pinsisveirspasagertcazeqess eigeegheessrsre: SSE SSIS SNS ESSE Hi ne ih i i ih PICTURESQUE SPAIN Whigs hie = LANDSCAPE SUE eOeeitt ee. PEO Ple ay Pveret HebE LL S$ C HER Hee W VY ©-Ri Ke BRE Nab ARNO oSep Ul Bossi ERs PRINTED IN GERMANY - , ~ an A all : 7 ae ao ee 7 ‘2 — a fa id lpg ae ont) Z ; ' ch an 7d ale < 7 * s fe er oe ht 2 Chae a ~ ae “Se be . tee Sy ee Pod 7 (e., 7 uh ‘ . wig = (ene ss i Ly bees = s h A= bot ve aed COPYRIGHT BY ERNST WASMUTH A.G., BERI WE GETTY CENTER - MOST HUMBLY DEDICATED eee TO HIS MAJESTY KING ALFONSO Xill. OF : SPAIN rs » 4 re yt - a iF » oy Tee we y es o aa! =a y ae AAS ae. ey ok a wes a Sor aerate | o ie? ye _ e Br at ae. pain is one great open-air museum containing the cultural wealth of the most S varied epochs and peoples. On the walls of the Altamari cave is blazoned that much admired steer painted thousands of years ago by men of the Ice Age. In Barcelona stand the fantastic buildings of neo-Castilian present-day art. Celts, lberians, Romans, Carthaginians, Moors and Goths have fought and struggled for supremacy in Spain. Of all this the stones tell us to-day. They are the chronicles. They relate of bitter strife; of the culture and art aspirations belonging to times gone by. Much has vanished into dust and ruin. That which has survived time’s fretting tooth serves as a giant bridge to lead us back to the past. Fate was kind enough to let me spend five years in Spain. Caught there by the war while engaged in studies, | was cut off from home. | made use of my involuntary stay to become acquainted with the country in its furthermost corners. | roved to and fro from the pinnacles of the Pyrenees to the shores of Tarifa, from the palm forest of Elché to the forgotten Hurdes inhabitants of Estremadura. On all my lonely wanderings | was accompanied by my faithful camera: we covered over 45000 kilometres together in Spain. We kept our eyes open diligently. | say we, for in addition to mine was a precious glass eye in the shape of the Zeiss lens. Whereas my eyes only made me the intellectual recipient of what we saw, that of my travelling companion made it a pictorial permanency. | took over 2000 photographs during our peregrinations. This volume only presents a small selection. It was not easy to make the final choice. Many a picture had to be omitted to which | was attached, either for its peculiarity or its character. l went at no one’s instigation through Spain but that of my own in search of the beautiful. | was not guided by any constraining professional principles. Beautiful art treasures, geographical peculiarities, enchanting landscapes, interesting customs that attracted my attention were retained by my camera. | followed the same lines in making my selections for publication. 1 entitle this volume “Picturesque Spain’. Much will be unknown to many. | begin however with a spot famous throughout the world. — And yet | was bound to. Like the pilgrim who is drawn to the fabled Fontana Trevi once he has drunk of its waters, so too was | drawn again and again to Granada in my wanderings. | believe too that | have succeeded in presenting the Alhambra from one or two new points of view. Who indeed could exhaust this well of beauty? Nor could | pass heedlessly by Cordoba, Seville and Toledo, for these towns are starting points. — Finger-posts to unknown Spain. Without these monuments of ancient times, those parts of Spain situate far from the high-roads remain an almost insol- vable riddle. My pictures must speak for themselves. Those who know how to ask them will find that they tell much. For this reason | shall limit myself to but a few introductory words. They serve to connect the known with the unknown; to throw light on the paths along which | journeyed in Spain. Vil Granada! Thy name is music; a joyous chord of beauty} To pass the spring within thy gateways is to walk the heights of life. Spring has cast a shower of blossoms over the town and woven a delicate green carpet around the Alhambra. How many many centuries has it not worshipped thus yearly at the feet of the castle? Long ago passionate Moorish women decorated their raven hair there with rosy almond blossoms. — lt is long since that the glory of those days has departed. Perhaps this is why the castle walls look down so sadly at the beauty of this blissful vernal soil. Bidding defiance in the grandeur of their strength the towers of the Alhambra arise. Their fiery red lights skywards like the flames on giant altars.*) Is it possible that these massive cyclopean walls should hide a fairy-land? Impatiently we climb the castle mount. Reaching an old stone gateway ornamented with pomegranates, the noise of the streets is left behind as we enter a yew grove whose ancient giant stems are ivy~grown; blue myrtle covers the ground, the lights gleam golden through the foliage, the wind murmurs among the branches, nightingales sing in the boscage, swallows dart twittering over the tree tops, water hurries babbling down the hilly slope. | All this seems like a miracle in Spain so poor in forests. It is as though another world had opened its gates. , The great Gate of Judgment is passed, and an inconspicuous door leads to the Court of the Myrtles. Here one feels surrounded by the spirit of the Orient. Delicate jasper and alabaster columns support the airy arches which are swung like lace veils from arcade to arcade. The emerald-green waters of the fountain gaze dreamily skywards and at all the bright beauty of the scene. Then there is the Court of the Lions, subject of so many songs, with the filigreed architecture of its covered walks. Enchanting in its delicate tracery and beauty, it is a fairy-tale, a poem in stone infinitely rhythmic with music. And indeed, music 1s the only language that can render such beauty. The magnificent halls are full of a wealth of ornamentation. The walls are rainbow- like with the colours of Persian carpets and Cashmere shawls. Arabic inscriptions are scrolled along these labyrinths of colour, praising in exalted words the mystic beauty of the halls. One runs joyously: “God has filled me with such a plentitude of beauty that even the stars stay in their course enchanted to gaze on me.” Once beautiful sultanas looked out from the “Seat of Admiration’” (as the Arabs called that jewel of the Alhambra, the Mirador de Daraca,) into the pretty garden filled with the heavy scent of roses, jasmines and oleanders. A swaying mass of tangled climbing plants are festooned from laurel to cypress, and from cypress to orange-tree. In the middle there is a marvellously delicate fountain basin from the edges of which the water slides and drips with tuneful sound as if it fain would tell of long forgotten beauteous days. We leave the glittering fairy-palace full of memories of the Arabian Nights, and our lips whisper the wish of the Arabic poem writ over a little niche: “May Heaven’s blessings rest upon these castle halls As long as pilgrims wend their way to Mecca’s walls!” Nay, as long as clouds sail the skies, and seekers after beauty rove on earth} This is the mood one is in when climbing further up the mountain to the Moorish summer palace, the Generalife. We are met, as it were, and shown the way by a double row of slim black-green cypresses — dark trees of silence. *) Vide pictures I—22, 25. Bracketed figures in the text refer to the respective views. Vill The Generalife is enthroned far up on the heights, and embedded in terrace-shaped gardens. The gardens! In them nature has enfolded all her abounding wealth of colour. Crimson~ramblers, wistarias, vines and ivy smother the walls. Mangolias, oleanders, almond trees, laurels, cypresses, araucarias, olive trees, agaves, palms and mimosa vie with one another for precedence. Flaming pomegranate blossoms, blood-red roses, violet mallows, blue fleurs-de-lis, white jasmine, yellow narcissi, and golden oranges in dark green foliage are a riot of colour. Ball shaped myrtles surround the little fountain, listening to the babbling of its silver waters, and in the twigs the song of birds greeting nature in her holiday garments. Wondrous peace broods o’er this land. Through trees and halls and wall arches there is a magnificent view of the Alhambra and the multi-coloured houses of the town at its feet, and further on to the picturesque Albaicin, and over cactus-grown Sacro- monte with its gypsy cave~dwellings, and still further to the snow-capped Sierra Nevada. Another glance shows the fertile plains of the Vega through which the clear waters of the Genil flow. However full of radiant happiness the day may have been, it is outshone by the sinking sun casting a golden halo over the country-side. The walls of the Alhambra, once so fiercely fought for, stand forth as though dipped in blood. The distant moun- tains glitter golden-bronze, and the snowy sides of the Sierra Nevada scintillate in flames. Slowly the fire dies down, and a chill spectral white falls upon the snow summits. The eventide is there and with it the stars. The Spaniards have coined a proud sentence: “Quien no ha visto Granada, no ha visto nada!” He who has not seen Granada has seen nought! And | should like to add: He who has seen Granada and the Alhambra on sunny spring days bears with him a talisman to ward off sorrows in dull days, and can never be completely unhappy again in life. The Mosque, Cordova. A nation set forth to convert the world to its faith. Its battle-cry in this holy war was Allah! Victory after victory was gained, till finally the triumphal march of fanaticism was stopped by the opposing faith of its religious adversaries. The waves receded, and the Cross triumphed over the Crescent. This struggle of two faiths and two continents left indelible marks on the fields of battle. These wars had been carried on in the name of God. Sacred edifices were erected to the victor. On the ruins of the mosque arose the most beautiful cathedral in the world as token of victory. Spain never would have received the impress she bears to- day without those bitter religious wars. Cordova was the jewel among Moorish occidental towns, destined to outshine the sister cities Damascus and Bagdad in the far Orient. It was here that all the wealth and pomp of Moorish domination was displayed. Cordova’s population exceeded a million souls. It was the seat of Arabic art and profound learning; the centre of religious life. The muezzin called the faithful to prayers from 3000 minarets. Cordova became a new Mecca which drew crowds of pilgrims from the East to the West. What has now become of this metropolis? A shadow! Wandering through narrow streets of the town one seems to be in Cordova of a thousand years ago. The old cobbled pavements are probably the same, the houses too, behind whose trellised windows the harem was hidden. The old crooked, narrow and confused mass of streets are still there. Once in a while a palm is seen leaning over white walls across the street; open doors offer views into pleasant court-yards. IX The Mezquita, the Mosque, stands like a dark rock surrounded by the white trembling light of the sea of houses. A wonderful gateway leads to the Orange Court. The fruit and flowers of these trees perfume the air with incense. High up, backed by the blue sky, the palm trees are waving in the wind. Fountains are plashing. Once they served to refresh burnoosed dusty and foot-sore pilgrims come from afar to serve their God here. The faithful bathed in these fountains before purifying their souls in Allah’s house. — Now the fountains are perpetually surrounded by the town maidens who come to fetch a cooling draught in their finely curved earthenware jugs. The impression on entering the forest of columns that support the mosque is both unexpected and overpowering. ls this not a petrified palm wood? And does not this stony grove incorporate the conception of infinity? There is a mystic dusk among these columns that lends to them an endless space of silence and eternity: the symbo] of belief. It is to the credit of the victorious Christians that they did not cool their religious ardour by destroying this Islamitic place of worship. It is extremely regrettable that their descendants have treated this monument of Mohammedan culture with such carelessness. The mosque became a Christian church. Where once the cry of ‘Allah illah Allah)” echoed thousandfold, “Praise be the Lord!”’ is now sung. The first deed was to erect altars in the door-niches. Then seventy pillars were laid low, and a choir with the High-Altar erected in their stead: a church within a church. Charles V. was reluctant to give his permission for these alterations. When he came to Cordova and saw what had been done, he exclaimed in perturbation: “What you are building can be seen anywhere. You have destroyed what was unique in the world.*) Untouched in its pristine beauty, hidden in semi-darkness, not far from the Holy of Holies of the Christian church, stands the Holy of Holies of the mosque, the Mihrab or prayer-niche in which the Koran was kept. It is a jewel of Moorish art. Whereas the rest of the mosque columns are connected by double horse-shoe arches, banded inred and white, here the beautifully chased dentaded arches rise straight to the lovely curved dome. The niche socle is white marble of lace-like texture above which a profusion of colours glow: blood-red, rust brown, dark blue violet interwoven with a sublime sheen of gold. Perhaps the mosaic walls and lettered scrolls upon them have in some mystical manner caught the light of the thousand swinging lamps that once had cast their soft rays through the dim shades of space. For six long centuries all these glowing colours were hidden. Before Cordova was surrendered to the Christians the sanctuary was walled up. It was only discovered in 1815. We pass entranced along the colonnaded aisles, enthraled by the wondrous beauty of this miracle in stone. It is like awakening from a fantastic dream to set foot again in the blinding sun of the silent town that has become the shrine of one of the most precious jewels in the world (SO—60). Moorish scenes far from the beaten track: A burning hot day in August. — The air trembles in the heat over the olive trees. The day hangs heavy in the blue vault of heaven. | had been wandering for long long hours, when all of a sudden my eyes were caught by a fata morgana: wafted perhaps from the coast of Morocco? No, it was *) Cordova was taken soon after the battle of Jerez (711). Abd-ur-rahman lL. the founder of the Omaijaden dynasty began to build the mosque in 785. The columns (their number is stated at between 1400 and 1500) were collected from buildings in all countries: Byzantium, Rome, Carthage, Nimes, Narbonne, etc.; hence their variety of form and material (marble, porphyry, jasper, alabaster). In 1235 Cordova was taken by. the Christians. The erection of the choir was begun in 1523. no mirage. Impossible! Yet it did not disappear as | approached. Strange indeed was the scene: houses scattered like dice over a mountain (91). A timid lad of whom | asked the name of the spot, slunk shyly past me. My map was of no assistance to me. At last | was informed that | had arrived at “la muy noble y bel ciudad Mochagar, llave y amparo del reino de Granada”. ‘‘What,” | asked “this hamlet still calls itself the key and guardian of the kingdom of Granada? But that kingdom was destroyed half a thousand years ago when the Moors were driven from Granada.” A miracle must have happened here that time should have remained stationary. Here was the pure Moorish impress. Most of the houses are windowless. The flat roofs are sometimes the road to the higher houses, and always their foot-stool. And although the water of baptism has wetted the women’s hair, they pass veiled in the Moorish fashion along the streets. With tucked up skirts and naked legs they step lightly along the steep alleys, returning from the fountains with water amphorae. They eye the foreign trespasser suspiciously and curiously. And when | requested the veiled women to let me take their photographs they stared at me, for they had never even seen a camera. | showed them a picture, and explained that | wanted to have theirs too. They refused. Finally one girl agreed. But an old scold hurried up and beat her for her frowardness: throwing herself away like that! In this Christian country | found shamefacedness and adherence to the laws of Mohammed. Let no mortal body serve as an image} An old man with whom | spoke about this incident told me that if a girl no longer - veiled her face, but hid her legs, there was not much left to spoil about her. But | was determined that | would not leave without a picture of one of the veiled beauties. At last | succeeded, with the consent of the mother of one of the girls. The eye of my camera winked slyly when | took my snap~shot. In thanking the girl, | held out my hand, but she seemed quite taken aback, and hid her hands behind her. | pressed her to shake hands. | should not do her any harm. But her mother apologized for her saying: “No, she doesn’t mean to be rude, but it is not the custom in our country for a girl to let a man touch her hand before marriage.” Perhaps this little incident explains the once much-used expression employed by wooers “‘will you give me your daughter's hand?” (90). The Palm Forest of Elché (100—103). The only palm forest in Europe. It numbers more than 115 000 trees, and is also a Moorish heritage. They caused the water to flow to this spot from a distance of 5 kilometres in order to create an oasis here in the desert — for the district is to-day little else. Palms must grow with their roots in the water and their crowns in the glaring sun. For years no rain has fallen on this spot. The view is strange from the church-tower down on white houses over which the palm tops are spread like a canopy. Beyond the palm forest the grey-yellow desert plain surrounds this isle of peace. In the far distance the blue ocean sleeps in proud majesty. Death and life are here in close juxtaposition. Sat Easterin Seville. The train is rushing southwards over the arid Castilian high plateaux, which in summer are as empty as a beggar’s palm. The bare treeless Mancha has put on its modest spring garment which now shows in the distance like delicate green velvet. A short-lived joy! In but a few weeks the scorched ground will again be covered with a yellowish-gray pall. XI At present the fresh breeze comes down from the mountains of the Sierra de Guadar- rama. Scarcely, however, has the train wound its way through the wild canons of the Sierra Modena, when spring opens wide her gate. A warm damp hot-house atmosphere is wafted into the carriage windows. We are soon surrounded by meadows that are like a great flower-garden in which the blood-red poppy and golden-yellow primrose struggle for supremacy. Once in a while a village is seen dreaming like Sleeping Beauty among the flower groves. For a long stretch agaves and cacti fringe the track. Finally Seville sends forth her messengers in the shape of blossoming rose-gardens and orange groves laden with their ripe golden fruit. An ancient mangolia stretches a rosy blossom branch towards us, lingering on in its old age in this scene so full of yearning life. Tall slim palms nod to us, and yet new children of Flora crowd upon us to bring us Seville and spring’s friendly welcome. Heedlessly the train clatters past all this beauty towards the white maze of Seville’s houses, above which towers that beautiful emblem of the town, the Giralda. At last the engine snorts noisily into the station. But how different is everything to-day in front of the station. No yelling hotel porters, no carriages awaiting the passengers, no electric-car with clanging bell, no hooting of motor~cars.—The square is lifeless at this early afternoon hour. It is the “Semana santa’, Passion-week, that has cast this almost oppressive spell of silence over the great city. Even the brazen voices of the church-bells are muffled, as though that had gone into sacred mourning. The wooden banging of the Matraca calls hoarsely to prayers - with dry and unmelodious voice. The further you penetrate into the town, the more the sacred holiday stillness is ousted. All Seville is crowding, chattering and laughing to the Cathedral to see the procession. At last you have to stop. There is no getting through the impenetrable human wall. It is a strange procession that is passing by, as though conjured up from the Middle Ages. Huddled figures stalk past slowly and stiffly. They appear like spectres. Old pictures of witches and inquisitionary trials are recalled to my mind, for nowhere else have | ever seen such terrifying apparitions; never in life. Black cowls are wrapped around their bodies, and on their head are huge black conical hats a yard high. Long sable cloths, in which only two eyelets are pierced, are suspended over their faces down to their waists. A corded rope is wound round the penitential garments. The hands of the apparitions clasp rough wooden crosses, or metal staves, as tall as themselves. These figures march in front of a portable dais on which a life-like statue of the Virgin Mary is enthroned clad in magnificent garments thickly encrusted with gold. — The procession stops. The dais is lowered. A young woman steps from the crowd, turns her eyes to the Queen of Heaven and sings her praise. When the twenty or thirty bearers who carry the heavy dais on their shoulders, and who are hidden by drapery suspended round the frame, have rested enough, the signal to start is given by knocking on the front of the dais. A jerk, and the procession moves on a few paces. One religious body of brethren follows on the heels of the other. Each of them wear their own distinctive multicoloured badges. Some have a blue pointed hat, others white, brown, violet or other coloured garments. Next to a father his ten-year old son in the same vestments is often seen, as well as the miniature penitent of fifteen in the procession. The various brotherhoods are filled with an ardent ambition to outdo the others in the magnificence of their Pasos as the daises are called. The whole story of the Passion from Gethsemane to the burial of our Lord, is shown on them as they pass before our eyes. — Of course the clergy in full canonicals, as well as the town and state officials are also represented in the procession. At intervals, groups of Roman legionaries of Christ’s Xil day apper, then angels, and St. Veronica carrying the kerchief. Interspersed bands bray and flourish the same march without cess. Each brotherhood in the procession is ceremoniously received by the chief authority of the town in Constitution Square which looks like a huge theatre auditorium. It is filled with rows of chairs of which not a single one is empty. The surrounding bal- conies are a sea of heads. Hour by hour passes. Night falls. And now hundreds of wax-candles blaze forth on the daises, and each penitent carries a gigantic taper in his hand. Thus this endless and mysterious procession of lights moves on to the cathedral, passes through its magni- ficent nave, and out again through the other doors into the streets. The cathedral has opened its treasure-house for the “Semana santa” and displayed all its pomp. There are candles of the gigantic bronze candelabrum (the renowned Tenebrario), and on the altar the sacred wax-candle weighing several hundredweight. A huge sepulchre has been erected to the glory of Christ, in which the Holy of Holies is kept during Passion week. Hundreds of lamps and candles illuminate the golden- white four-storey edifice, which is over 30 metres high, and flooded with a wondrous glowing halo. The celebrated miserere of Eslava is perfomed in the cathedral on the night of Cood Friday. But, alas! it is impossible to enjoy the sacred tunes owing to the general noisy inattention around. Weary forms are sitting on the steps of the chapels and around the grave of Columbus. Here a mother is suckling her infant, there an animate heap of rags is wrapt in sleep, and all the while there is a continual pushing and elbowing to get to the front. However we must not judge of all this in the light of serious northern church festi- vals. This would only lead us to drawing both severe and wrong conclusions. Perhaps this manner may be an historical development. Has not our Teutonic Christianity also wedded itself to much that is ancient heathenism? For instance Christmas and the winter solstice festival. Much that is Moorish obtains in Spain to this day. Perhaps even — unconsciously — the conception of the purpose of a place of worship. Was not the mosque often enough a secular place of meeting for the Moslems, and at the same time a university? However, enough of conjectures. It is a fact that the worship of the Lord and the Virgin Mary is for the Spaniard a service of love. Whether the occasion be Trinity or Passion week, it is one of joyful praise of Heaven. | shall always remember one quiet hour permeated with the holy spirit of Easter among these joyful and yet pious Easter days. — | had mounted the Ciralda, that jewel of erstwhile Moorish minaret architecture, the cathedral tower. At my feet lay the white sea of houses. The town was bathed in sunshine. The beautiful blue dome of heaven spread its mighty arch over the holiday-making land as. though protecting and blessing it. The faint music of the mass far below was wafted up to me, when suddenly a booming vibration filled the air, and all the tower bells, which had been silent so long, peeled out across the sunlit country: Christ is arisen! The sister bells of the other towers echoed the message across the spring clad country. The Patio (40, 42—49). It is a favourite expression to call Seville the town of bright court-yards. Those court~yards which light and fill the house with sunshine. The Sevillian house, or rather the Andalusian house, is not a building such as our houses, fronting on the street, but one that fronts to an inner court, turning its back on the street. The outsides of the houses are bare of ornament, almost windowless; a secret to the passer-by. All their beauty is displayed yardwards. There wealth obtains in all Xill its pomp, and poverty unfolds its modest ornaments. The narrow passage — the Zaguan — leading from the street to the court is closed by a railed gate. The gallery — to which access is gained by steps leading from the court — is supported by columns. The rooms of the upper stories lead to the gallery. To cool the air there is a fountain in the middle of the court surrounded by palms, araucarias, laurels, orange-trees, oleanders and flowers in pots. The walls are covered with multi~coloured tiles. Against them brightly up- holstered furniture, chairs, and sometimes even a piano; the inevitable guitar is in a corner. Climbing plants festoon the court. Practically this is the centre of the whole family life. Friends are received here, - hours passed in argument, singing, music and dancing — whether in company or alone, dreaming away the hours, listening to the plashing of the fountain, it is in the court — the soul of the house — that most time is spent. There is nothing commonplace about Spanish houses. They still retain their pecu- liarity impressed on them by the patina of age. Many have tumbled down under the burden of years. Many have perished; but they “perished in beauty”. The period of their prosperity still lingers on in the churches and ornate fagades of desorted squares. Toledo is the most Spanish of towns. It was once the heart of the country, pulsating with the great rhythm of epic history. But its heart no longer beats. Resting on steep granite hills above the deep Tajo valley stands the yellow-grey heap of houses as though rooted in the rocks. Two gigantic bridges span the river. Narrow alleys lead up hill and down dale; many cornerd and dark. The whole town seems in a fighting mood. Huge gateways and towers, the houses fort-like, the doors studded with heavy nails. Indeed, there is hardly a town that has seen so many battles rounds its walls. Spain’s history has passed over it with heavy steps. And to-day? Rent walls, ruin and silence: the town the accumulated wreckage of a thousand years (139148). | Segovia, Toledo’s sister city is similarly situated on rocks arising abruptly from the plain. It is dominated by a great cathedral tower, and guarded by the well-proportioned Alcazar which stands forth like a fairy castle. A miraculous building erected, one would say, to brave eternity in the days when Christ was born. But otherwise Segovia is different to Toledo. It is the Nuremberg of Spain, gay in its leafy setting (157—164). There are other brave old companions-in-arms of these two veterans, dating from ancient war days: circumvallated Avila (165—169), Cuenca and Albarracin with their swallow~nest houses clinging to lofty crags (120, 121, 192—194), Daroca protected by two mountains over which the whole of the battlemented walls have climbed (195— 197), Alquezar in the Pyrenees, the northern outpost of the Moors in Spain (210—212), Sigiienza, Jerica, Trujillo, Caceres, Niebla, Carmona, Martos, Antequera, and many bold castillos. Ronda is the most boldly situated town lying on a high plateau encircled by a wide mountain arena (62, 63). Running through the rocky plateau is a huge crevice which looks as though it had been split in rage by the mighty fists of giants. The streams thunder down in all their wild force over the boulders, hammer threaten- ingly against the rocky walls, break into scintillating spray, rush round in whirlpools, and hurry on their course. And in close proximity to all this turmoil, the rocky walls stand unshaken in their immobility against the sky-line, an emblem of eternity cast in stone by the hand of God. The rainbow in the spray has been copied by man in the shape of a bridge high over the abyss joining the rocky heights upon which the town stands. XIV Let us pass from these stubborn old battle towns to a more smiling scene: San Sebastian (286 —290) known throughout the world for its incomparably beautiful situation on the sea. The view from Monte Ulia, a mountain guarding the entrance to this para- dise, is wonderful beyond words. Here nature has modelled and painted a masterpiece. The sea hugs the land in two gracefully curved bays and catches the beauties of the town in the reflection of its waters. Cave-dwellings and the simple life. — This time | decided to leave the destination of my wanderings to chance. | could have chosen no better guide. | set out long before the dew was dry, or the sun had risen. The palm trees were just beginning to shake themselves in the early breeze when | approached a strange rocky landscape. Dark holes in the rock stared at me like dead eyes. But nevertheless life was hidden there. Human forms stepped out of the holes to greet the morn. What | saw was a towering rock wall with hundreds of cave-dwellings next to each other and over each other. Some of them were even five storeys high and approached from the outside (92). Where the rocks were too steep, the approaches had been dug from the inside, and upper storeys created with outlook holes and loggias high up in the rocks. Tunnels had been cut in the soft stone to get from one rock valley to the other. The children were running about in the costume God had given them. But it is not to be supposed that they were troglodytes, and as unaware of culture as those who lived in the ice period. High on the rocks you can read in large black letters on a white background “El Retiro”. Every Spaniard knows, at least by name, Madrid’s beautiful park the Retiro. For this reasons it seems somewhat of a joke to suddenly come across the name in such a spot far up on the rocks. El Retiro, like Sanssouci, means solitude, retreat, place of rest. An enterprising hotel-keeper has levelled his portion of rocks into roof-terraces where the favourite gossip hour (tertulla) is spent, skittles played, and merry dances performed. Hence the alluring words on the wall for the benefit of passers-by. On another rock is graven the brief significant inscription: “Dios, Pan y Cultura” (God, Bread, and Culture. 92—95). | During the course of another stroll | was again equally surprised. | saw smoke arising in the distance from ground that looked like fantastic mountain erosions. Surely this was not the site of volcanic activity? Indeed this was out of the question. And on drawing nigh | discerned human figures moving among the columns of smoke. | then saw to my astonishment that little smoking towers — not unlike champagne corks in shape — were chimneys projecting out of the ground. | had again strayed among cave~ dwellers. What Homeric primitiveness was there! The valleys are the streets, the mountain sides the fronts of the houses, the pinnacles villas. Front gardens are once and a while supplied by giant cacti and spiky agaves. My wanderings in this interesting world~ forgotten primitive spot lasted for hours as | passed up and down the so-called streets (96—99). My greetings were met with a cheerful response, and | was invited to enter a cool cave, provided with a drink of fresh water, and shown the treasures of the modest household: the bed on the ground, the hearth with a copper kettle, the earthenware pitcher, the stool, the oil-lamp and the image of the patron saint. “Now as to work?” | asked. “Well we don’t do too much in that way. We culti- vate what we need over there where the river runs. We make bricks for the towns where the people live in houses.” — Truly a picture of an enviable state of modest XV requirements. There are still those who are satisfied with the tub of Diogenes. Indeed you may find many such all over Spain. | remember when at a little railway station finding only a lad deep in his after-dinner nap. For the rest, there was no one else to take my luggage, so | woke him up and asked him to help me. He stretched himself in all the bliss of laziness, took a couple of coppers out of his pocket, and showing them to me said: “I’ve earned 22 centimos to-day already; that’s all | need,” turned over, and went to sleep again. | continued on my way recalling the words of the Indian philosopher: “He who is without wants in nearest to God.” There is no cause to shrug one’s shoulders. Diligence and happiness are but relative conceptions. And just the poorest in Spain understand the art of doing nothing combined with extracting joy from next to nothing. They need a little shade in summer, and the sunshine in winter; a piece of bread, a tomato, a drop of wine. The whole earth with the sky for a roof is their bed-room; the highroad their field of labour. There is no master they would exchange positions with; they are their own masters; masters of their own time — verily a great possession this. Why then should they not spend it generously? “He whom God helps will go further than he who rises betimes“ runs a Spanish proverb. And the Bible tells us: “Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.” Feria in Septilveda. — A bull-fight. There is high holiday in Sepulveda, (172, 173) an ancient little town far from the turmoil of the great world, and far even from the railroad, which indeed is nearly 100 kilometres away. The feria is the greatest day of the whole year. Men and women crowd into the place on horses and donkeys. Old friends meet again. Once more they see ‘life’. Above all it is the bull-fight that is the greatest attraction. It has been for weeks already the only topic worth speaking about. As however our little town has no arena, the market-place is used instead. All day the lively rat-tat of hammers is heard there. The windows of the picturesque dignified old town-hall gaze smilingly down on the lively scene. At last there is really something worth looking at again. Another long tedious sleepy year has gone by. There is hardly any one who does not go the hour’s walk outside the town to ad- mire the bulls which have come from a long way off, and for the present are being kept at pasture. When the great day has come, every one is up with the sun. The arrival of the savage animals is feverishly expected. The bravest show their courage by going forth to meet the procession. A cloud of dust on the highway announces its approach. And finally forms emerge from it. At the head a picador on horseback with a lance, behind him the black bodies of the bulls surrounded by tame steers, and followed by a second picador. As they rush through the narrow streets to the market-square a mighty cry goes up: “Los toros} Los toros!” Shouting, whistling, howling, yelling, and a general pandemonium rends the welkin. Finally the bulls are secured, and it is only in the afternoon that the longed-for hour arrives. The forenoon has its own pleasures. Young men demonstrate their daring by teasing a young bull specially selected for the purpose, and earn acclamation or mocking laughter as the case may be. These young heroes try to put into practice what they have seen at the Torero; only it is less dangerous. No blood is shed, only torn trousers and bruises are the honorofic mementoes of the great day (174, 175). XVI My thoughts naturally harked back to the first bull-fight | had seen — in Madrid. The impression was stupendous: fifteen thousand gay spectators in the great sweep of the arena all impatient for the nerve-racking fight to begin. The arena was filled with the babble of voices. It was a chaos of colours, cloudy lace mantillas, flower-em- broidered shawls, fans swaying nervously, jet-black glowing eyes. — Shouts of applause greeted the bull-fighters. Yells saluted the great bull as he rushed in. The game was a risky one for life or death. Deeds of audacity were met with idolatrous cheers, the timid with desolating laughter. All of a sudden a coloured form is tossed into the air. A single scream from a thousand throats. — “Is he dead?” “No?!” A sigh of relief. — “Go on!” — The condemned bull is mad with rage, his opponent cold as steel. He wields the mortal instrument, the sword flashes, and a hurricane of applause bursts forth for the victor and his tottering victim. White handherchiefs flutter from every seat like pigeons. Hats are waved, a shower of flowers descends, and the féted hero returns thanks, nonchalent and proud. — The trumpets blare and a new fight begins (125, 126). Crossing the Picos de Europa. — Masses of high mountains with peaks about 2700 metres high rises among the Asturian Cantabrian coast range. They bear the proud name of Picos de Europa (The Peaks of Europe). They are the Dolomites of Spain. But they exceed these considerably in inaccessability. Tourist facilities in Spain are of a very primitive nature. For this reason there are no shelter huts for mountaineers in the Picos de Europa, and there are likewise no trained guides. There are it is true some game-keepers. Shepherds and miners acquainted with individual parts of the mountains act once in a while as guides. | had been at the gateway of the Picos de Europa when at Covadongo the cele- brated place of pilgrimage. Since then the desire had never left me to become acquainted with this demure mountain beauty so alluring and yet so stand-offish in her loneliness. Thus | started for the mountains. My path led me from Unquera through the Deva valley to Potes at the foot of the Picos. | very soon noticed that my task would be no easy one, for shortly after leaving Panes the track winds through a mighty and deep valley known as the Desfiladero de la Hermida. My reception was not a friendly one. The rocky guardian of the valley looked down and frowned at me, and the sky treated me at intervals to a cold shower-bath. In Potes the clouds were low down on the mountain sides on which | was going to test my prowess the next day. But | was so enchanted with the spot, that | willingly renounced the view for that day. The little town is a very ancient spot. It must once have been the seat of many a knightly family. This is attested to by the various Spanish coats of arms on the houses. But those times are now no more. Where once Spanish grandees strutted by with buckled shoes and sword, clodhopping peasants plod along. And the present generation is hardly aware of the plentitude of beauty surrounding it. Bold bridges span the glen. Narrow collonades with overhanging balconies cling to the steep river bank. A multitude of archways offer innumerable enchanting glimpses. A high watch-tower guards the houses clustering at its base. Before the sun had rissen on the morrow | had sed out. Dark and dismal-looking clouds hung low over the landscape. But the Picos pinnacles had rent them asunder, and suddenly they stood forth in the glory of the rising sun. Dark night lay behind me as | marched towards the sunlight. XVII My guide met me by arrangement at Espinama. He was a grey-headed man with weather-beaten face and smiling eyes. His feet were clad in leather sandals, and under his arm was an ancient umbrella. We soon discussed the itinerary, filled our rucksacks and started for the Puerto de Aliva. The old song came back to me: — The sun on my way In his golden aray ls my fellow and guide. He casts my shadow O’er flowery meadow. l wander world-wide. As we passed on our way, the houses of the village became smaller and smaller. We soon left the last tree behind, and our path led over sweet green slopes, till they too were lost under the stony debris of rocky giants. There was a hunting-lodge close to the foot of the Pefa vieja cliff which the king of Spain visits nearly every year when chamois hunting. The day drew slowly to its end. Great streamers curled round the Peja vieja, pale shadows floated by like silver grey cobwebs, and the mist rose and fell with every breath of wind. The billowing fog had already wrapped us in its mighty veil when we reached the miners’ inn at Lloroza. An overseer invited us to spend the night there. And we were right glad to find shelter, in spite of the fact that both the hut and its furniture looked like the first attempts of primitive man to scale the ladder of civilization. The night we spent on the hard ground was not a very restful one, and we were glad when the approach of day called us from our layer. When we left the hut a surprising spectacle met our eyes. The fog which had deprived us of any possibility of obtaining a view the evening before now lay at our feet in the valley. The summits of the mountain rose like islands in the sea of mist. The moment had arrived when day struggled with night for predominance. The full-moon’s silver disc hung in the deep blue of the western sky, and the morning star held its own for a while against the rising light in the east. At last both moon and star. turned to pale glass when the sun sent forth his herald rays. The horizon was tinged with pink; long red streamers fluttered from the windows of heaven to greet us, and then the sun rose above the misty expanse, gilded the crests, flooded the eastern pinnacles with the glory of his light, and glowed on the rocky wall to which our hut clung. O wonderful silence of that hour! “A new day beckons us to other shores.” For yet a short distance the beaten path used by the king when stalking showed us the way. Then we bent our steps over pathless boulders, sharp edged rocks, mounds of debris, snow-fields strewn among the stony desert with its jagged rock walls and towers. Whole herds of chamois stared in astonishment at the strange intruders in their paradise. For the rest, they showed little inclination to run away. The mountain fast- ness became progressively more barren and wild in its aspect. An infinitely dismal - mood seemed to brood o’er the scene. Yet the magnificence of these mountains aug- mented from minute to minute. Grotesque stone giants — cast in burning ore by the furnace of high heaven — stood guarding this great grave of nature. Woe to the wanderer whose ignorant footsteps err here} Death lies in ambush in the deep crevices and chasms. At last we halted in front of the monarch of the magnificent mountain empire. His throne stands high in everlasting snow; a golden crown is on his head. His picture is known to all from the most distant mountain valley to the shores of the restless ocean. All admire his beauty, all know his name: Naranjo de Balnes. XVIll This huge rock colossus rises 600 metres over its surroundings. Its perpendicular walls show hardly a crevice. And it seems incredible that nevertheless that bold moun- taineer the Marqués de Villaviciosa de Asturia climbed to its summit. On our wanderings round this mighty and stubborn rock tower we seemed to be lightened of all earthly burdens high up there in the solitude above the depths of humanity. We climbed up to the Ceredo tower. The rocks were as sharp as knives. Again the ghostly mist rose from the valleys and whirled spectrally around us. It was 5 o'clock and the Cares valley with Cain to where our steps were directed were not yet in sight. — | asked my companion: “How far yet?’ “A few hours more” was the not very consoling reply. — The mist, that enemy of mountaineers was getting thicker. And ere long we could not see twenty paces ahead. The feeling of insecurity grew apace. And the sensation of climbing with mist-bound eyes was terrible. Again | questioned my guide. ‘Severo, is there no hut or shelter on the way?” — “1 don't think so.” Once more long minutes of silent groping. At last we were, at any rate for a while, rid of the stony region. Here and there a rocky projection, but it was quite impossible to tell if we were not suspended on it hundreds of meters over a yawning abyss. lt was impossible to see anything through that fog. And at a quarter past six it was pitch dark. Suddenly we came across a few low rough huts of unhewn stone huts sheltered by a rock-wall. There at last we could spend the night. But my guide wanted to go on. “Stop!” | cried. “(Can we get to Cain to night?” — “I don’t know.” “Well then we'll stay here!” Suiting the action to the word, we crept into one of the huts, crouched down, and slept fitfully through ten endless hours of night. But even they passed. The morning meant a dangerous and nasty descent. We waded knee-deep in wet grass, clambered over ledges with fog all around us. Woe to us had we slipped! Then we got lost and had to stop and climb back with the greatest care. Then we slid down a stony gully in which nearly every step set rocks thundering to the depths below. At last the moist grey mist began to lift. A rift showed the bed of the valley far beneath us, and, as we thought, houses. But no, we were mistaken. They were huge boulders, the wreckage of some avalanche that filled the upper hollow. Down and down we scrambled till finally we broke through the foggy screen. Our goal was at our feet. Cain, strangely walled in by precipitous rocky cliffs rising sheer 1500 metres high. We were there! And we could rest. Some bread and butter was all we could find in the whole village to appease our hunger. We would gladly have rested there a day, but the place was too inhospitable. We had therefore to shoulder our rucksacks again. The distance we had climbed down the day before, we had to climb up again on the opposite rocks of the Pefa santa. Hours and hours of strenuous efforts passed till we reached the ridge. We re-descended valleywards in a drizzling rain. Lake Enol was the last spot of beauty to be hidden from our view. It was there we struck the main road, and then marched another 10 kilometres down to Covadonga which we reached as tired as dogs. Night had already cast her shadow over the valley, and the stars were beginning to shine forth. Welcoming lights were seen burning in Covadonga. But is seemed as though we should never reach them. However the prospect of a bed lent us strength, and at half past eight we stumbled painfully over the threshold of a clean hospitable house. | went to bed exhausted, and my restless dreams were haunted with the beautiful and terrible wanderings in the Picos de Europa (266—274). XIX My pilgrimage to the Yuste Convent (153). — | left soon after midnight, for marching is delightful in southern nights when the glittering stars shed their soft light from the great vault of heaven. In the south the cool night is succeeded by summer days that are the misery of the pedestrian. — The hours melted by but slowly in the furnace heat of the day. | was beset with all possible ills: infernal heat, thirst, and no water. Not a tree or a shrub was to be seen for miles; no shade; hours without passing a house; not a soul abroad; the melancholy mood that comes in the train of solitude. My path was obstructed by a river — at any rate, water — but nary a bridge! So | had to wade, and continue my journey. At last | spied a shepherd. What joy to feel that | was no longer alone} “ls this the right road to Yuste?” | enquired of him. — ‘Yes, but where doest thou come from, and what countryman art thou?” The good fellow addressed me with the fraternal tutoyer, as though we were brothers. When he heard that | was a German he was quite surprised. He willingly agreed to accompany me to the next village, and was quite curious to hear something about my country.-The news of the war had penetrated to this remote part of the world. It was charming to listen to the questions of this child of nature. He knew nothing of the three Rs; had never seen a railway, had never left the neighbourhood of his village. We soon met another shepherd on the mountain-side who was just as pleased and interested as the other. And | must say, that wherever | was in Spain, all classes of the population were friendly towards Germans. It was not long before we encountered other wayfarers who joined us, for Sunday enticed them into the village. My entrance was therefore almost a triumphal procession. We entered the inn, ordered some wine, and sat down to a well-earned rest. When | wanted to pay the landlord, he refused, telling me that Pepa had settled the bill. However, this wouldn’t do. And at last he agreed to my paying on condition that the next time | returned | should be his guest. They all shook hands with me most heartily and | continued joyfully on my way. At last | stood in front of the monastery gates. They were opened, and the white haired abbot rode out on a little donkey, holding a green parasol over his head. | saluted the venerable Father and enquired of him whether | could stay at the monastery for the night. “No”, he replied, “impossible.” — Discomfited | exclaimed: “But where am | to go to-day? | have travelled fifty kilometres and have come from Navalmoral.” — “What, on foot? Impossible)’ “Yes, but | have. | am a German and want to see the spot which the emperor Charles V. exchanged for all the crowns in the world, and where he closed his eyes.”” — “You are aGerman? Of course you can’t continue your journey.” | was most kindly and touchingly taken care of. | was shown the monastery which had once been destroyed by the French. Decey and mould have continued the work of destruction. But nature’s eternal youth triumphs victoriously amongst the ruins and beautifies the decay of age. And yet this is a place to think about the everlastingness of all things, of the end of all terrestial happiness. — Once that great monarch who had fled from the turmoil of the world had paced these halls. At supper, |, the infidel sat at the monks’ board and was treated like a brother. The next morning | was awakened long hours before sunrise. A lay brother lit me with a lantern through the dark and ancient park. The monastery gate swung on tts hinges, the latch fell heavily, and | was again out in the world all silvery with the moon- light. For a moment | stood entranced. — | heard the mass bell calling the monks to prayers. And the gates of Paradise were closed behind me. XX The last echoes. — My wanderings through Spain filled me with the joy of life. She had become my second home. It was with a heavy heart that | left. “O follow me ye southern days ‘Neath colder skies and paler stars. And fill my thoughts with golden rays)” The hour of departure had arrived. — It was a wonderful moonlight night in which the little Spanish steamer which was to besr me homewards sailed slowly out of Ferrol harbour. The moon cast a silver bridge over the water, and along it my thoughts fled back to other moonlight nights when she had often shown me the way in picturesque Spain. The lights along the coast shone like the eyes of anxious friends looking a last fare- well before darkness closed their lids. And then the little ship ploughed homeward through the eternal waters with the eternal sky above us, and the old old song of the waves accompanied me back to my familiar home. And now that days and weeks of cloudy skies hang heavily over my country where the sun is not so generous as in southern climes, my heart is filled with yearning for Spain, with nostalgia for the sun. — Then | look at my pictures, and we hold converse together, and re-live those unfettered days spent in wanderings in sun-kissed Spain. In this volume | send forth my sun harvest. May it cast its light in the hearts of many! May it tell of my love of Spain, and of my heartfelt thanks to her chivalrous people for all their kind hospitality! XX] ALPHABETICAL LIST OF NAMES AND PEAGES Albarracin 192—194 Albufera 116 Alcala de Guadaira 71 Aldeanueva de la Vera 154 Algatocin 76 Alhambra 1—16, 22 Almazan 227 Alquezar 210—212 Andujar 44, 115 Antequera 64—66 Aranjuez 136—138 Arcos de la Frontera 48, 49, 72 Arranda de Duero 240 Autol 224, 225 Avila 165—169 Barcelona 200 Batuecas 260, 261, 263 Bielsa 213 Bilbao 284 Burgo de Osma 226 Burgos 234—238 Butron 277 Brachimafiasee 216 Caceres 83, 84 Candelario 252, 253 Cangas de Onis 274 Carmona 43, 70 Castellbé 208 Castellfullit 204 Cave Dwellings 92—99 Cenaruza 282 Cepeda 155 Chorro 73 Ciudad Rodrigo 250, 251 Coca 184—187 Cordoba 50—60 Cuenca 120, 121 Daroca 195—197 Debotes Valley 207 Durango 279, 283 Ecija 68, 69 Elché 101—103 Elorrio 285 Escorial 129—135 Fuenterabia 298 Gerona 202, 203 Granada 1—25 Guadalajara 178—181 Guadalest 118 Guadix 100 Giiejar-Sierra 77 Hermida 266 Hurdes 259 Jativa 111—113 Javea 108 Jerez de la Frontera 67 Jerica 191 La Alberca 254, 256, 257 Lagartera 150, 151 Madrid 126—128 Maladeta 219 Mafiaria 278 Manzanera 42 Martos 74, 75 Medinaceli 176, 177 Mochagar 91 Mogarraz 258 Mombeltran 183 Monte Agudo 119 Montserrat 201 Niebla 80, 81 Nuria 206 Ondarrao 276 Orihuela 104—107 Oviedo 264, 265 Pancorbo 231—233 XXII Pasages 291—296, 304 Pefiafiel 182 Pefia Montafiesa 214 Pic de Aneto 217, 218 Pic du midi 216 Picos de Europa 266—274 Pontevedra 301 Potes 270—273 Pyrenees 205—219 Ronda 62, 63 Sagunt 109, 110 Salamanca 246—249 San Esteban de Gormaz 229, 230 San Juan de Plan 209 San Sebastian 286—299 Santander 275 Santiago de Campostela 300 Sarragoza 220, 221 Segovia 157—164 Segretal 205 Sepulveda 172—175 Seville 28—41 Sierra Nevada 79 Sigiienza 188—190 Soria 228 Tarifa 45, 46 Tarazona 223 Tarragona 198, 199 Toledo 139—148 Toro 244 Trujillo 85—87 Turrégano 170, 171 Valencia 114, 117 Valladolid 241—243 Vigo 303 Vuste 153 Zafra 82 Zamora 245 Towns: 2, 4, 16, 21, 28, 62—64, 72, 74, 80, 91—99, 120, 128, 139, 157, 166, 172, 191, 192, Po see2 eet 21.4 225, 220,°227,0202, 240, 2/6, 250, 25/, 290, 295, Gateways, Towers, Fortified Walls: 5, 29, 75, 80, 81, 85—87, 143, 167—169, 186-188, 193, 196. Streets, Squares: 24, 25, 31, 60, 65, 66, 75—77, 83, 85, 86, 147, 148, 154, 155, 163, 170, ge sal deel Ore Oo LU 95597 198. 205,208, 209 211—215, 251—253, 247, 251, 253, 270—273, 278, 295, 296. Churches, Convents, Chapels, Cemeteries, etc.: 23, 31, 41, 50—59, 66, 67, 86, 108, 146, 147, 152, 153, 158, 164, 165, 169, 177, 199, 220, 221, 228, 229, 234—241, 244—246, 260—262, 264, 265, 282—285, 300. Squares, Public Buildings, Typical Houses: 6—15, 17—21, 30, 32, 33, 36—40, 68, 69, 114, 116, 117, 126, 127, 129, 130, 132, 134—137, 144, 162, 178—181, 250, 279, 280, 298. Courts (Patios) and Gardens: 6—8, 12—15, 17, 34, 35, 37, 40, 42—49, 58, 69, 82, 90, 131, 138, 145, 179-181, 200, 238, 242, 243, 249, 298. Stairways, Lattice Windows: 39, 68, 115, 144, 200, 203, 248. Fountains: 9, 12—15, 20, 37, 49, 60, 197, 232. Bridges: 63, 140—143, 268, 270, 274, 276. Castles (Castillos): 1—5, 22, 70, 71, 110—112, 118, 119, 141, 161, 170, 171, 182—186, 277. Views of Landscapes: 2-4, 21, 62, 63, 72, 73, 79, 88, 92—99, 101—107, 113, 116, 194, 201, 204—207, 214—219, 224, 225, 230, 260, 263, 266—269, 274, 275, 286—289, 291, 292, 294, 299, 301—304. Costumes and Life of the People: 26, 27, 61, 78, 84, 90, 122—125, 149, 150, 151, 155, 156, 160, 174, 175, 222, 252, 254—259, 262, 281, 296, 297. XXIill Granada-Alhambra BeBe eB A Biquieuiy BBeA ze] Je PuqweuUly, ep enA eBoa sip pun eiqweuly eBe, Be] 9 Biqwely,q BeBe, eu} pue esquieuly epeueiH BPBAEN BE|S PB] CPUO; je Uy ‘10S Jep eseng-esqueuly BPBACN BII9IS B] PUD} Ne :opeuUEeID e JOS EF BPBAEN eBsselS SIP PuNsBveqUIH, W! *BunWWASspuegqy-eiqweujly BPBASGRY B4usIS BS] OPUOC) YU] *OPUOWIBSI [NS Bjquely,4 BPPASN B1I9ISC SU} punosBby0egG 8} U)- Buqleuyyy epeueBin Granada-Alhambra Granada The Alhambra Towers t torrioni dell'Alambra AlhambratUrme Les tours de Il'Alhambra Torres de la Alhambra e oes ere hy a et ee em te ew er \ = u eet i arate = i 5 i Granada-Alhambra La corte dei mirti The Myrtle Court Myrtenhof Patio de los Arrayanes La cour des myrtes Ss! — ots ¥ BM ener kate RUE BIN eS aes } Granada-Alhambra La corte dei mirti The Myrtle Court Myrtenhof Patio de los Arrayanes La cour des myrtes Granada-Alhambra La corte dei ieonl The Court of the Lions L6éwenhof Patio de los Leones La’ cour des Lions Granada-Alhambra La fontana del leoni nella Corte omonima The Lion Fountain in the Court of the Lions Der Léwenbrunnen im Loéwenhof La fuente en el patio de los Leones La fontaine avec \le bassin dans la cour des Lions ; tenes a ead maser hee Granada-Alhambra Court of Justice : La sala della Giustizia Gerichtshalle La salle de Justice Sala de la Justicia 10 Granada-Alhambra i! padiglione di Daraxa Bay Windows of the Daraxa Erker der Daraxa Mirador de Daraxa Le pavillon de la Daraxa 1 4 1% Kiley iam Granada-Ainambra The Daraxa Court ii giardino di Daraxa Gartenhof der Daraxa Un coin du jardin de la Daraxa Patio de Daraxa 12 Granada-Alhambra The Daraxa Court i! glardino di Daraxa Gartenhof der Daraxa Un coin du jardin de la Daraxa Patio de Daraxa 13 Alhambra Granada- il giardino di Daraxa In the Daraxa Garden Im Garten der Daraxa Patio de Daraxa Dans le jardin de la Daraxa 14 Granada-Alhambra il cortile del cilpressi The Cypress Court Zypressenhof Patio de los cypreses La cour des cyprés 15 Granada- Alhambra View of the Albalcin from the Queens Boudoir Veduta di Albalcin presa dalla spogllatols della regina Blick aus dem Putzzimmer der Kénigin nach dem Albaicin Vue sur l'Albalcin, prise du boudoir de la reine Vista desde el Peinador de la Reina sobre el Albalcin 16 Granada Palazzo de! Generalife Palace of the Generalife eneralifepalast G Palacio del Generalife Palais de Généralife aA Granada Entrance-Hall of the Generailife Ingresso nel Generalife Eintrittshalle im Generalife Entrée du Généralife Entrada de! Generalife 18 RETURN ~ Granada Colonnato nel Generalife Colonnade in the Generalife Sadulenhalle Im Generalife En el Generalife Colonnade dans le Généralife 19 Granada in the Garden of the Generalife Giardino del Generalife Generalifegarten Un jardin du Généralife En el Jardin del Generalife 20 21 Granada Veduta di Albaicin da un giardino de! Ganeralife View from one of the Generalife Gardens on the Albaicin Blick aus einem Generalifegartchen nach dem Albaicin Vista desde un jardincito de! Generalife sabre el Albaicin Vue sur |'Albaicin, prise d'un jardin du Généralife Granada View of Alhambra from the Outlook Tower Veduta dell'Aihambra dalla torre of the Generalife ‘del Generalife Blick aus dem Aussichtsturm des Generallfe auf dle Alhambra Vue sur l'Alhambra, prise du belvedére Vista desde e! Mirador del Generalife du Généralife sobre la Alhambra S We es ELLIO oS, CL + = a & OM. aC Z - Abe o< Lyre core i. 8S te we = res oe Granada Cristo Capella Reale - Nel cancello é raffigurata la passione di Cattedrale The Chathedral - The Royal Chapel-in the Railing the Passion Kathedrale - Capilla real-im Gitter die Leldensgeschichte Christi A la Cathedrale-La Chapelle royale. En la reja la Pasién de Jesucristo La Catedral -Capilla real - Au haut de la grille sont représentées les scénes de la Passion de Jésus-Christ 23 Granada Street on the Darro Calle del Darro StraGBe am Darro Rue longeant le Darro Calle delle Darro 24 Granada In the Albaicin Nell'Albacine Im Albaicin L'Albacin En el Albaicin 25 Zingara danzante Gypsy dancing Tanzende Zigeunerin Gitana ballando Danseuse Gitane 26 Con Ia chitarra Playing the Gultar Mit der Laute Con ta guitarra Une Joueuse de guitare ere Sevilla General View of the Town from the Giralda Tower Veduta dalla citta dalla torre (la Giralda) of the Cathedral della Cattedrale Blick vom Turm der Kathedrale (der Giralda) Uber die Stadt Vue générale, prise de la Giralda (tour de la catnédrale) Vista general, tomada desde la Giralda 28 Sevilla The Golden Tower and the Cathedral La torre dell’ora e la Cattedrale Der Goldturm und die Kathedrale La tour d'or et la cathédrale La torre de Oro y la Catedral 29 Eps H n i f tr ff } eg ONE a SPV eA me Sevilla Detalls of the City-Hall Facade Dettaglio della facciata del Municipio Telistuck der Rathausfassade Détail de la facade de I'hdtel de ville 30 Detaile de la fachada del Ayuntamiento Sevilla The Giralda (Cathedral Tower) La Giralda (la torre della Cattedrale) Die Giralda (Turm der Kathedrale) La Giralda (Tour de la cathédrale) La Giralda 31 i" > 'p ae ot tet te inetemalnns Sou Coane te, nAdadedaaedaa 14addedaa, ry sorcpienemabsiemees Sevilla-Alcazar The Ambassadors Hall La Sala degli Ambasclatori Gesandtensaal Salle des ambassadeurs Sala de Embajadores 0) N (My) j af, 494991 404994 yy i) 4 4 4 COU s ay) Ny + +, OOKAL ) uy NS + % +6% x AX * 1 ae aS ¢ 43 A PUA EN AUAR VARS AREA Hing rery a BR) Bas 2 Sevilla-Alcazar La corte delle bambols The Doils' Court Puppenhof Patio de las Mufiecas La cour des poupées 33 Sevilla Ne! giardino delfAlcazar In the Alcazar Garden Im Alcazargarten En ei jardin del Aicazar Au jardin de l'Aicazar 34 Sevilla Nel! giardino dell'Alcdzar In the Alcazar Garden Im Alcazargarten En ei jardin de! Alcazar Au jardin de Alcazar 35 Sevilla La Casa di Pilato Pilate's House Pilatushaus Casa de Pilato La malson dé Pilate 36 O}eIigd FP eSBD B| Sp ORed SWOD ‘Cid IP BSBD BF] SNBYSNIIq Wi JOH BIWASS Siig EP UOSjew ej SP SINEWgYjU) ANOD ' ~ SSNOW S.e}EligG Ul) NCD Si Court Gates, Pilate’s House Entrée de la cour de la maison de Pilate I. br 2 v0 ia ASS ’ Sane are NW ~EE Nw ian ys a >» of, " & # i ey 1 ys Sevilla Porta di accesso aila Corte della Casa di Pilato Tur zum Hof des Pilatushauses Portada de la Casa de Pilato 38 Se Be SN, Aer NO eS = mine 5 Ra ta Sevilla , Pilate’s House-Grille Casa di Pilato. Finestra con grata Pilatushaus -Fenstergitter Fenétre grillée de la maison de Pilate Casa de Pilato-Reja 39 Sevilla Court In Duke Alba's Palace La corte nel Cortile del Duca d'Alba. Hof im Palast des Herzogs Alba Cour Intérieure du palais du duc d‘Albe Patio en el palacio del duque de Alba 40 4 Sevilla i Convento di Santa Paola St. Paul's Convent Kloster Sta. Paula Convento de Sta. Paula Couvent de Sainte Paule } : netianiadbdmmetimidiecns ammenter nie nemenmenee A Manzanera In Manzanera In Manzanera En Manzanera Dans la Manzanera 42 Court in Carmona |) cortile in una casa di Carmona Hof in Carmona Une cour de maison a Carmona Patlo en Carmona 43 Andujar il cortile in una casa di jar Court in And& Hof in Andujar Patio en Andujar Une cour de maison a Andujar ae Court in Tarifa | cortile in una casa di Tarifa Hof in Tarifa Une cour de maison a Tarifa Patio en Tarifa 45 Court in Tarifa il cortile in una casa di Tarifa Hof in Tarifa Une cour de maison a Tarifa Patio en Tarifa 46 Court in Vejer tl cortile in una casa di Vejer Hof in Vejer Patio en Vejer Une cour de maison a Vejer ll cortile in una casa di Arcos de la Frontera Court In Arcos de la Frontera Hof in Arcos de la Frontera Patio en Arcos de la Frontera Une cour de maison a Arcos de la Frontera 48 BsJSJUOIY S| EP SOdIJYW US OFeY BiS}JUOI eB] ep SOSIY eB eSeS BUN IP ej)YOO |} ByejUOI S| EP SOSIYV Ul JOH BISJUCIY S| EP SOSIY & UOS;eElWW ep INOS BUA BIS}JUOIY B| SP SOSIY U!] YNoOD 49 BINDZE-W BP] ep epeyoey RPEeYyoSO- Bep BIeIOOeZ eseussoW Joep epessey eqopi0D ne SP age ore eenbsow Pe] ep epesey enbsoy~-; eu} JO epeoey 5O Bynbzewy eB] us seuWN|OD PSYSSOW PEP OUISE}zU},||]eU SUUCIOD eJep BAJes eq esyosoy wep PIeMUEeINeS eBqops0oD Seenbsouw ke] Sp ineejzwy,| 2 SEUUDIODS sep sSIjJINO} eq enbsoyw eu} UU} SULUM|OD S51 Cordoba Mihrab Mosque -tHoly of Holies) La Moschea: Mihrab (santuario) Moschee - Mihrab (Allerheiligstes) La Mosquée: le Mihrab (sanctuaire) Mezquita - Mihrab Ol NO Cordoba Interior of the Mosque ‘interno della Moschea Moschee-Inneres Iintéricur de la mosquée En la Mezquita Ol @) B s cA wey “4 a (aE i AYA AY if, Cordoba Mosque - View of the High Altar La Moschea: veduta dell‘altar magglore Moschea - Blick zum Hochaltar Mezquita - Vista del altar mayor La Mosquée: vue du maitre-aute!l 54 RAIN: REE wage ee et eran 4 4 ate & padi tant se Cordoba La Moschea: veduta dei Coro Mosque - View from the Choir Blick aus dem Choreinbau Moschee - Mezquita - Vista desde el Coro La Mosquée yue du choeur SS ee \ a8 = SS Vet) +, r) as MESS (re HOF 5 Cordoba Mosque - Capilla de St. Fernando La Moschea: Cappella di S. Ferdinando Moschee - Capilla S. Fernando La Mosquée: chapelle de Saint Ferdinand Mezquita - Capilla de S. Fernando | PTE RIAL TT AGH ITE T XA PARANA AAS CG PILIRGILSF Cordoba Mosque - Capilla de St. Fernando La Moschea: Cappella di S, Ferdinando Moschee - Capilla S. Fernando La Mosquée;: chapelle de Saint Ferdinand Mezquita - Capilla de S. Fernando Sil! Cordoba La Moschea: La corte degli arancl Mosque - The Court of Oranges Moschee - Orangenhof Mezqulita - Patio de fla Naranjas La Mosquée: cour des orangers tar Cordoba Eremo Hermitage Einsiedel Ermita L'Ermitage eyueny euP}UCY ueuunsg eqOpsoD eUJe}UO} EU uyeyuNnoy 60 efed sweBued eied o11eD ey6ed eyjop oyodse4j |] Jod eyVoues CUM YONS sy USsey) eed eB] ep WOdsue. S| uNOd SsyesseYUS SUA WeD MEWS 61 ere Ronda 62 ’ Ronda 63 eusnbejuy 64 65 Antequera — Plaza S. Sebastian Antequera Chapel of the Virgin of Suecour Cappella della Madonna del Buon soccorso Kapelle der hilfespendenden Jungfrau Chapelle de Notre-Dame de Bon Secours Capilla de la Virgen del Socorro 66 “ 2 ‘ “ BEE th Peper Hs; CHER GERRI q Jerez de la Frontera Cartuja — Cypress Court Cartuja: Il cortile dei cipressi Cartuja — Zypressenhof CartujJaz la cour des cyprés Cartuja — Patio de los cipreses 67 Ecija Court in the Marquis of Pefaflor's Palace La Corte nell palazzo del Marchese de Pefiaflor Hof im Palast des Marqués de Pefaflior Cour intérieure du palais du marquls de Pefaflor Patio en el palacio del Marqués de Pefiafior 66 i E. i i . ki Staircase in the Marquis of Pefafior's Palace Scala nel palazzo del Marchese de Pefiafior Treppenaufgang im Palast des Marqués de Pefiaflor Cage d'escalier au palais du marquis de Pefaflor x ‘ Escalera en el palacio del Marqués de Pefaflor 63 Carmona — Castillo 70 Alcala de Guadaira — Castillo Wha ae Ine MW Arcos de la Frontera T2 Chorro ‘= 73 Martos 74 Martos TS Algatocin US Guejar — Sierra (Sierra Nevada) GT é e)) Pt) NRE ER TTA en In a Wayside inn (Sierra Nevada) In una trattoria. Sierra Nevada In einer Wegschenke (Sierra Nevada) Intériewre d'une posada (auberge) dé la Sierra Nevada En una posada (Sierra Nevada) 78 BPRAGN eB1eIS eB] UD 199987 ‘BPRASN eBiusIS BIEN Cusyoieujs}s) BPPeASY essels sep UI BPRABN PiUdIS Be] SUBP SO4IANOI SeUBUD (HPO WICH) BPRASN e4481G 94} UI T9 Niebla 80 Niebla 81 Zafra Court In St. Miguel's Hospital Ospedale di S. Michele. |i cortile Hof im Hospital S. Miguel Cour de Ihopital Saint-Micke! Patio en el hospital de S, Migue! Caceres 83 Caceres Water - Carriers Portatrici d'acqua Wassertragerinnen Porteuses d'eau Mujeres con jarros de agua 84 85 Trujillo La piazza principale Chief Square Hauptplatz Plaza mayor La grande place 2 by %. f rE =a Trujillo La porta di Santlago Santiago Gate Santiagotor Puerta de Santiago La porte Saint-Jacques 86 | Trujillo Un’‘antica porta della citta Sid Town- Gate Aites Stadttor uerta antiqua =) i Vieille porte d'entrée 87 SINPeWSsjsy Sp ins je Ue ejonYepiy S/BUOIP|IEW Sunpewiesjsy jou PUUedeDS ip O/BeII/A BINPeBWe13Sy-PNS U} OR S(euC|PjieLW SunpeWesjsy,| ep SB6eI|A UN BINpeWSssjsy UINOS u SebejiA 88 (euanpewesdjsg Sp uns je ue) e}USA (S;BPUCIPUeLY B4unNpeWeIjsy) B98}sO (eunpewesjsag-Ppns) exUueUsS Se/eucipjjew NS,| SUBP SYSEANG eUun (B4NPeBWSesjSsy YINCS) UU} 89 istian persuasion who Una donna cristiana che va ancor oggi still wear the veil in Mochagar-Vejer velata all'uso marocchino ne der noch heut maurisch verschleiert gehenden Christenfrauen in Mochagar -Vejer Jne des femmes chrétiennes qui vont encore voilées Mujer en Mochagar-Vejer ilevando la 4i COMme au temps des Maures d'Espagne cara tapada como las marroquinas 90 JeBeyoo;, 91 Cave Dwellings (Province of Almeria). None of the Caverne nella roccia (Provincia d'Almeria). Tutte le caves shown in this book are prehistoric. They are caverne riprodotte in quest’opera non sono di for- still escavated and inhabited mazione preistorica, ma si contina a scavarle anche al giorno d'oggi Hohlenfels (Prov. Almeria). Alle in diesem Werk wiedergegebenen Hdhlien sind nicht vorgeschichtlich; sie werden noch jetzt gegraben und bewohnt Cavernes dans le roc (Province d’'Aimeria). Toutes ces Cuevas en las rocas (Prov. de Almeria) cavernes ne sont pas des formations préhistoriques; on en creuse maintenant encore pour les habiter 92 (R\WeW)Y SP ‘AC1Y) SeD01 se] US SeASND (BYSUY,P BIOUJACIY) B}D504 BJeU GUIeARD (BYeUTY ‘AC1d) sjeyus|UeH (BJYSWY,P SOUJACIY) 904 Be SUBP S@UISARD (RBYWeUUlYy JO SDUIACIG) SHuI!lemg eAeD 93 Cave Dwellings (Province of Almeria) Caverne nella roccia (Provincia d‘Almeria) Hodhlenfels (Prov. Almeria) Cavernes dans le roc (Province d'Almeria) Cuevas en las rocas (Prov. de Almeria) 94 ae oe. pa Pee te if Cave Dwellings (Province of Almeria) Caverne nella roccia (Provincia d‘'Almeria) Hdhlenfels (Prov. Almeria) Cavernes dans le roc (Province d'Almeria) Cuevas en las rocas (Prov. de Almeria) Cave Town (Sierra de Guadix) The chimneys of Una citta di caverne (Sierra de Guadix). Si vedono the dwellings are seen projecting out of the rocks sorgere dal suolo | caminl! delle caverne Hohlenstadt (Sierra de Guadix) Aus der Erde ragen die Schornsteine der Wohnhaduser hervor Une ville souterraine (Sierra de Guadix) On ne voit Problaciédn de cuevas (Sierra de Guadix) Se ven las surgir de terre que les cheminées des habitations chimeneas de las cuevas, saliendo de tierra 96 : ‘S (XIPBND Sp Bis9IS) SEASND Ep UgIDRIGoOY (X|PEND Sp eS4i4a!S) PUISASD |P BYIO (XIPEND ep e1se\S) IPEISUS/UOH (XIPEND ep esis) SSUlSIISINOS SUO!}EVqQey (XIPEND Sp B14e/S) UMO] eAeD Q7 KJDEND SP Bsidsis) SBAEND EP UgIDB\GoY (X|DEND SP BsisseIG) SUISALD IP BHID (XjPEND Sp B1is9IS) JPEPSUEIUQH (xipenD SOP BisisjS) SeusBsue}NOS SUOHSYGEH (XIPEBND Sp SsssiS) UMOL CARD ) 2 S =) SINos oneyqe (XIPEND Sp eisejs) seureiseynos su Beyqeyy se ] r= oO1IDeiadoO (XIPBND sep B1ISIS) SPASND Sep UOJOeBIQ[od (XIPEND Sp SIeIS) BUIBAED IP BID (XIPBND ep B1ls9IS) UMOL BARD 2 ci oieatiiinasi ye wy “pe adix Gu 100 In the Palm Forest of Elche Il palmizio di Elche Im Palmenwald von Elche Elche: aux milieu des palmiers Las palmeras de Elche In the Palm Forest of Elche (A datepicker Nel palmizio di Elche (Sulla palma unm uomo in the tree-top) che coglie datteri) Im Palmenwald von Elche (im Baumwipfel ein Dattelpficker) Elche: la récolte des dattes. (L'homme grimpé Las palmeras de Eiche au sommet du palmier en détachera Jes régimes de fruits) 102 Evening in the Palm Forest ' tramonto nel palmizio Abend im Palmenhain Effet de soir Cala la tarde ihuela Or 104 BjenuyloO 105 106 pT eae VE Swen We a Song gta o> Orinuela Capanna Huerta Hut Huertahutte Barraca de la huert Barraque de la Huerta “ Sse flan eas - PER se IR aim SS = 107 Presso Orihuela Near Orihuela Bei Orihuela de Orihuela Cercanias Environs d'Orihuetae Javea (Denia) Church of Calvary La chiesetta del Calvario Kalvarienbergkirchlein L'église du calvaire Iglesia del calvaric j Fates Pom pcr Ee Gateway to the Mount of Calvary, Sagunt La porta del Calvario presso Sagunto Tor zum Kalvarienberg bel Sagunt Environ de Segoute: Accés et entrée du Calvalire Puerta del calvario de Sagunto 109 Sagunto, Roman Castle Castello romano Sagunt, Rémische Burg La citadelle romaine Sagunto, Castillo romance Jativa Castle Castello Burg . Le Chateau -fort Castilio m1 Jativa View of the Castle Veduta del Castello Blick zur Burg Vue sur le Chateau -fort Vista del Castillo 2 Jativa On Mount Calvary | Calvario Am Kalvarienberg Le Calvaire El Calvario n3 APRALSAAALAL ARDELL L A DARA Ra ( LOE OE AB I LC OEE ~eor e: 7 ; ; e ar, r i EE if r ¢ Gateway of the Marquis de Dos Aguas Palace Valencia Portale del Palazzo del Marchese de Dos Aguas Portal des Palastes des Marqés de Dos Aguas Portail du palais du marquis de Dos Aguas Portada del Palacio del Marqués de Dos Aguas 114 Siler, ey ety 1G, ~~ ES, re NS ~ Chat ae Ujar And Una finestra con grata Grille Fenstergitter Reja Fenétre grillée 15 BIDUBIE/A SP BO1ED BssjNqiv eB] ep seoBUeEg ezue|eA Osseid Bssjngiy ip euuedeD BIOUBIeA [eq USHNYeIEyNaQy eiejnaiy,| EP seueges :eouUB/eA SP SUOIAUD BfousjeA 4eeU BuEyNdiy ey} JO SHUBIG 9} USC S}]N} N16 eIauUe|eBA SP EWEN} B| ep seoBeEg PIZUEIBA OSseid BYENH |p euueded BOUSIeA 18q UEHNYSVENH BYeENH e| ep suested ep suosieYW\ BJOUE/IBA JeeEU S}IN} BWeNH 7 Guadalest Castile (Prov. of Alicante) Castello di Guadalest (Provincia dl Alicante) Castillo Guadalest (Prov. Alicante) Chateau de Guadalest (Province d’Alicante) Castillo Guadalest (Prov. of Alicante) 18 Monte Agudo (Prov. de Murcia) Mount Agudo (Prov. of Murcia) 19 Cuenca 120 Cuenca 121 The Jerez mantilla Mantiglla Jerezana Im Schmuck der Mantilla von Jerez Sous la mantille (Femme de Jerez) Con la mantilla jerezana 122 With the mantilia Mantiglia a meriett Im Schmuck der Spitzenmantilla (als Hintergrund die Manton) En mantille de dentelle Con la mantilia 123 ° La Argentinita, Spain's most Argentinita, la plu celebre ballerina della celebrated dancer wearing Spagna, con sulle spalle il Caratteristico the Manton shawl) Manton spagnole Argentinita, Spaniens beruhmteste Tanzerin im Schmuck der Manton (Schultertuch) La Argentinita la plus célébre danseuse La Argentinita de l'Espagne avec la mante espagnole sur les 6paules 124 PIEPEW ep soso} EP ezeRid eB; US Ofedsep |5 PPeW |P Pussy, ||eU ~OPes10} jEep Osse1HLu| ie FR AE Bat | in? (PUPEW) Bpli0S eB JUBAe SeUgIe, SUBP B6QLI09 NP ee4}UR PIIPEW UOA eUsIY SIP UU] Je;dWe HENS sep BNzZuUjR BUdSIY P]ULPEW SU} OIL Su@IYBY-|ING 9} JO SOUBIIUS D> Madrid The Throne-Room in the Royal Castle La Sala del Trono nel Palazzo Reale Thronsaal des Kéniglichen Schlosses ta salle du tr6éne au Chateau royal Sala del Trono en el Palacio Real ae Ay Nel Palazzo Reale El Pardo, presso Madrid In the Royal Castle El Pardo near Madrid Im Kéniglichen SchloB El Pardo bel Madrid En el Pardo Une salle du ch&teau royal d'el Pardo prés de Madrid 12 pupew jelucosy 129 Escorial 130 ° ~ & 5 & Court of the Evangelists Cour des evangelistes Escorial Evangelistenhof 131 La corte degli evangeilisti Patio de los Evangelistas VAR Og SELLE SIONAL TIE Escorial La Sala del Trono Throne-Room Thronsaal Sala del Trono La salle du tr6ne 132 Escorial La Biblioteca The Library Die Bibliothek La biblioteca La Bibllothéque 133 PACD Sp sesnjuied sep feluoosy jep ojoRyeg Seide.p suljeqoy sep sejesside, ‘|elINOSy,) ep NeeTBUD e4 ueprelwed UESYoSeAOD Yoru suljJeqody USPUBAM USP UP :/eJWOOBa sep seed Wi} PACD IP S4NId sep SuUOc|ZNpPosdjs sBuyjured s eho uoo suleEqoy jedde, nosed ejpy jyeuoosy |jep Ozzejey jen J9Ye Sejsedey syeEM Oy UO tedR/eY /B\WOOSA Ou} Ul SISOS _sESDRORDRARSCE DCIS 134 | edyey ep ousedsegq 1) eddy ip C1OAR] Ep ONSUIGeED I Saywud sar jeluO LILUIZS}OQuy so — pene | | Sddiiugd Sp |feAe4y Sp youIqeDd Apnis ‘i oilid 135 2D RD PD MD OS > deh D pideD med i | 4 i: o.0 © © 6 076 8 0 6 0 o]i. PM Pd OO o wre De hve hn Oa hel er ee ee ze « det ‘ = s i * :<& 2-* . = mi hd wT aw A EE = Pirineos. Pena Montanesa 214 Pyrenees. Pic du midi Pirenei. Picco del Mezzogiorno Pyrenaen. Pic du midi les Pyrenées: Le pic du midi Pirineos. Pico del Mediodia 215 Pyrenees. Sea of Brachimafia, near Panticosa Pirenel. Lago di Brachimafha presso Panticosa Pyrenaen. Brachimafasee bel Panticosa Les Pyrenées: Le Lac de Brachimafa pres de Panticosa Lago de Brachimafia cerca de Panticosa EI Aneto The highest summit of the Pyrenees (8404 m) La piu alta vetta del Pirenel (8404 m). Sul davanti in the foreground a crevasse la fenditura di un ghiaccialo Der héchste Gipfel der Pyrenaen (8404 m) im Vordergrund eine Gletscherspalte Le plus haut sommet des Pyrenées (38404 métres) EI pico mas alto de los Pirineos (8404 m). En el au premier plan une crevasse dans le glacier primer termino un barranco de hielo 217 OWSUY SP ODiqgj |e SPSEeP SPeWO}) eIs/A ‘SOOUIG OWUY EP OCDD/J4 |BP }UOW jep BiNpeA JeUed4IY OJSUY EP Sig WOA oI1G ‘uUBRUBIAYG ojyeuy,P 31d Np esiud eng ‘seqeueiKy seq OWUY SP Did Su} WO’ MsIA ‘seouUsIAY 218 OJEUY EP COI OJeUY SP CDDIqg |S EPSEP OIA PJEpe|EW (IEP ejsIA ‘eHepsjew eq Fe ‘'sOSeUlsld UsyeseB sne ojeuy eP Sig WOA eyepRleYWy 18eGqG JeUBIIG ojeuy ‘uUeRUSIAY P cId np ena 'eyHepeRjeW e7 :seeuesAy seq oJeuy EP Jig SY} WOsJ USES PJepRIE-_ SUL ‘seeUBIAY 219 4Q|l4 |Q ‘ezoBeiez Jelld | sespeyHea eq *"BZZOBe1eES JEilq (A e/espeuzey *"ezoBeuez (S1B4PeUyeD) JBIld |[eP SWeG-S439ON fespeuyed seji4g jQ ‘essoBeses 220 JElld Ia JE\ld IA ezobeieZz ezzoBbeies ABild Ia ‘ezoBbeiez7 Je\Iq EP SWeSQ-SjION Je BjNosideid Sp jeH> JBlld IF ‘eSsODbeEseES essobeies 221 Aragonese drinking from a wine skin Tipo d'Aragonese in atto di bere Aragonese, aus dem Weinschlauch trinkend Un Aragonais se desaltére en buvant a méme au tuyau de conduite du vin Aragones, bebiendo de la bota 222 Tarazona 223 Formazione di roccia ad Auto! Rock formations of Autol Felsformationen von Auto! Le tunnel de la route, a Autaul Formaciones en las rocas de Autol 224 ck formations of Autol Formazione di roccie ad Autol Felsformationen von Autol Bizarres formations rocheuses Formaciénes en las rocas de Autol 225 aly} sesh hhias _ Seanad einnaanintd Y fees — ' Burgo de Osma MN N oO) TER RET UPZEBWYY Soria, S Juan de Duero-Altar 228 S. Esteban de Gormaz Going to church Alla Chiesa Kirchgang La montée de 'égllse Camino de la iglesia 229 Rock formation of St. Est eban de St. Esteban de Gormaz: Le Rocher Formazione di roccie di S. Esteban de Gormaz Felsformation von S. Esteban de Gormaz Formacidén en las rocas de S Esteban de Gormaz “cae CEM Pancorbo 231 Pancorbo 232 Pancorbo 233 ist ze ae pare a & pata ee fs a | pnt ¥ nenreeny us wm x » ae a f cy Burgos La Cattedrale Cathedral The Kathedrale La Catedral e _a Cathédra ee | mr ofp S RRS Oe aos Burgos edrale nterno della Catt interior of the Cathedral inneres der Kathedrale interior de la Catedral Intérieur de la cathédrale 10 iy) at gh fae waa ppecese’ CT 4 s 2 s 4. « 1 = a w * z a * . a. = Burgos, Cartuja Miraflores L'Altar Maggiore della Cattedrale High-Altar of the Church Hochaltar der Kirche Retablo maitre autel de léglise des dominicains L 236 asta Wire Kx & TSS eee” Nes ( eS SS = ~~ ee = wet € r (| sepolcro dell'Infante Alfonso Sepulcro del infante Alfonso Burgos, Cartuja Miraflores Grabmal des Infanten Alfonso Sepulchre of the Infante Alfonso Tombeau de ‘infant Alphonse dans I'église des dominicains t] bE AE ae In the Garden of the Cartuja Miraflores Nel giardino de !a Cartuja Mirafiores im Garten der Cartuja Miraflores Le jardin du convent des dominicains En el jardin de la Cartuja Miraflores 238 Lonely Chapel Cappella solitaria Einsame Kapelie Une chapelle solitaire Capilla solitaria SOE ALES ESET TROT: STR Arranda de Duero Ingresso della Chiesa di S, Maria Doors of St. Maria Portal der Kirche Santa Maria Portada de la Iclesia Sta. Maria Portail de I'église Sainte-Marie 40 Valladolid Facciata della Chiesa di S. Pablo (Stile plateresco) Facade of St. Pablo (plateresque style) Fassade der Kirche S. Pablo (im plateresken Stil) Pablo (estilo plateresco) Fachada de S. Facade de I'église Saint-Pablo (style en relief) 241 Valladolid Court of St. Gregorio | Cortile di S. Gregorio Hof von S, Gregorio Cour de Saint-Grégoire Patio de S. Gregorio 242 Valladolid La Galleria di S. Gregorlo Gallery of St. Gregorio Gregorio Galerie von S. Galeria de S. Gregorio Galérie de Saint- Grégoire 243 Toro The Cathedral- Doorway of the Carmen Chapel La Cattedrale. Ingresso alla Cappella del Carmine (Former entrance of the Cathedral) (Antico ingresso alla Cattedrale) Kathedral-Portal der Carrnenkapelle (ehemals Eingangstor der Kathedrale) La cathédrale: portail de la Chapelle des Carmes Catedral- Portada de la Capilla del Carmen (ancienne porte d'entrée de la Cathédrale) (antigua entrada de la catedral) 244 euejepBbey eyues eso/6; Be] uc euUNnoSY,P zenbseA ueNnr 'Gg BUNDY ep zenbzeA YUeNnr ‘gq edjouud jep oisjndes eou”d np nesequo) -eulejopey-;-sej}UIeS esi}69 eBuejepHbey BUCS SYDIy sep U! BUNDY ep zeNnbzeA UeNGF ‘Gg USEZULYG Sep jeLWqeID eusjepBbeyw eyUeS IP BsaiyuD eBjeu eusjepBeyy BIUSS JO YOUNYS SU} UY eUuNndsY ep zenbzeg ueNr Gg edjoupy jep O1djodes ePUNSY Sp zEeNbzeA VEN ‘Gq eouUjYg JO e1YyDjINdeS BIOWUeSZ 245 Salamanca The Cathedral La Cattedrale Kathedrale “La Cathédrale La Catedral 246 Salamanca Portale dell'Universita Doorway of the University Portal der Universitat Portada de la Universidad Portail de I‘Université 247 Salamanca Iniversity. Staircase with alto-relievo (the relievos Universita. La scalinata. Nella parte superiore della m the upper part showing knights In a bull-fight) Scala 6 raffigurata una corrida di tori Universitat. Platereske Treppe (an der oberen Treppenwange Darstellung eines Ritterstierkampfes) L'Université: Escalier du style en relief (sur ie limon supérieur Universidad. La Escalera (en el relieve superior est représenté un combat de taureaux au Moyen -Age) una corrida de toros en la Edad Media) 248 Wal Salamanca inner Doorway In the court of the Escuelas menores Portale interno ne! cortile della Scuola inferiore (lower school) Inneres Portal im Hof der Escuelas menores (niedere Schule) Portail intérieur dans la cour des Escuelas menores Entrada y patio de las Escuelas menores (écoles mineures) (hospital del estudio) 249 ba ae ° wh ate Ciudad Rodrigo Door of palace Ingresso d’un palazzo Portal eines Palastes Portail d'un palais Portada de un palacio 250 251 Rodrigo ciudad La Plazza del Mercato arket place K ‘ Marktplatz La grande place (Place du marché) Costumes in Candelario Costumi di Candelario Tracht von Candelario Femmes de Candelario Traje de Candelario (EOURPWIRIES AOJY) Oe|SpUueD 253 Costumes in La Alberca (Prov. of Salamanca) Costumi di La Alberca (Prov. di Salamanca) Tracht von La Alberca (Prov. Salamanca) Une famille de paysans de la Alberca (Prov. de Salamanque) Traje de la Alberca (Prov. de Salamanca) 254 A Mule - Ride Cavalicata sul mulo Maultierritt En route sur la mule Paseo en mula 255 (Piu fill eredlta di famiglia) Costume festivo a La Alberca. di catene d'oro, strand -old family ornament) estal Costume in La Alberca (four gold chaine F elreihige Goldketten - alter Familienbesitz) ca (vi Festtracht von La Alber Traje festivo de La Alberca (las cadenas de oro son una joya de familia) 256 Femme dela Alberca en costume de cérémonie (Les colliers en or a plusieurs rangées pro- Viennent d'un trés ancien héritage de familie) Festal costume In La Alberca Giovinetta di La Alberca in costume festivo Festtracht von La Alberca Femme de la Alberca en costume de féte Traje festivo de La Alberca ft i A Mogarraz (Provincia di Salamanca) In Mogarraz (Prov, of Salamanca) In Mogarraz (Prov. Salamanca) En Mogarraz (Prov. de Salamanca) A Mogarraz (Province de Salamanque) 258 Hurdanos at the well Hurdani alla fontana Hurdesbewohner am Brunnen Hurdanos a la fontaine Hurdanos en la fuente 259 The Monastery of Las Batuecas Le Monastére de Las Batuecas &] : a rs t. ‘ 7 Kloster Batuecas 260 Ji Monastero’' di Las Batuecas E! Monasterio de Las Batuecas Doorway in the Monastery of Las Batuecas Ingresso del Monastero Las Batuecas Pforte des Klosters Batuecas Porte d‘entrée du monastére de Las Batuecas Portada de! Monasterio de Las Batuecas 1 the monastery school Neila scucla dei Monastero nm der Klosterschule .Secoie au monastere En ja escuela de! monasterio The beauty of the woods (Batuecas) Nella foresta (Batuecas) Waldespracht (Batuecas) Dans ta forét (Batuecas) Encanto del bosque (Batuecas) 263 <) ~~ ‘ SPAY “ee - A AN , Y Ht MM) ni ANA Ale add i f Door-post of the chapel of St. Miguel de Lino Pilastro della Cappella di S. Michele de Lino (Oviedo) near Oviedo (erected by Ramiro |. about 845) (Costruito da Ramiro |. nell’ anno 845) Pfosten der Kapelle S. Miguel! de Lino bei Oviedo (von Ramiro |. um 845 erbaut) Un pilier de la Chapelle de St. Michel de Lino Poste de la Capilla S. Miguel de Lino (Oviedo) (Oviedo) (batie par Ramiro | er en 845) (edificada por Ramiro | por los afios de 845) 264 Interior of the Chapel! of St. Maria de Naranco Interno della Cappella di Santa Maria de Naranco near Oviedo (erected about 845) (Oviedo) (Costruita nell’ anno 845) Inneres der Kapelle Santa Maria de Naranco bei Oviedo (um 845 erbaut) Intérieur de la chapelie de Ste, Marie Interior de la Capilla St. Maria de Naranco de Naranco (Oviedo) (batie en 845) (Oviedo) (edificada por los afios de 845) Passo di Hermida nel Picos d'Europa (Asturie) The Gorge of Hermida in the Picos de Europa (Asturla) Engpass von Hermida in den Picos de Europa (Asturien) Desfiladero de Hermida en los Picos de Europa éfiié de Hermida a Los Picos de Europa (Asturies) > L (Asturias) 66 Gorge in the Sella Valle Picos de Europa) Nelle valle del Sella (Pico d'Euroapa g y Pp m Sellatal (Picos de Europa) Gorge de ‘a Sella (Picos de Europa) Desfiladero de Sella (Picos de Europa) 267 Asturian Bridge (Picos de Europa) Ponte asturiano (Pico d’Europa) Asturianische Brucke (Picos de Europa) Un pont des Asturies (Picos de Europa) Puente asturiano (Picos de Europa) 268 is Avenue near Ribadeseila Viale fiancheggiato di eucalitti a Ribadesella Eukalyptusalles bei Ribadesella Allée d'eucalyptus prés de Ribadesella Alameda de Eucaliptos (Ribadesellia) Potes (Picos de Europa) = { Potes ANT, Potes (Picos de Europa) 273 Potes (seins) SIUO EP SEBUBD Sp CUBWIOI SJUSEN, Ss} VY (usunsy) sium ep sebuend u} exoOnNWG Suosiwiey (seunsy) SIU ep SseBuesd & UlBPWUIOY OY (eunisy) sium ep seBued u! shpuq UeWwoOYy 274 275 antander sailing-boat harbour The Si Segelschiffnafe a Le port des vc Ondarroa (Vizcaya) 276 Castillo Butrén (Vizcaya) dE Of Casetta Basca (Mafaria) Peasant's House (Manaria) jue c Bas Baskisches Bauernhaus (Mafaria) Casita vasca (Mafaria) Maison de paysan basque (Mafiaria) 278 [BuBINg Sp B21eD BOSSA BYUSeD 2>6uRINg oOSsseid jyoSseq !UIPe}UOD jp eyResen eBueing jeq sneyuseneg seyuosimseg OBuUBING ep SUOI’jAUS xnNe anbseq UPSshed ep uosieEy oBuegsng seeu ssnoy sjueseey enbseg 279 280 Molini basco Basque Mill Baskische Muhle Molino vasco Un moulin basque ODId!)} COSeA O1ueD iONq UGS CDSseg OUIeD USIJEHUSHSeG 4seyUo Ss 1dA sjneoq ep sgjeye enbseq eyeseYdS Sur) weo enbseg jedidAL 281 $ # z * ’ ad * ot tr Cenarruzza Antica lapide sepolcrale nella Collegiata de ZzZza Biscaya, Ancient gravestone in the Colegiata of Cenarru Vizcaya. Alter Grabstein in der Colegiata von Cenarruza giata de Cenarruza Vizcaya. Lapida sepulcral en la Cole 282 Pierre tombale a la Collegiaile de Cenarruza (Biscaye) Stone Crucifix in Durango (Biscaya) Croce di pietra a Durango (Vizcaya) Steinkreuz in Durango (Vizcaya) Le Calvaire de Durango (Biscaye) Cruz de piedra de Durango (Vizcaya) 283 Entrance to the Mallona Cemetery (Bilbao) Ingresso al cimitero di Mallona (Bilbao) Friedhofsaufgang Mallona (Bilbao) Entrée du cimetiére de Mallona (Bilbao) Entrada del cementerio de Mallona (Bilbao) 284 (BAPOZIA) O4sO/Q OP SO1eED eips|d ep solsjindaes (BAPBOZIA) C440] OSSSid BALD eI}E!d IP DjJOodes (BPASZSIA) O44] eq soUuPpojuUSisIMUIEIS (sAeOS1g) OJJO/R,P SUO4IAUS xNe Siisid ap seisjndes (eAeosig) Oj44s0/Q 4eOU Sse1yojndes suo}s YYWM A1sjawey 285 BIN SIUOW-: |e Spsep ojsi, SIM SJUOW IEP BHID BIlIEPp Sinpep ueysseB eI1Q eqUO: WOA uenseqes ues BIN WOW Np ssid ENA RYN SyVOW Wold MBIA 286 oplenb;j syuo~y je Spsep o};sIA opjenB; syuoW [ep RHI eI|Sp eyNpep ueyeseB opjenByj eyUOW WoO, ueysegqes ues opjenB; jUOW Np ssid sna ‘ opjenB, eyoyy Wios MBIA 257, se0eyooue |v uspnsegqes-3UjeESs e siNosNdeso Sp joys Bunwwijspueqy oyuOWRIL eppueag ueHseqes ues ojnosndeip ‘uReNSseqes UeS Sp OYENd e|nosndeid ep ysya ‘usAseqses-jUuyeES ep yicd ey UsjJeyYy Wu; puseqy ‘uUReHSeqes UPS Buiueag “anoqiey ‘uReseqes UBS ojnosndeing “‘ouRHSeqes USS IP OWOd oyiend 13 90d Il ‘OURNSegSsS UBS usjey ueNSeqssS UeS USNSEGSS Wes ep yod’eq snoquey euL 290 (ecozndind) sebesey ep opend jep epesjUug (eoozndind) seBbeseg UOAN Us}JeY USP ul! WHYeyUIg (eoozndjnd) sebesey |p oj:od je OssedDe Pp ORCAS (2OOZNdIND) sebesey ep wod np sesjug seBbesey jO inoquey eu} 0} SDUBIjUW 291 Pasages 292 Pasages 293 Pasages 2904 sebesey 295 seBesey ep soAew ezejd e] us epel|JAON sebesey e coed epuei6 e uns xneeine] ep yequioo un seBesey UOA zye\dp ew Wep jne sdweryieys sebesey |p OyedJeW jep ezzejd Bjns epy0|D seBesey jO ede|q-yeyieEW Su} U WUBYy-|ING Sl ey ae rs aoe 4 im i er 296 $OJ0} so} © OpueBn[ soyoeyonw 2PlsdOD eBI/eB OUPDON!IB eyo ju|quReg pusjsids jdue yisays ueqeuyy jouBbedse usjq yUuRjUSe.p nef uq BupyyBy-\nq ye BujAvid skog 297 Fuenterabia Court in Charles V th's Palace Cortile del Palazzo Carlo V. Hof im Palast Karls V. Une cour du palais de Charles- Quint Patlo en el Palacio Carlos V. 298 Ruins among the flowers Margariten. Rovine Ruinen in Margariten Ruines et fleurs Ruinas entre flores The Cathedral La Cathédrale Santiago de Campostela Kathedrale 300 d i if y sey itt or. e ag La Cattaedrale La Catedral In the Bay of Pontevedra (Galicia) Nel seno di Pontevedra (Galizia) In der Bucht von Pontevedra (Galicien) La baie de Pontevedra (Galice) En la ria de Pontevedra (Galicia) 301 The waves at play Giuoco delle onde Spiel der Wellen Echappée sur la mer Juego de las olas 302 (RIND) CBIA ep oveNY (RIZED) CDIA IP 9}40qG (UB|DI/ED) CBA USCA UEeyeyYy (S5}12D) OBiA: ep ysod e4 (BjDyeD) anoqueyy OBA 303 Eventide at sea (Exit of Pasages) Tramonto sul mare (Uscita del porto di Pasages) Abendfeier auf dem Meere (Ausfahrt von Pasages) Effet de soir sur la mer a la sortie de Pasages . Penumbra de la tarde en el mar (Salida de Pasages) 304 a“ ’ J } GETTY CENTER LIBRARY PHOT NH 32 H633 P61 1925 BKS c. 1 Hielscher, Kurt, 188 Picturesque Spain : architecture, landsc MANA lh 3 3125 00267 9310 Ht i Pe > = 355 st = bist * i Ht “a rs =n 235 ittiteete se nati tt i fate ite seas Egat ae if ‘ _ esi pies rere trtt Hee fe ities Ha: its ceicletetaletreyatitets et tetetah stats i iittet # ‘i Rud “f ie (lots int Beichattstetetteette el 4 ‘wel phen hehehe: Late a a ui sate eae phe tieie es Mee a3 re: 333; rH i. HH Bye st ue te ae Sr auntt th szee! sas $e # teat eS th of SMR ne nace cetetpertes ites Serene eeteastatete tates ee Poreireenraetes sur Se oy “3 nt Set tte aes tetetetes 8, ee i Sete 3 ft rer ) i ste tate tetas tetes ttt