lighted by rare, loophole-like slits. In imitation of the royal palaces, reception-halls, vast and well-distributed apartments — for people had then just begun to give heed to what we term “interior distribution” — rooms for the servants, who were lodged under the same roof, extensive stables, carriagehouses and numerous out-buildings, all the accessories of an easy and luxurious life, were now found necessary.
In the city, likewise, from the street, which was still usually narrow and dirty, and was nothing more than a way of communication, a lofty porte-cochere gave entrance to a vast court, where a great number of carriages could freely circulate; a noble flight of steps hospitably offered access to a well-lighted vestibule. Galleries with high windows opened, even in Paris, on broad, regularly laid-out gardens, which imparted a seigneurial air to the edifice. Studying the old city maps, one is struck by the number and extent of these gardens. Their existence explains the fact that no little attention was paid to the plan of the streets.
The principal story, consecrated to receptions and containing the grand apartments, frankly assumed dominant importance; the other stories were made dependent upon it, or were entirely sacrificed. This was a great advantage to the architect, who was thus furnished with the necessary conditions of every composition; that is, a main theme to be accentuated, with an accompaniment always to be kept subordinate to it. A pediment decorated with emblazoned escutcheons or recumbent statues, a balcony supported on consoles, an ornamented key in the coving of the door; the other parts of the façade left smooth, or slightly enriched by a few simple and light mouldings; certain well-marked, great divisions to bind the whole together: the architects of the seventeenth century found in these, quite naturally, the motive of an imposing and symmetrical composition.
What scope for the imagination, let us ask, is left to the artists of the present day when called upon to superimpose six or seven stories, one above the other, with the stipulation that all must be of equal importance, since business interests make it imperative that the occupant of the fourth story shall be as favored as the one on the main floor?
(To be continued. )
A RUN THROUGH SPAIN. 1 — XI.
A KEEF HOUSE AND A HAREM.
THE next morning was bright and cheerful and so we started out for a tramp up over the hillside, and down again through the
town. For, as nearly all these little towns are small in extent, one passes and repasses over the same ground two or three times, in order to reach any given object of interest. Through narrow paths lined with cactus and palm trees, we threaded our way up the hill, Mohammed pointing out something of interest, and saying a word in Spanish to explain the situation. Here were men building a house with reeds and grass. They had cut them by the bundle, and tightly bound them together. These bundles were no more nor less than big stones, and they piled them one upon the other, cementing them together with mere mud. Thus every man seemed his own builder, and I heard of no strikes on the job. Probably the plumbing was as primitive, and the heating so simple that one man did the whole work.
As we got farther up the hill a glance around towards the bay showed the flat roofs and the mosque pinnacles white and glaring in the sunlight, and we began to feel the tremendous heat. Patecola trudged along without minding it at all, cool as a cucumber, the rascal, with nothing on but a long white burnoose, and sandals on his
feet. He came to our rescue, however, by leading us towards a little white mosque surrounded by palmetto. From these he collected a lot of broad leaves, and weaving them into a mat, soaked them in water and bade us place them inside our hats. Then with these improvised umbrellas we trudged along without trouble.
We came soon to another of those white, mosque-like, buildings away on the hillside, and, will you believe it, there sat a couple of
English artists shaded by their green umbrellas, and sketching the object of our own trip!
Patecola sat down in the broad sunlight and watched us as we sketched, wondering, no doubt, what in the world there was beautiful in the old mosque that he had always seen in its place. Poor fellow! Like every Moor or Arab, he believed that when we had sketched or photographed a thing we possessed its soul, be it man or mosque, and so, later on, when I endeavored to take views of groups of Moors he warned me not to do so, as it would bring down the wrath of the people. They are terribly superstitious, and will allow nothing to occur which they cannot understand. Nevertheless, I found that their souls were not extremely expensive, for I bought several of them at another time for a pesata apiece, and therefore hold possession of several good specimens of this peculiar internal organ. But I found it was not best to experiment too far on them, as a mad Moor or Arab is not an extremely pleasant subject with which to come in contact.
That evening we asked Patecola what there was interesting to be seen.
“Will you see a harem or a keef-house? ” asked he.
Well, we thought, the daytime for the harem surely, and the evening must be just the time to see the customs of the keef-house, so we started out after dark, down the street where still lay bundles of rags and naked humanity awaiting the early dawn to again go to work. The little lantern twinkled through the darkness and seemed to add an uncanny appearance to everything we met. Now and then a bundle of rags rolled over and gazed up at us, with a curse for awakening it. Not a light seemed visible any where, but ever and anon little rays of light shot out from beneath a door or through a chink. Thus we threaded our way through little alleys, hugging closely to Patecola, I can assure you, and almost expecting every moment to be waylaid by some assassin or robber. Such suggestions were intensified as we, all of a sudden, turned a corner and came upon two
drunken Arabs, half-naked, and cursing like troopers. But they seemed not to notice us as we elbowed past them, and soon arrived at a little low door where not a glimpse of light could be seen. A signal was given which admitted us, however, and we entered a lowstudded room, possibly fifteen feet square, the hack of which was lined with Arabs and negroes.
1 Continued from No. 800, page 54.
In the city, likewise, from the street, which was still usually narrow and dirty, and was nothing more than a way of communication, a lofty porte-cochere gave entrance to a vast court, where a great number of carriages could freely circulate; a noble flight of steps hospitably offered access to a well-lighted vestibule. Galleries with high windows opened, even in Paris, on broad, regularly laid-out gardens, which imparted a seigneurial air to the edifice. Studying the old city maps, one is struck by the number and extent of these gardens. Their existence explains the fact that no little attention was paid to the plan of the streets.
The principal story, consecrated to receptions and containing the grand apartments, frankly assumed dominant importance; the other stories were made dependent upon it, or were entirely sacrificed. This was a great advantage to the architect, who was thus furnished with the necessary conditions of every composition; that is, a main theme to be accentuated, with an accompaniment always to be kept subordinate to it. A pediment decorated with emblazoned escutcheons or recumbent statues, a balcony supported on consoles, an ornamented key in the coving of the door; the other parts of the façade left smooth, or slightly enriched by a few simple and light mouldings; certain well-marked, great divisions to bind the whole together: the architects of the seventeenth century found in these, quite naturally, the motive of an imposing and symmetrical composition.
What scope for the imagination, let us ask, is left to the artists of the present day when called upon to superimpose six or seven stories, one above the other, with the stipulation that all must be of equal importance, since business interests make it imperative that the occupant of the fourth story shall be as favored as the one on the main floor?
(To be continued. )
A RUN THROUGH SPAIN. 1 — XI.
A KEEF HOUSE AND A HAREM.
THE next morning was bright and cheerful and so we started out for a tramp up over the hillside, and down again through the
town. For, as nearly all these little towns are small in extent, one passes and repasses over the same ground two or three times, in order to reach any given object of interest. Through narrow paths lined with cactus and palm trees, we threaded our way up the hill, Mohammed pointing out something of interest, and saying a word in Spanish to explain the situation. Here were men building a house with reeds and grass. They had cut them by the bundle, and tightly bound them together. These bundles were no more nor less than big stones, and they piled them one upon the other, cementing them together with mere mud. Thus every man seemed his own builder, and I heard of no strikes on the job. Probably the plumbing was as primitive, and the heating so simple that one man did the whole work.
As we got farther up the hill a glance around towards the bay showed the flat roofs and the mosque pinnacles white and glaring in the sunlight, and we began to feel the tremendous heat. Patecola trudged along without minding it at all, cool as a cucumber, the rascal, with nothing on but a long white burnoose, and sandals on his
feet. He came to our rescue, however, by leading us towards a little white mosque surrounded by palmetto. From these he collected a lot of broad leaves, and weaving them into a mat, soaked them in water and bade us place them inside our hats. Then with these improvised umbrellas we trudged along without trouble.
We came soon to another of those white, mosque-like, buildings away on the hillside, and, will you believe it, there sat a couple of
English artists shaded by their green umbrellas, and sketching the object of our own trip!
Patecola sat down in the broad sunlight and watched us as we sketched, wondering, no doubt, what in the world there was beautiful in the old mosque that he had always seen in its place. Poor fellow! Like every Moor or Arab, he believed that when we had sketched or photographed a thing we possessed its soul, be it man or mosque, and so, later on, when I endeavored to take views of groups of Moors he warned me not to do so, as it would bring down the wrath of the people. They are terribly superstitious, and will allow nothing to occur which they cannot understand. Nevertheless, I found that their souls were not extremely expensive, for I bought several of them at another time for a pesata apiece, and therefore hold possession of several good specimens of this peculiar internal organ. But I found it was not best to experiment too far on them, as a mad Moor or Arab is not an extremely pleasant subject with which to come in contact.
That evening we asked Patecola what there was interesting to be seen.
“Will you see a harem or a keef-house? ” asked he.
Well, we thought, the daytime for the harem surely, and the evening must be just the time to see the customs of the keef-house, so we started out after dark, down the street where still lay bundles of rags and naked humanity awaiting the early dawn to again go to work. The little lantern twinkled through the darkness and seemed to add an uncanny appearance to everything we met. Now and then a bundle of rags rolled over and gazed up at us, with a curse for awakening it. Not a light seemed visible any where, but ever and anon little rays of light shot out from beneath a door or through a chink. Thus we threaded our way through little alleys, hugging closely to Patecola, I can assure you, and almost expecting every moment to be waylaid by some assassin or robber. Such suggestions were intensified as we, all of a sudden, turned a corner and came upon two
drunken Arabs, half-naked, and cursing like troopers. But they seemed not to notice us as we elbowed past them, and soon arrived at a little low door where not a glimpse of light could be seen. A signal was given which admitted us, however, and we entered a lowstudded room, possibly fifteen feet square, the hack of which was lined with Arabs and negroes.
1 Continued from No. 800, page 54.