Lagartijo, Lagartijillo, Mazantini, and Montes all have their
distinguishing methods of attacking and despatching the bull, but none
of these are capable of the feat by which Guerrita was wont to throw the
bull-ring into transports of deafening enthusiasm. In the ordinary way,
the _espada_ having taken the measure of his adversary, receives him
standing sideways, and having thrust his sword at arm’s length between
the left shoulder and the blade, leaps aside as the bull blunders
forward on to his knees and falls to the earth. But Guerrita advanced
his left arm across his body and waved his _muleta_ under his right
uplifted arm. When the bull lowered his head at the charge he passed the
sword over the animal’s horns and plunged the blade into the vital spot
behind the shoulder. In other words, he stopped the brute and killed him
while his head was under his arm; and so closely were the duellists
locked in that last embrace, that Guerrita’s side was frequently
scratched by the bull’s horns. One may lecture, write, and preach
against the barbarity of bull-fighting; but so long as Spain can breed
men of such amazing nerve, and skill, and dexterity that they can
successfully defy death and mutilation to provide their countrymen with
such lurid sport, so long will bull-fighting continue to flourish in
Spain.
[Illustration: A VALENCIAN BEAUTY.]
[Illustration: A VALENCIAN BEAUTY.]
[Illustration: BULL-FIGHTERS AT THE TAVERN.]
[Illustration: A PICADORÉ.]
The Picture Gallery, Madrid.
In returning to the subject of the Museo of Madrid, and its priceless
treasures, my object is not to pen a dissertation on Spanish art, but to
add a few lines by way of an accompaniment to the excellent photographs
of some of the principal pictures which I am privileged to reproduce. In
a collection which contains numerous canvasses by Rubens, Vandyke, and
Rembrandt, no less than forty of Titian’s best productions, ten pictures
by Raffaele, including the _Spasimo_, considered by many to be his
greatest work, and, among the Dutch and Flemish specimens, more than 200
of Teniers alone, the artist is concerned almost entirely with the
masterpieces of the Spanish school. Here are sixty paintings of the
superb Velasquez, who was Court painter under Philip the Fourth; nearly
as many pictures by that gentle and serene genius Murillo; and many
magnificent specimens of the fiery temperament of Goya. Here are
miracles of art from the sixteenth-century genius of Antonio Moro and
Coello to Valdés Leal and Lopez of but a century ago. The catalogue of
this collection would make a formidable appendix to a book of this size;
an adequate appreciation could not be contained in two such volumes. The
most famous gems of the Madrid gallery are familiar not only to
students, but to the men in the streets of every city of the world--even
Goya’s “Family of Charles IV.,” the least known of the few that I have
selected for reproduction, has been copied by scores of enthusiasts. The
passionate, fulminating genius of Goya, which found its supreme
nourishment in the spectacle of the bull-fight, and its highest
expression in scenes of war, and blood, and laceration, was scarcely at
home as a courtier. He brought the terrible realism of his execution
scenes and battle pieces to the portraiture of the Royal Family, and the
members of the family of Charles IV. will, consequently, go down to
posterity as the most unamiable and unattractive group of royalties that
has ever been put on canvas. The faces are worse than plain, they are
hideous; but the details are treated in the artist’s vigorous and
effective style, and the whole composition compels a belief in his
fidelity to nature.
[Illustration: THE FAMILY OF CHARLES V., BY GOYA.]
From among the profusion of masterpieces by which Velasquez is
represented I have passed over the dignified, serene, and powerful
picture of Æsop, in favour of the huge and
[Illustration: THE VELASQUEZ GALLERY IN THE MUSEUM, MADRID.]
dramatic painting of the Surrender of Breda--the latter a superb
achievement, both in colour and design. “The Surrender of Breda” is
regarded as the noblest of the works of Velasquez, and is, perhaps, one
of the finest historical pictures in the world. “Such a masterpiece,”
says the Chevalier D’Avillier, “must be seen; it cannot be described.”
It is usually known in Spain as _Les Lanzas_ from the upright lances
that cut the sky. A celebrated art critic has written of the picture,
“never were knights, soldiers, or national character, or the heavy
Fleming, the intellectual Italian, and the proud Spaniard, more nicely
marked even to their boots and breeches. Observe the genial countenance
of Spinola, who (the model of a high-bred, generous warrior) is
consoling a gallant but vanquished enemy (Justin of Nassau). It is
interesting to recall the fact that Spinola took Breda in 1826, and died
five years afterwards, broken hearted at Philip the Fourth’s treatment,
exclaiming, ‘_Me han quitado la honra!_’ (They have robbed me of my
honour!)” The head placed on the extreme right of the picture, with a
plumed hat shading his finely-chisseled brow, is that of Velasquez
himself, who has in other of his pictures introduced his personality. In
_La Familia_ the artist has represented himself painting the Royal
Family of Philip IV., and in it the painter stands before his easel,
brush and palette in hand. On his breast is the red cross of Santiago:
and tradition has it that the King painted in the decoration in order,
as he declared, “to finish the picture.”
By his works in the Velasquez Gallery alone must the great artist be
judged. Outside Madrid the painter is apt to be judged by a few gloomy
figures, conceived in a stiff, gloomy style, and attired in staid,
gloomy costumes; whereas his fertile genius composed a whole gallery of
types and examples ranging from kings to beggars, from warriors to
clowns, from martyrs to drunkards--all vigorous, living, speaking
presentments. Velasquez was, as his pictures in the Museo teach us, a
painter of real personages, a chronicler of what he saw, a surprisingly
faithful depicter of humanity; but one must go to Madrid to realise and
properly appreciate the genius of the master, for it might almost be
said that the entire produce of his brush is contained within these
walls.
[Illustration: THE DIVINE FAMILY, BY MURILLO.]
Murillo, with his placid inspiration, which found its outlet in simple
and noble elegance of outline, in benign and consoling expressions, and
a sweetness of eye and lip on saintly faces that defies description, is
represented here in all his glory. Murillo was unequalled in the art of
representing the Divine idea in his saints and madonnas, and Spain has
rightly named him “The Painter of the Conceptions.” Of the four
wonderful “conceptions” that are to be seen in the Museo of Madrid, I
have
[Illustration: BARTOLOME ESTEBAN, BY MURILLO.]
[Illustration: BARTOLOME ESTEBAN, BY MURILLO.]
chosen for reproduction two that all the world has acclaimed to be the
most wonderful imaginings of soulful beauty and tender youthfulness that
man has given to the world. Devout in purpose and idea, tender and
exquisite in execution, his picture of the Sacred Family--called the
_Pajarito_ from the little bird held in the Christ’s hand--is one of the
most purely devotional pictures of the youthful Saviour in existence. An
altarpiece, known as _La Porciuncula_, from a plot of ground near
Assisi, where Christ appeared in a vision to St. Francis, is in the
artist’s best style, and _El Divino Pastor_ is another most
characteristic and most popular of the master’s works.
[Illustration: THE DIVINE FAMILY, BY MURILLO.]
Murillo’s heart was divided between beggars and babyhood--he seems to
have taught the Spaniards benevolence towards the one and devotion to
the other. Most of the beggar-boy pictures have been transferred to
foreign collections, but remains the Holy Families and the
cherub-peopled Annunciations. Of those Andalusian cherubs a charming
American author, Katharine Lee Bates, has written, “Such ecstatic
rogues as they are! Their restless ringlets catch azure shadows from the
Virgin’s mantle; they perch tiptoe on the edges of the crescent moon;
they hold up a mirror to her glory and peep over the frame to see
themselves; they pelt St. Francis with roses; they play bo-peep from
behind the fleecy folds of cloud; they try all manner of aerial
gymnastics. But a charm transcending even theirs dwells in these baby
Christs that almost spring from the Madonna’s arms to ours, in those
Christs that touch all boyhood with divinity. The son of the Jewish
carpenter, happy in his father’s workshop with bird and dog; the
shepherd lad whose earnest eyes look toward his waiting flock; the
lovely playmates, radiant with innocent beauty, who bend together above
the water of life--from these alone might Catholic Spain have learned
the sacredness of childhood. But Spain first showed Murillo the vision
that he rendered back to her.”
[Illustration: THE DIVINE SHEPHERD, BY MURILLO.]
Murillo’s baby Christs are indeed an inspiration, for “they
[Illustration: A CONCEPTION, BY MURILLO.]
[Illustration: A CONCEPTION, BY MURILLO.]
touch all boyhood with divinity,” as his Virgin’s waken all souls to
adoration. De Amicis, the Italian writer whose appreciations of Spain it
is a pleasure to read and a privilege to quote, says of Murillo that he
is “not only a great painter, but has a great soul; is more than a
glory; is, in fact, an object of affection in Spain; he is more than a
sovereign master of the beautiful, he is a benefactor, one who inspires
good actions; and a lovely image which is once found in his canvasses is
borne in one’s heart throughout life with a feeling of gratitude and
religious devotion. He is one of those men of whom an indescribable
prophetic sentiment tells us that we shall see them again; that the
meeting with them is due to us like some prize; that they cannot have
disappeared for ever, they are still in some place; that their life has
only been like a flash of inextinguishable light, which must appear once
more in all its splendour to the ages of mortals.” In transcribing his
general impressions of the pictures in the Museo of Madrid, De Amicis
pathetically comments: “It is one of the most dolorous consequences of a
charming journey, this finding one’s mind full of beautiful images, and
the heart a tumult of intense emotions, and only being able to give
expression to so small a portion of them! With what profound disdain I
could tear up these pages when I think of those pictures! Oh, Murillo;
oh, Velasquez; oh, poor pen of mine!” Yet these are the artistic
bewailings of a writer who has comprehended as much of, and expressed
more faithfully the charm and soulfulness of Murillo than any living
critic.
Viva el Rey.
On the 17th of May, 1902, Queen Maria Christina relinquished the Regency
she had sustained so faithfully and unfalteringly for upwards of sixteen
years, and Alfonso XIII., or to give his name in full, Alfonso Leon
Fernando Maria Santiago Pidro Pascual Marcian Antonio, appeared before
his subjects for the first time in the character of ruler as well as
King. The eyes of all Europe were directed to Madrid on that day of
sunshine and rejoicing, and perhaps in England more than in any country
in the world was the nobility and pathos of the Queenly figure, and the
brilliant promise given by the young King, most sympathetically
appreciated. Queen Christina had devoted her life to her duty; to the
service of Spain and the task of fitting her son for the high destiny to
which he was born. The difficulty of that task cannot be over-estimated.
Taken from the cloistered and secluded life in the Convent of Hochradin
in Bohemia, the young Abbess-Princess, who from her earliest years was
remarkable for the gravity of her character and her singular piety, was
suddenly thrust into the fierce light that beats about a throne to
secure a union between the two great Catholic families of the Hapsburgs
and the Spanish Bourbons. Married in 1879, Queen Maria Christina enjoyed
six years of complete happiness. Handsome, young, and brave, King
Alfonso XII. proved a faithful and a devoted husband. His early death
left her an alien in a strange land to govern a people who regarded her,
if not with dislike, at least with suspicion. The Spanish have no reason
to love Austria, and the mere fact of the Queen Mother being an Austrian
by birth was sufficient
[Illustration: 1886.]
[Illustration: 1891.]
[Illustration: 1892.]
[Illustration: 1893.]
[Illustration: 1895.]
[Illustration: 1896.]
[Illustration: 1898.]
[Illustration: 1901.]
[Illustration: 1902.]
to excite a feeling of distrust. But the brave Queen outlived the
popular want of confidence, and won the admiration and respect of her
subjects.
[Illustration: THE KING AND HIS MOTHER.]
A few months after the death of Alfonso XII., the infant King--he was
King from the first breath of life that he drew--“the only child born a
king since Christ”--was presented to the great officials and grandees of
Spain, lying upon a silver salver. The thrill of the first cry of “Viva
el Rey!” that rose outside the Palace of Madrid on May 17th, 1886, and
were renewed with tempestuous enthusiasm on May 17th, 1902, has never
died in the hearts of the Spaniards. The Divine right of kings is not an
unmeaning formula in Spain, in spite of all past history; and to the
people who so ardently desired him, the circumstances of Alfonso’s birth
gave their King a peculiarly Heaven-sent character. From the moment of
his birth he has been hedged about by restrictions and precautions. The
hopes of the Royalists and of men of all parties who believe that only
monarchical government is possible for Spain have been centred in him,
and his every look and action has been watched with a most intense
anxiety, rising from the conviction that only the life of this one-time
delicate lad stood between Spain and the chaos of revolution.
The weakness of the infant King added to the unparalleled trials that
were laid upon the Queen. She has had, in addition, to meet the
unquenchable hate of the two political factions--the Carlists, who still
dream of a successful coup on behalf of the Pretender; and the Radicals,
who would found the Red Republic. She has had to meet the menace of
risings in the Carlist North and labour troubles in the Republican
South. She has seen Spain drained in men and money in a futile effort to
subdue the Cuban Rebellion. More recently still her heart has been wrung
by the appalling disasters of the war with America. She saw the gallant
army of Spain defeated, its heroic fleet annihilated; Cuba, Porto Rico,
and the Philippines--the last remnants of what had once been the
greatest Colonial Empire in the World--torn from the Crown of Spain. The
Queen Regent bore these terrible misfortunes with dauntless courage; and
her wisdom, prudence, and ability enabled her to save the dynasty and to
see the Crown placed on the head of the son she so dearly loves.
Under his mother’s untiring care the little King threw off his infant
ailings. He had the usual illnesses of childhood, one of so severe a
character that it cost the country many days of painful suspense. But,
like many other delicate children, he grew in health and strength as the
years went by, and his subjects were soon able to assure themselves that
it was no weakling that would sit on the throne of Spain. It is a matter
of history that he opened his first Cortes in his nurse’s arms at
[Illustration: S. M. EL REY ALFONSO XIII.]
the age of one; at two years old he sat on a throne to open the
Exhibition of Barcelona, and from his earliest years he was taught the
lesson of responsibility. Efforts have been made before now to bring up
a future ruler of a country in ignorance of his or her coming power, and
in subjection to temporary guardians. With Alfonso XIII. the opposite
plan was very wisely followed. He has always been the King, subject to
no will but his mother’s; and even in his childhood there must have been
borne upon his mind some perception of the idea which all the pomp and
ceremony surrounding him portended, and some knowledge that he himself
was the embodiment of that idea. Until the age of seven, his time was
spent between the Palace of Madrid and the Palace of Miramar in San
Sabastian, under the immediate eye of his mother and his sisters.
Thereafter, in conformity with the traditions of the Court of Spain, he
was obliged to have a separate establishment of his own, and his
education was entrusted to a distinguished officer of the Royal
Household, General Sanchis, assisted by three officers and a staff of
professors. His Majesty proved an apt scholar, mastering English,
French, and German, each of which he speaks fluently, and obtaining a
wide and deep knowledge of the history of his own country. He was also
instructed in the elements of law, political economy, and the theory of
Government--branches of study for which he showed a very marked
aptitude. Like every true Spaniard, the King early disclosed a
passionate fondness for the army, and three days in the week he was
regularly instructed in military drill and exercises in company with a
number of young Spanish nobles. He early became an accomplished fencer,
a capital shot, a good swimmer, and an excellent horseman. He has an
admirable seat and great pluck and judgment, and never looks better than
he does on horseback. In the extensive stables of the Palace, which
contains a very varied collection of steeds from all countries, there is
scarcely a horse which he has not ridden.
[Illustration: S. A. INFANTA MARIA TERESA.]
What manner of King was it that on his 17th birthday made his first
official appearance as the Constitutional ruler of Spain? Accomplished
as a scholar and a musician, and a fine all-round athlete, we know also
of him that, thanks to heredity and careful training, he has developed a
manliness and resolution of character which promise to stand him in good
stead in the future. “Tall and slender,” to quote the description of a
writer who was in a position to picture His Majesty with accuracy,
“graceful in movement in spite of the length and looseness of his limbs,
the King has inherited, not only the mobile features, but also very much
of the charm of manner, the _bonhomme_ and easy grace, which made
Alfonso XII. so dear to his friends. He is no lover of ceremonious
etiquette; but, simple and familiar as he prefers his intercourse to be,
he shows a rare tact in one so young in never forgetting, or permitting
others to forget, that he is King. Above all, he is Spanish to the
backbone; and for this he owes much to his aunt, the Infanta Isabel, the
widowed Countess of Girgenti, who has particularly devoted herself to
the task of making her nephew a good Spaniard. The Infanta Isabel is
deservedly one of the most popular women in Spain; she possesses a rare
knowledge of even the intricate mazes of its political life, as well as
an absolute and innate sympathy with many national characteristics.
Other reasons, too, have contributed to make Alfonso XIII. a good
Spaniard. There is no greater incentive to patriotism than national
suffering; and it was at the most impressionable age that he learnt, day
by day, to listen to the tale of the disasters that were befalling his
country. In this connection, it may be added that he shows signs of
becoming a keen soldier, and has shown a lively interest in the military
life by which he is immediately surrounded. His brother-in-law, the
husband of the Infanta, known now by courtesy as the Prince of Asturias,
fully shares this inclination, and has proved the best of comrades to
the King in that as well as in other pursuits.”
[Illustration: S. A. LA PRINCESA DE ASTURIAS.]