 CHAPTER 22 OF THE MENTOR II THE WIFE IN ART by Gustave Covey It may be that he who rides alone rides fastest, and that the man, encumbered with wife and family, feels his pace slacken, and the goal is far away as ever. Andrea del Sarto, in the closing lines of Browning's poem, utters the same thought. He is addressing his wife, Lucrecia Fady, whose extravagant and wayward tastes many think, ruined his career and prevented his ranking with Leonardo, Raphael, and Angelo. In heaven perhaps new chances, one more chance, for great walls in the new Jerusalem, meted on each side by the angels' reed, for Leonardo, Raphael, Angelo, and me, to cover the three first without wife, while I have mine, so still they overcome, because they're still Lucrecia, as I choose. And so, in that supreme painting contest with his three rivals, he is still distanced, because they're still Lucrecia, but note that he adds, as I choose, he had rather fail with her than triumph without her. Indeed, my point in mentioning Andrea and Lucrecia is to assert that he rode faster for not riding alone, that he was not the equal of the three artists he aspired to rival, and that if it is sometimes thought he might have rivaled them, this is due to the works he painted, under the inspiration of his love for Lucrecia. She kept him in a constant state of impeccuniosity and jealousy, but it was, as I choose, and well it might have been. His art seems to rise to a higher plane, from the moment her dark, imperious beauty, a new note in religious painting, looks out at us from works like the Madonna of the Harpies and the youthful Saint John, for from her face he painted the faces, not only of women, but also of boys and youths, and always it is her beauty that dominates the picture. Influence of the Wife If she, in character the worst kind of wife a man can have, so inspired her husband, how rare and exquisite must have been the influence of Lucrecia Bouty, over Fra Philippo Libby, of Helena Ferment, over Rubens, of Maria Ruthven, over Van Dyke, of Saskia, over Rembrandt, of Elizabeth Siddl, over Rosetti, for these women were devoted to their artist husbands, and were in turn adored by them, doubtful indeed if any of these men would have subscribed to the doctrine that he rides fastest who rides alone. Lucrecia Bouty, who was the wife of Fra Philippo Libby, must not be confused with the Lucrecia Fady whom Andrea married, moreover the circumstances under which Fra Philippo would and won his Lucrecia were far more romantic. He was a man whose great talent manifested itself early in life, and although he had been put in a monastery because his relatives were too poor to educate him, his evident genius for art earned him many liberties. In fact he was decidedly gay, and the hero of numerous escapades, the most famous of which has been immortalized by Browning, who found in the two Italian artists Andrea and Libbo subjects for two of his finest poems. The adventure of which Browning rides occurred upon the triumphant return to Florence, of Cosimo de Medici, and his patronage of Fra Philippo. Cosimo, Cosimo frequently annoyed by the friar's loose habits and despairing of his ever finishing and important picture that he had commissioned him to paint, caused him to be locked up in a room of the Medici Palace. Fra Philippo stood this for a few days, then one night, worrying of his confinement, he escaped. The friar's own pleading in Browning's poem tells the story. I could not paint all night. Oh, I leaned out of window for fresh air. There came a hurry of feet and little feet, a sweep of lute strings, laughs and whiffs of song. Round they went. Scarce had they turned the corner with a titter, like the skipping of rabbits by moonlight, three slim shapes, and a face that looked up. Zook serve flesh and blood, that's all I'm made of. Into shreds it went, curtain and counterpane and coverlet, all the bed furniture, a dozen knots. There was a ladder down I let myself, hands and feet, scrambling somehow, and so dropped, and after them. Notwithstanding his conduct, so out of keeping with his cloth, he was appointed chaplain to the nuns of the convent of Santa Margarita in Prato, and commissioned by the abbess to paint a picture of the Madonna for the altar of the convent church. It chanced that there was in the nunnery a novice to whom convent life was just as ill-suited as monastic life would have been to Fra Filippo had he been obliged to abide by its tenets. Filippo and Lucretia Boody The name of the novice was Lucretia Boody, and struck by the grace and beauty of this young woman, the artist begged that she might be allowed to pose for him for the picture, and the request was granted. They indeed have been diplomacy on the part of the abbess, for it was not unlikely that Lucretia, who had no vocation whatsoever for convent life, had proved herself refractory, and that the convent authorities saw a chance of getting rid of her, which they could not do by returning her to her family, because she had been consigned to them against her will by a step-brother, anxious to get rid of her care and expense. In any event, the friar, lippy, fell in love with her and she with him, profiting by the crowd and confusion attendant on the festival of the Madonna of the girdle, which is celebrated in Prado on the first of May. Fra Filippo, carried off Lucretia, appealed to his patron Cosmo de Medici, and through the latter's intercession received from the Pope Pius II a special brief, absolving both himself and the novice from their ecclesiastical vows, and granting them dispensation to marry. He and Lucretia had two children, their son, Filipino lippy, more than rivaling his father's fame as a painter. The Madonna that Fra Filippo painted for the convent may still be seen in Prado, and there are other pictures in which Lucretia's lovely face is discernible. The Two Wives of Rubens Rubens was so happy with his first wife, Isabella Brent, who died after eighteen years of blissful married life with him, that he could not endure the loneliness of being a widower. But four years after Isabella's death took as his second wife Helena Firmant. This marriage proved to be as happy as the first, although he was already fifty-three and she barely sixteen, their union was blessed with five handsome children, so that his declining years found him surrounded by youth and beauty, and with a splendid young wife as comrade. During the eighteen years of his first marriage, Isabella appeared in nearly all his large pictures. She was of a more refined type than Helena, so that with his second marriage, when he began to introduce his second wife into his pictures, his style becomes broader and more vigorous. For Helena had a strong, fully developed figure of pronounced contour, rosy flesh tints, golden hair, and lips that seemed always partly open to show the flash of pure white teeth. These were her attractions. She was obviously more beautiful, more brilliant than Isabella, although in her youth her development was somewhat too luxuriant. A picture of healthy, bursting, buoyant, young womanhood. Indeed so proud does Ruben seem of having, at his age, won a woman of her pronounced and youthful charms, that in some of his pictures he expresses them too freely, as for example in the Helena in a fur police in the Imperial Gallery Vienna, that Rubens drew a vast amount of inspiration from his two wives, Isabella and Helena, is obvious to anyone familiar with his work, for they appear in picture after picture from his brush. His married life, first with Isabella and then with Helena, was a constant stimulus to his best work. Rembrandt too was married twice, and although his first wife was refined and aristocratic, and his second far from it, having been a servant in his household, he was intensely happy with both, and painted them many times. Sasuke van Ullenberg, although not strictly speaking a beauty from the casual point of view, lent herself admirably, nevertheless, to pictorial treatment, especially that pictorial treatment of lights and deep shadows of which her husband was the greatest master that ever lived. Indeed the pictures in which she appears are almost too numerous to mention. There is the delightful portrait of her in the gallery at Castle, said to have been painted in her own home in 1633, the year before she and Rembrandt were married. Her face and profile, the features delicately delineated, is shown against a background of deep, rich colors. With the lightest touch, her wavy chestnut hair lies upon her cheek and forehead. A spray of rosemary in her hand rests across her heart. This, the emblem of a Dutch maiden's betrothal, tells its own story. Probably, however, the most famous portrait ever painted of an artist and his wife is that by Rembrandt in the Dresden gallery, of Sasuke seated on his knees, while he clasps her waist with his left hand, and raises in his right a half filled glass. The joy on their faces gives witness to the pride and pleasure they found in each other. Sasuke was a wealthy woman, and while she lived, want never entered Rembrandt's house. But, alas, she was delicate, and died in 1642, less than a year after giving birth to the son who was christened Titus. Rembrandt had spent much money in filling his house with objects of art, prints, rich stuff for costumes, and other things, and not long after Sasuke's death, he found himself impoverished. Some idea of the richness of his collections is obtained from the adornment with which Sasuke appears in the picture known as the Jewish Bride, and in the genre Portrait Manurva, into which she is shown as a learned lady in the richest of costumes, seated at a beautiful table and reading from an ancient tome. Rembrandt ranks with the greatest masters in art. He rides fast as who rides alone, is it possible that Rembrandt could have ridden faster, or reached a farther goal, without Sasuke and Hendrikja? Van Dyke's Portrait of Maria Rothfin Van Dyke, the favourite pupil of Rubens, so much so that when some romping pupils in Ruben's absence brushed against a partly finished picture and marred it, he was asked to retouch it in order that the master might not notice the defect. Oso was a favourite in the world of women, and much influenced by them. Even in youth a love adventurer said to have sent him from Rubens' Atelier to Italy. In England, when no one is more closely identified than he, with the period of Charles I, Deschern and Ladies, as a German writer on Van Dyke expresses it, fairly fought for the honour of being painted by him. If his works lack the vital vigour and joyous abandon of the typical Flemish masters, it must be remembered that his Italian sojourn passed largely in court circles, greatly refined his style, and that he, the painter of aristocrats, is also an aristocrat among painters. His output for his short life, 1599-1641, was great, and of the 1500 works catalogued as his, 300 are portraits of women. Walpole speaks of their beautiful hands, but Van Dyke had special models for the hands for those of both the men and the women. The elegance and refinement of his work is, however, undoubted, and though he lacks the power of a Rembrandt, and the tremendous verve of a Rubens, much of his work, within the limitations imposed by elegance, is executed in the large manner. It is said that his ability to accomplish so much was due to the fact that he never allowed a sitter to weary him, obviating this by dismissing them at the end of an hour. At the time appointed for the sitting the artist appeared in his studio, at the end of the hour he rose, made his obeisance, and appointed the hour for the next sitting. A servant cleaned the brushes and reloaded the pallet, while the artist received and entertained the next sitter. He had many love affairs in England, and especially one with Margaret Lemon, who threatened when his love began to cool, to cut off his hand. The world is richer by a beautiful portrait for this love affair, and fortunately, instead of cutting off his hand, or even attempting to, Margaret went to Holland with friends. Van Dyck's gay life, however, seriously alarmed the king, who, being genuinely attached to him, and also admiring his art, feared for his health. Accordingly, his majesty chose for him a wife, a beautiful young woman, Maria Ruffin, daughter of Lord Ruffin. Van Dyck painted her several times, and one of his best known portraits is that of her with her violin cello, which is in the old Pinnacotheque Munich. His married life seems to have been happy, though brief. He died within two years of his nuptials, leaving us the portraits of Maria as souvenirs of his happiness. Rosetti's Blessed D'Amoselle Dante Gabrielle Rosetti, who was poet as well as painter, buried the manuscript of his poems, although they had been announced for publication, in the coffin of his wife, who died in February 1862. Not until October 1869 was the manuscript resurrected and the publication of his poems made possible, it is doubtful if poet or painter has ever paid a greater tribute than Rosetti, thus paid to Elizabeth Sittle. Rosetti was introduced to Elizabeth by a brother artist, who had discovered her in a milliner's shop in London. She consented to pose for Rosetti. His brother, in some charming reminiscences of her, writes that to fall in love with Elizabeth Sittle was a very easy performance, and that Dante Gabrielle did it at an early date. The name Elizabeth, however, was never on Dante's lips, but rather Lizzie or Liz, and fully as often Gugum's Gugum or Gug. Mrs. Hewfer, the younger daughter of Ford Maddox Brown, says that when she was a small child she saw Rosetti at his easel in her father's house, uttering momentarily in the absence of the beloved one. Gugum, Gugum, after a while Gugum became a settled institution in Rosetti's studio, and other people, his brother included, understood they were not wanted there. Dante was constantly drawing from Gugum, and she designing under his tuition. He was unconventional, and she, if not so originally, became so in the course of her companionship with him. In her appearance, as in her character, she was a remarkable young woman. The beauty of Elizabeth Sittle. The artist's brother writes of her that she was truly a beautiful girl, tall with a stately throat, and fine carriage, pink and white complexion, and massive, straight, coppery golden hair. Her heavy-lidded eyes were large and greenish-blue, but as this narrator says, it is not necessary to speak much about her appearance, as the designs of Dante Rosetti speak for it better than I could. Her whole manner, in spite of her great beauty, was reserved, self-controlling, and alien from approach. Rosetti's brother says that her talk was, in his experience, scanty, slight and scattered, with some amusing turns, and little to see's hold upon, little clue to her real self, or anything determinant. But, alas, the beautiful Elizabeth was a sufferer from consumption, accompanied by neuralgia, for the neuralgia-frequent doses of laudanum had been prescribed. Her condition was such toward the end that sometimes she was obliged to take one hundred drops at a time. On February 10th, 1866, she dined at a hotel in London with her husband in Swinburne. She and Rosetti returned to their home about eight o'clock. She was about to go to bed at nine, when Dante Gabriel went out again. When he came back at half past eleven, the room was in darkness. He called to his wife, but received no reply. He found her in bed, unconscious. On the table was a vial. It had contained laudanum. It was empty. He paid her the tribute of burying his poems with her. He had already paid her the great tribute of painting her, and that, often, those large greenish-blue eyes of hers were his guiding stars. Let him who will say that he rides fastest, who rides alone. There are six great artists, and many more, to say him nay. The wife in art, Andrea Del Sarto and Lucretia Fady, won. The faultless painter, though his paintings seem faultless, led a life that was by no means free from mistakes. All went well with him up to the age of twenty. He was born near Florence in fourteen eighty-six, and when but a seven-year-old Goldsmith's apprentice began to show such skill that he was soon afterward sent to Piero de Cosimo, one of the most famous artists in the world. One of the best artists in Florence. He was only twenty years old, when he painted the seven frescoes in the Annunciata from the life of St. Philip. Andrea was the son of Angelo the tailor. His name, Andrea Del Sarto, means the tailor's Andrew, and was not his real name at all, which was Andrea D'Angelo de Francesco. Sometimes he called himself Andrea Del Sarto, sometimes Andrea D'Angelo, and again Andrea D'Angelo Del Sarto. Andrea made his first great mistake by marrying the widow of a hat-maker. Lucretia Fady's cold face was indeed the glory of his pictures, where she is nearly always to be seen in the robes of Virgin, Saint or Angel. As his model she was all that could be desired, yet when he married her, the faultless painter, lost many of his best friends and pupils, and worst of all the ideals of art. Blinded by her beauty, he could not see the failings that were plain to everyone else. All his life Andrea worked hard to support her and her sisters in their extravagances, yet he went on painting faultlessly. His fame spread so far that King Francis I invited him to France and gave him important commissions there. But Lucretia persuaded him to return to Italy. He was granted a month in which to return and bring his wife to France. Francis also entrusted him with money to buy Italian works of art for the Royal Palace. A month passed, Andrea did not return, but purchased a plot of ground in Florence with the King's money and on it built a house for Lucretia. King Francis never received his paintings, and the faultless painter had thrown away a chance of achieving supreme greatness. In 1531 Andrea Del Sarto died of the plague. As he lay on his deathbed, Lucretia fled from the house for fear of infection, yet he left her all his property and, so far as known, never ceased to believe in her. Lucretia lived forty years after the death of her husband. A former pupil of Andrea's was at work one day copying frescoes when a withered old woman came into the hall. She asked him who had painted the fresco. He replied, Andrea Del Sarto, I was the original of that angel. She said, I was Lucretia Fady, the wife of Andrea Del Sarto. Even to the last she was proud of the husband whom she had deserted on his deathbed and whose genius she alone had dwarfed. Frawlipolipi and Lucretia Booty 2 The painter of divine beauties, Fawlipolipi, or as he is often called, Frawlipolipi, was not himself a handsome man. He had rather a full face, large features and thick lips. Laziness and love were always interfering with his work. As a result of extravagance, he was usually in debt and not always careful to get out honestly. Yet the people of his time were kind-hearted enough to overlook boyish faults in an artist who brought so much renown to their country. Fawlipolipi was born into a Florentine Butcher's family about 14002 and his father died soon afterward. He seems to have had little care from his mother, who may, however, have died during his infancy. An aunt took care of him, but finding the boy too great a burden for her slender means turned him over to be educated by the Carmelite friars. The abbot was lenient, for he had the wisdom to see that a boy who drew pictures all over the walls and on his books, when he should have been studying, would probably become an artist. Artists were highly thought of in those days, when the church taught by means of pictures. Fawlipolipi therefore never learned to write good Latin. He studied the frescoes of the chapel instead. Later, when he had finished his studies and gained a name for himself among painters, the abbot granted him permission to leave the monastery in order to give his genius full scope. Monks who had learned to paint were often allowed this privilege. So Fawlipolipi became a great painter. When he went to Prado and saw Lucretia Butti, he was already nearly 50 years old, while she was hardly more than 20. She also was an orphan. Her father, who had been a silk merchant in Florence, left his daughters in the care of Antonio Butti, evidently a harsh guardian, for he put Lucretia and Spinata, both beautiful girls, into the convent of Santa Margarita, against their will, in order to save himself some expense. Fawlipo saw her, used her as model, and later married her by permission of the Pope. The virgins and saints of his paintings had a new spiritual radiance after he saw Lucretia's face. He used her for all manner of subjects, from the virgin to the dancing daughter of Herodias, changing her features to suit as many different characters. Peter Paul Rubens and Helena Firmand, 3 The extraordinary beauty of Helena Firmand, one for her the love of a world famous painter, when she was only 16 years old. Peter Paul Rubens married this girl, and immortalized her charms on many a precious canvas. It was a most fortunate match. Helena was not only beautiful, she had also every attraction of nature and education, and belonged to a wealthy family. Rubens was a widower, and one of the most celebrated painters in Europe. More than that, he was a distinguished and successful statesman. Fortunate throughout his life, brilliant, handsome, and of good family, Rubens was never in doubt of his future. His talent for painting showed itself in boyhood. At the age of 23 he went to Italy, where he soon attracted the notice of the Duke of Mantua. Partly as art expert, partly as diplomat, he went in the Duke's service to all the important cities of Italy. He spent eight years in that country, sometimes painting for his patron, but more often traveling on political missions. Recalled to Antwerp by the serious illness of his mother in 1608, Rubens arrived too late to see her again alive, and no doubt, feeling the strength of home ties, resigned from the surface of the Duke immediately. High positions and great honors awaited him in his native city. His fame grew year by year. Isabella Brent became his wife in 1608. She is described as a rather heavy, Flemish woman, and her face and figure appear frequently in Rubens' work of that period. After her death and before his second marriage, he was called upon to arrange terms of peace between England and Spain. It was the most important event of his life. In Spain he met Velazquez and earned the friendship of King Philip. He was honored in England by Charles I, who presented him with a string of valuable diamonds in appreciation of his services. The painter also strengthened a friendship already established with the Duke of Buckingham. After the successes abroad, Rubens retired to a home in the country, devoting himself more than ever to the work of painting. An alchemist went to him one day, claiming to have discovered the philosopher's stone which turned everything attached into gold. But, objected Rubens, I have discovered it myself. The philosopher's stone exclaimed his visitor, yes, and you shall see it, answered the painter. Leading the astonished guest into his studio, Rubens showed his palette. Helena Firmant was still young when Rubens died. She did not remain long in widowhood, but married the Count of Bergek, with whom so far as is known, she lived in peace and happiness. Rembrandt and Saskia van Ulemburg Rembrandt van Ryn and Saskia van Ulemburg were married in 1634. Saskia, the daughter of a rather wealthy burglmaster, who had died some years before, had been living with one after another of her sisters, for they were all married except herself. Once when she was in Amsterdam a relative, who was posing for a portrait, took her to Rembrandt's studio, where she met the sullen holander, and saw him at his work. He must have been an odd figure in those days, awkward and shy, doing everything in his own queer way. Saskia returned again and again, making a deep impression on the artist. She posed for him several times. Once she was a queen, another time she was a flower girl. Rembrandt centred his whole thought and energy upon her, and as he had just passed the first breathing spell of success they were soon able to marry. Saskia thought only of her husband's happiness. He, in turn, was so deeply in love with her, that he spent most of his leisure hours painting her portrait, and much of his money buying duels and gold ornaments and rich dresses of every description to adorn her. Up to the time of his marriage Rembrandt had been stubborn and morose, not caring for society nor for ordinary pleasures. He was born on the outskirts of Leiden in 1607. His father, a miller, was hardly able to give the boy that education, which is usually needed to become skillful in art. However, Rembrandt did study under Van Swanenburg, who taught him to draw, paint, and make etchings. He set up a studio in the mill, where he painted portrait after portrait of his mother, his sister, and himself. The artist liked better than anything to paint a well-known face over and over again by new lights and with new expressions. After his first success, lesson in anatomy, Rembrandt moved his studio to an old warehouse in Amsterdam. His work became popular. The people of Holland fairly begged for sittings, and soon he was foremost among painters. Yet he paid little attention to anyone but Saskia, and his stubbornness offended patrons, and made enemies of those who should have been his friends. For nine years Rembrandt lived in happiness. Then came misfortune, extravagance carried him into debt, his children died, and soon after his beloved Saskia followed them. His enemies barred his pictures from exhibitions. At last all his property was sold to satisfied creditors. His paintings went out of fashion. Their owners even used the frames again by covering up Rembrandt's canvases of incalculable value with the work of some other artist whose pictures were in vogue at the time. A law in Holland now forbids the removal of a Rembrandt from that country. His countrymen feel that no honour is too high to bestow on the memory of that unfortunate artist who, in 1669, died unrecognised and was buried by charity. Anthony van Dyck and Maria Rothven. Five. Anthony van Dyck's marriage might be called one of convenience. He married Maria Rothven because King Charles I of England, wishing him to settle down, decided on a wife for him. The courtly painter was a spendthrift. He loved company and entertainment, was handsome, refined, well-dressed, and, all things considered, a thorough gentleman. He attracted to his society the greatest of English nobility. Gossip had him in love with so many of the court ladies that the King, fearing his portrait painter would get into serious difficulties, determined once for all to save him by a marriage with a Scottish beauty in the Queen's retinue. Van Dyck offered no objection. The lady, Maria Rothven, was young and very beautiful. Although she brought no dowry except that given by royal generosity, she was considered a very good match for the artist who came of burger stock. Maria's family was related to the stewards, but had been for a long time in disgrace. Van Dyck's only claim to distinction was his art. His father, a well-to-do merchant in Antwerp, where Van Dyck was born in 1599, gave Anthony every opportunity to follow up the art of painting. The boy was, for several years, a pupil of Rubens, whom he made a little jealous by his success in portrait painting. Some of his pictures were better than Rubens. A few years in Italy gave Van Dyck a still higher position among artists. Some said he was the best portrait painter in Europe. Yet in spite of his skill, Van Dyck was disliked by most painters. They lounged around the taverns and ragged clothes, put on borish manners, and made fun of any kind of refinement. To this behaviour he was entirely opposed. They called him the Cavalier Painter, because he saw only the noble side of life, and ignored what was low or common. One could hardly have been found who was better fitted by nature to live and paint among the light-hearted courtiers of Charles I. He welcomed an offer from England and left Antwerp to make his home thereafter on foreign soil. When he married Maria Rathven, Van Dyck was forty years old. He painted some portraits of her, but not many, for his death was near at hand. A journey to Paris in the hope of receiving important commissions there, failed in its object, and brought on a severe attack of the disease from which he had been suffering for years. The painter returned to England. King Charles offered his physician three hundred pounds if he could save Van Dyck's life. But to no purpose, he died the second year after his marriage, one of the greatest portrait painters that ever lived. To his wife he left a considerable fortune, which he had managed to save in spite of an extravagant life. Maria afterward married Sir Richard Price, a Welsh baronet. Rosetti and Elizabeth Sittle One day when Rosetti was painting in his studio, Deverell, a fellow artist, rushed in and exclaimed he had found the ideal woman. She was working in a milliner's shop, he said, but she was a wonderful girl of stately dignity with blue-green eyes and coppery-tinted hair. This girl was Elizabeth Sittle, and from that time on she was the model for Rosetti's mystical dreams in colour. She later became his wife. Dante Gabriel Rosetti was born in England in 1828. The son of an Italian refugee. His parents lived simply, almost in poverty, but with refinement suited to the fostering of art and poetry in their children. The mother believed that one good picture on a plain wall was more beautiful than many worthless decorations. Rosetti used this simplicity in his paintings. He and a number of other artists formed the pre-Rafaelite Brotherhood. This was an organisation that took a love of simplicity as its motto and believed in using simplicity in everything. Besides being an artist of great genius, Rosetti was a poet. He and his sister Christina were the leaders in the pre-Rafaelite movement in poetry. Before he was nineteen he wrote The Blessed Damazelle, a poem that expressed his ideal in womanhood. Elizabeth Sittle proved to be his ideal woman. Ruskin spoke of her as a noble, glorious creature. Later the artist painted a picture to go with the poem, and his model was Elizabeth Sittle. When Rosetti first asked her to pose for him, the ideal beauty thought that he wanted her for fashion plates. She little thought that she was to be made the object of a great artist's life work. Her death plunged Rosetti into lifelong misery, almost insanity. Up to the moment of his own death in 1882 he never ceased to grieve for her. Her eyes were deeper than the depth of waters stilled at even. End of Chapter 22 Chapter 23 of The Mentor II This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Mentor II by Various Spain and Gibraltar by Dwight L. Elmendorf Lecturer and Traveller Department of Travel A trip around the world with Dwight L. Elmendorf, Lecturer and Traveller. Gone is the ancient glory of Spain. To the visitor it appeals chiefly as a country of a splendid past. This is not true, of course, of some of the more popular localities. Barcelona is full of life and commercially enterprising, and Madrid is full of activity and is a natural centre of interest as the capital of the nation. But many of the cities and towns of Spain attract chiefly as interesting and picturesque survivals. They breathe the atmosphere of a former age. We feel the influence of it wherever we turn. Spain is not much travelled by tourists. More would go perhaps if they realised what splendid scenery was there and how rich in historic and romantic associations the country was. Since the days of the first inhabitants, the Iberians and beginning with the Celts who crossed the Pyrenees some 500 years BC, Spain has been invaded by Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals and Visigoths, Arabs and Moors, and each of these races has left evidences of its dominion in monuments of one kind or another, in architectural forms, in roads and buildings and in the language and customs of communities. The interesting Basque people of the northern provinces of Spain are declared by students of history the almost unmixed descendants of the original Iberians. The glory that was Spain's. And in these many years what glory has been Spain's? She has been aptly called an eddy of tribes and races. Under Moorish rule she commanded the Mediterranean, then as a Christian kingdom, beginning with Rodrigo the Sid and Alfonso the Six in the 11th century, and extending through several hundred years under such famous rulers as Ferdinand and Isabella, and later Charles V and Philip II, Spain acquired the whole peninsula and rose to be a great world power. In war she was a dreaded foe of France, England and the Netherlands. Her armada for years swept the seas. In search of treasure and to extend Spain's power and possessions, Vasco de Gama discovered India and Columbus opened up the new continents of the Western world. All the achievements of Spain in the brilliant past are brought home to the visitor who spends even a few weeks in that country. So many things in Spain are interesting for what they were. The visitor soon comes to know the mood of Washington Irving who dwelt for a time in the Alhambra. His impressions are like those of a beautiful dream. Irving withdrew from the world of his day and immersed himself in the romance of the past. That is the mood in which the traveller will enjoy himself most when visiting many places in Spain. The Land of the Dons The very entrance to Spain is a fit preparation for the strange, interesting and beautiful things to be seen there. No one can forget the day that he crosses the impressive boundary between France and Spain, winding about and tunneling through the majestic Pyrenees. Once this superb mountain range is passed the traveller feels as if he had come upon a different world from any that he has seen before. His attention turns first, most naturally to the great cities which differ essentially from one another. Perhaps no two more contrasting cities could be selected than Toledo and Madrid. Toledo was from the earliest times a capital city. The Romans, Goths, Moors and finally the Christians made it the headquarters of authority. It was the scene of the triumph of that world admired hero of the 11th century, Rodrigo the Sid. Toledo is in all respects an impressive relic of bygone splendour. Madrid, on the other hand, is a modern city. In the days when Toledo was most magnificent and had a population of over 200,000 Madrid was a little town. Today Madrid numbers over 500,000 inhabitants while Toledo's population has dwindled to less than 30,000. In Toledo we find many things as they have been for hundreds of years. The city is still famous for its swords. The Toledo Blade is known the world over today as it was in Roman times. The traveller does well to visit Toledo first. Its very situation is extraordinary. The River Tagus flows about it and almost binds it in like a rope. The banks of the river are rocky and steep and spanned by several interesting old stone bridges. A City of the Past The effect of Toledo viewed from the south and looking across the gorge through which the river flows is remarkable. The city is enclosed within ancient Moorish and Gothic fortifications and presents an aspect of a jumble of helstops dominated by two great structures, the cathedral and the Alcazar. Enter Toledo and you find novelty and picturesqueness on every side. The streets are narrow and crooked. The houses are blind and forbidding on the outside reserving their attractions for their inner courts. Everything about you is strange and curious and full of historic significance. If you wish to get the history of Spain in condensed form you will find it in Toledo. The Cathedral is the most important feature of the city and one of the finest and most interesting in Europe. The religious life of Spain centred there for centuries. On that site a Christian temple stood in the 6th century. When the Moors came they made a mosque of it. Then Alfonso VI took possession in 1085 and the Moors were driven out. In the 13th century the old building was torn down and the present edifice was begun. During 265 years it was in course of construction, a life work for many architects and artisans. And there the great archbishops of Toledo controlled the government and civilization of Spain for years. Everything of importance that made Spanish history was then in their hands. You are made to realize this when you visit the cathedral. It contains many valuable relics of history and art treasures. When you have seen these go to the tower. The view will repay you. The most prominent object to be seen from there is the Alcazar standing on the highest ground in the city. This building is the phoenix that has risen over the conflagrations of former structures on that site. The original building was a Roman citadel. When the Cid reigned supreme in the 11th century he resided there. Afterward fires consumed the building and it was rebuilt several times. It has been in turn a castle, a palace, a cadet academy and now it stands there a stately and imposing monument to the past. Madrid the capital of Spain Madrid was made the capital by Philip II in 1560. It was not by nature attractive. The winter winds are cruel and the summer heat is intense. The country round about is bleak and for years after it became the capital it remained a city of small buildings and unimposing appearance. But the court being there it was the center of all political and religious activities. Arts and letters received their greatest stimulus under the patronage of church and court. Cervantes lived there and it was in Madrid that he finished his immortal Don Quixote. The Bourbons came into power in the 18th century and then the great royal palace was built. After that Madrid increased rapidly in population and improved in appearance. Today it is a city of great activity full of life, gaiety and fashion. In short the Spanish Paris. The two things that command most interest in Madrid are the palace and the museum. The palace which stands on high land on the site of the old Mauritius Alcazar was erected between 1738 and 1764 and is a most imposing structure no matter from what side it is viewed. Some idea of its immensity may be gathered from the statement that it covers 26,900 square yards of ground and its sides are 500 feet long. Like many great structures in Spain it is built of native granite. It is not easy to gain access to the interior of the palace. Sometimes in the absence of the royal family permission may be obtained and those who have the privilege of being admitted find there are many relics of historic value, a priceless collection of tapestry, a number of most interesting old works of art and a library containing many volumes of unique worth. The collection of paintings in the art museum is one of the finest in all Europe. There is a magnificent representation of the Spanish school and especially of the great painter Velasquez. There are 60 pictures of his including some of his most brilliant works. There are also many splendid examples of the art of Marillo and many paintings by Rubens and Van Dyke. The Escorial Situated 27 miles from Madrid is the village and palace of Escorial. The Escorial is a most extraordinary building. Many of the Spanish people regard it as the eighth wonder of the world. It is a fitting memorial of the cold cruel monarch who built it. It is related that Philip II constructed the Escorial in fulfilment of a vow made during the Battle of St Quentin which took place on St Lawrence's day, August 10, 1557. King Philip declared that he would, in case of victory, erect a memorial building to St Lawrence that would transcend any structure of its kind that had ever been built before. St Lawrence, it will be remembered, was burnt to death on a gridiron and it is said that, in memorial of this, the structure of the Escorial was planned to resemble a gridiron in form. There is nothing authoritative to substantiate this tradition, however. It is simply the story that goes with the place. This monstrous building was begun in 1563 and was completed in 1584. It is a monastery and a palace at the same time. Its vastness overwhelms the mind. At first sight you are awed by the solemn, stern and forbidding aspect of the building and this first impression is deepened after going through the immense courts, corridors and chambers. It has but little ornament to relieve its severity. It is the work of a morbid and superstitious man. As one visitor has put it, Philip was the proudest among kings and the most bigoted among devotees. What wonder that he should build a convent and palace and make its costliest room his sepulchre? The Escorial staggers description. Perhaps an adequate idea of it may be had from a brief statement of facts. It cost three and one-quarter million dollars and covers five hundred thousand square feet. It is seven hundred feet long, five hundred and eighty feet wide and is divided into sixteen courts. The great towers at the corners rise two hundred feet. The main cupola or tower above the church in the centre is three hundred and twenty feet in height. When we add that there are eighty-six staircases, eighty-nine fountains, fifteen cloisters, twelve hundred doors, two thousand six hundred windows and miles of corridors, we sum up in a measure the astounding dimensions of this wonderful structure. The Escorial is well kept by the Augustinian brothers who are in charge. The surrounding terraces and gardens are carefully cultivated and these outer adornments help a little to soften the austerity of the stupendous pile of granite buildings. In this country of contrast there is no more striking contrast than that between the cruel Escorial and the romantic Alhambra. It is pleasant to turn south to Granada for the greatest treat of all for a visitor in Spain awaits him there. Granada is picturesquely situated in a valley on ground that rises toward the hill of the Alhambra. The view from the highest points is beautiful. Granada is not especially attractive in itself. It is chiefly a city of the past. It is the Alhambra that draws the visitor there. This celebrated building is a dream of more-ish magnificence made real. It is impossible to do justice to its wondrous beauties in brief space. An extensive literature has been written in description and in appreciation of its architectural splendours and of its romantic interest. Washington Irving has done most for the subject in his Tales of the Alhambra. He lived there for a time and wrote there during his stay. You will find his name registered in the visitor's book under the date of 1829. The Alhambra, like many more-ish buildings, is severely simple on the outside. But when you enter, your senses are captivated by the exquisite beauty of design and decoration that stretches out before you as you go through the courts and halls of this wonder palace. While in the whole it presents an effect of uniformity, there is infinite variety and detail, and there are countless forms of beauty about you that captivate the mind and fill the soul with delight. Aside from the Alhambra, there are two buildings in Grenada that command special attention. The Palace of Charles V, which adjoins the Alhambra, and the Palace of the General Lifer. Both of them have features of great architectural beauty. The former building was never completed. The Palace of the General Lifer is situated to the east of the Alhambra and is 165 feet higher. It was the summer residence of the Moorish kings. From there the finest view about Grenada can be had, covering the Alhambra below, and stretching far across the Vega, or plain, to the distant mountains. The interior of the General Lifer in its time must have been as beautiful as that of the Alhambra. The most beautiful spot is the garden of the General Lifer, with its terraces, pools, grottoes, hedges, and overhanging trees. Seville It is a great relief to turn from the squalor in Grenada to the comforts and delights of Seville. There is no town or city in Spain that can compare in charm with Seville. By its snow-white cleanliness, its fragrant fruit and flowers, its luxurious foliage, its gay and harmonious life, it invites the traveller to stay, and few can resist the invitation. Once introduced to the home life of the inhabitants, the visitor is apt to renounce gladly for a time or thought of departure. Everywhere about him is competent, comfort and content. It seems as if families vie with one another in making their homes attractive. The family life is in the inner court, or patio, that is the summer parlor, and there in the midst of flowers, plants and beautiful birds, friendly parties gather in happy companionship. It is in Seville, it seems to me, that the life of the native Spaniard may be seen in its most attractive light. The two most notable sites in Seville are the Alcazar, which was the palace of the Moorish kings, and afterward the home of Spanish rulers, and the cathedral, which is one of the finest, largest and most beautiful gothic churches to be found anywhere. The Alcazar has much of the beauty that is to be found in the Alhambra. Many of the interior decorations are not of the original building, but were the result of a restoration, and in this work many of the designs were frankly borrowed from the Alhambra. The cathedral is one of the largest and most beautiful in Europe. Within this great building there are so many interesting and valuable works of historic and art interest that it might fairly be called a museum. One feature of the exterior of the cathedral arrests the eye of a New Yorker at once, the Tower. He is apt to exclaim on sight of it, the Madison Square Tower. The similarity is close. When the plans of the Madison Square building were made, the Tower of Seville was copied. We have gone now far to the south. A few miles brings us to Cadiz on the ocean coast, or Malaga on the Mediterranean. The distance from either of these two attractive cities to Gibraltar is short. Gibraltar, the impregnable. And when we reach Gibraltar the change of scene and life is abrupt and almost startling. If we go to Gibraltar by the road from Spain we cross a narrow strip called neutral ground. It is arbitrarily fixed territory between Spanish and British ground. It is so low that it can hardly be seen from a distance. The effect is to make Gibraltar seem like an island. In case of emergency it would not be difficult to blow up this neutral strip and make an actual separation. The Rock of Gibraltar has been for years the symbol of stability and of strength. It is, in a military sense, the key to the Mediterranean. It was taken by the British in 1704 during the War of the Spanish Succession by Admiral George Rook who commanded the British fleet. It has been fortified by the English government in a manner that is most discouraging to anyone contemplating a hostile advance through the straits. The shape of Gibraltar is that of an enormous lion. As Thakare says, it crouches there to guard the passage for its British mistress. At the base of the Rock are batteries, up on the summit are guns of heavy caliber and over its face are holes through which cannon muzzles look out across the water like sullen and malignant eyes. Gibraltar is over 1400 feet high and is composed of limestone. Under its present conditions of fortification it is declared to be impregnable. It looks it. At the foot of the Great Rock is a town of 30,000 inhabitants of whom 6,500 are soldiers composing the British garrison. In this town is to be found a cosmopolitan mixture of men and the character of it shifts from time to time according to conditions of traffic through the straits. There is enough to entertain a visitor for a day. Life there for a long time must grow monotonous. The impressions, however, of a single day at Gibraltar are not forgotten. You carry away the conviction that whatever might happen to anything else in this world Gibraltar is likely to stay. Spain and Gibraltar. Toledo, the ancient capital. 1. Rodrigo, last of the Gothic kings of Spain, heard in his palace at Toledo that the Moors had crossed from Africa to Gibraltar. A little army led by Tariq landed in 711 and marched northward, conquering as it went. King Rodrigo, with a great force of Spaniards, met them in Andalusia. He commanded the centre. The wings were led by King Whittersa's sons, who, hoping to recover the country that Rodrigo had taken from their father, joined the Moors and pressed with them into battle. Rodrigo was surrounded and cut down. The Moors marched northward, taking city after city in the name of Muhammad till all Spain was theirs. The last of the Gothic kings had fallen. From that day to this Toledo has never regained her position as the capital of Spain. In the royal palace Tariq found twenty-five crowns of the old Gothic kings, golden and richly jeweled. The sands of David, written on gold leaf with dissolved rubies, and the emerald table of Solomon. Those crowns may still be seen, but no one has ever seen the other treasures. The Moorish kings, though they ruled Toledo mildly, had no end of trouble from the haughty nobility, who, robbed of their high position, were always in revolt against the conquerors. At last Sultan Hakim decided to punish his unruly subjects. He gave them a governor of their own race, who pretended to hate the foreigners, but was secretly in league with Hakim. Amron soon won the hearts of his people, and built a great castle in the middle of the city. There he held a reception for Prince Abdulrahman, to which all the nobles and rich citizens of Toledo were invited. Feeling the honour of royal presence, which their city had not enjoyed for many years, the Toledans went by thousands to the castle. Told to enter one by one, noble and grandee went in, but not to feast. Five thousand lost their heads in the trap. Amron thought, no doubt, that it was a good joke, but he had not much time to enjoy it. When the people realised what he had done, a mob gathered and burned his castle with Amron in it. Toledo was early freed from Moorish rule, and the greatest of those who helped to maintain her independence was Rodrigo Diaz the Sid, who, next to Napoleon, is held by many to be the foremost heroic figure in European history. He held important court officers under Alfonso, living in the Alcazar at Toledo. Many poems and stories have been written about the Sid. He belonged to a noble family, married the granddaughter of Alfonso V, and later made himself a king. The fate of a battle was never in doubt if the Sid was fighting, for his side was sure of victory. Toward the end of his life, after hundreds of battles and duels, he made his most famous conquest, the taking of Valencia from the Moors in 1094. He ruled well and justly for the next five years over Valencia and Mercia, and in 1099 died of anger over the defeat of his favourite lieutenant. The Sid is Spain's hero and saint, familiar to all in legend and in song. Madrid the capital. Two. Standing on the grand stairway of the royal palace, his hand upon the balustrade, and looking at the splendor about him, Napoleon Bonaparte said to his brother Joseph to whom he had given the throne of Spain, you are better hells than I am. That was the emperor's opinion of the royal residence in Madrid. To Napoleon, the conquest of this ancient and famous land of Spain was one of his greatest victories. Many people, when they first see the country around Madrid, are surprised at the lack of trees there. It is known that the mountains of that region were once covered with a heavy growth of forest, which has since been cut away. The trees were failed to put money into the royal treasury. One reason they were never replanted is that many of the Castilians have a strong dislike for trees. They think only of the birds that nest among the branches and feed in grain fields. They forget that trees are both useful and beautiful in themselves, giving shade and moisture and beautifying the scenery. In later years a wise government has come to see that the slight loss of farmland is not nearly so important as the effect woodlands have on climate. Groves now dot the landscape with patches of refreshing green, and the climate about Madrid is already improving. It is hoped that the bleak country which now grows only a spare crop of corn will become fertile and fruitful again when new forests have influenced a more regular rainfall and steadier temperature. Scientific forestry can probably redeem the era that was committed centuries ago. Madrid, though a modern city, has been from the beginning a centre of art and literature. Velázquez went there from Seville to spend the greater part of his life. It was there that Cervantes, author of Don Quixote, lived and died. More important, perhaps, than any other figure in the Spanish drama, was López de Viga, a native of the city. He led an eventful life while writing poems and plays with wonderful readiness. According to his own statement more than a hundred of his plays were written so quickly that it took only 24 hours from the time he started to compose each one of them until it had been produced on the stage. He wrote 1800 plays. He is said to have printed 21,300,000 lines, which, if we can believe his own account, was only a part of all that he wrote. To do this he must have written nearly 900 lines a day all through his life. Many other artists and writers have worked in Madrid, and the Spanish capital is still a well-known centre of culture. Alcazar at Seville, 3 Frankly amid its gardens that glow with roses and orange blossoms, the Alcazar of Seville, Palace of the Old Castilian Kings, stands now as it stood in the days of the Moors. Here and there a ceiling, a stairway or a colonnade, damaged by fire or earthquake, has been repaired according to architectural ideas of more modern times. But in the main those Moorish kings who built it could sleep, if they were there today, in their own rooms undisturbed by any feeling of strangeness. The site on which the Alcazar was built is probably the oldest in Seville. The palace replaces an old Gothic castle which had been erected on the foundations of a Roman villa. Uncertain traditions and the imagination of historical writers have pictured the houses of shepherds on the same spot before history began. There are many stories about the Alcazar, both true and fabulous. The Court of Maidens took its name from one of these. It was said that a tribute of a hundred maidens paid to the Muhammadan ruler had been lodged in that part of the Alcazar. History does not show that the Caliph ever asked for such a tribute, and it is probable that the Court of Maidens had not been built at the time when this incident is supposed to have taken place. Nevertheless such a story has grown up and has given the Court a name that it will doubtless bear for all time. After Castile had thrown off Moorish rule, Seville was made the capital of Spain. For several centuries Christian kings lived in the Alcazar, adding somewhat to the original structure as the Moors had left it. The name of Pedro is more closely connected than any other Spanish ruler with the history and fiction of the building. He was called Pedro the Cruel. A grim sense of humour and a habit of going through the streets of Seville in disguise have made him the subject of many odd tales and rumours. Some of these stories are merely whimsical. He is said to have met four candidates for a judge's position beside a pool in the gardens where they had gone to find him. Pedro, turning to the first, asked him what was floating in the pool. An orange replied the candidate without hesitation. The second and third gave him the same answer. The fourth fished out the piece of fruit with his staff, examined it and replied more accurately, half an orange. Pedro immediately gave him the appointment. Cathedral of Seville. Four. There is a Spanish proverb that says, whom God favours, he gives a house in Seville. The privilege of living in that bright, gay city is considered by a Spaniard to be the height of happiness. Other cities are larger, wealthier or more important politically than Seville, but none holds a higher place in the hearts of the Spanish people. When in the beginning of the 15th century the old cathedral was damaged by an earthquake, a meeting was held to discuss what should be done to restore it. Then one proposed that, instead of repairing the old church, they should build a new edifice, larger and more magnificent than had ever been imagined. They planned a cathedral that should make all who saw it wonder at the daring of those who began it. What the public funds would not supply, they agreed to furnish out of their own purses. Only 117 years were consumed in the erection of this wondrous structure, which is a short time as old cathedrals go. After St Peter's at Rome, in the Mesquite at Cordova, it is the largest church in the world. It is 414 feet long, 271 feet wide and 100 feet high to the top of the nave. The immense pillars, as you look down the church between them, seem to diminish in the distance to the thickness of reeds. Many another cathedral could stand inside the nave of this one. There are numerous churches in the city, most of the older ones are built on the foundations of mosques. The church of La Caridad has a strange legend connected with it. Don Miguel de Manara, the founder, had been a profligate in his youth, a sort of Don Juan, and was known far and wide for his excesses. One night when he was returning home alone, he lost his way and wandered about in a daze, unable to find his home. In imagination he met a funeral procession, and stopping one of the bearers, inquired who it was they were taking to eternal rest at such an hour. Don Miguel de Manara, he replied, greatly surprised at hearing his own name, Don Miguel uncovered the face and saw there his own features. The procession immediately vanished, but left him so deeply impressed that he was converted and built a church and a hospital. Siege of Granada. 5. The city of Granada was the last Moorish stronghold in Spain. The usurpers had been driven from province after province, while the power of Castile increased in all the country round. Only the province of Granada held firm. Even there, losses in war had so weakened the Moors that their kings paid tribute to the Christian rulers down to the time of Muli Hassan. He was a proud and cruel monarch, so fond of the dignity his fathers had held that he not only withheld the tribute, but even made inroads into Spanish territory. A ten years war followed. Spain determined to drive her enemy out of Europe once and for all. In battle after battle the Christians narrowed Hassan's kingdom till the people of Granada rose in revolt against the ruler whose bad luck and tyranny made him so unpopular. He was dethroned and the kingdom given to Boabdel, his son. Boabdel was, if anything, more unfortunate than his father, for Ferdinand and Isabella pushed their conquest little by little up to the very walls of Granada. A long siege followed. The Moors, as they lost the power they had held so long over the rich and delightful lands of Spain, tried every trick of warfare without effect. Ferdinand had given orders not to attack the city. He intended to win by starving his enemies rather than by fighting, while the Moors did all they could to provoke a battle. One daring knight named Yaf rode out of the gates. Unexpectedly he made his way to the Christian camp and threw a spear into the ground close by the royal pavilion as an insult to Queen Isabella. In return, Hernando de Polgar, disregarding the order of Ferdinand, broke through the gates of Granada with a few followers and pinned a tablet on the door of a mosque with his dagger. Upon the tablet were the words Ave Maria. Thus the knights of both sides showed their recklessness under the long siege. The Spanish army lay so long and camped on the vega, or plain, within view of the city walls and the magnificent buildings of the Alhambra, that at last, after the tents had been accidentally burned, Ferdinand ordered a city to be built for the soldiers. Each of the towns of Spain sent its share of materials, and in a remarkably short time Santa Fe, as it was called, stood side by side with Granada. When all the vega was laid waste, when the moors were starving and discontented, and a hostile walled city frowned in sight of the Alhambra, Boabdil at length made terms of peace. He said farewell to the palace of Moorish kings, and all the luxuries he had enjoyed as its ruler, surrendered the keys of the city to Ferdinand, and went away greatly humbled. Never afterward did the moors hold power in Spain. Rock of Gibraltar. 6. One night over two centuries ago, a band of Spaniards, led by a goat herd, crept up the rock of Gibraltar to St. Michael's Cave, where dawn overtook them, and where they remained all through the next day. As soon as darkness had fallen again, they scaled the wall, surrounded the signal house, and in a few moments overpowered the guard. The British in the fortress never dreamed of danger so close at hand. Ropes and ladders were lowered stealthily over the precipice, and the Spaniards, feeling sure of victory, brought up several hundred men for the attack. If all had gone well, Gibraltar might have been in the hands of Spain again before sunrise, but some part of the work was clumsily done, for British sentries caught the alarm, and a body of grenadiers, hastily called together, rushed out upon their midnight assailants. Gibraltar was saved by the British. Some of the Spaniards they hurled over the cliff, the rest surrendered, and were taken prisoners. The history of Gibraltar was, for many centuries, one of sieges and captures. The rock was first known to the Greeks and Romans as one of the pillars of Hercules. The other, Mount Abila, stands on the African shore. But at that period, when ships rarely sailed out of the Mediterranean, the pillar was unimportant to any great nation in war. It fell into the hands of Phoenicians, Romans, Carthaginians, and Visigoths at different periods in history. Tarek, landing there when he crossed from Africa into Spain, built a castle on the rock, which was therefore called Jebel el Tarek, or Hill of Tarek, the original form of the name of Gibraltar. It fell into the hands of England after the Spaniards and Moors had fought over it for centuries. Once again, in the great siege that began in 1779 and lasted more than three years, England came dangerously near losing the fortress. Spain and France took advantage of British losses in America to open fire on the Mediterranean stronghold. After the garrison of over 5,000 men had been reduced to starvation, and only the bravery of General Elliot could keep them together, Gibraltar was bombarded from the mainland. Just when his command seemed lost under the strain of attack and of hardships endured so long, the Scotsman led his troops to the attack, and, taking the much larger Spanish army by surprise, drove them back and burned their fortifications. Again Spain and France attacked from the sea, but Elliot burned their ships with red hot cannonballs. The struggle was renewed from time to time or during the siege, until at last peace was proclaimed. General Elliot returning home was received with the highest military honours for his courage. England has been offered all of Spain's possessions in Africa in exchange for the one great sterile rock, yet nothing will induce her to give up that hold on the gate of the Mediterranean. End of Spain and Gibraltar