During this early period in Europe, Gutzon also passed an interesting year in Spain about which his American friends seem to have known very little. As a record of his stay, many spirited sketches of bullfights are still extant. One of them is owned by O. R. McGuire, the art connoisseur of Washington, D. C. He also made a copy of Velasquez’ portrait of the court jester, and a wood carving done by Gregory Pardo, pupil of Michelangelo, in the Toledo cathedral. His studies of Cortez’ conquest in Mexico and the tragic fate of the Aztecs made a deep impression on him.

He prepared background sketches for a large painting which he started on his return to California. It depicted the gray dawn on the broken causeway of Mexico City when the soldiers of Cortez were floundering against the Aztecs in the gap. The episode, known to history as noche triste, was a subject that haunted Gutzon through his life. But although he first planned his picture of it for exhibition at the Columbian World’s Fair in Chicago in 1893, he seems never to have finished it.

Other sidelights of his year in Spain are found in a letter to Mrs. J. Seddon of Hollywood who bought a painting labeled “Don T., Toledo, Sept. 1892.” She had written to him for information about it, and his reply to her query was this:

I am very much interested in the picture, and I have wondered what had become of it. It ought to be in good condition, for it was honestly and well painted.

It is the portrait of a Catholic priest, Don Tomas, pronounced To-mass. He was the canon in charge of the great cathedral in Toledo, a remarkable little man, very kindly and friendly, but he belonged to the period of Philip II. He was extremely fond of bullfights. He and I attended them regularly.

I first started to paint him smoking a cigarette, but when he saw it, he threw the cigarette away and said it was undignified for a priest. He is sitting in the outer room, the library room, which forms the entrance to the Council Chamber where some 250,000 more or less heretics and Protestants were tried, burned, exiled or condemned to the galleys. The chamber beyond was like a court, surrounded with seats against the wall in which the judges sat. Into the middle of the room, the victim, or the accused, was brought.

I don’t remember much of the carving of the background, but the room was richly carved by Gregory Pardo, pupil of Michelangelo. The work was done between 1549 and 1551, and this particular chamber is called the Sala Capitula and was executed under orders of the Archbishop of Toledo and in the reign of Philip II.

Gutzon returned from Spain to California in 1893 and brought a bit of the Old World with him. He arrived to find a matter seemingly awaiting his attention, as most matters did—the restoration of California’s Spanish missions. It cannot be said that Gutzon Borglum ever came to lavish his indignation over affairs with which he was unfamiliar, and admittedly he was indignant over no small number or variety of them before he died. In this instance he found a battlefield made to order, because he had been studying the old records of the Spanish missions in Spain.

His argument about the course and methods of the restoration became his first recorded controversy, and was dragged out and redebated every time he had a disagreement with somebody about something else. But, for all that, it wasn’t much of a fight.

Charles Lummis, the editor, was at the head of a group of Californians interested in restoring the ruined missions. He appears to have been somewhat irritated when Gutzon came home from Spain and demanded an important share in the work. The reconstruction plans, the sculptor declared blithely, were prodigiously wrong. Incensed by this, Lummis wrote several angry letters to Gutzon. Gutzon, never at a loss for words, replied in kind. Unfortunately, some steps in the correspondence seem to be lacking. There is no indication of how this battle came to be resolved; however, the strong language presently ceased. Gutzon got his way about the methods that should be pursued in restoring the buildings, and he and Lummis became close friends. It appears that many of Borglum’s arguments turned out that way.