Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1889-05-17
THE GAY CITY OF MADRID.
IMPRESSIONS OF THE LIFE OF THE
SPANISH CAPITAL.

Understandable Gayety and Brightness of the
Streets-Points of Interest Where His
tory Was Made-A Glimpse of Home
and Kitchen.
Spain has the fortune to lie little aside
from the personally conducted" infested
paths of travel-a Sabbath days journey into
the land of romance. Its history is hung
about with a glamour such as nowhere else
conceals the scars of time or the paltry and
sordid movement of that great disenchanter,
the present. There is probably nowhere else
people having so great part in the annals
OF the world, whose work in the vineyard of
the nations is SO entirely done and whose i'm
portance is so much matter of sentiment.
Most even of studious readers know more
of the life of Spain in the time of the Moors
or Of Columbus than of today, and to such,
especially now and in Detroit where there is
an especial interest in that country, some eX-
tracts from translation of the description
of Madrid, written by Edmondo de Amicis,
will be welcome.
1t gives picture of the modern city and its
people, written with the peculiarly light and
vivid touch which distinguishes De Amicis
and in the appreciative spirit of genuine
cosnopolite.
''The train stops" he says; 81 get out and
find myself in square full of carriages, in
the midst of noisy crowd; a thousand
hands were stretched out toward my valise;
a hundred mouths shriebed in my ear. 1t is
an indescribable confusion of porters, hack
men, guards guides, boys and commissioners
of casas de huespedes. | make way for my
self with my elbows and jump into an omni
bus full of people and away we go. We pass
through large street, cross a great square,
traverse broad, straight street and arrive at
the Puerta del Sol 1t is stupendous sight.
1t is an immense, semi-circular space, sur
rounded by high buildings, into which open,
like ten torrents, ten great streets, and from
every street come continuous noisy wave of
people and carriages, and everything seen
there is in proportion with the vastness Of the
locality. The sidewalks are as wide as streets
and the cafes as large as squares; the basin
of fountain as large as lake, and on every
side there is a dense and mobile crowd, a
deafening racket and an indescribable gayety
and brightness in the features, gestures OF
colors which make you feel that neither the
populace nor the city are strangers to you,
and which produces in you a desire to mingle
in the tumult, greet every one and run here
and there rather to recognize persons and
things than to see them for the first time.
81 get out at a hotel, leave it instantly and
begin roaming about the streets at random
jump into carriage and say to the coach
man 'VuelaI pass the statue of Murillo,
reascend the street Alcala, traverse the street
of the Turk, where Gen. Prin was assassin
ated; cross the square of the Cortes, in
which the statue of Michael Cervantes
stands; emerge on the Plaza Mayor, where
the Inquisition lighted its pyres; turn back
and, in front of the house of Lopez de la
Vega, come out on the immense square of the
Orient opposite the royal palace where rises
the equestrian statue of Philip ", in the
midst of garden surrounded by forty colos-
sal statues, climb again toward the heart of
the city, crossing other broad streets, gay
squares and cross roads filed with people.
then finally return to the hotel, declaring
that Madrid is grand, gay, rich, populous
and charming.
SPANISH SAUCES AND GRAVES.
Signor de Amicis leaves his hotel for a
casa de huespedes, evidently the American
equivalent of a boarding house of the better
class, which he evidently greatly enjoyed
He says:
''These guest houses are nothing more than
families who furnish board and lodging to
students, artists and strangers, at different
prices but always more reasonably than the
hotels, with the inestimable advantage that
one enjoys a breath of home life therein
forms friendships and is treated more like
one of the family than like boarder The
landlady was good woman in the fifties the
widow of q painter who had studied at Rome
Florence and Naples and had retained
throughout life grateful and affectionate
recollection of Italy. She too, quite natural
ly evinced a lively interest for our country
and displayed it every day by being present
when dined, recounting to me the life, death
and exploits of all her relations and friends
as if | were the sole confidant she had in Ma.
drid
ga little good will is needed in order to ha,
bituate ones self to certain sauces and gravies
peculiar to the Spanish kitchen-but accus-
toned myself to them. The French, who in
the matter of cooking are as difficult to please
as spoiled children, cry out against it, Du-
mas says he has suffered from hunger in
Spain. They mix things a trife too much,
abuse the use of fat and season too highly,
but really not enough to take away Dumas
appetite. They are masters among other
things, of sweets. Then comes their puchero,
a national dish eaten every day by the Span
iards in every place, and tell the truth when
| say that devoured it with voracious en-
joyment. The puchero is, in regard to Gull
nary art, what an anthology is to literature.
1t is a little of everything and the best.
IA good slice of boiled meat forms the nu-
cleus of the dish, around it are the wings of a
fowl, piece of sausage, lard, vegetables and
ham; over it, under it and in all the inter-
stices are garbanzos. These are a species of
bean, but they are larger, moro tender and
richer in flavor than ours. Such is the ordi-
nary puchero, but every family modifes it
according to its purse; the poor man is con-
tent with meat and garbanzos; the gentle
man adds to it a hundred delicious tidbits.
At the bottom it is more of dinner than
dish, and many eat nothing else. "-petroit
Free Press