The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-09-23
AN OLD SPANISH TOWN
BURGos. OF CASTLE, WHERE THE
CID WAS BORN AND BURIED.
Tia Former GIories Nearly All Gone
and DiIapidation the Ruie-A
Wonderful Cathedral.

Correspondence Of the indianapolis Journal.
BURGOS. Spain. Aug. 1.-THE short rail-
way ride from vaIladolid to this ancient
capital was made in darkness-Until be-
lated moon arose to glorify the earth. AT
Burgos station. far outside the city walls
a sleepy guard. with lantern in hand and
sword clanling at his heels, overhauled our
hand luggage the trunks being retained
for examination in the morning Then we
were bundled into a carriage drawn by
mules and ratified away over the wonderful
old bridge of Santa Maria and under its
towering gateway. in whose lofty inches
nlale-clad statues of the Cid and half
dozen other Burgolese worthless seemed to
grin down upon US in the uncertain light
through narrow, deserted streets, to the
Hotel del Norte. where our Jehu drew up
with a flourish that brought heads to the
surrounding windows, just as the watch
men. on their accustomed rounds. droned
out the time of night: "a las doce NADIA
(ha.f past III La noche es clara y serena
Ave Maria Sanctissimai''
By the way, who comes to Burgos would
better remember to make a strict bar
gain in advance before entering any hotel
Being on the main highway of travel. all
have become frightfully extortionate. If
every article that can possibly be required
Is not distinctly specified. even to the bed
room candle and necessary service, the
biIl-large enough. in all conscience, at first
reckoning-wiIl be doubled by interpola-
tions of extras" All the guidebooks put
down this ''hotel of the north as the best
in Burgos, and, If that be true. may
rfo rrc fha
others. Grim and gloomy outside, the first
view of its interior sends chill to your
marrow akin to that experienced in enter
ing a long-closed vault in the cemetery.
The brick floors are cold and damp in all
weather. and when you have toiled up two
or three flights of stairs, through dark and
smelly passages. and made your selection
between several equally stuffy dens of
rooms. where ghosts Of generations of dead
Spaniards seem to be fiuttering the curtains
and counterpanes that have not seen soap
md water since their long-past day-with
the knowledge that for such accommoda-
ton you must pay more per diem than for
the best in the Waldorf-Astoria of New
York city-you confess to a feeling of re-
lief that the Spanish tour. so charming in
the main, is almost over. AS to fellow
IS too narrowing to be pursued and ''the
veil would better be drawn.
ON A MoONLIT BALCONY.
Unable TO sleep for the warmth of their
welcome I spent most of my first night in
Burgos out on the balcony in the moon
light. Not far away stood one of the
grandest cathedrals in Spain-so situated on
the slope of the hill that its roof. pinnacled
was on level with my feet-the whole vast
pile looking so airy and delicate in the mel
low radiance that half expected to see 1T
float away with the mists of the morning.
Farther away rose ridge hundreds of
feet high, crowned with a castle thousand
years old, which was once the citys glory
and defiance, aad has borne its part we'll
IN innumerable wars. down to the last siege
of Wellington. These two ancient land
marks. the castle and the cathedral stand
ing over against each other and dwarfing
into insignificance the ruined city between
them. are perfect types Of the bygone
Gothic civilization and splendid monuments
of the glorious past. Then an hour in the
heart OF Spain pays for long journey, and
when at last 1 strove for forty winks,'
sitting bolt upright in a chair, as far from
that bug-haunted bed as the walls would
permit 1t was to see fairy visions floating
through half dreams of beleasuered castles
and mail-clad knights and beautiful ladies,
re-enacting their parts in the tragic ro-
nance OF the region.
Your first impressions of Burgos. by ''the
garish light of day are very disappoint-
ing The average tourist, coming down
through France. visits this place first in the
picturesque land Of the dons, and naturally
much overrates il. I say naturally be-
cause all travellers know that first impress
sicns of a country brand new TO their ex-
perience take deeper hold of the imagina-
ticn than any subsequent ones gained after
the charm Of novelty has lost its keenest
edge. Having already spent several months
in Spain, we are better prepared to give
Burgos its true rating. as compared with
other cities. At first glance its newer COM
monplace houses and white quays stretched
along the muddy Rio Arlonzon look like
some uninteresting Missouri river town,
rather than the proud old capital OF Span
iSh kings one has been led to expect. In
the best quarters of the city all hints at
former grandeur have been long succeeded
by the silence OF the grave.
SIGNS OF DECAY.
Though the population is yet near forty
Thousand, there are whole streets appar-
emily uninhabited, upon the key-stones of
whose stately but deserted mansions are
sculptured the arms and notices OF noble
families whose pedigrees can be traced
back in an unbroken series to the domina-
tion of the Goths. In other streets the an
cient casas are freshly painted, in such
gaudy colors and incongruous eombina-
lions OF bues that the beholder no longer
wonders at De Amicis's exaggerated de-
scription: ''If there were an insane asylum
for painters at Burgos. one would say
that the city had been painted some day
when its inmates had broken loose" But
the brilliant colors do not conceal the fact
tina. Burgos is hopelessly a back num-
ber," any more than rouged cheeks and
curling wig can renew an octogenarian
spinster's belledom. In the moldy market
place, surrounded by massive arcades and
balconies. are many reminders OF former
splendors, when bull fights and festivals
were held here. while the nobility occupied
the balconies and hoi poIloi crowded the