THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 BY 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 ALFEED M. HITCHCOCK, M.A. 
 
 INSTRUCTOR IN ENGLISH IN THE HARTFORD PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL 
 
 If otft 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 
 LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. 
 1900 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1899, 
 BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 
 
 J. S. Gushing & Co. Berwick & Smith 
 Norwood Mass. U.S.A. 
 
 t\J ox 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE JOURNEY 1 
 
 PALACE OF THE ALHAMBRA . . . . . . .31 
 
 IMPORTANT NEGOTIATIONS THE AUTHOR SUCCEEDS TO THE 
 
 THRONE or BOABDIL ....... 44 
 
 INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA 50 
 
 THE HALL OF AMBASSADORS 55 
 
 THE JESUITS LIBRARY ........ 60 
 
 ALHAMAR, THE FOUNDER OF THE ALHAMBRA ... 60 
 
 YUSEF ABUL HAGIG, THE FINISHER OF THE ALHAMBRA . 67 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS CHAMBERS ....... 71 
 
 PANORAMA FROM THE TOWER OF COMARES .... 79 
 
 THE TRUANT 86 
 
 THE BALCONY 89 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON ...... 95 
 
 THE COURT OF LIONS 98 
 
 THE ABENCERRAGES . 105 
 
 MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL 116 
 
 PUBLIC FETES OF GRANADA 121 
 
 LOCAL TRADITIONS . 128 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK . . . . . 130 
 
VI CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER .... 133 
 
 VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA ....... 152 
 
 RELICS AND GENEALOGIES ....... 156 
 
 THE GENERALIFE 159 
 
 LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL ; OR, THE PILGRIM 
 
 OF LOVE ... ...... * . 161 
 
 A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS ...... 192 
 
 LEGEND OF THE MOOR S LEGACY ...... 200 
 
 THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS 221 
 
 LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES . . . 222 
 
 LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA .... 246 
 
 THE VETERAN 261 
 
 THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY . ... . 263 
 
 GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER 270 
 
 A FETE IN THE ALHAMBRA ....... 287 
 
 LEGEND OF THE Two DISCREET STATUES .... 292 
 
 THE CRUSADE OF THE GRAND MASTER OF ALCANTARA . 309 
 
 SPANISH ROMANCE 317 
 
 LEGEND OF DON MUNIO SANCHO DE HINOJOSA . . . 319 
 
 POETS AND POETRY OF MOSLEM ANDALUS .... 326 
 
 AN EXPEDITION IN QUEST OF A DIPLOMA .... 332 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE ENCHANTED SOLDIER .... 335 
 
 THE AUTHOR S FAREWELL TO GRANADA .... 350 
 
LIFE OF IRVING 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING was born in New York, April 3, 1783, 
 and died at Sunnyside, his country home near Tarrytown, N. Y., 
 Nov. 28, 1859. These dates are easily remembered if we bear 
 in mind that his life lies, roughly speaking, between the close 
 of the Revolution and the beginning of the Civil War. 
 
 Although of no great significance, it is interesting to know 
 that the Irvings traced their ancestry back to one who was 
 Robert Bruce s armor-bearer. Irving s father was born in one 
 of the Orkney Islands. When a young man he went to sea and 
 after a little became a minor officer on a British packet sailing 
 between Falmouth and New York. At Falmouth he met and 
 married Sarah Sanders, and soon after, still a young man, he 
 left the sea and became a merchant in New York. He was a 
 good man, strictly honest, a stern Presbyterian. Mrs. Irving 
 was a warm-hearted woman of fine nature and good intellect. 
 One gains the impression that the children respected their 
 father and loved their mother. 
 
 Washington was the youngest of eleven children, seven of 
 whom lived to be men and women. The story of his boyhood 
 is not remarkable. He was lively, full of mischief. At school 
 he did reasonably well without showing unusual brilliancy. 
 His school days were over at sixteen. He was a reading 
 boy : Pilgrim s Progress, Robinson Crusoe, and The Arabian 
 Nights were early favorites with him. Equally delightful was 
 a set of twenty small volumes of voyages and travels entitled 
 The World Displayed. Another work that kindled his imagi- 
 
 vii 
 
viii LIFE OF IRVING 
 
 nation and gave him a desire to travel was a History of the 
 Civil Wars of Granada. He was fond, too, of the theatre, 
 and saw many plays, we are told, when his strict father thought 
 him in bed. More important still, he liked to scribble. 
 Tradition tells of a poem, written when he was but ten, to 
 ridicule a playmate; and of a play composed at thirteen. 
 About this time, too, he published a few " moral essays " in 
 The Weekly Museum. Fortunately these productions are 
 lost. They are of value only because they show an early 
 tendency toward authorship. 
 
 From the close of his school days till he was twenty-one 
 there is little to chronicle. He studied law in a half-hearted 
 way, but law was as distasteful to him as Latin. The monotony 
 was broken by two trips, forerunners of the many long journeys 
 which made Irving conspicuous as a traveller. The first of these 
 was up the Hudson to Albany, thence overland to Johnstown 
 where a married sister lived ; the other was to Montreal. We 
 can hardly realize how much these expeditions meant to young 
 Irving. The Hudson must be slowly sailed up in a sloop; 
 from Albany to Montreal much of the way lay through wild 
 forests, over roads frequently almost impassable. There were 
 discomforts to be endured, and real dangers. Adventures came 
 unsought. During this time, moreover, Irving published in The 
 Morning Chronicle, a journal edited by his brother Peter, a 
 few letters signed Jonathan Oldstyle. They were modelled 
 after The Spectator Papers, typical eighteenth-century essays, 
 humorously satirizing New York manners from the standpoint 
 of an old man. They are of moderate merit, clever enough for 
 a young man of nineteen, and furnish a valuable, though limited, 
 picture of society as it was in 1 800. 
 
 Summarizing these twenty-one years, we should remember 
 that Irving was well born ; that his schooling amounted to 
 little, much of his education being obtained through associating 
 freely with intelligent people, through journeys long for those 
 
LIFE OF IRVING IX 
 
 days, and through reading books particularly such as quicken 
 the imagination and give one a desire to travel. He had a 
 good disposition that won friends ; he was unhampered by 
 poverty. He had already learned the delights of composition. 
 
 Irving was in poor health. Hoping that travel might do 
 him good, his brothers sent him to Europe for two years, dur 
 ing which he visited France, Sicily, Italy, Holland, and Eng 
 land. It was purely a pleasure trip, not without adventures 
 with pirates by sea and robbers by land. He met delightful 
 people everywhere, and occasionally the "young American 
 traveller " was lionized. His longest stay was at Paris, where 
 he attended the theatre more regularly than he did the lecture- 
 room. No doubt some of the time during these two years 
 might have been spent more profitably ; for the most part, how 
 ever, the trip was successful, and Irving returned home in 
 excellent health. 
 
 This brings us to a period of nine years (18061815) following 
 his return from Europe. He was soon admitted to the bar, 
 and shared his brother John s office in Wall Street. Hardly can 
 it be said that he practised law. A few years later he went 
 into partnership with his brothers, Ebenezer and Peter, pro 
 prietors of a large importing house having a branch in Liver 
 pool. But it was plainly understood that the youngest brother 
 should share the profits without doing any great amount of 
 work. This arrangement, by means of which the Irvings had 
 practically a common purse, continued through life. We may 
 think of Irving, therefore, not as closely employed in business 
 affairs, but as an agreeable man about town; one of the "sad 
 dogs " whom he had satirized in the Oldstyle letters ; a young 
 man of literary promise who had been abroad a rarer thing 
 then than now, when one may cross the Atlantic between two 
 Saturdays. Occasionally he made a business trip to Washing 
 ton or Montreal, occasionally a pleasure trip to Baltimore or 
 Philadelphia ; but for the most part he remained in New York. 
 
X LIFE OP IRVING 
 
 Out of this manner of living grew his second literary ven 
 ture. In company with his brother William and his good 
 friend Paulding, he published Salmagundi, " a small pamphlet 
 in neat yellow covers," which appeared at irregular intervals 
 for about a year twenty numbers in all. "Our intention," 
 proclaimed the editors under appropriate pen names, " is 
 simply to instruct the young, reform the old, correct the town, 
 and castigate the age." It caused a breeze in the little city, 
 its pleasantly sharp satire meeting much the same reception as 
 was accorded The Spectator of one hundred years before. 
 
 Two years later (1809) Irving published A History of Neio 
 York by Died/rich Knickerbocker, which established his reputa 
 tion. It is a comic history of the city under early Dutch rule. 
 The work was heralded by a number of sham advertisements, 
 the purport of which was that an eccentric old man, Diedrich 
 Knickerbocker, had recently disappeared from his lodgings. 
 He had left behind him nothing but a " curious manuscript " 
 which his landlord proposed to publish to pay for the old 
 gentleman s board. It was a great success. Some were slow 
 to appreciate its humor, and a few thought their sacred ances 
 tors had been handled too freely; but at last the joke was 
 appreciated by all. How very popular this history has been is 
 attested by the liberal way in which the word Knickerbocker 
 has been used in the commercial world. It is like the word 
 Pickwick in England and Waverley in Scotland. 
 
 Except a few minor essays, written for the Analectic Maga 
 zine, of which Irving was for a time editor, the two publications 
 mentioned are all that belong to this period. Before passing 
 on, however, mention should be made of an event of great 
 significance the death of Matilda Hoffman, a girl of beautiful 
 character, to whom Irving was engaged. This extreme sorrow 
 colored the remainder of his life. He did not marry, and after 
 his death evidence was found that he had cherished this sorrow 
 through many years. It is well to remember Miss Hoffman 
 
LIFE OF IRVING xi 
 
 in connection with the ancestor who served Robert Bruce, the 
 one typifying the tender sentiment, the other the romantic 
 element, in Irving s character. 
 
 And now we come to a period of seventeen years (1815-1832) 
 spent abroad in England, France, and Spain, with side trips to 
 Scotland, Wales, and Germany. It is odd that he should have 
 remained abroad so long, even though we remember that one of 
 his sisters then lived in Birmingham, and his brother Peter 
 lived in Liverpool ; remember, too, how fond he was of travel. 
 The long stay was unpremeditated; one thing after another 
 prevented his return. To begin with, his brother was in poor 
 health, unable to attend to business ; affairs were in a bad way 
 owing to a depression in trade. For three years, except for 
 occasional vacation trips, one of which took him to Abbotsford 
 and resulted in a lifelong friendship with Sir Walter, the young 
 author kept closely to business, a novel and far from pleasant 
 experience. Matters grew worse, and finally the firm became 
 bankrupt. It was a hard blow to bear, yet it resulted eventu 
 ally in good ; for Irving, although not absolutely penniless, felt 
 that he must write steadily to gain a living. He went to Lon 
 don, like so many other authors before his day, and trusted 
 entirely to his pen. 
 
 In 1819-1820 appeared The Sketch-Book, first issued in Amer 
 ica in seven thin volumes published at irregular intervals, after 
 wards published in England in two volumes. We are all 
 familiar with its contents fanciful and sentimental essays, 
 with here and there a humorous tale gracefully told. The sales 
 were tremendous, for those days, in England as well as America. 
 Two years later Bracebridge Hall appeared, written principally 
 in Paris, where Irving was then living with his invalid brother. 
 It is really a second sketch-book, telling of the holiday happen 
 ings at an English country seat. Two or three tales mingle 
 with the narrative. Two years later still, after a year or so of 
 travel in central Europe, a third sketch-book appeared, Tales of 
 
 1 
 
xii LIFE OF IRVING 
 
 a Traveller, a collection of stories picked up here and there dur 
 ing his travels, or half remembered from early reading. The 
 author imagines himself interrupted in a voyage down the Ehine 
 by illness, which confines him to an inn. He writes to while 
 away time. These three works, so like in character, do not 
 differ greatly in merit. The Sketch-Book, partly because first 
 to appear, partly because it contains " Rip Van Winkle " and 
 " The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," remains the favorite. It is 
 the most American of the three. 
 
 In 1826, Irving, having now lived abroad about ten years, 
 turned his attention to a new field. For years Spain had been 
 to him an enchanted land. A desire to visit the country, kindled 
 years before through reading Gines Perez de Hytas s History 
 of the Civil Wars of Granada, had been increased by a study 
 of Spanish literature. We next hear of him in Madrid, attached 
 for convenience to the American legation, hard at work. In 
 two years appeared The Life and Voyages of Christopher 
 Columbus, based principally upon a Spanish work just then 
 being published. It was followed three years later by The 
 Voyages of the Companions of Columbus. 
 
 But Spain abounds in legends, its history is most romantic ; 
 and it was inevitable that as Irving pored over parchment 
 tomes his interest should wander from that which pertained to 
 Columbus alone. Particularly was he pleased with the part 
 the Moors had played in Spanish history. A year after Voyages 
 of Columbus appeared, he published The Conquest of Granada, 
 and two years later still The Alhambra. The first of these 
 tells, in graceful English, how the Moors, after seven hundred 
 years dominion, were driven out of Spain. The Alhambra, per 
 haps the best of all his sketch-books, grew out of a three months 
 residence in the almost deserted palace and fortification of Al 
 hambra in Granada. It consists of chapters of Moorish history, 
 accounts of daily happenings, and a number of Moorish legends. 
 
 It was while dreaming away his time most happily in this 
 
LIFE OF IRVING xiii 
 
 ancient palace and resting after the severe labor connected with 
 his Spanish works, that news reached Irving of his appointment 
 as Secretary of the American Legation to London, a diplomatic 
 position which he filled with credit for two years. At the end 
 of this period he resigned his post to return to America. 
 
 Much might be said of what Irving did during these seven 
 teen years abroad besides the writing of books. Although he 
 suffered frequently from ill health, the time passed pleasantly 
 on the whole. He read many books, saw many plays, travelled 
 where fancy led. He mingled much with society of the best 
 kind, meeting most of the noted men and women of the day. 
 He made warm friendships everywhere. His reputation as a 
 writer and his gentlemanly bearing were a passport wherever 
 he went. The Royal Academy of History in Madrid awarded 
 him a medal; Oxford conferred the degree of LL.D. amid 
 cries of " Knickerbocker " and " Rip Van Winkle." Nor were 
 honors lacking in his own country. On his arrival in New 
 York he was greeted with a public dinner ; later he was asked 
 to run as candidate for mayor of the city. He declined to 
 accept a cabinet position in Washington. With fame had 
 come moderate wealth, for his books had all brought large 
 sums; and although he had lost much through bad invest 
 ments and had given liberal sums to his brother Peter, he 
 was in comfortable circumstances. 
 
 Irving remained in America ten years. Out of a trip taken 
 with a government commission to the Indian tribes of the 
 Great Plains, came A Tour of the Prairie. This led to 
 Astoria, an account of Mr. Astor s attempt to found a settle 
 ment at the mouth of the Columbia River. The Adventures 
 of Captain Bonneville makes a third book dealing with the 
 West. These little -read books are inferior to his other 
 works. Their subject-matter excludes the possibility of great 
 originality; yet they form a trio of interest to all who are 
 fond of adventure as it appeared in the old trapping days. 
 
xiv LIFE OF IRVING 
 
 Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey, containing accounts of the 
 homes of Scott and Byron, and Legends of the Conquest of 
 Spain, are two more volumes belonging to this period. 
 
 For many years Irving had been a rover ; now, somewhat 
 advanced in years, he longed for a home. All the world knows 
 of Sunnyside. It was a simple farmstead at first, but under 
 Irving s care it grew into a beautiful home to which nephews, 
 nieces, and other available relatives were welcomed. Here his 
 invalid brother Peter, now a broken old man, came to end his 
 days. It was an expensive establishment to maintain, yet 
 Irving labored willingly to keep it up at a time of life when 
 most men would have rested. It was, indirectly, to maintain 
 this snug little home in which so many of his relatives were 
 comfortably housed that he accepted, when fifty-nine years old, 
 an appointment as Minister to Spain. It was a high honor, but 
 it took him to a country threatened repeatedly with civil war, 
 making his position a difficult one to fill. Ill health, moreover, 
 added discomfort, and he was further disappointed in finding no 
 time for literary work. 
 
 At the end of four years we find him back at Sunnyside, 
 where he remained till his death. These last years form a 
 happy ending to a long and useful life. He was in his own 
 home, surrounded by those who loved him. Sunnyside was a 
 literary shrine to which the great writers of the day came 
 gladly, and were always warmly welcomed. And yet, there 
 is an element of sadness about his declining years. Though 
 strength was failing him, he felt that he must labor on, partly 
 to support his home, partly to leave behind him a monumental 
 work something better than his pen had yet achieved, a gift 
 to his country. This magnum opus was The Life of George 
 Washington. In addition he carefully revised all his works, 
 .and added to them two volumes, Mahomet and his Successors 
 and A Life of Oliver Goldsmith. This was a heavy task for 
 an old man. It was his constant fear that he should not live 
 
 I 
 
AN ESTIMATE OF IRVING XV 
 
 to complete all that he had planned to do. Scarcely had the 
 last page of the magnum opus been written when he passed 
 away. 
 
 His death was a matter for a nation s mourning. Flags in 
 New York were at half-mast. Throughout the length and 
 breadth of the land, even beyond the Atlantic, thousands 
 mourned who felt the loss a personal one. His body lies in 
 the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery near Sunnyside. 
 
 Several lives of Irving have been written. By far the best 
 is The Life and Letters of Washington Irving, by his nephew, 
 Pierre M. Irving, a work in four volumes. Mr. Charles Dudley 
 Warner s Washington Irving in the American Men of Letters 
 Series is the best one-volume biography. Of the many briefer 
 sketches it is impossible to select the best. Periodical indexes, 
 such as are to be found in all libraries, reveal a great many 
 critical and biographical essays. A sane estimate of Irving s 
 place in literature is to be found in Professor C. F. Eichardson s 
 American Literature. The brief sketch above owes something 
 to each of these sources. 
 
 AN ESTIMATE OF IRVING 
 
 It is pretty well agreed that the essential qualities of Irving s 
 works are sentiment and humor. To these might be added an 
 indefinable moral quality akin to that which is sometimes felt 
 in the tone of certain voices. Finally, the charm of his writ 
 ings consists not so much in subject-matter as in graceful, me 
 lodious expression. He lacks the fire, the virility, of a great 
 essayist ; the free imagination of a great romancer ; the broad 
 knowledge and fine discrimination of a great historian. He is 
 always entertaining, always worth reading. 
 
 Irving s place in American literature is clearly defined. He 
 is our first successful man of letters. He is the earliest of a 
 
XVI IRVING S WORKS 
 
 long line of short-story writers. If we except Franklin, he is 
 our first prominent essayist. As an historian, he leads a re 
 markable group containing such names as Bancroft, Prescott, 
 Motley, Parkman, and Palfrey ; behind him we find but the 
 old annalists of Puritan days, and the later group of minor 
 local historians of whom Belknap is a type. We may almost 
 say that American prose, in the legitimate fields of literature, 
 begins with Washington Irving. 
 
 Perhaps it is profitless to conjecture what Irving would 
 have produced had he been born in Boston instead of New 
 York ; what effect poverty, or some grief less attractive than 
 the loss of a first love, might have produced in his nature. 
 Living in an era when sentiment often flattened into senti 
 mentality, and in a country where provincial smartness was 
 sometimes a trifle noisy and boastful, he escaped glaring faults 
 almost entirely. What would Irving produce if he were writing 
 to-day? What would he have produced had he lived in the 
 days of Addison and Steele ] 
 
 IRVINGTS WORKS 
 
 1802. Jonathan Oldstyle Papers. 
 
 Nine letters on drama and fashion in New York, exceedingly 
 interesting in their glimpses of society in 1800. Published in 
 the Morning Chronicle, edited by his brother Peter. 
 
 1807. Salmagundi. 
 
 " A small pamphlet in neat yellow covers, " published at irreg 
 ular intervals for a year twenty numbers in all. Written by 
 Irving, his brother William, and Jarnes Kirk Pauldiug. Satir 
 ized New York in a manner similar to that of The Spectator, 
 after which it was patterned. 
 
 1809. A History of New York, by " Diedrich Knickerbocker." 
 A comic history of the city under Dutch rule. This work 
 established Irving s reputation as a humorist. 
 
IR VING- S WORKS X vii 
 
 1819-1820. The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent. 
 
 Essays narrative and descriptive, touched with sentiment 
 and humor, with here and there a graceful tale. 
 
 1822. Bracebridge Hall, by " Geoffrey Crayon, Gent." 
 
 Similar to The Sketch-Book. The sketches are given unity 
 by being grouped about a visit to an English country seat 
 during the holidays. 
 
 1824. Tales of a Traveller, by " Geoffrey Crayon, Gent." 
 
 Stories picked up here and there during his travels, or half 
 remembered from early reading. 
 
 1828. The Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus. 
 Based upon Navarrete s Voyages of Columbus. 
 
 1829. Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada. 
 
 An account of a ten years war between the Spaniards and 
 the Moors, resulting in the final capture of Granada, and the 
 termination of Moorish dominion in Spain, which had pre 
 vailed over seven hundred years. 
 
 1831. Voyages of the Companions of Columbus. 
 Supplementary to the second work above. 
 
 1832. The Alhambra. 
 
 A Spanish sketch-book, giving an account of a three months 
 residence in the old Moorish palace. Legends and brief chap 
 ters of history mingle with the narrative and descriptive 
 sketches. 
 
 1835. A Tour of the Prairies. 
 
 Published as Vol. I. of Crayon Miscellany. An account of a 
 trip to the middle West, in company with a government com 
 mission. 
 
 1835. Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey. 
 
 Volume II. of Crayon Miscellany. Account of visits to 
 homes of Scott and Byron. 
 
 1835. Legends of the Conquest of Spain. 
 
 Volume III. of Crayon Miscellany. Miscellaneous papers, 
 supplementary to The Conquest of Granada. Tells of the 
 downfall of the Goths in Spain, and the coming of the Moors. 
 
xviii SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY 
 
 1836. Astoria. 
 
 An account of John Jacob Astor s attempt to found a 
 settlement at the mouth of the Columbia River. Compiled 
 from documents furnished by Mr. Astor. 
 
 1837. The Adventures of Captain Bonneville. 
 
 Irving purchased from Captain Bonneville a manuscript 
 account of his trapping expeditions beyond the Rockies, which 
 he elaborated into an interesting volume of adventure. Like 
 A storia, it has no claim on originality, Irving s part being that 
 of editor, and little more. 
 
 1849. Life of Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 An excellent biography based upon a brief sketch written 
 years before. Irving and Goldsmith had much in common. 
 
 1849. Mahomet and His Successors. 
 
 Tells of the rise and spread of Mohammedanism up to the 
 invasion of Spain. Charles Kendall Adams says of this work, 
 " Like all of Irving s histories, it does much to compensate for 
 any lack of profound research by the charm of an unusually 
 attractive style." 
 
 1855. Wolf erf s Boost. 
 
 Miscellaneous articles of little value, most of which had been 
 published in the Knickerbocker Magazine. 
 
 1855-1859. Life of George Washington. 
 
 A popular, almost standard account, showing painstaking 
 effort. It has the charm of all his writings, but is the labor of 
 an essayist, not of a statesman or a close student of history. 
 
 SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDY 
 
 Read The Alhambra aloud. Use a dictionary, and a good 
 map of Spain. 
 
 Study Irving s art and character. Where is he at his best ? 
 What is the secret of his art ? How does he differ from Haw 
 thorne and Stevenson ? How does his character differ from 
 your own? Edward Everett has said, "If any one wishes to 
 study a style which possesses the characteristic beauties of Addi- 
 
PREFACE xix 
 
 son, its ease, simplicity, and elegance, with greater accuracy, 
 point, and spirit, let him give his days and nights to the vol 
 umes of Irving." Is this advice extravagant ? 
 
 Let The Alhambra be a gateway through which you pass to 
 other literary journeyings. There are many pleasant paths 
 leading through others of living s works ; if you like this sketch 
 book, try the others. Don Quixote, the masterpiece of Span 
 ish prose fiction, a humorous extravaganza at which all the 
 world has laughed, is quite a different sort of journey. The 
 Arabian Nights, a collection of stories related closely to the 
 Moorish tales of the Alhambra, suggests another pleasant route. 
 How does the Arabian tale differ from the Greek myth as 
 retold by Hawthorne, or from the German folk stories collected 
 by the Grimm brothers 1 
 
 If the historical chapters in The Alhambra have interested 
 you, read the entire account of the Moorish migration as given 
 by Irving in Mahomet and His Successors, Legends of the Con 
 quest of Spain, and The Conquest of Granada. The Story of 
 the Moors in Spain by Stanley Lane-Poole, and The Christian 
 Recovery of Spain by Henry E. Watts are brief, popular works 
 on this subject. Other chapters of Spanish history are equally 
 interesting. Prescott s The Conquest of Mexico and The Con 
 quest of Peru tell in an interesting manner of Spam s conquest 
 in the New World. 
 
 The best set of illustrations of the Alhambra is an expensive 
 folio by Owen Jones. Nearly all recent editions of living s 
 works contain a few good illustrations. Baedeker s Spain gives 
 valuable information about the Granada of to-day. 
 
 A. M. H. 
 
XX PREFACE 
 
 PREFACE TO THE REVISED EDITION 
 
 ROUGH draughts of some of the following tales and essays 
 were actually written during a residence in the Alhambra; 
 others were subsequently added, founded on notes and observa 
 tions made there. Care was taken to maintain local coloring 
 and verisimilitude ; so that the whole might present a faithful 
 and living picture of that microcosm, that singular little world 
 into which I had been fortuitously thrown ; and about which 
 the external world had a very imperfect idea. It was my en 
 deavor scrupulously to depict its half Spanish, half Oriental 
 character; its mixture of the heroic, the poetic, and the gro 
 tesque ; to revive the traces of grace and beauty fast fading 
 from its walls ; to record the regal and chivalrous traditions 
 concerning those who once trod its courts, and the whimsical 
 and superstitious legends of the motley race now burrowing 
 among its ruins. 
 
 The papers thus roughly sketched out lay for three or four 
 years in my portfolio, until I found myself in London, in 1832, 
 on the eve of returning to the United States. I then endeav 
 ored to arrange them for the press, but the preparations for 
 departure did not allow sufficient leisure. Several were thrown 
 aside as incomplete ; the rest were put together somewhat 
 hastily and in rather a crude and chaotic manner. 
 
 In the present edition I have revised and rearranged the 
 whole work, enlarged some parts, and added others, including 
 the papers originally omitted; and have thus endeavored to 
 render it more complete and more worthy of the indulgent 
 reception with which it has been favored, 
 
 W.I. 
 
 SUNNYSIDE. 1851. 
 
THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 THE JOURNEY 
 
 IN the spring of 1829, the author of this work, whom curi 
 osity had brought into Spain, made a rambling expedition 
 from Seville to Granada in company with a friend, a member 
 of the Russian Embassy at Madrid. Accident had thrown us 
 together from distant regions of the globe and a similarity of 
 taste led us to wander together among the romantic mountains 
 of Andalusia. Should these pages meet his eye, wherever 
 thrown by the duties of his station, whether mingling in the 
 pageantry of courts, or meditating on the truer glories of 
 nature, may they recall the scenes of our adventurous com 
 panionship, and with them the recollection of one, in whom 
 neither time nor distance will obliterate the remembrance of 
 his gentleness and worth. 1 
 
 And here, before setting forth, let me indulge in a few pre 
 vious remarks on Spanish scenery and Spanish travelling. 
 Many are apt to picture Spain to their imaginations as a soft 
 southern region, decked out with the luxuriant charms of volup 
 tuous Italy. On the contrary, though there are exceptions in 
 some of the maritime provinces, yet, for the greater part, it is 
 a stern, melancholy country, with rugged mountains, and long 
 sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and indescribably silent and 
 lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary character of 
 
 B 1 
 
2 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Africa. What adds to this silence and loneliness, is the absence 
 of singing-birds, a natural consequence of the want of groves 
 and hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen wheeling about 
 the mountain-cliffs, and soaring over the plains, and groups of 
 shy bustards stalk about the heaths ; but the myriads of 
 smaller birds, which animate the whole face of other countries, 
 are met with in but few provinces in Spain, and in those 
 chiefly among the orchards and gardens which surround the 
 habitations of man. 
 
 In the interior provinces the traveller occasionally traverses 
 great tracts cultivated with grain as far as the eye can reach, 
 waving at times with verdure, at other times naked and sun 
 burnt, but he looks round in vain for the hand that has tilled 
 the soil. At length he perceives some village on a steep hill, 
 or rugged crag, with mouldering battlements and ruined watch- 
 tower : a stronghold, in old times, against civil war, or Moorish 
 inroad ; for the custom among the peasantry of congregating 
 together for mutual protection is still kept up in most parts 
 of Spain, in consequence of the maraudings of roving freebooters. 
 
 But though a great part of Spain is deficient in the garni 
 ture of groves and forests, and the softer charms of ornamental 
 cultivation, yet its scenery is noble in its severity and in unison 
 with the attributes of its people; and I think that I better 
 understand the proud, hardy, frugal, and abstemious Spaniard, 
 his manly defiance of hardships, and contempt of effeminate in 
 dulgences, since I have seen the country he inhabits. 
 
 There is something, too, in the sternly simple features of the 
 Spanish landscape, that impresses on the soul a feeling of sub 
 limity. The immense plains of the Castiles and of La Mancha, 
 extending as far as the eye can reach, derive an interest from 
 their very nakedness and immensity, and possess, in some degree, 
 the solemn grandeur of the ocean. In ranging over these boundless 
 wastes, the eye catches sight here and there of a straggling herd 
 of cattle attended by a lonely herdsman, motionless as a statue, 
 
THE JOURNEY 3 
 
 with his long slender pike tapering up like a lance into the air; 
 or beholds a long train of mules slowly moving along the waste 
 like a train of camels in the desert ; or a single horseman, armed 
 with blunderbuss and stiletto, and prowling over the plain. 
 Thus the country, the habits, the very looks of the people, have 
 something of the Arabian character. The general insecurity of 
 the country is evinced in the universal use of weapons. The 
 herdsman in the field, the shepherd in the plain, has his musket 
 and his knife. The wealthy villager rarely ventures to the 
 market-town without his trabuco, and, perhaps, a servant on 
 foot with a blunderbuss on his shoulder ; and the most petty 
 journey is undertaken with the preparation of a warlike enter 
 prise. 
 
 The dangers of the road produce also a mode of travelling 
 resembling, on a diminutive scale, the caravans of the East. 
 The arrieros, or carriers, congregate in convoys, and set off in 
 large and well-armed trains on appointed days ; while additional 
 travellers swell their number, and contribute to their strength. 
 In this primitive way is the commerce of the country carried 
 on. The muleteer is the general medium of traffic, and the 
 legitimate traverser of the land, crossing the peninsula from the 
 Pyrenees and the Asturias to the Alpuxarras, the Serrania de 
 Ronda, and even to the gates of Gibraltar. .He lives frugally 
 and hardily : his alforjas of coarse cloth hold his scanty stock of 
 provisions ; a leathern bottle, hanging at his saddle-bow, con 
 tains wine or water, for a supply across barren mountains and 
 thirsty plains ; a mule-cloth spread upon the ground is his bed 
 at night, and his pack-saddle his pillow. His low, but clean 
 limbed and sinewy form betokens strength ; his complexion is 
 dark and sunburnt ; his eye resolute, but quiet in its expression, 
 except when kindled by sudden emotion ; his demeanor is frank, 
 manly, and courteous, and he never passes you without a grave 
 salutation: " Dios guarde a usted!" "Fa usted con Dios, 
 Caballero! " God guard you ! " "God be with you, Cavalier ! " 
 
4 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 As these men have often their whole fortune at stake upon 
 the burden of their mules, they have their weapons at hand, 
 slung to their saddles, and ready to be snatched out for desper 
 ate defence ; but their united numbers render them secure 
 against petty bands of marauders, and the solitary bandolero, 
 armed to the teeth, and mounted on his Andalusian steed, 
 hovers about them, like a pirate about a merchant convoy, 
 without daring to assault. 
 
 The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of songs and 
 ballads, with which to beguile his incessant wayfaring. The 
 airs are rude and simple, consisting of but few inflections. 
 These he chants forth with a loud voice, and long, drawling 
 cadence, seated sideways on his mule, who seems to listen with 
 infinite gravity, and to keep time, with his paces, to the tune. 
 The couplets thus chanted are often old traditional romances 
 about the Moors, or some legend of a saint, or some love-ditty ; 
 or, what is still more frequent, some ballad about a bold con- 
 trabandista, or hardy bandolero, for the smuggler and the robber 
 are poetical heroes among the common people of Spain. Often, 
 the song of the muleteer is composed at the instant, and relates 
 to some local scene, or some incident of the journey. This 
 talent of singing and improvising is frequent in Spain, and is 
 said to have been inherited from the Moors. There is some 
 thing wildly pleasing in listening to these ditties among the 
 rude and lonely scenes they illustrate ; accompanied, as they 
 are, by the occasional jingle of the mule-bell. 
 
 It has a most picturesque effect also to meet a train of mule 
 teers in some mountain-pass. First you hear the bells of the 
 leading mules, breaking with their simple melody the stillness 
 of the airy height ; or, perhaps, the voice of the muleteer admon 
 ishing some tardy or wandering animal, or chanting, at the full 
 stretch of his lungs, some traditionary ballad. At length you 
 see the mules slowly winding along the cragged defile, some 
 times descending precipitous cliffs, so as to present themselves 
 
THE JOURNEY 5 
 
 in full relief against the sky, sometimes toiling up the deep arid 
 chasms below you. As they approach, you descry their gay 
 decorations of worsted stuffs, tassels, and saddle-cloths, while, 
 as they pass by, the ever ready trabuco, slung behind the packs 
 and saddles, gives a hint of the insecurity of the road. 
 
 The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which we were about 
 to penetrate, is one of the most mountainous regions of Spain. 
 Vast sierras, or chains of mountains, destitute of shrub or tree, 
 and mottled with variegated marbles and granites, elevate their 
 sunburnt summits against a deep-blue sky ; yet in their rugged 
 bosoms lie ingulfed verdant and fertile valleys, where the 
 desert and the garden strive for mastery, and the very rock is, 
 as it were, compelled to yield the fig, the orange, and the citron, 
 and to blossom with the myrtle and the rose. 
 
 In the wild passes of these mountains the sight of walled 
 towns and villages, built like eagles nests among the cliffs, and 
 surrounded by Moorish battlements, or of ruined watch-towers 
 perched on lofty peaks, carries the mind back to the chivalric 
 days of Christian and Moslem warfare, and to the romantic 
 struggle for the conquest of Granada. In traversing these lofty 
 sierras the traveller is often obliged to alight, and lead his horse up 
 and down the steep and jagged ascents and descents, resembling the 
 broken steps of a staircase. Sometimes the road winds along dizzy 
 precipices, without parapet to guard him from the gulfs below, 
 and then will plunge down steep and dark and dangerous decliv 
 ities. Sometimes it struggles through rugged barrancos, or 
 ravines, worn by winter torrents, the obscure path of the con- 
 trabandista ; while, ever and anon, the ominous cross, the mon 
 ument of robbery and murder, erected on a mound of stones at 
 some lonely part of the road, admonishes the traveller that he 
 is among the haunts of banditti, perhaps at that very moment 
 under the eye of some lurking bandolero. Sometimes, in wind 
 ing through the narrow valleys, he is startled by a hoarse bel 
 lowing, and beholds above him on some green fold of the 
 
6 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 mountain a herd of fierce Andalusian bulls, destined for the 
 combat of the arena. I have felt, if I may so express it, an 
 agreeable horror in thus contemplating, near at hand, these 
 terrific animals, clothed with tremendous strength, and ranging 
 their native pastures in untamed wildness, strangers almost to 
 the face of man : they know no one but the solitary herdsman 
 who attends upon them, and even he at times dares not venture 
 to approach them. The low bellowing of these bulls, and their 
 menacing aspect as they look down from their rocky height, give 
 additional wildness to the savage scenery. 
 
 I have been betrayed unconsciously into a longer disquisition 
 than I intended on the general features of Spanish travelling ; 
 but there is a romance about all the recollections of the Penin 
 sula dear to the imagination. 
 
 As our proposed route to Granada lay through mountainous 
 regions, where the roads are little better than mule-paths, and 
 said to be frequently beset by robbers, we took due travelling 
 precautions. Forwarding the most valuable part of our luggage 
 a day or two in advance by the arrieros, we retained merely 
 clothing and necessaries for the journey and money for the 
 expenses of the road ; with a little surplus of hard dollars by 
 way of robber purse, to satisfy the gentlemen of the road should 
 we be assailed. Unlucky is the too wary traveller who, having 
 grudged this precaution, falls into their clutches empty-handed ; 
 they are apt to give him a sound rib-roasting for cheating them 
 out of their dues. " Caballeros like them cannot afford to scour 
 the roads and risk the gallows for nothing." 
 
 A couple of stout steeds were provided for our own mount 
 ing, and a third for our scanty luggage and the conveyance of 
 a sturdy Biscayan lad, about twenty years of age, who was to 
 be our guide, our groom, our valet, and at all times our guard. 
 For the latter office he was provided with a formidable trabuco 
 or carbine, with which he promised to defend us against rateros 
 or solitary foot-pads; but as to powerful bands, like that of 
 
THE JOURNEY 7 
 
 the "Sons of Ecija," he confessed they were quite beyond his 
 prowess. He made much vainglorious boast about his weapon 
 at the outset of the journey ; though, to the discredit of his 
 generalship, it was suffered to hang unloaded behind his saddle. 
 
 According to our stipulations, the man from whom we hired 
 the horses was to be at the expense of their feed and stabling 
 on the journey, as well as of the maintenance of our Biscay an 
 squire, who of course was provided with funds for the purpose ; 
 we took care, however, to give the latter a private hint, that, 
 though we made a close bargain with his master, it was all in 
 his favor, as, if he proved a good man and true, both he and the 
 horses should live at our cost, and the money provided for their 
 maintenance remain in his pocket. This unexpected largess, 
 with the occasional present of a cigar, won his heart completely. 
 He was, in truth, a faithful, cheery, kind-hearted creature, as 
 full of saws and proverbs as that miracle of squires, the renowned 
 Sancho himself, whose name, by the by, we bestowed upon him, 
 and, like a true Spaniard, though treated by us with compan 
 ionable familiarity, he never for a moment, in his utmost hilar 
 ity, overstepped the bounds of respectful decorum. 
 
 Such were our minor preparations for the journey, but above 
 all we laid in an ample stock of good-humor, and a genuine dis 
 position to be pleased ; determining to travel in true contraban- 
 dista style ; taking things as we found them, rough or smooth, 
 and mingling with all classes and conditions in a kind of vaga 
 bond companionship. It is the true way to travel in Spain. 
 With such disposition and determination, what a country is it* 
 for a traveller, where the most miserable inn is as full of adven 
 ture as an enchanted castle, and every meal is in itself an 
 achievement ! Let others repine at the lack of turnpike roads 
 and sumptuous hotels, and all the elaborate comforts of a coun 
 try cultivated and civilized into tameness and commonplace ; 
 but give me the rude mountain scramble ; the roving, hap-hazard 
 wayfaring; the half wild, yet frank and hospitable manners, 
 
8 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 which impart such a true game-flavor to dear old romantic 
 Spain ! 
 
 Thus equipped and attended, we cantered out of "Fair Seville 
 city " at half-past six in the morning of a bright May day, in 
 company with a lady and gentleman of our acquaintance, who 
 rode a few miles with us, in the Spanish mode of taking leave. 
 Our route lay through old Alcala de Guadaira (Alcala on the 
 river Aira), the benefactress of Seville, that supplies it with 
 bread and water. Here live the bakers who furnish Seville with 
 that delicious bread for which it is renowned ; here are fabricated 
 those roscas well known by the well-merited appellation of pan 
 de Dios (bread of God) ; with which, by the way, we ordered our 
 man, Sancho, to stock his alforjas for the journey. Well has 
 this beneficent little city been denominated the " Oven of 
 Seville"; well has it been called Alcala de los Panaderos (Alcala 
 of the bakers), for a great part of its inhabitants are of that 
 handicraft, and the highway hence to Seville is constantly 
 traversed by lines of mules and donkeys laden with great pan 
 niers of loaves and roscas. 
 
 I have said Alcala supplies Seville with water. Here are 
 great tanks or reservoirs, of Roman and Moorish construction, 
 whence water is conveyed to Seville by noble aqueducts. The 
 springs of Alcala are almost as much vaunted as its ovens ; and 
 to the lightness, sweetness, and purity of its water is attributed 
 in some measure the delicacy of its bread. 
 
 Here we halted for a time, at the ruins of the old Moorish 
 castle, a favorite resort for picnic parties from Seville, where we 
 had passed many a pleasant hour. The walls are of great ex 
 tent, pierced with loopholes ; enclosing a huge square tower or 
 keep, with the remains of masmoras, or subterranean granaries. 
 The Guadaira winds its stream round the hill, at the foot of 
 these ruins, whimpering among reeds, rushes, and pond-lilies, 
 and overhung with rhododendron, eglantine, yellow myrtle, and 
 a profusion of wild flowers and aromatic shrubs ; while along 
 
THE JOURNEY 9 
 
 its banks are groves of oranges, citrons, and pomegranates, among 
 which we heard the early note of the nightingale. 
 
 A picturesque bridge was thrown across the little river, at 
 one end of which was the ancient Moorish mill of the castle, de 
 fended by a tower of yellow stone ; a fisherman s net hung 
 against the wall to dry, and hard by in the river was his boat ; 
 a group of peasant women in bright-colored dresses, crossing the 
 arched bridge, were reflected in the placid stream. Altogether 
 it was an admirable scene for a landscape-painter. 
 
 The old Moorish mills, so often found on secluded streams, are 
 characteristic objects in Spanish landscape, and suggestive of 
 the perilous times of old. They are of stone, and often in the 
 form of towers with loopholes and battlements, capable of de 
 fence in those warlike days when the country on both sides of 
 the border was subject to sudden inroad and hasty ravage, and 
 when men had to labor with their weapons at hand, and some 
 place of temporary refuge. 
 
 Our next halting-place was at Gandul, where were the re 
 mains of another Moorish castle, with its ruined tower, a nest 
 ling-place for storks, and commanding a view over a vast campina 
 or fertile plain, with the mountains of Ronda in the distance. 
 These castles were strongholds to protect the plains from the 
 talas or forays to which they were subject, when the fields of 
 corn would be laid waste, the flocks and herds swept from the 
 vast pastures, and, together with captive peasantry, hurried off 
 in long cavalgadas across the borders. 
 
 At Gandul we found a tolerable posada ; the good folks could 
 not tell us what time of day it was, the clock only struck once 
 in the day, two hours after noon ; unti^ that time it was guess 
 work. We guessed it was full time to eat ; so, alighting, we 
 ordered a repast. While that was in preparation, we visited 
 the palace once the residence of the Marquis of Gandul. All 
 was gone to decay ; there were but two or three rooms habita 
 ble, and very poorly furnished. Yet here were the remains of 
 
10 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 grandeur : a terrace, where fair dames and gentle cavaliers may 
 once have walked ; a fish-pond and ruined garden, with grape 
 vines and date-bearing palm-trees. Here we were joined by a 
 fat curate, who gathered a bouquet of roses, and presented it, 
 very gallantly, to the lady who accompanied us. 
 
 Below the palace was the mill, with orange-trees and aloes in 
 front, and a pretty stream of pure water. We took a seat in 
 the shade ; and the millers, all leaving their work, sat down and 
 smoked with us ; for the Andalusians are always ready for a 
 gossip. They were waiting for the regular visit of the barber, 
 who came once a week to put all their chins in order. He 
 arrived shortly afterwards : a lad of seventeen, mounted on a 
 donkey, eager to display his new alforjas or saddle-bags, just 
 bought at a fair ; price one dollar, to be paid on St. John s day 
 (in June), by which time he trusted to have mown beards enough 
 to put him in funds. 
 
 By the time the laconic clock of the castle had struck two we 
 had finished our dinner. So, taking leave of our Seville friends, 
 and leaving the millers still under the hands of the barber, we 
 set off on our ride across the campina. It was one of those 
 vast plains, common in Spain, where for miles and miles there 
 is neither house nor tree. Unlucky the traveller who has to 
 traverse it, exposed as we were to heavy and repeated showers 
 of rain. There is no escape nor shelter. Our only protection 
 was our Spanish cloaks, which nearly covered man and horse, 
 but grew heavier every mile. By the time we had lived through 
 one shower we would see another slowly but inevitably approach 
 ing ; fortunately in the interval there would be an outbreak of 
 bright, warm, Andalusjan sunshine, which would make our 
 cloaks send up wreaths of steam, but which partially dried 
 them before the next drenching. 
 
 Shortly after sunset we arrived at Arahal, a little town among 
 the hills. We found it in a bustle with a party of miquelets, 
 who were patrolling the country to ferret out robbers. The 
 
JOURNEY 11 
 
 appearance of foreigners like ourselves was an unusual circum 
 stance in an interior country town ; and little Spanish towns of 
 the kind are easily put in a state of gossip and wonderment by 
 such an occurrence. Mine host, with two or three old wiseacre 
 comrades in brown cloaks, studied our passports in a corner of 
 the posada, while an Alguazil took notes by the dim light of a 
 lamp. The passports were in foreign languages and perplexed 
 them, but our Squire Sancho assisted them in their studies, and 
 magnified our importance with the grandiloquence of a Spaniard. 
 In the meantime the magnificent distrTBtrtion of a few cigars 
 had won the hearts of all around us ; in a little while the whole 
 community seemed put in agitation to make us welcome. The 
 corregidor himself waited upon us, and a great rush-bottomed 
 arm-chair was ostentatiously bolstered into our room by our 
 landlady, for the "accommodation of that important personage. 
 The commander of the patrol took supper with us : a lively, 
 talking, laughing Andaluz, who had made a campaign in South 
 America, and recounted his exploits in love and war with much 
 pomp of phrase, vehemence of gesticulation, and mysterious 
 rolling of the eye. He told us that he had a list of all the 
 robbers in the country, and meant to ferret out every mother s 
 sou of them ; he offered us at the same time some of his soldiers 
 as an escort. " One is enough to protect you, senors ; the rob 
 bers know me, and know my men ; the sight of one is enough 
 to spread terror through a whole sierra." We thanked him for 
 his offer, but assured him, in his own strain, that with the pro 
 tection of our redoubtable squire, Sancho, we were not afraid of 
 all the ladrones of Andalusia. 
 
 *H While we were supping with our drawcansir friend, we 
 heard the notes of a guitar, and the click of. castanets, and 
 presently a chorus of voices singing a popular air. In fact, 
 mine host had gathered together the amateur singers and musi 
 cians, and the rustic belles of the neighborhood, and, on going 
 forth, the court-yard or patio of the inn presented a scene of 
 
12 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 true Spanish festivity. We took our seats with mine host and 
 hostess and the commander of the patrol, under an archway 
 opening into the court ; the guitar passed from hand to hand, 
 but a jovial shoemaker was the Orpheus of the place. He was 
 a pleasant looking fellow, with huge black whiskers ; his sleeves 
 were rolled up to his elbows. He touched the guitar with 
 masterly skill, and sang a little amorous ditty with an expres 
 sive leer at the women, with whom he was evidently a favorite. 
 He afterwards danced a fandango with a buxom Andalusian 
 damsel, to the great delight of the spectators. But none of the 
 females present could compare with mine host s pretty daughter, 
 Pepita, who had slipped away and made her toilette for the 
 occasion, and had covered her head with roses ; and who dis 
 tinguished herself in a bolero with a handsome young dragoon. 
 We ordered our host to let wine and refreshment circulate 
 freely among the company, yet, though there was a motley 
 assembly of soldiers, muleteers, and villagers, no one exceeded 
 the bounds of sober enjoyment. The scene was a study for a 
 painter : the picturesque group of dancers, the troopers in their 
 half military dresses, the peasantry wrapped in their brown 
 cloaks ; nor must I omit to mention the old meagre Alguazil, 
 in a short black cloak, who took no notice of anything going 
 on, but sat in a corner diligently writing by the dim light of 
 a huge copper lamp, that might have figured in the days of 
 Don Quixote. 
 
 The following morning was bright and balmy, as a May 
 morning ought to be, according to the poets. Leaving Arahal 
 at seven o clock, with all the posada at the door to cheer us off, 
 we pursued our way through a fertile country, covered with 
 grain and beautifully verdant ; but which in summer, when the 
 harvest is over and the fields parched and brown, must be 
 monotonous and lonely ; for, as in our ride of yesterday, there 
 were neither houses nor people to be seen. The latter all 
 congregate in villages and strongholds among the hills, as 
 
THE JOURNEY 13 
 
 if these fertile plains were still subject to the ravages of the 
 Moor. 
 
 At noon we came to where there was a group of trees, 
 beside a brook in a rich meadow. Here we alighted to make 
 our mid-day meal. It was really a luxurious spot, among wild 
 flowers and aromatic herbs, with birds singing around us. 
 Knowing the scanty larders of Spanish inns, and the houseless 
 tracts we might have to traverse, we had taken care to have 
 the alforjas of our squire well stocked with cold provisions, and 
 his bota, or leathern bottle, which might hold a gallon, filled to 
 the neck with choice Valdepenas wine. 2 As we depended more 
 upon these for our well-being than even his trabuco, we ex 
 horted him to be more attentive in keeping them well charged ; 
 and I must do him the justice to say that his namesake, the 
 trencher-loving Sancho Panza, was never a more pj oyid.eiLt 
 purveyor. Though the alforjas and the bota were frequently 
 and vigorously assailed throughout the journey, they had 
 a wonderful power of repletion, our vigilant squire sacking 
 everything that remained from our repasts at the inns, to 
 suppy these junketings by the road-side, which were his 
 delight. 
 
 On the present occasion he spread quite a sumptuous variety 
 of remnants on the greensward before us, graced with an excel 
 lent ham brought from Seville ; then, taking his seat at a little 
 distance, he solaced himself with what remained in the alforjas. 
 A visit or two to the bota made him as merry and chirruping 
 as a grasshopper filled with dew. On my comparing his con 
 tents of the alforjas to Sancho s skimming of the flesh-pots at 
 the wedding of Cammacho, I found he was well versed in the 
 history of Don Quixote, but, like many of the common people 
 of Spain, firmly believed it to be a true history. 
 
 "All that happened a long time ago, senor," said he, with 
 an inquiring look. 
 
 " A very long time," I replied. 
 
14 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 "I dare say more than a thousand years," still looking 
 dubiously. 
 
 " I dare say not less." 
 
 The squire was satisfied. Nothing pleased the simple-hearted 
 varlet more than my comparing him to the renowned Sancho 
 for devotion to the trencher ; arid he called himself by no other 
 name throughout the journey. 
 
 V Our repast being finished, we spread our cloaks on the green 
 sward under the tree, and took a luxurious siesta, in the Span 
 ish fashion. The clouding up of the weather, however, warned 
 us to depart, and a harsh wind sprang up from the southeast.. 
 Toward five o clock we arrived at Osuna, a town of fifteen thou 
 sand inhabitants, situated on the side of a hill, with a church 
 and a ruined castle. The posada was outside of the walls ; it had 
 a cheerless look. The evening being cold, the inhabitants were 
 crowded round a brasero in a chimney-corner ; and the hostess 
 was a dry old woman, who looked like a mummy. Every one 
 eyed us askance as we entered, as Spaniards are apt to regard 
 strangers ; a cheery, respectful salutation on our part, caballero- 
 ing them and touching our sombreros, set Spanish pride at ease ; 
 and when we took our seat among them, lit our cigars, and 
 passed the cigar box round among them, our victory was com 
 plete. I have never known a Spaniard, whatever his rank or 
 condition, who would suffer himself to be outdone in courtesy ; 
 and to the common Spaniard the present of a cigar (puro) is 
 irresistible. Care, however, must be taken never to offer him 
 a present with an air of superiority and condescension ; he is too 
 much of a caballero to receive favors at the cost of his dignity. 
 
 Leaving Osuna at an early hour the next morning, we entered 
 the sierra or range of mountains. The road wound through 
 picturesque scenery, but lonely ; and a cross here and there by 
 the roadside, the sign of a murder, showed that we were now 
 coming among the "robber haunts." This wild and intricate 
 country, with its silent plains and valleys intersected by rnoun- 
 
THE JOURNEY 15 
 
 tains, has ever been famous for banditti. It was here that 
 Omar Ibn Hassan, a robber-chief among the Moslems, held 
 ruthless sway in the ninth century, disputing dominion even 
 with the caliphs of Cordova. This too was a part of the re 
 gions so often ravaged during the reign of Ferdinand and Isa 
 bella by Ali Atar, the old Moorish alcayde of Loxa, father-in-law 
 of Boabdil, so that it was called Ali Atar s garden, and here 
 " Jose Maria," famous in Spanish brigand story, had his favorite 
 lurking-places. 
 
 In the course of the day we passed through Fuente la Piedra, 
 near a little salt lake of the same name, a beautiful sheet of 
 water, reflecting like a mirror the distant mountains. We now 
 came in sight of Antiquera, that old city of warlike reputation, 
 lying in the lap of the great sierra, which runs through Anda 
 lusia. A noble vega spread out before it, a picture of mild 
 fertility set in a frame of rocky mountains. Crossing a gentle 
 river we approached the city between hedges and gardens, in 
 which nightingales were pouring forth their evening song. 
 About nightfall we arrived at the gates. Everything in this 
 venerable city has a decidedly Spanish stamp. It lies too much 
 out of the frequented track of foreign travel to have its old 
 usages trampled out. Here I observed old men still wearing 
 the montero, or ancient bun ting-cap, once common throughout 
 Spain ; while the young men wore the little round-crowned hat, 
 with brim turned up all round, like a cup turned down in its 
 saucer ; while the brim was set off with little black tufts like 
 cockades. The women, too, were all in mantillas and basquinas. 
 The fashions of Paris had not reached Antiquera. 
 
 Pursuing our course through a spacious street, we put up at 
 the posada of San Fernando. As Antiquera, though a consider 
 able city, is, as I observed, somewhat out of the track of travel, 
 I had anticipated bad quarters and poor fare at the inn. I was 
 agreeably disappointed, therefore, by a supper-table amply sup 
 plied, and what were still more acceptable, good clean rooms and 
 
16 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 comfortable beds. Our man Sancho felt himself as well off as 
 his namesake when he had the run of the duke s kitchen, and 
 let me know, as I retired for the night, that it had been a proud 
 time for the alforjas. 
 
 Early in the morning (May 4th) I strolled to the ruins of the 
 old Moorish castle, which itself had been reared on the ruins of 
 a Roman fortress. Here, taking my seat on the remains of a 
 crumbling tower, I enjoyed a grand and varied landscape, beau 
 tiful in itself, and full of storied and romantic associations ; for 
 I was now in the very heart of the country famous for the chiv 
 alrous contests between Moor and Christian. Below me, in its 
 lap of hills, lay the old warrior city so often mentioned in chroni 
 cle and ballad. Out of yon gate and down yon hill paraded the 
 band of Spanish cavaliers, of highest rank and bravest bearing, 
 to make that foray during the war and conquest of Granada, 
 which ended in the lamentable massacre among the mountains 
 of Malaga, and laid all Andalusia in mourning. Beyond spread 
 out the vega, covered with gardens and orchards and fields of 
 grain and enamelled meadows, inferior only to the famous vega 
 of Granada. To the right the Rock of the Lovers stretched 
 like a cragged promontory into the plain, whence the daugh 
 ter of the Moorish alcayde and her lover, when closely pursued, 
 threw themselves in despair. 
 
 The matin peal from church and convent below me rang 
 sweetly in the morning air, as I descended. The market-place 
 was beginning to throng with the populace, who traffic in the 
 abundant produce of the vega ; for this is the mart of an agri 
 cultural region. In the market-place were abundance of freshly 
 plucked roses for sale ; for not a dame or damsel of Andalusia 
 thinks her gala dress complete without a rose shining like a 
 gem among her raven tresses. 
 
 On returning to the inn I found our man Sancho in high 
 gossip with the landlord and two or three of his hangers-on. 
 He had just been telling some marvellous story about Seville, 
 
THE JOURNEY 17 
 
 which mine host seemed piqued to match with one equally mar 
 vellous about Antiquera. There was once a fountain, he said, 
 in one of the public squares, called II fuente del toro (the foun 
 tain of the bull), because the water gushed from the mouth of 
 a bull s head, carved of stone. Underneath the head was in 
 scribed, 
 
 En frente del toro 
 
 Se hallen tesoro. 
 
 (In front of the bull there is treasure.) Many digged in front 
 of the fountain, but lost their labor and found no money. At 
 last one knowing fellow construed the motto a different way. 
 It is in the forehead (frente) of the bull that the treasure is to 
 be found, said he to himself, and I am the man to find it. 
 Accordingly he came, late at night, with a mallet, and knocked 
 the head to pieces ; and what do you think he found 1 
 
 " Plenty of gold and diamonds ! " cried Sancho, eagerly. 
 
 "He found nothing," rejoined mine host, dryly, "and he 
 ruined the fountain." 
 
 Here a great laugh was set up by the landlord s hangers-on ; 
 who considered Sancho completely taken in by what I presume 
 was one of mine host s standing jokes. 
 
 Leaving Antiquera at eight o clock, we had a delightful ride 
 along the little river, and by gardens and orchards fragrant with 
 the odors of spring and Vocal with the nightingale. Our road 
 passed round the Rock of the Lovers (el penon de los enamora- 
 dos\ which rose in a precipice above us. In the course of the 
 morning we passed through Archiclona, situated in the breast 
 of a high hill, with a three-pointed mountain towering above it, 
 and the ruins of a Moorish fortress. It was a great toil to 
 ascend a steep stony street leading up into the city, although it 
 bore the encouraging^name of Calle Real del Llano (the royal 
 street of the plain), but it was still a greater toil to descend 
 from this mountain city on the other side. 
 
 At noon we halted in sight of Archidona, in a pleasant little 
 o 
 
18 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 meadow among hills covered with olive-trees. Our cloaks were 
 spread on the grass, under an elm by the side of a bubbling 
 rivulet ; our horses were tethered where they might crop the 
 herbage, and Sancho was told to produce his alforjas. He had 
 been unusually silent this morning ever since the laugh raised at 
 his expense, but now his countenance brightened, and he pro 
 duced his alforjas with an air of triumph. They contained the 
 contribution of four days journeying, but had been signally en 
 riched by the foraging of the previous evening in the plenteous 
 inn at Antiquera ; and this seemed to furnish him with a set-off 
 to the banter of mine host. 
 
 En frente del toro 
 Se hallen tesoro 
 
 would he exclaim, with a chuckling laugh, as he drew forth the 
 heterogeneous contents one by one, in a series which seemed to 
 have no end. * First came forth a shoulder of roasted kid, very 
 little the worse for wear ; then an entire partridge ; then a great 
 morsel of salted codfish wrapped in paper ; then the residue of 
 a ham ; then the half of a pullet, together with several rolls of 
 bread, and a rabble rout of oranges, figs, raisins, and walnuts. 
 His bota also had been recruited with some excellent wine of 
 Malaga. At every fresh apparition from his larder, he would en 
 joy our ludicrous surprise, throwing himself back on the grass, 
 shouting with laughter, and exclaiming, "Frente del toro ! frente 
 del toro! Ah, seiiors, they thought Sancho a simpleton at 
 Antiquera; but Sancho knew where to find the tesoro." 
 
 While we were diverting ourselves with his simple drollery, 
 a solitary beggar approached, who had almost the look of a 
 pilgrim. He had a venerable gray beard, and was evidently 
 very old, supporting himself on a staff, yet age had not bowed 
 him down ; he was tall and erect, and had the wreck of a fine 
 form. He wore a round Andalusian hat, a sheepskin jacket, 
 and leathern breeches, gaiters, and sandals. His dress, though 
 
THE JOURNEY 19 
 
 old and patched, was decent, his demeanor manly, and he ad 
 dressed us with the grave courtesy that is to be remarked in 
 the lowest Spaniard. We were in a favorable mood for such a 
 visitor ; and in a freak of capricious charity gave him some 
 silver, a loaf of fine wheaten bread, and a goblet of our choice 
 wine of Malaga. He received them thankfully, but without 
 any grovelling tribute of gratitude. Tasting the wine, he held 
 it up to the light, with a slight beam of surprise in his eye ; 
 then quaffing it off at a draught, "It is many years," said he, 
 " since I have tasted such wine. It is a cordial to an old man s 
 heart." Then, looking at the beautiful wheaten loaf, " bendito 
 sea tal pan! " (blessed be such bread !) So saying, he put it 
 in his wallet. We urged him to eat it on the spot. "No, 
 seiiors," replied he, "the wine I had either to drink or leave; 
 but the bread I may take home to share with my family." 
 
 Our man Sancho sought our eye, and reading permission there, 
 gave the old man some of the ample fragments of our repast, on 
 condition, however, that he should sit down and make a meal. 
 
 He accordingly took his seat at some little distance from us, 
 and began to eat slowly, and with a sobriety and decorum that 
 would have become a hidalgo. There was altogether a meas 
 ured manner and a quiet self-possession about the old man, that 
 made me think that he had seen better days : his language, too, 
 though simple, had occasionally something picturesque and 
 almost poetical in the phraseology. I set him down for some 
 broken-down cavalier. I was mistaken; it was nothing but 
 the innate courtesy of a Spaniard, and the poetical turn of 
 thought and language often to be found in the lowest classes 
 of this clear-witted people. For fifty years, he told us, he had 
 been a shepherd, but now he was out of employ and destitute. 
 "When I was a young man," said he, "nothing could harm or 
 trouble me ; I was always well, always gay ; but now I am 
 seventy-nine years of age, and a beggar, and my heart begins to 
 fail me," 
 
20 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Still he was not a regular mendicant : it was not until 
 recently that want had driven him to this degradation ; and 
 he gave a touching picture of the struggle between hunger and 
 pride, when abject destitution first came upon him. He was 
 returning from Malaga without money ; he had not tasted food 
 for some time, and was crossing one of the great plains of Spain, 
 where there were but few habitations. When almost dead 
 witlj hunger, he applied at the door of a venta or country inn. 
 " Perdon usted por Dios hermano ! " (Excuse us, brother, for 
 God s sake !) was the reply the usual mode in Spain of refus 
 ing a beggar. "I turned away," said he, "with shame greater 
 than my hunger, for my heart was yet too proud. I came to a 
 river with high banks, and deep, rapid current, and felt tempted 
 to throw myself in : What should such an old, worthless, 
 wretched man as I live for? But when I was on the brink 
 of the current, I thought on the blessed Virgin, and turned 
 away. I travelled on until I saw a country-seat at a little dis 
 tance from the road, and entered the outer gate of the court 
 yard. The door was shut, but there were two young senoras 
 at a window. I approached and begged ; Perdon usted por 
 Dios hermano ! and the window closed. I crept out of 
 the courtyard, but hunger overcame me, and my heart gave 
 way : I thought my hour at hand, so I laid myself down at the 
 gate, commended myself to the Holy Virgin, and covered my 
 head to die. In a little while afterwards the master of the 
 house came home : seeing me lying at his gate, he uncovered 
 my head, had pity on my gray hairs, took me into his house, 
 and gave me food. So, senors, you see that one should always 
 put confidence in the protection of the Virgin." 
 
 The old man was on his way to his native place, Archidona, 
 which was in full view on its steep and rugged mountain. He 
 pointed to the ruins of its castle. " That castle," he said, 
 "was inhabited by a Moorish king at the time of the wars of 
 Granada. Queen Isabella invaded it with a great army ; but 
 
THE JOURNEY 21 
 
 the king looked down from his castle among the clouds, and 
 laughed her to scorn ! Upon this the Virgin appeared to the 
 queen, and guided her and her army up a mysterious path in 
 the mountains, which had never before been known. When 
 the Moor saw her coming, he was astonished, and springing 
 with his horse from a precipice, was dashed to pieces ! The 
 marks of his horse s hoofs," said the old man, " are to be seen 
 in the margin of the rock to this day. And see, senors, yonder 
 is the road by which the queen and her army mounted : you see 
 it like a ribbon up the mountain s side; but the miracle is, 
 that, though it can be seen at a distance, when you come near 
 it disappears ! " 
 
 The ideal road to which he pointed was undoubtedly a sandy 
 ravine of the mountain, which looked narrow and defined at a 
 distance, but became broad and indistinct on an approach. 
 
 As the old man s heart warmed with wine and wassail, he 
 went on to tell us a story of the buried treasure left under the 
 castle by the Moorish king. His own house was next to the 
 foundations of the castle. The curate and notary dreamed 
 three times of the treasure, and went to work at the place 
 pointed out in their dreams. His own son-in-law heard the 
 sound of their pickaxes and spades at night. What they found, 
 nobody knows ; they became suddenly rich, but kept their own 
 secret. Thus the old man had once been next door to fortune, 
 but was doomed never to get under the same roof. 
 
 I have remarked that the stories of treasure buried by the 
 Moors, so popular throughout Spain, are most current among 
 the poorest people. Kind nature consoles with shadows for 
 the lack of substantiate. The thirsty man dreams of fountains 
 and running streams ; the hungry man of banquets ; and the 
 poor man of heaps of hidden gold : nothing certainly is more 
 opulent than the imagination of a beggar. 
 
 Our afternoon s ride took us through a steep and rugged 
 defile of the mountains, called Puerte del Bey, the Pass of the 
 
22 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 King; being one of the great passes into the territories of 
 Granada, and the one by which King Ferdinand conducted his 
 army. Towards sunset the road, winding round a hill, brought 
 us in sight of the famous little frontier city of Loxa, which 
 repulsed Ferdinand from its walls. Its Arabic name implies 
 guardian, and such it was to the vega of Granada, being one 
 of its advanced guards. It was the stronghold of that fiery 
 veteran, old AH Atar, father-in-law of Boabdil; and here it 
 was that the latter collected his troops, and sallied forth on 
 that disastrous foray which ended in the death of the old al- 
 cayde and his own captivity. From its commanding position 
 at the gate, as it were, of this mountain-pass, Loxa has not 
 unaptly been termed the key of Granada. It is wildly pic 
 turesque ; built along the face of an arid mountain. The 
 ruins of a Moorish alcazar or citadel crown a rocky mound 
 which rises out of the centre of the town. The river Xenil 
 washes its base, winding among rocks, and groves, and gardens, 
 and meadows, and crossed by a Moorish bridge. Above the 
 city all is savage and sterile, below is the richest vegetation 
 and the freshest verdure. A similar contrast is presented by 
 the river : above the bridge it is placid and grassy, reflecting 
 groves and gardens; below it is rapid, noisy, and tumultuous. 
 The Sierra Nevada, the royal mountains of Granada, crowned 
 with perpetual snow, form the distant boundary to this varied 
 landscape, one of the most characteristic of romantic Spain. 
 
 Alighting at the entrance of the city, we gave our horses to 
 Sancho to lead them to the inn, while we strolled about to en 
 joy the singular beauty of the environs. As we crossed the 
 bridge to a fine alameda, or public walk, the bells tolled the 
 hour of orison. At the sound the wayfarers, whether on busi 
 ness or pleasure, paused, took off their hats, crossed themselves, 
 and repeated their evening prayer : a pious custom still rigidly 
 observed in retired parts of Spain. Altogether it was a solemn 
 and beautiful evening scene, and we wandered on as the even- 
 
THE JOURNEY 23 
 
 ing gradually closed, and the new moon began to glitter be 
 tween the high elms of the alameda. We were roused from 
 this quiet state of enjoyment by the voice of our trusty squire 
 hailing us from a distance. He came up to us, out of breath. 
 "Ah, senores," cried he, " el pobre Sancho no es nada sin Don 
 Quixote." (Ah, senors, poor Sancho is nothing without Don 
 Quixote.) He had been alarmed at our not coming to the 
 inn ; Loxa was such a wild mountain place, full of contraban- 
 distas, enchanters, and infiernos; he did not well know what 
 might have happened, and set out to seek- us, inquiring after 
 us of every person he met, until he traced us across the bridge, 
 and, to his great joy, caught sight of us strolling in the alameda. 
 
 The inn to which he conducted us was called the Corona, 
 or Crown, and we found it quite in keeping with the character 
 of the place, the inhabitants of which seem still to retain the 
 bold, fiery spirit of the olden time. The hostess was a young 
 and handsome Andalusian widow, whose trim basquina of black 
 silk, fringed with bugles, set off the play of a graceful form and 
 round pliant limbs. Her step w r as firm and elastic ; her dark 
 eye was full of fire ; and the coquetry of her air, and varied 
 ornaments of her person, showed that she was accustomed to be 
 admired. 
 
 She was well matched by a brother, nearly about her own 
 age; they were perfect models of the Andalusian Majo and 
 Maja. He was tall, vigorous, and well-formed, with a clear 
 olive complexion, a dark beaming eye, and curling chestnut 
 whiskers that met under his chin. He was gallantly dressed 
 in a short green velvet jacket, fitted to his shape, pro 
 fusely decorated with silver buttons, with a white handkerchief 
 in each pocket. He had breeches of the same, with rows of 
 buttons from the hips to the knees ; a pink silk handkerchief 
 round his neck, gathered through a ring, on the bosom of a 
 neatly plaited shirt ; a sash round the waist to match ; bottinas, 
 or spatterdashes, of the finest russet leather, elegantly worked, 
 
24 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 and open at the calf to show his stocking ; and russet shoes, 
 setting off a wellrshaped foot. 
 
 As he was standing at the door, a horseman rode up and 
 entered into low and earnest conversation with him. He was 
 dressed in a similar style, and almost with equal finery ; a man 
 about thirty, square-built, with strong Roman features, hand 
 some, though slightly pitted with the small-pox; with a free, 
 bold, and somewhat daring air. His powerful black horse was 
 decorated with tassels and fanciful trappings, and a couple 
 of broad-mouthed blunderbusses hung behind the saddle. He 
 had the air of one of those *contrabandistas I have seen in the 
 mountains of Ronda, and evidently had a good understanding 
 with the brother of mine hostess ; nay, if I mistake not, he was 
 a favored admirer of the widow. In fact, the whole inn and its 
 inmates had something of a contrabandista aspect, and a blun 
 derbuss stood in a corner beside the guitar. The horseman 
 I have mentioned passed his evening in the posada, and sang 
 several bold mountain romances with great spirit. As we were 
 at supper, two poor Asturians put in, in distress, begging food 
 and a night s lodging. They had been waylaid by robbers as 
 they came from a fair among the mountains, robbed of a horse 
 which carried all their stock in trade, stripped of their money, 
 and most of their apparel, beaten for having offered resistance, 
 and left almost naked in the road. My companion, with a 
 prompt generosity natural to him, ordered them a supper and 
 a bed, and gave them a sum of money to help them forward 
 towards their home. 
 
 As the evening advanced, the dramatis personce thickened. 
 A large man, about sixty years of age, of powerful frame, came 
 strolling in, to gossip with mine hostess. He was dressed in 
 the ordinary Andalusian costume, but had a huge sabre tucked 
 under his arm; wore large mustaches, and had something 
 of a lofty swaggering air. Every one seemed to regard him 
 with great deference. 
 
THE JOURNEY 25 
 
 Our man Sancho whispered to us that he was Don Ventura 
 Rodriguez, the hero and champion of Loxa, famous for his prow 
 ess and the strength of his arm. In the time of the French 
 invasion he surprised six troopers who were asleep; he first 
 secured their horses, then attacked them with his sabre, killed 
 some, and took the rest prisoners. For this exploit the king 
 allows him a peseta (the fifth of a duro, or dollar) per day, and 
 has dignified him with the title of Don. 
 
 I was amused to behold his swelling language and demeanor. 
 He was evidently a thorough Andalusian, boastful as brave. 
 His sabre was always in his hand or under his arm. He 
 carries it always about with him as a child does its doll, calls it 
 his Santa Teresa, and says, "When I draw it, the earth 
 trembles " (tiembla la tierra). 
 
 I sat until a late hour listening to the varied themes of this 
 motley group, who mingled together with the unreserve of a 
 Spanish posada. We had contrabandista songs, stories of 
 robbers, guerrilla exploits, and Moorish legends. The last were 
 from our handsome landlady, who gave a poetical account of the 
 Infiernos, or infernal regions of Loxa, dark caverns, in which 
 subterranean streams and waterfalls make a mysterious sound. 
 The common people say that there are money-coiners shut up 
 there from the time of the Moors ; and that the Moorish kings 
 kept their treasures in those caverns. 
 
 I retired to bed with my imagination excited by all that 
 I had seen and heard in this old warrior city. Scarce had I 
 fallen asleep when I was aroused by a horrid din and uproar, 
 that might have confounded the hero of La Mancha himself, 
 whose experience of Spanish inns was a continual uproar. It 
 seemed for a moment as if the Moors were once more breaking 
 into the town ; or the infiernos of which mine hostess talked had 
 broken loose. I sallied forth, half dressed, to reconnoitre. It 
 was nothing more nor less than a charivari to celebrate the 
 nuptials of an old man with a buxom damsel. Wishing him 
 
26 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 joy of his bride and his serenade, I returned to my more quiet 
 bed, and slept soundly until morning. 
 
 While dressing, I amused myself in reconnoitring the populace 
 from my window. There were groups of fine-looking young 
 men in the trim, fanciful Andalusian costume, with brown 
 cloaks, thrown about them in true Spanish style, which cannot 
 be imitated, and little round majo hats stuck on with a peculiar 
 knowing air. They had the same galliard look which I have 
 remarked among the dandy mountaineers of Eonda. Indeed, 
 all this part of Andalusia abounds with such game-looking 
 characters. They loiter about the towns and villages ; seem to 
 have plenty of time and plenty of money ; " horse to ride and 
 weapon to wear." Great gossips, great smokers, apt at touch 
 ing the guitar, singing couplets to their maja belles, and famous 
 dancers of the bolero. Throughout all Spain the men, however 
 poor, have a gentlemanlike abundance of leisure; seeming to 
 consider it the attribute of a true cavaliero never to be in a 
 hurry ; but the Andalusians are gay as well as leisurely, and 
 have none of the squalid accompaniments of idleness. The ad 
 venturous contraband trade which prevails throughout these 
 mountain regions, and along the maritime borders of Andalusia, 
 is doubtless at the bottom of this galliard character. 
 
 In contrast to the costume of these groups was that of two 
 long-legged Valencians conducting a donkey, laden with articles 
 of merchandise ; their musket slung crosswise over his back, 
 ready for action. They wore round jackets (jalecos), wide linen 
 bragas or drawers scarce reaching to the knees and looking like 
 kilts, red fajas or sashes swathed tightly round their waists, 
 sandals of espartal or bass weed, colored kerchiefs round their 
 heads somewhat in the style of turbans, but leaving the top of 
 the head uncovered ; in short, their whole appearance having 
 much of the traditional Moorish stamp. 
 
 On leaving Loxa we were joined by a cavalier, well mounted 
 and well armed, and followed on foot by an escopetero or mus- 
 
THE JOURNEY 27 
 
 keteer. He saluted us courteously, and soon let us into his 
 quality. He was chief of the customs, or rather, I should sup 
 pose, chief of an armed company whose business it is to patrol 
 the roads and look out for contrabandistas. The escopetero 
 was one of his guards. In the course of our morning s ride I 
 drew from him some particulars concerning the smugglers, who 
 have risen to be a kind of mongrel chivalry in Spain. They 
 come into Andalusia, he said, from various parts, but especially 
 from La Mancha; sometimes to receive goods, to be smuggled 
 on an appointed night across the line at the plaza or strand of 
 Gibraltar ; sometimes to meet a vessel,, which is to hover on a 
 given night off a certain part of the coast. They keep together 
 and travel in the night. In the daytime they lie quiet in 
 barrancos, gullies of the mountains, or lonely farm-houses ; 
 where they are generally well received, as they make the family 
 liberal presents of their smuggled wares. Indeed, much of the 
 finery and trinkets worn by the wives and daughters of the 
 mountain hamlets and farm-houses are presents from the gay 
 and open-handed contrabandistas. 
 
 Arrived at the part of the coast where a vessel is to meet 
 them, they look out at night from some rocky point or head 
 land. If they descry a sail near the shore they make a con 
 certed signal; sometimes it consists in suddenly displaying a 
 lantern three times from beneath the folds of the cloak. If the 
 signal is answered, they descend to the shore and prepare for 
 quick work. The vessel runs close in ; all her boats are busy 
 landing the smuggled goods, made up into snug packages for 
 transportation on horseback. These are hastily thrown on the 
 beach, as hastily gathered up and packed on the horses, and 
 then the contrabandistas clatter off to the mountains. They 
 travel by the roughest, wildest, and most solitary roads, where 
 it is almost fruitless to pursue them. The custom-house guards 
 do not attempt it : they take a different course. When they 
 hear of one of these bands returning full freighted through the 
 
28 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 mountains, they go out in force, sometimes twelve infantry and 
 eight horsemen, and take their station where the mountain de 
 file opens into the plain. The infantry, who lie in ambush 
 some distance within the defile, suffer the band to pass, then 
 rise and fire upon them. The contrabandistas dash forward, 
 but are met in front by the horsemen. A wild skirmish en 
 sues. The contrabandistas, if hard pressed, become desperate. 
 Some dismount, use their horses as breastworks, and fire over 
 their backs ; others cut the cords, let the packs fall off to delay 
 the enemy, and endeavor to escape with their steeds. Some get 
 off in this way with the loss of their package ; some are taken, 
 horses, packages, and all; others abandon everything, and make 
 their escape by scrambling up the mountains. " And then," cried 
 Sancho, who had been listening with a greedy ear, " se hacen la- 
 drones legitimos" and then they become legitimate robbers. 
 
 I could not help laughing at Sancho s idea of a legitimate 
 calling of the kind ; but the chief of customs told me it was 
 really the case that the smugglers, when thus reduced to ex 
 tremity, thought they had a kind of right to take the road, and 
 lay travellers under contribution, until they had collected funds 
 enough to mount and equip themselves in contrabandista style. 
 
 Towards noon our wayfaring companion took leave of us and 
 turned up a steep defile, followed by his escopetero ; and shortly 
 afterwards we emerged from the mountains, and entered upon 
 the far-famed Vega of Granada. 
 
 Our last mid-day s repast was taken under a grove of olive- 
 trees on the border of. a rivulet. We were in a classical neigh 
 borhood ; for not far off were the groves and orchards of the 
 Soto de Roma. This, according to fabulous tradition, was a re 
 treat founded by Count Julian to console his daughter Florinda. 
 It was a rural resort of the Moorish kings of Granada ; and has 
 in modern times been granted to the Duke of Wellington. 
 
 Our worthy squire made a half melancholy face as he drew 
 forth, for the last time, the contents of his alforjas, lamenting 
 
THE JOURNEY 29 
 
 that our expedition was drawing to a close, for, with such cava 
 liers, he said, he could travel to the world s end. Our repast, 
 however, was a gay one ; made under such delightful auspices. 
 The day was without a cloud. The heat of the sun was tem 
 pered by cool breezes from the mountains. Before us extended 
 the glorious Vega. In the distance was romantic Granada sur 
 mounted by the ruddy towers of the Alhambra, while far above 
 it the snowy summits of the Sierra Nevada shone like silver. 
 
 Our repast finished, we spread our cloaks and took our last 
 siesta al fresco, lulled by the humming of bees among the flowers 
 and the notes of doves among the olive-trees. When the sultry 
 hours were passed we resumed our journey. After a time we 
 overtook a pursy little man, shaped not unlike a toad and 
 mounted on a mule. He fell into conversation with Sancho, 
 and finding we were strangers, undertook to guide us to a good 
 posada. He was an escribano (notary), he said, and knew the 
 city as thoroughly as his own pocket. "Ah Dios, Senores ! what 
 a city you are going to see. Such streets ! such squares ! such 
 palaces ! and then the women ah Santa Maria purisima 
 what women !" "But the posada you talk of," said I, "are 
 you sure it is a good one ? " 
 
 " Good ! Santa Maria ! the best in Granada. Salones grandes 
 camas de luxo colchones de pluma (grand saloons luxu 
 rious sleeping-rooms beds of down). Ah, senores, you will 
 fare like King Chico in the Alhambra." 
 
 " And how will my horses fare 1 " cried Sancho. 
 
 "Like King Chico s horses. Chocolate con leche y bollos 
 para almuerza " (chocolate and milk with sugar cakes for break 
 fast), giving the squire a knowing wink and a leer. 
 
 After such satisfactory accounts, nothing more was to be de 
 sired on that head. So we rode quietly on, the squab little 
 notary taking the lead, and turning to us every moment with 
 some fresh exclamation about the grandeurs of Granada and 
 the famous times we were to have at the posada. 
 
30 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Thus escorted, we passed between hedges of aloes and Indian 
 figs, and through that wilderness of gardens with which the 
 vega is embroidered, and arrived about sunset at the gates of 
 the city. Our officious little conductor conveyed us up one 
 street and down another, until he rode into the court- yard of an 
 inn where he appeared to be perfectly at home. Summoning 
 the landlord by his Christian name, he committed us to his care 
 as two cavalleros de mucho valor, worthy of his best apartments 
 and most sumptuous fare. We were instantly reminded of the 
 patronizing stranger who introduced Gil Bias with such a flour 
 ish of trumpets to the host and hostess of the inn at Pennaflor, 
 ordering trouts for his supper, and eating voraciously at his ex 
 pense. "You know not what you possess," cried he to the inn 
 keeper and his wife. " You have a treasure in your house. 
 Behold in this young gentleman the eighth wonder of the 
 world nothing in this house is too good for Sen or Gil 
 Bias of Santillane, who deserves to be entertained like a 
 prince." 
 
 Determined that the little notary should not eat trouts at 
 our expense, like his prototype of Pennaflor, we forbore to ask 
 him to supper ; nor had we reason to reproach ourselves with 
 ingratitude, for we found before morning the little variety who 
 was no doubt a good friend of the landlord, had decoyed us into 
 one of the shabbiest posadas in Granada. 
 
 1 Note to the Revised Edition. The Author feels at liberty to 
 mention that his travelling companion was the Prince Dolgorouki, 
 at present Russian minister at the Court of Persia. 
 
 2 It may be as well to note here, that the alforjas are square 
 pockets at each end of a long cloth about a foot and a half wide, 
 formed by turning up its extremities. The cloth is then thrown 
 over the saddle, and the pockets hang on each side like saddle 
 bags. It is an Arab invention. The bota is a leathern bag or 
 bottle, of portly dimensions, with a narrow neck. It is also 
 Oriental. Hence the scriptural caution which perplexed me in my 
 boyhood, not to put new wine into old bottles. 
 
PALACE OF THE ALHAMBRA 31 
 
 PALACE OF THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and 
 poetical, so inseparably intertwined in the annals of romantic 
 Spain, the Alhambra is as much an object of devotion as is the 
 Caaba to all true Moslems. How many legends and traditions, 
 true and fabulous, how many songs and ballads, Arabian and 
 Spanish, of love and war and chivalry, are associated with this 
 Oriental pile ! It was the royal abode of the Moorish kings, 
 where, surrounded with the splendors and refinements of Asiatic 
 luxury, they held dominion over what they vaunted as a terres 
 trial paradise, and made their last stand for empire in Spain. 
 The royal palace forms but a part of a fortress, the walls of 
 which, studded with towers, stretch irregularly round the whole 
 crest of a hill, a spur of the Sierra Nevada or Snowy Moun 
 tains, and overlook the city ; externally it is a rude congregation 
 of towers and battlements, with no regularity of plan nor grace 
 of architecture, and giving little promise of the grace and beauty 
 which prevail within. 
 
 In the time of the Moors the fortress was capable of contain 
 ing within its outward precincts an army of forty thousand men, 
 and served occasionally as- a strong-hold of the sovereigns against 
 their rebellious subjects. After the kingdom had passed into 
 the hands of the Christians, the Alhambra continued to be a 
 royal demesne, and was occasionally inhabited by the Castilian 
 monarchs. The emperor Charles V. commenced a sumptuous 
 palace within its walls, but was deterred from completing it by 
 repeated shocks of earthquakes. The last royal residents were 
 Philip V. and his beautiful queen, Elizabetta of Parma, early in 
 the eighteenth century. Great preparations were made for .their 
 reception. The palace and gardens were placed in a state of 
 repair, and a new suite of apartments erected, and decorated by 
 artists brought from Italy. The sojourn of the sovereigns was 
 
32 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 transient, and after their departure the palace once more became 
 desolate. Still the place was maintained with some military 
 state. The governor held it immediately from the crown, its 
 jurisdiction extended down into the suburbs of the city, and was 
 independent of the captain-general of Granada. A considerable 
 garrison was kept up ; the governor had his apartments in the 
 front of the old Moorish palace, and never descended into Gran 
 ada without some military parade. The fortress, in fact, was a 
 little town of itself, having several streets of houses within its 
 walls, together with a Franciscan convent and a parochial church. 
 The desertion of the court, however, was a fatal blow to the 
 Alhambra. Its beautiful halls became desolate and some of them 
 fell to ruin; the gardens were destroyed, and the fountains 
 ceased to play. By degrees the dwellings became filled with a 
 loose and lawless population : contrabandistas, who availed 
 themselves of its independent jurisdiction to carry on a wide 
 and daring course of smuggling, and thieves and rogues of all 
 sorts, who made this their place of refuge whence they might 
 depredate upon Granada and its vicinity. The strong arm of 
 government at length interfered ; the whole community was 
 thoroughly sifted ; none were suffered to remain but such as 
 were of honest character, and had legitimate right to a resi 
 dence ; the greater part of the houses were demolished and a 
 mere hamlet left, with the parochial church and the Franciscan 
 convent. During the recent troubles in Spain, when Granada 
 was in the hands of the French, the Alhambra was garrisoned 
 by their troops, and the palace was occasionally inhabited by 
 the French commander. With that enlightened taste which 
 has ever distinguished the French nation in their conquests, 
 this monument of Moorish elegance and grandeur was rescued 
 from, the absolute ruin and desolation that were overwhelming 
 it. The roofs were repaired, the saloons and galleries protected 
 from the weather, the gardens cultivated, the watercourses re 
 stored, the fountains once more made to throw up their spark- 
 
REPAIRS OF THE PALACE 33 
 
 ling showers; and Spain may thank her invaders for having 
 preserved to her the most beautiful and interesting of her 
 historical monuments. 
 
 On the departure of the French they blew up several towers 
 of the outer wall, and left the fortifications scarcely tenable. 
 Since that time the military importance of the post is at an 
 end. The garrison is a handful of invalid soldiers, whose 
 principal duty is to guard some of the outer towers, which 
 serve occasionally as a prison of state ; and the governor, 
 abandoning the lofty hill of the Alhambra, resides in the centre 
 of Granada, for the more convenient dispatch of his official 
 duties. I cannot conclude this brief notice of the state of the 
 fortress without bearing testimony to the honorable exertions 
 of its present commander, Don Francisco de Serna, who is 
 tasking all the limited resources at his command to put the 
 palace in a state of repair, and by his judicious precautions 
 has for some time arrested its too certain decay. Had his 
 predecessors discharged the duties of their station with equal 
 fidelity, the Alhambra might yet have remained in almost its 
 pristine beauty : were government to second him with means 
 equal to his zeal, this relic of it might still be preserved for 
 many generations to adorn the land, and attract the curious 
 and enlightened of every clime. 
 
 Our first object of course, on the morning after our arrival, 
 was a visit to this time-honored edifice ; it has been so often, 
 however, and so minutely described by travellers, that I shall 
 not undertake to give a comprehensive and elaborate account 
 of it, but merely occasional sketches of parts, with the inci 
 dents and associations connected with them. 
 
 Leaving our posada, and traversing the renowned square of 
 the Vivarrambla, once the scene of Moorish jousts and tourna 
 ments, now a crowded market-place, we proceeded along the 
 Zacatin, the main street of what, in the time of the Moors 
 was the Great Bazaar, and where small shops and narrow 
 
34 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 alleys still retain the Oriental character. Crossing an open 
 place in front of the palace of the captain-general, we ascended 
 a confined and winding street, the name of which reminded us 
 of the chivalric days of Granada. It is called the Calle, or 
 street, of the Gomeres, from a Moorish family famous in chron 
 icle and song. This street led up to the Puerta de las Grana- 
 das, a massive gateway of Grecian architecture, built by 
 Charles V., forming the entrance to the domains of the Al- 
 hambra. 
 
 At the gate were two or three ragged superannuated sol 
 diers, dozing on a stone bench, the successors of the Zegris and 
 the Abencerrages ; while a tall, meagre varlet, whose rusty- 
 brown cloak was evidently intended to conceal the ragged 
 state of his nether garment, was lounging in the sunshine and 
 gossiping with an ancient sentinel on duty. He joined us as 
 we entered the gate, and offered his services to show us the 
 fortress. 
 
 I have a traveller s dislike to officious ciceroni, and did not 
 altogether like the garb of the applicant. 
 
 " You are well acquainted with the place, I presume ? " 
 
 " Ninguno, mas ; pues> senor, soy hijo de la Alhambra" 
 (Nobody better ; in fact, sir, I am. a son of the Alhambra !) 
 
 The common Spaniards have certainly a most poetical way 
 of expressing themselves. "A son of the Alhambra!" the 
 appellation caught me at once ; the very tattered garb of my 
 new acquaintance assumed a dignity in my eyes. It was em 
 blematic of the fortunes of the place, and befitted the progeny 
 of a ruin. 
 
 I put some further questions to him, and found that his 
 title was legitimate. His family had lived in the fortress 
 from generation to generation ever since the time of the Con 
 quest. His name was Mateo Ximenes. "Then, perhaps," 
 said I, "you may be a descendant from the great Cardinal 
 Ximenes 1 " " Dios sabe ! God knows, Senor ! It may be 
 
MOORISH TALISMANS 35 
 
 so. We are the oldest family in the Alhambra, Christianas 
 Viejos, Old Christians, without any taint of Moor or Jew. I 
 know we belong to some great family or other, but I forget 
 whom. My father knows all about it : he has the coat of 
 arms hanging up in his cottage, up in the fortress." There 
 is not any Spaniard, however poor, but has some claim to high 
 pedigree. The first title of this ragged worthy, however, had 
 completely captivated me; so I gladly accepted the services of 
 the "son of the Alhambra." 
 
 We now found ourselves in a deep narrow ravine, filled with 
 beautiful groves, with a steep avenue, and various footpaths 
 winding through it, bordered with stone seats, and ornamented 
 with fountains. To our left we beheld the towers of the Al 
 hambra beetling above us ; to our right, on the opposite side 
 of the ravine, we were equally dominated by rival towers on a 
 rocky eminence. These, we were told, were the Torres Verme- 
 jos, or vermilion towers, so called from their ruddy hue. No 
 one knows their origin. They are of a date much anterior to 
 the Alhambra : some suppose them to have been built by the 
 Romans ; others, by some wandering colony of Phoenicians. 
 Ascending the steep and shady avenue, we arrived at the foot 
 of a huge square Moorish tower, forming a kind of barbican, 
 through which passed the main entrance to the fortress. 
 Within the barbican was another group of veteran invalids, 
 ,one mounting guard at the portal, while the rest, wrapped in 
 their tattered cloaks, slept on the stone benches. This portal 
 is called the Gate of Justice, from the tribunal held within its 
 porch during the Moslem domination, for the immediate trial 
 of petty causes : a custom common to the Oriental nations, 
 and occasionally alluded to in the Sacred Scriptures. "Judges 
 arid officers shalt thou make thee in all thy gates, and they 
 shall judge the people with just judgment." 
 
 The great vestibule, or porch of the gate, is formed by an 
 immense Arabian arch, of the horseshoe form, which springs 
 
36 THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 to half the height of the tower. On the keystone of this 
 arch is engraven a gigantic hand. Within the vestibule, on 
 the keystone of the portal, is sculptured, in like manner, a 
 gigantic key. Those who pretend to some knowledge of 
 Mohammedan symbols, affirm that the hand is the emblem of 
 doctrine ; the five fingers designating the five principal com 
 mandments of the creed of Islam, fasting, pilgrimage, alms 
 giving, ablution, and war against infidels. The key, say they, 
 is the emblem of the faith or of power ; the key of Daoud, or 
 David, transmitted to the prophet. " And the key of the 
 house of David will I lay upon his shoulder ; so he shall open 
 and none shall shut, and he shall shut and none shall open." 
 (Isaiah xxii. 22). The key we are told was emblazoned on 
 the standard of the Moslems in opposition to the Christian 
 emblem of the cross, when they subdued Spain or Andalusia. 
 It betokened the conquering power invested in the prophet. 
 " He that hath the key of David, he that openeth and no 
 man shutteth ; and shutteth and no man openeth." (Rev. 
 iii. 7.) 
 
 A different explanation of these emblems, however, was 
 given by the legitimate son of the Alhambra, and one more 
 in unison with the notions of the common people, who attach 
 something of mystery and magic to everything Moorish, and 
 have all kinds of superstitions connected with this old Moslem 
 fortress. According to Mateo, it was a tradition handed down 
 from the oldest inhabitants, and which he had from his father 
 and grandfather, that the hand and key were magical devices 
 on which the fate of the Alhambra depended. The Moorish 
 king who built it was a great magician, or, as some believed, 
 had sold himself to the devil, and had laid the whole fortress 
 under a magic spell. By this means it had remained standing 
 for several years, in defiance of storms and earthquakes, while 
 almost all other buildings of the Moors had fallen to ruin and 
 disappeared. This spell, the tradition went on to say, would 
 
MOORISH TALISMANS 37 
 
 last until the hand on the outer arch should reach down and 
 grasp the key, when the whole pile would tumble to pieces, and 
 all the treasures buried beneath it by the Moors would be 
 revealed. 
 
 Notwithstanding this onunaus prediction, we ventured to 
 pass through the spell-bound gateway, feeling some little as 
 surance against magic art in the protection of the Virgin, a 
 statue of whom we observed above the portal. 
 
 After passing through the barbican, we ascended a narrow 
 lane, winding between walls, and came on an open esplanade 
 within the fortress, called the Plaza de los Algibes, or Place 
 of the Cisterns, from great reservoirs which undermine it, cut 
 in the living rock by the Moors to receive the water brought by 
 conduits from the Darrow, for the supply of the fortress. Here, 
 also, is a well of immense depth, furnishing the purest and 
 coldest of water, another monument of the delicate taste of 
 the Moors, who were indefatigable in their exertions to obtain 
 that element in its crystal purity. 
 
 In front of this esplanade is the splendid pile commenced by 
 Charles V., and intended, it is said, to eclipse the residence of 
 the Moorish kings. Much of the Oriental edifice intended for 
 the winter season was demolished to make way for this massive 
 pile. The grand entrance was blocked up ; so that the present 
 entrance to the Moorish palace is through a simple and almost 
 humble portal in a corner. With all the massive grandeur and 
 architectural merit of the palace of Charles V., we regarded it 
 as an arrogant intruder, and passing by it with a feeling almost 
 of scorn, rang at the Moslem portal. 
 
 While waiting for admittance, our self-imposed cicerone, 
 Mateo Ximenes, informed us that the royal palace was intrusted 
 to the care of a worthy old maiden dame called Dona Antonia- 
 Molina, but who, according to Spanish custom, went by the 
 more neighborly appellation of Tia Antonia (Aunt Antonia), who 
 maintained the Moorish halls and gardens in order and showed 
 
38 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 them to strangers. While we were talking, the door was opened 
 by a plump little black eyed Andalusian damsel, whom Mateo 
 addressed as Dolores, but who from her bright looks and cheerful 
 disposition evidently merited a merrier name. Mateo informed 
 me in a whisper that she was the niece of Tia Antonia, and 
 I found she was the good fairy who was to conduct us 
 through the enchanted palace. Under her guidance we crossed 
 the threshold, and were at once transported, as if by magic 
 wand, into other times and an oriental realm, and were tread 
 ing the scenes of Arabian story. Nothing could be in greater 
 contrast than the unpromising exterior of the pile with the 
 scene now before us. We found ourselves in a vast patio or 
 court, one hundred and fifty feet in length, and upwards of 
 eighty feet in breadth, paved with white marble, and decorated 
 at each end with light Moorish peristyles, one of which sup 
 ported an elegant gallery of fretted architecture. Along the 
 mouldings of the cornices and on various parts of the walls were 
 escutcheons and ciphers, and Cufic and Arabic characters in high 
 relief, repeating the pious mottoes of the Moslem monarchs, the 
 builders of the Alhambra, or extolling their grandeur and muni 
 ficence. Along the centre of the court extended an immense 
 basin or tank (estanque), a hundred and twenty-four feet in 
 length, twenty-seven in breadth, and five in depth, receiving its 
 water from two marble vases. Hence it is called the Court of 
 the Alberc a (from al Beerkah, the Arabic for a pond or tank). 
 Great numbers of gold-fish were to be seen gleaming through 
 the waters of the basin, and it was bordered by hedges of roses. 
 Passing from the Court of the Alberca under a Moorish 
 archway, we entered the renowned Court of Lions. No part 
 of the edifice gives a more complete idea of its original beauty 
 than this, for none has suffered so little from the ravages of 
 time. In the centre stands the fountain famous in song and 
 story. The alabaster basins still shed their diamond drops ; 
 the twelve lions which support them, and give the court its 
 
INTERIOR OF THE PALACE 39 
 
 name, still cast forth crystal streams as in the days of Boabdil. 
 The lions, however, are unworthy of their fame, being of misera 
 ble sculpture, the work probably of some Christian captive. 
 The court is laid out in flower-beds, instead of its ancient and 
 appropriate pavement of tiles or marble ; the alteration, an 
 instance of bad taste, was made by the French when in posses 
 sion of Granada. Bound the four sides of the court are light 
 Arabian arcades of open filigree work, supported by slender 
 pillars of white marble, which it is supposed were originally 
 gilded. The architecture, like that in most parts of the interior 
 of the palace, is characterized by elegance rather than grandeur, 
 bespeaking a delicate and graceful taste, and a disposition to 
 indolent enjoyment. When one looks upon the fairy traces of 
 the peristyles, and the apparently fragile fretwork of the walls, 
 it is difficult to believe that so much has survived the wear and 
 tear of centuries, the shocks of earthquakes, the violence of 
 war, and the quiet, though no less baneful, pilferings of the 
 tasteful traveller : it is almost sufficient to excuse the popular 
 tradition, that the whole is protected by a magic charm. 
 
 On one side of the" court a rich portal opens into the Hall of 
 the Abencerrages : so called from the gallant cavaliers of that 
 illustrious line who were here perfidiously massacred. There 
 are some who doubt the whole story, but our humble cicerone 
 Mateo pointed out the very wicket of the portal through which 
 they were introduced one by one into the Court of Lions, and 
 the white marble fountain in the centre of the hall beside which 
 they were beheaded. He showed us also certain broad ruddy 
 stains on the pavement, traces of their blood, which, according 
 to popular belief, can never be effaced. 
 
 Finding we listened to him apparently with easy faith, he 
 added, that there was often heard at night, in the Court of Lions, 
 a low confused sound, resembling the murmuring of a multi 
 tude, and now and then a faint tinkling, like the distant clank 
 of chains. These sounds were made by the spirits of the mur- 
 
40 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 dered Abencerrages ; who nightly haunt the scene of their suf 
 fering and invoke the vengeance of Heaven on their destroyer. 
 
 The sounds in question had no doubt been produced, as I had 
 afterwards an opportunity of ascertaining, by the bubbling cur 
 rents and tinkling falls of water conducted under the pavement 
 through pipes and channels to supply the fountains ; but I was 
 too considerate to intimate such an idea to the humble chroni 
 cler of the Alhambra. 
 
 Encouraged by my easy credulity, Mateo gave me the follow 
 ing as an undoubted fact, which he had from his grandfather: 
 
 There was once an invalid soldier, who had charge of the 
 Alhambra to show it to strangers; as he was one evening, 
 about twilight, passing through the court of the Lions, he heard 
 footsteps on the Hall of the Abencerrages; supposing some 
 strangers to be lingering there, he advanced to attend upon 
 them, when, to his astonishment, he beheld four Moors richly 
 dressed, with gilded cuirasses and cimeters, and poniards glit 
 tering with precious stones. They were walking to and fro, 
 with solemn pace ; but paused and beckoned to him. The old 
 soldier, however, took to flight, and could never afterwards be 
 prevailed upon to enter the Alhambra. Thus it is that men 
 sometimes turn their backs upon fortune; for it is the firm 
 opinion of Mateo, that the Moors intended to reveal the place 
 where their treasures lay buried. A successor to the invalid 
 soldier was more knowing ; he came to the Alhambra poor ; but 
 at the end of a year went off to Malaga, bought houses, set up 
 a carriage, and still lives there, one of the richest as well as 
 oldest men of the place ; all which, Mateo sagely surmised, was 
 in consequence of his finding out the golden secret of these 
 phantom Moors. 
 
 I now perceived I had made an invaluable acquaintance in 
 this son of the Alhambra, one who knew all the apocryphal 
 history of the place, and firmly believed in it, and whose memory 
 was stuffed with a kind of knowledge for which I have a lurking 
 
HALL OF THE TWO SISTERS 41 
 
 fancy, but which is too apt to be considered rubbish by less in 
 dulgent philosophers. I determined to cultivate the acquaint 
 ance of this learned Theban. 
 
 Immediately opposite the Hall of the Abencerrages, a portal, 
 richly adorned, leads into a hall of less tragical associations. It 
 is light and lofty, exquisitely graceful in its architecture, paved 
 with white marble, and bears the suggestive name of the Hall 
 of the Two Sisters. Some destroy the romance of the name 
 by attributing it to two enormous slabs of alabaster which lie 
 side by side, and form a great part of the pavement : an opinion 
 strongly supported by Mateo Ximenes. Others are disposed to 
 give the name a more poetical significance, as the vague memo 
 rial of Moorish beauties who once graced this hall, which was 
 evidently a part of the royal harem. This opinion I was happy 
 to find entertained by our little bright-eyed guide, Dolores, who 
 pointed to a balcony over an inner porch, which gallery, she 
 had been told, belonged to the women s apartment. " You see, 
 senor," said she, "it is all grated and latticed, like the gallery 
 in a convent chapel where the nuns hear mass ; for the Moorish 
 kings," added she, indignantly, u shut up their wives just like 
 nuns." 
 
 The latticed "jalousies," in fact, still remain, whence the 
 dark-eyed beauties of the harem might gaze unseen upon the 
 zambras and other dances and entertainments of the hall below. 
 
 On each side of this hall are recesses or alcoves for ottomans 
 and couches, on which the voluptuous lords of the Alhambra 
 indulged in that dreamy repose so dear to the Orientalists. A 
 cupola or lantern admits a tempered light from above and a free 
 circulation of air ; while on one side is heard the refreshing sound 
 of waters from the fountain of the lions, and on the other side 
 the soft plash from the basin in the garden of Lindaraxa. 
 
 It is impossible to contemplate this scene, so perfectly Ori 
 ental, without feeling the early associations of Arabian romance, 
 and almost expecting to see the white arm of some mysterious 
 
42 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 princess beckoning from the gallery, or some dark eye sparkling 
 through the lattice. The abode of beauty is here as if it had 
 been inhabited but yesterday; but where are the two sisters, 
 where the Zoraydas and Lindaraxas ! 
 
 An abundant supply of water, brought from the mountains 
 by old Moorish aqueducts, circulates throughout the palace, sup 
 plying its baths and fish-pools, sparkling in jets within its halls 
 or murmuring in channels along the marble pavements. When 
 it has paid its tribute to the royal pile, and visited its gardens 
 and parterres, it flows down the long avenue leading to the city, 
 tinkling in rills, gushing in fountains, and maintaining a per 
 petual verdure in those groves that embower and beautify the 
 whole hill of the Alhambra. 
 
 Those only who have sojourned in the ardent climates of the 
 South can appreciate the delights of an abode combining the 
 breezy coolness of the mountain with the freshness and verdure 
 of the valley. While the city below pants with the noontide 
 heat, and the parched Vega trembles to the eye, the delicate 
 airs from the Sierra Nevada play through these lofty halls, bring 
 ing with them the sweetness of the surrounding gardens. Every 
 thing invites to that indolent repose, the bliss of southern climes ; 
 and while the half-shut eye looks out from shaded balconies 
 upon the glittering landscape, the ear is lulled by the rustling 
 of groves and the murmur of running streams. 
 
 I forbear for the present, however, to describe the other de 
 lightful apartments of the palace. My object is merely to give 
 the reader a general introduction into an abode where, if so dis 
 posed, he may linger and loiter with me day by day until we 
 gradually become familiar with all its localities. 
 
 NOTE ON MORISCO ARCHITECTURE 
 
 To an unpractised eye the light relievos and fanciful arabesques 
 which cover the walls of the Alhambra appear to have been sculp 
 tured by the hand, with a minute and patient labor, an inexhausti- 
 
NOTE ON MORISCO ARCHITECTURE 43 
 
 ble variety of detail, yet a general uniformity and harmony of 
 design truly astonishing ; and this may especially be said of the 
 vaults and cupolas, which are wrought like honey-combs, or frost 
 work, with stalactites and pendants which confound the beholder 
 with the seeming intricacy of their patterns. The astonishment 
 ceases, however, when it is discovered that this is all stucco-work ; 
 plates of plaster of Paris, cast in moulds and skilfully joined so as 
 to form patterns of every size and form. This mode of diapering 
 walls with arabesques, and stuccoing the vaults with grotto-work, 
 was invented in Damascus, but highly improved by the Moors in 
 Morocco, to whom Saracenic architecture owes its most graceful 
 and fanciful details. The process by which all this fairy tracery 
 was produced was ingeniously simple. The wall in its naked state 
 was divided off by lines crossing at right angles, such as artists use 
 in copying a picture ; over these were drawn a succession of inter 
 secting segments of circles. By the aid of these the artists could 
 work with celerity and certainty, and from the mere intersection 
 of the plain and curved lines arose the interminable variety of pat 
 terns and the general uniformity of their character. 
 
 Much gilding was used in the stucco-work, especially of the cupo 
 las ; and the interstices were delicately pencilled with brilliant colors, 
 such as vermilion and lapis lazuli, laid on with the whites of eggs. 
 The primitive colors alone were used, says Ford, by the Egyptians, 
 Greeks, and Arabs, in the early period of art ; and they prevail in 
 the Alhambra whenever the artist has been Arabic or Moorish. 
 It is remarkable how much of their original brilliancy remains after 
 the lapse of several centuries. 
 
 The lower part of the walls in the saloons, to the height of several 
 feet, is incrusted with glazed tiles, joined like the plates of stucco- 
 work, so as to form various patterns. On some of them are em 
 blazoned the escutcheons of the Moslem kings, traversed with a 
 band and motto. These glazed tiles (azulejos in Spanish, az-zulaj 
 in Arabic) are of Oriental origin ; their coolness, cleanliness, and 
 freedom from vermin, render them admirably fitted in sultry cli 
 mates for paving halls and fountains, incrusting bathing-rooms, and 
 lining the w r alls of chambers. Ford is inclined to give them great 
 antiquity. From their prevailing colors, sapphire and blue, he de 
 duces that they may have formed the kind of pavements alluded to 
 in the sacred Scriptures : "There was under his feet as it were a 
 paved work of a sapphire stone " (Exod. xxiv. 10) ; and again, 
 " Behold I will lay thy stones with fair colors, and lay thy founda 
 tions with sapphires " (Isaiah liv. 11). 
 
44 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 These glazed or porcelain tiles were introduced into Spain at an 
 early date by the Moslems. Some are to be seen among the Moor 
 ish ruins which have been there upwards of eight centuries. Manu 
 factures of them still exist in the Peninsula, and they are much used 
 in the best Spanish houses, especially in the southern provinces, for 
 paving and lining the summer apartments. 
 
 The Spaniards introduced them into the Netherlands when they 
 had possession of that country. The people of Holland adopted 
 them with avidity, as wonderfully suited to their passion for house 
 hold cleanliness ; and thus these Oriental inventions, the azulejos 
 of the Spanish, the az-zulaj of the Arabs, have come to be com 
 monly known as Dutch tiles. 
 
 IMPORTANT NEGOTIATIONS THE AUTHOR SUC 
 CEEDS TO THE THRONE OF BOABDIL 
 
 THE day was nearly spent before we could tear ourself from 
 this region of poetry and romance to descend to the city and re 
 turn to the forlorn realities of a Spanish posada. In a visit of 
 ceremony to the Governor of the Alhambra, to whom we had 
 brought letters, we dwelt with enthusiasm on the scenes we had 
 witnessed, and could not but express surprise that he should re 
 side in the city when he had such a paradise at his command. 
 He pleaded the inconvenience of a residence in the palace from 
 its situation on the crest of a hill, distant from the seat of busi 
 ness and the resorts of social intercourse. It did very well for 
 monarchs, who often had need of castle walls to defend them 
 from their own subjects. "But, senors," added he, smiling, 
 " if you think a residence there so desirable, my apartments in 
 the Alhambra are at your service." 
 
 It is a common and almost indispensable point of politeness 
 in a Spaniard to tell you his house is yours. " Esta casa es 
 siempre a la disposition de Vm" ( This house is always at 
 the command of your Grace.) In fact, anything of his which 
 you admire is immediately offered to you. It is equally a mark 
 
v THE LOAN OF A PALACE 45 
 
 of good breeding in you not to accept it ; so we merely bowed 
 our acknowledgments of the courtesy of the Governor in offer 
 ing us a royal palace. We were mistaken, however. The Gov 
 ernor was in earnest. " You will find a rambling set of empty, 
 unfurnished rooms," said he ; " but Tia Antonia, who has charge 
 of the palace, may be able to put them in some kind of order, 
 and to take care of you while you are there. If you can make 
 any arrangement with her for your accommodation, and are con 
 tent with scanty fare in a royal abode, the palace of King Chico 
 is at your service." 
 
 We took the Governor at his word, and hastened up the 
 steep Calle de los Gomeres, and through the Great Gate of 
 Justice, to negotiate with Dame Antonia, doubting at times 
 if this were not a dream,, and fearing at times that the sage 
 Duena of the fortress might be slow to capitulate. We knew 
 we had one friend at least in the garrison, who w r ould be in 
 our favor, the bright-eyed little Dolores, whose good graces we 
 had propitiated on our first visit ; and who hailed our return 
 to the palace with her brightest looks. 
 
 All, however, went smoothly. The good Tia Antonia had 
 a little furniture to put in the rooms, but it was of the com 
 monest kind. We assured her we could bivouac on the floor. 
 She could supply our table, but only in her own simple way ; 
 we wanted nothing better. Her niece, Dolores, would wait 
 upon us ; and at the word we threw up our hats and the bar 
 gain was complete. 
 
 The very next day we took up our abode in the palace, and 
 never did sovereigns share a divided throne with more perfect 
 harmony. Several days passed by like a dream, when my 
 worthy associate, being summoned to Madrid on diplomatic 
 duties, was compelled to abdicate, leaving me sole monarch 
 of this shadowy realm. For myself, being in a manner a hap 
 hazard loiterer about the world, and prone to linger in its 
 pleasant places, here have I been suffering day by day to steal 
 
46 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 away unheeded, spell-bound, for aught I know, in this old 
 enchanted pile. Having always a companionable feeling for 
 my reader, and being prone to live with him on confidential 
 terms, I shall make it a point to communicate to him my 
 reveries and researches during this state of delicious thraldom. 
 If they have the power of imparting to his imagination any of 
 the witching charms of the place, he will not repine at lingering 
 with me for a season in the- legendary halls of the Alhambra. 
 
 And first it is proper to give him some idea of my domestic 
 arrangements : they are rather of a simple kind for the occu 
 pant of a regal palace; but I trust they will be less liable to 
 disastrous reverses than those of my royal predecessors. 
 
 My quarters are at one end of the Governor s apartment, 
 a suite of empty chambers, in front of the palace, looking out 
 upon the great esplanade called la plaza de los algibes (the 
 place of the cisterns) ; the apartment is modern, but the end 
 opposite to my sleeping-room communicates with a cluster 
 of little chambers, partly Moorish, partly Spanish, allotted to 
 the chatdlaine Doiia Antonia and her family. In consideration 
 of keeping the palace in order, the good dame is allowed all the 
 perquisites received from visitors, and all the produce of the 
 gardens ; excepting that she is expected to pay an occasional 
 tribute of fruits and flowers to the Governor. Her family 
 consists of a nephew and niece, the children of two different 
 brothers. The nephew, Manuel Molina, is a young man of 
 sterling worth and Spanish gravity. He had served in the 
 army, both in Spain and the West Indies, but is now study 
 ing medicine in the hope of one day or other becoming physi 
 cian to the fortress, a post worth at least one hundred and forty 
 dollars a year. The niece is the plump little black-eyed 
 Dolores already mentioned ; and who, it is said, will one day 
 inherit all her aunt s possessions, consisting of certain petty 
 tenements in the fortress, in a somewhat ruinous condition it is 
 true, but which, I am privately assured by Mateo Ximenes, 
 
DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS 47 
 
 yield a revenue of nearly one hundred and fifty dollars, so that 
 she is quite an heiress in the eyes of the ragged son of the 
 Al ham bra. I am also informed by the same observant and 
 authentic personage, that a quiet courtship is going on between 
 the discreet Manuel and his bright-eyed cousin, and that nothing 
 is wanting to enable them to join their hands and expectations 
 but his doctor s diploma, and a dispensation from the Pope on 
 account of their consanguinity. 
 
 The good dame Antonia fulfils faithfully her contract in 
 regard to my board and lodging ; and as I am easily pleased, 
 I find my fare excellent ; while the merry-hearted little Dolores 
 keeps my apartments in order, and officiates as handmaid at 
 meal-times. I have also at my command a tall, stuttering, 
 yellow-haired lad, named Pdpe, who works in the gardens, and 
 would fain have acted as valet; but in this he was forestalled 
 by Mateo Ximenes, the "son of the Alhambra." This alert 
 and officious wight has managed, somehow or other, to stick 
 by me ever since I first encountered him at the outer gate of the 
 fortress, and to weave himself into all my plans, until he has 
 fairly appointed and installed himself my valet, cicerone, guide, 
 guard, and historiographic squire ; and I have been obliged to 
 improve the state of his wardrobe, that he may not disgrace his , 
 various functions ; so that he has cast his old brown mantle, \ 
 as a snake does his skin, and now appears about the fortress 
 with a smart Andalusian hat and jacket, to his infinite satisfac 
 tion, and the great astonishment of his comrades. The chief 
 fault of honest Mateo is an over-anxiety to be useful. Con 
 scious of having foisted himself into my employ, and that my 
 simple and quiet habits render his situation a sinecure, he is at 
 his wit s ends to devise modes of making himself important 
 to my welfare. I am in a manner the victim of his officious- 
 ness; I cannot put my foot over the threshold of the 
 palace, to stroll about the fortress, but he is at my elbow to 
 explain everything I see; and if I venture to ramble among 
 
48 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the surrounding hills, he insists upon attending me as a guard, 
 though I vehemently suspect he would be more apt to trust to 
 the length of his legs than the strength of his arms, in case 
 of attack. After all, however, the poor fellow is at times an 
 amusing companion ; he is simple-minded and of infinite good 
 humor, with the loquacity and gossip of a village barber, and 
 knows all the small-talk of the place and its environs ; but 
 what he chiefly values himself on, is his stock of local informa 
 tion, having the most marvellous stories to relate of every 
 tower, and vault, and gateway of the fortress, in all of which he 
 places the most implicit faith. 
 
 Most of these he has derived, according to his own account, 
 from his grandfather, a little legendary tailor, who lived to the 
 age of nearly a hundred years, during which he made but two 
 migrations beyond the precincts of the fortress. His shop, for the 
 greater part of a century was the resort of a knot of venerable 
 gossips, where they would pass half the night talking about old 
 times, and the wonderful events and hidden secrets of the 
 place. The whole living, moving, thinking, and acting of this 
 historical little tailor had thus been bounded by the walls of the 
 Alhambra ; within them he had been born, within them he 
 lived, breathed, and had his being ; within them he died and 
 was buried. Fortunately for posterity, his traditionary lore 
 died not with him. The authentic Mateo, when an urchin, 
 used to be an attentive listener to the narratives of his 
 grandfather, and of the gossiping group assembled round the 
 shopboard, and is thus possessed of a stock of valuable knowl 
 edge concerning the Alhambra, not to be found in books, and 
 well worthy the attention of every curious traveller. 
 
 Such are the personages that constitute my regal household ; 
 and I question whether any of the potentates, Moslem or 
 Christian, who have preceded me in the palace, have been 
 waited upon with greater fidelity, or enjoyed a serener sway. 
 
 When I rise in the morning, Pe pe, the stuttering lad from 
 
THE LEVEE OF TIA ANTONIA 49 
 
 the gardens, brings me a tribute of fresh-culled flowers, which 
 are afterwards arranged in vases by the skilful hands of Dolores, 
 who takes a feminine pride in the decoration of my chambers. 
 My meals are made wherever caprice dictates ; sometimes in one 
 of the Moorish halls, sometimes under the arcades of the Court of 
 Lions, surrounded by flowers and fountains : and when I walk out, 
 I am conducted by the assiduous Mateo to the most romantic 
 retreats of the mountains, and delicious haunts of the adjacent 
 valleys, not one of which but is the scene of some wonderful tale. 
 Though fond of passing the greater part of my day alone, 
 yet I occasionally repair in the evenings to the little domestic 
 circle of Dona Antonia. This is generally held in an old Moor 
 ish chamber, which serves the good dame for parlor, kitchen, 
 and hall of audience, and which must have boasted of some 
 splendor in the time of the Moors, if we may judge from the 
 traces yet remaining; but a rude fireplace has been made in 
 modern times in one corner, the smoke from which has dis 
 colored the walls, and almost obliterated the ancient arabesques. 
 A window, with a balcony overhanging the valley of the Darro, 
 lets in the cool evening breeze; and here I take my frugal 
 supper of fruit and milk, and mingle with the conversation of 
 the family. There is a natural talent or mother-wit, as it is 
 called, about the Spaniards, which renders them intellectual 
 and agreeable companions, whatever may be their condition in 
 life, or however imperfect may have been their education : add 
 to this, they are never vulgar ; nature has endowed them with 
 an inherent dignity of spirit. The good Tia Antonia is a woman 
 of strong and intelligent, though uncultivated mind ; and the 
 bright-eyed Dolores, though she has read but three or four books 
 in the whole course of her life, has an engaging mixture of 
 naivetd and good sense, and often surprises me by the pungency 
 of her artless sallies. Sometimes the nephew entertains us by 
 reading some old comedy of Calderon or Lope de Vega, to which 
 he is evidently prompted by a desire to improve as well as amuse 
 
50 THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 his cousin Dolores ; though, to his great mortification, the little 
 damsel generally falls asleep before the first act is completed. 
 Sometimes Tia Antonia has a little levee of humble friends and 
 dependants, the inhabitants of the adjacent hamlet, or the wives 
 of the invalid soldiers. These look up to her with great defer 
 ence, as the custodian of the palace, and pay their court to her 
 by bringing the news of the place, or the rumors that may 
 have straggled up from Granada. In listening to these evening 
 gossipings I have picked up many curious facts illustrative of the 
 manners of the people and the peculiarities of the neighborhood. 
 These are simple details of simple pleasures ; it is the nature 
 of the place alone that gives them interest and importance. 
 I tread haunted ground, and am surrounded by romantic asso 
 ciations. From earliest boyhood, when, on the banks of the 
 Hudson, I first pored over the pages of old Gines Perez de 
 Hytas s apocryphal but chivalresque history of the civil wars of 
 Granada, and the feuds of its gallant cavaliers, the Zegries and 
 Abencerrages, that city has ever been a subject of my waking 
 dreams : and often have I trod in fancy the romantic halls of 
 the Alhambra. Behold for once a day-dream realized; yet I 
 can scarce credit my senses, or believe that I do indeed inhabit 
 the palace of Boabdil, and look down from its balconies upon 
 chivalric Granada. As I loiter through these Oriental chambers, 
 and hear the murmur of fountains and the song of the nightin 
 gale ; as I inhale the odor of the rose, and feel the influence of the 
 balmy climate, I am almost tempted to fancy myself in a paradise 
 of Mahomet, and that the plump little Dolores is one of the 
 bright-eyed houris, destined to administer to the happiness of 
 true believers. 
 
 INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBKA 
 
 I HAVE often observed that the more proudly a mansion has 
 been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its 
 
INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA 51 
 
 inhabitants in the day of its decline, and that the palace of a 
 king commonly ends in being the nestling-place of the beggar. 
 
 The Alhainbra is in a rapid state of similar transition. 
 Whenever a tower falls to decay, it is seized upon by some 
 tatterdemalion family, who become joint -tenants, with the bats 
 and owls, of its gilded halls ; and hang their rags, those stand 
 ards of poverty, out of its windows and loopholes. 
 
 I have amused myself with remarking some of the motley 
 characters that have thus usurped the ancient abode of royalty, \ 
 and who seem as if placed here to give a farcical termination to J 
 the drama of human pride. One of these even bears the mock 
 ery of a regal title. It is a little old woman named Maria 
 Antonia Sabonea, but who goes by the appellation of la Eeyna 
 Coquina, or the Cockle-queen. She is small enough to be a 
 fairy ; and a fairy she may be for ought I can find out, for no 
 one seems to know her origin. Her habitation is in a kind of 
 closet under the outer staircase of the palace, and she sits in 
 the cool stone corridor, plying her needle and singing from 
 morning till night, with a ready joke for every one that passes ; 
 for though one of the poorest, she is one of the merriest little 
 women breathing. Her great merit is a gift for story-telling, 
 having, I verily believe, as many stories at her command as the 
 inexhaustible Scheherezade of the Thousand and One Nights. 
 Some of these I have heard her relate in the evening tertulias 
 of Dame Antonia, at which she is occasionally a humble 
 attendant. 
 
 That there must be some fairy gift about this mysterious 
 little old woman, would appear from her extraordinary luck, 
 since, notwithstanding her being very little, very ugly, and very 
 poor, she has had, according to her own account, five husbands 
 and a half, reckoning as a half one a young dragoon, who died ! 
 during courtship. A rival personage to this little fairy queen 
 is a portly old fellow with a bottle-nose, who goes about in a 
 rusty garb, with a cocked hat of oil-skin and a red cockade. He 
 
52 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 V 
 
 is one of the legitimate sons of the Alhambra, and has lived here all 
 his life, filling various offices, such as deputy alguazil, sexton of 
 the parochial church, and marker of a fives-court, established at 
 the foot of one of the towers. He is as poor as a rat, but as 
 proud as he is ragged, boasting of his descent from the illustrious 
 house of Aguilar, from which sprang Gonzalvo of Cordova, the 
 grand captain. Nay, he actually bears the name of Alonzo de 
 Aguilar, so renowned in the history of the Conquest ; though 
 the graceless wags of the fortress have given him the title of el 
 padre santo, or the holy father, the usual appellation of the 
 Pope, which T had thought too sacred in the eyes of true Cath 
 olics to be thus ludicrously applied. It is a whimsical caprice 
 of fortune to present, in the grotesque person of this tatterde 
 malion, a namesake and descendant of the proud Alonzo de 
 Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chivalry, leading an almost 
 mendicant existence about this once haughty fortress, which his 
 ancestor aided to reduce ; yet such might have been the lot of 
 the descendants of Agamemnon and Achilles, had they lingered 
 about the ruins of Troy ! 
 
 Of this motley community, I find the family of my gossiping 
 squire, Mateo Ximenes, to form, from their numbers at least, a 
 very important part. His boast of being a son of the Alhambra 
 is not unfounded. His family has inhabited the fortress ever 
 since the time of the Conquest, handing down an hereditary 
 poverty from father to son ; not one of them having ever been 
 known to be worth a maravedi. His father, by trade a ribbon- 
 weaver, and who succeeded the historical tailor as the head of 
 the family, is now near seventy years of age, and lives in a 
 hovel of reeds and plaster, built by his own hands, just above 
 the iron gate. The furniture consists of a crazy bed, a table, 
 and two or three chairs ; a wooden chest, containing, besides 
 his scanty clothing, the "archives of the family." These are 
 nothing more nor less than the papers of various lawsuits sus 
 tained by different generations ; by which it would seem that, 
 
THE FAMILY OF MATEO 53 
 
 with all their apparent carelessness and good-humor, they are a 
 litigious brood. Most of the suits have been brought against 
 gossiping neighbors for questioning the purity of their blood, 
 and denying their being Christianas Viejos, i.e. Old Christians, 
 without Jewish or Moorish taint. In fact, I doubt whether 
 this jealousy about their blood has not kept them so poor in 
 purse : spending all their earnings on escribanos and alguazils. 
 The pride of the hovel is an escutcheon suspended against the 
 wall, in which are emblazoned quarterings of the arms of the 
 Marquis of Caiesedo, and of various other noble houses, with 
 which this poverty-stricken brood claim affinity. 
 
 As to Mateo himself, who is now about thirty-five years of 
 age, he has done his utmost to perpetuate his line and continue 
 the poverty of the family, having a wife and a numerous prog 
 eny, who inhabit an almost dismantled hovel in the hamlet. 
 How they manage to subsist, he only who sees into all mysteries 
 can tell ; the subsistence of a Spanish family of the kind is al 
 ways a riddle to me ; yet they do subsist, and what is more, 
 appear to enjoy their existence. The wife takes her holiday 
 stroll on the Paseo of Granada, with a child in her arms and 
 half a dozen at her heels ; and the eldest daughter, now verg 
 ing into womanhood, dresses her hair with flowers, and dances 
 gayly to the castanets. 
 
 There are two classes of people to whom life seems one long 
 holiday, the very rich and the very poor ; one, because they 
 need do nothing ; the other, because they have nothing to do ; 
 but there are none who understand the art of doing nothing and 
 living upon nothing, better than the poorer classes of Spain. 
 Climate does one half, and temperament the rest. Give a Span 
 iard the shade in summer and the sun in winter, a little bread, 
 garlic, oil, and garbances, an old brown cloak and a guitar, and 
 let the world roll on as it pleases. Talk of poverty ! with him 
 it has no disgrace. It sits upon him with a grandiose style, like 
 his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo, even when in rags. 
 
54 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The " sons of the Alhambra" are an eminent illustration of this 
 practical philosophy. As the Moors imagined that the celestial 
 paradise hung over this favored spot, so I am inclined at times 
 to fancy that a gleam of the golden age still lingers about this 
 ragged community. They possess nothing, they do nothing, they 
 care for nothing. Yet, though apparently idle all the week, 
 they are as observant of all holy days and saints days as the 
 most laborious artisan. They attend all fetes and dancings in 
 Granada and its vicinity, light bonfires on the hills on St. John s 
 eve, and dance away the moonlight nights on the harvest-home 
 of a small field within the precincts of the fortress, which yield 
 a few bushels of wheat. 
 
 Before concluding these remarks, I must mention one of the 
 amusements of the place, which has particularly struck me. I 
 had repeatedly observed a long, lean fellow perched on the top 
 of one of the towers, manoeuvring two or three fishing-rods, as 
 though he were angling for the stars. I was for some time per 
 plexed by the evolutions of this aerial fisherman, and my per 
 plexity increased on observing others employed in like manner 
 on different parts of the battlements and bastions ; it was not 
 until I consulted Mateo Ximenes that I solved the mystery. 
 
 It seems that the pure and*airy situation of this fortress has 
 rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breeding-place 
 for swallows and martlets, who sport about its towers in myr 
 iads, with the holiday glee of urchins just let loose from school. 
 To entrap these birds in their giddy circlings, with hooks baited 
 with flies, is one of the favorite amusements of the ragged "sons 
 of the Alhambra," who, with the good-for-nothing ingenuity of 
 arrant idlers, have thus invented the art of angling in the sky. 
 
THE HALL OF AMBASSADORS 55 
 
 THE HALL OF AMBASSADORS 
 
 IN one of my visits to the old Moorish chamber where the 
 good Tia Antonia cooks her dinner and receives her company, I 
 observed a mysterious door in one corner, leading apparently 
 into the ancient part of the edifice. My curiosity being aroused, 
 I opened it, and found myself in a narrow, blind corridor, grop 
 ing along which I came to the head of a dark winding staircase, 
 leading down an angle of the Tower of Comares. Down this 
 staircase I descended darkling, guiding myself by the wall until 
 I came to a small door at the bottom, throwing which open, I 
 was suddenly dazzled by emerging into the brilliant antecham 
 ber of the Hall of Ambassadors ; with the fountain of the court 
 of the Alberca sparkling before me. The antechamber is sepa 
 rated from the court by an elegant gallery, supported by slender 
 columns with spandrels of open work in the Morisco style. At 
 each end of the antechamber are alcoves, and its ceiling is richly 
 stuccoed and painted. Passing through a magnificent portal, 
 I found myself in the far-famed Hall of Ambassadors, the audi 
 ence chamber of the Moslem monarchs. It is said to be thirty- 
 seven feet square, and * sixty feet high ; occupies the whole 
 interior of the Tower of Comares ; and still bears the traces of 
 past magnificence. The walls are beautifully stucqoed and deco 
 rated with Morisco fancifulness ; the lofty ceiling was originally 
 of the same favorite material, with the usual frostwork and pen 
 sile ornaments or stalactites ; which, with the embellishments 
 of vivid coloring and gilding, must have been gorgeous in the 
 extreme. Unfortunately it gave way during an earthquake, and 
 brought down with it an immense arch which traversed the 
 hall. It w ? as replaced by the present vault or dome of larch or 
 cedar, with intersecting ribs, the whole .curiously wrought and 
 richly colored; still Oriental in its character, reminding one of 
 
56 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 " those ceilings of cedar and vermilion that we read of in the 
 Prophets and the Arabian Nights." 
 
 From the great height of the vault above the windows, the 
 upper part of the hall is almost lost in obscurity ; yet there is 
 a magnificence as well as solemnity in the gloom, as through it 
 we have gleams of rich gilding and the brilliant tints of the 
 Moorish pencil. 
 
 The royal throne was placed opposite the entrance in a recess, 
 which still bears an inscription intimating that Yusef I. (the 
 monarch who completed the Alhambra) made this the throne 
 of his empire. Everything in this noble hall seems to have 
 been calculated to surround the throne with impressive dignity 
 and splendor; there was none of the elegant voluptuousness 
 which reigns in other parts of the palace. The tower is of 
 massive strength, domineering over the whole edifice and over 
 hanging the steep hillside. On three sides of the Hall of Am 
 bassadors are windows cut through the immense thickness of 
 the walls and commanding extensive prospects. The balcony 
 of the central window especially looks down upon the verdant 
 valley of the Darro, with its walks, its groves, and gardens. 
 To the left it enjoys a distant prospect of the Vega ; while di 
 rectly in front rises the rival height of the Albaycin, with its 
 medley of streets, and terraces, and gardens, and once crowned 
 by a fortress that vied in power with the Alhambra. " 111 
 fated the man, who lost all this ! " exclaimed Charles V., as he 
 looked forth from this window upon the enchanting scenery 
 it commands. 
 
 The balcony of the window where this royal exclamation was 
 made, has of late become one of my favorite resorts. I have 
 just been seated there, enjoying the close of a long brilliant day. 
 The sun, as he sank behind the purple mountains of Alhama, 
 sent a stream of effulgence up the valley of the Darro, that 
 spread a melancholy pomp over the ruddy towers of the Alham 
 bra ; while the Vega, covered with a slight sultry vapor that 
 
THE HALL OF AMBASSADORS 5? 
 
 caught the setting ray, seemed spread out in the distance like a 
 golden sea. Not a breath of air disturbed the stillness of the 
 hour, and though the faint sound of music and merriment now 
 and then rose from the gardens of the Darro, it but rendered 
 more impressive the monumental silence of the pile which over 
 shadowed me. It was one of those hours and scenes in which 
 memory asserts an almost magical power : and, like the evening 
 sun beaming on those mouldering towers, sends back her retro 
 spective rays to light up the glories of the past. 
 
 As I sat watching the effect of the declining daylight upon this 
 Moorish pile, I was led into a consideration of the light, elegant, 
 and voluptuous character prevalent throughout its internal ar 
 chitecture, and to contrast it with the grand but gloomy solem 
 nity of the Gothic edifices reared by the Spanish conquerors. 
 The very architecture thus bespeaks the opposite and irrecon 
 cilable natures of the two warlike people who so long battled 
 here for the mastery of the Peninsular. By degrees I fell into 
 a course of musing upon the singular fortunes of the Arabian or 
 Morisco-Spaniards, whose whole existence is as a tale that is 
 told, and certainly forms one of the most anomalous yet splendid 
 episodes in history. Potent and durable as was their dominion, 
 we scarcely know how to call them. They were a nation with 
 out a legitimate country r or name. A remote wave of the great 
 Arabian inundation, cast upon the shores of Europe, they seem 
 to have all the impetus of the first rush of the torrent. Their 
 career of conquest, from the rock of Gibraltar to the cliffs of the 
 Pyrenees, was rapid and brilliant as the Moslem victories of 
 Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not been checked on the 
 plains of Tours, all France, all Europe, might have been over 
 run with the same facility as the empires of the East, and the 
 Crescent at this day have glittered on the fanes of Paris and 
 London. 
 
 Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed hordes 
 of Asia and Africa, that formed this great irruption, gave up 
 
58 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the Moslem principle of conquest, and sought to establish in 
 Spain a peaceful and permanent dominion. As conquerors, 
 their heroism was only equalled by their moderation ; and in 
 both, for a time, they excelled the nations with whom they 
 contended. Severed from their native homes, they loved the 
 land given them as they supposed by Allah, and strove to em 
 bellish it with everything that could administer to the happi 
 ness of man. Laying the foundations of their power in a 
 system of wise and equitable laws, diligently cultivating the 
 arts and sciences, and promoting agriculture, manufactures, and 
 commerce, they gradually formed an empire unrivalled for its 
 prosperity by any of the empires of Christendom ; and diligently 
 drawing round them the graces and refinements which marked 
 the Arabian empire in the East, at the time of its greatest civi 
 lization, they diffused the light of Oriental knowledge through 
 the w r estern regions of benighted Europe. 
 
 The cities of Arabian Spain became the resort of Christian 
 artisans, to instruct themselves in the useful arts. The uni 
 versities of Toledo, Cordova, Seville, and Granada were sought 
 by the pale student from other lands to acquaint himself with 
 the sciences of the Arabs and the treasured lore of antiquity; 
 the lovers of the gay science resorted to Cordova and Granada, 
 to imbibe the poetry and music of the East ; and the steel-clad 
 warriors of the North hastened thither to accomplish themselves 
 in the graceful exercises and courteous usages of chivalry. 
 
 If the Moslem monuments in Spain, if the Mosque of Cordova, 
 the Alcazar of Seville, and the Alhambra of Granada, still bear 
 inscriptions fondly boasting of the power and permanency of 
 their dominion, can the boast be derided as arrogant and vain ? 
 Generation after generation, century after century, passed away, 
 and still they maintained possession of the land. A period 
 elapsed longer than that which has passed since England was 
 subjugated by the Norman Conqueror, and the descendants of 
 Musa and Taric might as little anticipate being driven into 
 
MOSLEM MONUMENTS 59 
 
 exile across the same straits, traversed by their triumphant 
 ancestors, as the descendants of Rollo and William, and their 
 veteran peers, may dream of being driven back to the shores of 
 Normandy. 
 
 With all this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was but 
 a brilliant exotic, that took no permanent root in the soil it em 
 bellished. Severed from all their neighbors in the West by 
 impassable barriers of faith and manners, and separated by seas 
 and deserts from their kindred of the East, the Morisco-Spaniards 
 were an isolated people. Their whole existence was a prolonged, 
 though gallant and chivalric struggle for a foothold in a usurped 
 land. 
 
 They were the outposts and frontiers of Islamism. The 
 Peninsula was the great battle-ground where the Gothic con 
 querors of the North and the Moslem conquerors of the East 
 met and strove for mastery ; and the fiery courage of the Arab 
 was at length subdued by the obstinate and persevering valor 
 of the Goth. 
 
 Never was the annihilation of the people more complete than 
 that of the Morisco-Spaniards. Where are they ? Ask the 
 shores of Barbary and its desert places. The exiled remnant 
 of their once powerful empire disappeared among the barbarians 
 of Africa, and ceased to be a nation. The} 7 have not even left 
 a distinct name behind them, though for nearly eight centuries 
 they were a distinct people. The home of their adoption, and 
 of their occupation for ages, refuses to acknowledge them, ex 
 cept as invaders and usurpers. A few broken monuments are 
 all that remain to bear witness to their power and dominion, 
 as solitary rocks, left far in the interior, bear testimony to the 
 extent of some vast inundation. Such is the Alhambra ; a 
 Moslem pile in the midst of a Christian land; an Oriental 
 palace amidst the Gothic edifices of the West ; an elegant me 
 mento of a brave, intelligent, and graceful people, who con 
 quered, ruled, flourished, and passed away. 
 
60 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 THE JESUITS LIBRARY 
 
 SINCE indulging in the foregoing reverie, my curiosity has 
 been aroused to know something of the princes who left behind 
 them this monument of Oriental taste and magnificence, and 
 whose names still appear among the inscriptions on its walls. 
 To gratify this curiosity, I have descended from this region of 
 fancy and fable, where everything is liable to take an imagi 
 nary tint, and have carried my researches among the dusty 
 tomes of the old Jesuits Library in the University. This once 
 boasted repository of erudition is now a mere shadow of its 
 former self, having been stripped of its manuscripts and rarest 
 works by the French, when masters of Granada ; still it con 
 tains, among many ponderous tomes of the Jesuit fathers, which 
 the French were careful to leave behind, several curious tracts 
 of Spanish literature; and, above all a number of those anti 
 quated, parchment-bound chronicles for which I have a particu 
 lar veneration. 
 
 In this old library I have passed many delightful hours of 
 quiet, undisturbed, literary foraging ; for the keys of the doors 
 and bookcases were kindly intrusted to me, and I was left 
 alone, to rummage at my pleasure, a rare indulgence in these 
 sanctuaries of learning, which too often tantalize the thirsty 
 student with the sight of sealed fountains of knowledge. 
 
 In the course of these visits I gleaned a variety of facts con 
 cerning historical characters connected with the Alhambra, some 
 of which I here subjoin, trusting they may prove acceptable to 
 the reader. 
 
 ALHAMAR, THE FOUNDER OF THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 THE Moors of Granada regarded the Alhambra as a miracle 
 of art, and had a tradition that the king who founded it dealt 
 
ALHAMAR 61 
 
 in magic, or at least in alchemy, by means whereof he procured 
 the immense sums of gold expended in its erection. A brief 
 view of his reign will show the secret of his wealth. He is 
 known in Arabian history as Muhamed Ibn-1-Ahmar ; but his 
 name in general is written simply Alhamar, and was given to 
 him, we are told, on account of his ruddy complexion. 1 
 
 He was of the noble and opulent line of the Beni Nasar, or 
 tribe of Nasar, and was born in Arjona, in the year of the He- 
 gira 592 (A.D. 1195). At his birth the astrologers, we are told, 
 cast his horoscope according to Oriental custom, and pronounced 
 it highly auspicious ; and a santon predicted for him a glorious 
 career. No expense was spared in fitting him for the high des 
 tinies prognosticated. Before he attained the full years of man 
 hood, the famous battle of the Navas (or plains) of Tolosa 
 shattered the Moorish empire, and eventually severed the Mos 
 lems of Spain from the Moslems of Africa. Factions soon arose 
 among the former, headed by warlike chiefs ambitious of grasp 
 ing the sovereignty of the Peninsula. Alhamar became engaged 
 in these wars ; he was the general and leader of the Beni Nasar, 
 and, as such, he opposed and thwarted the ambition of Aben 
 Hud, who had raised his standard among the warlike mountains 
 of the Alpuxaras, and been proclaimed king of Murcia and 
 Granada. Many conflict^ took place between these warring 
 chieftains ; Alhamar dispossessed his rival of several impor 
 tant places, and was proclaimed king of Jaen by his soldiery ; 
 but he aspired to the sovereignty of the whole of Anda 
 lusia, for he was of a sanguine spirit and lofty ambition. His 
 valor and generosity went hand in hand ; what he gained by 
 the one he secured by the other; and at the death of Aben Hud 
 (A.D. 1238) he became sovereign of all the territories which 
 owed allegiance to that powerful chief. He made his formal 
 entry into Granada in the same year, amid the enthusiastic 
 shouts of the multitude, who hailed him as the only one cap 
 able of uniting the various factions which prevailed, and which 
 
62 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 threatened to lay the empire at the mercy of the Christian 
 princes. 
 
 Alhamar established his court in Granada ; he was the first of 
 the illustrious line of Nasar that sat upon a throne. He took 
 immediate measures to put his little kingdom in a posture of 
 defence against the assaults to be expected from his Christian 
 neighbors, repairing and strengthening the frontier posts and 
 fortifying the capital. Not content with the provisions of the 
 Moslem law, by which every man is made a soldier, he raised a 
 regular army to garrison his strongholds, allowing every soldier 
 stationed on the frontier a portion of land for the support of 
 himself, his horse, and his family, thus interesting him in the 
 defence of the soil in which he had a property. These wise 
 precautions were justified by events. The Christians, profiting 
 by the dismemberment of the Moslem power, were rapidly 
 regaining their ancient territories. James the Conqueror had 
 subjected all Valencia, and Ferdinand the Saint sat down in 
 person before Jaen, the bulwark of Granada. Alhamar ven 
 tured to oppose him in open field, but met with a signal defeat, 
 and retired discomfited to his capital. Jaen still held out, and 
 kept the enemy at bay during an entire winter, but Ferdinand 
 swore not to raise his camp until he had gained possession of 
 the place. Alhamar found it impossible to throw reinforce 
 ments into the besieged city ; he saw that its fall must be fol 
 lowed by the investment of his capital, and was conscious of 
 the insufficiency of his means to cope with the potent sovereign 
 of Castile. Taking a sudden resolution, therefore, he repaired 
 privately to the Christian camp, made his unexpected appearance 
 in the presence of King Ferdinand, and frankly announced him 
 self as the king of Granada. " I come," said he, "confiding in 
 your good faith, to put myself under your protection. Take all 
 I possess and receive me as your vassal ; " so saying, he knelt 
 and kissed the king s hand in token of allegiance. 
 
 Ferdinand was won by this instance of confiding faith, and 
 
ALHAMAR 63 
 
 determined not to be outdone in generosity. He raised his late 
 enemy from the earth, embraced him as a friend, and, refusing 
 the wealth he offered, left him sovereign of his dominions, under 
 the feudal tenure of a yearly tribute, attendance at the Cortes 
 as one of the nobles of the empire, and service in war with a 
 certain number of horsemen. He moreover, conferred on him 
 the honor of knighthood, and armed him with his own hands. 
 
 It was not long after this that Alhamar was called upon for 
 his military services, to aid King Ferdinand in his famous siege 
 of Seville. The Moorish king sallied forth with five hundred 
 chosen horsemen of Granada, than whom none in the world 
 knew better how to manage the steed or wield the lance. It 
 was a humiliating service, however, for they had to draw the 
 sword against their brethren of the faith. 
 
 Alhamar gained a melancholy distinction by his prowess in 
 this renowned conquest, but more true honor by the humanity 
 which he prevailed upon Ferdinand to introduce into the usages 
 of war. When in 1248 the famous city of Seville surrendered to 
 the Castilian monarch, Alhamar returned sad and full of care to 
 his dominions. He saw the gathering ills that menaced the 
 Moslem cause ; and uttered an ejaculation often used by him 
 in moments of anxiety and trouble, " How straitened and 
 wretched would be our life, if our hope were not so spacious and 
 extensive." (Que angoste y miserabile seria nuestra vida, sino 
 fuera tan dilatada y espaciosa nuestra esperanza 1 ) 
 
 As he approached Granada on his return, he beheld arches of 
 triumph which had been erected in honor of his martial exploits. 
 The people thronged forth to see him with impatient joy, for 
 his benignant rule had won all hearts. Wherever he passed he 
 was hailed with acclamations as "El Ghalib ! " (the conqueror). 
 Alhamar gave a melancholy shake of the head on hearing the 
 appellation. " Wa le ghalib He Aldh!" (there is no conqueror 
 but God) exclaimed he. From that time forward this exclama 
 tion became his motto, and the motto of his descendants, and 
 
64 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 appears to this day emblazoned on his escutcheons in the halls 
 of the Alhambra. 
 
 Alhamar had purchased peace by submission to the Christian 
 yoke ; but he was conscious that, with elements so discordant 
 and motives for hostility so deep and ancient, it could not be 
 permanent. Acting, therefore, upon the old maxim, " Arm 
 thyself in peace and clothe thyself in summer," he improved the 
 present interval of tranquillity by fortifying his dominions, re 
 plenishing his arsenals, and promoting those useful arts which 
 give wealth and real power. He confided the command of his 
 various cities to such as had distinguished themselves by valor 
 and prudence, and who seemed most acceptable to the people. 
 He organized a vigilant police, and established rigid rules for the 
 administration of justice. The poor and the distressed always 
 found ready admission to his presence, and he attended person 
 ally to their assistance and redress. He erected hospitals for 
 the blind, the aged, and infirm, and all those incapable of labor, 
 and visited them frequently ; not on set days with pomp and 
 form, so as to give time for everything to be put in order, and 
 every abuse concealed, but suddenly, and unexpectedly, inform 
 ing himself, by actual observation and close inquiry, of the 
 treatment of the sick, and the conduct of those appointed to 
 administer to their relief. He founded schools and colleges, 
 which he visited in the same manner, inspecting personally the 
 instruction of the youth. He established butcheries and public 
 ovens, that the people might be furnished with wholesome pro 
 visions at just and regular prices. He introduced abundant 
 streams of water into the city, erecting baths and fountains, and 
 constructing aqueducts and canals to irrigate and fertilize the 
 Vega. By these means prosperity and abundance prevailed in 
 this beautiful city ; its gates were thronged with commerce, and 
 its warehouses filled with luxuries and merchandise of every 
 clime and country. 
 
 He moreover gave premiums and privileges to the best 
 
ALHAMAR 65 
 
 artisans ; improved the breed of horses and other domestic ani 
 mals ; encouraged husbandry ; and increased the natural fertility 
 of the soil twofold by his protection, making the lovely valleys 
 of his kingdom to bloom like gardens. He fostered also the 
 growth and fabrication of silk, until the looms of Granada sur 
 passed even those of Syria in the fineness and beauty of their 
 productions. He moreover caused the mines of gold and silver 
 and other metals, found in the mountainous regions of his 
 dominions, to be diligently worked, and was the first king of 
 Granada who struck money of gold and silver with his name, 
 taking great care that the coins should be skilfully executed. 
 
 It was towards the middle of the thirteenth century, and 
 just after his return from the siege of Seville, that he com 
 menced the splendid palace of the Alhambra ; superintending 
 the building of it in person ; mingling frequently among the 
 artists and workmen, and directing their labors. 
 
 Though thus magnificent in his works and great in his enter 
 prises, he was simple in his person and moderate in his enjoy 
 ments. His dress was not merely void of splendor, but so 
 plain as not to distinguish him from his subjects. His harem 
 boasted but few beauties, and these he visited but seldom, 
 though they were entertained with great magnificence. His 
 wives were daughters of the principal nobles, and were treated 
 by him as friends and rational companions. What is more, 
 he managed to make them live in friendship with one another. 
 He passed much of his time in his gardens ; especially in those 
 of the Alhambra, which he had stored with the rarest plants 
 and the most beautiful and aromatic flowers. Here he delighted 
 himself in reading histories, or in causing them to be read and 
 related to him, and sometimes, in intervals of leisure, employed 
 himself in the instruction of his three sons, for whom he had 
 provided the most learned and virtuous masters. 
 
 As he had frankly and voluntarily offered himself a tributary 
 vassal to Ferdinand, so he always remained loyal to his word, 
 
66 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 giving him repeated proofs of fidelity and attachment. When 
 that renowned monarch died in Seville in 1254, Alhainar sent 
 ambassadors to condole with his successor, Alonzo X., and 
 with them a gallant train of a hundred Moorish cavaliers 
 of distinguished rank, who were to attend round the royal bier 
 during the funeral ceremonies, each bearing a lighted taper. 
 This grand testimonial of respect was repeated by the Moslem 
 monarch during the remainder of his life on each anniversary 
 of the death of King Ferdinand el Santo, when the hundred 
 Moorish knights repaired from Granada to Seville, and took 
 their stations with lighted tapers in the centre of the sumptuous 
 cathedral round the cenotaph of the illustrious deceased. 
 
 Alhamar retained his faculties and vigor to an advanced age. 
 In his seventy-ninth year (A.D. 1272) he took the field on 
 horseback, accompanied by the flower of his chivalry, to resist 
 an invasion of his territories. As the army sallied forth from 
 Granada, one of the principal adalides, or guides, who rode in 
 the advance, accidentally broke his lance against the arch of the 
 gate. The counsellors of the king, alarmed by this circum 
 stance, which was considered an evil omen, entreated him to 
 return. Their supplications were in vain. The king persisted, 
 and at noontide the omen, say the Moorish chroniclers, was 
 fatally fulfilled. Alhamar was suddenly struck with illness, 
 and had nearly fallen from his horse. He was placed on a 
 litter, and borne back towards Granada, but his illness in 
 creased to such a degree that they were obliged to pitch his 
 tent in the Vega. His physicians were filled with consternation, 
 not knowing what remedy to prescribe. In a few hours he 
 died, vomiting blood and in violent convulsions. The Castilian 
 prince, Don Philip, brother of Alonzo X., was by his side when 
 he expired. His body was embalmed, enclosed in a silver coffin, 
 and buried in the Alhambra in a sepulchre of precious marble, 
 amidst the unfeigned lamentations of his subjects who bewailed 
 him as a parent. 
 
ALHAMAE 67 
 
 I have said that he was the first of the illustrious line of 
 Nasar that sat upon a throne. . I may add that he was the 
 founder of a brilliant kingdom which will ever be famous in 
 history and romance as the last rallying-place of Moslem power 
 and splendor in the Peninsula. Though his undertakings were 
 vast, and his expenditures immense, yet his treasury was always 
 full ; and this seeming contradiction gave rise to the story that 
 he was versed in magic art, and possessed of the secret for 
 transmuting baser metals into gold. Those who have attended 
 to his domestic policy, as here set forth, will easily understand 
 the natural magic and simple alchemy which made his ample 
 treasury to overflow. 
 
 1 Et porque era muy rubio llamaban lo los Moros Abenalhamar, 
 que quiere decir bermejo . . . et porque los Moros lo llamaban 
 Benalhamar que quiere decir bermejo tomo los senales bermejos, 
 segun que los ovieron despues los Reyes de Granada. BLEDA, 
 Cronica de Alfonso XL, P.I.C. 44. 
 
 YUSEF ABUL HAGIG 
 
 THE FINISHER OF THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 To the foregoing particulars, concerning the Moslem princes 
 who once reigned in these halls, I shall add a brief notice of the 
 monarch who completed and embellished the Alhambra. Yusef 
 Abul Hagig (or, as it is sometimes written, Haxis) was another 
 prince of the noble line of Nasar. He ascended the throne of 
 Granada in the year of grace 1333, and is described by Moslem 
 writers as having a noble presence, great bodily strength, and a 
 fair complexion ; and the majesty of his countenance increased, 
 say they, by suffering his beard to grow to a dignified length and 
 dyeing it black. His manners were gentle, affable, and urbane ; 
 he carried the benignity of his nature into warfare, prohibiting 
 
68 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 all wanton cruelty, and enjoining mercy and protection towards 
 women and children, the aged and infirm, and all friars and 
 other persons of holy and recluse life. But though he possessed 
 the courage common to generous spirits, the bent of his genius 
 was more for peace than war, and though repeatedly obliged by 
 circumstances to take up arms, he was generally unfortunate. 
 
 Among other ill-starred enterprises, he undertook a great cam 
 paign, in conjunction with the king of Morocco, against the 
 kings of Castile and Portugal, but was defeated in the memo 
 rable battle of Salado, which had nearly proved a death-blow to 
 the Moslem power in Spain. 
 
 Yusef obtained a long truce after this defeat, and now his 
 character shone forth in its true lustre. He had an excellent 
 memory, and had stored his mind with science and erudition ; 
 his taste was altogether elegant and refined, and he was accounted 
 the best poet of his time. Devoting himself to the instruction 
 of his people and the improvement of their morals and manners, 
 he established schools in all the villages, with simple and uni 
 form systems of education; he obliged every hamlet of more 
 than twelve houses to have a mosque, and purified the cere 
 monies of religion, and the festivals and popular amusements, 
 from various abuses and indecorums which had crept into them. 
 He attended vigilantly to the police of the city, establishing noc 
 turnal guards and patrols, and superintending all municipal con 
 cerns. His attention was also directed toward finishing the great 
 architectural works commenced by his predecessors, and erecting 
 others on his own plans. The Alhambra, which had been founded 
 by the good Alhamar, was now completed. Yusef constructed 
 the beautiful Gate of Justice, forming the grand entrance to the 
 fortress, which he finished in 1348. He likewise adorned many 
 of the courts and halls of the palace, as may be seen by the in 
 scriptions on the walls, in which his name repeatedly occurs. 
 He built also the noble Alcazar or citadel of Malaga, now un 
 fortunately a mere mass of crumbling ruins, but which most 
 
TUSEF ABUL HAGIG 69 
 
 probably exhibited in its interior similar elegance and magnifi 
 cence with the Alhambra. 
 
 The genius of a sovereign stamps a character upon his time. 
 The nobles of Granada, imitating the elegant and graceful taste 
 of Yusef, soon filled the city of Granada with magnificent pal 
 aces ; the halls of which were paved with Mosaic, the walls and 
 ceilings wrought in fretwork, and delicately gilded and painted 
 with azure, vermilion, and other brilliant colors, or minutely in 
 laid with cedar and other precious woods ; specimens of which 
 have survived, in all their lustre, the lapse of several centuries. 
 Many of the houses had fountains, which threw up jets of water 
 to refresh and cool the air. They had lofty towers, also, of wood 
 or stone, curiously carved and ornamented, and covered with 
 plates of metal that glittered in the sun. Such was the refined 
 and delicate taste in architecture that prevailed among this ele 
 gant people ; insomuch that, to use the beautiful simile of an 
 Arabian writer, " Granada, in the days of Yusef, was as a silver 
 vase filled with emeralds and jacinths." 
 
 One anecdote will be sufficient to show the magnanimity of 
 this generous prince. The long truce which had succeeded the 
 battle of Salado was at an end, and every effort of Yusef to re 
 new it was in vain. His deadly foe, Alfonzo XI. of Castile, 
 took the field with great force, and laid siege to Gibraltar. 
 Yusef reluctantly took up arms, and sent troops to the relief of 
 the place. In the midst of his anxiety he received tidings that 
 his dreaded foe had suddenly fallen a victim to the plague. In 
 stead of manifesting exultation on the occasion, Yusef called to 
 mind the great qualities of the deceased, and was touched with 
 a noble sorrow. " Alas ! " cried he, " the world has lost one 
 of its most excellent princes; a sovereign who knew how to 
 honor merit, whether in friend or foe ! " 
 
 The Spanish chroniclers themselves bear witness to this 
 magnanimity. According to their accounts, the Moorish cava 
 liers partook of the sentiment of their king, and put on mourn- 
 
70 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 ing for the death of Alfonzo. Even those of Gibraltar, who 
 had been so closely invested, when they knew that the hostile 
 monarch lay dead in his camp, determined among themselves 
 that no hostile movement should be made against the Christians. 
 The day on which the camp was broken up, and the army de 
 parted bearing the corpse of Alfonzo, the Moors issued in multi 
 tudes from Gibraltar, and stood mute and melancholy, watching 
 the mournful pageant. The same reverence for the deceased 
 was observed by all the Moorish commanders on the frontiers, 
 who suffered the funeral train to pass in safety, bearing the 
 corpse of the Christian sovereign from Gibraltar to Seville. 1 
 
 Yusef did not long survive the enemy he had so generously 
 deplored. In the year 1354, as he was one day praying in the 
 royal mosque of the Alhambra, a maniac rushed suddenly from 
 behind and plunged a dagger in his side. The cries of the king 
 brought his guards and courtiers to his assistance. They found 
 him weltering in his blood. He made some signs as if to speak, 
 but his words were unintelligible. They bore him senseless to 
 the royal apartments, where he expired almost immediately. 
 The murderer was cut to pieces, and his limbs burnt in public 
 to gratify the fury of the populace. 
 
 The body of the king was interred in a superb sepulchre of 
 white marble ; a long epitaph, in letters of gold upon an azure 
 ground, recorded his virtues. " Here lies a king and martyr, of 
 an illustrious line, gentle, learned, and virtuous; renowned for 
 the graces of his person and his manners ; whose clemency, 
 piety, and benevolence were extolled throughout the kingdom of 
 Granada. He was a great prince; an illustrious captain; a 
 sharp sword of the Moslems ; a valiant standard-bearer among 
 the most potent rnonarchs," &c. 
 
 The mosque still exists which once resounded with the dying 
 cries of Yusef, but the monument which recorded his virtues 
 has long since disappeared. His name, however, remains in 
 scribed among the delicate and graceful ornaments of the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS CHAMBERS 71 
 
 Alhambra, and will be perpetuated in connection with this 
 renowned pile, which it was his pride and delight to beautify. 
 
 1 " Y los moros que estaban en la villa y Castillo de Gibraltar 
 despues que sopieron que el Key Don Alonzo era muerto, ordenaron 
 entresi que niriguno non fuesse osado de fazer ningun movimiento 
 contra los Christianos, ni mover pelear contra ellos, estovieron 
 todos quedos y dezian entre ellos qui aquel diamuriera un noble 
 rey y Gran principe del mundo." 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS CHAMBERS 
 
 As I was rambling one day about the Moorish halls, my 
 attention was, for the first time, attracted to a door in a remote 
 gallery, communicating apparently with some part of the Al 
 hambra which I had not yet explored. I attempted to open it, 
 but it was locked. I knocked, but no one answered, and the 
 sound seemed to reverberate through empty chambers. Here 
 then was a mystery. Here was the haunted wing of the castle. 
 How was I to get at the dark secrets here shut up from the 
 public eye 1 Should I come privately at night with lamp and 
 sword, according to the prying custom of heroes of romance ; or 
 should I endeavor to draw the secret from Pdpe the stuttering 
 gardener; or the ingenuous Dolores, or the loquacious Mateo ? 
 Or should I go frankly and openly to Dame Antonia the chate 
 laine, and ask her all about it 1 I chose the latter course, as 
 being the simplest though the least romantic ; and found, some 
 what to my disappointment, that there was no mystery in the 
 case. I was welcome to explore the apartment, and there was 
 the key. 
 
 Thus provided, I returned forthwith to the door. It opened, 
 as I had surmised, to a range of vacant chambers ; but they 
 were quite different from the rest of the palace. The archi 
 tecture, though rich and antiquated, was European. There 
 
72 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 was nothing Moorish about it. The first two rooms were lofty \ 
 the ceilings, broken in many places, were of cedar, deeply pan 
 elled and skilfully carved with fruits and flowers, intermingled 
 with grotesque masks or faces. 
 
 The walls had evidently in ancient times been hung with 
 damask ; but now were naked, and scrawled over by that class 
 of aspiring travellers who defile noble monuments with their 
 worthless names. The windows, dismantled and open to wind 
 and weather, looked out into a charming little secluded garden, 
 where an alabaster fountain sparkled among roses and myrtles, 
 and was surrounded by orange and citron trees, some of which 
 flung their branches into the chambers. Beyond these rooms 
 were two saloons, longer but less lofty, looking also into the 
 garden. In the compartments of the panelled ceilings were 
 baskets of fruit and garlands of flowers, painted by no mean 
 hand, and in tolerable preservation. The walls also had been 
 painted in fresco in the Italian style, but the paintings were 
 nearly obliterated; the windows were in the same shattered 
 state with those of the other chambers. This fanciful suite 
 of rooms terminated in an open gallery with balustrades, run 
 ning at right angles along another side of the garden. The 
 whole apartment, so delicate and elegant in its decorations, so 
 choice and sequestered in its situation along this retired little 
 garden, and so different in architecture from the neighboring 
 halls, awakened an interest in its history. I found on inquiry 
 that it was an apartment fitted up by Italian artists in the early 
 part of the last century, at the time when Philip V. and his 
 second wife, the beautiful Elizabetta of Farnese, daughter of 
 the Duke of Parma, were expected at the Alhambra. It was 
 destined for the queen and the ladies of her train. One of 
 the loftiest chambers had been her sleeping-room. A narrow 
 staircase, now walled up, led up to a delightful belvidere, 
 originally a mirador of the Moorish sultanas, communicating 
 with the harem ; but which was fitted up as a boudoir for the 
 
LINDARAXA 73 
 
 fair Elizabetta, and still retains the name of el tocador de la 
 Reyna, or the queen s toilette. 
 
 One window of the royal sleeping-room commanded a pros 
 pect of the Generalife and its embowered terraces ; another 
 looked out into the little secluded garden I have mentioned, 
 which was decidedly Moorish in its character, and also had its 
 history. It was in fact the garden of Lindaraxa, so often 
 mentioned in descriptions of the Alhambra, but who this 
 Lindaraxa was I had never heard explained. A little research 
 gave me the few particulars known about her. She was a 
 Moorish beauty who flourished in the court of Muhamed the 
 Left-Handed, and was the daughter of his loyal adherent, the 
 alcayde of Malaga, who sheltered him in his city when driven 
 from the throne. On regaining his crown, the alcayde was 
 rewarded for his fidelity. His daughter had her apartment 
 in the Alhambra, and was given by the king in marriage to 
 Nasar, a young Cetimerien prince descended from Aben Hud 
 the Just. Their espousals were doubtless celebrated in the 
 royal palace, and their honeymoon may have passed among 
 these very bowers. 1 
 
 Four centuries had elapsed since the fair Lindaraxa passed 
 away, yet how much of the fragile beauty of the scenes she 
 inhabited remained ! The garden still bloomed in which she 
 delighted; the fountain still presented the crystal mirror in 
 which her charms may once have been reflected ; the alabaster, 
 it is true, had lost its whiteness ; the basin beneath, overrun 
 with weeds, had become the lurking-place of the lizard, but 
 there was something in the very decay that enhanced the in 
 terest of the scene, speaking as it did of that mutability, the 
 irrevocable lot of man and all his works. 
 
 The desolation too of these chambers, once the abode of the 
 proud and elegant Elizabetta, had a more touching charm for 
 me than if I had beheld them in their pristine splendor, glit 
 tering with the pageantry of a court. 
 
74- THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 When I returned to my quarters, in the governor s apart 
 ment, everything seemed tame and commonplace after the 
 poetic region I had left. The thought suggested itself : Why 
 could I not change my quarters to these vacant chambers 1 
 That would indeed be living in the Alhambra, surrounded by 
 its gardens and fountains, as in the time of the Moorish sover 
 eigns. I proposed the change to Dame Antonia and her family, 
 and it occasioned vast surprise. They could not conceive any 
 rational inducement for the choice of an apartment so forlorn, 
 remote, and solitary. Dolores exclaimed at its frightful loneli 
 ness ; nothing but bats and owls flitting about, and then 
 a fox and wildcat kept in the vaults of the neighboring baths, 
 and roamed about at night. The good Tia had more reason 
 able objections. The neighborhood was infested by vagrants ; 
 gipsies swarmed in the caverns of the adjacent hills ; the pal 
 ace was ruinous and easy to be entered in many places ; the 
 rumor of a stranger quartered alone in one of the remote and 
 ruined apartments, out of the hearing of the rest of the in 
 habitants, might tempt unwelcome visitors in the night, espe 
 cially as foreigners were always supposed to be well stocked 
 with money. I was not to be diverted from my humor, how 
 ever, and my will was law with those good people. So, call 
 ing in the assistance of a carpenter, and the ever officious 
 Mateo Ximenes, the doors and windows were soon placed in a 
 state of tolerable security, and the sleeping-room of the stately 
 Elizabetta prepared for my reception. Mateo kindly volun 
 teered as a body-guard to sleep in my an te- chamber ; but I 
 did not think it worth while to put his valor to the proof. 
 
 With all the hardihood I had assumed and all the pre 
 cautions I had taken, I must confess the first night passed in 
 these quarters was inexpressibly dreary. I do not think it was 
 so much the apprehension of dangers from without that affected 
 me, as the character of the place itself, with all its strange 
 associations : the deeds of violence committed there ; the tragi- 
 
THE FIRST NIGHT 75 
 
 cal ends of many of those who had once reigned there in splen 
 dor. As I passed beneath the fated halls of the tower of 
 Comares on the way to my chamber, I called to mind a quota 
 tion that used to thrill me in the days of boyhood : 
 
 " Fate sits on these dark battlements and frowns; 
 And, as the portal opens to receive me, 
 A voice in sullen echoes through the courts 
 Tells of a nameless deed! " 
 
 The whole family escorted me to my chamber, and took leave 
 of me as of one engaged on a perilous enterprise ; and when I 
 heard their retreating steps die away along the waste ante 
 chambers and echoing galleries; and turned the key of my 
 door, I was reminded of those hobgoblin stories, where the hero 
 is left to accomplish the adventure of an enchanted house. 
 
 Even the thoughts of the fair Elizabetta and the beauties of 
 her court, who had once graced these chambers, now, by a per 
 version of fancy, added to the gloom. Here was the scene 
 of their transient gayety and loveliness ; here were the very 
 traces of their elegance and enjoyment ; but what and where 
 were they 1 Dust and ashes ! tenants of the tomb ! phantoms 
 of the memory ! 
 
 A vague and indescribable awe was creeping over me. I 
 would fain have ascribed it to the thoughts of robbers awakened 
 by the evening s conversation, but I felt it was something more 
 unreal and absurd. The long-buried superstitions of the 
 nursery were reviving, and asserting their power over my 
 imagination. Everything began to be affected by the working 
 of my mind. The whispering of the wind among the citron- 
 trees beneath my window had something sinister. I cast my 
 eyes into the garden of Lindaraxa ; the groves presented a gulf 
 of shadows ; the thickets, indistinct and ghastly shapes. I was 
 glad to close the window, but my chamber itself became in 
 fected. There was a slight rustling noise overhead ; a bat 
 suddenly emerged from a broken panel of the ceiling, flitting 
 
76 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 about the room and athwart my solitary lamp ; and as the 
 fateful bird almost flouted my face with his noiseless wing, the 
 grotesque faces carved in high relief in the cedar ceiling, whence 
 he had emerged, seemed to mope and mow at me. 
 
 Rousing myself, and half smiling at this temporary weakness, 
 I resolved to brave it out in the true spirit of the hero of the 
 enchanted house; so, taking lamp in hand, I sallied forth to 
 make a tour of the palace. Notwithstanding every mental 
 exertion the task was a severe one. I had to traverse waste 
 halls and mysterious galleries, where the rays of the lamp 
 extended but a short distance around me. I walked, as it 
 were, in a mere halo of light, walled in by impenetrable dark 
 ness. The vaulted corridors were as caverns ; the ceilings of 
 the halls were lost in gloom. I recalled all that had been said 
 of the danger from interlopers in these remote and ruined 
 apartments. Might not some vagrant foe be lurking before or 
 behind me, in the outer darkness ? My own shadow, cast upon 
 the wall, began to disturb me. The echoes of my own foot 
 steps along the corridors made me pause and look around. I 
 was traversing scenes fraught with dismal recollections. One 
 dark passage led down to the mosque where Yusef, the Moor 
 ish monarch, the finisher of the Alhambra, had been basely 
 murdered. In another place I trod the gallery where an 
 other monarch had been struck down by the poniard of a 
 relative whom he had thwarted in his love. 
 
 A low murmuring sound, as of stifled voices and clanking 
 chains, now reached me. It seemed to come from the Hall 
 of the Abencerrages. I knew it to be the rush of water 
 through subterranean channels, but it sounded strangely in the 
 night, and reminded me of the dismal stories to which it had 
 given rise. 
 
 Soon, however, my ear was assailed by sounds too fearfully 
 real to be the work of fancy. As I was crossing the Hall of 
 Ambassadors, low moans and broken ejaculations rose, as it 
 
THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT 77 
 
 were, from beneath my feet. I paused and listened. They 
 then appeared to be outside of the tower then again within. 
 Then broke forth bowlings as of an animal then stifled 
 shrieks and inarticulate ravings. Heard in that dead hour and 
 singular place, the effect was thrilling. I had no desire for 
 further perambulation; but returned to my chamber with 
 infinitely more alacrity than I had sallied forth, and drew my 
 breath more freely when once more within its walls and 
 the door bolted behind me. When I awoke in the morning, 
 with the sun shining in at my window and lighting up every 
 part of the building with his cheerful and truth-telling beams, 
 I could scarcely recall the shadows and fancies conjured up by 
 the gloom of the preceding night; or believe that the scenes 
 around me, so naked and apparent, could have been clothed 
 with such imaginary horrors. 
 
 Still, the dismal bowlings and ejaculations I had heard were 
 not ideal ; they were soon accounted for, however, by my hand 
 maid Dolores : being the ravings of a poor maniac, a brother 
 of her aunt, who was subject to violent paroxysms, during 
 which he was confined in a vaulted room beneath the Hall of 
 Ambassadors. 
 
 In the course of a few evenings a thorough change took place 
 in the scene and its associations. The moon, which when I 
 took possession of my new apartments was invisible, gradually 
 gained each evening upon the darkness of the night, and at 
 length rolled in full splendor above the towers, pouring a flood 
 of tempered light into every court and hall. The garden 
 beneath my window, before wrapped in gloom, was gently 
 lighted up ; the orange and citron trees were tipped with sil 
 ver ; the fountain sparkled in the moonbeams, and even the 
 blush of the rose was faintly visible. 
 
 I now felt the poetic merit of the Arabic inscription on the 
 walls, " How beauteous is this garden; where the flowers of 
 the earth vie with the stars of heaven. What can compare 
 
78 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 with the vase of yon alabaster fountain filled with crystal water 1 
 nothing but the moon in her fulness, shining in the midst of an 
 unclouded sky ! " 
 
 On such heavenly nights I would sit for hours at my window 
 inhaling the sweetness of the garden, and musing on the check 
 ered fortunes of those whose history was dimly shadowed out in 
 the elegant memorials around. Sometimes, when all was quiet, 
 and the clock from the distant cathedral of Granada struck the 
 midnight hour, I have sallied out on another tour and wandered 
 over the whole building ; but how different from my first tour : 
 No longer dark and mysterious ; no longer peopled with shadowy 
 foes ; no longer recalling scenes of violence and murder ; all was 
 open, spacious, beautiful ; everything called up pleasing and 
 romantic fancies ; Lindaraxa once more walked in her garden ; 
 the gay chivalry % of Moslem Granada once more glittered about 
 the Court of Lions ! Who can do justice to a moonlight night 
 in such a place ? The temperature of a summer midnight in 
 Andalusia is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a purer 
 atmosphere ; we feel a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirits, 
 an elasticity of frame, which render mere existence happiness. 
 But when moonlight is added to all this, the effect is like en 
 chantment. Under its plastic sway the Alhambra seems to 
 regain its pristine glories. Every rent and chasm of time ; every 
 mouldering tint and weather-stain is gone ; the marble resumes 
 its original whiteness ; the long colonnades brighten in the moon 
 beams ; the halls are illuminated with a softened radiance, 
 we tread the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale ! 
 
 What a delight, at such a time, to ascend to the little airy 
 pavilion of the queen s toilet (el tocador de la reyna), which, 
 like a bird-cage, overhangs the valley of the Darro, and gaze 
 from its light arcades upon the moonlight prospect ! To the 
 right, the swelling mountains of the Sierra Nevada, robbed of 
 their ruggedness and softened into a fairy land, with their snowy 
 summits gleaming like silver clouds against the deep blue sky. 
 
PANORAMA FROM THE TOWER OF COM ARES 79 
 
 And then to lean over the parapet of the Tocador and gaze down 
 upon Granada and the Albaycin spread out like a map below ; 
 all buried in deep repose ; the white palaces and convents sleep 
 ing in the moonshine, and beyond all these the vapory Vega 
 fading away like a dreamland in the distance. 
 
 Sometimes the faint click of castanets rises from the Alameda, 
 where some gay Andalusians are dancing away the summer 
 night. Sometimes the dubious tones of a guitar and the notes 
 of an amorous voice, tell perchance the whereabout of some 
 moonstruck lover serenading his lady s window. 
 
 Such is a faint picture of the moonlight nights I have passed 
 loitering about the courts and halls and balconies of this most 
 suggestive pile; " feeding my fancy with sugared suppositions," 
 and enjoying that mixture of reverie and sensation which steal 
 away existence in a southern climate ; so that it has been al 
 most morning before I have retired to bed, and been lulled to 
 sleep by the falling waters of the fountain of Lindaraxa. 
 
 1 Una de las cosas en que tienen precisa intervencion los Reyes 
 Moros as en el matrimonio de sus grandes : de aqui nace que todos 
 los senores llegadas a la persona real si casan en palacio, y siempre 
 huvo su quarto destinado para esta ceremonia. 
 
 One of the things in which the Moorish kings interfered was in 
 the marriage of their nobles : hence it came that all the seiiors 
 attached to the royal person were married in the palace ; and there 
 was always a chamber destined for the ceremony. Paseos por 
 Granada, Paseo XXI. 
 
 PANORAMA FROM THE TOWER OF COMARES 
 
 * 
 
 IT is a serene and beautiful morning : the sun has not gained 
 sufficient power to destroy the freshness of the night. What a 
 morning to mount to the summit of the Tower of Comares, and 
 take a bird s-eye view of Granada and its environs ! 
 
 Come then, worthy reader and comrade, follow my footsteps 
 
80 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 into this vestibule, ornamented with rich tracery, which opens 
 into the Hall of Ambassadors. We will not enter the hall, 
 however, but turn to this small door opening into the wall 
 Have a care ! here are steep winding steps and but scanty 
 light ; yet up this narrow, obscure, and spiral staircase, the 
 proud monarchs of Granada and their queens have often as 
 cended to the battlements to watch the approach of invading 
 armies, or gaze with anxious hearts on the battles in the Vega. 
 
 At length we have reached the terraced roof, and may take 
 breath for a moment, while we cast a general eye over the splen 
 did panorama of city and country ; of rocky mountain, verdant 
 valley, and fertile plain ; of castle, cathedral, Moorish towers, 
 and Gothic domes, crumbling ruins, and blooming groves. Let 
 us approach the battlements, and cast our eyes immediately below. 
 See, on this side we have the whole plain of the Alhambra laid 
 open to us, and can look down into its courts and gardens. At 
 the foot of the tower is the Court of the Alberca, with its great 
 tank or fishpool, bordered with flowers and yonder is the Court 
 of Lions, with its famous fountain, and its light Moorish arcades ; 
 and in the centre of the pile is the little garden of Lindaraxa, 
 buried in the heart of the building, with its roses and citrons 
 and shrubbery of emerald green. 
 
 That belt of battlements, studded with square towers, strag 
 gling round the whole brow of the hill, is the outer boundary 
 of the fortress. Some of the towers, you may perceive, are in 
 ruins, and their massive fragments buried among vines, fig- 
 trees, and aloes. 
 
 Let us look on this northern side of the tower. It is a giddy 
 height ; the very foundations of the towef rise above the groves 
 of the steep hill-side. And see ! a long fissure in the massive 
 walls shows that the tower has been rent by some of the earth 
 quakes which from time to time have thrown Granada into 
 consternation ; and which, sooner or later, must reduce this 
 crumbling pile to a mere mass of ruin. The deep narrow glen 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE DARRO 81 
 
 below us, which gradually widens as it opens from the mountains, 
 is the valley of the Darro ; you see the little river winding its 
 way under embowered terraces, and among orchards and flower- 
 gardens. It is a stream famous in old times for yielding gold, 
 and its sands are still sifted occasionally, in search of the pre 
 cious ore. Some of those white pavilions, which here and there 
 gleam from among groves and vineyards, were rustic retreats of 
 the Moors, to enjoy the refreshments of their gardens. Well 
 have they been compared by one of their poets to so many pearls 
 set in a bed of emeralds. 
 
 The airy palace, with its tall white towers and long arcades, 
 which breasts yon mountain, among pompous groves and hang 
 ing gardens, is the Generalise, a summer palace of the Moorish 
 kings, to which they resorted during the sultry months to enjoy 
 a still more breezy region than that of the Alhambra. The 
 naked summit of the height above it, where you behold some 
 shapeless ruins, is the Silla del Moro, or seat of the Moor, so 
 called from having been a retreat of the unfortunate Boabdil 
 during the time of an insurrection, where he seated himself, 
 and looked down mournfully upon his rebellious city. 
 
 A murmuring sound of water now and then rises from the 
 valley. It is from the aqueduct of yon Moorish mill, nearly at 
 the foot of the hill. The avenue of trees bej r ond is the Ala- 
 meda, along the bank of the Darro ; a favorite resort in even 
 ings, and a rendezvous of lovers in the summer nights, when 
 the guitar may be heard at a late hour from the benches along 
 its walks. At present you see none but a few loitering monks 
 there, and a group of water-carriers. The latter are burdened 
 with water-jars of ancient Oriental construction, such as were 
 used by the Moors. They have been filled at the cold and lim 
 pid spring called the fountain of Avellanos. Yon mountain 
 path leads to the fountain, a favorite resort of Moslems as well 
 as Christians ; for this is said to be the Adinamar (Aynu-1- 
 adamar), the "Fountain of Tears," mentioned by Ibn 
 
82 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the traveller, and celebrated in the histories and romances of 
 the Moors. 
 
 You start ! tis nothing but a hawk that we have frightened 
 from his nest. This old tower is a complete breeding-place for 
 vagrant birds ; the swallow and martlet abound in every chink 
 and cranny, and circle about it the whole day long ; while at 
 night, when all other birds have gone to rest, the moping owl 
 comes out of its lurking-place, and utters its boding cry from 
 the battlements. See how the hawk we have dislodged sweeps 
 away below us, skimming over the tops of the trees, and sailing 
 up to the ruins above the Generalife ! 
 
 I see you raise your eyes to the snowy summit of yon pile of 
 mountains, shining like a white summer cloud in the blue sky. 
 It is the Sierra Nevada, the pride and delight of Granada ; the 
 source of her cooling breezes and perpetual verdure; of her 
 gushing fountains and perennial streams. It is this glorious 
 pile of mountains which gives to Granada that combination of 
 delights so rare in a southern city, the fresh vegetation and 
 temperate airs of a northern climate, with the vivifying ardor 
 of a tropical sun, and the cloudless azure of a southern sky. It 
 is this aerial treasury of snow, which, melting in proportion to 
 the increase of the summer heat, sends down rivulets and streams 
 through every glen and gorge of the Alpuxarras, diffusing em 
 erald verdure and fertility throughout a chain of happy and 
 sequestered valleys. 
 
 Those mountains may be well called the glory of Granada. 
 They dominate the whole extent of Andalusia, and may be seen 
 from its most distant parts. The muleteer hails them, as he 
 views their frosty peaks from the sultry level of the plain ; and 
 the Spanish mariner on the deck of his bark, far, far off on the 
 bosom of the blue Mediterranean, watches them with a pensive 
 eye, thinks of delightful Granada, and chants, in low voice, 
 some old romance about the Moors. 
 
 See to the south at the foot of those mountains a line of arid 
 
SANTA FE 83 
 
 hills, down which a long train of mules is slowly moving. Here 
 was the closing scene of Moslem domination. From the summit 
 of one of those hills the unfortunate Boabdil cast back his last 
 look upon Granada, and gave vent to the agony of his soul. It 
 is the spot famous in song and story, " The last sigh of the 
 Moor." 
 
 Further this way these arid hills slope down into the luxu 
 rious Vega, from which he had just emerged : a blooming wilder 
 ness of grove and garden, and teeming orchard, with the Xenil 
 winding through it in silver links, and feeding innumerable rills ; 
 which, conducted through ancient Moorish channels, maintain 
 the landscape in perpetual verdure. Here were the beloved 
 bowers and gardens, and rural pavilions, for which the unfortu 
 nate Moors fought with such desperate valor. The very hovels 
 and rude granges, now inhabited by boors, show, by the remains 
 of arabesques and other tasteful decoration, that they were 
 elegant residences in the days of the Moslems. Behold, in the 
 very centre of this eventful plain, a place which in a manner 
 links the history of the Old World with that of the New. Yon 
 line of walls and towers gleaming in the morning sun, is the 
 city of Santa Fe, built by the Catholic sovereigns during the 
 siege of Granada, after a conflagration had destroyed their camp. 
 It was to these walls Columbus was called back by the heroic 
 queen, and within them the treaty was concluded which led to 
 the discovery of the Western World. Behind yon promontory 
 to the west is the bridge of Pinos, renowned for many a bloody 
 fight between Moors and Christians. At this bridge the mes 
 senger overtook Columbus when, despairing of success with the 
 Spanish sovereigns, he was departing to carry his project of dis 
 covery to the court of France. 
 
 Above the bridge a range of mountains bounds the Vega to 
 the west, the ancient barrier between Granada and the Chris 
 tian territories. Among their heights you may still discern 
 warrior towns ; their gray walls and battlements seeming of a 
 
84 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 piece with the rocks on which they are built. Here and there 
 a solitary atalaya, or watchtower, perched on a mountain peak, 
 looks down as it were from the sky into the valley on either 
 side. How often have these atalayas given notice, by fire at 
 night or srnoke by day, of an approaching foe ! It was down a 
 cragged defile of these mountains, called the Pass of Lope, that 
 the Christian armies descended into the Vega. Round the base 
 of yon gray and naked mountain (the mountain of Elvira), stretch 
 ing its bold rocky promontory into the bosom of the plain, the 
 invading squadrons would come bursting into view, with flaunt 
 ing banners and clangor of drum and trumpet. 
 
 Five hundred years have elapsed since Ismael ben Ferrag, a 
 Moorish king of Granada, beheld from this very tower an in 
 vasion of the kind, and an insulting ravage of the Vega ; on 
 which occasion he displayed an instance of chivalrous magna 
 nimity, often witnessed in the Moslem princes ; " whose his 
 tory," says an Arabian writer, "abounds in generous actions and 
 noble deeds that will last through all succeeding ages, and live 
 forever in the memory of man." But let us sit down on this 
 parapet, and I will relate the anecdote. 
 
 It was in the year of Grace 1319, that Ismael ben Ferrag 
 beheld from this tower a Christian camp whitening the skirts 
 of yon mountain of Elvira. The royal princes, Don Juan and 
 Don Pedro, regents of Castile during the minority of Alphonso 
 XL, had already laid waste the country from Alcaudete to 
 Alcala la Real, capturing the castle of Illora, and setting fire 
 to its suburbs, and they now carried their insulting ravages to 
 the very gates of Granada, defying the king to sally forth and 
 give them battle. 
 
 Ismael, though a young and intrepid prince, hesitated to 
 accept the challenge. He had not sufficient force at hand, 
 and awaited the arrival of troops summoned from the neighbor 
 ing towns. The Christian princes, mistaking his motives, gave 
 up all hope of drawing him forth, and having glutted themselves 
 
ISMAEL BEN FEREAG 85 
 
 with ravage, struck their tents and began their homeward march. 
 Don Pedro led the van, and Don Juan brought up the rear, but 
 their march was confused and irregular, the army being greatly 
 encumbered by the spoils and captives they had taken. 
 
 By this time King Ismael had received his expected resources, 
 and putting them under the command of Osmyn, one of the 
 bravest of his generals, sent them forth in hot pursuit of the en 
 emy. The Christians were overtaken in the defiles of the moun 
 tains. A panic seized them; they were completely routed, 
 and driven with great slaughter across the borders. Both of 
 the princes lost their lives. The body of Don Pedro was 
 carried off by his soldiers, but that of Don Juan was lost in 
 the darkness of the night. His son wrote to the Moorish king, 
 entreating that the body of his father might be sought and 
 honorably treated. Ismael forgot in a moment that Don Juan 
 was an enemy, who had carried ravage and insult to the very 
 gate of his capital ; he only thought of him as a gallant cavalier 
 and a royal prince: By his command diligent search was made 
 for the body. It was found in a barranco and brought to 
 Granada. There Ismael caused it to be laid out in state on a 
 lofty bier, surrounded by torches and tapers, in one of these 
 halls of the Alhambra. Osmyn and other of the noblest cava 
 liers were appointed as a guard of honor, and the Christian cap 
 tives were assembled to pray around it. 
 
 In the meantime, Ismael wrote to the son of Prince Juan to 
 send a convoy for the body, assuring him it should be faithfully 
 delivered up. In due time, a band of Christian cavaliers arrived 
 for the purpose. They were honorably received and entertained 
 by Ismael, and, on their departure with the body, the guard of 
 honor of Moslem cavaliers escorted the funeral train to the frontier. 
 
 But enough ; the sun is high above the mountains, and 
 pours his full fervor on our heads. Already the terraced roof 
 is hot beneath our feet ; let us abandon it, and refresh ourselves 
 under the Arcades by the Fountain of the Lions. 
 
86 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 THE TRUANT 
 
 WE have had a scene of a petty tribulation in the Alhambra, 
 which has thrown a cloud over the sunny countenance of 
 Dolores. This little damsel has a female passion for pets of all 
 kinds ; and from the superabundant kindness of her disposition 
 one of the ruined courts of the Alhambra is thronged with her 
 favorites. A stately peacock and his hen seem to hold regal 
 sway here, over pompous turkeys, querulous guinea-fowls, and 
 a rabble rout of common cocks and hens. The great delight of 
 Dolores, however, has for some time past been centred in a 
 youthful pair of pigeons, who have lately entered into the holy 
 state of wedlock, and even supplanted a tortoise-shell cat and 
 kittens in her affection. 
 
 As a tenement for them wherein to commence housekeeping, 
 she had fitted up a small chamber adjacent to the kitchen, the 
 window of which looked into one of the quiet Moorish courts. 
 Here they lived in happy ignorance of any world beyond the 
 court and its sunny roofs. Never had they aspired to soar 
 above the battlements, or to mount to the summit of the 
 towers. Their virtuous union was at length crowned by two 
 spotless and milk-white eggs, to the great joy of their cherishing 
 little mistress. Nothing could be more praiseworthy than the 
 conduct of the young married folks on this interesting occasion. 
 They took turns to sit upon the nest until the eggs were 
 hatched, and while their callow progeny required warmth and 
 shelter ; while one thus stayed at home, the other foraged 
 abroad for food, and brought home abundant supplies. 
 
 This scene of conjugal felicity has suddenly met with a re 
 verse. Early this morning, as Dolores was feeding the male 
 pigeon, she took a fancy to give him a peep at the great world. 
 Opening a window, therefore, which looks down upon the 
 valley of the Darro, she launched him at once beyond the walls 
 
THE TRUANT 87 
 
 of the Alhambra. For the first time in his life the astonished 
 bird had to try the full vigor of his wings. He swept down 
 into the valley, and then rising upwards with a surge, soared 
 almost to the clouds. Never before had he risen to such a 
 height, or experienced such delight in flying ; and, like a young 
 spendthrift just come to his estate, he seemed giddy with excess 
 of liberty, and with the boundless field of action suddenly opened 
 to him. For the whole day he has been circling about in 
 capricious flights, from tower to tower, and tree to tree. 
 Every attempt has been vain to lure him back by scattering 
 grain upon the roofs ; he seems to have lost all thought of 
 home, of his tender helpmate, and his callow young. To add to 
 the anxiety of Dolores, he has been joined by two palomas 
 ladrones, or robber pigeons, whose instinct it is to entice wan 
 dering pigeons to their own dove-cotes. The fugitive, like many 
 other thoughtless youths on their first launching upon the world, 
 seems quite fascinated with these knowing but graceless com 
 panions, who have undertaken to show him life, and introduce 
 him to society. He has been soaring with them over all the 
 roofs and steeples of Granada. A thunder-storm has passed 
 over the city, but he has not sought his home ; night has 
 closed in, and still he comes not. To deepen the pathos of the 
 affair, the female pigeon, after remaining several hours on the 
 nest without being relieved, at length went forth to seek her 
 recreant mate ; but stayed away so long that the young ones 
 perished for want of the warmth and shelter of the parent 
 bosom. At a late hour in the evening, word was brought to 
 Dolores that the truant bird had been seen upon the towers of 
 the Generalife. Now it happens that the Administrador of 
 that ancient palace has likewise a dove-cote, among the inmates 
 of which are said to be two or three of these inveigling birds, 
 the terror of all neighboring pigeon-fanciers. Dolores immedi 
 ately concluded that the two feathered sharpers who had been 
 seen with her fugitive were these bloods of the Generalife. A 
 
88 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of Tia 
 Antonia. The Generalife is a distinct jurisdiction from the 
 Al ham bra, and of course some punctilio, if not jealousy, exists 
 between their custodians. It was determined, therefore, to send 
 Pepe, the stuttering lad of the gardens, as ambassador to the 
 Administrador, requesting that if such fugitive should be found 
 in his dominions, he might be given up as a subject of the 
 Alhambra. Pepe departed accordingly, on his diplomatic expe 
 dition, through the moonlit groves and avenues, but returned in 
 an hour with the afflicting intelligence that no such bird was 
 to be found in the dove-cote of the Generalife. The Admin 
 istrador, however, pledged his sovereign word that if such 
 vagrant should appear there, even at midnight, he should be 
 instantly arrested and sent back prisoner to his little black-eyed 
 mistress. 
 
 Thus stands the melancholy affair which has occasioned 
 much distress throughout the palace, and has sent the incon 
 solable Dolores to a sleepless pillow. 
 
 "Sorrow endureth for a night," says the proverb, "but 
 
 joy cometh in the morning." The first object that met my 
 eyes, on leaving my room this morning, was Dolores, with the 
 truant pigeon in her hands, and her eyes sparkling with joy. 
 He had appeared at an early hour on the battlements, hovering 
 shyly about from roof to roof, but at length entered the win 
 dow, and surrendered himself prisoner. He gained little credit, 
 however, by his return ; for the ravenous manner in which he 
 devoured the food set before him showed that, like the prodigal 
 son, he had been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores up 
 braided him for his faithless conduct, calling him all manner 
 of vagrant names, though, womanlike, she fondled him at the 
 same time to her bosom and covered him with kisses. I ob 
 served, however, that she had taken care to clip his wings to 
 prevent all future soarings ; a precaution which I mention for 
 the benefit of all those who have truant lovers or wandering 
 
THE BALCONY 89 
 
 husbands. More than one valuable moral might be drawn from 
 the story of Dolores and her pigeon. 
 
 THE BALCONY 
 
 I HAVE spoken of a balcony of the central window of the 
 Hall of Ambassadors. It served as a kind of observatory, 
 where I used often to take my seat, and consider not merely the 
 heaven above but the earth beneath. Besides the magnificent 
 prospect which it commanded of mountain, valley, and vega, 
 there was a little busy scene of human life laid open to inspec 
 tion immediately below. At the foot of the hill was an alameda, 
 or public walk, which, though not so fashionable as the more 
 modern and splendid paseo of the Xenil, still boasted a varied 
 and picturesque concourse. Hither resorted the small gentry 
 of the suburbs, together with priests and friars, who walked 
 for appetite and digestion ; majos and majas, the beaux and 
 belles of the lower classes, in their Andalusian dresses ; swagger 
 ing contrabandistas, and sometimes half-muffled and mysterious 
 loungers of the higher ranks, on some secret assignation. 
 
 It was a moving picture of Spanish life and character, which 
 I delighted to study ; and as the astronomer has his grand tele 
 scope with which to sweep the skies, and, as it were, bring the 
 stars nearer for his inspection, so I had a smaller one, of pocket 
 size, for the use of my observatory, with which I could sweep 
 the regions below, and bring the countenances of the motley 
 groups so close as almost, at times, to make me think I^coula 
 divine their conversation by the play and expression of their 
 features. I was thus, in a manner, an invisible observer, and, 
 without quitting my solitude, could throw myself in an instant 
 into the midst of society, a rare advantage to one of some 
 what shy and quiet habits, and fond, like myself, of observing 
 the drama of life without becoming an actor in the scene. 
 
90 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 There was a considerable suburb lying below the Alhambra, 
 filling the narrow gorge of the valley, and extending up the 
 opposite hill of the Albaycin. Many of the houses were built 
 in the Moorish style, round patios, or courts, cooled by fountains 
 and open to the sky ; and as the inhabitants passed much of 
 their time in these courts, and on the terraced roofs during the 
 summer season, it follows that many a glance at their domestic 
 life might be obtained by an aerial spectator like myself, who 
 could look down on them from the clouds. 
 
 I enjoyed in some degree the advantages of the student in 
 the famous old Spanish story, who beheld all Madrid unroofed 
 for his inspection ; and my gossiping squire, Mateo Ximenes, 
 officiated occasionally as my Asmodeus, to give me anecdotes of 
 the different mansions and their inhabitants. 
 
 I preferred, however, to form conjectural histories for myself, 
 and thus would sit for hours, weaving, from casual incidents 
 and indications passing under my eye, a whole tissue of schemes, 
 intrigues, and occupations of the busy mortals below. There 
 was scarce a pretty face or a striking figure that I daily saw, 
 about which I had not thus gradually framed a dramatic story, 
 though some of my characters would occasionally act in direct 
 opposition to the part assigned them, and disconcert the whole 
 drama. Reconnoitring one day with my glass the streets of the 
 Albaycin, I beheld the procession of a novice about to take 
 the veil; and remarked several circumstances which excited 
 the strongest sympathy in the fate of the youthful being thus 
 about to be consigned to a living tomb. I ascertained to my 
 satisfaction that she was beautiful, and, from the paleness of 
 her cheek, that she was a victim rather than a votary. She 
 was arrayed in bridal garments, and decked with a chaplet of 
 white flowers, but her heart evidently revolted at this mockery 
 of a spiritual union, and yearned after its earthly loves. A tall 
 stern-looking man walked near her in the procession : it was, 
 of course, the tyrannical father, who, from some bigoted or 
 
TAKING THE VEIL 91 
 
 sordid motive, had compelled this sacrifice. Amid the crowd 
 was a dark handsome youth, in Andalusian garb, who seemed 
 to fix on her an eye of agony. It was doubtless the secret 
 lover from whom she was forever to be separated. My indigna 
 tion rose as I noted the malignant expression painted on the 
 countenances of the attendant monks and friars. The procession 
 arrived at the chapel of the convent ; the sun gleamed for the 
 last time upon the chaplet of the poor novice, as she crossed 
 the fatal threshold and disappeared within the building. The 
 throng poured in with cowl, and cross, and minstrelsy ; the 
 lover paused for a moment at the door. I could divine the 
 tumult of his feelings ; but he mastered them, and entered. 
 There was a long interval. I pictured to myself the scene pass 
 ing within : the poor novice despoiled of her transient finery, 
 and clothed in the conventual garb ; the bridal chaplet taken 
 from her brow, and her beautiful head shorn of its long silken 
 tresses. I heard her murmur the irrevocable vow. I saw her 
 extended on a bier ; the death-pall spread over her ; the funeral 
 service performed that proclaimed her dead to the world ; her 
 sighs were drowned in the deep tones of the organ, and the 
 plaintive requiem of the nuns ; the father looked on, unmoved, 
 without a tear ; the lover no my imagination refused to 
 portray the anguish of the lover there the picture remained 
 a blank. 
 
 After a time the throng again poured forth, and dispersed 
 various ways, to enjoy the light of the sun and mingle with the 
 stirring scenes of life ; but the victim, with her bridal chaplet, 
 was no longer there. The door of the convent closed that sev 
 ered her from the world forever. I saw the father and the 
 lover issue forth ; they were in earnest conversation. The 
 latter was vehement in .his gesticulations; I expected some 
 violent termination to my drama ; but an angle of a building 
 interfered and closed the scene. My eye afterwards was fre 
 quently turned to that convent with painful interest. I re- 
 
92 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 marked late at night a solitary light twinkling from a remote 
 lattice of one of its towers. " There," said I, " the unhappy 
 nun sits weeping in her cell, while perhaps her lover paces the 
 street below in unavailing anguish." 
 
 The officious Mateo interrupted my meditations and de 
 stroyed in an instant the cobweb tissue of my fancy. With his 
 usual zeal he had gathered facts concerning the scene, which 
 put my fictions all to flight. The heroine of my romance was 
 neither young nor handsome ; she had no lover ; she had 
 entered the convent of her own free will, as a respectable 
 asylum, and was one of the most cheerful residents within its 
 walls. 
 
 It was some little while before I could forgive the wrong 
 done me by the nun in being thus happy in her cell, in contra 
 diction to all the rules of romance ; I diverted my spleen, how 
 ever, by watching, for a day or two, the pretty coquetries of a 
 dark-eyed brunette, who, from the covert of a balcony shrouded 
 with flowering shrubs and a silken awning, was carrying on a 
 mysterious correspondence with a handsome, dark, well-whisk 
 ered cavalier, who lurked frequently in the street beneath her 
 window. Sometimes I saw him at an early hour, stealing forth 
 wrapped to the eyes in a mantle. Sometimes he loitered at a 
 corner, in various disguises, apparently waiting for a private 
 signal to slip into the house. Then there was the tinkling 
 of a guitar at night and a lantern shifted from place to 
 place in the balcony. I imagined another intrigue like that 
 of Almaviva, but was again disconcerted in all my supposi 
 tions. The supposed lover turned out to be the husband of 
 the lady, and a noted contrabandista ; and all his mysterious 
 signs and movements had doubtless some smuggling scheme in 
 view. 
 
 I occasionally amused myself with noting from this bal 
 cony the gradual changes of the scenes below, according to the 
 different stages of the day. 
 
THE CHANGES OF THE DAY 93 
 
 Scarce has the gray dawn streaked the sky, and the earliest 
 cock crowed from the cottages of the hill-side, when the suburbs 
 give sign of reviving animation ; for the fresh hours of dawning 
 are precious in the summer season in a sultry climate. All are 
 anxious to get the start of the sun, in the business of the day. 
 The muleteer drives forth his loaded train for the journey ; the 
 traveller slings his carbine behind his saddle, and mounts his 
 steed at the gate of the hostel ; the brown peasant from the 
 country urges forward his loitering beasts, laden with panniers 
 of sunny fruit and fresh dewy vegetables, for already the thrifty 
 housewives are hastening to the market. 
 
 The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, tipping the 
 transparent foliage of the groves. The matin bells resound 
 melodiously through the pure bright air, announcing the hour 
 of devotion. The muleteer halts his burdened animals before 
 the chapel, thrusts his staff through his belt behind, and enters 
 with hat in hand, smoothing his coal-black hair, to hear a mass, 
 and to put up a prayer for a prosperous wayfaring across the 
 sierra. And now steals forth on fairy foot the gentle Senora, 
 in trim basquina, with restless fan in hand, and dark eye flash 
 ing from beneath the gracefully folded mantilla ; she seeks some 
 well-frequented church to offer up her morning orisons ; but the 
 nicely adjusted dress, the dainty shoe and cobweb stocking, the 
 raven tresses exquisitely braided, the fresh-plucked rose, gleam 
 ing among them like a gem, show that earth divides with Heaven 
 the empire of her thoughts. Keep an eye upon her, careful 
 mother, or virgin aunt, or vigilant duenna, whichever you may 
 be, that walk behind ! 
 
 As the morning advances, the din of labor augments on every 
 side ; the streets are thronged with man, and steed, and beast 
 of burden, and there is a hum and murmur, like the surges of 
 the ocean. As the sun ascends to his meridian, the hum and 
 bustle gradually decline ; at the height of noon there is a pause. 
 The panting city sinks into lassitude, and for several hours 
 
94 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 there is a general repose. The windows are closed, the curtains 
 drawn, the inhabitants retired into the coolest recesses of their 
 mansions; the full-fed monk snores in his dormitory; the 
 brawny porter lies stretched on the pavement beside his burden ; 
 the peasant and the laborer sleep beneath the trees of the Ala- 
 meda, lulled by the sultry chirping of the locust. The streets 
 are deserted, except by the water-carrier, who refreshes the ear 
 by proclaiming the merits of his sparkling beverage, "colder 
 than the mountain snow " (mas fria que la nieve). 
 
 As the sun declines, there is again a gradual reviving, and 
 when the vesper bell rings out his sinking knell, all nature seems 
 to rejoice that the t/rant of the day has fallen. Now begins 
 the bustle of enjoyment, when the citizens pour forth to breathe 
 the evening air, and revel away the brief twilight in the walks 
 and gardens of the Darrow and Xenil. 
 
 As night closes, the capricious scene assumes new features. 
 Light after light gradually twinkles forth ; here a taper from a 
 balconied window ; there a votive lamp before the image of a 
 Saint. Thus, by degrees, the city emerges from the pervading 
 gloom, and sparkles with scattered lights, like the starry firma 
 ment. Now break forth from court and garden, and street and 
 lane, the tinkling of innumerable guitars, and the clicking of 
 castanets ; blending, at this lofty height, in a faint but general 
 concert. " Enjoy the moment " is the creed of the gay and 
 amorous Andalusian, and at no time does he practise it more 
 zealously than on the balmy nights of summer, wooing his 
 mistress with the dance, the love-ditty, and the passionate 
 serenade. 
 
 I was one evening seated in the balcony, enjoying the light 
 breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill, among the 
 tree- tops, when my humble historiographer Mateo, who was at 
 my elbow, pointed out a spacious house, in an obscure street of 
 the Albaycin, about which he related, as nearly as I can recol 
 lect, the following anecdote. 
 
THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON 95 
 
 THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON 
 
 " THEEE was once upon a time a poor mason, or bricklayer, in 
 Granada, who kept all the saints days and holidays, and Saint 
 Monday into the bargain, and yet, with all his devotion, he 
 grew poorer and poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for his 
 numerous family. One night he was roused from his first sleep 
 by a knocking at his door. He opened it, and beheld before 
 him a tall, meagre, cadaverous-looking priest. 
 
 " Hark ye, honest friend ! said the stranger ; I have ob 
 served that you are a good Christian, and one to be trusted ; 
 will you undertake a job this very night ? 
 
 " With all my heart, Senor Padre, on condition that I am 
 paid accordingly. 
 
 " * That you shall be ; but you must suffer yourself to be 
 blindfolded. 
 
 "To this the mason made no objection. So, being hood 
 winked, he was led by the priest through various rough lanes 
 and winding passages, until they stopped before the portal of a 
 house. The priest then applied a key, turned a creaking lock, 
 and opened what sounded like a ponderous door. They entered, 
 the door was closed and bolted, and the mason was conducted 
 through an echoing corridor and a spacious hall to an interior 
 part of the building. Here the bandage was removed from his 
 eyes, and he found himself in a patio, or court, dimly lighted by 
 a single lamp. In the centre was the dry basin of an old Moor 
 ish fountain, under which the priest requested him to form a 
 small vault, bricks and mortar being at hand for the purpose. 
 He accordingly worked all night, but without finishing the job. 
 Just before daybreak the priest put a piece of gold into his 
 hand, and having again blindfolded him, conducted him back to 
 his dwelling. 
 
 " Are you willing, said he, to return and complete your work? 
 
96 THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 " Gladly, Sen or Padre, provided I am so well paid. 
 
 " 4 Well, then, to-morrow at midnight I will call again/ 
 
 " He did so> and the vault was completed. 
 
 " Now, said the priest, you must help me to bring forth 
 the bodies that are to be buried in this vault. 
 
 "The poor mason s hair rose on his head at these words : he 
 followed the priest, with trembling steps, into a retired chamber 
 of the mansion, expecting to behold some ghastly spectacle of 
 death, but was relieved on perceiving three or four portly jars 
 standing in one corner. They were evidently full of money, and 
 it was with great labor that he and the priest carried them forth 
 and consigned them to their tomb. The vault was then closed, 
 the pavement replaced, and all traces of the work were obliter 
 ated. The mason was again hoodwinked and led forth by a 
 route different from that by which he had come. After they 
 had wandered for a long time through a perplexed maze of lanes 
 and alleys, they halted. The priest then put two pieces of gold 
 into his hand: Wait here, said he, until you hear the cathe 
 dral bell toll for matins. If you presume to uncover your eyes 
 before that time, evil will befall you : so saying, he departed. 
 The mason waited faithfully, amusing himself by weighing the 
 gold pieces in his hand, and clinking them against each other. 
 The moment the cathedral bell rang its matin peal, he uncovered 
 his eyes, and found himself on the banks of the Xenil ; whence 
 he made the best of his way home, and revelled with his family 
 for a whole fortnight on the profits of his two nights work ; 
 after which he was as poor as ever. 
 
 "He continued to work a little, and pray a good deal, and 
 keep saints days and holidays, from year to year, while his 
 family grew up as gaunt and ragged as a crew of gipsies. As 
 he was seated one evening at the door of his hovel, he was ac 
 costed by a rich old curmudgeon, who was noted for owning many 
 houses, and being a griping landlord. The man of money eyed him 
 for a moment from beneath a pair of anxious shagged eyebrows. 
 
THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON 97 
 
 " I am told, friend, that you are very poor. 
 " There is no denying the fact, senor, it speaks for itself 
 " 1 1 presume, then, that you will be glad of a job, and will 
 work cheap. 
 
 " l As cheap, my master, as any mason in Granada. 
 " That s what I want. I have an old house fallen into 
 decay, which costs me more money than it is worth to keep it 
 in repair, for nobody will live in it ; so I must contrive to patch 
 it up and keep it together at as small expense as possible. 
 
 " The mason was accordingly conducted to a large deserted 
 house that seemed going to ruin. Passing through several 
 empty halls and chambers, he entered an inner court, where 
 his eye was caught by an old Moorish fountain. He paused 
 for a moment, for a dreaming recollection of the place came over 
 him. 
 
 " Pray, said he, c who occupied this house formerly ? 
 " A pest upon him ! cried the landlord ; it was an old 
 miserly priest, who cared for nobody but himself. He was 
 said to be immensely rich, and, having no relations, it was 
 thought he would leave all his treasures to the Church. He 
 died suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to take pos 
 session of his wealth ; but nothing could they find but a few 
 ducats in a leathern purse. The worst luck has fallen on me, 
 for, since his death, the old fellow continues to occupy my house 
 without paying rent, and there is no taking the law of a dead 
 man. The people pretend to hear the clinking of gold all night 
 in the chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were count 
 ing over his money, and sometimes a groaning and moaning 
 about the court. Whether true or false, these stories have 
 brought a bad name on my house, and not a tenant will remain 
 in it. 
 
 "Enough," said the mason sturdily: let me live in your 
 house rent-free until some better tenant present, and I will 
 engage to put it in repair, and to quiet the troubled spirit that 
 
98 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 disturbs it. I am a good Christian and a poor man, and am 
 not to be daunted by the Devil himself, even though he should 
 come in the shape of a big bag of money ! 
 
 " The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted ; he 
 moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all his en 
 gagements. By little and little he restored it to its former 
 state ; the clinking of gold was no more heard at night in the 
 chamber of the defunct priest, but began to be heard by day in 
 the pocket of the living mason. In a word, he increased 
 rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of all his neighbors, and be 
 came one of the richest men in Granada : he gave large sums to 
 the Church, by way, no doubt, of satisfying his conscience, and 
 never revealed the secret of the vault until on his death-bed to 
 his son and heir." 
 
 THE COURT OF LIONS 
 
 THE peculiar charm of this old dreamy palace is its power 
 of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the past, and thus 
 clothing naked realities with the illusions of the memory 
 and the imagination. As I delight to walk in these " vain 
 shadows," I am prone to seek those parts of the Alhambra 
 which are most favorable to this phantasmagoria of the mind ; 
 and none are more so than the Court of Lions, and its surround 
 ing halls. Here the hand of time has fallen the lightest, and 
 the traces of Moorish elegance and splendor exist in almost 
 their original brilliancy. Earthquakes have shaken the founda 
 tions of this pile, and rent its rudest towers ; yet see ! not one 
 of those slender columns has been displaced, not an arch of that 
 light and fragile colonnade given way, and all the fairy fretwork 
 of these domes, apparently as unsubstantial as the crystal fabrics 
 of a morning s frost, exist after the lapse of centuries, almost as 
 fresh as if from the hand of the Moslem artists. I write in the 
 
THE COURT OF LIONS 99 % 
 
 midst of these mementos of the past, in the fresh hour of early 
 morning, in the fated Hall of the Abencerrages. The blood 
 stained fountain, the legendary monument of their massacre, is 
 before me ; the lofty jet almost casts its dew upon my paper. 
 How difficult to reconcile the ancient tale of violence and blood 
 with the gentle and peaceful scene around ! Everything here 
 appears calculated to inspire kind and happy feelings, for every 
 thing is delicate and beautiful. The very light falls tenderly 
 from above, through the lantern of a dome tinted and wrought 
 as if by fairy hands. Through the ample and fretted arch of 
 the portal I behold the Court of Lions, with brilliant sunshine 
 gleaming along its colonnades and sparkling in its fountains. 
 The lively swallow dives into the court, and, rising with a surge, 
 darts away twittering over the roofs ; the busy bee toils hum 
 ming among the flower-beds ; and painted butterflies hover from 
 plant to plant, and flutter up and sport with each other in the 
 sunny air. It needs but a slight exertion of the fancy to picture 
 some pensive beauty of the harem, loitering in these secluded 
 haunts of Oriental luxury. 
 
 He, however, who would behold this scene under an aspect 
 more in unison with its fortunes, let him come when the shadows 
 of evening temper the brightness of the court, and throw a gloom 
 into the surrounding halls. Then nothing can be more serenely 
 melancholy, or more in harmony with the tale of departed 
 grandeur. 
 
 At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Justice, whose 
 deep shadowy arcades extend across the upper end of the court. 
 Here was performed, in presence of Ferdinand and Isabella and 
 their triumphant court, the pompous ceremonial of high mass, 
 on taking possession of the Alhambra. The very cross is still 
 to be seen upon the wall, where the altar was erected, and where 
 officiated the Grand Cardinal of Spain, and others of the highest 
 religious dignitaries of the land. I picture to myself the scene 
 when this place was filled with the conquering host, that mix- 
 
100 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 tare of mitred prelate and shaven monk, and steel-clad knight 
 and silken courtier ; when crosses and crosiers and religious 
 standards were mingled with proud armorial ensigns and the 
 banners of the haughty chiefs of Spain, and flaunted in triumph 
 through these Moslem halls. I picture to myself Columbus, 
 the future discoverer of a world, taking his modest stand in a 
 remote corner, the humble and neglected spectator of the pageant. 
 I see in imagination the Catholic sovereigns prostrating them 
 selves before the altar, and pouring forth thanks for their vic 
 tory ; while the vaults resound with sacred minstrelsy, and the 
 deep-toned Te Deum. 
 
 The transient illusion is over, the pageant melts from the 
 fancy, monarch, priest, and warrior return into oblivion with 
 the poor Moslems over whom they exulted. The hall of their 
 triumph is waste and desolate. The bat flits about its twilight 
 vault, and the owl hoots from the neighboring tower of Comares. 
 
 Entering the Court of the Lions a few evenings since, I was 
 almost startled at beholding a turbaned Moor quietly seated near 
 the fountain. For a moment one of the fictions of the place 
 seemed realized : an enchanted Moor had broken the spell of 
 centuries, and become visible. He proved, however, to be a 
 mere ordinary mortal : a native of Tetuan in Barbary, who had 
 a shop in the Zacatin of Granada, where he sold rhubarb, trinkets, 
 and perfumes. As he spoke Spanish fluently, I was enabled to 
 hold conversation with him, and found him shrewd and intelli 
 gent. He told me that he came up the hill occasionally in the 
 summer, to pass a part of the day in the Alhambra, which re 
 minded him of the old palaces in Barbary, being built and 
 adorned in similar style, though with more magnificence. 
 
 As we walked about the palace, he pointed out several of the 
 Arabic inscriptions, as possessing much poetic beauty. 
 
 " Ah, senor," said he, " when the Moors held Granada, they 
 were a gayer people than they are nowadays. They thought 
 only of love, music, and poetry. They made stanzas upon every 
 
A MOOR IN THE COURT OF LIONS 101 
 
 occasion, and set them all to music. He who could make the 
 best verses, and she who had the most tuneful voice, might be 
 sure of favor and preferment. In those days, if any one asked 
 for bread, the reply was, make me a couplet ; and the poorest 
 beggar, if he begged in rhyme, would often be rewarded with 
 a piece of gold." 
 
 " And is the popular feeling for poetry," said I, " entirely lost 
 among you ? " 
 
 "By no means, senor ; the people of Barbary, even those of 
 the lower classes, still make couplets, and good ones too, as in 
 old times ; but talent is not rewarded as it was then ; the rich 
 prefer the jingle of their gold to the sound of poetry or music." 
 
 As he was talking, his eye caught one of the inscriptions 
 which foretold perpetuity to the power and glory of the Mos 
 lem monarchs, the masters of this pile. He shook his head, 
 and shrugged his shoulders, as he interpreted it. "Such might 
 have been the case," said he; "the Moslems might still have 
 been reigning in the Alhambra, had not Boabdil been a traitor, 
 and given up his capital to the Christians. The Spanish mon 
 archs would never have been able to conquer it by open force." 
 
 I endeavored to vindicate the memory of the unlucky Boabdil 
 from this aspersion, and to show that the dissensions which led 
 to the downfall of the Moorish throne originated in the cruelty 
 of his tiger-hearted father; but the Moor would admit of no 
 palliation. 
 
 "Muley Abul Hassan," said he, "might have been cruel; 
 but he was brave, vigilant, and patriotic. Had he been properly 
 seconded, Granada would still have been ours ; but his son 
 Boabdil thwarted his plans, crippled his power, sowed treason 
 in his palace and dissension in his camp. May the curse of 
 God light upon him for his treachery ! " With these words the 
 Moor left the Alhambra. 
 
 The indignation of my turbaned companion agrees with an 
 anecdote related by a friend, who, in the course of a tour in 
 
102 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Barbary, had an interview with the Pacha of Tetuan. The 
 Moorish governor was particular in his inquiries about Spain, 
 and especially concerning the favored region of Andalusia, the 
 delights of Granada, and the remains of its royal palace. The 
 replies awakened all those fond recollections, so deeply cherished 
 by the Moors, of the power and splendor of their ancient em 
 pire in Spain. Turning to his Moslem attendants, the Pacha 
 stroked his beard, and broke forth in passionate lamentations, 
 that such a sceptre should have fallen from the sway of true 
 believers. He consoled himself, however, with the persuasion, 
 that the power and prosperity of the Spanish nation were on 
 the decline ; that a time would come when the Moors would 
 conquer their rightful domains ; and that the day was perhaps 
 not far distant when Mohammedan worship would again be 
 offered up in the mosque of Cordova, and a Mohammedan prince 
 sit on his throne in the Alhambra. 
 
 Such is the general aspiration and belief among the Moors 
 of Barbary; who consider Spain, or Andaluz, as it was an 
 ciently called, their rightful heritage, of which they have been 
 despoiled by treachery and violence. These ideas are fostered 
 and perpetuated by the descendants of the exiled Moors of 
 Granada, scattered among the cities of Barbary. Several 
 of these reside in Tetuan, preserving their ancient names, such 
 as Paez and Medina, and refraining from intermarriage with 
 any families who cannot claim the same high origin. Their 
 vaunted lineage is regarded with a degree of popular deference 
 rarely shown in Mohammedan communities to any hereditary 
 distinction, excepting in the royal line. 
 
 These families, it is said, continue to sigh after the terrestrial 
 paradise of their ancestors, and to put up prayers in their 
 mosques on Fridays, imploring Allah to hasten the time when 
 Granada shall be restored to the faithful : an event to which 
 they look forward as fondly and confidently as did the Christian 
 crusaders to the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, Nay, it is 
 
BOABDIL SLANDERED 103 
 
 added, that some of them retain the ancient maps and deeds 
 of the estates and gardens of their ancestors at Granada, and 
 even the keys of the houses ; holding them as evidences of their 
 hereditary claims, to be produced at the anticipated day of 
 restoration. 
 
 My conversation with the Moor set me to musing on the 
 fate of Boabdil. Never was surname more applicable than that 
 bestowed upon him by his subjects of El Zogoybi, or the Un 
 lucky. His misfortunes began almost in his cradle, and ceased 
 not even with his death. If ever he cherished the desire 
 of leaving an honorable name on the historic page, how cruelly 
 has he been defrauded of his hopes ! Who is there that has 
 turned the least attention to the romantic history of the Moor 
 ish domination in Spain, without kindling with indignation at 
 the alleged atrocities of Boabdil 1 Who has not been touched 
 with the woes of his lovely and gentle queen, subjected by 
 him to a trial of life and death, on a false charge of infidelity ? 
 Who has not been shocked by his alleged murder of his sister 
 and her two children, in a transport of passion? Who has not 
 felt his blood boil at the inhuman massacre of the gallant 
 Abencerrages, thirty-six of whom, it is affirmed, he ordered 
 to be beheaded in the Court of Lions 1 All these charges have 
 been reiterated in various forms ; they have passed into ballads, 
 dramas, and romances, until they have taken too thorough 
 possession of the public mind to be eradicated. There is not a 
 foreigner of education that visits the Alhambra, but asks for 
 the fountain where the Abencerrages were beheaded ; and gazes 
 with horror at the grated gallery where the queen is said to 
 have been confined ; not a peasant of the Vega or the Sierra, 
 but sings the story in rude couplets, to the accompaniment 
 of his guitar, while his hearers learn to execrate the very 
 name of Boabdil. 
 
 Never, however, was name more foully and unjustly slandered. 
 I have examined all the authentic chronicles and letters written 
 
104 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 by Spanish authors, contemporary with Boabdil; some of whom 
 were in the confidence of the Catholic sovereigns, and actually 
 present in the camp throughout the war. I have examined 
 all the Arabian authorities I could get access to, through the 
 medium of translation, and have found nothing to justify these 
 dark and hateful accusations. The most of these tales may be 
 traced to a work commonly called " The Civil Wars of Gra 
 nada," containing a pretended history of the feuds of the 
 Zegries and Abencerrages, during the last struggle of the Moor 
 ish empire. The work appeared originally in Spanish, and 
 professed to be translated from the Arabic by one Gines Perez 
 de Hita, an inhabitant of Murcia. It has since passed into 
 various languages, and Florian has taken from it much of the 
 fable of his Gonsalvo of Cordova : it has thus, in a great meas 
 ure, usurped the authority of real history, and is currently 
 believed by the people, and especially the peasantry of Granada. 
 The whole of it, however, is a mass of fiction, mingled with 
 a few disfigured truths, which give it an air of veracity. It 
 bears internal evidence of its falsity ; the manners and customs 
 of the Moors being extravagantly misrepresented in it, and 
 scenes depicted totally incompatible with their habits and their 
 faith, and which never could have been recorded by a Moham 
 medan writer. 
 
 I confess there seems to me something almost criminal in the 
 wilful perversions of this work : great latitude is undoubtedly 
 to be allowed to romantic fiction, but there are limits which it 
 must not pass ; and the names of the distinguished dead, which 
 belong to history, are no more to be calumniated than those 
 of the illustrious living. One would have thought, too, that 
 the unfortunate Boabdil had suffered enough for his justifiable 
 hostility to the Spaniards, by being stripped of his kingdom, 
 without having his name thus wantonly traduced, and rendered 
 a by- word and a theme of infamy in his native land, and in the 
 very mansion of his fathers ! 
 
THE ABENCERRAGES 105 
 
 If the reader is sufficiently interested in these questions to 
 tolerate a little historical detail, the following facts, gleaned 
 from what appear to be authentic sources, and tracing the for 
 tunes of the Abencerrages, may serve to exculpate the unfortu 
 nate Boabdil from the perfidious massacre of that illustrious line 
 so shamelessly charged to him. It will also serve to throw a 
 proper light upon the alleged accusation and imprisonment of 
 his queen. 
 
 THE ABENCERRAGES 
 
 A GRAND line of distinction existed among the Moslems of 
 Spain, between those of Oriental origin and those from Western 
 Africa. Among the former the Arabs considered themselves 
 the purest race, as being descended from the countrymen of the 
 Prophet, who first raised the standard of Islam; among the 
 latter, the most warlike and powerful were the Berber tribes 
 from Mount Atlas and the deserts of Sahara, commonly known 
 as Moors, who subdued the tribes of the sea-coast, founded the 
 city of Morocco, and for a long time disputed with the Oriental 
 races the control of Moslem Spain. 
 
 Among the Oriental races the Abencerrages held a distin 
 guished rank, priding themselves on a pure Arab descent from 
 the Beni Seraj, one of the tribes who were Ansares or Com 
 panions of the Prophet. The Abencerrages flourished for a time 
 at Cordova ; but probably repaired to Granada after the down 
 fall of the Western Caliphat; it was there they attained their 
 historical and romantic celebrity, being foremost among the 
 splendid chivalry which graced the court of the Alhambra. 
 
 Their highest and most dangerous prosperity was during the 
 precarious reign of Muhamed Nasar, surnamed El Hayzari, or 
 the Left-handed. That ill-starred monarch, when he ascended 
 the throne in 1423, lavished his favors upon this gallant line, 
 making the head of the tribe, Jusef Aben Zeragh, his vizier, or 
 
106 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 prime minister, and advancing his relatives and friends to the 
 most distinguished posts about the court. This gave great 
 offence to other tribes, and caused intrigues among their chiefs. 
 Muhamed lost popularity also by his manners. He was vain, 
 inconsiderate, and haughty ; disdained to mingle among his sub 
 jects ; forbade those jousts and tournaments, the delight of high 
 and low, and passed his time in the luxurious retirement of the 
 AUiambra. The consequence was a popular insurrection : the 
 palace was stormed ; the king escaped through the gardens, fled 
 to the sea-coast, crossed in disguise to Africa, and took refuge 
 with his kinsman, the sovereign of Tunis. 
 
 Muhamed el Zaguer, cousin of the fugitive monarch, took 
 possession of the vacant throne. He pursued a different course 
 from his predecessor. He not only gave fetes and tourneys, but 
 entered the lists himself, in grand and sumptuous array ; he 
 distinguished himself in managing his horse, in tilting, riding 
 at the ring, and other chivalrous exercises ; feasted with his 
 cavaliers, and made them magnificent presents. 
 
 Those who had been in favor with his predecessor, now ex 
 perienced a reverse ; he manifested such hostility to them that 
 more than five hundred of the principal cavaliers left the city. 
 Jusef Aben Zeragh, with forty of the Abencerrages, abandoned 
 Granada in the night, and sought the court of Juan the king of 
 Castile. Moved by their representations, that young and gen 
 erous monarch wrote letters to the sovereign of Tunis, inviting 
 him to assist in punishing the usurper and restoring the exiled 
 king to his throne. The faithful and indefatigable vizier accom 
 panied the bearer of these letters to Tunis, where he rejoined his 
 exiled sovereign. The letters were successful. Muhamed el 
 Hayzari landed in Andalusia with five hundred African horse, 
 and was joined by the Abencerrages and others of his adherents, 
 and by his Christian allies ; wherever he appeared the people 
 submitted to him ; troops sent against him deserted to his 
 standard ; Granada was recovered without a blow ; the usurper 
 
DON PEDRO VENEGAS 107 
 
 retreated to the Alhambra, but was beheaded by his own soldiers 
 (1428), after reigning between two and three years. 
 
 El Hayzari, once more on the throne, heaped honors on the 
 loyal vizier, through whose faithful services he had been restored, 
 and once more the line of the Abencerrages basked in the sun 
 shine of royal favor. El Hayzari sent ambassadors to King 
 Juan, thanking him for his aid, and proposing a perpetual league 
 of amity. The king of Castile required homage and yearly trib 
 ute. These the left-handed monarch refused, supposing the 
 youthful king too much engaged in civil war to enforce his 
 claims. Again the kingdom of Granada was harassed by inva 
 sions, and its Vega laid waste. Various battles took place with 
 various success. But El Hayzari s greatest danger was near at 
 home. There was at that time in Granada a cavalier, Don Pedro 
 Venegas by name, a Moslem by faith, but Christian by descent, 
 whose early history borders on romance. He was of the noble 
 house of Luque, but captured when a child, eight years of age, 
 by Cid Yahia Almayar, prince of Almeria, 1 who adopted him as 
 his son, educated him in the Moslem faith, and brought him up 
 among his children, the Celtimerian princes, a proud family, 
 descended in direct line from Aben Hud, one -of the early Gra- 
 nadian kings. A mutual attachment sprang up between Don 
 Pedro and the princess Cetimerien, a daughter of Cid Yahia, 
 famous for her beauty, and whose name is perpetuated by the 
 ruins of her palace in Granada still bearing traces of Moorish 
 elegance and luxury. In process of time they were married ; 
 and thus a scion of the Spanish house of Luque became en 
 grafted on the royal stock of Aben Hud. 
 
 Such is the early story of Don Pedro Venegas, who at the 
 time of which we treat was a man mature in years, and of an 
 active, ambitious spirit. He appears to have been the soul of a 
 conspiracy set on foot about this time, to topple Muhamed the 
 Left-handed from his unsteady throne, and elevate in his place 
 Yusef Aben Alhamar, the eldest of the Celtimerian princes. 
 
108 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The aid of the king of Castile was to be secured, and Don 
 Pedro proceeded on a secret embassy to Cordova for the pur 
 pose. He informed King Juan of the extent of the conspiracy ; 
 that Yusef Aben Alhamar could bring a large force to his 
 standard as soon as he should appear in the Vega, and would 
 acknowledge himself his vassal, if with his aid he should attain 
 the crown. The aid was promised, and Don Pedro hastened 
 back to Granada with the tidings. The conspirators now left 
 the city, a few at a time, under various pretexts ; and when 
 King Juan passed the frontier, Yusef Aben Alhamar brought 
 eight thousand men to his standard, and kissed his hand in 
 token of allegiance. 
 
 It is needless to recount the various battles by which the 
 kingdom was desolated, and the various intrigues by which 
 one half of it was roused to rebellion. The Abencerrages 
 stood by the failing fortunes of Muhamed throughout the 
 struggle ; their last stand was at Loxa, where their chief, the 
 vizier Yusef Aben Zeragh, fell bravely fighting, and many of 
 their noblest cavaliers were slain : in fact, in that disastrous 
 war the fortunes of the family were nearly wrecked. 
 
 Again the ill-starred Muhamed was driven from his throne, 
 and took refuge in Malaga, the alcayde of which still remained 
 true to him. 
 
 Yusef Aben Alhamar, commonly known as Yusef II., en 
 tered Granada in triumph on the first of January, 1432, but 
 he found it a melancholy city, where half of the inhabitants 
 were in mourning. Not a noble family but had lost some 
 member; and in the slaughter of the Abencerrages at Loxa 
 had fallen some of the brightest of the chivalry. 
 
 The royal pageant passed through silent streets, and the 
 barren homage of a court in the halls of the Alhatnbra ill 
 supplied the want of sincere and popular devotion. Yusef 
 Aben Alhamar felt the insecurity of his position. The deposed 
 monarch was at hand in Malaga ; the sovereign of Tunis es- 
 
YUSEF ABEN ALHAMAR 109 
 
 poused his cause, and pleaded with the Christian monarchs in 
 his favor ; above all, Yusef felt his own unpopularity in Gra 
 nada ; previous fatigues had impaired his health, a profound 
 melancholy settled upon him, and in the course of six months 
 he sank into the grave. 
 
 At the news of his death, Muhamed the Left-handed hast 
 ened from Malaga, and again was placed on the throne. From 
 the wrecks of the Abencerrages he chose as vizier Abdelbar, 
 one of the worthiest of that magnanimous line. Through his 
 advice he restrained his vindictive feelings and adopted a 
 conciliatory policy. He pardoned most of his enemies. Yusef, 
 the defunct usurper, had left three children. His estates were 
 apportioned among them. Aben Celim, the eldest son, was 
 confirmed in the title of Prince of Almeria and Lord of Mar- 
 chena in the Alpuxarras. Ahmed, the youngest, was made 
 Senor of Luchar; and Equivila, the daughter, received rich 
 patrimonial lands in the fertile Vega, and various houses and 
 shops in the Zacatin of Granada. The vizier Abdelbar coun 
 selled the king, moreover, to secure the adherence of the family 
 by matrimonial connections. An aunt of Muhamed was ac 
 cordingly given in marriage to Aben Celim, while the prince 
 Nasar, younger brother of the deceased usurper, received the 
 hand of the beautiful Lindaraxa, daughter of Muhamed s faith 
 ful adherent, the alcayde of Malaga. This was the Lindaraxa 
 whose name still designates one of the gardens of the Alhambra. 
 
 Don Pedro de Venegas alone, the husband of the princess 
 Cetimerien, received no favor. He was considered as having 
 produced the late troubles by his intrigues. The Abencerrages 
 charged him with the reverses of their family and the deaths 
 of so many of their bravest cavaliers. The king never spoke 
 of him but by the opprobrious appellation of the Tornadizo, or 
 Renegade. Finding himself in danger of arrest and punish 
 ment, he took leave of his wife, the princess, his two sons, 
 Abul Cacim and Recluan, and his daughter, Cetimerien, and 
 
110 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 fled to Jaen. There, like his brother-in-law, the usurper, he 
 expiated his intrigues and irregular ambition by profound 
 humiliation and melancholy, and died in 1434 a penitent, 
 because a disappointed man. 2 
 
 Muhamed el Hayzari was doomed to further reverses. He 
 had two nephews, Aben Osmyn, surnamed El Anaf, or the 
 Lame, and Aben Ismael. The former, who was of an am 
 bitious spirit, resided in Almeria ; the latter in Granada, where 
 he had many friends. He was on the point of espousing a 
 beautiful girl, when his royal uncle interfered and gave her 
 to one of his favorites. Enraged at this despotic act, the 
 prince Aben Ismael took horse and weapons and sallied from 
 Granada for the frontier, followed by numerous cavaliers. The 
 affair gave general disgust, especially to the Abencerrages, who 
 were attached to the prince. No sooner did tidings reach 
 Aben Osmyn of the public discontent than his ambition, was 
 aroused. Throwing himself suddenly into Granada, he raised 
 a popular tumult, surprised his uncle in the Alhambra, com 
 pelled him to abdicate, and proclaimed himself king. This 
 occurred in September, 1445. The Abencerrages now gave 
 up the fortunes of the left-handed king as hopeless, and him- 
 selt as incompetent to rule. Led by their kinsman, the vizier 
 Abdelbar, and accompanied by many other cavaliers, they 
 abandoned the court and took post in Montefrio. Thence 
 AbJelbar wrote to Prince Aben Ismael, who had taken refuge 
 in Castile, inviting him to the camp, offering to support his 
 pretensions to the throne, and advising him to leave Castile 
 secretly, lest his departure should be opposed by King Juan II. 
 The prince, however, confiding in the generosity of the Castilian 
 monarch, told frankly the whole matter. He was not mistaken. 
 King Juan not merely gave him permission to depart, but 
 promised him aid, and gave him letters to that effect to his 
 commanders on the frontiers. Aben Ismael departed with a 
 brilliant escort, arrived in safety at Montefrio, and was pro- 
 
THE ABENCEftRAGES 111 
 
 claimed king of Granada by Abdelbar and his partisans, the 
 most important of whom were the Abencerrages. A long 
 course of civil wars ensued between the two cousins, rivals for 
 the throne. Aben Osmyn was aided by the kings of Navarre 
 and Aragon, while Juan II., at war with his rebellious sub 
 jects, could give little assistance to Aben Ismael. 
 
 Thus for several years the country was torn by internal strife 
 and desolated by foreign inroads, so that scarce a field but was 
 stained with blood. Aben Osmyn was brave, and often signal 
 ized himself in arms ; but he was cruel and despotic, and ruled 
 with an iron hand. He offended the nobles by his caprices, and 
 the populace by his tyranny, while his rival cousin conciliated 
 all hearts by his benignity. Hence there were continual deser 
 tions from Granada to the fortified camp at Montefrio, and the 
 party of Aben Ismael was constantly gaining strength. At 
 length the king of Castile, having made peace with the kings 
 of Aragon and Navarre, was enabled to send a choice body of 
 troops to the assistance of Aben Ismael. The latter now left 
 his trenches in Montefrio, and took the field. The combined 
 forces marched upon Granada. Aben Osmyn sallied forth to 
 the encounter. A bloody battle ensued, in which both of the 
 rival cousins fought with heroic valor. Aben Osmyn was de 
 feated and driven back to his gates. He summoned the inhab 
 itants to arms, but few answered to his call ; his cruelty had 
 alienated all hearts. Seeing his fortunes at an end, he deter 
 mined to close his career by a signal act of vengeance. Shut 
 ting himself up in the Alhambra, he summoned thither a 
 number of the principal cavaliers whom he suspected of disloy 
 alty. As they entered, they were one by one put to death. 
 This is supposed by some to be the massacre which gave its 
 fatal name to the hall of the Abencerrages. Having perpetrated 
 this atrocious act of vengeance, and hearing by the shouts of 
 the populace that Aben Ismael was already proclaimed king 
 in the city, he escaped with his satellites by the Cerro del Sol 
 
112 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 and the valley of the Darro to the Alpuxarra Mountains ; where 
 he and his followers led a kind of robber life, laying villages 
 and roads under contribution. 
 
 Aben Ismael II., who thus attained the throne in 1454, 
 secured the friendship of King Juan II. by acts of homage and 
 magnificent presents. He gave liberal rewards to those who 
 had been faithful to him, and consoled the families of those 
 who had fallen in his cause. During his reign, the Abencer- 
 rages were again among the most favored of the brilliant 
 chivalry that graced his court. Aben Ismael, however, was 
 not of a warlike spirit ; his reign was distinguished rather by 
 works of public utility, the ruins of some of which are still to 
 be seen on the Cerro del Sol. 
 
 In the same year of 1454 Juan II. died, and was succeeded 
 by Henry IV. of Castile, surnamed the Impotent. Aben Ismael 
 neglected to renew the league of amity with him which had 
 existed with his predecessor, as he found it to be unpopular 
 with the people of Granada. King Henry resented the omis 
 sions, and, under pretext of arrears of tribute, made repeated 
 forays into the kingdom of Granada. He gave countenance 
 also to Aben Osmyn and his robber hordes, and took some of 
 them into pay; but his proud cavaliers refused to associate 
 with infidel outlaws, and determined to seize Aben Osmyn ; 
 who, however, made his escape, first to Seville, and thence to 
 Castile. 
 
 In the year 1456, on the occasion of a great foray into the 
 Vega by the Christians, Aben Ismael, to secure a peace, agreed 
 to pay the king of Castile a certain tribute annually, and at the 
 same time to liberate six hundred Christian captives ; or, should 
 the number of captives fall short, to make it up in Moorish 
 hostages. Aben Ismael fulfilled the rigorous terms of the 
 treaty, and reigned for a number of years with more tran 
 quillity than usually fell to the lot of the monarchs of that 
 belligerent kingdom. Granada enjoyed a great state of pros- 
 
DESCENDANTS OF DON PEDRO VENEGAS 113 
 
 perity during his reign, and was the seat of festivity and 
 splendor. His sultana was a daughter of Cid Hiaya Abraham 
 Alnayar, prince of Almeria ; and he had by her two sons, Abul 
 Hassan, and Abi Abdallah, surnamed El Zagal, the father and 
 uncle of Boabdil We approach now the eventful period signal 
 ized by the conquest of Granada. 
 
 Muley Abul Hassan succeeded to the throne on the death of 
 his father in 1465. One of his first acts was to refuse payment 
 of the degrading tribute exacted by the Castilian monarch. His 
 refusal was one of the causes of the subsequent disastrous war. 
 I confine myself, however, to facts connected with the fortunes 
 of the Abencerrages and the charges advanced against Boabdil. 
 
 The reader will recollect that Don Pedro Venegas, surnamed 
 El Tornadizo, when he fled from Granada in 1433, left behind 
 him two sons, Abul Cacim and Reduan, and a daughter, Ceti- 
 merien. They always enjoyed a distinguished rank in Granada, 
 from their royal descent by the mother s side, and from being 
 connected, through the princes of Almeria, with the last and 
 the present king. The sons had distinguished themselves by 
 their talents and bravery, and the daughter Cetimerien was 
 married to Cid Hiaya, grandson of King Yusef and brother-in- 
 law of El Zagal. Thus powerfully connected, it is not surpris 
 ing to find Abul Cacim Venegas advanced to the post of vizier 
 of Muley Abul Hassan, and Reduan Venegas one of his most 
 favored generals. Their rise was regarded with an evil eye by 
 the Abencerrages, who remembered the disasters brought upon 
 their family, and the deaths of so many of their line, in the war 
 fomented by the intrigues of Don Pedro, in the days of Yusef 
 Aben Alhamar. A feud had existed ever since between the 
 Abencerrages and the house of Venegas. It was soon to be 
 aggravated by a formidable schism which took place in the 
 royal harem. 
 
 Muley Abul Hassan, in his youthful days, had married his 
 cousin, the Princess Ayxa la Horra, daughter of his uncle, the 
 
114 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 ill-starred sultan, Muhamed the Left-handed ; 3 by her he had 
 two sons, the eldest of whom was Boabdil, heir presumptive to 
 the throne. Unfortunately at an advanced age he took another 
 wife, Isabella de Solis, a young and beautiful Christian captive, 
 better known by her Moorish appellation of Zoraya ; by her he 
 had also two sons. Two factions were produced in the palace 
 by the rivalry of the sultanas, who were each anxious to secure 
 for their children the succession to the throne. Zoraya was 
 supported by the vizier Abul Cacim Venegas, his brother 
 Keduan Venegas, and their numerous connections, partly 
 through sympathy with her as being, like themselves, of 
 Christian lineage, and partly because they saw she was the 
 favorite of the doting monarch. 
 
 The Abencerrages, on the contrary, rallied round the sultana 
 Ayxa; partly through hereditary opposition to the family of 
 Venegas, but chiefly, no doubt, through a strong feeling of 
 loyalty to her as daughter of Muhamed Alhayzari, the ancient 
 benefactor of their line. 
 
 The dissensions of the palace went on increasing. Intrigues 
 of all kinds took place, as is usual in royal palaces. Suspicions 
 were artfully instilled in the mind of Muley Abul Hassan that 
 Ayxa was engaged in a plot to depose him and put her son 
 Boabdil on the throne. In his first transports of rage he con 
 fined them both in the tower of Comares, threatening the life 
 of Boabdil. At dead of night the anxious mother lowered her 
 son from a window of the tower by the scarfs of herself and 
 her female attendants ; and some of her adherents, who were 
 in waiting with swift horses, bore him away to the Alpuxarras. 
 It is this imprisonment of the sultana Ayxa which possibly gave 
 rise to the fable of the queen of Boabdil being confined by him 
 in a tower to be tried for her life. No other shadow of a ground 
 exists for it, and here we find the tyrant jailer was his father, 
 and the captive sultana his mother. 
 
 The massacre of the Abencerrages in the halls of the Alham- 
 
FATE OF THE ABENCERRAGES 115 
 
 bra is placed by some about this time, and attributed also to 
 Muley Abul Hassan, on suspicion of their being concerned in 
 the conspiracy. The sacrifice of a number of the cavaliers of 
 that line is said to have been suggested by the vizier Abul 
 Cacim Venegas, as a means of striking terror into the rest. 4 
 If such were really the case, the barbarous measure proved 
 abortive. The Abencerrages continued intrepid, as they were 
 loyal, in their adherence to the cause of Ayxa and her son 
 Boabdil, throughout the war which ensued, while the Venegas 
 were ever foremost in the ranks of Muley Abul Hassan and 
 El Zagal. The ultimate fortunes of these rival families is 
 worthy of note. The Venegas, in the last struggle of Granada, 
 were among those who submitted to the conquerors, renounced 
 the Moslem creed, returned to the faith from which their an 
 cestor had apostatized, were rewarded with offices and estates, 
 intermarried with Spanish families, and have left posterity 
 among the nobles of the land. The Abencerrages remained 
 true to their faith, true to their king, true to their desperate 
 cause, and went down with the foundering wreck of Moslem 
 domination, leaving nothing behind them but a gallant and 
 romantic name in history. 
 
 In this historical outline, I trust I have shown enough to put 
 the fable concerning Boabdil and the Abencerrages in a true 
 light. The story of the accusation of his queen, and his cruelty 
 to his sister, are equally void of foundation. In his domestic 
 relations he appears to have been kind and affectionate. His 
 tory gives him but one wife, Morayma, the daughter of the 
 veteran alcayde of Loxa, old Aliatar, famous in song and story 
 for his exploits in border warfare ; and who fell in that disas 
 trous foray into the Christian lands in which Boabdil was taken 
 prisoner. Morayma was true to Boabdil throughout all his 
 vicissitudes. When he was dethroned by the Castilian mon- 
 archs, she retired with him to the petty domain allotted him in 
 the valleys of the Alpuxarras, It was only when (dispossessed 
 
116 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 of this by the jealous precautions and subtle chicanery of Ferdi 
 nand, and elbowed, as it were, out of his native land) he was 
 preparing to embark for Africa, that her health and spirits, 
 exhausted by anxiety and long suffering, gave way, and she fell 
 into a lingering illness aggravated by corroding melancholy. 
 Boabdil was constant and affectionate to her to the last ; the 
 sailing of the ships was delayed for several weeks, to the great 
 annoyance of the suspicious Ferdinand. At length Moray ma 
 sank into the grave, evidently the victim of a broken heart, and 
 the event was reported to Ferdinand by his agent as one pro 
 pitious to his purposes, removing the only obstacle to the 
 embarkation of Boabdil. 5 
 
 1 Alcantara, Hist. Granad. , O. 3, p. 226, note. 
 
 2 Salazar y Castro, Hist. Genealog. de la Casa de Lara, lib. v. 
 c. 12, cited by Alcantara in his Hist. Granad. 
 
 3 Al Makkari, B. VIII. c. 7. 
 
 4 Alcantara, Hist, Granad., c. 17. See also Al Makkari, Hist. 
 Mohama. Dynasties, B. VIII. c. 7, with the Commentaries of Don 
 Pascual de Guyangos. 
 
 5 For authorities for these latter facts, see the Appendix to the 
 author s revised edition of the Conquest of Granada. 
 
 MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL 
 
 WHILE my mind was still warm with the subject of the un 
 fortunate Boabdil, I set forth to trace the mementos of him 
 still existing in this scene of his sovereignty and misfortunes. 
 In the tower of Comares, immediately under the Hall of Am 
 bassadors, are two vaulted rooms, separated by a narrow pas 
 sage ; these are said to have been the prisons of himself and his 
 mother, the virtuous Ayxa la Horra ; indeed, no other part of 
 the tower would have served for the purpose. The external 
 walls of these chambers are of prodigious thickness, pierced with 
 small windows secured by iron bars, A narrow stone gallery, 
 
MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL 117 
 
 with a low parapet, extends along three sides of the tower just 
 below the windows, but at a considerable height from the 
 ground. From this gallery, it is presumed, the queen lowered 
 her son with the scarfs of herself and her female attendants 
 during the darkness of the night to the hill-side, where some 
 of his faithful adherents waited with fleet steeds to bear him 
 to the mountains. 
 
 Between three and four hundred years have elapsed, yet this 
 scene of the drama remains almost unchanged. As I paced the 
 gallery, my imagination pictured the anxious queen leaning over 
 the parapet, listening, with the throbbings of a mother s heart, 
 to the last echoes of the horses hoofs as her son scoured along 
 the narrow valley of the Darro. 
 
 I next sought the gate by which Boabdil made his last exit 
 from the Alhambra, when about to surrender his capital and 
 kingdom. With the melancholy caprice of a broken spirit, or 
 perhaps with some superstitious feeling, he requested of the 
 Catholic monarchs that no one afterwards might be permitted 
 to pass through it. His prayer, according to ancient chronicles, 
 was complied with, through the sympathy of Isabella, and the 
 gate was walled up. 1 
 
 I inquired for some time in vain for such a portal ; at length 
 my humble attendant, Mateo Ximenes, said it must be one closed 
 up with stones, which, according to what he had heard from Mis 
 father and grandfather, was the gateway by which King Chico 
 had left the fortress. There was a mystery about it, and it had 
 never been opened within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. 
 
 He conducted me to the spot. The gateway is in the centre 
 of what was once an immense pile, called the Tower of the 
 Seven Floors (la Torre de los siete suelos). It is famous in the 
 neighborhood as the scene of strange apparitions and Moorish 
 enchantments. According to Swinburne the traveller, it was 
 originally the great gate of entrance. The antiquaries of Gran 
 ada pronounce it the entrance to that quarter of the royal 
 
118 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 residence where the king s body-guards were stationed. It there 
 fore might well form an immediate entrance and exit to the 
 palace ; while the grand Gate of Justice served as the entrance 
 of state to the fortress. When Boabdil sallied by this gate to 
 descend to the Vega, where he was to surrender the keys of the 
 city to the Spanish sovereigns, he left his vizier Aben Comixa 
 to receive, at the Gate of Justice, the detachment from the 
 Christian army and the officers to whom the fortress was to be 
 given up. 2 
 
 The once redoubtable Tower of the Seven Floors is now a 
 mere wreck, having been blown up with gunpowder by the 
 French, when they abandoned the fortress. Great masses of 
 the wall lie scattered about, buried in luxuriant herbage, or 
 overshadowed by vines and fig-trees. The arch of the gateway, 
 though rent by the shock, still remains ; but the last wish of 
 poor Boabdil has again, though unintentionally, been fulfilled, 
 for the portal has been closed up by loose stones gathered from 
 the ruins, and remains impassable. 
 
 Mounting my horse, I followed up the route of the Moslem 
 monarch from this place of his exit. Crossing the hill of Los 
 Martyros, and keeping along the garden-wall of a convent bear 
 ing the same name, I descended a rugged ravine beset by 
 thickets of aloes and Indian figs, and lined with caves and 
 hovels swarming with gipsies. The descent was so steep and 
 broken that I was fain to alight and lead my horse. By this 
 via dolorosa poor Boabdil took his sad departure to avoid pass 
 ing through the city ; partly, perhaps, through unwillingness 
 that its inhabitants should behold his humiliation ; but chiefly, 
 in all probability, lest it might cause some popular agitation. 
 For the last reason, undoubtedly, the detachment sent to take 
 possession of the fortress ascended by the same route. 
 
 Emerging from this rough ravine, so full of melancholy 
 associations, and passing by the puerta de los molinos (the 
 gate of the mills), I issued forth upon the public promenade 
 
MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL 119 
 
 called the Prado ; and pursuing the course of the Xenil, arrived 
 at a small chapel, once a mosque, now the Hermitage of San 
 Sebastian. Here, according to tradition, Boabdil surrendered the 
 keys of Granada to King Ferdinand. I rode slowly thence 
 across the Vega to a village where the family and household 
 of the unhappy king awaited him, for he had sent them forward 
 on the preceding night from the Alhambra, that his mother and 
 wife might not participate in his personal humiliation, or be 
 exposed to the gaze of the conquerors. Following on in the 
 route of the melancholy band of royal exiles, I arrived at the 
 foot of a chain of barren and dreary heights, forming the skirt 
 of the Alpuxarra Mountains. From the summit of one of 
 these the unfortunate Boabdil took his last look at Granada ; 
 it bears a name expressive of his sorrows, La Cuesta de las 
 Lagrimas (the hill of tears). Beyond it, a sandy road winds 
 across a rugged cheerless waste, doubly dismal to the unhappy 
 monarch, as it led to exile. 
 
 I spurred my horse to the summit of a rock, where Boabdil 
 uttered his last sorrowful exclamation, as he turned his eyes 
 from taking their farewell gaze : it is still denominated el ultimo 
 swpiro del Moro (the last sigh of the Moor). Who can wonder 
 at his anguish at being expelled from such a kingdom and such 
 an abode ? With the Alhambra he seemed to be yielding up 
 all the honors of his line, and all the glories and delights of 
 life. 
 
 It was here, too, that his affliction was embittered by the 
 reproach of his mother, Ayxa, who had so often assisted him in 
 times of peril, and had vainly sought to instil into him her own 
 resolute spirit. "You do well," said she, " to weep as a woman 
 over what you could not defend as a man ; " a speech savoring 
 more of the pride of the princess than the tenderness of the 
 mother. 
 
 When this anecdote was related to Charles V. by Bishop 
 Guevara, the emperor joined in the expression of scorn at the 
 
120 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 weakness of the wavering Boabdil. " Had I been he, or had 
 he been I," said the haughty potentate, " I would rather have 
 made this Alhambra my sepulchre than have lived without a 
 kingdom in the Alpuxarra." How easy it is for those in power 
 and prosperity to preach heroism to the vanquished ! how little 
 can they understand that life itself may rise in value with the 
 unfortunate, when naught but life remains ! 
 
 Slowly descending the " Hill of Tears," I let my horse take 
 his own loitering gait back to Granada, while I turned the 
 story of the unfortunate Boabdil over in my mind. In summon 
 ing up the particulars, I found the balance inclining in his favor. 
 Throughout the whole of his brief, turbulent, and disastrous 
 reign, he gives evidence of a mild and amiable character. He, 
 in the first instance, won the hearts of his people by his affable 
 and gracious manners ; he was always placable, and never inflicted 
 any severity of punishment upon those who occasionally rebelled 
 against him. He was personally brave ; but wanted moral 
 courage ; and in times of difficulty and perplexity, was wavering 
 and irresolute. This feebleness of spirit hastened his downfall, 
 while it deprived him of that heroic grace which would have 
 given grandeur and dignity to his fate,, and rendered him worthy 
 of closing the splendid drama of the Moslem domination in 
 Spain. 
 
 1 Ay una puerta en la Alhambra por la qual salio Chico "Rey de 
 los Moros, quando si rindio prisionero al Rey de Espaila D. Fer 
 nando, y le entrego" la ciudad con el castillo. Pidio esta principe 
 como por merced, y en memoria de tan importante conquista, al 
 que quedasse siempre cerrada esta puerta. Consintio en allo el 
 Rey Fernando, y des de aquel tiempo no solamente no se abrio la 
 puerta sino tambien se construyo junto & ella fuerte bastion. 
 Moreri s Historical Dictionary. Spanish Edition, Vol. I. p. 372. 
 
 2 The minor details of the surrender of Granada have been stated 
 in different ways even by eye-witnesses. The author, in his revised 
 edition of the Conquest, has endeavored to adjust them according 
 to the latest and apparently best authorities, 
 
THE FETES OF GRANADA 121 
 
 PUBLIC FETES OF GRANADA 
 
 MY devoted squire and whilom ragged cicerone Mateo Ximenes 
 had a poor-devil passion for fetes and holidays, and was never so 
 eloquent as when detailing the civil and religious festivals at 
 Granada. During the preparations for the annual Catholic fete 
 of Corpus Chris ti, he was in a state of incessant transition 
 between the Alhambra and the subjacent city, bringing me 
 daily accounts of the magnificent arrangements that were in 
 progress, and endeavoring, but in vain, to lure me down from 
 my cool and airy retreat to witness them. At length, on the 
 eve of the eventful day, I yielded to his solicitations and 
 descended from the regal halls of the Alhambra under his escort, 
 as did of yore the adventure-seeking Haroun Alraschid under 
 that of his Grand Vizier GiafFar. Though it was yet scarce 
 sunset, the city gates were already thronged with the picturesque 
 villagers of the mountains, and the brown peasantry of the Vega. 
 Granada has ever been the rallying-place of a great mountainous 
 region, studded with towns and villages. Hither, during the 
 Moorish domination, the chivalry of this region repaired, to 
 join in the splendid and semi- warlike fetes of the Vivarrambla ; 
 and hither the elite of its population still resort to join in the 
 pompous ceremonials of the Church. Indeed, many of the 
 mountaineers from the Alpuxarras and the Sierra de Ronda, 
 who now bow to the cross as zealous Catholics, bear the stamp 
 of their Moorish origin, and are indubitable descendants of the 
 fickle subjects of Boabdil. 
 
 Under the guidance of Mateo, I made my way through streets 
 already teeming with a holiday population, to the square of 
 the Vivarrambla, that great place for tilts and tourneys so 
 often sung in the Moorish ballads of love and chivalry. A 
 gallery or arcade of wood had been erected along the sides of 
 the square, for the grand religious procession of the following 
 
122 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 day. This was brilliantly illuminated for the evening as a 
 promenade ; and bands of music were stationed on balconies on 
 each of the four facades of the square. All the fashion and 
 beauty of Granada, all of its population of either sex that 
 had good looks or fine clothes to display, thronged this arcade, 
 promenading round and round the Vivarrambla. Here, too, 
 were the Majos and Majas, the rural beaux and belles, with 
 fine forms, flashing eyes, and gay Andalusian costumes; some 
 of them from Eonda itself, that strong-hold of the mountains, 
 famous for contrabandistas, bull-fighters and beautiful women. 
 
 While this gay but motley throng kept up a constant circula 
 tion in the gallery, the centre of the square was occupied by 
 the peasantry from the surrounding country; who made no 
 pretensions to display, but came for simple, hearty enjoyment. 
 The whole square was covered with them ; forming separate 
 groups of families and neighborhoods, like gipsy encamp 
 ments, some were listening to the traditional ballad drawled 
 out to the tinkling of the guitar ; some were engaged in gay 
 conversation ; some were dancing to the click of the Castanet. 
 As I threaded my way through this teeming region with Mateo 
 at my heels, I passed occasionally some rustic party, seated on 
 the ground, making a merry though frugal repast. If they 
 caught my eye as I loitered by, they almost invariably invited 
 me to partake of their simple fare. This hospitable usage, 
 inherited from their Moslem invaders, and originating in the 
 tent of the Arab, is universal throughout the land, and observed 
 by the poorest Spaniard. 
 
 As the night advanced, the gayety gradually died away in 
 the arcades ; the bands of music ceased to play, and the brill 
 iant crowd dispersed to their homes. The centre of the square 
 still remained well peopled, and Mateo assured me that the 
 greater part of the peasantry, men, women, and children, would 
 pass the night there, sleeping on the bare earth beneath the 
 open canopy of heaven. Indeed, a summer night requires 
 
THE PROCESSION 123 
 
 no shelter in this favored climate; and a bed is a superfluity 
 which many of the hardy peasantry of Spain never enjoy, and 
 which some of them affect to despise. The common Spaniard 
 wraps himself in his brown cloak, stretches himself on his 
 manta or mule-cloth, and sleeps soundly, luxuriously accommo 
 dated if he can have a saddle for a pillow. . In a little while the 
 words of Mateo were made good ; the peasant multitude nestled 
 down on the ground to their night s repose, and by midnight 
 the scene on the Vivarrambla resembled the bivouac of an 
 army. 
 
 The next morning, accompanied by Mateo, I revisited the 
 square at sunrise. It was still strewed with groups of sleepers : 
 some were reposing from the dance and revel of the evening; 
 others, who had left their villages after work on the preceding 
 day, having trudged on foot the greater part of the night, were 
 taking a sound sleep to freshen themselves for the festivities of 
 the day. Numbers from the mountains, and the remote villages 
 of the plain, who had set out in the night, continued to arrive 
 with their wives and children. All were in high spirits ; 
 greeting each other and exchanging jokes and pleasantries. 
 The gay tumult thickened as the day advanced. Now came 
 pouring in at the city gates, and parading through the streets, 
 the deputations from the various villages, destined to swell the 
 grand procession. These village deputations were headed by 
 their priests, bearing their respective crosses and banners, and 
 images of the blessed Virgin and of patron saints ; all of which 
 were matters of great rivalship and jealousy among the peas 
 antry. It was like the chivalrous gatherings of ancient days, 
 when each town and village sent its chiefs, and warriors, and 
 standards, to defend the capital, or grace its festivities. 
 
 At length all these various detachments congregated into one 
 grand pageant, which slowly paraded round the Vivarrambla, 
 and through the principal streets, where every window and 
 balcony was hung with tapestry. In this procession were all 
 
124 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the religious orders, the civil and military authorities, and the 
 chief people of the parishes and villages : every church and 
 convent had contributed its banners, its images, its relics, and 
 poured forth its wealth for the occasion. In the centre of the 
 procession walked the archbishop, under a damask canopy, and 
 surrounded by inferior dignitaries and their dependants. The 
 whole moved to the swell and cadence of numerous bands of 
 music, and, passing through the midst of a countless yet silent 
 multitude, proceeded onward to the cathedral. 
 
 I could not but be struck with the changes of times and 
 customs, as I saw this monkish pageant passing through the 
 Vivarrambla, the ancient seat of Moslem pomp and chivalry. 
 The contrast was indeed forced upon the mind by the decora 
 tions of the square. The whole front of the wooden gallery 
 erected for the procession, extending several hundred feet, was 
 faced with canvas, on which some humble though patriotic 
 artist had painted, by contract, a series of the principal scenes 
 and exploits of the Conquest, as recorded in chronicle and 
 romance. It is thus the romantic legends of Granada mingle 
 themselves with everything, and are kept fresh in the public 
 mind. 
 
 As we wended our way back to the Alhambra, Mateo was in 
 high glee and garrulous vein. "Ah, Senor," exclaimed he, 
 " there is no place in all the world like Granada for grand cere 
 monies (funciones grandes); a man need spend nothing on 
 pleasure here, it is all furnished him gratis." "Pero, el dia de 
 la Tomaf Ah, Senor/ el dia de la Tomaf" (But the day of 
 the Taking ! ah, Senor, the day of the Taking ! ) that was 
 the great day which crowned Mateo s notions of perfect felicity. 
 The Dia de la Toma, I found, was the anniversary of the capture 
 or taking possession of Granada by the army of Ferdinand and 
 Isabella. 
 
 On that day, according to Mateo, the whole city is abandoned 
 to revelry. The great alarm-bell on the watch-tower of the 
 
EL DIA DE LA TOMA 125 
 
 Alhambra (la Torre de la vela) sends forth its clanging peals 
 from morn till night ; the sound pervades the whole Vega, and 
 echoes along the mountains, summoning the peasantry from far 
 and near .to the festivities of the metropolis. " Happy the 
 damsel," says Mateo, " who can get a chance to ring that bell ; 
 it is a charm to insure a husband within the year." 
 
 Throughout the day the Alhambra is thrown open to the 
 public. Its halls and courts, where the Moorish monarchs once 
 held sway, resound with the guitar and castanet, and gay groups, 
 in the fanciful dresses of Andalusia, perform their traditional 
 dances inherited from the Moors. 
 
 A grand procession, emblematic of the taking possession of 
 the city, moves through the principal streets. The banner of 
 Ferdinand and Isabella, that precious relic of the Conquest, is 
 brought forth from its depository, and borne in triumph by the 
 Alferez mayor, or grand standard-bearer. The portable camp- 
 altar, carried about with the sovereigns in all their campaigns, 
 is transported into the chapel royal of the cathedral, and placed 
 before their sepulchre, where their effigies lie in monumental 
 marble. High mass is then performeoin memory of the Con 
 quest ; and at a certain part of the ceremony the Alferez mayor 
 puts on his hat, and waves the standard above the tomb of the 
 - conquerors. 
 
 A more whimsical memorial of the Conquest is exhibited in 
 the evening at the theatre. A popular drama is performed, 
 entitled AVE MARIA, turning on a famous achievement of Her- 
 nando del Pulgar, surnamed "el de las Hazanas " (he of the 
 exploits), a madcap warrior, the favorite hero of the populace of 
 Granada. During the time of the siege, the young Moorish 
 and Spanish cavaliers vied with each other in extravagant 
 bravadoes. On one occasion this Hernando del Pulgar, at 
 the head of a handful of followers, made a clash into Granada 
 in the dead of the night, nailed the inscription of AVE MARIA 
 with his dagger to the gate of the principal mosque, a token of 
 
126 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 having consecrated it to the Virgin, and effected his retreat in 
 safety. 1 
 
 While the Moorish cavaliers admired this daring exploit, they 
 felt bound to resent it. On the following day, therefore, Tarfe, 
 one of the stoutest among them, paraded in front of the Chris 
 tian army, dragging the tablet bearing the sacred inscription 
 AVE MARIA, at his horse s tail. The cause of the Virgin was 
 eagerly vindicated by Garcilaso de la Vega, who slew the Moor 
 in single combat, and elevated the tablet in devotion and triumph 
 at the end of his lance. 
 
 The drama founded on this exploit is prodigiously popular 
 with the common people. Although it has been acted time out 
 of mind, it never fails to draw crowds, who become completely 
 lost in the delusions of the scene. When their favorite Pulgar 
 strides about with many a mouthy speech, in the very midst of 
 the Moorish capital, he is cheered with enthusiastic bravos ; and 
 when he nails the tablet to the door of the mosque, the theatre 
 absolutely shakes with the thunders of applause. On the other 
 hand, the unlucky actors who figure in the part of the Moors 
 have to bear the brunt of popular indignation ; which at times 
 equals that of the Hero of Lamanche, at the puppet-show of 
 Gines de Passamonte ; for, when the infidel Tarfe plucks down 
 the tablet to tie it to his horse s tail, some of the audience rise 
 in fury, and are ready to jump upon the stage to revenge this 
 insult to the Virgin. 
 
 By the way, the actual lineal descendant of Hernando del 
 Pulgar was the Marquis de Sa lar. As the legitimate represent 
 ative of that madcap hero, and in commemoration and reward 
 of this hero s exploit above mentioned, he inherited the right to 
 enter the cathedral on certain occasions, on horseback; to sit 
 within the choir, and to put on his hat at the elevation of the 
 host, though these privileges were often and obstinately con 
 tested by the clergy. I met him occasionally in society; he 
 was young, of agreeable appearance and manners, with bright 
 
VILLAGE CEREMONIALS 127 
 
 black eyes, in which appeared to lurk some of the fire of his 
 ancestors. Among the paintings in the Vivarrambla, on the 
 fete of Corpus Christi, were some depicting, in vivid style, 
 the exploits of the family hero. An old gray-headed servant 
 of the Pulgars shed tears on beholding them, and hurried home 
 to inform the marquis. The eager zeal and enthusiasm of the 
 old domestic only provoked a light laugh from his young master; 
 whereupon, turning to the brother of the marquis, with that 
 freedom allowed in Spain to old family servants, " Come, Senor," 
 cried he, " you are more considerate than your brother ; come 
 and see your ancestor in all his glory ! " 
 
 In emulation of this great Dia de la Toma of Granada, 
 almost every village and petty town of the mountains has its 
 own anniversary, commemorating with rustic pomp and uncouth 
 ceremonial its deliverance from the Moorish yoke. On these 
 occasions, according to Mateo, a kind of resurrection takes place 
 of ancient armor and weapons : great two-handed swords, pon 
 derous arquebuses with matchlocks, and other warlike relics, 
 treasured up from generation to generation, since the time of 
 the Conquest ; and happy the community that possesses some 
 old piece of ordinance, peradventure one of the identical lombards 
 used by the conquerors ; it is kept thundering along the moun 
 tains all day long, provided the community can afford sufficient 
 expenditure of powder. 
 
 In the course of the day a kind of warlike drama is enacted. 
 Some of the populace parade the streets, fitted out with the old 
 armor, as champions of the faith. Others appear dressed up as 
 Moorish warriors. A tent is pitched in the public square, in 
 closing an altar with an image of the Virgin. The Christian 
 warriors approach to perform their devotions ; the infidels sur 
 round the tent to prevent their entrance ; a mock fight ensues ; 
 the combatants sometimes forget that they are merely playing 
 a part, and dry blows of grievous weight are apt to be ex 
 changed. The contest, however, invariably terminates in favor 
 
128 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 of the good cause. The Moors are defeated and taken prisoners. 
 The image of the Virgin, rescued from thraldom, is elevated in 
 triumph ; a grand procession succeeds, in which the conquerors fig 
 ure with great applause and vainglory; while their captives are led 
 in chains, to the evident delight and edification of the spectators. 
 
 These celebrations are heavy drains on the treasuries of these 
 petty communities, and have sometimes to be suspended for 
 want of funds ; but, when times grow better, or sufficient money 
 has been hoarded for the purpose, they are resumed with new 
 zeal and prodigality. 
 
 Mateo informed me that he had occasionally assisted at these 
 fetes and taken a part in the combats ; but always on the true 
 faith. " Porque Senor" added the ragged descendant of the Car 
 dinal Ximenes, tapping his breast with something of an air, 
 "porque Senor, soy Christiana viejo." 
 
 1 See a more detailed account of the exploit in the chronicle of 
 the Conquest of Granada. 
 
 LOCAL TRADITIONS 
 
 THE common people of Spain have an Oriental passion for 
 story-telling, and are fond of the marvellous. They will gather 
 round the doors of their cottages in summer evenings, or in the 
 great cavernous chimney-corners of the ventas in the winter, and 
 listen with insatiable delight to miraculous legends of saints, 
 perilous adventures of travellers, and daring exploits of robbers 
 and contrabandistas. The wild and solitary character of the 
 country, the imperfect diffusion of knowledge, the scarceness 
 of general topics of conversation, and the romantic, adventurous 
 life that every one leads in a land where travelling is yet in its 
 primitive state, all contribute to cherish this love of oral narra 
 tion, and to produce a strong infusion of the extravagant and 
 incredible. There is no theme, however, more prevalent and 
 
LOCAL TRADITIONS 129 
 
 popular than that of treasures buried by the Moors ; it pervades 
 the whole country. In traversing the wild sierras, the scenes 
 of ancient foray and exploit, you cannot see a Moorish atalaya, or 
 watch-tower, perched among the cliffs, or beetling above its rock- 
 built village, but your muleteer, on being closely questioned, will 
 suspend the smoking of his cigarillo to tell some tale of Moslem 
 gold buried beneath its foundations; nor is there a ruined alcazar 
 in a city but has its golden tradition, handed down from genera 
 tion to generation among the poor people of the neighborhood. 
 
 These, like most popular fictions, have sprung from some 
 scanty groundwork of fact. During the wars between Moor 
 and Christian, which distracted this country for centuries, 
 towns and castles were liable frequently and suddenly to change 
 owners, and the inhabitants, during sieges and assaults, were 
 fain to bury their money and jewels in the earth, or hide them in 
 vaults and wells, as is often done at the present day in the des 
 potic and belligerent countries of the East. At the time of the 
 expulsion of the Moors also, many of them concealed their most 
 precious effects, hoping that their exile would be but temporary, 
 and that they would be enabled to return and retrieve their 
 treasures at some future day. It is certain that from time to 
 time hoards of gold and silver coin have been accidentally digged 
 up, after a lapse of centuries, from among the ruins of Moorish 
 fortresses and habitations ; and it requires but a few facts of 
 the kind to give birth to a thousand fictions. 
 
 The stories thus originating have generally something of an 
 Oriental tinge, and are marked with that mixture of the Arabic 
 and the Gothic which seems to me to characterize everything 
 in Spain, and especially in its southern provinces. The hidden 
 wealth is always laid under magic spell, and secured by charm 
 and talisman. Sometimes it is guarded by uncouth monsters or 
 fiery dragons, sometimes by enchanted Moors, who sit by it in 
 armor, with drawn swords, but motionless as statues, main 
 taining a sleepless watch for ages. 
 
130 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The Alhambra of course, from the peculiar circumstances of 
 its history, is a strong-hold for popular fictions of the kind; 
 and various relics, digged up from time to time, have contrib 
 uted to strengthen them. At one time an earthen vessel was 
 found containing Moorish coins and the skeleton of a cock, 
 which, according to the opinion of certain shrewd inspectors, 
 must have been buried alive. At another time a vessel was 
 dug up containing a great scarabseus or beetle of baked clay, 
 covered with Arabic inscriptions, which was pronounced a pro 
 digious amulet of occult virtues. In this way the wits of the 
 ragged brood who inhabit the Alhambra have been set wool 
 gathering, until there is not a hall, nor tower, nor vault, of the 
 old fortress, that has not been made the scene of some mar 
 vellous tradition. Having, I trust, in the preceding papers 
 made the reader in some degree familiar with the localities of 
 the Alhambra, I shall now launch out more largely into the 
 wonderful legends connected with it, and which I have dili 
 gently wrought into shape and form, from various legendary 
 scraps and hints picked up in the course of my perambulations, 
 in the same manner that an antiquary works out a regular 
 historical document from a few scattered letters of an almost 
 defaced inscription. 
 
 If anything in these legends should shock the faith of the 
 over-scrupulous reader, he must remember the nature of the 
 place, and make due allowances. He must not expect here 
 the same laws of probability that govern commonplace scenes 
 and every-day life ; he must remember that he treads the halls 
 of an enchanted palace, and that all is " haunted ground." 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK 
 
 ON the brow of the lofty hill of the Albaycin, the highest 
 part of Granada, and which rises from the narrow valley of the 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK 131 
 
 Darro, directly opposite to the Alhambra, stands all that is left 
 of what was once a royal palace of the Moors. It has, in fact, 
 fallen into such obscurity, that it cost me much trouble to find 
 it, though aided in my researches by the sagacious and all- 
 knowing Mateo Ximenes. This edifice has borne for centuries 
 the name of "The House of the Weathercock" (La casa del 
 Gallo de Viento), from a bronze figure on one of its turrets, in 
 ancient times, of a warrior on horseback, and turning with every 
 breeze. This weathercock was considered by the Moslems of 
 Granada a portentous talisman. According to some traditions, 
 it bore the following Arabic inscription : 
 
 Calet el Bedici Aben Habuz, 
 Quidat ehahet Lindabuz. 
 
 Which has been rendered in Spanish : 
 
 Dice el sabio Aben Habuz, 
 Que asi se defiende el Anduluz. 
 
 And into English : 
 
 ID this way, says Aben Habuz the Wise, 
 Andaluz guards against surprise. 
 
 This Aben Habuz, according to some of the old Moorish 
 chronicles, was a captain in the invading army of Taric, one 
 of the conquerors of Spain, who left him as Alcayde of Granada. 
 He is supposed to have intended this effigy as a perpetual warn 
 ing to the Moslems of Andaluz, that, surrounded by foes, their 
 safety depended upon their being always on their guard and 
 ready for the field. 
 
 Others, among whom is the Christian historian Marmol, 
 affirms "Badis Aben Habus" to have been a Moorish sultan 
 of Granada, and that the weathercock was intended as a per 
 petual admonition of the instability of Moslem power, bearing 
 the following words in Arabic ; 
 
132 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 " Thus Ibn Habus al badise predicts Andalus shall one day 
 vanish and pass away." l 
 
 Another version of this portentous inscription is given by a 
 Moslem historian, on the authority of Sidi Hasan, a faquir who 
 flourished about the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, and who 
 was present at the taking down of the weathercock, when the 
 old Kassaba was undergoing repairs. 
 
 "I saw it," says the venerable faquir, "with my own eyes; 
 it was of a heptagonal shape, and had the following inscription 
 in verse : 
 
 " The palace at fair Granada presents a talisman." 
 
 " The horseman, though a solid body, turns with every wind." 
 
 " This to a wise man reveals a mystery. In a little while 
 comes a calamity to ruin both the palace and its owner." 
 
 In effect it was not long after this meddling with the por 
 tentous weathercock that the following event occurred. As 
 old Muley Abul Hassan, the king of Granada, was seated under 
 a sumptuous pavilion, reviewing his troops, who paraded be 
 fore him in armor of polished steel and gorgeous silken robes, 
 mounted on fleet steeds, and equipped with swords, spears, and 
 shields embossed with gold and silver, suddenly a tempest 
 was seen hurrying from the southwest. In a little while black 
 clouds overshadowed the heavens and burst forth with a deluge 
 of rain. Torrents came roaring down from the mountains, 
 bringing with them rocks and trees ; the Darro overflowed its 
 banks ; mills were swept away, bridges destroyed, gardens 
 laid waste ; the inundation rushed into the city, undermining 
 houses, drowning their inhabitants, and overflowing even the 
 square of the Great Mosque. The people rushed in affright to 
 the mosques to implore the mercy of Allah, regarding this 
 uproar of the elements as the harbinger of dreadful calamities ; 
 and, indeed, according to the Arabian historian Al Makkari, it 
 was but a type and prelude of the direful war which ended in 
 the downfall of the Moslem kingdom of Granada. 
 
LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER 133 
 
 I have thus given historic authorities sufficient to show the 
 portentous mysteries connected with the House of the Weather 
 cock, and its talismanic horseman. 
 
 I now proceed to relate still more surprising things about 
 Aben Habuz and his palace; for the truth of which, should 
 any doubt be entertained, I refer the dubious reader to Mateo 
 Ximenes and his fellow-historiographers of the Alhambra. 
 
 1 Marmol, Hist. Rebellion of the Moors. 
 
 LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER 
 
 IN old times, many hundred years ago, there was a Moorish 
 king named Aben Habuz, who reigned over the kingdom of 
 Granada. He was a retired conqueror, that is to say, one who, 
 having in his more youthful days led a life of constant foray and 
 depredation, now that he was grown feeble and superannuated, 
 " languished for repose," and desired nothing more than to live 
 at peace with all the world, to husband his laurels, and to en 
 joy in quiet the possessions he had wrested from his neighbors. 
 
 It so happened, however, that this most reasonable and pacific 
 old monarch had young rivals to deal with ; princes full of his 
 early passion for fame and fighting, and who were disposed to 
 call him to account for the scores he had run up with their 
 fathers. Certain distant districts of his own territories, also, 
 which during the days of his vigor he had treated with a high 
 hand, were prone, now that he languished for repose, to rise in 
 rebellion and threaten to invest him in his capital. Thus he 
 had foes on every side ; and as Granada is surrounded by wild 
 and craggy mountains, which hide the approach of an enemy, 
 the unfortunate Aben Habuz was kept in a constant state of 
 vigilance and alarm, not knowing in what quarter hostilities-, 
 might break out. 
 
 It was in vain that he built watch-towers on the mountains, 
 
134 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 and stationed guards at every pass with orders to make fires by 
 night and smoke by day, on the approach of an enemy. His 
 alert foes, baffling every precaution, would break out of some 
 un though t-of defile, ravage his lands beneath his very nose, and 
 then make off with prisoners and booty to the mountains. Was 
 ever peaceable and retired conqueror in a more uncomfortable 
 predicament 1 
 
 While Aben Habuz was harassed by these perplexities and 
 molestations, an ancient Arabian physician arrived at his court. 
 His gray beard descended to his girdle, and he had every mark 
 of extreme age, yet he had travelled almost the whole way 
 from Egypt on foot, with no other aid than a staff, marked 
 with hieroglyphics. His fame had preceded him. His name 
 was Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub ; he is said to have lived ever 
 since the days of Mahomet, and to be son of Abu Ayub ; the 
 last of the companions of the Prophet. He had, when a child, 
 followed the conquering army of Amru into Egypt, where he 
 had remained many years studying the dark sciences, and par 
 ticularly magic, among the Egyptian priests. 
 
 It was, moreover, said that he had found out the secret of 
 prolonging life, by means of which he had arrived to the great 
 age of upwards of two centuries, though, as he did not discover 
 the secret until well stricken in years, he could only perpetuate 
 his gray hairs and wrinkles. 
 
 This wonderful old man was honorably entertained by the 
 king; who, like most superannuated monarchs, began to take 
 physicians into great favor. He would have assigned him an 
 apartment in his palace, but the astrologer preferred a cave in 
 the side of the hill which rises above the city of Granada, being 
 the same on which the Alhambra has since been built. He 
 caused the cave to be enlarged so as to form a spacious and lofty 
 hall, with a circular hole at the top, through which, as through 
 a well, he could see the heavens and behold the stars even at 
 mid-day. The walls of this hall were covered with Egyptian 
 
THE MARVEL OF BORSA 135 
 
 hieroglyphics with cabalistic symbols, and with the figures of the 
 stars in their signs. This hall he furnished with many implements, 
 fabricated under his directions by cunning artificers of Granada, 
 but the occult properties of which were known only to himself. 
 
 In a little while the sage Ibrahim became the bosom counsellor 
 of the king, who applied to him for advice in every emergency. 
 Aben Habuz was once inveighing against the injustice of his 
 neighbors, and bewailing the restless vigilance he had to ob 
 serve to guard himself against their invasions ; when he had 
 finished, the astrologer remained silent for a moment, and then 
 replied, "Know, king, that, when I was in Egypt, I beheld 
 a great marvel devised by a pagan priestess of old. On a 
 mountain, above the city of Borsa, and overlooking the great 
 valley of the Nile, was a figure of a ram, and above it a figure 
 of a cock, both of molten brass, and turning upon a pivot. 
 Whenever the country was threatened with invasion, the ram 
 would turn in the direction of the enemy, and the cock would 
 crow ; upon this the inhabitants of the city knew of the danger, 
 and of the quarter from which it was approaching, and could 
 take timely means to guard against it." 
 
 "God is great!" exclaimed the pacific Aben Habuz, "what 
 a treasure would be such a ram to keep an eye upon these 
 mountains around me ; and then such a cock, to crow in time 
 of danger ! Allah Akbar ! how securely I might sleep in my 
 palace with such sentinels on the top ! " 
 
 The astrologer waited until the ecstasies of the king had sub 
 sided, and then proceeded. 
 
 " After the victorious Amru (may he rest in peace !) had 
 finished his conquest of Egypt, I remained among the priests of 
 the land, studying the rites and ceremonies of their idolatrous 
 faith, and seeking to make myself master of the hidden knowl 
 edge for which they are renowned. I was one day seated on 
 the banks of the Nile, conversing with an ancient priest, when 
 he pointed to the mighty pyramids which rose like mountains 
 
136 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 out of the neighboring desert. All that we can teach thee, 
 said he, is nothing to the knowledge locked up in those mighty 
 piles. In the centre of the central pyramid is a sepulchral 
 chamber, in which is inclosed the mummy of the high -priest 
 who aided in rearing that stupendous pile ; and with him is 
 buried a wondrous book of knowledge, containing all the secrets 
 of magic and art. This book was given to Adam after his fall, 
 and was handed down from generation to generation to King 
 Solomon the Wise, and by its aid he built the Temple of 
 Jerusalem. How it came into the possession of the builder of 
 the pyramids is known to him alone who knows all things. 
 
 " When I heard these words of the Egyptian priest, my 
 heart burned to get possession of that book. I could command 
 the services of many of the soldiers of our conquering army, and 
 of a number of the native Egyptians : with these I set to work, 
 and pierced the solid mass of the pyramid, until, after great toil, I 
 came upon one of its interior and hidden passages. Following 
 this up, and threading a fearful labyrinth, I penetrated into the 
 very heart of the pyramids, even to the sepulchral chamber, 
 where the mummy of the high-priest had lain for ages. I broke 
 through the outer cases of the mummy, unfolded its many wrap 
 pers and bandages, and at length found the precious volume on its 
 bosom. I seized it with a trembling hand, and groped my way out 
 of the pyramid, leaving the mummy in its dark and silent sepul 
 chre, there to await the final day of resurrection and judgment." 
 
 "Son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed Aben Habuz, "thou hast 
 been a great traveller, and seen marvellous things ; but of what 
 avail to me is the secret of the pyramid, and the volume of 
 knowledge of the wise Solomon ? " 
 
 "This it is, king ! By the study of that book I am in 
 structed in all magic arts, and can command the assistance of 
 genii to accomplish my plans. The mystery of the Talisman 
 of Borsa is therefore familiar to me, and such a talisman can I 
 make, nay, one of greater virtues." 
 
THE WARLIKE TALISMAN 137 
 
 " wise son of Abu Ayub," cried Aben Habuz, " better were 
 such a talisman than all the watch-towers on the hills, and 
 sentinels upon the borders. Give me such a safeguard, and the 
 riches of my treasury are at thy command." 
 
 The astrologer immediately set to work to gratify the wishes 
 of the monarch. He caused a great tower to be erected upon 
 the top of the royal palace, which stood on the brow of the hill 
 of the Albaycin. The tower was built of stones brought from 
 Egypt, and taken, it is said, from one of the pyramids. In the 
 upper part of the tower was a circular hall, with windows look 
 ing towards every point of the compass, and before each win 
 dow was a table, on which was arranged, as on a chess-board, 
 a mimic army of horse and foot, with the effigy of the potentate 
 that ruled in that direction, all carved of wood. To each of 
 these tables there was a small lance, no bigger than a bodkin, 
 on which were engraved certain Chaldaic characters. This hall 
 was kept constantly closed, by a"~gafe of brass, with a great 
 lock of steel, the key of which was in possession of the king. 
 
 On the top of the tower was a bronze figure of a Moorish 
 horseman, fixed on a pivot, with a shield on one arm, and his 
 lance elevated perpendicularly. The face of this horseman was 
 towards the city, as if keeping guard over it ; but if any foe 
 were at hand, the figure would turn in that direction, and would 
 level the lance as if for action. 
 
 When this talisman was finished, Aben Habuz was all im 
 patient to try its virtues, and longed as ardently for an inva 
 sion as he had ever sighed after repose. His desire was soon 
 gratified. Tidings were brought, early one morning, by the 
 sentinel appointed to watch the tower, that the face of the 
 bronze horseman was turned towards the mountains of Elvira, 
 and that his lance pointed directly against the Pass of Lope. 
 
 " Let the drums and trumpets sound to arms, and all Gran 
 ada be put on the alert," said Aben Habuz. 
 
 "0 king," said the astrologer, "let not your city be dis- 
 
138 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 quieted, nor your warriors called to arms ; we need no aid of 
 force to deliver you from your enemies. Dismiss your attend 
 ants, and let us proceed alone to the secret hall of the tower." 
 
 The ancient Aben Habuz mounted the staircase of the tower, 
 leaning on the arm of the still more ancient Ibrahim Ebn Abu 
 Ayub. They unlocked the brazen door and entered. The win 
 dow that looked towards the Pass of Lope was open. "In 
 this direction," said the astrologer, "lies the danger; approach, 
 king, and behold the mystery of the table." 
 
 King Aben Habuz approached the seeming chess-board on 
 which were arranged the small wooden effigies, when, to his 
 surprise, he perceived that they were all in motion. The horses 
 pranced and curveted, the warriors brandished their weapons, 
 and there was a faint sound of drums and trumpets, and the 
 clang of arms, and neighing of steeds ; but all no louder, nor 
 more distinct, than the hum of the bee, or the summer-fly, in 
 the drowsy ear of him who lies at noontide in the shade. 
 
 "Behold, king," said the astrologer, "a proof that thy 
 enemies are even now in the field. They must be advancing 
 through yonder mountains, by the Pass of Lope. Would you 
 produce a panic and confusion amongst them, and cause them 
 to retreat without loss of life, strike these effigies with the but- 
 end of this magic lance ; would you cause bloody feud and car 
 nage, strike with the point." 
 
 A livid streak passed across the countenance of Aben Habuz 
 he seized the lance with trembling eagerness ; his gray beard 
 wagged with exultation as he tottered towards the table : " Son 
 of Abu Ayub," exclaimed he, in chuckling tone, " I think we 
 will have a little blood ! " 
 
 So saying, he thrust the magic lance into some of the pigmy 
 effigies, and belabored others with the but-end, upon which the 
 former fell as dead upon the board, and the rest, turning upon 
 each other, began, pell-mell, a chance-medley fight. 
 
 It was with difficulty the astrologer could stay the hand of 
 
THE HERMITAGE 139 
 
 the most pacific of monarchs, and prevent him from absolutely 
 exterminating his foes; at length he prevailed upon him to 
 leave the tower, and to send out scouts to the mountains by 
 the Pass of Lope. 
 
 They returned with the intelligence that a Christian army 
 had advanced through the heart of the Sierra, almost within 
 sight of Granada, where a dissension had broken out among 
 them ; they had turned their weapons against each other, and 
 after much slaughter had returned over the border. 
 
 Aben Habuz was transported with joy on thus proving the 
 efficacy of the talisman. " At length," said he, "I shall lead 
 a life of tranquillity, and have all my enemies in my power. 
 wise son of Abu Ayub, what can I bestow on thee in reward 
 for such a blessing ? " 
 
 " The wants of an old man and a philosopher, king, are 
 few and simple ; grant me but the means of fitting up my cave 
 as a suitable hermitage, and I am content." 
 
 " How noble is the moderation of the truly wise ! " exclaimed 
 Aben Habuz, secretly pleased at the cheapness of the recom 
 pense. He summoned his treasurer, and bade him dispense 
 whatever sums might be required by Ibrahim to complete and 
 furnish his hermitage. 
 
 The astrologer now gave orders to have various chambers 
 hewn out of the solid rock, so as to form ranges of apartments 
 connected with his astrological hall ; these he caused to be fur 
 nished with luxurious ottomans and divans, and the walls to be 
 hung with the richest silks of Damascus. " I am an old man," 
 said he, "and can no longer rest my bones on stone couches, and 
 these damp walls require covering." 
 
 He had baths too constructed, and provided with all kinds of 
 perfumes and aromatic oils. " For a bath," said he, "is neces 
 sary to counteract the rigidity of age, and to restore freshness 
 and suppleness to the frame withered by study." 
 
 He caused the apartments to be hung with innumerable silver 
 
140 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 and crystal lamps, which he filled with a fragrant oil prepared 
 according to a receipt discovered by him in the tombs of Egypt. 
 This oil was perpetual in its nature, and diffused a soft radiance 
 like the tempered light of day. " The light of the sun," said 
 he, "is too gairish and violent for the eyes of an old man, and 
 the light of the lamp is more congenial to the studies of a 
 philosopher." 
 
 The treasurer of King Aben Habuz groaned at the sums daily 
 demanded to fit up this hermitage, and he carried his complaints 
 to the king. The royal word, however, had been given ; Aben 
 Habuz shrugged his shoulders : "We must have patience," said 
 he ; " this old man has taken his idea of a philosophic retreat 
 from the interior of the pyramids, and of the vast ruins of 
 Egypt ; but all things have an end, and so will the furnishing 
 of his cavern." 
 
 The king was in the right ; the hermitage was at length 
 complete, and formed a sumptuous subterranean palace. The 
 astrologer expressed himself perfectly content, and, shutting 
 himself up, remained for three whole days buried in study. 
 At the end of that time he appeared again before the treasurer. 
 "One thing more is necessary," said he, "one trifling solace for 
 the intervals of mental labor." 
 
 " wise Ibrahim, I am bound to furnish everything necessary 
 for thy solitude ; what more dost thou require ? " 
 
 "I would fain have a few dancing-women." 
 
 " Dancing-women ! " echoed the treasurer, with surprise. 
 
 "Dancing- women," replied the sage, gravely; "and let them 
 be young and fair to look upon ; for the sight of youth and 
 beauty is refreshing. A few will suffice, for I am a philosopher 
 of simple habits and easily satisfied." 
 
 While the philosophic Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub passed his 
 time thus sagely in his hermitage, the pacific Aben Habuz 
 carried on furious campaigns in effigy in his tower. It was a 
 glorious thing for an old man, like himself, of quiet habits, to 
 
THE SOLACE OF A PHILOSOPHER 141 
 
 have war made easy, and to be enabled to amuse himself in his 
 chamber by brushing away whole armies like so many swarms 
 of flies. 
 
 For a time he rioted in the indulgence of his humors, and 
 even taunted and insulted his neighbors, to induce them to 
 make ijiQimdojis ; but by degrees they grew wary from repeated 
 disasters, until no one ventured to invade his territories. For 
 many months the bronze horseman remained on the peace 
 establishment, with his lance elevated in the air; and the 
 worthy old monarch began to repine at the want of his accus 
 tomed sport, and to grow peevish at his monotonous tranquillity. 
 
 At length, one day, the talismanic horseman veered suddenly 
 round, and lowering his lance, made a dead point towards the 
 mountains of Guadix. Aben Habuz hastened to his tower, but 
 the magic table in that direction remained quiet : not a single 
 warrior was in motion. Perplexed at the circumstance, he sent 
 forth a troop of horse to scour the mountains and reconnoitre. 
 They returned after three days absence. 
 
 "We have searched every mountain pass," said they, "but 
 not a helm nor a spear was stirring. All that we have found 
 in the course of our foray, was a Christian damsel of surpassing 
 beauty, sleeping at noontide beside a fountain, whom we have 
 brought away captive." 
 
 "A damsel of surpassing beauty!" exclaimed Aben Habuz, 
 his eyes gleaming with animation ; " let her be conducted into 
 my presence." 
 
 The beautiful damsel was accordingly conducted into his pres 
 ence. She was arrayed with all the luxury of ornament that 
 had prevailed among the Gothic Spaniards at the time of the 
 Arabian conquest. Pearls of dazzling whiteness were entwined 
 with her raven tresses ; and jewels sparkled on her forehead, 
 rivalling the lustre of her eyes. Around her neck was a golden 
 chain, to which was suspended a silver lyre, which hung by her 
 side. 
 
142 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The flashes of her dark refulgent, eye were like sparks of fire 
 on the withered, yet combustible, heart of Aben Habuz ; the 
 swimming voluptuousness of her gait made his senses reel. 
 "Fairest of women," cried he, with rapture, "who and what 
 art thou ? " 
 
 " The daughter of one of the Gothic princes, who but lately 
 ruled over this land. The armies of my father have been de 
 stroyed, as if by magic, among these mountains ; he has been 
 driven into exile, and his daughter is a captive." 
 
 " Beware, king ! " whispered Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub, 
 " this may be one of those northern sorceresses^ of whom we 
 have heard, who assume the most seductive forms to beguile 
 the unwary. Methinks I read witchcraft in her eye, and sor 
 cery in every movement. Doubtless this is the enemy pointed 
 out by the talisman." 
 
 " Son of Abu Ayub," replied the king, "thou art a wise man, 
 I grant, a conjurer for aught I know ; but thou art little versed 
 in the ways of woman. In that knowledge will I yield to no 
 man ; no, not to the wise Solomon himself, notwithstanding the 
 number of his wives and concubines. As to this damsel, I see 
 no harm in her ; she is fair to look upon, and finds favor in my 
 eyes." 
 
 " Hearken, king ! " replied the astrologer. " I have given 
 thee many victories by means of my talisman, but have never 
 shared any of the spoil. Give me then this stray captive, to 
 solace me in my solitude with her silver lyre. If she be in 
 deed a sorceress, I have counter spells that set her charms at 
 defiance." 
 
 "What! more women!" cried Aben Habuz. "Hast thou 
 not already dancing-women enough to solace thee ? " 
 
 " Dancing- women have I, it is true, but no singing-women. 
 I would fain have a little minstrelsy to refresh my mind when 
 weary with the toils of study." 
 
 "A truce with thy hermit cravings," said the king, hn- 
 
THE CAPTIVE BEAUTY 143 
 
 patiently. " This damsel have I marked for my own. I see 
 much comfort in her : even such comfort as David, the father 
 of Solomon the Wise, found in the society of Abishag the 
 Shunamite." 
 
 Further solicitations and remonstrances of the astrologer only 
 provoked a more peremptory reply from the monarch, and they 
 parted in high displeasure. The sage shut himself up in his 
 hermitage to brood over his disappointment ; ere he departed, 
 however, he gave the king one more warning to beware of his 
 dangerous captive. But where is the old man in love that will 
 listen to counsel 1 Aben Habuz resigned himself to the full 
 sway of his passion. His only study was how to render him 
 self amiable in the eyes of the Gothic beauty. He had not 
 youth to recommend him, it is true, but then he had riches ; 
 and when a lover is old, he is generally generous. The Zacatin 
 of Granada was ransacked for the most precious merchandise of 
 the East ; silks, jewels, precious gems, exquisite perfumes, all 
 that Asia and Africa yielded of rich and rare, were lavished 
 upon the princess. All kinds of spectacles and festivities were 
 devised for her entertainment ; minstrelsy, dancing, tournaments, 
 bull-fights ; Granada for a time was a scene of perpetual pa 
 geant. The Gothic princess regarded all this splendor with the 
 air of one accustomed to magnificence. She received everything 
 as a homage due to her rank, or rather to her beauty ; for 
 beauty is more lofty in its exactions even than rank. Nay, she 
 seemed to take a secret pleasure in exciting the monarch to ex 
 penses that made his treasury shrink, and then treating his 
 extravagant generosity as a mere matter of course. With all 
 his assiduity and munificence, also, the venerable lover could 
 not flatter himself that he had made any impression on her 
 heart. She never frowned on him, it is true, but then she 
 never smiled. Whenever he began to plead his passion, she 
 struck her silver lyre. There was a mystic charm in the sound. 
 In an instant the monarch began to nod ; a drowsiness stole 
 
144 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 over him, and he gradually sank into a sleep, from which he 
 awoke wonderfully refreshed, but perfectly cooled for the time 
 of his passion. This was very baffling to his suit ; but then 
 these slumbers were accompanied by agreeable dreams, which 
 completely enthralled the senses of the drowsy lover ; so he 
 continued to dream on, while all Granada scoffed at his infatua 
 tion, and groaned at the treasures lavished for a song. 
 
 At length a danger burst on the head of Aben Habuz, 
 against which his talisman yielded him no warning. An in 
 surrection broke out in his very capital ; his palace was sur 
 rounded by an armed rabble, who menaced his life and the life 
 of his Christian paramour. A spark of his ancient warlike 
 spirit was awakened in tHe breast of the monarch. At the head 
 of a handful of his guards he sallied forth, put the rebels to 
 flight, and crushed the insurrection in the bud. 
 
 When quiet was again restored, he sought the astrologer, 
 who still remained shut up in his hermitage, chewing the bitter 
 cud of resentment. 
 
 Aben Habuz approached him with a conciliatory tone. "0 
 wise son of Abu Ayub, " said he, " well didst thou predict dan 
 gers to me from this captive beauty : tell me then, thou who art 
 so quick at foreseeing peril, what I should do to avert it." 
 
 " Put from thee the infidel damsel who is the cause." 
 
 " Sooner would I part with my kingdom, " cried Aben 
 Habuz. 
 
 " Thou art in danger of losing both," replied the astrologer. 
 
 " Be not harsh and angry, most profound of philosophers ; 
 consider the double distress of a monarch and a lover, and de 
 vise some means of protecting me from the evils by which I am 
 menaced. I care not for grandeur, I care not for power, I lan 
 guish only for repose ; would that I had some quiet retreat 
 where I might take refuge from the world, and all its cares, 
 and pomps, and troubles, and devote the remainder of my days 
 to tranquillity and love. 
 
THE GAEDEN OF IREM 145 
 
 The astrologer regarded him for a moment from under his 
 bushy eyebrows. 
 
 " And what would st thou give, if I could provide thee such 
 a retreat 1 " 
 
 "Thou shouldst name thy own reward; and whatever it 
 might be, if within the scope of my power, as my soul liveth, 
 it should be thine." 
 
 " Thou hast heard, king, of the garden of Irem, one of the 
 prodigies of Arabia the happy." 
 
 " I have heard of that garden ; it is recorded in the Koran, 
 even in the chapter entitled The Dawn of Day. I have, 
 moreover, heard marvellous things related of it by pilgrims 
 who had been to Mecca ; but I considered them wild fables, 
 such as travellers are wont to tell who have visited remote 
 countries." 
 
 " Discredit not, king, the tales of travellers," rejoined the 
 astrologer, gravely, "for they contain precious rarities of knowl 
 edge brought from the ends of the earth. As to the palace and 
 garden of Irem, what is generally told of them is true ; I have 
 seen them with mine own eyes; listen to my adventure, for 
 it has a bearing upon the object of your request. 
 
 " In my younger days, when a mere Arab of the desert, I 
 tended my father s camels: In traversing the desert of Aden, 
 one of them strayed from the rest, and was lost. I searched 
 after it for several days, but in vain, until, wearied and 
 faint, I laid myself down at noontide, and slept under a 
 palm-tree by the side of a scanty well. When I awoke I found 
 myself at the gate of a city. I entered, and beheld noble 
 streets, and squares, and market-places ; but all were silent 
 and without an inhabitant. I wandered on until I came to a 
 sumptuous palace, with a garden adorned with fountains and 
 fish-ponds, and groves and flowers, and orchards laden with 
 delicious fruit ; but still no one was to be seen. Upon which, 
 appalled at this loneliness, I hastened to depart ; and, after 
 
146 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 issuing forth at the gate of the city, I turned to look upon the 
 place, but it was no longer to be seen : nothing but the silent 
 desert extended before my eyes. 
 
 " In the neighborhood I met with an aged deryige, learned 
 in the traditions and secrets of the land, and related to him 
 what had befallen me. This, said he, is the far-famed garden 
 of Irem, one of the wonders of the desert. It only appears at 
 times to some wanderer like thyself, gladdening him with the 
 sight of towers and palaces and garden-walls overhung with 
 richly laden fruit trees, and then vanishes, leaving nothing but 
 a lonely desert. And this is the story of it. In old times, when 
 this country was inhabited by the Addites, King Sheddad, the 
 son of Ad, the great grandson of Noah, founded here a splendid 
 city. When it was finished, and he saw its grandeur, his heart 
 was puffed up with pride and arrogance, and he determined to 
 build a royal palace, with gardens which should rival all related 
 in the Koran of the celestial paradise. But the curse of heaven 
 fell upon him for his presumption. He and his subjects were 
 swept from the earth, and his splendid city, and palace, and 
 gardens, were laid under a perpetual spell, which hides them 
 from human sight, excepting that they are seen at intervals, by 
 way of keeping his sin in perpetual remembrance. 
 
 " This story, king, and the wonders I had seen, ever dwelt 
 in my mind ; and in after years, when I had been in Egypt, and 
 was possessed of the book of knowledge of Solomon the Wise, 
 I determined to return and revisit the garden of Irem. I did 
 so, and found it revealed to my instructed sight. I took pos 
 session of the palace of Sheddad, and passed several days in his 
 mock paradise. The genii who watch over the place were obe 
 dient to my magic power, and revealed to me the spells by 
 which the whole garden had been, as it were, conjured into ex 
 istence, and by which it was rendered invisible. Such a palace 
 and garden, king, can I make for thee, even here, on the 
 mountain above thy city. Do I not know all the secret spells ? 
 
THE COMPACT 147 
 
 and am I not in possession of the book of knowledge of Solomon 
 the Wise ? " 
 
 "0 wise son of Abu Ayub!" exclaimed Aben Habuz, 
 trembling with eagerness, "thou art a traveller indeed, and 
 hast seen and learned marvellous things ! Contrive me such 
 a paradise, and ask any reward, even to the half of my 
 kingdom." 
 
 "Alas!" replied the other, "thou knowest I am an old man, 
 and a philosopher, and easily satisfied ; all the reward I ask is 
 the first beast of burden, with its load, which shall enter the 
 rnagic portal of the palace." 
 
 The monarch gladly agreed to so moderate a stipulation, and 
 the astrologer began his work. On the summit of the hill, im 
 mediately above his subterranean hermitage, he caused a great 
 gateway or barbican to be erected, opening through the centre 
 of a strong tower. 
 
 There was ah outer vestibule or porch, with a lofty arch, and 
 within it a portal secured by massive gates. On the keystone 
 of the portal the astrologer, with his own hand, wrought the 
 figure of a huge key ; and on the keystone of the outer arch of 
 the vestibule, which was loftier than that of the portal, he 
 carved a gigantic hand. These were potent talismans, over 
 which he repeated many sentences in an unknown tongue. 
 
 When this gateway was finished, he shut himself up for two 
 days in his astrological hall, engaged in secret incantations ; on 
 the third he ascended the hill, and passed the whole day on its 
 summit. At a late hour of the night he came down, and pre 
 sented himself before Aben Habuz. " At length, king," said 
 he, "my^labor is accomplished. On the summit of the hill 
 stands one of the most delectable palaces that ever the head of 
 man devised, or the heart of man desired. It contains sumptu 
 ous halls and galleries, delicious gardens, cool fountains, and 
 fragrant baths ; in a word, the whole mountain is converted 
 into a paradise. Like the garden of Irem, it is protected by a > 
 
148 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 mighty charm, which hides it from the view and search of mor 
 tals, excepting such as possess the secret of its talismans." 
 
 " Enough !" cried Aben Habuz, joyfully, "to-morrow morn 
 ing with the first light we will ascend and take possession." 
 The happy monarch slept but little that night. Scarcely had 
 the rays of the sun began- to play about the snowy summits of 
 the Sierra Nevada, when he mounted his steed, and, accom 
 panied only by a few chosen attendants, ascended a steep and 
 narrow road leading up the hill. Beside him, on a white 
 palfrey, rode the Gothic princess, her whole dress sparkling 
 with jewels, while round her neck was suspended her silver 
 lyre. The astrologer walked on the other side of the king, 
 assisting his steps with his hieroglyphic staff, for he never 
 mounted steed of any kind. 
 
 Aben Habuz looked to see the towers of the palace bright 
 ening above him, and the embowered terraces of its gardens 
 stretching along the heights ; but as yet nothing of the kind 
 was to be descried. " That is the mystery and safeguard of 
 the place," said the astrologer, " nothing can be discerned until 
 you have passed the spell-bound gateway, and been put in pos 
 session of the place." 
 
 As they approached the gateway, the astrologer paused, and 
 pointed out to the king the mystic hand and key carved upon 
 the portal of the arch. " These," said he, "are the talismans 
 which guard the entrance to this paradise. Until yonder hand 
 shall reach down and seize that key, neither mortal power nor 
 magic artifice can prevail against the lord of this mountain." 
 
 While Aben Habuz was gazing, with open mouth and silent 
 wonder, at these mystic talismans, the palfrey of the princess 
 proceeded, and bore her in at the portal, to the very centre of 
 the barbican. 
 
 " Behold," cried the astrologer, "my promised reward; the 
 first animal with its burden which should enter the magic 
 gateway." 
 
THE SUBTERRANEAN HALL 149 
 
 Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleasantry of 
 the ancient man ; but when he found him to be in earnest, his 
 gray beard trembled with indignation. 
 
 " Son of Abu Ayub," said he, sternly, " what equivocation 
 is this ? Thou knowest the meaning of my promise : the first 
 beast of burden, with its load, that should enter this portal. 
 Take the strongest mule in my stables, load it with the 
 most precious things of my treasury, and it is thine ; but 
 dare not raise thy thoughts to her who is the delight of 
 my heart." 
 
 "What need I of wealth 1" cried the astrologer, scornfully; 
 " have I not the book of knowledge of Solomon the Wise, and 
 through it the command of the secret treasures of the earth? 
 The princess is mine by right ; thy royal word is pledged ; I 
 claim her as my own." 
 
 The princess looked down haughtily from her palfrey, and a 
 light smile of scorn curled her rosy lip at this dispute between 
 two gray-beards for the possession of youth and beauty. The 
 wrath of the monarch got the better of his discretion. "Base 
 son of the desert," cried he, "thou mayst be master of many 
 arts, but know me for thy master, and presume not to juggle 
 with thy king." 
 
 " My master ! my king ! " echoed the astrologer, " the 
 monarch of a mole-hill to claim sway over him who possesses 
 the talismans of Solomon ! Farewell, Aben Habuz; reign 
 over thy petty kingdom, and revel in thy paradise of fools ; for 
 me, I will laugh at thee in my philosophic retirement." 
 
 So saying, he seized the bridle of the palfrey, smote the 
 earth with his staff, and sank with the Gothic princess through 
 the centre of the barbican. The earth closed over them, and 
 no trace remained of the opening by which they had descended. 
 
 Aben Habuz was struck dumb for a time with astonishment. 
 Recovering himself, he ordered a thousand workmen to dig, 
 with pickaxe and spade, into the ground where the astrologer 
 
150 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 had disappeared. They digged and digged, but in vain ; the 
 flinty bosom of the hill resisted their implements ; or if they 
 did penetrate a little way, the earth rilled in again as fast as 
 they threw it out. Aben Habuz sought the mouth of the 
 cavern at the foot of the hill, leading to the subterranean pal 
 ace of the astrologer ; but it was nowhere to be found. Where 
 once had been an entrance, was now a solid surface of primeval 
 rock. With the disappearance of Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub 
 ceased the benefit of his talismans. The bronze horseman re 
 mained fixed, with his face turned towards the hill, and his 
 spear pointed to the spot where the astrologer had descended, 
 as if there still lurked the deadliest foe of Aben Habuz. 
 
 From time to time the sound of music, and the tones of a 
 female voice, could be faintly heard from the bosom of the hill ; 
 and a peasant one day brought word to the king, that in the 
 preceding night he had found a fissure in the rock, by which he 
 had crept in, until he looked down into a subterranean hall, in 
 which sat the astrologer, on a magnificent divan, slumbering 
 and nodding to the silver lyre of the princess, which seemed to 
 hold a magic sway over his senses. 
 
 Aben Habuz sought the fissure in the rock, but it was again 
 closed. He renewed the attempt to unearth his rival, but all 
 in vain. The spell of the hand and key was too potent to be 
 counteracted by human power. As to the summit of the 
 mountain, the site of the promised palace and garden, it re 
 mained a naked waste ; either the boasted elysium was hidden 
 from sight by enchantment, or was a mere fable of the astrolo 
 ger. The world charitably supposed the latter, and some used 
 to call the place " The King s Folly " ; while others named it 
 " The Fool s Paradise." 
 
 To add to the chagrin of Aben Habuz, the neighbors whom 
 he had defied and taunted, and cut up at his leisure while 
 master of the talismanic horseman, finding him no longer pro 
 tected by magic spell, made inroads into his territories from all 
 
MAGIC SLUMBERS 151 
 
 sides, and the remainder of the life of the most pacific of 
 monarchs was a tissue of turmoils. 
 
 At length Aben Habuz died, and was buried. Ages have since 
 rolled away. The Alhambra has been built on the eventful moun 
 tain, and in some measure realizes the fabled delights of the garden 
 of Irem. The spell-bound gateway still exists entire, protected 
 no doubt by the mystic hand and key, and now forms the Gate 
 of Justice, the grand entrance to the fortress. Under that gate 
 way, it is said, the old astrologer remains in his subterranean hall, 
 nodding on his divan, lulled by the silver lyre of the princess. 
 
 The old invalid sentinels who mount guard at the gate hear 
 the strains occasionally in the summer nights ; and, yielding to 
 their soporific power, doze quietly at their posts. Nay, so drowsy 
 an influence pervades the place, that even those who watch by 
 day may generally be seen nodding on the stone benches of the 
 barbican, or sleeping under the neighboring trees ; so that in fact 
 it is the drowsiest military post in all Christendom. All this, 
 say the ancient legends, will endure from age to age. The prin 
 cess will remain captive to the astrologer ; and the astrologer, 
 bound up in magic slumber by the princess, until the last day, 
 unless the mystic hand shall grasp the fated key, and dispel the 
 whole charm of this enchanted mountain. 
 
 NOTE TO THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER 
 
 Al Makkari, in his history of the Mohammedan Dynasties in 
 Spain, cites from another Arabian writer an account of a talis- 
 manic effigy somewhat similar to the one in the foregoing legend. 
 
 In Cadiz, says he, there formerly stood a square tower upwards 
 of one hundred cubits high, built of huge blocks of stone, fastened 
 together with clamps of brass. On the top was the figure of a man, 
 holding a staff in his right hand, his face turned to the Atlantic, 
 and pointing with the forefinger of his left hand to the Straits of 
 Gibraltar. It was said to have been set up in ancient times by the 
 Gothic kings of Andalus, as a beacon or guide to navigators. The 
 Moslems of Barbary and Andalus considered it a talisman which 
 
152 THE ALHAMRRA 
 
 exercised a spell over the seas. Under its guidance, swarms of 
 piratical people of a nation called Majus, appeared on the coast in 
 large vessels with a square sail in the bow, and another in the stern. 
 They came every six or seven years ; captured everything they met 
 with on the sea ; guided by the statue, they passed through the 
 Straits into the Mediterranean, landed on the coasts of Andalus, 
 laid everything waste with fire and sword ; and sometimes carried 
 their depredations on the opposite coasts even as far as Syria. 
 
 At length it came to pass in the time of the civil wars, a Moslem 
 Admiral who had taken possession of Cadiz, hearing that the statue 
 on top of the tower was of pure gold, had it lowered to the ground 
 and broken to pieces : when it proved to be of gilded brass. With 
 the destruction of the idol, the spell over the sea was at an end. 
 From that time forward nothing more was seen of the piratical 
 people of the ocean, excepting that two of their barks were wrecked 
 on the coast, one at Marsu-1-Majus (the port of Majus), the other 
 close to the promontory of Al-Aghan. 
 
 The maritime invaders above mentioned by Al Makkari must have 
 been the Northmen. 
 
 VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 FOR nearly three months had I enjoyed undisturbed my dreams 
 of sovereignty h% the Alhambra, a longer term of quiet than 
 had been the lot of many of my predecessors. During this lapse 
 of time the progress of the season had wrought the usual change. 
 On my arrival I had found everything in the freshness of May ; 
 the foliage of the trees was still tender and transparent ; the pome 
 granate had not yet shed its brilliant crimson blossoms ; the or 
 chards of the Xenil and the Darro were in full bloom ; the rocks 
 were hung with wild flowers, and Granada seemed completely 
 surrounded by a wilderness of roses ; among which innumerable 
 nightingales sang, not merely in the night, but all day long. 
 
 Now the advance of summer had withered the rose and si 
 lenced the nightingale, and the distant country began to look 
 parched and sunburnt ; though a perennial verdure reigned im- 
 
VISITORS TO THE ALHA^IBRA 153 
 
 mediately round the city and in the deep narrow valleys at the 
 foot of the snow-capped mountains. 
 
 The Alhambra possesses retreats graduated to the heat of the 
 weather, among which the most peculiar is the almost subterra 
 nean apartment of the baths. This still retains its ancient Ori 
 ental character, though stamped with the touching traces of 
 decline. At the entrance, opening into a small court formerly 
 adorned with flowers, is a hall, moderate in size, but light arid 
 -graceful in architecture. It is overlooked by a small gallery sup 
 ported by marble pillars and moresco arches. An alabaster foun 
 tain in the centre of the pavement still throws up a jet of water 
 to cool the place. On each side are deep alcoves with raised plat 
 forms, where the bathers, after their ablutions, reclined on cush 
 ions, soothed to voluptuous repose by the fragrance of the perfumed 
 air and the notes of soft music from the gallery. Beyond this 
 hall are the interior chambers, still more retired ; the sanctum 
 sanctorum of female privacy ; for here the beauties of the Harem 
 indulged in the luxury of the baths. A soft mysterious light 
 reigns through the place, admitted through small apertures 
 (lumbreras) in the vaulted ceiling. The traces of ancient ele 
 gance are still to be seen ; and the alabaster baths in which the 
 sultanas once reclined. The prevailing obscurity and silence have 
 made these vaults a favorite resort of bats, who nestle during the 
 day in the dark nooks and corners, and on being disturbed, flit 
 mysteriously about the twilight chambers, heightening, in an 
 indescribable degree, their air of desertion and decay. 
 
 In this cool and elegant, though dilapidated retreat, which had 
 the freshness and seclusion of a grotto, I passed the sultry hours 
 of the day as summer advanced, emerging toward sunset ; and 
 bathing, or rather swimming, at night in the great reservoir of 
 the main court. In this way I was enabled in a measure to 
 counteract the relaxing and enervating influence of the climate. 
 
 My dream of absolute sovereignty, however, came at length 
 to an end. I was roused one morning by the report of fire- 
 
154 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 arms, which reverberated among the towers as if the castle had 
 been taken by surprise. On sallying forth, I found an old cava 
 lier with a number of domestics in possession of the Hall of 
 Ambassadors. He was an ancient count who had come up 
 from his palace in Granada to pass a short time in the Alham- 
 bra for the benefit of purer air ; and who, being a veteran and 
 inveterate sportsman, was endeavoring to get an appetite for 
 his breakfast by shooting at swallows from the balconies. It 
 was a harmless amusement ; for though, by the alertness of his 
 attendants in loading his pieces, he was enabled to keep up a 
 brisk fire, I could not accuse him of the death of a single swal 
 low. Nay, the birds themselves seemed to enjoy the sport, and 
 to deride his want of skill, skimming in circles close to the bal 
 conies, and twittering as they darted by. 
 
 The arrival of this old gentleman changed essentially the 
 aspect of affairs, but caused no jealousy nor collision. We 
 tacitly shared the empire between us, like the last kings of 
 Granada, excepting that we maintained a most amicable alliance. 
 He reigned absolute over the court of the Lions and its adjacent 
 halls, while I maintained peaceful possession of the regions of the 
 baths and the little garden of Lindaraxa. We took our meals to 
 gether under the arcades of the court, where the fountains cooled 
 the air, and bubbling rills ran along the channels of the marble 
 pavement. 
 
 In the evenings a domestic circle would gather about the 
 worthy old cavalier. The countess, his wife by a second mar 
 riage, would come up from the city accompanied by her step 
 daughter Carmen, an only child, a charming little being, still 
 in her girlish years. Then there were always some of his 
 official dependants, his chaplain, his lawyer, his secretary, his 
 steward, and other officers and agents of his extensive posses 
 sions, who brought him up the news or gossip of the city, and 
 formed his evening party of tresillo or ombre. Thus he held a 
 kind of domestic court, where each one paid him deference, and 
 
LA NINA 155 
 
 sought to contribute to his amusement, without, howa^er, any 
 appearance of servility, or any sacrifice of self-respect. In fact, 
 nothing of the kind was exacted by the demeanor of the Count ; 
 for whatever may be said of Spanish pride, it rarely chills or 
 constrains the intercourse of social or domestic life. Among no 
 people are the relations between kindred more unreserved and 
 cordial, or between superior and dependant more free from 
 haughtiness on the one side, and obsequiousness on the other. 
 In these respects there still remains in Spanish life, especially 
 in the provinces, much of the vaunted simplicity of the olden 
 time. 
 
 The most interesting member of this family group, in my 
 eyes, was the daughter of the count, the lovely little Carmen. 
 
 She was but about sixteen years of age, and appeared to be con 
 sidered a mere child, though the idol of the family, going gener 
 ally by the childlike but endearing appellation of la Nina. Her 
 form had not yet attained full maturity and development, but 
 possessed already the exquisite symmetry and pliant grace so 
 prevalent in this country. Her blue eyes, fair complexion, and 
 light hair, were unusual in Andalusia, and gave a mildness and 
 gentleness to her demeanor in contrast to the usual fire of Span 
 ish beauty, but in unison with the guileless and confiding inno 
 cence of her manners. She had at the same time the innate 
 aptness and versatility of her fascinating countrywomen. What 
 ever she undertook to do she did well and apparently without 
 effort. She sang, played the guitar and other instruments, and 
 danced the picturesque dances of her country to admiration, but 
 never seemed to seek admiration. Everything was spontaneous, 
 prompted by her own gay spirits and happy temper. 
 
 The presence of this fascinating little being spread a new 
 charm about the Alhambra, and seemed to be in unison with 
 the place. While the count and countess, with the chaplain or 
 secretary, were playing their game of tresillo under the vestibule 
 of the court of Lions, she, attended by Dolores, who acted as 
 
156 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 her majjl of honor, would sit by one of the fountains, and accom 
 panying herself on the guitar, would sing some of those popular 
 romances which abound in Spain, or, what was still more to my 
 taste, some traditional ballad about the Moors. 
 
 Never shall I think of the Alhambra without remembering 
 this lovely little being, sporting in happy and innocent girlhood 
 in its marble halls, dancing to the sound of the Moorish casta 
 nets, or mingling the silver warbling of her voice with the 
 music of its fountains. 
 
 RELICS AND GENEALOGIES 
 
 IF I had been pleased and interested by the count and his 
 family, as furnishing a picture of Spanish domestic life, I was 
 still more so when apprised of historical circumstances which 
 linked them with the heroic times of Granada. In fact, in this 
 worthy old cavalier, so totally unwarlike, or whose deeds in 
 arms extended, at most, to a war on swallows and martlets, I 
 discovered a lineal descendant and actual representative of Gon- 
 salvo of Cordova, " The Grand Captain, " who won some of his 
 brightest laurels before the walls of Granada, and was one of the 
 cavaliers commissioned by Ferdinand and Isabella to negotiate 
 the terms of surrender ; nay, more, the count was entitled, did 
 he choose it, to claim remote affinity with some of the ancient 
 Moorish princes, through a scion of his house, Don Pedro Vene- 
 gas, surnamed the Tornadizo; and by the same token his 
 daughter, the fascinating little Carmen, might claim to be right 
 ful representative of the Princess Cetimerien or the beautiful 
 Lindaraxa. 1 
 
 Understanding from the count that he had some curious relics 
 of the Conquest, preserved in his family archives, I accompanied 
 him early one morning down to his palace in Granada to ex 
 amine them. The most important of these relics was the sword 
 
COSTUMES OF THE MOORS OF ANDALUS 157 
 
 of the Grand Captain ; a weapon destitute of all ostentatious 
 ornament, as the weapons of great generals are apt to be, with 
 a plain hilt of ivory and a broad thin blade. It might furnish 
 a comment on hereditary honors, to see the sword of the grand 
 captain legitimately declined into such feeble hands. 
 
 The other relics of the Conquest were a number of espin- 
 gardas or muskets of unwieldy size and ponderous weight, 
 worthy to rank with those enormous two-edged swords pre 
 served in old armories, which look like relics from the days of 
 the giants. 
 
 Besides other hereditary honors, I found the old count was 
 Alferez mayor, or grand standard-bearer, in which capacity he 
 was entitled to bear the ancient standard of Ferdinand and Isa 
 bella, on certain high and solemn occasions, and to wave it over 
 their tombs. I was shown also the caparisons of velvet, sumpt 
 uously embroidered with gold and silver, for six horses, with 
 which he appeared in state when a new sovereign was to be 
 proclaimed in Granada and Seville ; the count mounting one of 
 the horses, and the other five being led by lackeys in rich liveries. 
 
 I had hoped to find among the relics and antiquities of the 
 count s palace some specimens of the armor and weapons of 
 the Moors of Granada, such as I had heard were preserved as 
 trophies by the descendants of the Conquerors ; but in this I 
 was disappointed. I was the more curious in this particular, 
 because an erroneous idea has been entertained by many, as to 
 the costumes of the Moors of Spain ; supposing them to be of 
 the usual Oriental type. On the contrary, we have it on the 
 authority of their own writers, that they adopted in many 
 respects the fashions of the Christians. The turban, especially, 
 so identified in idea with the Moslem, was generally abandoned, 
 except in the western provinces, where it continued in use 
 among people of rank and wealth, and those holding places 
 under government. A woollen cap, red or green, was commonly 
 worn as a substitute ; probably the same kind originating in 
 
158 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Barbary, and known by the name of Tunis or Fez, which at 
 the present day is worn throughout the East, though generally 
 under the turban. The Jews were obliged to wear them of a 
 yellow color. 
 
 In Murcia, Valencia, and other eastern provinces, men of 
 the highest rank might be seen in public bareheaded. The 
 warrior king, Aben Hud, never wore a turban, neither did his 
 rival and competitor Al Hamar, the founder of the Alhambra. 
 A short cloak called Taylasan, similar to that seen in Spain in 
 the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, was worn by all ranks. 
 It had a hood or cape which people of conditions sometimes 
 drew over the head ; but the lower class never. 
 
 A Moslem cavalier in the thirteenth century, as described by 
 Ibnu Said, was equipped for war very much in the Christian 
 style. Over a complete suit of mail he wore a short scarlet 
 tunic. His helmet was of polished steel ; a shield was slung 
 at his back ; he wielded a huge spear with a broad point, 
 sometimes a double point. His saddle was cumbrous, project 
 ing very much in front and in rear, and he rode with a banner 
 fluttering behind him. 
 
 In the time of Al Khattib of Granada, who wrote in the 
 fourteenth century, the Moslems of Andalus had resumed the 
 Oriental costumes, and were again clad and armed in Arabic 
 fashion : with light helmet, thin but well-tempered cuirass, 
 long slender lance, commonly of reed, Arabian saddle and 
 leather buckler, made of double folds of the skin of the ante 
 lope. A wonderful luxury prevailed at that time in the arms 
 and equipments of the Granadian cavaliers. Their armor was 
 inlaid with gold and silver. Their cimeters were of the keenest 
 Damascus blades, with sheaths richly wrought and enamelled, 
 and belts of golden filigree studded with gems. Their daggers 
 of Fez had jewelled hilts, and their lances were set off with 
 gay banderoles. Their horses were caparisoned in correspond 
 ent style, with velvet and embroidery. 
 
THE GENERALIFE 159 
 
 - All this minute description, given by a contemporary, and 
 an author of distinction, verifies those gallant pictures in the 
 old Morisco Spanish ballads which have sometimes been deemed 
 apocryphal, and give a vivid idea of the brilliant appearance 
 of the chivalry of Granada, when marshalled forth in warlike 
 array, or when celebrating the chivalrous fetes of the Vivar- 
 rambla. 
 
 1 Lest this should be deemed a mere stretch of fancy, the 
 reader is referred to the following genealogy, derived by the his 
 torian Alcantara, from an Arabian manuscript, on parchment in 
 the archives of the Marquis of Corvera. It is a specimen of the 
 curious affinities between Christians and Moslems, produced by 
 capture and intermarriages, during the Moorish wars. From Aben 
 Hud, the Moorish king, the conqueror of the Almohades, was 
 descended in right line Cid Yahia Abraham Alnagar, prince of 
 Almeria, who married a daughter of King Bermejo. They had 
 three children, commonly called the Cetiinerian Princes : 1st. Jusef 
 ben Alhamar, who for a time usurped the throne of Granada ; 
 2d. the Prince Nasar, who married the celebrated Lindaraxa ; 
 3d. the Princess Cetimerien, who married Don Pedro Venegas. 
 captured by the Moors in his boyhood, a younger son of the 
 House of Luque, of which house the old count was the present 
 head. 
 
 THE GENERALIFE 
 
 HIGH above the Alhambra, on the breast of the mountain, 
 amidst embowered gardens and stately terraces, rise the lofty 
 towers and white walls of the Generalife ; a fairy palace, full 
 of storied recollections. Here are still to be seen the famous 
 cypresses of enormous size which flourished in the time of the 
 Moors, and which tradition has connected with the fabulous 
 story of Boabdil and his sultana. 
 
 Here are preserved the portraits of many who figured in 
 the romantic drama of the Conquest. Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 Ponce de Leon, the gallant Marquis of Cadiz, and Garcilaso de 
 
160 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 la Vega, who slew in desperate fight Tarfe the Moor, a cham 
 pion of Herculean strength. Here too hangs a portrait which 
 has long passed for that of the unfortunate Boabdil, but which 
 is said to be that of Aben Hud, the Moorish king from whom 
 descended the princes of Almeria. From one of these princes, 
 who joined the standard of Ferdinand and Isabella toward the 
 close of the Conquest, and was christianized by the name of 
 Don Pedro de Granada Venegas, was descended the present 
 proprietor of the palace, the Marquis of Campotejar. The 
 proprietor, however, dwells in a foreign land, and the palace 
 has no longer a princely inhabitant. 
 
 Yet here is everything to delight a southern voluptuary : 
 fruits, flowers, fragrance, green arbors and myrtle hedges, deli 
 cate air and gushing waters. Here I had an opportunity of wit 
 nessing those scenes which painters are fond of depicting about 
 southern palaces arid gardens. It was the saint s day of the 
 count s daughter, and she had brought up several of her youth 
 ful companions from Granada, to sport away a long summer s 
 day among the breezy halls and bowers of the Moorish palaces. 
 A visit to the Generalife was the morning s entertainment. Here 
 some of the gay company dispersed itself in groups about the 
 green walks, the bright fountains, the flights of Italian steps, 
 the noble terraces and marble balustrades. Others, among whom 
 I was one, took their seats in an open gallery or colonnade com 
 manding a vast prospect ; with the Alhambra, the city, and the 
 Vega, far below, and the distant horizon of mountains a 
 dreamy world, all glimmering to the eye in summer sunshine. 
 While thus seated, the all-pervading tinkling of the guitar and 
 click of the castanets came stealing up from the valley of the 
 Darro, and half-way down the mountain we descried a festive 
 party under the trees, enjoying themselves in true Andalusian 
 style ; some lying on the grass, others dancing to the music. 
 
 All these sights and sounds, together with the princely se 
 clusion of the place, the sweet quiet which prevailed around, 
 
LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL 161 
 
 and the delicious serenity of the weather, had a witching effect 
 upon the mind, and drew from some of the company, versed in 
 local story, several of the popular fancies and traditions con 
 nected with this old Moorish palace ; they were " such stuff as 
 dreams are made of," but out of them I have shaped the follow 
 ing legend, which I hope may have the good fortune to prove 
 acceptable to the reader. 
 
 LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL 
 
 OB 
 
 THE PILGRIM OF LOVE 
 
 THERE was once a Moorish king of Granada, who had but 
 one son, whom he named Ahmed, to which his courtiers added 
 the surname of al Kamel, or the Perfect, from the indubitable 
 signs of superexcellence which they perceived in him in his very 
 infancy. The astrologers countenanced them in their foresight, 
 predicting everything in his favor that could make a perfect 
 prince and a prosperous sovereign. One cloud only rested upon 
 his destiny, and even that was of a roseate hue : he would be 
 of an amorous temperament, and run great perils from the ten 
 der passion. If, however, he could be kept from the allure 
 ments of love until of mature age, these dangers would be 
 averted, and his life thereafter be one uninterrupted course of 
 felicity. 
 
 To prevent all danger of the kind, the king wisely determined 
 to rear the prince in a seclusion where he should never see a 
 female face, nor hear even the name of love. For this purpose 
 he built a beautiful palace on the brow of the hill above the 
 Alhambra, in the midst of delightful gardens, but surrounded 
 by lofty walls, being, in fact, the same palace known at the 
 present day by the name of the Generalife. In this palace the 
 
162 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 youthful prince was shut up, and intrusted to the guardianship 
 and instruction of Eben Bonabben, one of the wisest and dryest 
 of Arabian sages, who had passed the greatest part of his life 
 in Egypt, studying hieroglyphics, and making researches among 
 the tombs and pyramids, and who saw more charms in an Egyp 
 tian mummy than in the most tempting of living beauties. The 
 sage was ordered to instruct the prince in all kinds of knowledge 
 but one, he was to be kept utterly ignorant of love. "Use 
 every precaution for the purpose you may think proper," said 
 the king, " but remember, Eben Bonabben, if my son learns 
 aught of that forbidden knowledge while under your care, your 
 head shall answer for it." A withered smile came over the dry 
 visage of the wise Bonabben at the menace. "Let your maj 
 esty s heart be as easy about your son as mine is about my 
 head : am I a man likely to give lessons in the idle passion 1 " 
 
 Under the vigilant care of the philosopher, the prince grew 
 up in the seclusion of the palace and its gardens. He had black 
 slaves to attend upon him hideous mutes who knew nothing 
 of love, or if they did, had not words to communicate it. His 
 mental endowments were the peculiar care of Eben Bonabben, 
 who sought to initiate him into the abstruse lore of Egypt ; but 
 in this the prince made little progress, and it was soon evident 
 that he had no turn for philosophy. 
 
 He was, however, amazingly ductile for a youthful prince, 
 ready to follow any advice, and always guided by the last coun 
 sellor. He suppressed his yawns, and listened patiently to the 
 long and learned discourses of Eben Bonabben, from which he 
 imbibed a smattering of various kinds of knowledge, and thus 
 happily attained his twentieth year, a miracle of princely wisdom 
 but totally ignorant of love. 
 
 About this time, however, a change came over the conduct of 
 the prince. He completely abandoned his studies/ and took to 
 strolling about the gardens, and musing by the side of the foun 
 tains. He had been taught a little music among his various accom- 
 
THE DISCOVERY OF A HEART 163 
 
 plishments ; it now engrossed a great part of his time and a turn 
 for poetry became apparent. The sage Eben Bonabben took the 
 alarm, and endeavored to work these idle humors out of him by 
 a severe course of algebra ; but the prince turned from it with dis 
 taste. " I cannot endure algebra," said he ; " it is an abomina 
 tion to me. I want something that speaks more to the heart." 
 
 The sage Eben Bonabben shook his dry head at the words. 
 " Here is an end to philosophy," thought he. " The prince has 
 discovered he has a heart ! " He now kept anxious watch upon 
 his pupil, and saw that the latent tenderness of his nature was 
 in activity, and only wanted an object. He wandered about the 
 gardens of the Generalife in an intoxication of feelings of which 
 he knew not the cause. Sometimes he would sit plunged in a 
 delicious revery ; then he would seize his lute and draw from it 
 the most touching notes, and then throw it aside, and break forth 
 into sighs and ejaculations. 
 
 By degrees this loving disposition began to extend to inani 
 mate objects; he had his favorite flowers, which he cherished 
 with tender assiduity ; then he became attached to various trees, 
 and there was one in particular, of a graceful form and drooping 
 foliage, on which he lavished his amorous devotion, carving his 
 name on its bark, hanging garlands on its branches, and singing 
 couplets in its praise, to the accompaniment of his lute. 
 
 Eben Bonabben was alarmed at this excited state of his pupil. 
 He saw him on the very brink of forbidden knowledge - the 
 least hint might reveal to him the fatal secret. Trembling for 
 the safety of the prince and the security of his own head, he 
 hastened to draw him from the seductions of the garden, and shut 
 him up in the highest tower of the Generalife. It contained 
 beautiful apartments, and commanded an almost boundless pros 
 pect, but was elevated far above that atmosphere of sweets and 
 those witching bowers so dangerous to the feelings of the too 
 susceptible Ahmed. 
 
 What was to be done, however, to reconcile him to this re- 
 
164 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 straint and to beguile the tedious hours ? He had exhausted 
 almost all kinds of agreeable knowledge ; and algebra was not 
 to be mentioned. Fortunately Eben Bonabben had been in 
 structed, when in Egypt, in the language of birds by a Jewish 
 Rabbin, who had received it in lineal transmission from Solomon 
 the Wise, who had been taught it by the queen of Sheba. At 
 the very mention of such a study, the eyes of the prince sparkled 
 with animation, and he applied himself to it with such avidity, 
 that he soon became as great an adept as his master. 
 
 The tower of the Generalife was no longer a s olitude ; he had 
 companions at hand with whom he could converse. The first 
 acquaintance he formed was with a hawk, who built his nest 
 in a crevice of the lofty battlements, whence he soared far and 
 wide in quest of prey. The prince, however, found little to like 
 or esteem in him. He was a mere pirate of the air, swaggering 
 and boastful, whose talk was all about rapine and carnage, and 
 desperate exploits. 
 
 His next acquaintance was an owl, a mighty wise-looking 
 bird, with a huge head and staring eyes, who sat blinking and 
 goggling all day in a hole in the wall, but roamed forth at night. 
 He had great pretensions to wisdom, talked something of astrol 
 ogy and the moon, and hinted at the dark sciences ; he was 
 grievously given to metaphysics, and the prince found his pros- 
 ings even more ponderous than those of the sage Eben Bonab 
 ben. 
 
 Then there was a bat, that hung all day by his heels in the 
 dark corner of a vault, but sallied out in slipshod style at twi 
 light. He, however, had but twilight ideas on all subjects, de 
 rided things of which he had taken but an imperfect view, and 
 seemed to take delight in nothing. 
 
 Besides these there was a swallow, with whom the prince 
 was at first much taken. He was a smart talker, but restless, 
 bustling, and forever on the wing; seldom remaining long 
 enough for any continued conversation. He turned out in the 
 
THE BIRDS OF THE TOWER 165 
 
 end to be a mere smatterer, who did but skim over the surface 
 of things, pretending to know everything, but knowing nothing 
 thoroughly. 
 
 These were the only feathered associates with whom the 
 prince had any opportunity of exercising his newly acquired 
 language ; the tower was too high for any other birds to fre 
 quent it. He soon grew weary of his new acquaintances, whose 
 conversation spoke so little to the head and nothing to the heart, 
 and gradually relapsed into his loneliness. A winter passed 
 away, spring opened with all its bloom and verdure and breath 
 ing sweetness, and the happy time arrived for birds to pair and 
 build their nests. Suddenly, as .it were, a universal burst of 
 song and melody broke forth from the groves and gardens of the 
 Generalife, and reached the prince in the solitude of his tower. 
 From every side he heard the same universal theme love 
 love love chanted forth, and responded to in every variety 
 of note and tone. The prince listened in silence and perplexity. 
 " What can be this love," thought he, " of which the world 
 seems so full, and of which I know nothing 1 " He applied for 
 information to his friend the hawk. The ruffian bird answered 
 in a tone of scorn : "You must apply," said he, "to the vulgar 
 peaceable birds of earth, who are made for the prey of us princes 
 of the air. My trade is war, and fighting my delight. I am a 
 warrior, and know nothing of this thing called love." 
 
 The prince turned from him with disgust, and sought the owl 
 in his retreat. " This is a bird," said he, " of peaceful habits, 
 and may be able to solve my question." So he asked the owl 
 to tell him what was this love about which all the birds in 
 the groves below were singing. 
 
 Upon this the owl put on a look of offended dignity. " My 
 nights," said he, "are taken up in study and research, and my 
 days in ruminating in my cell upon all that I have learnt. As 
 to these singing birds of whom you talk, I never listen to them 
 I despise them and their themes. Allah be praised, I can- 
 
166 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 not sing ; I am a philosopher, and know nothing of this thing 
 called love." 
 
 The prince now repaired to the vault, where his friend the 
 bat was hanging by the heels, and propounded the same ques 
 tion. The bat wrinkled up his nose into a most snappish 
 expression. " Why do you disturb me in my morning s nap 
 with such an idle question ? " said he, peevishly. " I only fly 
 by twilight when all birds are asleep, and never trouble myself 
 with their concerns. I am neither bird nor beast, and I thank 
 heaven for it. I have found out the villany of the whole of 
 them, and hate them one and all. In a word, I am a misan 
 thrope and know nothing qf this thing called love." 
 
 As a last resort, the prince now sought the swallow, and 
 stopped him just as he was circling about the summit of the 
 tower. The swallow, as usual, was in a prodigious hurry, and 
 had scarce time to make a reply. "Upon my word," said he, 
 " I have so much public business to attend to, and so many 
 pursuits to follow, that I have had no time to think on the sub 
 ject. I have every day a thousand visits to pay; a thousand 
 affairs of importance to examine into, that leave me not a 
 moment of leisure for these little sing-song matters. In a 
 word, I am a citizen of the world I know nothing of this 
 thing called love." So saying, the swallow dived into the 
 valley, and was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 The prince remained disappointed and perplexed, but with 
 his curiosity still more piqued by the difficulty of gratifying it. 
 While in this mood, his ancient guardian entered the tower. 
 The prince advanced eagerly to meet him. " Eben Bonab- 
 ben," cried he, "thou hast revealed to me much of the wisdom 
 of the earth ; but there is one thing of which I remain in utter 
 ignorance, and would fain be informed." 
 
 " My prince has but to make the inquiry, and everything 
 within the limited range of his servant s intellect is at his com 
 mand." 
 
LOVE DEFINED 167 
 
 " Tell me then, most profound of sages, what is the nature 
 of this thing called love 1 " 
 
 Eben Bonabben was struck as with a thunderbolt. He 
 trembled and turned pale, and felt as if his head sat but loosely 
 on his shoulders. 
 
 " What could suggest such a question to my prince, where 
 could he have learnt so idle a word ? " 
 
 The prince led him to the window of the tower. " Listen, 
 Eben Bonabben," said he. The sage listened. The nightingale 
 sat in a thicket below the tower, singing to his paramour the 
 rose ; from every blossomed spray and tufted grove rose a strain 
 of melody ; and love love love was still the unvarying 
 strain. 
 
 "Allah Akbar ! God is great ! " exclaimed the wise Bonabben. 
 "Who shall pretend to keep this secret from the heart of man, 
 when even the birds of the air conspire to betray it ?" 
 
 Then turning to Ahmed "0 my prince," cried he, "shut 
 thine ears to these seductive strains. Close thy mind against 
 this dangerous knowledge. Know that this love is the cause of 
 half the ills of wretched mortality. It is this which produces 
 bitterness and strife between brethren and friends ; which causes 
 treacherous murder and desolating war. Care and sorrow, 
 weary days and sleepless nights, are its attendants. It withers 
 the bloom and blights the joy of youth, and brings on the ills 
 and grief of premature old age. Allah preserve thee, my prince, 
 in total ignorance of this thing called love ! " 
 
 The sage Eben Bonabben hastily retired, leaving the prince 
 plunged in still deeper perplexity. It was in vain he attempted 
 to dismiss the subject from his mind ; it still continued upper 
 most in his thoughts, and teased and exhausted him with vain 
 conjectures. Surely, said he to himself, as he listened to the 
 tuneful strains of the birds, there is no sorrow in those notes ; 
 everything seems tenderness and joy. If love be a cause 
 of such wretchedness and strife, why are not these birds droop- 
 
168 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 ing in solitude, or tearing each other in pieces, instead of flut 
 tering cheerfully about the groves, or sporting with each other 
 among the flowers 1 " 
 
 He lay one morning on his couch, meditating on this inexpli 
 cable matter. The window of his chamber was open to admit 
 the soft morning breeze, which came laden with the perfume of 
 orange-blossoms from the valley of the Darro. The voice of the 
 nightingale was faintly heard, still chanting the wonted theme. 
 As the prince was listening and sighing, there was a sudden 
 rushing noise in the air ; a beautiful dove, pursued by a hawk, 
 darted in at the window, and fell panting on the floor, while 
 the pursuer, balked of his prey, soared off to the mountains. 
 
 The prince took up the gasping bird, smoothed its feathers, 
 and nestled it in his bosom. When he had soothed it by his 
 caresses, he put it in a golden cage, and offered it, with his own 
 hands, the whitest and finest of wheat and the purest of water. 
 The bird, however, refused food, and sat drooping and pining, 
 and uttering piteous moans. 
 
 " What aileth thee 1 " said Ahmed. " Hast thou not every 
 thing thy heart can wish ? " 
 
 " Alas, no ! " replied the dove ; " am I not separated from 
 the partner of my heart, and that too in the happy spring-time, 
 the very season of love 1 " 
 
 " Of love ! " echoed Ahmed. " I pray thee, my pretty bird, 
 canst thou then tell me what is love ? " 
 
 " Too well can I, my prince. It is the torment of one, the 
 felicity of two, the strife and enmity of three. It is a charm 
 which draws two beings together, and unites them by delicious 
 sympathies, making it happiness to be with each other, but 
 misery to be apart. Is there no being to whom you are drawn 
 by these ties of tender affection 1 " 
 
 " I like my old teacher Eben Bonabben better than any other 
 being ; but he is often tedious, and I occasionally feel myself 
 happier without his society." 
 
FIRST LESSONS OF LOVE 169 
 
 " That is not the sympathy I mean. I speak of love, the 
 great mystery and principle of life ; the intoxicating revel of 
 youth; the sober delight of age. Look forth, my prince, and be 
 hold how at this blest season all nature is full of love. Every 
 created being has its mate : the most insignificant bird sings to 
 its paramour ; the very beetle wooes its lady-beetle in the dust, 
 and yon butterflies, which you see fluttering high above the 
 tower and toying in the air, are happy in each other s loves. 
 Alas, my prince ! hast thou spent so many of the precious days 
 of youth without knowing anything of love ? Is there no gen 
 tle being of another sex no beautiful princess nor lovely dam 
 sel who has ensnared your heart, and filled your bosom with a 
 soft tumult of pleasing pains and tender wishes ? " 
 
 "I begin to understand," said the prince, sighing; "such a 
 tumult I have more than once experienced, without knowing 
 the cause ; and where should I seek for an object such as you 
 describe in this dismal solitude ? " 
 
 A little further conversation ensued, and the first amatory 
 lesson of the prince was complete. 
 
 " Alas ! " said he, " if love be indeed such a delight, and its 
 interruption such a misery, Allah forbid that I should mar the 
 joy of any of its votaries." He opened the cage, took out the 
 dove, and having fondly kissed it, carried it to the window. 
 "Go, happy bird," said he, "rejoice with the partner of thy 
 heart in the days of youth and spring-time. Why should I 
 make thee a fellow-prisoner in this dreary tower, where love can 
 never enter 1 ?" 
 
 The dove flapped its wings in rapture, gave one vault into 
 the air, and then swooped downward on whistling wings to the 
 blooming bowers of the Darro. 
 
 The prince followed him with his eyes, and then gave way to 
 bitter repining. The singing of the birds, which once delighted 
 him, now added to his bitterness. Love ! love ! love ! Alas, 
 poor youth ! he now understood the strain, 
 
170 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 His eyes flashed fire when next he beheld the sage Bonabben. 
 " Why hast thou kept me in this abject ignorance 1 " cried he. 
 " Why has the great mystery and principle of life been withheld 
 from me, in which I find the meanest insect is so learned ? 
 Behold all nature is in a revel of delight. Every created being 
 rejoices with its mate. This this is the love about which I 
 have sought instruction. Why am I alone debarred its enjoy 
 ment ? Why has so much of my youth been wasted without a 
 knowledge of its raptures 1 " 
 
 The sage Bonabben saw that all further reserve was useless ; 
 for the prince had acquired the dangerous and forbidden knowl 
 edge. He revealed to him, therefore, the predictions of the 
 astrologers and the precautions that had been taken in his 
 education to avert the threatened evils. "And now, my 
 prince," added he, " my life is in your hands. Let the king 
 your father discover that you have learned the passion of love 
 while under my guardianship, and my head must answer for it." 
 
 The prince was as reasonable as most young men of his age, 
 and easily listened to the remonstrances of his tutor, since noth 
 ing pleaded against them. Besides, he really was attached to 
 Eben Bonabben, and being as yet but theoretically acquainted 
 with the passion of love, he consented to confine the knowledge 
 of it to his own bosom, rather than endanger the head of the 
 philosopher. 
 
 His discretion was doomed, however, to be put to still further 
 proofs. A few mornings afterwards, as he was ruminating on 
 the battlements of the tower, the dove which had been released 
 by him came hovering in the air, and alighted fearlessly upon 
 his shoulder. 
 
 The prince fondled it to his- heart. " Happy bird," said he, 
 " who can fly, as it were, with the wings of the morning to the 
 uttermost parts of the earth. Where hast thou been since we 
 parted ? " 
 
 "In a far country, my prince, whence I bring you tidings in 
 
A LOVE-MISSIVE 171 
 
 reward for my liberty. In the wild compass of my flight, 
 which extends over plain and mountain, as I was soaring in 
 the air, I beheld below me a delightful garden with all kinds of 
 fruits and flowers. It was in a green meadow, on the banks of 
 a wandering stream ; and in the centre of the garden was a 
 stately palace. I alighted in one of the bowers to repose after 
 my weary flight. On the green bank below me was a youthful 
 princess, in the very sweetness and bloom of her years. She 
 was surrounded by female attendants, young like herself, who 
 decked her with garlands and coronets of flowers ; but no flower 
 of field or garden could compare with her for loveliness. Here, 
 however, she bloomed in secret, for the garden was surrounded 
 by high walls, and no mortal man was permitted to enter. 
 When I beheld this beauteous maid, thus young and innocent 
 and unspotted by the world, I thought, here is the being formed 
 by heaven to inspire my prince with love." 
 
 The description was a spark of fire to the combustible heart 
 of Ahmed ; all the latent amorousness of his temperament had 
 at once found an object, and he conceived an immeasurable pas 
 sion for the princess. He wrote a letter, couched in the most 
 impassioned language, breathing his fervent devotion, but be 
 wailing the unhappy thraldom of his person, which prevented 
 him from seeking her out and throwing himself at her feet. 
 He added couplets of the most tender and moving eloquence, 
 for he was a poet by nature, and inspired by love. He addressed 
 his letter " To the Unknown Beauty, from the, captive Prince 
 Ahmed ; " then perfuming it with musk and roses, he gave it 
 to the dove. 
 
 " Away, trustiest of messengers ! " said he. " Fly over moun 
 tain, and valley, and river, and plain ; rest not in bower, nor 
 set foot on earth, until thou hast given this letter to the mis 
 tress of my heart." 
 
 The dove soared high in the air, and taking his course darted 
 away in one undeviating direction. The prince followed him 
 
172 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 with his eye until he was a mere speck on a cloud, and gradually 
 disappeared behind a mountain. 
 
 Day after day he watched for the return of the messenger of 
 love, but he watched in vain. He began to accuse him of for- 
 getfulness, when towards sunset one evening the faithful bird 
 fluttered into his apartment, and falling at his feet expired. 
 The arrow of some wanton archer had pierced his breast, yet he 
 had struggled with the lingerings of life to execute his mission. 
 As the prince bent with grief over this gentle martyr to fidelity, 
 he beheld a chain of pearls round his neck, attached to which, 
 beneath his wing, was a small enamelled picture. It repre 
 sented a lovely princess in the very flower of her years. It was 
 doubtless the unknown beauty of the garden; but who and 
 where was she? how had she received his letter? and was 
 this picture sent as a token of her approval of his passion ? 
 Unfortunately the death of the faithful dove left everything in 
 mystery and doubt. 
 
 The prince gazed on the picture till his eyes swam with tears. 
 He pressed it to his lips and to his heart ; he sat for hours con 
 templating it almost in an agony of tenderness. " Beautiful 
 image ! " said he, " alas, thou art but an image ! Yet thy dewy 
 eyes beam tenderly upon me ; those rosy lips look as though 
 they would speak encouragement : vain fancies ! Have they 
 not looked the same on some more happy rival ? But where 
 in this wide world shall I hope to find the original 1 Who 
 knows what mountains, what realms may separate us ; what 
 adverse chances may intervene 1 Perhaps now, even now, 
 lovers may be crowding around her, while I sit here a prisoner 
 in a tower, wasting my time in adoration of a painted shadow." 
 
 The resolution of Prince Ahmed was taken. "I will fly 
 from this palace," said he, " which has become an odious prison ; 
 and, a pilgrim of love, will seek this unknown princess through 
 out the world." To escape from the tower in the day, when 
 every one was awake, might be a difficult matter ; but at night 
 
THE OWL A PHILOSOPHER 173 
 
 the palace was slightly guarded ; for no one apprehended any 
 attempt of the kind from the prince, who had always been so 
 passive in his captivity. How was he to guide himself, how 
 ever, in his darkling flight, being ignorant of the country? He 
 bethought him of the owl, who was accustomed to roam at 
 night, and must know every by -lane and secret pass. Seeking 
 him in his hermitage, he questioned him touching his knowledge 
 of the land. Upon this the owl put on a mighty self-important 
 look. "You must know, prince," said he, "that we owls 
 are of a very ancient and extensive family, though rather fallen 
 to decay, and possess ruinous castles and palaces in all parts of 
 Spain. There is scarcely a tower of the mountains, or a fortress 
 of the plains, or an old citadel of a city, but has some brother, 
 or uncle, or cousin, quartered in it ; and in going the rounds to 
 visit this my numerous kindred, I have pried into every nook 
 and corner, and made myself acquainted with every secret of 
 the land." 
 
 The prince was overjoyed to find the owl so deeply versed in 
 topography, and now informed him, in confidence, of his tender 
 passion and his intended elopement, urging him to be his com 
 panion and counsellor. 
 
 "Go to !" said the owl, with a look of displeasure; "am I 
 a bird to engage in a love-affair? I, whose whole time is 
 devoted to meditation and the moon ? " 
 
 "Be not offended, most solemn owl," replied the prince; 
 " abstract thyself for a time from meditation and the moon, and 
 aid me in my flight, and thou shalt have whatever heart can 
 wish." 
 
 "I have that already," said the owl: "a few mice are suffi 
 cient for my frugal table, and this hole in the wall is spacious 
 enough for my studies; and what more does a philosopher like 
 myself desire ? " 
 
 " Bethink thee, most wise owl, that while moping in thy cell 
 and gazing at the moon, all thy talents are lost to the world. 
 
174 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 I shall one day be a sovereign prince, and may advance thee to 
 some post of honor and dignity." 
 
 The owl, though a philosopher and above the ordinary wants 
 of life, was not above ambition, so he was finally prevailed on 
 to elope with the prince, and be his guide and mentor in his 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 The plans of a lover are promptly executed. The prince 
 collected all his jewels, and concealed them about his person 
 as travelling funds. That very night he lowered himself by 
 his scarf from a balcony of the tower, clambered over the outer 
 walls of the Generalife, and, guided by the owl, made good his 
 escape before morning to the mountains. 
 
 He now held a council with his mentor as to his future 
 course. 
 
 " Might I advise," said the owl, "I would recommend you 
 to repair to Seville. You must know that many years since I 
 was on a visit to an uncle, an owl of great dignity and power, 
 who lived in a ruined wing of the Alcazar of that place. In 
 my hoverings at night over the city I frequently remarked a 
 light burning in a lonely tower. At length I alighted on the 
 battlements, and found it to proceed from the lamp of an 
 Arabian magician : he was surrounded by his magic books, and 
 on his shoulder was perched his familiar, an ancient raven who 
 had come with him from Egypt. I am acquainted with that 
 raven, and owe to him a great part of the knowledge I possess. 
 The magician is since dead, but the raven still inhabits the 
 tower, for these birds, are of wonderful long life. I would 
 advise you, prince, to seek that raven, for he is a soothsayer 
 and a conjurer, and deals in the black art, for which all ravens, 
 and especially those of Egypt, are renowned." 
 
 The prince was struck with the wisdom of this advice, and 
 accordingly bent his course towards Seville. He travelled only 
 in the night to accommodate his companion, and lay by during 
 the day in some dark cavern or mouldering watch-tower, for 
 
THE CABALISTIC RAVEN 175 
 
 the owl knew every hiding-hole of the kind, and had a most 
 antiquarian taste for ruins. 
 
 At length one morning at daybreak they reached the city of 
 Seville, where the owl, who hated the glare and bustle of 
 crowded streets, halted without the gate, and took up his 
 quarters in a hollow tree. 
 
 The prince entered the gate, and readily found the magic 
 tower, which rose above the houses of the city, as a palm-tree 
 rises above the shrubs of the desert ; it was in fact the same 
 tower standing at the present day, and known as the Giralda, 
 the famous Moorish tower of Seville. 
 
 The prince ascended by a great winding staircase to the 
 summit of the tower, where he found the cabalistic raven, 
 an old, mysterious, gray-headed bird, ragged in feather, with a 
 film over one eye that gave him the glare of a spectre. He 
 was perched on one leg, with his head turned on one side, poring 
 with his remaining eye on a diagram described on the pavement. 
 
 The prince approached him with the awe and reverence natu 
 rally inspired by his venerable appearance and supernatural wis 
 dom. "Pardon me, most ancient and darkly wise raven," 
 exclaimed he, " if for a moment I interrupt those studies which 
 are the wonder of the world. You behold before you a votary 
 of love, who would fain seek your counsel how to obtain the 
 object of his passion." 
 
 " In other words," said the raven, with a significant look, 
 "you seek to try my skill in palmistry. Come, show me your 
 hand, and let me decipher the mysterious lines of fortune." 
 
 "Excuse me," said the prince, "I come not to pry into the 
 decrees of fate, which are hidden by Allah from the eyes of 
 mortals ; I am a pilgrim of love, and seek but to find a clue to 
 the object of my pilgrimage." 
 
 " And can you be at any loss for an object in amorous Anda 
 lusia ?" said the old raven, leering upon him with his single 
 eye; "above all, can you be at a loss in wanton Seville, 
 
176 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 where black-eyed damsels dance the zambra under every orange 
 grove?" 
 
 The prince blushed, and was somewhat shocked at hearing 
 an old bird with one foot in the grave talk thus loosely. " Be 
 lieve me," said he, gravely, " I am on none such light and vagrant 
 errand as thou dost insinuate. The black-eyed damsels of An 
 dalusia who dance among the orange groves of the Guadalquivir 
 are as naught to me. I seek one unknown but immaculate 
 beauty, the original of this picture ; and I beseech thee, most 
 potent raven, if it be within the scope of thy knowledge or the 
 reach of thy art, inform me where she may be found ? " 
 
 The gray-headed raven was rebuked by the gravity of the 
 prince. 
 
 "What know I," replied he, dryly, "of youth and beauty 1 ? 
 My visits are to the old and withered, not the fresh and fair ; 
 the harbinger of fate am I ; who croak bodings of death from 
 the chimney-top, and flap my wings at the sick man s win 
 dow. You must seek elsewhere for tidings of your unknown 
 beauty." 
 
 "And where can I seek if not among the sons of wisdom, 
 versed in the book of destiny*? Know that I am a royal prince, 
 fated by the stars, and sent on a mysterious enterprise on which 
 may hang the destiny of empires." 
 
 When the raven heard that it was a matter of vast moment, 
 in which the stars took interest, he changed his tone and man 
 ner, arid listened with profound attention to the story of the 
 prince. W T hen it was concluded, he replied, "Touching this 
 princess, I can give thee no information of myself, for my flight 
 is not among gardens, or around ladies bowers ; but hie thee to 
 Cordova, seek the palm-tree of the great Abderahman, which 
 stands in the court of the principal mosque : at the foot of it 
 thou wilt find a great traveller who has visited all countries 
 and courts, and been a favorite with queens and princesses. 
 He will give thee tidings of the object of thy search." 
 
THE TRAVELLED PARROT 177 
 
 " Many thanks for this precious information," said the prince. 
 " Farewell, most venerable conjurer." 
 
 " Farewell, pilgrim of love," said the raven, dryly, and again 
 fell to pondering on the diagram. 
 
 The prince sallied forth from Seville, sought his fellow-trav 
 eller the owl, who was still dozing in the hollow tree, and set 
 off for Cordova. 
 
 He approached it along hanging gardens, and orange and 
 citron groves, overlooking the fair valley of the Guadalquivir. 
 When arrived at its gates the owl flew up to a dark hole in the 
 wall, and the prince proceeded in quest of the palm-tree planted 
 in days of yore by the great Abderahman. It stood in the 
 midst of the great court of the mosque, towering from amidst 
 orange and cypress trees. Dervises and faquirs were seated in 
 groups under the cloisters of the court, and many of the faithful 
 were performing their ablutions at the fountains before entering 
 the mosque. 
 
 At the foot of the palm-tree was a crowd listening to the 
 words of one who appeared to be talking with great volubility. 
 " This," said the prince to himself, "must be the great traveller 
 who is to give me tidings of the unknown princess." He min 
 gled in the crowd, but was astonished to perceive that they 
 were all listening to a parrot, who with his bright-green coat, 
 pragmatical eye, and consequential top-knot had the air of a 
 bird on excellent terms with himself. 
 
 " How is this," said the prince to one of the by-standers, 
 " that so many grave persons can be delighted with the garrulity 
 of a chattering bird ? " 
 
 "You know not whom you speak of," said the other; "this 
 parrot is a descendant of the famous parrot of Persia, renowned 
 for his story-telling talent. He has all the learning of the East 
 at the tip of his tongue, and can quote poetry as fast as he can 
 talk. He has visited various foreign courts, where he has been 
 considered an oracle of erudition. He has been a universal 
 
178 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 favorite also with the fair sex, who have a vast admiration for 
 erudite parrots that can quote poetry." 
 
 "Enough," said the prince, "I will have some private talk 
 with this distinguished traveller." 
 
 He sought a private interview, and expounded the nature of 
 his errand. He had scarcely mentioned it when the parrot 
 burst into a fit of dry rickety laughter, that absolutely brought 
 tears into his eyes. " Excuse my merriment," said he, " but the 
 mere mention of love always sets me laughing." 
 
 The prince was shocked at this ill-timed mirth. " Is not 
 love," said he, " the great mystery of nature, the secret princi 
 ple of life, the universal bond of sympathy ? " 
 
 " A fig s end ! " cried the parrot, interrupting him ; " prithee 
 where hast thou learned this sentimental jargon ? Trust me, love 
 is quite out of vogue ; one never hears of it in the company of 
 wits and people of refinement." 
 
 The prince sighed as he recalled the different language of his 
 friend the dove. But this parrot, thought he, has lived about 
 the court, he affects the wit and the fine gentleman, he knows 
 nothing of the thing called love. Unwilling to provoke any 
 more ridicule of the sentiment which filled his heart, he 
 now directed his inquiries to the immediate purport of his 
 visit. 
 
 "Tell me," said he, "most accomplished parrot, thou who 
 hast everywhere been admitted to the most secret bowers of 
 beauty, hast thou in the course of thy travels met with the 
 original of this portrait?" 
 
 The parrot took the picture in his claw, turned his head from 
 side to side, and examined it curiously with either eye. " Upon 
 my honor," said he, "a very pretty face, very pretty; but then 
 one sees so many pretty women in one s travels that one can 
 hardly but hold bless me ! now I look at it again sure 
 enough, this is the Princess Aldegonda : how could I forget one 
 that is so prodigious a favorite with me ! " 
 
THE TRAVELLED PARROT 179 
 
 "The Princess Aldegonda ! " echoed the prince; "and where 
 is she to be found ? " 
 
 " Softly, softly," said the parrot, " easier to be found than 
 gained. She is the only daughter of the Christian king who 
 reigns at Toledo, and is shut up from the world until her seven 
 teenth birthday, on account of some prediction of those meddle 
 some fellows the astrologers. You ll not get a sight of her; no 
 mortal man can see her. I was admitted to her presence to 
 entertain her, and I assure you, on the word of a parrot who 
 has seen the world, I have conversed with much sillier princesses 
 in my time." 
 
 " A word in confidence, my dear parrot," said the prince. "I 
 am heir to a kingdom, and shall one day sit upon a throne. I 
 see that you are a bird of parts, and understand the world. 
 Help me to gain possession of this princess, and I will advance 
 you to some distinguished place about court." 
 
 " With all my heart," said the parrot ; " but let it be a sine 
 cure if possible, for we wits have a great dislike to labor." 
 
 Arrangements were promptly made : the prince sallied forth 
 from Cordova through the same gate by which he had entered ; 
 called the owl down from the hole in the wall, introduced him 
 to his new travelling companion as a brother savant, and away 
 they set off on their journey. 
 
 They travelled much more slowly than accorded with the im 
 patience of the prince ; but the parrot was accustomed to high 
 life, and did not like to be disturbed early in the morning. The 
 owl, on the other hand, was for sleeping at mid-day, and lost a 
 great deal of time by his long siestas. His antiquarian taste 
 also was in the way ; for he insisted on pausing and inspecting 
 every ruin, and had long legendary tales to tell about every old 
 tower and castle in the country. The prince had supposed that 
 he and the parrot being both birds of learning, would delight 
 in each other s society, but never had he been more mistaken. 
 They were eternally bickering. The one was a wit, the other 
 
180 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 a philosopher. The parrot quoted poetry, was critical on new 
 readings and eloquent on small points of erudition ; the owl 
 treated all such knowledge as trifling, and relished nothing but 
 metaphysics. Then the parrot would sing songs and repeat bon 
 mots and crack jokes upon his solemn neighbor, and laugh out 
 rageously at his own wit ; all which proceedings the owl con 
 sidered as a grievous invasion of his dignity, and would scowl 
 and sulk and swell, and be silent for a whole day together. 
 
 The prince heeded not the wranglings of his companions, 
 being wrapped up in the dreams of his own fancy and the con 
 templation of the portrait of the beautiful princess. In this 
 way they journeyed through the stern passes of the Sierra Mo- 
 rena, across the sunburnt plains of La Mancha and Castile, and 
 along the banks of the " Golden Tagus," which winds its wizard 
 mazes over one-half of Spain and Portugal. At length they 
 came in sight of a strong city with walls and towers built on 
 a rocky promontory, round the foot of which the Tagus circled 
 with brawling violence. 
 
 "Behold," exclaimed the owl, "the ancient and renowned 
 city of Toledo ; a city famous for its antiquities. Behold those 
 venerable domes and towers, hoary with time and clothed with 
 legendary grandeur, in which so many of my ancestors have 
 meditated." 
 
 " Pish ! " cried the parrot, interrupting his solemn antiqua 
 rian rapture, " what have we to do with antiquities, and legends, 
 and your ancestry? Behold what is more to the purpose 
 behoid the abode of youth and beauty behold at length, 
 prince, the abode of your long-sought princess." 
 
 The prince looked in the direction indicated by the parrot, 
 and beheld, in a delightful green meadow on the banks of the 
 Tagus, a stately palace rising from amidst the bowers of a deli 
 cious garden. It was just such a place as had been described 
 by the dove as the residence of the original of the picture. 
 He gazed at it with a throbbing heart ; "perhaps at this mo- 
 
TOLEDO 181 
 
 ment," thought he, " the beautiful princess is sporting beneath 
 those shady bowers, or pacing with delicate step those stately 
 terraces, or reposing beneath those lofty roofs ! " As he looked 
 more narrowly, he perceived that the walls of the garden were 
 of great height, so as to defy access, while numbers of armed 
 guards patrolled around them. 
 
 The prince turned to the parrot. " most accomplished of 
 birds," said he, "thou hast the gift of human speech. Hie 
 thee to yon garden ; seek the idol of my soul, and tell her that 
 Prince Ahmed, a pilgrim of love, and guided by the stars, has 
 arrived in quest of her on the flowery banks of the Tagus." 
 
 The parrot, proud of his embassy, flew away to the garden, 
 mounted above its lofty walls, and after soaring for a time over 
 the lawns and groves, alighted on the balcony of a pavilion that 
 overhung the river. Here, looking in at the casement, he be 
 held the princess reclining on a couch, with her eyes fixed on a 
 paper, while tears gently stole after each other down her pallid 
 cheek. 
 
 Pluming his wings for a moment, adjusting his bright-green 
 coat, and elevating his top-knot, the parrot perched himself be 
 side her with a gallant air ; then assuming a tenderness of tone, 
 " Dry thy tears, most beautiful of princesses," said he ; "I come 
 to bring solace to thy heart." 
 
 The princess was startled on hearing a voice, but turning and 
 seeing nothing but a little green-coated bird bobbing and bow 
 ing before her. "Alas ! what solace canst thou yield," said she, 
 " seeing thou art but a parrot ? " 
 
 The parrot was nettled at the question. " I have consoled 
 many beautiful ladies in my time," said he ; " but let that pass. 
 At present I come ambassador from a royal prince. Know that 
 Ahmed, the prince of Granada, has arrived in quest of thee, and 
 is encamped even now on the flowery banks of the Tagus." 
 
 The eyes of the beautiful princess sparkled at these words 
 even brighter than the diamonds in her coronet. " sweetest 
 
182 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 of parrots," cried she, "joyful indeed are thy tidings, for I was 
 faint and weary, and sick almost unto death with doubt of the 
 constancy of Ahmed. Hie thee back, and tell him that the 
 words of his letter are engraven in my heart, and his poetry 
 has been the food of my soul. Tell him, however, that he must 
 prepare to prove his love by force of arms ; to-morrow is my 
 seventeenth birthday, when the king my father holds a great 
 tournament ; several princes are to enter the lists, and my hand 
 is to be the prize of the victor." 
 
 The parrot again took wing, and, rustling through the groves, 
 flew back to where the prince awaited his return. The rapture 
 of Ahmed on finding the original of his adored portrait, and 
 finding her kind and true, can only be conceived by those 
 favored mortals who have had the good fortune to realize day 
 dreams and turn a shadow into substance : still there was one 
 thing that alloyed his transport this impending tournament. 
 In fact, the banks of the Tagus were already glittering with 
 arms, and resounding with trumpets of the various knights, 
 who, with proud retinues, were prancing on towards Toledo 
 to attend the ceremonial. The same star that had controlled 
 the destiny of the prince had governed that of the princess, 
 and until her seventeenth birthday she had been shut up from 
 the world, to guard her from the tender passion. The fame of 
 her charms, however, had been enhanced rather than obscured 
 by this seclusion. Several powerful princes had contended 
 for her hand; and her father, who was a king of wondrous 
 shrewdness, to avoid making enemies by showing partiality, had 
 referred them to the arbitrament of arms. Among the rival can 
 didates were several renowned for strength and prowess. What 
 a predicament for the unfortunate Ahmed, unprovided as he 
 was with weapons, and unskilled in the exercise of chivalry! 
 "Luckless prince that I am ! " said he, " to have been brought 
 up in seclusion under the eye of a philosopher ! Of what avail 
 are algebra and philosophy in affairs of love ? Alas, Eben Bon- 
 
ENCHANTED AtiMOtt 183 
 
 abben ! why hast thou neglected to instruct me in the manage 
 ment of arms ? " Upon this the owl broke silence, preluding 
 his harangue with a pious ejaculation, for he was a devout 
 Mussulman. 
 
 " Allah Akbar ! God is great ! " exclaimed he ; "in his hands 
 are all secret things he alone governs the destiny of princes ! 
 Know, prince, that this land is full of mysteries, hidden from 
 all but those who, like myself, can grope after knowledge in 
 the dark. Know that in the neighboring mountains there is 
 a cave, and in that cave there is an iron table, and on that 
 table there lies a suit of magic armor, and beside that table 
 there stands a spell-bound steed, which have been shut up there 
 for many generations." 
 
 The prince stared with wonder, while the owl, blinking his 
 huge round eyes and erecting his horns, proceeded. 
 
 " Many years since I accompanied my father to these parts 
 on a tour of his estates, and we sojourned in that cave; and 
 thus became I acquainted with the mystery. It is a tradition 
 in our family which I have heard from my grandfather, when I 
 was yet but a very little owlet, that this armor belonged to a 
 Moorish magician, who took refuge in this cavern when Toledo 
 was captured by the Christians, and died there, leaving his 
 steed and weapons under a mystic spell, never to be used but 
 by a Moslem, and by him only from sunrise to mid-day. In 
 that interval, whoever uses them will overthrow every opponent." 
 
 " Enough : let us seek this cave ! " exclaimed Ahmed. 
 
 Guided by his legendary mentor, the prince found the cavern, 
 which was in one of the wildest recesses of those rocky cliffs 
 which rise around Toledo ; none but the mousing eye of an owl 
 or an antiquary could have discovered the entrance to it. A 
 sepulchral lamp of everlasting oil shed a solemn light through 
 the place. On an iron table in the centre of the cavern lay the 
 magic armor, against it leaned the lance, and beside it stood an 
 Arabian steed, caparisoned for the field, but motionless as a 
 
184 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 statue. The armor was bright and unsullied as it had gleamed 
 in days of old; the steed in as good condition as if just from 
 the pasture; and when Ahmed laid his hand upon his neck, he 
 pawed the ground and gave a loud neigh of joy that shook the 
 walls of the cavern. Thus amply provided with " horse and 
 rider and weapon to wear," the prince determined to defy the 
 field in the impending tourney. 
 
 The eventful morning arrived. The lists for the combat 
 were prepared in the Vega, or plain, just below the cliff- built 
 walls of Toledo, where stages and galleries were erected for 
 the spectators, covered with rich tapestry, and sheltered from 
 the sun by silken awnings. All the beauties of the land were 
 assembled in those galleries, while below pranced plumed knights 
 with their pages and esquires, among whom figured conspicuously 
 the princes who were to contend in the tourney. All the beauties 
 of the land, however, were eclipsed when the Princess Aldegonda 
 appeared in the royal pavilion, and for the first time broke 
 forth upon the gaze of an admiring world. A murmur of 
 wonder ran through the crowd at her transcendent loveliness ; 
 and the princes who were candidates for her liand, merely on 
 the faith of her reported charms, now felt tenfold ardor for the 
 conflict. 
 
 The princess, however, had a troubled look. The color came 
 and went from her cheek, and her eye wandered with a restless 
 and unsatisfied expression over the plumed throng of knights. 
 The trumpets were about sounding for the encounter, when the 
 herald announced the arrival of a strange knight; and Ahmed 
 rode into the field. A steel helmet studded with gems rose 
 above his turban; his cuirass was embossed with gold; his 
 cimeter and dagger were of the workmanship of Fez, and flamed 
 with precious stones. A round shield was at his shoulder, and 
 in his hand he bore the lance of charmed virtue. The cax>ari- 
 son of his Arabian steed was richly embroidered and swept the 
 ground, and the proud animal pranced and snuffed the air, and 
 
ENCHANTED ARMOR 185 
 
 neighed with joy at once more beholding the array of arms. 
 The lofty and graceful demeanor of the prince struck every eye, 
 and when his appellation was announced, " The Pilgrim of Love," 
 a universal flutter and agitation prevailed among the fair dames 
 in the galleries. 
 
 When Ahmed presented himself at the lists, however, they 
 were closed against him : none but princes, he was told, were 
 admitted to the contest. He declared his name and rank. Still 
 worse ! he was a Moslem, and could not engage in a tourney 
 where the hand of a Christian princess was the prize. 
 
 The rival princes surrounded him with haughty and menacing 
 aspects ; and one of insolent demeanor and herculean frame 
 sneered at his light and youthful form, and scoffed at his amor 
 ous appellation. The ire of the prince was roused. He defied 
 his rival to the encounter. They took distance, wheeled, and 
 charged ; and at the first touch of the magic lance, the brawny 
 scoffer was tilted from his saddle. Here the prince would have 
 paused, but, alas ! he had to deal with a demoniac horse and 
 armor ; once in action, nothing could control them. The Ara 
 bian steed charged into the thickest of the throng ; the lance 
 overturned everything that presented; the gentle prince was 
 carried pell-mell about the field, strewing it with high and low, 
 gentle and simple, and grieving at his own involuntary exploits. 
 The king stormed and raged at this outrage on his subjects and 
 his guests. He ordered out all his guards they were un 
 horsed as fast as they came up. The king threw off his robes, 
 grasped buckler and lance, and rode forth to awe the stranger 
 with the presence of majesty itself. Alas ! majesty fared no \ 
 better than the vulgar ; the steel and lance were no respecters 
 of persons ; to the dismay of Ahmed, he was borne full tilt 
 against the king, and in a moment the royal heels were in the 
 air, and the crown was rolling in the dust. 
 
 At this moment the sun reached the meridian ; the magic 
 spell resumed its power ; the Arabian steed scoured across the 
 
186 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 plain, leaped the barrier, plunged into the Tagus, swam its raging 
 current, bore the prince breathless and amazed to the cavern, 
 and resumed, his station, like a statue, beside the iron table. 
 The prince dismounted right gladly, and replaced the armor, to 
 abide the further decrees of fate. Then seating himself in the 
 cavern, he ruminated on the desperate state to which this de 
 moniac steed and armor had reduced him. Never should he 
 dare to show his face at Toledo after inflicting such disgrace 
 upon its chivalry, and such an outrage on its king. What too 
 would the princess think of so rude and riotous an achievement 1 
 Full of anxiety, he sent forth his winged messengers to gather 
 tidings. The parrot resorted to all the public places and crowded 
 resorts of the city, and soon returned with a world of gossip. 
 All Toledo was in consternation. The princess had been borne 
 off senseless to the palace ; the tournament had ended in con 
 fusion ; every one was talking of the sudden apparition, prodig 
 ious exploits, and strange disappearance of the Moslem knight. 
 Some pronounced him a Moorish magician ; others thought him 
 a demon who had assumed a human shape, while others related 
 traditions of enchanted warriors hidden in the caves of the moun 
 tains, and thought it might be one of these, who had made a 
 sudden irruption from his den. All agreed that no mere ordi 
 nary mortal could have wrought such wonders, or unhorsed such 
 accomplished and stalwart Christian warriors. 
 
 The owl flew forth at night and ho vered about the dusky 
 city, perching on the roofs and chimneys. He then wheeled his 
 flight up to the royal palace, which stood on a rocky summit of 
 Toledo, and went prowling about its terraces and battlements, 
 eavesdropping at every cranny, and glaring in with his big gog 
 gling eyes at every window where there was a light, so as to 
 throw two or three maids of honor into fits. It was not until 
 the gray dawn began to peer above the mountains that he re 
 turned from his mousing expedition, and related to the prince 
 what he had seen. 
 
THE REPORT OF THE PARROT 187 
 
 " As I was prying about one of the loftiest towers of the pal 
 ace," said he, "I beheld through a casement a beautiful princess. 
 She was reclining on a couch with attendants and physicians 
 around her, but she would none of their ministry and relief. 
 When they retired, I beheld her draw forth a letter from her 
 bosom, and read and kiss it, and give way to loud lamentations ; 
 at which, philosopher as I am, I could but be greatly moved." 
 
 The tender heart of Ahmed was distressed at these tidings. 
 "Too true were thy words, sage Eben Bonabben," cried he; 
 "care and sorrow and sleepless nights are the lot of lovers. 
 Allah preserve the princess from the blighting influence of this 
 thing called love ! " 
 
 Further intelligence from Toledo corroborated the report of 
 the owl. The city was a prey to uneasiness and alarm. The 
 princess was conveyed to the highest tower of the palace, every 
 avenue to which was strongly guarded. In the meantime a de 
 vouring melancholy had seized upon her, of which no one could 
 divine the cause she refused food and turned a deaf ear to 
 every consolation. The most skilful physicians had essayed their 
 art in vain ; it was thought some magic spell had been practised 
 upon her, and the king made proclamation, declaring that who 
 ever should effect her cure should receive the richest jewel in 
 the royal treasury. 
 
 When the owl, who was dozing in a corner, heard of this 
 proclamation, he rolled his large eyes and looked more myste 
 rious than ever. 
 
 "Allah Akbar!" exclaimed he, "happy the man that shall 
 effect that cure, should he but know what to choose from the 
 royal treasury." 
 
 "What mean you, most reverend owl?" said Ahmed. 
 
 - " Hearken, prince, to what I shall relate. We owls, you 
 
 must know, are a learned body, and much given to dark and 
 
 dusty research. During my late prowling at night about the 
 
 domes and turrets of Toledo, I discovered a college of anti- 
 
188 THE ALHAMBHA 
 
 quartan owls, who hold their meetings in a great vaulted tower 
 where the royal treasury is deposited. Here they were discuss 
 ing the forms and inscriptions and designs of ancient gems and 
 jewels, and of golden and silver vessels, heaped up in the treas 
 ury, the fashion of every country and age; but mostly they 
 were interested about certain relics and talismans that have 
 remained in the treasury since the time of Roderick the Goth. 
 Among these was a box of sandal- wood secured by bands of 
 steel of Oriental workmanship, and inscribed with mystic char 
 acters known only to the learned few. This box and its inscrip 
 tion had occupied the college for several sessions, and had 
 caused much long and grave dispute. At the time of my 
 visit a very ancient owl, who had recently arrived from Egypt, 
 was seated on the lid of the box, lecturing upon the inscrip 
 tion, and he proved from it that the coffer contained the silken 
 carpet of the throne of Solomon the Wise ; which doubtless had 
 been brought to Toledo by the Jews who took refuge there after 
 the downfall of Jerusalem." 
 
 When the owl had concluded his antiquarian harangue, the 
 prince remained for a time absorbed in thought. " I have 
 heard," said he, "from the sage Eben Bonabben, of the wonder- 
 full properties of that talisman, which disappeared at the fall of 
 Jerusalem, and was supposed to be lost to mankind. Doubt 
 less it remains a sealed mystery to the Christians of Toledo. 
 If I can get possession of that carpet, my fortune is secure." 
 
 The next day the prince laid aside his rich attire, and 
 arrayed himself in the simple garb of an Arab of the desert. 
 He dyed his complexion to a tawny hue, and no one could have 
 recognized in him the splendid warrior who had caused such 
 admiration and dismay at the tournament. With staff in hand, 
 and scrip by his side, and a small pastoral reed, he repaired to 
 Toledo, and presenting himself at the gate of the royal palace, an 
 nounced himself as a candidate for the reward offered for the cure 
 of the princess. The guards would have driven him away with 
 

 THE POWER OF MUSIC 189 
 
 blows. " What can a vagrant Arab like thyself pretend to do," 
 said they, " in a case where the most learned of the land have 
 failed ? " The king, however, overheard the tumult, and ordered 
 the Arab to be brought into his presence. 
 
 "Most potent king," said Ahmed, "you behold before you a 
 Bedouin Arab, the greater part of whose life has been passed 
 in the solitudes of the desert. These solitudes, it is well 
 known, are the haunts of demons and evil spirits, who beset us 
 poor shepherds in our lonely watchings, enter into and possess 
 our flocks and herds, and sometimes render even the patient 
 camel furious ; against these, our counter-charm is music ; and 
 we have legendary airs handed down from generation to genera 
 tion, that we chant and pipe, to cast forth these evil spirits. 
 I am of a gifted line, and possess this power in its fullest force. 
 If it be any evil influence of the kind that holds a spell over 
 thy daughter, I pledge my head to free her from its sway." 
 
 The king, who was a man of understanding, and knew the 
 wonderful secrets possessed by the Arabs, was inspired with 
 hope by the confident language of the prince. He conducted 
 him immediately to the lofty tower, secured by several doors, in 
 the summit of which was the chamber of the princess. The 
 windows opened upon a terrace with balustrades, commanding a 
 view over Toledo and all the surrounding country. The win 
 dows were darkened, for the princess lay within, a prey to a 
 devouring grief that refused all alleviation. 
 
 The prince seated himself on a terrace, and performed several 
 wild Arabian airs on his pastoral pipe, which he had learnt 
 from his attendants in the Generalise at Granada. The prin 
 cess continued insensible, and the doctors who were present 
 shook their heads, and smiled with incredulity and contempt : 
 at length the prince laid aside the reed, and, to a simple melody, 
 chanted the amatory verses of the letter which had declared his 
 passion. 
 
 The princess recognized the strain a fluttering joy stole to 
 
190 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 her heart ; she raised her head and listened ; tears rushed to 
 her eyes and streamed down her cheeks ; her bosom rose and 
 fell with a tumult of emotions. She would have asked for the 
 minstrel to be brought into her presence, but maiden coyness 
 held her silent. The king read her wishes, and at his command 
 Ahmed was conducted into the chamber. The lovers were dis 
 creet : they but exchanged glances, yet those glances spoke 
 volumes. Never was triumph of music more complete. The 
 rose had returned to the soft cheek of the princess, the fresh 
 ness to her lip, and the dewy light to her languishing eyes. 
 
 All the physicians present stared at each other with astonish 
 ment. The king regarded the Arab minstrel with admiration 
 mixed with awe. "Wonderful youth !" exclaimed he, "thou 
 shalt henceforth be the first physician of my court, and no 
 other prescription will I take but thy melody. For the present 
 receive thy reward, the most precious jewel in my treasury." 
 
 "0 king," replied Ahmed, "I care not for silver or gold or 
 precious stones. One relic hast thou in thy treasury, handed 
 down from the Moslems, who once owned Toledo a box of 
 sandal-wood containing a silken carpet : give me that box, and 
 I am content." 
 
 All present were surprised at the moderation of the Arab, 
 and still more when the box of sandal-wood was brought and 
 the carpet drawn forth. It was of fine green silk, covered with 
 Hebrew and Chaldaic characters. The court physicians looked 
 at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and smiled at the 
 simplicity of this new practitioner, who could be content with so 
 paltry a fee. 
 
 " This carpet," said the prince, " once covered the throne of 
 Solomon the Wise; it is worthy of being placed beneath the 
 feet of beauty." 
 
 So saying, he spread it on the terrace beneath an ottoman 
 that had been brought forth for the princess ; then seating him 
 self at her feet 
 
THE CARPET OF SOLOMON 191 
 
 "Who," said he, "shall counteract what is written in the 
 book of fate ? Behold the prediction of the astrologers verified. 
 Know, king, that your daughter and I have long loved each 
 other in secret. Behold in me the Pilgrim of Love ! " 
 
 These words were scarcely from his lips when the carpet 
 rose in the air, bearing off the prince and princess. The king 
 and the physicians gazed after it with open mouths and strain 
 ing eyes until it became a little speck on the white bosom of a 
 cloud, and then disappeared in the blue vault of heaven. 
 
 The king in a rage summoned his treasurer. " How is this," 
 said he, "that thou hast suffered an infidel to get possession of 
 such a talisman ? " 
 
 " Alas, sir, we knew not its nature, nor could we decipher 
 the inscription of the box. If it be indeed the carpet of the 
 throne of the wise Solomon, it is possessed of magic power, 
 and can transport its owner from place to place through the 
 air." 
 
 The king assembled a mighty army, and set off for Granada 
 in pursuit of the fugitives. His march was long and toilsome. 
 Encamping in the Vega, he sent a herald to demand restitu 
 tion of his daughter. The king himself came forth with all his 
 court to meet him. In the king he beheld the real minstrel, 
 for Ahmed had succeeded to the throne on the death of his 
 father, and the beautiful Aldegonda was his sultana. 
 
 The Christian king was easily pacified when he found that 
 his daughter was suffered to continue in her faith ; not that he 
 was particularly pious, but religion is always a point of pride 
 and etiquette with princes. Instead of bloody battles, there 
 was a succession of feasts and rejoicings, after which the king 
 returned well pleased to Toledo, and the youthful couple con 
 tinued to reign as happily as wisely, in the Alhambra. 
 
 It is proper to add, that the owl and the parrot had severally 
 followed the prince by easy stages to Granada ; the former trav 
 elling by night, and stopping at the various hereditary posses- 
 
192 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 sious of his family ; the latter figuring in gay circles of every 
 town and city on his route. 
 
 Ahmed gratefully requited the services which they had ren 
 dered on his "pilgrimage. He appointed the owl his prime min 
 ister, the parrot his master of ceremonies. It is needless to say 
 that never was a realm more sagely administered, nor a court 
 conducted with more exact punctilio. 
 
 A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS 
 
 I USED frequently to amuse myself towards the close of the 
 day, when the heat had subsided, with taking long rambles 
 about the neighboring hills, and the deep umbrageous valleys, 
 accompanied by my historiographic_ squire, Mateo, to whose 
 passion for gossiping I on such occasions gave the most un 
 bounded license ; and there was scarce a rock, or ruin, or 
 broken fountain, or lonely glen, about which he had not some 
 marvellous story ; or, above all, some golden legend ; for never 
 was poor devil so munificent in dispensing hidden treasures. 
 
 In the course of one of these strolls Mateo was more than usu 
 ally communicative. It was towards sunset that we sallied forth 
 from the great Gate of Justice, and ascended an alley of trees 
 until we came to a clump of figs and pomegranates at the foot 
 of the Tower of the Seven Floors (de los sie te suelos), the iden 
 tical tower whence Boabdil is said to have issued, when he sur 
 rendered his capital. Here, pointing to a lo.vv archway in the 
 foundation, Mateo informed me of a monstrous sprite or hob 
 goblin, said to infest this tower, ever since the time of the 
 Moors, and to guard the treasures of a Moslem king. Some 
 times it issues forth in the dead .of the night, and scours the 
 avenues of the Alhambra, and the streets of Granada, in the 
 shape of a headless horse, pursued by six dogs with terrible 
 yells and howlings. 
 
THE RAVINE OF THE JAR 193 
 
 " But have you ever met with it yourself, Mateo, in any of 
 your rambles ? " demanded I. 
 
 " No, Senor, God be thanked ! but my grandfather, the 
 tailor, knew several persons that had seen it, for it went about 
 much oftener in his time than at present ; sometimes in one 
 shape, sometimes in another. Everybody in Granada has heard 
 of the Belludo, for the old women and the nurses frighten the 
 children with it when they cry. Some say it is the spirit of a 
 cruel Moorish king, who killed his six sons and buried them in 
 these vaults, and that they hunt him at nights in revenge." 
 
 I forbear to dwell upon the marvellous details given by the 
 simple-minded Mateo about this redoubtable phantom, which has, 
 in fact been time out of mind a favorite theme of nursery tales 
 and popular tradition in Granada, and of which honorable men 
 tion is made by an ancient and learned historian and topographer 
 of the place. 
 
 Leaving this eventful pile, w r e continued our course, skirting 
 the fruitful orchards of the Generalife, in which two or three 
 nightingales were pouring forth a rich strain of melody. Be 
 hind these orchards we passed a number of Moorish tanks, 
 with a door cut into the rocky bosom of the hill, but closed up. 
 These tanks, Mateo informed me, were favorite bathing-places 
 of himself and his comrades in boyhood, until frightened away 
 by a story of a hideous Moor, who used to issue forth from the 
 door in the rock to entrap unwary bathers. 
 
 Leaving these haunted tanks behind us, we pursued our 
 ramble up a solitary mule-path winding among the hills, and 
 soon found ourselves amidst wild and melancholy mountains, 
 destitute of trees, and here and there tinted with scanty verdure. 
 Everything within sight was severe and sterile, and it was 
 scarcely possible to realize the idea that but a short distance 
 behind us was the Generalife, with its blooming orchards and 
 terraced gardens, and that we were in the vicinity of delicious 
 Granada, that city of groves and fountains. But such is the 
 
194 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 nature of Spain ; wild and stern the moment it escapes from 
 cultivation ; the desert and the garden are ever side by side. 
 
 The narrow defile up which we were passing is called, accord 
 ing to Mateo, el Barranco de la tinaja, or the ravine of the 
 jar, because a jar full of Moorish gold was found here in old 
 times. The brain of poor Mateo was continually running upon 
 these golden legends. 
 
 " But what is the meaning of the cross I see yonder upon a 
 heap of stones, in that narrow part of the ravine ? " 
 
 "Oh, that s nothing a muleteer was murdered there some 
 years since." 
 
 "So then, Mateo, you have robbers and murderers even at 
 the gates of the Alhambra ? " 
 
 "Not at present, Seiior; that was formerly, when there used 
 to be many loose fellows about the fortress; but they ve all 
 been weeded out. Not but that the gipsies who live in caves 
 in the hill-sides, just out of the fortress, are many of them fit 
 for anything ; but we have had no murder about here for a long 
 time past. The man who murdered the muleteer was hanged 
 in the fortress." 
 
 Our path continued up the barranco, with a bold, rugged 
 height to our left, called the " Silla del Moro," or Chair of the 
 Moor, from the tradition already alluded to, that the unfortunate 
 Boabdil fled thither during a popular insurrection, and remained 
 all day seated on the rocky summit, looking mournfully down 
 on his factious city. 
 
 We at length arrived on the highest part of the promontory 
 above Granada, called the mountain of the sun. The evening 
 was approaching; the setting sun just gilded the loftiest heights 
 Here and there a solitary shepherd might be descried driving 
 his flock clown the declivities, to be folded for the night; or 
 a muleteer and his lagging animals, threading some mountain 
 path to arrive at the city gates before nightfall. 
 
 Presently the deep tones of the Cathedral bell came swelling 
 
SUBTERRANEAN CAVERNS 195 
 
 up the defiles, proclaiming the hour of " oration " or prayer. 
 The note was responded to from the belfry of every church, and 
 from the sweet bells of the convents among the mountains. 
 The shepherd paused on the fold of the hill, the muleteer in 
 the midst of the road; each took off his hat and remained 
 motionless for a time, murmuring his evening prayer. There 
 is always something pleasingly solemn in this custom, by which, 
 at a melodious signal, every human being throughout the land 
 unites at the same moment in a tribute of thanks to God for 
 the mercies of the day. It spreads a transient sanctity over 
 the land, and the sight of the sun sinking in all his glory adds 
 not a little to the solemnity of the scene. 
 
 In the present instance the effect was heightened by the wild 
 and lonely nature of the place. We were on the naked and 
 broken summit of the haunted mountain of the sun, where 
 ruined tanks and cisterns, and the mouldering foundations of 
 extensive buildings, spoke of former populousness, but where 
 all was now silent and desolate. 
 
 As we were wandering about among these traces of old times, 
 we came to a circular pit, penetrating deep into the bosom of 
 the mountain ; which Mateo pointed out as one of the wonders 
 and mysteries of the place. I supposed it to be a well dug by 
 the indefatigable Moors, to obtain their favorite element in its 
 greatest purity. Mateo, however, had a different story, and 
 one much more to his humor. According to a tradition, in 
 which his father and grandfather firmly believed, this was an 
 entrance to the subterranean caverns of the mountain, in which 
 Boabdil and his court lay bound in magic spell; and whence 
 they sallied forth at night, at allotted times, to revisit their 
 ancient abodes. 
 
 "Ah, Seiior, this mountain is full of wonders of the kind. 
 In another place there was a hole somewhat like this, and just 
 within it hung an iron pot by a chain; nobody knew what was 
 in that pot, for it was always covered up; but everybody sup- 
 
196 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 posed it full of Moorish gold. Many tried to draw it forth, for 
 it seemed just within reach; but the moment it was touched it 
 would sink far, far down, and not come up again for some time. 
 At last one who thought it must be enchanted touched it with 
 the cross, by way of breaking the charm; and faith he did 
 break it, for the pot sank out of sight and never was seen any 
 more. 
 
 "All this is fact, Seiior; for my grandfather was an eye 
 witness." 
 
 "What! Mateo; did he see the pot?" 
 
 "No, Senor, but he saw the hole where the pot had hung." 
 
 "It s the same thing, Mateo." 
 
 The deepening twilight, which in this climate is of short 
 duration, admonished us to leave this haunted ground. As we 
 descended the mountain defile, there was no longer herdsman 
 nor muleteer to be seen, nor anything to be heard bu our own 
 footsteps and the lonely chirping of the cricket. The shadows 
 of the valley grew deeper and deeper, until all was dark around 
 us. The lofty summit of the Sierra Nevada alone retained a 
 lingering gleam of daylight; its snowy peaks glaring against 
 the dark blue firmament, and seeming close to us, from the 
 extreme purity of the atmosphere. 
 
 " How near the Sierra looks this evening ! " said Mateo ; 
 " it seems as if you could touch it with your hand ; and yet it 
 is many long leagues off." While he was speaking, a star 
 appeared over the snowy summit of the mountain, the only one 
 yet visible in the heavens, and so pure, so large, so bright and 
 beautiful, as to call forth ejaculations of delight from honest 
 Mateo. 
 
 " Que estrella hermosa ! que clara y limpid es / No pueda 
 ser estrella mas brillante ! " 
 
 (What a beautiful star ! how clear and lucid a star could 
 not be more brilliant !) 
 
 I have often remarked this sensibility of the common people 
 
LIGHTS ON THE MOUNTAIN 197 
 
 of Spain to the charms of natural objects. The lustre of a 
 star, the beauty or fragrance of a flower, the crystal purity of 
 a fountain, will inspire them with a kind of poetical delight ; 
 and then, what euphonious words their magnificent language 
 affords, with which to give utterance to their transports ! 
 
 " But what lights are those, Mateo, which I see twinkling 
 along the Sierra Nevada, just below the snowy region, and 
 which might be taken for stars, only that they are ruddy, and 
 against the dark side of the mountain ? " 
 
 " Those, Senor, are fires, made by the men who gather snow 
 and ice for the supply of Granada. They go up every after 
 noon with mules and asses, and take turns, some to rest and 
 warm themselves by the fires, while others fill the panniers 
 with ice. They then set off down the mountains, so as to 
 reach the gates of Granada before sunrise. That Sierra Ne 
 vada, Senor, is a lump of ice in the middle of Andalusia, to 
 keep it all cool in summer." 
 
 It was now completely dark ; we were passing through the 
 barranco, where stood the cross of the murdered muleteer, when 
 I beheld a number of lights moving at a distance, and appar 
 ently advancing up the ravine. On nearer approach, they 
 proved to be torches borne by a train of uncouth figures ar 
 rayed in black : it would have been a procession dreary 
 enough at any time, but was peculiarly so in this wild and 
 solitary place. 
 
 Mateo drew near, and told me, in a low voice, that it was a 
 funeral train bearing a corpse to the burying-ground among the 
 hills. 
 
 As the procession passed by, the lugubrious light of the 
 torches, falling on the rugged features and funeral weeds of the 
 attendants, had the most fantastic effect, but was perfectly 
 ghastly, as it revealed the countenance of the corpse, which, 
 according to the Spanish custom, was borne uncovered on an 
 open bier. I remained for some time gazing after the dreary 
 
198 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 train as it wound up the dark defile of the mountain. It put 
 me in mind of the old story of a procession of demons bearing 
 the body of a sinner up the crater of Stromboli. 
 
 " Ah ! Senor," cried Mateo, " I could tell you a story of a 
 procession once seen among these mountains, but then you d 
 laugh at me, and say it was one of the legacies of my grand 
 father the tailor." 
 
 "By no means, Mateo. There is nothing I relish more than 
 a -marvellous tale." 
 
 " Well, Senor, it is about one of those very men we have 
 been talking of, who gather snow on the Sierra Nevada. 
 
 " You must know, that a great many years since, in my 
 grandfather s time, there was an old fellow, Tio Nicolo (Uncle 
 Nicholas) by name, who had filled the panniers of his mule 
 with snow and ice, and was returning down the mountain. 
 Being very drowsy, he mounted upon the mule, and soon fall 
 ing asleep, went with his head nodding and bobbing about 
 from side to side, while his sure-footed old mule stepped along 
 the edge of precipices, and down steep and broken barrancos, 
 just as safe and steady as if it had been on plain ground. At 
 length Tio Meolo awoke, and gazed about him, and rubbed his 
 eyes and, in good truth, he had reason. The moon shone 
 almost as bright as day, and he saw the city below him, as 
 plain as your hand, and shining with its white buildings, like a 
 silver platter, in the moonshine ; but, Lord ! Senor, it was 
 nothing like the city he had left a few hours before ! Instead 
 of the cathedral, with its great dome and turrets, and the 
 churches with their spires, and the convents with their pinna 
 cles, all surmounted with the blessed cross, he saw nothing 
 but Moorish mosques, and minarets, and cupolas, all topped 
 off with glittering crescents, such as you see on the Barbary 
 flags. Well, Senor, as you may suppose, Tio Nicolo was 
 mightily puzzled at all this, but while he was gazing down 
 upon the city, a great army came marching up the mountains, 
 
THE PHANTOM ARMY 199 
 
 winding along the ravines, sometimes in the moonshine, some 
 times in the shade. As it drew nigh, he saw that there were 
 horse and foot, all in Moorish armor. Tio Nicolo tried to 
 scramble out of their way, but his old mule stood stock still, 
 and refused to budge, trembling, at the same time, like a leaf, 
 for dumb beasts, Senor, are just as much frightened at such 
 things as human beings. Well, Senor, the hobgoblin army 
 came marching by ; there were men that seemed to blow trum 
 pets, and others to beats drums and strike cymbals, yet never 
 a sound did they make ; they all moved on without the least 
 noise, just as I have seen painted armies move across the stage 
 in the theatre of Granada, and all looked as pale as death. At 
 last, in the rear of the army, between two black Moorish horse 
 men, rode the Grand Inquisitor of Granada, on a mule as white 
 as snow. Tio Mcolo wondered to see him in such company, 
 for the Inquisitor was famous for his hatred of Moors, and, 
 indeed, of all kinds of Infidels, Jews, and heretics, and used to 
 hunt them out with fire and scourge. However, Tio Nicolo 
 felt himself safe, now that there was a priest of such sanctity 
 at hand. So making the sign of the cross, he called out for 
 his benediction, when, hombre ! he received a blow that sent 
 him and his old mule over the edge of a steep bank, down 
 which they rolled, head-over-heels, to the bottom ! Tio Nicolo 
 did not come to his senses until long after sunrise, when he 
 found himself at the bottom of a deep ravine, his mule grazing 
 beside him, and his panniers of snow completely melted. He 
 crawled back to Granada sorely bruised and battered, but was 
 glad to find the city looking as usual, with Christian churches 
 and crosses. When he told the story of his night s adventure, 
 every one laughed at him ; some said he had dreamed it all, as 
 he dozed on his mule : others thought it all a fabrication of his 
 own ; but what was strange, Senor, and made people afterwards 
 think more seriously of the matter, was, that the Grand In 
 quisitor died within the year. I have often heard my grand- 
 
200 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 father, the tailor, say, that there was more meant by that 
 hobgoblin army bearing off the resemblance of the priest, than 
 folks dared to surmise." 
 
 "Then you would insinuate, friend Mateo, that there is a 
 kind of Moorish limbo, or purgatory, in the bowels of these 
 mountains, to which the padre Inquisitor was borne off." 
 
 " God forbid, Seiior ! I know nothing of the matter. I 
 only relate what I heard from my grandfather." 
 
 By the time Mateo had finished the tale, which I have more 
 succinctly related, and which was interlarded with many com 
 ments, and spun out with minute details, we reached the gate 
 of the Alhambra. 
 
 The marvellous stories hinted at by Mateo, in the early part 
 of our ramble about the Tower of the Seven Floors, set me as 
 usual upon my goblin researches. I found that the redoubta 
 ble phantom, the Belludo, had been time out of mind a favorite 
 theme of nursery tales and popular traditions in Granada, and 
 that honorable mention had even been made of it by an ancient 
 historian and topographer of the place. The scattered members 
 of one of these popular traditions I have gathered together, col 
 lated them with infinite pains, and digested them into the fol 
 lowing legend ; which only wants a number of learned notes 
 and references at bottom to take its rank among those concrete 
 productions gravely passed upon the world for Historical Facts. 
 
 LEGEND OF THE MOOR S LEGACY 
 
 JUST within the fortress of the Alhambra, in front of the 
 royal palace, is a broad open esplanade, called the Place or 
 Square of the Cisterns (la Plaza de los Algibes), so called from 
 being undermined by reservoirs of water, hidden from sight, 
 and which have existed from the time of the Moors. At one 
 corner of this esplanade is a Moorish well, cut through the liv- 
 
LEGEND OF THE MOOR S LEGACY 201 
 
 ing rock to a great depth, the water of which is cold as ice and 
 clear as crystal. The wells made by the Moors are always in 
 repute, for it is well known what pains they took to penetrate 
 to the purest and sweetest springs and fountains. The one of 
 which we now speak is famous throughout Granada, insomuch 
 that water-carriers, some bearing great water-jars on their 
 shoulders, others driving asses before them laden with earthen 
 vessels, are ascending and descending the steep woody avenues 
 of the Alhambra, from early dawn until a late hour of the 
 night. 
 
 Fountains and wells, ever since the scriptural days, have 
 been noted gossiping-places in hot climates; and at the well 
 in question there is a kind of perpetual club kept up during the 
 livelong day, by the invalids, old women, and other curious do- 
 nothing folk of the fortress, who sit here on the stone benches, 
 under an awning spread over the well to shelter the toll-gath 
 erer from the sun, and dawdle over the gossip of the " fortress, 
 and question every water-carrier that arrives about the news of 
 the city, and make long comments on everything they hear and 
 see. Not an hour of the day but loitering housewives- and idle 
 maid-servants may be seen, lingering, with pitcher on head or 
 in hand, to hear the last of the endless tattle of these worthies. , 
 
 Among the water-carriers who once resorted to this well, 
 there was a sturdy, strong-backed, bandy-legged little fellow, 
 named Pedro Gil, but called Peregil for shortness. Being a 
 water-carrier, he was a Gallego, or native of Gallicia, of course. 
 Nature seems to have formed races of men, as she has of ani 
 mals, for different kinds of drudgery. In France the shoeblacks 
 are all Savoyards, the porters of hotels all Swiss, and in the 
 days of hoops and hair-powder in England, no man could give 
 the regular swing to a sedan-chair but a bog-trotting Irishman. 
 So in Spain, the carriers of water and bearers of burdens are all 
 sturdy little natives of Gallicia, No man says, "Get me a 
 porter," but, "Call a Gallego." 
 
202 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 To return from this digression, Peregil the Gal lego had be 
 gun business with merely a great earthen jar which he carried 
 upon his shoulder ; by degrees he rose in the world, and was 
 enabled to purchase an assistant of a correspondent class of 
 animals, being a stout shaggy-haired donkey. On each side of 
 this his long-eared aide-de-camp, in a kind of pannier, were 
 slung his water-jars, covered with fig-leaves to protect them 
 from the sun. There was not a more industrious water-carrier 
 in all Granada, nor one more merry withal. The streets rang 
 with his cheerful voice as he trudged after his donkey, singing 
 forth the usual summer note that resounds through the Spanish 
 towns : " Quien quiere agua agua mas fria que la nieve ? " 
 " Who wants water water colder than snow? Who 
 wants water from the well of the Alhambra, cold as ice and 
 clear as crystal ? " When he served a customer with a spark 
 ling glass, it was always with a pleasant word that caused a 
 smile ; and if, perchance, it was a comely dame or dimpling 
 damsel, it was always with a sly leer and a compliment to her 
 beauty that was irresistible. Thus Peregil the Gallego was 
 noted throughout all Granada for being one of the civilest, 
 pleasantest, and happiest of mortals. Yet it is not he who 
 sings loudest and jokes most that has the lightest heart. Un 
 der all this air of merriment, honest Peregil had his cares and 
 troubles. He had a large family of ragged children to support, 
 who were hungry and clamorous as a nest of young swallows, 
 and beset him with their outcries for food whenever he came 
 home of an evening. He had a helpmate, too, who was any 
 thing but a help to him. She had been a village beauty before 
 marriage, noted for her skill at dancing the bolero and rattling 
 the castanets ; and she still retained her early propensities, 
 spending the hard earnings of honest Peregil in frippery, and 
 laying the very donkey under requisition for junketing parties 
 into the country on Sundays and saints days, and those innum 
 erable holidays, which are rather more numerous in Spain than 
 
THE WELL OF THE ALHAMBRA 203 
 
 the days of the week. With all this she was a little of a slat 
 tern, something more of a lie-abed, and, above all, a gossip of 
 the first water ; neglecting house, household, and everything else, 
 to loiter slipshod in the houses of her gossip neighbors. 
 
 He, however, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, ac 
 commodates the yoke of matrimony to the submissive neck. 
 Peregil bore all the heavy dispensations of wife and children 
 with as meek a spirit as his donkey bore the water-jars ; and, 
 however he might shake his ears in private, never ventured to 
 question the household virtues of his slattern spouse. 
 
 He loved his children, too, even as an owl loves its owlets, 
 seeing in them his own image multiplied and perpetuated ; for 
 they were a sturdy, long -backed, bandy-legged little brood. 
 The great pleasure of honest Peregil was, whenever he could 
 afford himself a scanty holiday, and had a handful of maravedis 
 to spare, to take the whole litter forth with him, some in his 
 arms, some tugging at his skirts, and some trudging at his 
 heels, and to treat them to a gambol among the orchards of the 
 Vega, while his wife was dancing with her holiday friends in 
 the Angosturas of the Darro. 
 
 It was a late hour one summer night, and most of the water- 
 carriers had desisted from their toils. The day had been uncom 
 monly sultry; the night was one of those delicious moonlights 
 which tempt the inhabitants of southern climes to indemnify 
 themselves for the heat and inaction of the day, by lingering in 
 the open air, and enjoying its tempered sweetness until after 
 midnight. Customers for water were therefore still abroad. 
 Peregil, like a considerate, painstaking father, thought of his 
 hungry children. " One more journey to the well," said he to 
 himself, "to earn a Sunday s puchero for the little ones." So 
 saying, he trudged manfully up the steep avenue of the Alham- 
 bra, singing as he went, and now and then bestowing a hearty 
 thwack with a cudgel on the flanks of his donkey, either by 
 way of cadence to the song, or refreshment to the animal ; for 
 
204 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 dry blows serve in lieu of provender in Spain for all beasts of 
 burden. 
 
 When arrived at the well, he found it deserted by every one 
 except a solitary stranger in Moorish garb, seated on a stone 
 bench in the moonlight. Peregil paused at first and regarded 
 him with surprise, not unmixed with awe, but the Moor feebly 
 beckoned him to approach. " I am faint and ill," said he ; 
 "aid me to return to the city, and I will pay thee double what 
 thou couldst gain by thy jars of water." 
 
 The honest heart of the little water-carrier was touched with 
 compassion at the appeal of the stranger. "God forbid," said 
 he, "that I should ask fee or reward for doing a common act of 
 humanity." He accordingly helped the Moor on his donkey, 
 and set off slowly for Granada, the poor Moslem being so weak 
 that it was necessary to hold him on the animal to keep him 
 from falling to the earth. 
 
 When they entered the city, the water-carrier demanded 
 whither he should conduct him. "Alas!" said the Moor, 
 faintly, " I have neither home nor habitation ; I am a stranger 
 in the land. Suffer me to lay my head this night beneath thy 
 roof, and thou shalt be amply repaid." 
 
 Honest Peregil thus saw himself unexpectedly saddled with 
 an infidel guest, but he was too humane to refuse a night s 
 shelter to a fellow-being in so forlorn a plight ; so he conducted 
 the Moor to his dwelling. The children, who had sallied forth 
 open-mouthed as usual on hearing the tramp of the donkey, ran 
 back with affright when they beheld the turbaned stranger, and 
 hid themselves behind their mother. The latter stepped forth 
 intrepidly, like a ruffling hen before her brood when a vagrant 
 dog approaches. 
 
 "What infidel companion," cried she, "is this you have 
 brought home at this late hour, to draw upon us the eyes of 
 the Inquisition ? " 
 
 "Be quiet, wife," replied the Gallego; "here is a poor sick 
 
THE TURBANED GUEST 205 
 
 stranger, without friend or home ; wouldst thou turn him forth 
 to perish in the streets 1 " 
 
 The wife would still have remonstrated, for although she 
 lived in a hovel, she was a furious stickler for the credit of her 
 house ; the little water-carrier, however, for once was stifFnecked, 
 and refused to bend beneath the yoke. He assisted the poor 
 Moslem to alight, and spread a mat and a sheep- skin for him, 
 on the ground, in the coolest part of the house; being the only 
 kind of bed that his poverty afforded. 
 
 In a little while the Moor was seized with violent convulsions, 
 which defied all the ministering skill of the simple water-carrier. 
 The eye of the poor patient acknowledged his kindness. During 
 an interval of his fits he called him to his side, and addressing 
 him in a low voice, " My end," said he, "I fear is at hand. If 
 I die, I bequeath you this box as a reward for your charity." 
 So saying, he opened his albornoz, or cloak, and showed a small 
 box of sandal- wood, strapped round his body. " God grant, my 
 friend," replied the worthy little Gallego, "that you may live 
 many years to enjoy your treasure, whatever it may be." The 
 Moor shook his head ; he laid his hand upon the box, and would 
 have said something more concerning it, but his convulsions re 
 turned with increasing violence, and in a little while he expired. 
 
 The water-carrier s wife was now as one distracted. "This 
 comes," said she, "of your foolish good-nature, always running 
 into scrapes to oblige others. What will become of us when 
 this corpse is found in our house? We shall be sent to prison 
 as murderers ; and, if we escape with our lives, shall be ruined 
 by notaries and alguazils. 
 
 Poor Peregil was in equal tribulation, and almost repented 
 himself of having done a good deed. At length a thought 
 struck him. "It is not yet day," said he; "I can convey the 
 dead body out of the city, and bury it in the sands on the banks 
 of the Xenil. No one saw the Moor enter our dwelling, and 
 no one will know anything of his death." 
 
206 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 So said, so done. The wife aided him ; they rolled the body 
 of the unfortunate Moslem in the mat on which he had expired, 
 laid it across the ass, and Peregil set out with it for the banks 
 of the river. 
 
 As ill luck would have it, there lived opposite to the water- 
 carrier a barber named Pedrillo Pedrugo, one of the most prying, 
 tattling, and mischief-making of his gossip tribe. He was a 
 weasel-faced, spider-legged varlet, supple and insinuating; the 
 famous barber of Seville could not surpass him for his universal 
 knowledge of the affairs of others, and he had no more power of 
 retention than a sieve. It was said that he slept but with one 
 eye at a time, and kept one ear uncovered, so that even in his 
 sleep he might see and hear all that was going on. Certain it is, 
 he was a sort of scandalous chronicle for the quidnuncs of Gra 
 nada, and had more customers than all the rest of his fraternity. 
 
 This meddlesome barber heard Peregil arrive at an unusual 
 hour at night, and the exclamations of his wife and children. 
 His head was instantly popped out of a little window which 
 served him as a look-out, and he saw his neighbor assist a man 
 in Moorish garb into his dwelling. This was so strange an 
 occurrence, that Pedrillo Pedrugo slept not a wink that night. 
 Every five minutes he was at his loophole, watching the lights 
 that gleamed through the chinks of his neighbor s door, and 
 before daylight he beheld Peregil sally forth with his donkey 
 unusually laden. 
 
 The inquisitive barber was in a fidget; he slipped on his 
 clothes, and, stealing forth silently, followed the water-carrier at 
 a distance, until he saw Him dig a hole in the sandy bank of 
 the Xenil, and bury something that had the appearance of a 
 dead body. 
 
 The barber hied him home, and fidgeted about his shop, set 
 ting everything upside down, until sunrise. He then took a 
 basin under his arm, and sallied forth to the house of his daily 
 customer the alcalde. 
 
A GOSSIP BARBER 207 
 
 The alcalde was just risen. Pedrillo Pedrugo seated him in 
 a chair, threw a napkin round his neck, put a basin of hot 
 water under his chin, and began to mollify his beard with his 
 fingers. 
 
 " Strange doings ! " said Pedrugo, who played barber and news 
 monger at the same time, " strange doings ! Eobbery, and 
 murder, and burial all in one night ! " 
 
 " Hey ! how ! what is that you say 1 " cried the alcalde. 
 
 " I say," replied the barber, rubbing a piece of soap over the 
 nose and mouth of the dignitary, for a Spanish barber disdains 
 to employ a brush, "I say that Peregil the Gallego has robbed 
 and murdered a Moorish Mussulman, and buried him, this blessed 
 night. Maldita sea la noche ; accursed be the night for "the 
 same ! " 
 
 " But how do you know all this ? " demanded the alcalde. 
 
 "Be patient, Senor, and you shall hear all about it," replied 
 Pedrillo, taking him by the nose and sliding a razor over his 
 cheek. He then recounted all that he had seen, going through 
 both operations at the same time, shaving his beard, washing 
 his chin, and wiping him dry with a dirty napkin, while he was 
 robbing, murdering, and burying the Moslem. 
 
 Now it so happened that this alcalde was one of the most 
 overbearing, and at the same time most griping and corrupt 
 curmudgeons in all Granada. It could not be denied, however, 
 that he set a high value upon justice, for he sold it at its weight 
 in gold. He presumed the case in point to be one of murder 
 and robbery ; doubtless there must be a rich spoil ; how was it 
 to be secured into the legitimate hands of the law ? for as to 
 merely entrapping the delinquent that would be feeding the 
 gallows ; but entrapping the booty that would be enriching 
 the judge, and such, according to his creed, was the great end 
 of justice. So thinking, he summoned to his presence his trusti 
 est alguazil a gaunt, hungry-looking yarlet, clad, according to 
 the custom of his order, in the ancienlTTSpanish garb, a broad 
 
208 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 black beaver turned up at its sides ; a quaint ruff ; a small 
 black cloak dangling from his shoulders ; rusty black under 
 clothes that set off his spare wiry frame, while in his hand he 
 bore a slender white wand, the dreaded insignia of his office. 
 Such was the legal bloodhound of the ancient Spanish breed, 
 that he put upon the traces of the unlucky water-carrier, and 
 such was his speed and certainty, that he was upon the haunches 
 of poor Peregil before he had returned to his dwelling, and 
 brought both him and his donkey before the dispenser of justice. 
 
 The alcalde bent upon him one of the most terrific frowns. 
 " Hark ye, culprit ! " roared he, in a voice that made the knees 
 of the little Gallego smite together, " hark ye, culprit ! there 
 is no need of denying thy guilt, everything is known to me. A 
 gallows is the proper reward for the crime thou hast committed, 
 but I am merciful, and readily listen to reason. The man that 
 has been murdered in thy house was a Moor, an infidel, the enemy 
 of our faith. It was doubtless in a fit of religious zeal that 
 thou hast slain him. I will be indulgent, therefore ; render up 
 the property of which thou hast robbed him, and we will hush 
 the matter up." 
 
 The poor water-carrier called upon all the saints to witness 
 his innocence ; alas ! not one of them appeared ; and if they 
 had, the alcalde would have disbelieved the whole calendar. 
 The water-carrier related the whole story of the dying Moor 
 with the straightforward simplicity of truth, but it was all in 
 vain. "Wilt thou persist in saying," demanded the judge, 
 " that this Moslem had neither gold nor jewels, which were the 
 object of thy cupidity ? " 
 
 "As I hope to be saved, your worship," replied the water- 
 carrier, " he had nothing but a small box of sandal- wood, which 
 he bequeathed to me in reward for my services." 
 
 " A box of sandal- wood ! a box of sandal- wood ! " exclaimed 
 the alcalde, his eyes sparkling at the idea of precious jewels. 
 " And where is this box ? where have you concealed it 1 " 
 
THE BOX OF SANDAL-WOOD 209 
 
 " An it please your grace," replied the water-carrier, "it is 
 in one of the panniers of my mule, and heartily at the service 
 of your worship." 
 
 He had hardly spoken the words, when the keen alguazil 
 darted off, and reappeared in an instant with the mysterious 
 box of sandal-wood. The alcalde opened it with an eager and 
 trembling hand ; all pressed forward to gaze upon the treasure 
 it was expected to contain ; when, to their disappointment, 
 nothing appeared within, but a parchment scroll, covered with 
 Arabic characters, and an end of a waxen taper. 
 
 When there is nothing to be gained by the conviction of a 
 prisoner, justice, even in Spain, is apt to be impartial. The 
 alcalde, having recovered from his disappointment, and found 
 that there was really no booty in the case, now listened dispas 
 sionately to the explanation of the water-carrier, which was 
 corroborated by the testimony of his wife. Being convinced, 
 therefore, of his innocence, he discharged him from arrest ; nay 
 more, he permitted him to carry off the Moor s legacy, the box 
 of sandal-wood and its contents, as the well-merited reward of 
 his humanity ; but he retained his donkey in payment of costs 
 and charges. 
 
 Behold the unfortunate little Gallego reduced once more to the 
 necessity of being his own water-carrier, and trudging up to the 
 well of the Alhambra with a great earthen jar upon his shoulder. 
 
 As he toiled up the hill in the heat of a summer noon, his 
 usual good-humor forsook him. " Dog of an alcalde ! " would 
 he cry, " to rob a poor man of the means of his subsistence, of 
 the best friend he had in the world ! " And then at the re 
 membrance of the beloved companion of his labors, all the 
 kindness of his nature would break forth. "Ah, donkey of 
 my heart ! " would he exclaim, resting his burden on a stone, 
 . and wiping the sweat from his brow, " ah, donkey of my 
 heart ! I warrant me thou thinkest of thy qld master ! I 
 warrant me thou missest the water-jars poor beast." 
 
210 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 To add to his afflictions, his wife received him, on his return 
 home, with whimperings and repinings ; she had clearly the 
 vantage-ground of him, having warned him not to commit the 
 egregious act of hospitality which had brought on him all these 
 misfortunes ; and, like a knowing woman, she took every 
 occasion to throw her superior sagacity in his teeth. If her 
 children lacked food, or needed a new garment, she could answer 
 with a sneer, "Go to your father he is heir to king Chico of 
 the Alhambra : ask him to help you out of the Moor s strong 
 box." 
 
 Was ever poor mortal so soundly punished for having done a 
 good action ? The unlucky Peregil was grieved in flesh and 
 spirit, but still he bore meekly with the railings of his spouse. 
 At length, one evening, when, after a hot day s toil, she taunted 
 him in the usual manner, he lost all patience. He did not 
 venture to retort upon her, but his eye rested upon the box of 
 sandal-wood, which lay on the shelf with lid half open, as if 
 laughing in mockery at his vexation. Seizing it up, he dashed 
 it with indignation to the floor. " Unlucky was the day that 
 I ever set eyes on thee," he cried, "or sheltered thy master 
 beneath my roof ! " 
 
 As the box struck the floor, the lid flew wide open, and the 
 parchment scroll rolled forth. 
 
 Peregil sat regarding the scroll for some time in moody 
 silence. At length rallying his ideas, "Who knows," thought 
 he, " but this writing may be of some importance, as the Moor 
 seems to have guarded it with such care ? " Picking it up 
 therefore, he put it in his bosom, and the next morning, as he 
 was crying water through the streets, he stopped at the shop 
 of a Moor, a native of Tangiers, who sold trinkets and perfum 
 ery in the Zacatin, and asked him to explain the contents. 
 
 The Moor read the scroll attentively, then stroked his beard . 
 and smiled. " This manuscript," said he, "is a form of incanta 
 tion for the recovery of hidden treasure that is under the power 
 
PEREGIL AND THE MOOR 211 
 
 of enchantment. It is said to have such virtue that the strong 
 est bolts and bars, nay the adamantine rock itself, will yield 
 before it ! " 
 
 "Bah ! " cried the little Gallego, "what is all that to me? 
 I am no enchanter, and know nothing of buried treasure." So 
 saying, he shouldered his water-jar, left the scroll in the hands 
 of the Moor, and trudged forward on his daily rounds. 
 
 That evening, however, as he rested himself about twilight at 
 the well of the Alhambra, he found a number of gossips assem 
 bled at the place, and their conversation, as is not unusual at that 
 shadowy hour, turned upon old tales and traditions of a super 
 natural nature. Being all poor as rats, they dwelt with pecul 
 iar fondness upon the popular theme of enchanted riches left 
 by the Moors in various parts of the Alhambra. Above all, 
 they concurred in the belief that there were great treasures 
 buried deep in the earth under the tower of the seven floors. 
 
 These stories made an unusual impression on the mind of the 
 honest Peregil, and they sank deeper and deeper into his thoughts 
 as he returned alone down the darkling avenues. " If, after all, 
 there should be treasure hid beneath that tower; and if the 
 scroll I left with the Moor should enable me to get at it ! " In 
 the sudden ecstasy of the thought he had wellnigh let fall his 
 water-jar. 
 
 That night he tumbled and tossed, and could scarcely get a 
 wink of sleep for the thoughts that were bewildering his brain. 
 Bright and early he repaired to the shop of the Moor, and told 
 him all that was passing in his mind. "You can read Arabic," 
 said he; "suppose we go together to the tower, and try the 
 effect of the charm ; if it fails, we are no worse off than before ; 
 but if it succeeds, we will share equally all the treasure we may 
 discover." 
 
 " Hold," replied the Moslem ; " this writing is not sufficient 
 of itself ; it must be read at midnight, by the light of a taper 
 singularly compounded and prepared, the ingredients of .which 
 
212 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 are not within my reach. Without such a taper the scroll is of 
 no avail." 
 
 "Say no more ! " cried the little Gallego ; " I have such a 
 taper at hand, and will bring it here in a moment." So say 
 ing, he hastened home, and soon returned with the end of 
 yellow wax taper that he had found in the box of sandal- 
 wood. 
 
 The Moor felt it and smelt to it. " Here are rare and costly 
 perfumes," said he, " combined with this yellow wax. This is 
 the kind of taper specified in the scroll. While this burns, the 
 strongest walls and most secret caverns will remain open. Woe 
 to him, however, who lingers within until it be extinguished. 
 He will remain enchanted with the treasure." 
 
 It was now agreed between them to try the charm that very 
 night. At a late hour, therefore, when nothing was stirring 
 but bats and owls, they ascended the woody hill of the Alham- 
 bra, and approached that awful tower, shrouded by trees and 
 rendered formidable by so many traditionary tales. By the 
 light of a lantern they groped their way through bushes, and 
 over fallen stones, to the door of a vault beneath the tower. 
 With fear and trembling they descended a flight of steps cut 
 into the rock. It led to an empty chamber, damp and drear, 
 from which another flight of steps led to a deeper vault. In 
 this way they descended four several flights, leading into as 
 many vaults, one below the other, but the floor of the fourth 
 was solid ; and though, according to tradition, there remained 
 three vaults still below, it was said to be impossible to pene 
 trate further, the residue being shut up by strong enchant 
 ment. The air of this vault was damp and chilly, and had an 
 earthy smell, and the light scarce cast forth any rays. They 
 paused here for a time, in breathless suspense, until they faintly 
 heard the clock of the watch-tower strike midnight ; upon this 
 they lit the waxen taper, which diffused an odor of myrrh and 
 frankincense and storax. 
 

 THE INCANTATION 213 
 
 The Moor began to read in a hurried voice. He had scarce 
 finished when there was a noise as of subterraneous thunder. 
 The earth shook, and the floor, yawning open, disclosed a flight 
 of steps. Trembling with awe, they descended, and by the 
 light of the lantern found themselves in another vault covered 
 with Arabic inscriptions. In the centre stood a great chest, 
 secured with seven bands of steel, at each end of which sat an 
 enchanted Moor in armor, but motionless as a statue, being 
 controlled by the power of the incantation. Before the chest 
 were several jars filled with gold and silver and precious stones. 
 In the largest of these they thrust their arms up to the elbow, 
 and at every dip hauled forth handfuls of broad yellow pieces 
 of Moorish gold, or bracelets and ornaments of the same pre 
 cious metal, while occasionally a necklace of Oriental pearl 
 would stick to their fingers. Still they trembled and breathed, 
 short while cramming their pockets with the spoils ; and cast 
 many a fearful glance at the two enchanted Moors, who sat 
 grim and motionless, glaring upon them with unwinking eyes. 
 At length, struck with a sudden panic at some fancied noise, 
 they both rushed up the staircase, tumbled over one another 
 into the upper apartment, overturned and extinguished the 
 waxen taper, and the pavement again closed with a thunde ring 
 sound. 
 
 Filled with dismay, they did not pause until they had groped 
 their way out of the tower, and beheld the stars shining through 
 the trees. Then seating themselves upon the grass, they di 
 vided the spoil, determining to content themselves for the 
 present with this mere skimming of the jars, but to return on 
 some future night and drain them to the bottom. To make 
 sure of each other s good faith, also, they divided the talismans 
 between them, one retaining the scroll and the other the taper ; 
 this done, they set off with light hearts and well-lined pockets 
 for Granada. 
 
 As they wended their way down the hill, the shrewd Moor 
 
214 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 whispered a word of counsel in the ear of the simple little 
 water-carrier. 
 
 "Friend Peregil," said he, "all this affair must be kept a 
 profound secret until we have secured the treasure, and con 
 veyed it out of harm s way. If a whisper of it gets to the ear 
 of the alcalde, we are undone ! " 
 
 "Certainly," replied the Gallego, "nothing can be more 
 true." 
 
 " Friend Peregil," said the Moor, " you are a discreet man, 
 and I make no doubt can keep a secret ; but you have a 
 wife." 
 
 "She shall not know a word of it," replied the little water- 
 carrier, sturdily. 
 
 " Enough," said the Moor, " I depend upon thy discretion 
 and thy promise." 
 
 Never was promise more positive and sincere ; but, alas ! 
 what man can keep a secret from his wife 1 Certainly not 
 such a one as Peregil the water-carrier, who was one of the 
 most loving and tractable of husbands. On his return home 
 he found his wife moping in a corner. " Mighty well," cried 
 she as he entered, " you ve come at last, after rambling about 
 until this hour of the night. I wonder you have not brought 
 home another Moor as a house-mate." Then bursting into 
 tears, she began to wring her hands and smite her breast, 
 " Unhappy woman that I am ! " exclaimed she, " what will 
 become of me ? My house stripped and plundered by lawyers 
 and alguazils ; my husband a do-no-good, that no longer brings 
 home bread to his family, but goes rambling about day and 
 night, with infidel Moors ! my children ! my children ! what 
 will become of us ? We shall all have to beg in the streets ! " 
 
 Honest Peregil was so moved by the distress of his spouse, 
 that he could not help whimpering also. His heart was as full 
 as his pocket, and not to be restrained. Thrusting his hand 
 into the latter he hauled forth three or four broad gold piece*, 
 
 
A DISCREET HUSBAND 215 
 
 and slipped them into her bosom. The poor woman stared with 
 astonishment, and could not understand the meaning of this 
 golden shower. Before she could recover her surprise, the 
 little Gallego drew forth a chain of gold and dangled it before 
 her, capering with exultation, his mouth distended from ear to 
 ear. 
 
 "Holy Virgin protect us!" exclaimed the wife. "What 
 hast thou been doing, Peregil 1 Surely thou hast not been com 
 mitting murder and robbery ! " 
 
 The idea scarce entered the brain of the poor woman, than it 
 became a certainty with her. She saw a prison and a gallows 
 in the distance, and a little bandy-legged Gallego hanging pen 
 dent from it; and, overcome by the horrors conjured up by 
 imagination, fell into violent hysterics. 
 
 What could the poor man do ? He had no other means of 
 pacifying his wife, and dispelling the phantoms of her fancy, 
 than by relating the whole story of his good fortune. This, 
 however, he did not do until he had exacted from her the most 
 solemn promise to keep it a profound secret from every living 
 being. 
 
 To describe her joy would be impossible. She flung her arms 
 round the neck of her husband, and almost strangled him with 
 her caresses. "Now, wife," exclaimed the little man with hon 
 est exultation, "what say you now to the Moor s legacy? Hence 
 forth never abuse me for helping a fellow-creature in distress." 
 
 The honest Gallego retired to his sheep-skin mat, and slept 
 as soundly as if on a bed of down. Not so his wife; she 
 emptied the whole contents of his pockets upon the mat, and 
 sat counting gold pieces of Arabic coin, trying on necklaces and 
 earrings, and fancying the figure she should one day make when 
 permitted to enjoy her riches. 
 
 On the following morning the honest Gallego took a broad 
 golden coin, and repaired with it to a jeweller s shop in the 
 Zacatin to offer it for sale, pretending to have found it among 
 
216 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the ruins of the Alhambra. The jeweller saw that it had an 
 Arabic inscription, and was of the purest gold ; he offered, how 
 ever, but a third of its value, with which the water-carrier was 
 perfectly content. Peregil now bought new clothes for his little 
 flock, and all kinds of toys, together with ample provisions for 
 a hearty meal, and returning to his dwelling, set all his children 
 dancing around him, while he capered in the midst, the happiest 
 of fathers. 
 
 The wife of the water-carrier kept her promise of secrecy 
 with surprising strictness. For a whole day and a half she 
 went about with a look of mystery and a heart swelling almost 
 to bursting, yet she held her peace, though surrounded by her 
 gossips. It is true, she could not help giving herself a few airs, 
 apologized for her ragged dress, and talked of ordering a new 
 basquina all trimmed with gold lace and bugles, and a new lace 
 mantilla. She threw out hints of her husband s intention of 
 leaving off his trade of water-carrying, as it did not altogether 
 agree with his health. In fact she thought they should all re 
 tire to the country for the summer, that the children might 
 have the benefit of the mountain air, for there was no living 
 in the city in this sultry season. 
 
 The neighbors stared at each other, and thought the poor 
 woman had lost her wits ; and her airs and graces and elegant 
 pretensions were the theme of universal scoffing and merriment 
 among her friends, the moment her back was turned. 
 
 If she restrained herself abroad, however, she indemnified 
 herself at home, and putting a string of rich Oriental pearls 
 round her neck, Moorish bracelets on her arms, and an aigrette 
 of diamonds on her head, sailed backwards and forwards in her 
 slattern rags about the room, now and then stopping to admire 
 herself in a broken mirror. Nay, in the impulse of her simple 
 vanity, she could not resist, on one occasion, showing herself at 
 the window to enjoy the effect of her finery on the passers-by. 
 
 As the fates would have it, Pedrillo Pedrugo, the meddlesome 
 
THE SECRET BLOWN 217 
 
 barber, was at this moment sitting idly in his shop on the oppo 
 site side of the street, when his ever- watchful eye caught the 
 sparkle of a diamond. In an instant he was at his loophole 
 reconnoitring the slattern spouse of the water-carrier, decorated 
 with the splendor of an eastern bride. No sooner had he taken 
 an accurate inventory of her ornaments, than he posted off with 
 all speed to the alcalde. In a little while the hungry alguazil 
 was again on the scent, and before the day was over the unfortu 
 nate Peregil was once more dragged into the presence of the 
 judge. 
 
 " How is this, villain ! " cried the alcalde, in a furious voice. 
 " You told me that the infidel who died in your house left noth 
 ing behind but an empty coffer, and now I hear of your wife 
 flaunting in her rags decked out with pearls and diamonds. 
 Wretch that thou art ! prepare to render up the spoils of thy 
 miserable victim, and to swing on the gallows that is already 
 tired of waiting for thee." 
 
 The terrified water-carrier fell on his knees, and made a full 
 relation of the marvellous manner in which he had gained his 
 wealth. The alcalde, the alguazil, and the inquisitive barber 
 listened with greedy ears to this Arabian tale of enchanted treas 
 ure. The alguazil was dispatched to bring the Moor who had 
 assisted in the incantation. The Moslem entered half fright 
 ened out of his wits at finding himself in the hands of the 
 harpies of the law. When he beheld the water-carrier stand 
 ing with sheepish looks and downcast countenance, he compre 
 hended the whole matter. "Miserable animal," said he, as he 
 passed near him, "did I not warn thee against babbling to thy 
 wife?" 
 
 The story of the Moor coincided exactly with that of his col 
 league ; but the alcalde affected to be slow of belief, and threw 
 out menaces of imprisonment and rigorous investigation. 
 
 "Softly, good Senor Alcalde," said the Mussulman, who by 
 this time had recovered his usual shrewdness and self-possession. 
 
218 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 "Let us not mar fortune s favors in the scramble for them. 
 Nobody knows anything of this matter but ourselves ; let us 
 keep the secret. There is wealth enough in the cave to enrich 
 us all. Promise a fair division, and all shall be produced ; re 
 fuse, and the cave shall remain forever closed." 
 
 The alcalde consulted apart with the alguazil. The latter 
 was an old fox in his profession. "Promise anything," said he, 
 "until you get possession of the treasure. You may then seize 
 upon the whole, and if he and his accomplice dare to murmur, 
 threaten them with the fagot and the stake as infidels and 
 sorcerers." 
 
 The alcalde relished the advice. Smoothing his brow and 
 turning to the Moor, "This is a strange story," said he, " and 
 may be true, but I must have ocular proof of it. This very 
 night you must repeat the incantation in my presence. If there 
 be really such treasure, we will share it amicably between us, 
 and say nothing further of the matter ; if ye have deceived me, 
 expect no mercy at my hands. In the meantime you must 
 remain in custody." 
 
 The Moor and the water-carrier cheerfully agreed to these 
 conditions, satisfied that the event would prove the truth of 
 their words. 
 
 Towards midnight the alcalde sallied forth secretly, attended 
 by the alguazil and the meddlesome barber, all strongly armed. 
 They conducted the Moor and the water-carrier as prisoners, 
 and were provided with the stout donkey of the latter to bear 
 off the expected treasure. They arrived at the tower without 
 being observed, and tying the donkey to a fig-tree, descended 
 into the fourth vault of the tower. 
 
 The scroll was produced, the yellow waxen taper lighted, and 
 the Moor read the form of incantation. The earth trembled as 
 before, and the pavement opened with a thundering sound, dis 
 closing the narrow flight of steps. The alcalde, the alguazil, 
 and the barber were struck aghast, and could not summon cour- 
 
THE TREASURE 219 
 
 age to descend. The Moor and the water-carrier entered the 
 lower vault, and found the two Moors seated as before, silent 
 and motionless. They removed two of the great jars, filled 
 with golden coin and precious stones. The water-carrier bore 
 them up one by one upon his shoulders, but though a strong- 
 backed little man, and accustomed to carry burdens, he stag 
 gered beneath their weight, and found, when slung on each side 
 of his donkey, they were as much as the animal could bear. 
 
 "Let us be content for the present," said the Moor; "here 
 is as much treasure as we can carry off without being perceived, 
 and enough to make us all wealthy to our heart s desire." 
 
 " Is there more treasure remaining behind 1 " demanded the 
 alcalde. 
 
 "The greatest prize of all," said the Moor, "a huge coffer 
 bound with bauds of steel, and filled with pearls and precious 
 stones." 
 
 "Let us have up the coffer by all means," cried the grasping 
 alcalde. 
 
 "I will descend for no more," said the Moor, doggedly; 
 " enough is enough for a reasonable man more is super 
 fluous." 
 
 "And I," said the water-carrier, "will bring up no further 
 burden to break the back of my poor donkey." 
 
 Finding commands, threats, and entreaties equally vain, the 
 alcalde turned to his two adherents. "Aid me," said he, "to 
 bring up the coffer, and its contents shall be divided between 
 us." So saying, he descended the steps, followed with trem 
 bling reluctance by the alguazil and the barber. 
 
 No sooner did the Moor behold them fairly earthed than he 
 extinguished the yellow taper; the pavement closed with its 
 usual crash, and the three worthies remained buried in its womb. 
 
 He then hastened up the different flight of steps, nor stopped 
 until in the open air. The little water-carrier followed him as 
 fast as his short legs would permit. 
 
220 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 "What hast thou done?" cried Peregil, as soon as he could 
 recover breath. " The alcalde and the other two are shut up 
 in the vault." 
 
 "It is the will of Allah ! " said the Moor, devoutly. 
 
 "And will you not release them 1 ?" demanded the Gallego. 
 
 " Allah forbid ! " replied the Moor, smoothing his beard. 
 " It is written in the book of fate that they shall remain en 
 chanted until some future adventurer arrive to break the charm. 
 The will of God be done ! " So saying, he hurled the end of the 
 waxen taper far among the gloomy thickets of the glen. 
 
 There was now no remedy; so the Moor and the water-carrier 
 proceeded with the richly laden donkey towards the city, nor 
 could honest Peregil refrain from hugging and kissing his long- 
 eared fellow-laborer, thus restored to him from the clutches of 
 the law; and, in fact, it is doubtful which gave the simple- 
 hearted little man most joy at the moment, the gaining of the 
 treasure, or the recovery of the donkey. 
 
 The two partners in good luck divided their spoil amicably 
 and fairly, except that the Moor, who had a little taste for 
 trinketry, made out to get into his heap the most of the pearls 
 and precious stones and other baubles, but then he always gave 
 the water-carrier in lieu magnificent jewels of massy gold, of 
 five times the size, with which the latter was heartily content. 
 They took care not to linger within reach of accidents, but 
 made off to enjoy their wealth undisturbed in other countries. 
 The Moor returned to Africa, to his native city of Tangiers, and 
 the Gallego, with his wife, his children, and his donkey, made the 
 best of his way to Portugal. Here, under the admonition 
 and tuition of his wife, he became a personage of some conse 
 quence, for she made the worthy little man array his long body 
 and short legs in doublet and hose, with a feather in his hat 
 and a sword by his side, and laying aside his familiar appellation 
 of Peregil, assume the more sonorous title of Don Pedro Gil; 
 his progeny grew up a thriving and merry-hearted, though short 
 
THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS 221 
 
 and bandy-legged generation, while Senora Gil, befringed, be- 
 laced, and betasselled from her head to her heels, with glittering 
 rings on every finger, became a model of slattern fashion and 
 finery. 
 
 As to the alcalde and his adjuncts, they remained shut up 
 under the great tower of the seven floors, and there they remain 
 spellbound at the present day. Whenever there shall be a lack 
 in Spain of pimping barbers, sharking alguazils, and corrupt 
 alcaldes, they may be sought after; but if they have to wait 
 until such time for their deliverance, there is danger of their 
 enchantment enduring until doomsday. 
 
 THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS 
 
 IN an evening s stroll up a narrow glen, overshadowed by fig- 
 trees, pomegranates, and myrtles, which divides the lands of the 
 fortress from those of the Generalife, I was struck with the ro 
 mantic appearance of a Moorish tower in the outer wall of the 
 Alhambra, rising high above the tree-tops, and catching the 
 ruddy rays of the setting sun. A solitary window at a great 
 height commanded a view of the glen ; and as I was regarding 
 it, a young female looked out, with her head adorned with flow 
 ers. She was evidently superior to the usual class of people 
 inhabiting the old towers of the fortress; and this sudden 
 and picturesque glimpse of her reminded me of the descriptions 
 of captive beauties in fairy tales. These fanciful associations 
 were increased on being informed by my attendant Mateo, that 
 this was the Tower of the Princesses (La Torre de las Infantas) ; 
 so called, from having been, according to tradition, the residence 
 of the daughters of the Moorish kings. I have since visited the 
 tower. It is not generally shown to strangers, though well 
 worthy of attention, for the interior is equal, for beauty of 
 architecture and delicacy of ornament, to any part of the pal- 
 
222 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 ace. The elegance of the central hall, with its marble fountain, 
 its lofty arches, and richly fretted dome ; the arabesques and 
 stucco-work of the small but well-proportioned chambers, though 
 injured by time and neglect, all accord with the story of its be 
 ing anciently the abode of royal beauty. 
 
 The little old fairy queen who lives under the staircase of 
 the Alhambra, and frequents the evening tertulias of Dame An 
 tonio, tells some fanciful traditions about three Moorish prin 
 cesses who were once shut up in this tower by their father, a 
 tyrant king of Granada, and were only permitted to ride out at 
 night about the hills, when no one was permitted to come in 
 their way under the pain of death. They, still, according to 
 her account, may be seen occasionally when the moon is in the 
 full, riding in lonely places along the mountain-side, on palfreys 
 richly caparisoned and sparkling with jewels, but they vanish 
 on being spoken to. 
 
 But before I relate anything further respecting these prin 
 cesses, the reader may be anxious to know something about the 
 fair inhabitant of the tower, with her head dressed with flowers, 
 who looked out from the lofty window. She proved to be the 
 newly married spouse of the worthy adjutant of invalids ; who, 
 though well stricken in years, had had the courage to take to 
 his bosom a young and buxom Andalusian damsel. May the 
 good old cavalier be happy in his choice, and find the Tower of 
 the Princesses a more secure residence for female beauty than 
 it seems to have proved in the time of the Moslems, if we may 
 believe the following legend ! 
 
 LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL 
 PRINCESSES 
 
 IN old times there reigned a Moorish king in Granada, whose 
 name was Mohamed, to which his subjects added the appellation 
 
LEGEND OF THE THREE PRINCESSES 223 
 
 of El Hayzari, or " The Left-handed." Some say he was so 
 called on account of his being really more expert with his sinis 
 ter than his dexter hand ; others, because he was prone to take 
 everything by the wrong end, or, in other words, to mar where- 
 ever he meddled. Certain it is, either through misfortune or 
 mismanagement, he was continually in trouble : thrice was he 
 driven from his throne, and on one occasion barely escaped to 
 Africa with his life, in the disguise of a fisherman. 1 Still he 
 was as brave as he was blundering ; and though left-handed, 
 wielded his cimeter to such purpose, that he each time reestab 
 lished himself upon his throne by dint of hard fighting. Instead, 
 however, of learning wisdom from adversity, he hardened his 
 neck, and stiffened his left arm in wilfulness. The evils of a pub 
 lic nature which he thus brought upon himself and his kingdom 
 may be learned by those who will delve into the Arabian annals 
 of Granada; the present legend deals but with his domestic policy. 
 
 As this Mohamed was one day riding forth with a train of 
 his courtiers, by the foot of the mountain of Elvira he met a 
 band of horsemen returning from a foray into the land of the 
 Christians. They were conducting a long string of mules laden 
 with spoil, and many captives of both sexes, among whom the 
 monarch was struck with the appearance of a beautiful damsel, 
 richly attired, who sat weeping on a low palfrey, and heeded 
 not the consoling words of a duenna who rode beside her. 
 
 The monarch was struck with her beauty, and, on inquiring 
 of the captain of the troop, found that she was the daughter of 
 the alcayde of a frontier fortress, that had been surprised and 
 sacked in the course of the foray. Mohamed claimed her as his 
 royal share of the booty, and had her conveyed to his harem in 
 the Alhambra. There everything was devised to soothe- her 
 melancholy ; and the monarch, more and more enamored, sought 
 to make her his queen. The Spanish maid at first repulsed his 
 addresses : he was an infidel ; he was the open foe of her coun 
 try ; what was worse, he was stricken in years ! 
 
224 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The monarch, finding his assiduities of no avail, determined 
 to enlist in his favor the duenna, who had been captured with 
 the lady. She was an Andalusian by birth, whose Christian 
 name is forgotten, being mentioned in Moorish legend by no 
 other appellation than that of the discreet Kadiga ; and discreet 
 in truth she was, as her whole history makes evident. No 
 sooner had the Moorish king held a little private conversation 
 with her, than she saw at once the cogency of his reasoning, 
 and undertook his cause with her younglnistress. 
 
 " Go to, now ! " cried she ; " what is there in all this to 
 weep and wail about ? Is it not better to be mistress of this 
 beautiful palace, with all its gardens and fountains, than to be 
 shut up within your father s old frontier tower? As to this 
 Mohamed being an infidel, what is that to the purpose 1 You 
 marry him, not his religion ; and if he is waxing a little old, 
 the sooner will you be a widow, and mistress of yourself; at 
 any rate, you are in his power, and must either be a queen or 
 a slave. When in the hands of a robber, it is better to sell 
 one s merchandise for a fair price, than to have it taken by 
 main force." 
 
 The arguments of the discreet Kadiga prevailed. The Span 
 ish lady dried her tears, and became the spouse of Mohamed 
 the Left-handed ; she even conformed, in appearance, to the 
 faith of her royal husband ; and her discreet duenna immedi 
 ately became a zealous convert to the Moslem doctrines : it 
 was then the latter received the Arabian name of Kadiga, and 
 was permitted to remain in the confidential employ of her 
 mistress. 
 
 In due process of time the Moorish king was made the proud 
 and happy father of three lovely daughters, all born at a birth : 
 he could have wished they had been sons, but consoled himself 
 with the idea that three daughters at a birth were pretty well 
 for a man somewhat stricken in years, and left-handed ! 
 
 As usual with all Moslem monarchs, he summoned his astrolo- 
 
THE DISCREET KADIGA 225 
 
 gers on this happy event. They cast the nativities of the three 
 princesses, and shook their heads. " Daughters, king ! " said 
 they, "are always precarious property; but these will most 
 need your watchfulness when they arrive at a marriageable age ; 
 at that time gather them under your wings, and trust them to 
 no other guardianship." 
 
 Mohamed the Left-handed was acknowledged to be a wise 
 king by his courtiers, and was certainly so considered by him 
 self. The prediction of the astrologers caused him but little 
 disquiet, trusting to his ingenuity to guard his daughters and 
 outwit the Fates. 
 
 The threefold birth was the last matrimonial trophy of the 
 monarch ; his queen bore him no more children, and died within 
 a few years, bequeathing her infant daughters to his love, and 
 to the fidelity of the discreet Kadiga. 
 
 Many years had yet to elapse before the princesses would 
 arrive at that period of danger the marriageable age. "It 
 is good, however, to be cautious in time," said the shrewd 
 monarch ; so he determined to have them reared in the royal 
 castle of Salobrena. This was a sumptuous palace, incrusted, 
 as it were, in a powerful Moorish fortress on the summit of a 
 hill overlooking the Mediterranean sea. It was a royal retreat, 
 in which the Moslem monarchs shut up such of their relatives 
 as might endanger their safety ; allowing them all kinds of 
 luxuries and amusements, in the midst of which they passed 
 their lives in voluptuous indolence. 
 
 Here the princesses remained, immured from the world, but 
 surrounded by enjoyment, and attended by female slaves who 
 anticipated their wishes. They had delightful gardens for their 
 recreation, filled with the rarest fruits and flowers, with an> 
 matic groves and perfumed baths. On three sides the castle 
 looked down upon a rich valley, enamelled with all kinds of 
 culture, and bounded by the lofty Alpuxarra mountains; on 
 the other side it overlooked the broad sunny sea. 
 
226 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 In this delicious abode, in a propitious climate, and under a 
 cloudless sky, the three princesses grew up into wondrous 
 beauty ; but, though all reared alike, they gave early tokens of 
 diversity of character. Their names were Zayda, Zorayda, and 
 Zorahayda ; and such was their order of seniority, for there had 
 been precisely three minutes between their births. 
 
 Zayda, the eldest, was of an intrepid spirit, and took the 
 lead of her sisters in everything, as she had done in entering 
 into the world. She was curious and inquisitive, and fond of 
 getting at the bottom of things. 
 
 Zorayda had a great feeling for beauty, which was the reason, 
 no doubt, of her delighting to regard her own image in a mirror 
 or a fountain, and of her fondness for flowers, and jewels, and 
 other tasteful ornaments. 
 
 As to Zorahayda, the youngest, she was soft and timid, and 
 extremely sensitive, with a vast deal of disposable tenderness, 
 as was evident from her number of pet-flowers, and pet-birds, 
 and pet-animals, all of which she cherished with the fondest 
 care. Her amusements, too, were of a gentle nature, and 
 mixed up with musing and reverie. She would sit for hours 
 in a balcony, gazing on the sparkling stars of a summer s night, 
 or on the sea when lit up by the moon ; and at such times, the 
 song of a fisherman, faintly heard from the beach, or the notes 
 of a Moorish flute from some gliding bark, sufficed to elevate 
 her feelings into ecstasy. The least uproar of the elements, 
 however, filled her with dismay; and a clap of thunder was 
 enough to throw her into a swoon. 
 
 Years rolled on smoothly and serenely ; the discreet Kadiga, 
 to whom the princesses were confided, was faithful to her trust, 
 and attended them with unremitting care. 
 
 The castle of Salobrena, as has been said, was built upon a 
 hill on the sea-coast. One of the exterior walls straggled down 
 the profile of the hill, until it reached a jutting rock overhang 
 ing the sea, with a narrow sandy beach at its foot, laved by 
 
THE THREE CAVALIERS 227 
 
 the rippling billows. A small watch-tower on this rock had 
 been fitted up as a pavilion, with latticed windows to admit 
 the sea-breeze. Here the princesses used to pass the sultry 
 hours of mid-day. 
 
 The curious Zayda was one day seated at a window of the 
 pavilion, as her sisters, reclining on ottomans, were taking the 
 siesta or noontide slumber. Her attention was attracted to a 
 galley which came coasting along, with measured strokes of 
 the oar. As it drew near, she observed that it was filled with 
 armed men. The galley anchored at the foot of the tower : a 
 number of Moorish soldiers landed on the narrow beach, con 
 ducting several Christian prisoners. The curious Zayda awak 
 ened her sisters, and all three peeped cautiously through the 
 close jalousies of the lattice which screened them from sight. 
 Among the prisoners were three Spanish cavaliers, richly dressed. 
 They were in the flower of youth, and of noble presence ; and 
 the lofty manner in which they carried themselves, though 
 loaded with chains and surrounded with enemies, bespoke the 
 grandeur of their souls. The princesses gazed with intense 
 and breathless interest. Cooped up as they had been in this 
 castle among female attendants, seeing nothing of the male sex 
 but black slaves, or the rude fisherman of the sea-coast, it is not 
 to be wondered at that the appearance of three gallant cav 
 aliers, in the pride of youth and manly beauty, should produce 
 some commotion in their bosom. 
 
 " Did ever nobler being tread the earth than that cavalier 
 in crimson?" cried .Zayda, the eldest of the sisters. "See 
 how proudly he bears himself, as though all around him were 
 his slaves ! " 
 
 " But notice that one in green ! " exclaimed Zorayda. " What 
 grace ! what elegance ! what spirit ! " 
 
 The gentle Zorahayda said nothing, but she secretly gave 
 preference to the cavalier in blue. 
 
 The princesses remained gazing until the prisoners were out 
 
228 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 of sight, .then heaving long-drawn sighs, they turned round, 
 looked at each other for a moment, and sat down, musing and 
 pensive, on their ottomans. 
 
 The discreet Kadiga found them in this situation ; they 
 related what they had seen, and even the withered heart of 
 the duenna was warmed. " Poor youths !" exclaimed she, " I ll 
 warrant their captivity makes many a fair and high-born lady s 
 heart ache in their native land ! Ah ! my children, you have 
 little idea of the life these cavaliers lead in their own country. 
 Such prankling at tournaments ! such devotion to the ladies ! 
 such courting and serenading ! " 
 
 The curiosity of Zayda was fully aroused ; she was insatiable 
 in her inquiries, and drew from the duenna the most ani 
 mated pictures of the scenes of her youthful days and native 
 land. The beautiful Zorayda bridled up, and slyly regarded 
 herself in a mirror, when the theme turned upon the charms of 
 the Spanish ladies ; while Zorahayda suppressed a struggling 
 sigh at the mention of moonlight serenades. 
 
 Every day the curious Zayda renewed her inquiries, and 
 every day the sage duenna repeated her stories, which were 
 listened to with profound interest, though with frequent sighs, 
 by her gentle auditors. The discreet old woman awoke at 
 length to the mischief she might be doing. She had been 
 accustomed to think of the princesses only as children ; but 
 they had imperceptibly ripened beneath her eye, and now 
 bloomed before her three lovely damsels of the marriageable 
 age. It is time, thought the duenna, to give notice to the king. 
 
 Mohamed the Left-handed was seated one morning on a 
 divan in a cool hall of the Alhambra, when a slave arrived 
 from the fortress of Salobrena, with a message from the sage 
 Kadiga, congratulating him on the anniversary of his daughters 
 birth -day. The slave at the same time presented a delicate 
 little basket decorated with flowers, within which, on a couch 
 of vine and fig-leaves, lay a peach, an apricot, and a nectarine, 
 
THE EMBLEMATICAL OFFERING 229 
 
 with their bloom and down and dewy sweetness upon them, 
 and all in the early stage of tempting ripeness. The monarch 
 was versed in the Oriental language of fruits and flowers, and 
 rapidly divined the meaning of this emblematical offering. 
 
 "So," said he, "the critical period pointed out by the 
 astrologers is arrived : my daughters are at a marriageable 
 age. What is to be done? They are shut up from the eyes 
 of men ; they are under the eyes of the discreet Kadiga, all 
 very good, but still they are not under my own eye, as was 
 prescribed by the astrologers : I must gather them under my 
 wing, and trust to no other guardianship." 
 
 So saying, he ordered that a tower of the Alhambra should 
 be prepared for their reception, and departed at the head of his 
 guards for the fortress of Salobrena, to conduct them home in 
 person. 
 
 About three years had elapsed since Mohamed had beheld 
 his daughters, and he could scarcely credit his eyes at the 
 wonderful change which that small space of time had made 
 in their appearance. During the interval, they had passed 
 that wondrous boundary line in female life which separates the 
 crude, unformed, and thoughtless girl from the blooming, blush 
 ing meditative woman. It is like passing from the flat, 
 bleak, uninteresting plains of La Mancha to the voluptuous 
 valleys and swelling hills of Andalusia. 
 
 Zayda was tall and finely formed, with a lofty demeanor 
 and a penetrating eye. She entered with a stately and de 
 cided* step, and made a profound reverence to Mohamed, treat 
 ing him more as her sovereign than her father. Zorayda was 
 of the middle height, with an alluring look and swimming gait, 
 and a sparkling beauty, heightened by the assistance of the 
 toilette. She approached her father with a smile, kissed his 
 hand, and saluted him with several stanzas from a popular 
 Arabian poet, with which the monarch was delighted. Zora- 
 hayda was shy and timid, smaller than her sisters, and with a 
 
230 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 beauty of that tender beseeching kind which looks for fondness 
 and protection. She was little fitted to command, like her 
 elder sister, or to dazzle like the second, but was rather formed 
 to creep to the bosom of manly affection, to nestle within it, 
 and be content. She drew near to her father, with a timid 
 and almost faltering step, and would have taken his hand to 
 kiss, but on looking up into his face, and seeing it beaming 
 with a paternal smile, the tenderness of her nature broke forth, 
 and she threw herself upon his neck. 
 
 Mohamed the Left-handed surveyed his blooming daughters 
 with mingled pride and perplexity, for while he exulted in their 
 charms, he bethought himself of the prediction of the astrologers. 
 "Three daughters! three daughters!" muttered he repeatedly 
 to himself, " and all of a marriageable age ! Here s tempting 
 Hesperian fruit, that requires a dragon watch ! " 
 
 He prepared for his return to Granada, by sending heralds 
 before him, commanding every one to keep out of the road by 
 which he was to pass, and that all doors and windows should 
 be closed at the approach of the princesses. This done, he set 
 forth, escorted by a troop of black horsemen of hideous aspect, 
 and clad in shining armor. 
 
 The princesses rode beside the king, closely veiled, on beauti 
 ful white palfreys, with velvet caparisons, embroidered with gold, 
 and sweeping the ground ; the bits and stirrups were of gold, 
 and the silken bridles adorned with pearls and precious stones. 
 The palfreys were covered with little silver bells, which made 
 the most musical tinkling as they ambled gently along. Woe 
 to the unlucky wight, however, who lingered in the way when 
 he heard the tinkling of these bells ! the guards were ordered 
 to cut him down without mercy. 
 
 The cavalcade was drawing near to Granada, when it over 
 took, on the banks of the river Xenil, a small body of Moorish 
 soldiers with a convoy of prisoners. It was too late for the 
 soldiers to get out of the way, so they threw themselves on 
 
JOURNEY TO GRANADA 231 
 
 their faces on the earth, ordering their captives to do the like. 
 Among the prisoners were the three identical cavaliers whom 
 the princesses had seen from the pavilion. They either did not 
 understand, or were too haughty to obey the order, and re 
 mained standing and gazing upon the cavalcade as it approached. 
 
 The ire of the monarch was kindled at this flagrant defiance 
 of his orders. Drawing his cimeter, and pressing forward, he was 
 about to deal a left-handed blow that might have been fatal to 
 at least one of the gazers, when the princesses crowded round 
 him, and implored mercy for the prisoners ; even the timid 
 Zorahayda forget her shyness and became eloquent in their 
 behalf. Moharned paused, with uplifted cimeter, when the 
 captain of the guard threw himself at his feet. " Let not your 
 highness," said he, "do a deed that may cause great scandal 
 throughout the kingdom. These are three brave and noble 
 Spanish knights, who have been taken in battle, fighting like 
 lions ; they are of high birth, and may bring great ransoms." 
 " Enough ! " said the king. " I will spare their lives, but pun 
 ish their audacity let them be taken to the Vermilion Towers, 
 and put to hard labor." 
 
 Mohamed was making one of his usual left-handed blunders. 
 In the tumult and agitation of this blustering scene, the veils 
 of the three princesses had been thrown back, and the radiance 
 of their beauty revealed ; and in prolonging the parley, the 
 king had given that beauty time to have its full effect. In 
 those days people fell in love much more suddenly than at 
 present, as all ancient stories make manifest : it is not a matter 
 of wonder, therefore, that the hearts of the three cavaliers were 
 completely captured ; especially as gratitude was added to 
 their admiration ; it is a little singular, however, though no 
 less certain, that each of them was enraptured with a several 
 beauty. As to the princesses, they were more than ever struck 
 with the noble demeanor of the captives, and cherished in their 
 breasts all that they had heard of their valor and noble lineage. 
 
232 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The cavalcade resumed its march ; the three princesses rode 
 pensively along on their tinkling palfreys, now and then stealing 
 a glance behind in search of the Christian captives, and the latter 
 were conducted to their allotted prison in the Vermilion Towers. 
 
 The residence provided for the princesses was one of the 
 most dainty that fancy could devise. It was in a tower some 
 what apart from the main palace of the Alhambra, though con 
 nected with it by the wall which encircled the whole summit of 
 the hill. On one side it looked into the interior of the fortress, 
 and had, at its foot, a small garden filled with the rarest flowers. 
 On the other side it overlooked a deep embowered ravine sepa 
 rating the grounds of the Alhambra from those of the Genera- 
 life. The interior of the tower was divided into small fairy 
 apartments, beautifully ornamented in the light Arabian style, 
 surrounding a lofty hall, the vaulted roof of which rose almost 
 to the summit of the tower. The walls and the ceilings of the 
 hall were adorned with arabesque and fretwork, sparkling with 
 gold and with brilliant pencilling. In the centre of the marble 
 pavement was an alabaster fountain, set round with aromatic 
 shrubs and flowers, and throwing up a jet of water that cooled 
 the whole edifice and had a lulling sound. Round the hall 
 were suspended cages of gold and silver wire, containing singing- 
 birds of the finest plumage or sweetest note. 
 
 The princesses had been represented as always cheerful 
 when in the Castle of the Salobrena; the king had expected 
 to see them enraptured with the Alhambra. To his surprise, 
 however, they began to pine, and grow melancholy, and dissatis 
 fied with everything around them. The flowers yielded them 
 no fragrance, the song of the nightingale disturbed their night s 
 rest, and they were out of all patience with the alabaster 
 fountain, with its eternal drop-drop and splash-splash, from 
 morning till night and from night till morning. 
 
 The king, who was somewhat of a testy, tyrannical disposi 
 tion, took this at first in high dudgeon ; but he reflected that 
 
FEMALE CAPRICES 233 
 
 his daughters had arrived at an age when the female mind ex 
 pands and its desires augment. " They are no longer children," 
 said he to himself, "they are women grown, and require suita 
 ble objects to interest them." He put in requisition, therefore, 
 all the dressmakers, and the jewellers, and the artificers in gold 
 and silver throughout the Zacatin of Granada, and the princesses 
 were overwhelmed with robes of silk, and tissue, and brocade, 
 and cashmere shawls, and necklaces of pearls and diamonds, and 
 rings, and bracelets, and anklets, and all manner of precious 
 things. 
 
 All, however, was of no avail ; the princesses continued pale 
 and languid in the midst of their finery, and looked like three 
 blighted rose-buds, drooping from one stalk. The king was at 
 his wits end. He had in general a laudable confidence in his 
 own judgment, and never took advice. " The whims and ca 
 prices of three marriageable damsels, however, are sufficient," 
 said he, " to puzzle the shrewdest head." So for once in his 
 life he called in the aid of counsel. 
 
 The person to whom he applied was the experienced duenna. 
 
 " Kadiga," said the king, " I know you to be one of the most 
 discreet women in the whole world, as well as one of the most 
 trustworthy ; for these reasons I have always continued you 
 about the persons of my daughters. Fathers cannot be too 
 wary in whom they repose such confidence ; I now wish you to 
 find out the secret malady that is preying upon the princesses, 
 and to devise some means of restoring them to health and 
 cheerfulness." 
 
 Kadiga promised implicit obedience. In fact she knew more 
 of the malady of the princesses than they themselves. Shut 
 ting herself up with them, however, she endeavored to insinuate 
 herself into their confidence. 
 
 " My dear children, what is the reason you are so dismal and 
 downcast in so beautiful a place, where you have everything 
 that heart can wish 1 " 
 
234 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The princesses looked vacantly round the apartment, and 
 sighed. 
 
 "What more, then, would you have? Shall I get you the 
 wonderful parrot that talks all languages, and is the delight of 
 Granada?" 
 
 " Odious ! " exclaimed the princess Zayda. " A horrid, scream 
 ing bird, that chatters words without ideas : one must be with 
 out brains to tolerate such a pest." 
 
 "Shall I send for a monkey from the rock of Gibraltar, to 
 divert you with his antics 1 " 
 
 " A monkey ! faugh ! " cried Zorayda ; "the detestable mimic 
 of man. I hate the nauseous animal." 
 
 " What say you to the famous black singer Casern, from the 
 royal harem, in Morocco? They say he has a voice as fine as 
 a woman s/ 
 
 "I am terrified at the sight of these black slaves," said the 
 delicate Zorahayda ; " besides, I have lost all relish for music." 
 
 " Ah ! my child, you would not say so," replied the old 
 woman, slyly, " had you heard the music I heard last evening, 
 from the three Spanish cavaliers whom we met on our journey. 
 But bless me, children ! what is the matter that you blush so 
 and are in such a flutter ? " 
 
 "Nothing, nothing, good mother; pray proceed." 
 
 " Well ; as I was passing by the Vermilion Towers last even 
 ing, I saw the three cavaliers resting after their day s labor. 
 One was playing on the guitar, so gracefully, and the others 
 sang by turns ; and they did it in such style, that the very 
 guards seemed like statues, or men enchanted. Allah forgive 
 me ! I could not help being moved at hearing the songs of my 
 native country. And then to see three such noble and hand 
 some youths in chains and slavery ! " 
 
 Here the kind-hearted old woman could not restrain her tears. 
 
 "Perhaps, mother, you could manage to procure us a sight 
 of these cavaliers," said Zayda. 
 
ELOQUENCE OF A GUITAR 235 
 
 "I think," said Zorayda, "a little music would be quite 
 reviving." 
 
 The timid Zorahayda said nothing, but threw her arms round 
 the neck of Kadiga. 
 
 " Mercy on me ! " exclaimed the discreet old woman, " what 
 are you talking of, my children? Your father would be the 
 death of us all if he heard of such a thing. To be sure, these 
 cavaliers are evidently well-bred, and high-minded youths ; but 
 what of that 1 They are the enemies of our faith, and you must 
 not even think of them but with abhorrence." 
 
 There is an admirable intrepidity in the female will, particu 
 larly when about the marriageable age, which is not to be de 
 terred by dangers and prohibitions. The princesses hung round 
 their old duenna, and coaxed, and entreated, and declared that 
 a refusal would break their hearts. 
 
 What could she dot She was certainly the most discreet 
 old woman in the whole world, and one of the most faithful 
 servants to the king ; but was she to see three beautiful prin 
 cesses break their hearts for the mere tinkling of a guitar? 
 Besides, though she had been so long among the Moors, and 
 changed her faith in imitation of her mistress, like a trusty 
 follower, yet she was a Spaniard born, and had the lingerings 
 of Christianity in her heart. So she set about to contrive how 
 the wish of the princesses might be gratified. 
 
 The Christian captives, confined in the Vermilion Towers, were 
 under the charge of a big-whiskered, broad-shouldered renegado, 
 called Hussein Baba, who was reputed to have a most itching 
 palm. She went to him privately, and slipping a broad piece 
 of gold into his hand, " Hussein Baba," said she; "my mis 
 tresses the three princesses, who are shut up in the tower, and 
 in sad want of amusement, have heard of the musical talents 
 of the three Spanish cavaliers, and are desirous of hearing a 
 specimen of their skill. I am sure you are too kind-hearted to 
 refuse them so innocent a gratification." 
 
236 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 " What ! and to have my head set grinning over the gate of 
 my own tower ! for that would be the reward, if the king should 
 discover it." 
 
 " No danger of anything of the kind ; the affair may be man 
 aged so that the whim of the princesses may be gratified, and 
 their father be never the wiser. You know the deep ravine 
 outside of the walls which passes immediately below the tower. 
 Put the three Christians to work there, and at the intervals of 
 their labor, let them play and sing, as if for their own recreation. 
 In this way the princesses will be able to hear them from the 
 windows of the tower, and you may be sure of their paying well 
 for your compliance." 
 
 As the good old woman concluded her harangue, she kindly 
 pressed the rough hand of the renegado, and left within it 
 another piece of gold. 
 
 Her eloquence was irresistible. The very next day the three 
 cavaliers were put to work in the ravine. During the noontide 
 heat, when their fellow-laborers were sleeping in the shade, and 
 the guard nodding drowsily at his post, they seated themselves 
 among the herbage at the foot of the tower, and sang a Spanish 
 roundelay to the accompaniment of the guitar. 
 
 The glen was deep, the tower was high, but their voices rose 
 distinctly in the stillness of the summer noon. The princesses 
 listened from their balcony, they had been taught the Spanish 
 language by their duenna, and were moved by the tenderness 
 of the song. The discreet Kadiga, on the contrary, was terribly 
 shocked. "Allah preserve us! " cried she, "they are singing a 
 love-ditty, addressed to yourselves. Did ever mortal hear of 
 such audacity? I will run to the slave-master, and have them 
 soundly bastinadoed." 
 
 ," What! bastinado such gallant cavaliers, and for singing so 
 charmingly ! " The three beautiful princesses were filled with 
 horror at the idea. With all her virtuous indignation, the good 
 old woman was of a placable nature, and easily appeased. Be- 
 
THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS 237 
 
 sides, the music seemed to have a beneficial effect upon her young 
 mistresses. A rosy bloom had already come to their cheeks, and 
 their eyes began to sparkle. She made no further objection, 
 therefore, to the amorous ditty of the cavaliers. 
 
 When it was finished, the princesses remained silent for a 
 time ; at length Zorayada took up a lute, and with a sweet, 
 though faint and trembling voice warbled a little Arabian air, 
 the burden of which was, "The rose is concealed among her 
 leaves, but she listens with delight to the song of the nightingale." 
 
 From this time forward the cavaliers worked almost daily in 
 the ravine. The considerate Hussein Baba became more and 
 more indulgent, and daily more prone to sleep at his post. For 
 some time a vague intercourse was kept up by popular songs 
 and romances, which in some measure responded to each other, 
 and breathed the feelings of the parties. By degrees the prin 
 cesses showed themselves at the balcony, when they could do 
 so without being perceived by the guards. They conversed 
 with the cavaliers also, by means of flowers, with the symbolical 
 language of which they were mutually acquainted ; the difficul 
 ties of their intercourse added to its charms, and strengthened 
 the passion they had so singularly conceived ; for love delights 
 to struggle with difficulties, and thrives the most hardily on 
 the scantiest soil. 
 
 The change effected in the looks and spirits of the princesses 
 by this secret intercourse, surprised and gratified the left-handed 
 king; but no one was more elated than the discreet Kadiga, 
 who considered it all owing to her able management. 
 
 At length there was an interruption in this telegraphic cor 
 respondence ; for several days the cavaliers ceased to make their 
 appearance in the glen. The princesses looked out from the 
 tower in vain. In vain they stretched their swan-like necks 
 from the balcony ; in vain they sang like captive nightingales in 
 their cage : nothing was to be seen of their Christian lovers ; 
 not a note responded from the groves. The discreet Kadiga 
 
238 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 sallied forth in quest of intelligence, and soon returned with a 
 face full of trouble. " Ah, my children ! " cried she, " I saw 
 what all this would come to, but you would have your way; 
 you may now hang up your lutes on the willows. The Spanish 
 cavaliers are ransomed by their families; they are down in 
 Granada, and preparing to return to their native country." 
 
 The three beautiful princesses were in despair at the tidings. 
 Zayda was indignant at the slight put upon them, in thus being 
 deserted without a parting word. Zorayda wrung her hands 
 and cried, and looked in the glass, and wiped away her tears, 
 and cried afresh. The gentle Zorahayda leaned over the bal 
 cony and wept in silence, and her tears fell drop by drop among 
 the flowers of the bank, where the faithless cavaliers had so often 
 been seated. 
 
 The discreet Kadiga did all in her power to soothe their 
 sorrow. "Take comfort, my children," said she, "this is 
 nothing when you are used to it. This is the way of the 
 world. Ah ! when you are as old as I am, you will know how 
 to value these men. I ll warrant these cavaliers have their 
 loves among the Spanish beauties of Cordova and Seville, and 
 will soon be serenading under their balconies, and thinking 
 no more of the Moorish beauties in the Alhambra. Take 
 comfort, therefore, my children, and drive them from your 
 hearts." 
 
 The comforting words of the discreet Kadiga only redoubled 
 the distress of the three princesses, and for two days they 
 continued inconsolable. On the morning of the third the 
 good old woman entered their apartment, all ruffling with 
 indignation. 
 
 " Who would have believed such insolence in mortal man ! " 
 exclaimed she, as soon as she could find words to express her 
 self; "but I am rightly served for having connived at this 
 deception of your worthy father. Never talk more to me of 
 your Spanish cavaliers." 
 
THE AFFLICTED DUENNA 239 
 
 " Why, what has happened, good Kadiga ? " exclaimed the 
 princesses in breathless anxiety. 
 
 " What has happened 1 treason has happened ! or, what 
 is almost as bad, treason has been proposed ; and to me, the 
 most faithful of subjects, the trustiest of duennas ! Yes, my 
 children, the Spanish cavaliers have dared to tamper with me, 
 that I should persuade you to fly with them to Cordova, and 
 become their wives ! " 
 
 Here the excellent old woman covered her face with her 
 hands, and gave way to a violent burst of grief and indignation. 
 The three beautiful princesses turned pale and red, pale and 
 red, and trembled, and looked down, and cast shy looks at 
 each other, but said nothing. Meantime the old woman sat 
 rocking backward and forward in violent agitation, and now 
 and then breaking out into exclamations, " That ever I should 
 live to be so insulted ! I, the most faithful of servants ! " 
 
 At length the eldest princess, who had most spirit and 
 always took the lead, approached her, and laying her hand upon 
 her shoulder, "Well, mother," said she, " supposing we were 
 willing to fly with these Christian cavaliers is such a thing 
 possible 1 " 
 
 The good old woman paused suddenly in her grief, and look 
 ing up, "Possible," echoed she; "to be sure it is possible. 
 Have not the cavaliers already bribed Hussein Baba, the rene- 
 gado captain of the guard, and arranged the whole plan 1 But, 
 then, to think of deceiving your father ! your father, who has 
 placed such confidence in me ! " Here the worthy woman gave 
 way to a fresh burst of grief, and began again to rock backward 
 and forward, and to wring her hands. 
 
 " But our father has never placed any confidence in us," said 
 the eldest princess, " but has trusted to bolts and bars, and 
 treated us as captives." 
 
 " Why, that is true enough," replied the old woman, again 
 pausing in her grief ; " he has indeed treated you most unrea- 
 
240 THE ALHAM8RA 
 
 sonably, keeping you shut up here, to waste your bloom in a 
 moping old tower, like roses left to wither in a flower-jar. But, 
 then, to fly from your native land ! " 
 
 " And is not the land we fly to the native land of our mother, 
 where we shall live in freedom 1 And shall we not each have 
 a youthful husband in exchange for a severe old father ? " 
 
 " Why, that again is all very true ; and your father, I must 
 confess, is rather tyrannical; but what then," relapsing into 
 her grief, " would you leave me behind to bear the brunt of his 
 vengeance 1 " 
 
 " By no means, my good Kadiga ; cannot you fly with us 1 " 
 
 " Very true, my child ; and, to tell the truth, when I talked 
 the matter over with Hussein Baba, he promised to take care 
 of me, if I would accompany you in your flight ; but then, be 
 think you, my children, are you willing to renounce the faith 
 of your father 1 " 
 
 "The Christian faith was the original faith of our mother," 
 said the eldest princess; "I am ready to embrace it, and so, I 
 am sure, are my sisters." 
 
 "Eight again," exclaimed the old woman, brightening up; 
 " it was the original faith of your mother, and bitterly did she 
 lament, on her death-bed, that she had renounced it. I prom 
 ised her then to take care of your souls, and I rejoice to see 
 that they are now in a fair way to be saved. Yes, my children, 
 I too was born a Christian, and have remained a Christian in 
 my heart, and am resolved to return to the faith. I have 
 talked on the subject with Hussein Baba, who is a Spaniard by 
 birth, and comes from a place not far from my native town. 
 He is equally anxious to see his own country, and to be recon 
 ciled to the Church ; and the cavaliers have promised that, if 
 we are disposed to become man and wife, on returning to our 
 native land, they will provide for us handsomely." 
 
 In a word it appeared that this extremely discreet and provi 
 dent old woman had consulted with the cavaliers and the rene- 
 
THE ARRANGEMENT 241 
 
 gado, and had concerted the whole plan of escape. The eldest 
 princess immediately assented to it ; and her example, as usual, 
 determined the conduct of her sisters. It is true the youngest 
 hesitated, for she was gentle and timid of soul, and there was a 
 struggle in her bosom between filial feeling and youthful pas 
 sion : the latter, however, as usual, gained the victory, and with 
 silent tears and stifled sighs she prepared herself for flight. 
 
 The rugged hill on which the Alhambra is built was, in old 
 times, perforated with subterranean passages, cut through the 
 rock, and leading from the fortress to various parts of the city, 
 and to distant sally-ports on the banks of the Darro and the 
 Xenil. They had been constructed at different times by the 
 Moorish kings, as means of escape from sudden insurrections, 
 or of secretly issuing forth on private enterprises. Many of 
 them are now entirely lost, while others remain, partly choked 
 with rubbish, and partly walled up, monuments of the jealous 
 precautions and warlike stratagems of the Moorish government. 
 By one of these passages Hussein Baba had undertaken to con 
 duct the princesses to a sally-port beyond the walls of the city, 
 where the cavaliers were to be ready, with fleet steeds, to bear 
 the whole party over the borders. 
 
 The appointed night arrived ; the tower of the princesses 
 had been locked up as usual, and the Alhambra was buried in 
 deep sleep. Towards midnight the discreet Kadiga listened 
 from the balcony of a window that looked into the garden. 
 Hussein Baba, the renegado, was already below, and gave the 
 appointed signal. The duenna fastened the end of a ladder of 
 ropes to the balcony, lowered it into the garden and descended. 
 The two eldest princesses followed her with beating hearts ; 
 but when it came to the turn of the youngest princess, Zora- 
 hayda, she hesitated and trembled. Several times she ventured 
 a delicate little foot upon the ladder, and as often drew it back, 
 while her poor little heart fluttered more and more the longer 
 she delayed. She cast a wistful look back into the silken 
 
242 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 chamber ; she had lived in it, to be sure, like a bird in a cage ; 
 but within it she was secure ; who could tell what dangers 
 might beset her, should she flutter forth into the wide world ! 
 Now she bethought her of her gallant Christian lover, and her 
 little foot was instantly upon the ladder ; and anon she thought 
 of her father, and shrank back. But fruitless is the attempt 
 to describe the conflict in the bosom of one so young and ten 
 der and loving, but so timid and so ignorant of the world. 
 
 In vain her sisters implored, the duenna scolded, and the 
 renegado blasphemed beneath the balcony : the gentle little 
 Moorish maid stood doubting and wavering on the verge of 
 elopement ; tempted by the sweetness of the sin, but terrified 
 at its perils. 
 
 Every moment increased the danger of discovery. A distant 
 tramp was heard. " The patrols are walking their rounds," 
 cried the renegado ; " if we linger, we perish. Princess, de 
 scend instantly, or we leave you." 
 
 , Zorahayda was for a moment in fearful agitation ; then 
 loosening the ladder of ropes, with desperate resolution she 
 flung it from the balcony. 
 
 "It is decided ! " cried she ; " flight is now out of my 
 power ! Allah guide and bless ye, my dear sisters ! " 
 
 The two eldest princesses were shocked at the thoughts of 
 leaving her behind, and would fain have lingered, but the patrol 
 was advancing ; the renegado was furious, and they were hur 
 ried away to the subterraneous passage. They groped their 
 way through a fearful labyrinth, cut through the heart of the 
 mountain, and succeeded in reaching, undiscovered, an iron gate 
 that opened outside of the walls. The Spanish cavaliers were 
 waiting to receive them, disguised as Moorish soldiers of the 
 guard, commanded by the renegado. 
 
 The lover of Zorahayda was frantic when he learned that she 
 had refused to leave the tower ; but there was no time to waste 
 in lamentations. The two princesses were placed behind their 
 
THE FLIGHT 243 
 
 . lovers, the discreet Kadiga mounted behind the renegado, 
 and they all set off at a round pace in the direction of 
 the Pass of Lope, which leads through the mountains towards 
 Cordova. 
 
 They had not proceeded far when they heard the noise of 
 drums and trumpets from the battlements of the Alhambra. 
 
 " Our flight is discovered ! " said the renegado. 
 
 "We have fleet steeds, the night is dark, and we may dis 
 tance all pursuit," replied the cavaliers. 
 
 They put spurs to their horses, and scoured across the Vega. " 
 They attained the foot of the mountain of Elvira, which stretches 
 like a promontory into the plain. The renegado paused and 
 listened. "As yet," said he, "there is no one on our traces, 
 we shall make good our escape to the mountains." While he 
 spoke, a light blaze sprang up on the top of the watch-tower 
 of the Alhambra. 
 
 " Confusion ! " cried the renegado, " that bale fire will put 
 all the guards of the passes on the alert. Away ! away ! Spur 
 like mad, there is no time to be lost." 
 
 Away they dashed the clattering of their horses hoofs 
 echoed from rock to rock, as they swept along the road that 
 skirts the rocky mountain of Elvira. As they galloped on, the 
 bale fire of the Alhambra was answered in every direction ; light 
 after light blazed on the Atalayas, or watch-towers of the 
 mountains. 
 
 " Forward ! forward ! " cried the renegado, with many an 
 oath, " to the bridge, to the bridge, before the alarm has 
 reached there ! " 
 
 They doubled the promontory of the mountains, and arrived 
 in sight of the famous Bridge of Pinos that crosses a rushing 
 stream often dyed with Christian and Moslem blood. To their 
 confusion, the tower on the bridge blazed with lights and glittered 
 with armed men. The renegado pulled up his steed, rose in 
 his stirrups, and looked about him for a moment ; then beckon- 
 
244 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 ing to the cavaliers, he struck off from the road, skirted the 
 river for some distance, and dashed into its waters. The cava 
 liers called upon the princesses to cling to them, and did the 
 same. They were borne for some distance down the rapid cur 
 rent, the surges roared round them, but the beautiful princesses 
 clung to their Christian knights, and never uttered a complaint. 
 The cavaliers attained the opposite bank in safety, and were 
 conducted by the renegado, by rude and unfrequented paths 
 and wild -barrancos, through the heart of the mountains, so as 
 to avoid all the regular passes. In a word, they succeeded in 
 reaching the ancient city of Cordova, where their restoration 
 to their country and friends was celebrated with great rejoic 
 ings, for they were of the noblest families. The beautiful prin 
 cesses were forthwith received into the bosom of the Church, 
 and after being in all due form made regular Christians, were 
 rendered happy wives. 
 
 In our hurry to make good the escape of the princesses across 
 the river, and up the mountains, we forgot to mention the fate 
 of the discreet Kadiga. She had clung like a cat to Hussein 
 Baba in the scamper across the Vega, screaming at every bound, 
 and drawing many an oath from the whiskered renegado ; but 
 when he prepared to plunge his steed into the river, her ter 
 ror knew no bounds. "Grasp me not so tightly," cried Hus 
 sein Baba ; " hold on by my belt and fear nothing." She held 
 firmly with both hands by the leathern belt that girded the 
 broad-backed renegado ; but when he halted with the cavaliers 
 to take breath on the mountain summit, the duenna was no longer 
 to be seen. 
 
 "What has become of Kadiga?" cried the princesses in 
 alarm. 
 
 " Allah alone knows ! " replied the renegado ; " my belt 
 came loose when in the midst of the river, and Kadiga was 
 swept with it down the stream. The will of Allah be done ! 
 but it was an embroidered belt, and of great price." 
 
THE FATE OF KAD1GA 245 
 
 There was no time to waste in idle regrets ; yet bitterly did 
 the princesses bewail the loss of their discreet counsellor. That 
 excellent old woman, however, did not lose more than half of 
 her nine lives in the water : a fisherman, who was drawing his 
 nets some distance down the stream, brought her to land, 
 and was not a little astonished at his miraculous draught. 
 What furthur became of the discreet Kadiga, the legend 
 does not mention ; certain it is that she evinced her discre 
 tion in never venturing within the reach of Mohamed the 
 Left-handed. 
 
 Almost as little is known of the conduct of that sagacious 
 monarch when he discovered the escape of his daughters, and 
 the deceit practiced upon him by the most faithful of servants. 
 It was the only instance in which he had called in the aid of 
 counsel, and he was never afterwards known to be guilty of 
 a similar weakness. He took good care, however, to guard his 
 remaining daughter, who had no disposition to elope ; it is 
 thought, indeed, that she secretly repented having remained be 
 hind : now and then she was seen leaning on the battlements of 
 the tower, and looking mournfully towards the mountains in 
 the direction of Cordova, and sometimes the notes of her lute 
 were heard accompanying plaintive ditties, in which she was 
 said to lament the loss of her sisters and her lover, and to be 
 wail her solitary life. She died young, and, according to popu 
 lar rumor, was buried in a vault beneath the tower, and her 
 untimely fate has given rise to more than one traditionary 
 fable. 
 
 The following legend, which seems in some measure to spring 
 out of the foregoing story, is too closely connected with high his 
 toric names to be entirely doubted. The Count s daughter, and 
 some of her young companions, to whom it was read in one of 
 the evening tertullias, thought certain parts of it had much ap 
 pearance of reality ; and Dolores, who was much more versed 
 
246 THE A LH A MB HA 
 
 than they in the improbable truths of the Alhambra, believed 
 every word of it. 
 
 1 The reader will recognize the sovereign connected with the for 
 tunes of the Abencerrages. His story appears to be a little fiction- 
 ized in the legend. 
 
 LEGEND OF THE EOSE OF THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 FOR some time after the surrender of Granada by the Moors, 
 that delightful city was a frequent and favorite residence of the 
 Spanish sovereigns, until they were frightened away by succes 
 sive shocks of earthquakes, which toppled down various houses, 
 and made the old Moslem towers rock to their foundation. 
 
 Many, many years then rolled away, during which Granada 
 was rarely honored by a royal guest. The palaces of the nobil 
 ity remained silent and shut up ; and the Alhambra, like a 
 slighted beauty, sat in mournful desolation among her neglected 
 gardens. The tower of the Infantas, once the residence of the 
 three beautiful Moorish princesses, partook of the general deso 
 lation ; the spider spun her web athwart the gilded vault, and 
 bats and owls nestled in those chambers that had been graced 
 by the presence of Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda. The neg 
 lect of this tower may have been partly owing to some super 
 stitious notions of the neighbors. It was rumored that the 
 spirit of the youthful Zorahayda, who had perished in that 
 tower, was often seen by moonlight seated beside the fountain 
 in the hall, or moaning about the battlements, and that the 
 notes of her silver lute would be heard at midnight by way 
 farers passing along the glen. 
 
 At length the city of Granada was once more welcomed by 
 the royal presence. All the world knows that Philip V. was 
 the first Bourbon that swayed the Spanish sceptre. All the 
 world knows that he married, in second nuptials, Elizabetta or 
 
THE TRUANT FALCON 247 
 
 Isabella (for they are the same), the beautiful princess of Parma ; 
 and all the world knows that by this chain of contingencies a 
 French prince and an Italian princess were seated together on 
 the Spanish throne. For a visit of this illustrious pair, the 
 Alhambra was repaired and fitted up with all possible expedi 
 tion. The arrival of the court changed the whole aspect of the 
 lately deserted palace. The clangor of drum and trumpet, the 
 tramp of steed about the avenues and outer court, the glitter 
 of arms and display of banners about barbican and battlement, 
 recalled the ancient and warlike glories of the fortress. A 
 softer spirit, however, reigned within the royal palace. There 
 was the rustling of robes and the cautious tread and murmur 
 ing voice of reverential courtiers about the ante-chambers; a 
 loitering of pages and maids of honor about the gardens, and 
 the sound of music stealing from open casements. 
 
 Among those who attended in the train of the monarchs was 
 a favorite page of the queen, named Ruyz de Alarcon. To say 
 that he was a favorite page of the queen was at once to speak 
 his eulogium, for every one in the suite of the stately Elizabetta 
 was chosen for grace, and beauty, and accomplishments. He 
 was just turned of eighteen, light and lithe of form, and grace 
 ful as a young Antinous. To the queen he was all deference 
 and respect, yet he was at heart a roguish stripling, petted and 
 spoiled by the ladies about the court, and experienced in the 
 ways of women far beyond his years. 
 
 This loitering page was one morning rambling about the 
 groves of the Generalife, which overlook the grounds of the 
 Alhambra. He had taken with him for his amusement a favor 
 ite ger-falcon of the queen. In the course of his rambles, see 
 ing a bird rising from a thicket, he unhooded the hawk and let 
 him fly. The falcon towered high in the air, made a swoop at 
 his quarry, but missing it, soared away, regardless of the calls 
 of the page. The latter followed the truant bird with his eye, 
 in its capricious flight, until he saw it alight upon the battle- 
 
248 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 ments of a remote and lonely tower, in the outer wall of the 
 Alhambra, built on the edge of a ravine that separated the 
 royal fortress from the grounds of the Generalise. It was in 
 fact the "Tower of the Princesses." 
 
 The page descended into the ravine and approached the 
 tower, but it had no entrance from the glen, and its lofty 
 height rendered any attempt to scale it fruitless. Seeking one 
 of the gates of the fortress, therefore, he made a wide circuit to 
 that side of the tower facing within the walls. 
 
 A small garden, enclosed by a trellis-work of reeds overhung 
 with myrtle, lay before the tower. Opening a wicket, the page 
 passed between beds of flowers and thickets of roses to the 
 door. It was closed and bolted. A crevice in the door gave 
 him a peep into the interior. There was a small Moorish hall 
 with fretted walls, light marble columns, and an alabaster 
 fountain surrounded with flowers. In the centre hung a gilt 
 cage containing a singing-bird; beneath it, on a chair, lay a 
 tortoise-shell cat among reels of silk and other articles of female 
 labor, and a guitar decorated with ribbons leaned against the 
 fountain. 
 
 Ruyz de Alarcon was struck with these traces of female 
 taste and elegance in a lonely, and, as he had supposed, deserted 
 tower. They reminded him of the tales of enchanted halls cur 
 rent in the Alhambra; and the tortoise-shell cat might be some 
 spell-bound princess. 
 
 He knocked gently at the door. A beautiful face peeped 
 out from a little window above, but was instantly withdrawn. 
 He waited, expecting that the door would be opened, but he 
 waited in vain; no footstep was to be heard within all was 
 silent. Had his senses deceived him, or was this beautiful ap 
 parition the fairy of the tower ? He knocked again, and more 
 loudly. After a little while the beaming face once more peeped 
 forth ; it was that of a blooming damsel of fifteen. 
 
 The page immediately doffed his plumed bonnet, and en- 
 
THE CAPITULATION 249 
 
 treated in the most courteous accents to be permitted to ascend 
 the tower in pursuit of his falcon. 
 
 " I dare not open the door, Senor," replied the little damsel, 
 blushing, " my aunt has forbidden it." 
 
 " I do beseech you, fair maid it is the favorite falcon of 
 the queen : I dare not return to the palace without it." 
 
 " Are you then one of the cavaliers of the court 1 " 
 
 " I am, fair maid ; but I shall lose the queen s favor and my 
 place, if I lose this hawk." 
 
 " Santa Maria ! It is against you cavaliers of the court my 
 aunt has charged me especially to bar the door." 
 
 " Against wicked cavaliers doubtless, but I am none of these, 
 but a simple harmless page, who will be ruined and undone 
 if you deny me this small request." 
 
 The heart of the little damsel was touched by the distress 
 of the page. It was a thousand pities he should be ruined for 
 the want of so trifling a boon. Surely, too, he could not be one 
 of those dangerous beings whom her aunt had described as a 
 species of cannibal, ever on the prowl to make prey of thought 
 less damsels ; he was gentle and modest, and stood so entreat- 
 ingly with cap in hand, and looked so charming. 
 
 The sly page saw that the garrison began to waver, and 
 redoubled his entreaties in such moving terms that it was not 
 in the nature of mortal maiden to deny him ; so the blushing 
 little warden of the tower descended, and opened the door with 
 a trembling hand, and if the page had been charmed by a mere 
 glimpse of her countenance from the window, he was ravished 
 by the full-length portrait now revealed to him. 
 
 Her Andalusian bodice and trim basquiiia set off the round 
 but delicate symmetry of her form, which was as yet scarce 
 verging into womanhood. Her glossy hair was parted on her 
 forehead with scrupulous exactness, and decorated with a fresh- 
 plucked rose, according to the universal custom of the country. 
 It is true her complexion was tinged by the ardor of a southern 
 
250 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 sun, but it served to give richness to the mantling bloom of 
 her cheek, and to heighten the lustre of her melting eyes. 
 
 Ruyz de Alarcon beheld all this with a single glance, for it 
 became him not to tarry ; he merely murmured his acknowl 
 edgments, and then bounded lightly up the spiral staircase in 
 quest of his falcon. 
 
 He soon returned with the truant bird upon his fist. The 
 damsel, in the meantime, had seated herself by the fountain in 
 the hall, and was winding silk ; but in her agitation she let 
 fall the reel upon the pavement. The page sprang and picked 
 it up, then dropping gracefully on one knee, presented it to her : 
 but, seizing the hand extended to receive it, imprinted on it a 
 kiss more fervent and devout than he had ever imprinted on 
 the fair hand of his sovereign. 
 
 " Ave Maria, Senor ! " exclaimed the damsel, blushing still 
 deeper with confusion and surprise, for never before had she 
 received such a salutation. 
 
 The modest page made a thousand apologies, assuring her it 
 was the way at court of expressing the most profound homage 
 and respect. 
 
 Her anger, if anger she felt, was easily pacified, but her 
 agitation and embarrassment continued, and she sat blushing 
 deeper and deeper, with her eyes cast down upon her work, 
 entangling the silk which she attempted to wind. 
 
 The cunning page saw the confusion in the opposite camp, 
 and would fain have profited by it, but the fine speeches he 
 would have uttered died upon his lips; his attempts at gal 
 lantry were awkward and ineffectual ; and to his surprise, the 
 adroit page, who had figured with such grace and effrontery 
 among the most knowing and experienced ladies of the court, 
 found himself awed and abashed in the presence of a simple 
 damsel of fifteen. 
 
 In fact, the artless maiden, in her own modesty and innocence, 
 had guardians more effectual than the bolts and bars prescribed 
 
THE EMBARRASSMENT 251 
 
 by her vigilant aunt. Still, where is the female bosom proof 
 against the first whisperings of love ? The little damsel, with 
 all her artlessness, instinctively comprehended all that the 
 faltering tongue of the page failed to express, and her heart 
 was fluttered at beholding, for the first time, a lover at her feet 
 and such a lover ! 
 
 The diffidence of the page, though genuine, was short-lived, 
 and he was recovering his usual ease and confidence, when a 
 shrill voice was heard at a distance. 
 
 " My aunt is returning from mass ! " cried the damsel in 
 affright ; " I pray you, Senor, depart." 
 
 " Not until you grant me that rose from your hair as a 
 remembrance." 
 
 She hastily untwisted the rose from her raven locks, " Take 
 it," cried she, agitated and blushing, "but pray begone." 
 
 The page took the rose, and at the same time covered with 
 kisses the fair hand that gave it. Then, placing the flower in 
 his bonnet, and taking the falcon upon his fist he bounded off 
 through the garden, bearing away with him the heart of the 
 gentle Jacinta. 
 
 When the vigilant aunt arrived at the tower, she remarked 
 the agitation of her niece, and an air of confusion in the hall ; 
 but a word of explanation sufficed. "A ger-falcon had pur 
 sued his prey into the hall." 
 
 " Mercy on us ! to think of a falcon flying into the tower. 
 Did ever one hear of so saucy a hawk ? Why, the very bird 
 in the cage is not safe.! " 
 
 The vigilant Fredegonda was one of the most wary of ancient 
 spinsters. She had a becoming terror and distrust of what she 
 denominated " the opposite sex," which had gradually increased 
 through a long life of celibacy. Not that the good lady had 
 ever suffered from their wiles, nature having set up a safe 
 guard in her face that forbade all trespass upon her prem 
 ises ; but ladies who have least cause to fear for themselves. 
 
252 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 are most ready to keep a watch over their more tempting 
 neighbors. 
 
 The niece was the orphan of an officer who had fallen in the 
 wars. She had been educated in a convent, and had recently 
 been transferred from her sacred asylum to the immediate 
 guardianship of her aunt, under whose overshadowing care she 
 vegetated in obscurity, like an opening rose blooming beneath a 
 brier. Nor indeed is this comparison entirely accidental ; for, 
 to tell the truth, her fresh and dawning beauty had caught 
 the public eye, even in her seclusion, and, with that poetical 
 turn common to the people of Andalusia, the peasantry of the 
 neighborhood had given her the appellation of "the Rose of 
 the Al ham bra." 
 
 The wary aunt continued to keep a faithful watch over her 
 tempting little niece as long as the court continued at Granada, 
 and flattered herself that her vigilance had been successful. It 
 is true the good lady was now and then discomposed by the 
 tinkling of guitars and chanting of love-ditties from the moon 
 lit groves beneath the tower ; but she would exhort her niece 
 to shut her ears against such idle minstrelsy, assuring her 
 that it was one of the arts of the opposite sex, by which 
 simple maids were often lured to their undoing. Alas ! what 
 chance with a simple maid has a dry lecture against a moon 
 light serenade ? 
 
 At length king Philip cut short his sojourn at Granada, and 
 suddenly departed with all his train. The vigilant Fredegonda 
 watched the royal pageant as it issued forth from the Gate of 
 Justice, and descended the great avenue leading to the city. 
 When the last banner disappeared from her sight, she returned 
 exulting to her tower, for all her cares were over. To her 
 surprise, a light Arabian steed pawed the ground at the wicket- 
 gate of the garden ; to her horror she saw through the thickets 
 of roses a youth in gayly embroidered dress, at the feet of her 
 niece. At the sound of her footsteps he gave a tender adieu, 
 
THE FORSAKEN MAID 253 
 
 bounded lightly over the barrier of reeds and myrtles, sprang 
 upon his horse and was out of sight in an instant. 
 
 The tender Jacinta, in the agony of her grief, lost all thought 
 of her aunt s displeasure. Throwing herself into her arms, she 
 broke forth into sobs and tears. 
 
 "Ay de mi ! " cried she ; " he s gone ! he s gone ! he s 
 gone ! and I shall never see him more ! " 
 
 " Gone ! who is gone ? what youth is that I saw at your 
 feet?" 
 
 " A queen s page, aunt, who came to bid me farewell." 
 
 " A queen s page, child ! " echoed the vigilant Fredegonda, 
 faintly, " and when did you become acquainted with the queen s 
 page?" 
 
 " The morning that the ger-falcon came into the tower. It 
 was the queen s ger-falcon, and he came in pursuit of it." 
 
 "Ah silly, silly girl ! know that there are no ger-falcons half 
 so dangerous as these young prankling pages, and it is precisely 
 such simple birds as thee that they pounce upon." 
 
 The aunt was at first indignant at learning that in despite of 
 her boasted vigilance, a tender intercourse had been carried on 
 by the youthful lovers, almost beneath her eye ; but when she 
 found that her simple-hearted niece, though thus exposed, with 
 out the protection of bolt or bar, to all the machinations of the 
 opposite sex, had come forth unsinged from the fiery ordeal, she 
 consoled herself with the persuasion that it was owing to the 
 chaste and cautious maxims in which she had, as it were, 
 steeped her to the very lips. 
 
 While the aunt laid this soothing unction to her pride, the 
 niece treasured up the oft-repeated vows of fidelity of the page. 
 But what is the love of restless, roving man? A vagrant 
 stream that dallies for a time with each flower upon its bank, 
 then passes on, and leaves them all in tears. 
 
 Days, weeks, months elapsed, and nothing more was heard 
 of the page. The pomegranate ripened, the vine yielded up its 
 
254 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 fruit, the autumnal rains descended in torrents from the moun 
 tains ; the Sierra Nevada became covered with a snowy mantle, 
 and wintry blasts howled through the halls of the Alhambra 
 still he came not. The winter past away. Again the genial 
 spring burst forth with song and blossom and balmy zephyr ; 
 the snows melted from the mountains, until none remained 
 but on the lofty summit of Nevada, glistening through the 
 sultry summer air. Still nothing was heard of the forgetful 
 page. 
 
 In the meantime the poor little Jacinta grew pale and 
 thoughtful. Her former occupations and amusements were 
 abandoned, her silk lay entangled, her guitar unstrung, her 
 flowers were neglected, the notes of her bird unheeded, and her 
 eyes, once so bright, were dimmed with secret weeping. If any 
 solitude could be devised to foster the passion of a love-lorn 
 damsel it would be such a place as the Alhambra, where every 
 thing seems disposed to produce tender and remaiitic reveries. 
 It is a very paradise for lovers : how hard then to be alone in 
 such a paradise and not merely alone, but forsaken ! 
 
 " Alas, silly child ! " would the staid and immaculate Frede- 
 gonda say, when she found her niece in one of her desponding 
 moods "did I not warn thee against the wiles and deceptions 
 of these men ? What couldst thou expect, too, from one of a 
 haughty and aspiring family thou an orphan, the descendant 
 of a fallen and impoverished line? Be assured, if the youth 
 were true, his father, who is one of the proudest nobles about 
 the court, would prohibit his union with one so humble and 
 portionless as thou. Pluck up thy resolution, therefore, and 
 drive these idle notions from thy mind." 
 
 The words of the immaculate Fredegonda only served to 
 increase the melancholy of her niece, but she sought to indulge 
 it in private. At a late hour one midsummer night, after her 
 aunt had retired to rest, she remained alone in the hall of the 
 tower, seated beside the alabaster fountain. It was here that 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE FOUNTAIN 255 
 
 the faithless page had first knelt and kissed her hand ; it was 
 here that he had often vowed eternal fidelity. The poor little 
 damsel s heart was overladen with sad and tender recollections, 
 her tears began to flow, and slowly fell drop by drop into 
 the fountain. By degrees the crystal water became agitated, 
 and bubble bubble bubble boiled up and was tossed 
 about, until a female figure, richly clad in Moorish robes, slowly 
 rose to view. 
 
 Jacinta was so frightened that she fled from the hall, and 
 did not venture to return. The next morning she related what 
 she had seen to her aunt, but the good lady treated it as a 
 fantasy of her troubled mind, or supposed she had fallen asleep 
 and dreamt beside the fountain. "Thou hast been thinking 
 of the story of the three Moorish princesses that once inhabited 
 this tower," continued she, "and it has entered into thy dreams." 
 
 " What story, aunt ? I know nothing of it." 
 
 "Thou hast certainly heard of the three princesses, Zayda, 
 Zorayda, and Zorahayda, who were confined in this tower by 
 the king their father, and agreed to fly with three Christian 
 cavaliers. The two first accomplished their escape, but the 
 third failed in her resolution, and, it is said, died in this 
 tower." 
 
 " I now recollect to have heard of it," said Jacinta, " and to 
 have wept over the fate of the gentle Zorahayda." 
 
 " Thou mayest well weep over her fate," continued the aunt, 
 " for the lover of Zorahayda was thy ancestor. He long be 
 moaned his Moorish love ; but time cured him of his grief, and 
 he married a Spanish lady, from whom thou art descended." 
 
 Jacinta ruminated upon these words. " That what I have 
 seen is no fantasy of the brain," said she to herself, "I am 
 confident. If indeed it be the spirit of the gentle Zorahayda, 
 which I have heard lingers about this tower, of what should I 
 be afraid 1 I ll watch by the fountain to-night perhaps the 
 visit will be repeated," 
 
256 . THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 Towards midnight, when everything was quiet, she again took 
 her seat in the hall. As the bell in the distant watch-tower of 
 the Alhambra struck the midnight hour, the fountain was again 
 agitated ; and bubble bubble bubble it tossed about the 
 waters until the Moorish female again rose to view. She was 
 young and beautiful ; her dress was rich with jewels, and in 
 her hand she held a silver lute. Jacinta trembled and was 
 faint, but was reassured by the soft and plaintive voice of the 
 apparition, and the sweet expression of her pale, melancholy 
 countenance. 
 
 " Daughter of mortality," said she, " what aileth thee ? Why 
 do thy tears trouble my fountain, and thy sighs and plaints dis 
 turb the quiet watches of the night 1 " 
 
 " I weep because of the faithlessness of man, and I bemoan 
 my solitary and forsaken state." 
 
 " Take comfort ; thy sorrows may yet have an end. Thou 
 beholdest a Moorish princess, who, like thee, was unhappy in 
 her love. A Christian knight, thy ancestor, won my heart, and 
 would have borne me to his native land and to the bosom of 
 his church. I was a convert in my heart, but I lacked courage 
 equal to my faith, and lingered till too late. For this the evil 
 genii are permitted to have power over me, and I remain en 
 chanted in this tower until some pure Christian will deign to 
 break the magic spell. Wilt thou undertake the task 1 " 
 
 " I will," replied the damsel, trembling. 
 
 " Come hither then, and fear not ; dip thy hand in the foun 
 tain, sprinkle the water over me, and baptize me after the man 
 ner of thy faith; so shall the enchantment be dispelled, and 
 my troubled spirit have repose." 
 
 The damsel advanced with faltering steps, dipped her hand 
 in the fountain, collected water in the palm, and sprinkled it 
 over the pale face of the phantom. 
 
 The latter smiled with ineffable benignity. She dropped her 
 silver lute at the feet of Jacinta, crossed her white arms upon 
 
THE SILVER LUTE 257 
 
 her bosom, and melted from sight, so that it seemed merely as 
 if a shower of dewdrops had fallen into the fountain. 
 
 Jacinta retired from the hall filled with awe and wonder. 
 She scarcely closed her eyes that night ; but when she awoke 
 at daybreak out of a troubled slumber, the whole appeared to 
 her like a distempered dream. On descending into the hall, 
 however, the truth of the vision was established, for beside the 
 fountain she beheld the silver lute glittering in the morning 
 sunshine. 
 
 She hastened to her aunt, to relate all that had befallen her, 
 and called her to behold the lute as a testimonial of the reality 
 of her story. If the good lady had any lingering doubts, they 
 were removed when Jacinta touched the instrument, for she 
 drew forth such ravishing tones as to thaw even the frigid 
 bosom of the immaculate Fredegonda, that region of eternal 
 winter, into a genial flow. Nothing but supernatural melody 
 could have produced such an effect. 
 
 The extraordinary power of the lute became every day more 
 and more apparent. The wayfarer passing by the tower was 
 detained, and, as it were, spell-bound in breathless ecstasy. 
 The very birds gathered in the neighboring trees, and hushing 
 their own strains, listened in charmed silence. 
 
 Rumor soon spread the news abroad. The inhabitants of 
 Granada thronged to the Alhambra to catch a few notes of the 
 transcendent music that floated about the tower of Las Infantas. 
 
 The lovely little minstrel was at length drawn forth from 
 her retreat. The rich and powerful of the land contended who 
 should entertain and do honor to her; or rather, who should 
 secure the charais of her lute to draw fashionable throngs to 
 their saloons. Wherever she went her vigilant aunt kept a 
 dragon watch at her elbow, awing the throngs of impassioned 
 admirers who hung in raptures on her strains. The report of 
 her wonderful powers spread from city to city. Malaga, Seville, 
 Cordova, all became successively mad on the theme; nothing 
 
258 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 was talked of throughout Andalusia but the beautiful minstrel 
 of the Alhambra. How could it be otherwise among a people 
 so musical and gallant as the Andalusians, when the lute was 
 magical in its powers, and the minstrel inspired by love ! 
 
 While all Andalusia was thus music mad, a different mood 
 prevailed at the court of Spain. Philip V., as is well known, 
 was a miserable hypochondriac, and subject to all kinds of 
 fancies. Sometimes he would keep his bed for weeks together, 
 groaning under imaginary complaints. At other times he would 
 insist upon abdicating his throne, to the great annoyance of his 
 royal spouse, who had a strong relish for the splendors of a court 
 and the glories of a crown, and guided the sceptre of her imbecile 
 lord with an expert and steady hand. 
 
 Nothing was found to be so efficacious in dispelling the royal 
 megrims as the power of music ; the queen took care, therefore, 
 to have the best performers, both vocal and instrumental, at 
 hand, and retained the famous Italian singer Farinelli about the 
 court as a kind of royal physician. 
 
 At the moment we treat of, however, a freak had come over 
 the mind of this sapient and illustrious Bourbon that surpassed 
 all former vagaries. After a long spell of imaginary illness, 
 which set all the strains of Farinelli and the consultations of a 
 whole orchestra of court fiddlers at defiance, the monarch fairly, 
 in idea, gave up the ghost, and considered himself absolutely 
 dead. 
 
 This would have been harmless enough, and even convenient 
 both to his queen and courtiers, had he been content to remain 
 in the quietude befitting a dead man ; but to their annoyance 
 he insisted upon having the funeral ceremonies performed over 
 him, and, to their inexpressible perplexity, began to grow impa 
 tient, and to revile bitterly at them for negligence and disre 
 spect, in leaving him unburied. What was to be done? To 
 disobey the king s positive commands was monstrous in the 
 eyes of the obsequious courtiers of a punctilious court 
 
ROYAL MEGRIMS 259 
 
 but to obey him and bury him alive would be downright 
 regicide ! 
 
 In the midst of this fearful dilemma a rumor reached the 
 court of the female minstrel who was turning the brains of all 
 Andalusia. The queen dispatched missions in all haste to sum 
 mon her to St. Ildefonso, where the court at that time resided. 
 
 Within a few days, as the queen with her maids of honor 
 was walking in those stately gardens, intended, with their 
 avenues and terraces and fountains, to eclipse the glories of 
 Versailles, the far-famed minstrel was conducted into her 
 presence. The imperial Elizabetta gazed with surprise at the 
 youthful and unpretending appearance of the little being that 
 had set the world madding. She was in her picturesque Anda- 
 lusian dress, her silver lute in hand, and stood with modest and 
 downcast eyes, but with a simplicity and freshness of beauty 
 that still bespoke her "the Rose of the Alhambra." 
 
 As usual she was accompanied by the ever-vigilant Frede- 
 gonda, who gave the whole history of her parentage and descent 
 to the inquiring queen. If the stately Elizabetta had been 
 interested by the appearance of Jacinta, she was still more 
 pleased when she learnt that she was of a meritorious though 
 impoverished line, and that her father had bravely fallen in the 
 service of the crown. "If thy powers equal thy renown," said 
 she, "and thou canst cast forth this evil spirit that possesses 
 thy sovereign, thy fortunes shall henceforth be my care, and 
 honors and wealth attend thee." 
 
 Impatient to make trial of her skill, she led the way at once 
 to the apartment of the moody monarch. 
 
 Jacinta followed with downcast eyes through files of guards 
 and crowds of courtiers. They arrived at length at a great 
 chamber hung with black. The windows were closed to exclude 
 the light of day : a number of yellow wax tapers in silver sconces 
 diffused a lugubrious light, and dimly revealed the figures of 
 mutes in mourning dresses, and courtiers who glided about with 
 
260 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 noiseless step and woe-begone visage. In the midst of a funeral 
 bed or bier, his hands folded on his breast, and the tip of his 
 nose just visible, lay extended this would-be-buried monarch. 
 
 The queen entered the chamber in silence, and pointing to a 
 footstool in an obscure corner, beckoned to Jacinta to sit down 
 and commence. 
 
 At first she touched her lute with a faltering hand, but 
 gathering confidence and animation as she proceeded, drew forth 
 such soft aerial harmony, that all present could scarce believe it 
 mortal. As to the monarch, who had already considered him 
 self in the world of spirits, he set it down for some angelic 
 melody or the music of the spheres. By degrees the theme 
 was varied, and the voice of the minstrel accompanied the 
 instrument. She poured forth one of the legendary ballads 
 treating of the ancient glories of the Alhambra and the achieve 
 ments of the Moors. Her whole soul entered into the theme, 
 for with the recollections of the Alhambra was associated the 
 story of her love. The funeral-chamber resounded with the 
 animating strain. It entered into the gloomy heart of the mon 
 arch. He raised his head and gazed around : he sat up on his 
 couch, his eye began to kindle at length, leaping upon the 
 floor, he called for sword and buckler. 
 
 The triumph of music, or rather of the enchanted lute, was 
 complete ; the demon of melancholy was cast forth ; and, as it 
 were, a dead man brought to life. The windows of the apart 
 ment were thrown open ; the glorious effulgence of Spanish sun 
 shine burst into the late lugubrious chamber; all eyes sought 
 the lovely enchantress, but the lute had fallen from her hand, she 
 had sunk upon the earth, and the next moment was clasped 
 to the bosom of Euyz de Alarcon. 
 
 The nuptials of the happy couple were celebrated soon after 
 wards with great splendor, and the rose of the Alhambra became 
 the ornament and delight of the court. " But hold not so 
 fast" I hear the reader exclaim; "this is jumping to the 
 
THE TRIUMPH OF MUSIC 261 
 
 end of a story at a furious rate ! First let us know how Ruyz 
 de Alarcon managed to account to Jacinta for his long neglect." 
 Nothing more easy; the venerable, time-honored excuse, the 
 opposition to his wishes by a proud, pragmatical old father : 
 besides, young people who really like one another soon come to 
 . an amicable understanding, and bury all past grievances when 
 once they meet. 
 
 But how was the proud, pragmatical old father reconciled to 
 the match ? 
 
 Oh ! as to that, his scruples were easily overcome by a word 
 or two from the queen; especially as dignities and rewards 
 were showered upon the blooming favorite of royalty. Besides, 
 the lute of Jacinta, you know, possessed a magic power, and 
 could control the most stubborn head and hardest breast. 
 
 And what came of the enchanted lute 1 
 
 Oh, that is the most curious matter of all, and plainly proves 
 the truth of the whole story. That lute remained for some 
 time in the family, but was purloined and carried off, as was 
 supposed, by the great singer Farinelli, in pure jealousy. At 
 his death it passed irfto other hands in Italy, who were ignorant 
 of its mystic powers, and melting down the silver, transferred 
 the strings to an old Cremona fiddle. The strings still retain 
 something of their magic virtues. A word in the reader s ear, 
 but let it go no furthers that fiddle is now bewitching the 
 whole world, it is the fiddle of Paganini ! 
 
 THE VETERAN 
 
 AMONG the curious acquaintances I made in my rambles 
 about the fortress, was a brave and battered old colonel of 
 Invalids, who was nestled like a hawk in one of the Moorish 
 towers. His history, which he was fond of telling, was a tissue 
 of those adventures, mishaps, and vicissitudes that render the 
 
262 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 life of almost every Spaniard of note as varied and whimsical 
 as the pages of Gil Bias. 
 
 He was in America at twelve years of age, and reckoned - 
 among the most signal and fortunate events of his life, his hav 
 ing seen General Washington. Since then he had taken a part 
 in all the wars of his country ; he could speak experimentally 
 of most of the prisons and dungeons of the Peninsula ; had 
 been lamed of one leg, crippled in his hands, and so cut up and 
 carbonadoed that he was a kind of walking monument of the 
 troubles of Spain, on which there was a scar for every battle 
 and broil, as every year of captivity was notched upon the tree 
 of Robinson Crusoe. The greatest misfortune of the brave old 
 cavalier, however, appeared to have been his having commanded 
 at Malaga during a time of peril and confusion, and been made 
 a general by the inhabitants, to protect them from the invasion 
 of the French. This had entailed upon him a number of just 
 claims upon government, that I feared would employ him until 
 his dying day in writing and printing petitions and memorials, 
 to the great disquiet of his mind, exhaustion of his purse, and 
 penance of his friends ; not one of whom could visit him with 
 out having to listen to .a mortal document of half an hour in 
 length, and to carry away half a dozen pamphlets in his pocket. 
 This, however, is the case throughout Spain ; everywhere you 
 meet with some worthy wight brooding in a corner, and nursing 
 up some pet grievance and cherished wrong. Besides, a Span 
 iard who has a lawsuit, or a claim upon government, may be 
 considered as furnished with employment for the remainder of 
 his life. 
 
 I visited the veteran in his quarters in the upper part of the 
 Torre del Vino, or Wine Tower. His room was small but snug, 
 and commanded a beautiful view of the Vega. It was arranged 
 with a soldier s precision. Three muskets and a brace of pistols, 
 all bright and shining, were suspended against the wall, with a 
 sabre and a cane hanging side by side, and above them x two 
 
THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY 263 
 
 cocked hats, one for parade, and one for ordinary use. A small 
 shelf containing some half a dozen books formed his library, 
 one of which, a little old mouldy volume of philosophical max 
 ims, was his favorite reading. This he thumbed and pondered 
 over day by day, applying every maxim to his own particular 
 case, provided it had a little tinge of wholesome bitterness, and 
 treated of the injustice of the world. 
 
 Yet he was social and kind-hearted, and, provided he could 
 be diverted from his wrongs and his philosophy, was an enter 
 taining companion. I like these old weather-beaten sons of A 
 fortune, and enjoy their rough campaigning anecdotes. In the \ 
 course of my visits to the one in question, I learnt some curious 
 facts about an old military commander of the fortress, who 
 seems to have resembled him in some respects, and to have had 
 similar fortunes in the wars. These particulars have been aug 
 mented by inquiries among some of the old inhabitants of the 
 place, particularly the father of Mateo Ximenes, of whose tra 
 ditional stories the worthy I am about to introduce to the 
 reader was a favorite hero. 
 
 THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY 
 
 IN former times there ruled, as governor of the Alhambra, a 
 doughty old cavalier, who, from having lost one arm in the 
 wars, was commonly known by the name of el Gobernador 
 Manco, or " the one-armed governor." He in fact prided him 
 self upon being an old soldier, wore his moustaches curled up 
 to his eyes, a pair of campaigning boots, and a toledo as long 
 as a spit, with his pocket-handkerchief in the basket-hilt. 
 
 He was, moreover, exceedingly proud and punctilious, and 
 tenacious of all his privileges and dignities. Under his sway 
 the immunities of the Alhambra, as a royal residence and do 
 main, were rigidly exacted. No one was permitted to enter 
 
264 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the fortress with firearms, or even with a sword or staff, unless 
 he were of a certain rank ; and every horseman was obliged to 
 dismount at the gate, and lead his horse by the bridle. Now 
 as the hill of the Alhambra rises from the very midst of the 
 city of Granada, being, as it were, an excrescence of the capital, 
 it must at all times be somewhat irksome to the captain-gen 
 eral, who commands the province, to have thus an imperium 
 in imperio, a petty independent post in the very centre of his 
 domains. It was rendered the more galling, in the present in 
 stance, from the irritable jealousy of the old governor, that took 
 fire on the least question of authority and jurisdiction ; and 
 from the loose, vagrant character of the people who had gradu 
 ally nestled themselves within the fortress, as in a sanctuary, 
 and thence carried on a system of roguery and depredation at 
 the expense of the honest inhabitants of the city. . 
 
 Thus there was a perpetual feud and heart-burning between 
 the cap tain -general and the governor, the more virulent on the 
 part of the latter, inasmuch as the smallest of two neighboring 
 potentates is always the most captious about his dignity. The 
 stately palace of the captain-general stood in the Plaza Nueva, 
 immediately at the foot of the hill of the Alhambra ; and here 
 was always a bustle and parade of guards, and domestics, and 
 city functionaries. A beetling bastion of the fortress over 
 looked the palace and public square in front of it, and on this 
 bastion the old governor would occasionally strut backwards 
 and forwards, with his toledo girded by his side, keeping a wary 
 eye down upon his rival, like a hawk reconnoitring his quarry 
 from his nest in a dry tree. 
 
 Whenever he descended into the city, it was in grand parade ; 
 on horseback, surrounded by his guards ; or in his state coach, 
 an ancient and unwieldy Spanish edifice of carved timber and 
 gilt leather, drawn by eight mules, with running footmen, out 
 riders, and lackeys ; on which occasions he flattered himself 
 he impressed every beholder with awe and admiration as vice- 
 
RIVAL POTENTATES 265 
 
 gerent of the king ; though the wits of Granada, particularly 
 those who loitered about the palace of the captain-general, 
 were apt to sneer at his petty parade, and, in allusion to the 
 vagrant character of his subjects, to greet him with the appel 
 lation of " the king of the beggars." One of the most fruitful 
 sources of dispute between these two doughty rivals was the right 
 claimed by the governor to have all things passed free of duty 
 through the city that were intended for the use of himself or 
 his garrison. By degrees thjs privilege had given rise to exten 
 sive smuggling. A nest of contrabandistas took up their abode 
 in the hovels of the fortress and the numerous caves in its 
 vicinity, and drove a thriving business under the connivance of 
 the soldiers of the garrison. 
 
 The vigilance of the captain-general was aroused. He con 
 sulted his legal adviser and factotum, a shrewd, meddlesome 
 escribano, or notary, who rejoiced in an opportunity of perplex 
 ing the old potentate of the Alhambra, and involving him in a 
 maze of legal subtleties. He advised the captain-general to 
 insist upon the right of examining every convoy passing through 
 the gates of his city, and penned a long letter for him in vindi 
 cation of the right. Governor Manco was a straightforward 
 cut-and-thrust old soldier, who hated an escribano worse than 
 the devil, and this one in particular worse than all other escri- 
 
 " What ! " said he, curling up his moustaches fiercely, "does 
 the captain-general set his man of the pen to practise confu 
 sions upon me? I ll let him see an old soldier is not to be 
 baffled by schoolcraft." 
 
 He seized his pen and scrawled a short letter in a crabbed 
 hand, in which, without deigning to enter into argument, he 
 insisted on the right of transit free of search, and denounced 
 vengeance on any custom-house officer who should lay his un 
 hallowed hand on any convoy protected by the flag of the 
 Alhambra. While this question was agitated between the two 
 
266 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 pragmatical potentates, it so happened that a mule laden with 
 supplies for the fortress arrived one day at the gate of Xenil, 
 by which it was to traverse a suburb of the city on its way to 
 the Alhambra. The convoy was headed by a testy old corporal, 
 who had long served under the governor, and was a man after 
 his own heart, as rusty and stanch as an old Toledo blade. 
 
 As they approached the gate of the city, the corporal placed 
 the banner of the Alhambra on the pack-saddle of the mule, 
 and drawing himself up to a perfect perpendicular, advanced 
 with his head dressed to the front, but with the wary side- 
 glance of a cur passing through hostile ground and ready for 
 a snap and a snarl. 
 
 "Who goes there?" said the sentinel at the gate. 
 
 " Soldier of the Alhambra ! " said the corporal, without turn 
 ing his head. 
 
 "What have you in charge?" 
 
 "Provisions for the garrison." 
 
 " Proceed." 
 
 The corporal marched straight forward, followed by the con 
 voy, but had not advanced many paces before a posse of custom 
 house officers rushed out of a small toll-house. 
 
 " Hallo there ! " cried the leader. " Muleteer, halt, and open 
 those packages." 
 
 The corporal wheeled round and drew himself up in battle 
 array. " Kespect the flag of the Alhambra," said he ; " these 
 things are for the governor." 
 
 " A figo for the governor and a figo for his flag. Muleteer, 
 halt, I say." 
 
 " Stop the convoy at your peril ! " cried the corporal, cocking 
 his musket. " Muleteer, proceed." 
 
 The muleteer gave his beast a hearty thwack ; the custom 
 house officer sprang forward and seized the halter ; whereupon 
 the corporal levelled his piece and shot him dead. 
 
 The street was immediately in an uproar, 
 
LEGAL TILTING 267 
 
 The old corporal was seized, and after undergoing sundry 
 kicks, and cuffs, and cudgellings, which are generally given im 
 promptu by the mob in Spain as a foretaste of the after penal 
 ties of the law, he was loaded with irons and conducted to the 
 city prison, while his comrades were permitted to proceed with 
 the convoy, after it had been well rummaged, to the Alhambra. 
 
 The old governor was in a towering passion when he heard 
 of this insult to his flag and capture of his corporal. For a 
 time he stormed about the Moorish halls, and vapored about 
 the bastions, and looked down fire and sword upon the palace 
 of the captain-general. Having vented the first ebullition of 
 his wrath, he dispatched a message demanding the surrender 
 of the corporal, as to him alone belonged the right of sitting in 
 judgment on the offences of those under his command. The 
 captain-general, aided by the pen of the delighted escribano, 
 replied at great length, arguing, that, as the offence had been 
 committed within the walls of his city, and against one of his 
 civil officers, it was clearly within his proper jurisdiction. The 
 governor rejoined by a repetition of his demand ; the captain- 
 general gave a surrejoinder of still greater length and legal 
 acumen ; the governor became hotter and more peremptory in 
 his demands, and the captain-general cooler and more copious 
 in his replies ; until the old lion-hearted soldier absolutely roared 
 with fury at being thus entangled in the meshes of legal con 
 troversy. 
 
 While the subtle escribano was thus amusing himself at the 
 expense of the governor, he was conducting the trial of the 
 corporal, who, mewed up in a narrow dungeon of the prison, 
 had merely a small grated window at which to show his iron- 
 bound visage and receive the consolations of his friends. 
 
 A mountain of written testimony was diligently heaped up, 
 according to Spanish form, by the indefatigable escribano ; the 
 corporal was completely overwhelmed by it. He was convicted 
 of murder, and sentenced to be hanged. 
 
268 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 It was in vain the governor sent down remonstrance and 
 menace from the Alhambra. The fatal day was at hand, and 
 the corporal was put in capilla, that is to say, in the chapel 
 of the prison, as is always done with culprits the day before 
 execution, that they may meditate on their approaching end 
 and repent them of their sins. 
 
 Seeing things drawing to extremity, the old governor deter 
 mined to attend to the affair in person. For this purpose he 
 ordered out his carriage of state, and, surrounded by his guards, 
 rumbled down the avenue of the Alhambra into the city. Driv 
 ing to the house of the escribano, he summoned him to the 
 portal. 
 
 The eye of the old governor gleamed like a coal at beholding 
 the smirking man of the law advancing with an air of exultation. 
 
 " What is this I hear," cried he, " that you are about to put 
 to death one of my soldiers ? " 
 
 "All according to law all in strict form of justice," said 
 the self-sufficient escribano, chuckling and rubbing his hands; 
 " I can show your Excellency the written testimony in the case." 
 
 " Fetch it hither," said the governor. The escribano bustled 
 into his office, delighted with having another opportunity of dis 
 playing his ingenuity at the expense of the hard-headed veteran. 
 He returned with a satchel full of papers, and began to read 
 a long deposition with professional volubility. By this time a 
 crowd had collected, listening with outstretched necks and gaping 
 mouths. 
 
 " Prithee, man, get into the carriage, out of this pestilent 
 throng, that I may the better hear thee," said the governor. 
 
 The escribano entered the carriage, when, in a twinkling, 
 the door was closed, the coachman smacked his whip, mules, 
 carriage, guards, and all dashed off at a thundering rate, leav 
 ing the crowd in gaping wonderment ; nor did the governor 
 pause until he had lodged his prey in one of the strongest 
 dungeons of the Alhambra. 
 
THE RIVAL GIBBETS 269 
 
 He then sent down a flag of truce in military style, propos 
 ing a cartel, or exchange of prisoners, the corporal for the 
 notary. The pride of the captain-general was piqued; he re 
 turned a contemptuous refusal, and forthwith caused a gallows, 
 tall and strong, to be erected in the centre of the Plaza Nueva 
 for the execution of the corporal. 
 
 " Oho ! is that the game 1 " said Governor Manco. He gave 
 orders, and immediately a gibbet was reared on the verge of 
 the great beetling bastion that overlooked the Plaza. "Now," 
 said he, in a message to the captain-general, u hang my soldier 
 when you please ; but at the same time that he is swung off in 
 the square, look up to see your escribano dangling against the 
 sky." 
 
 The captain-general was inflexible ; troops were paraded in 
 the square, the drums beat, the bell tolled. An immense mul 
 titude of amateurs gathered together to behold the execution. 
 On the other hand, the governor paraded his garrison on the 
 bastion, and tolled the funeral dirge of the notary from the 
 Torre de la Campana, or Tower of the Bell. 
 
 The notary s wife pressed through the crowd, with a whole 
 progeny of little embryo escribanos at her heels, and throwing 
 herself at the feet of the captain-general, implored him not to 
 sacrifice the life of her husband, and the welfare of herself and 
 her numerous little ones, to a point of pride ; "for you know 
 the old governor too well," said she, "to doubt that he will put 
 his threat in execution, if you hang the soldier." 
 
 The captain-general was overpowered by her tears and lamen 
 tations, and the clamors of her callow brood. The corporal was 
 sent up to the Alhambra, under a guard, in his gallows garb, 
 like a hooded friar, but with head erect and a face of iron. 
 The escribano was demanded in exchange, according to the 
 cartel. The once bustling and self-sufficient man of the law 
 was drawn forth from his dungeon more dead than alive. All 
 his flippancy and conceit had evaporated ; his hair, it is said, 
 
270 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 had nearly turned gray with affright, and he had a downcast, 
 dogged look, as if he still felt the halter round his neck. 
 
 The old governor stuck his one arm akimbo, and for a mo 
 ment surveyed him with an iron smile. " Henceforth, my 
 friend," said he, " moderate your zeal in hurrying others to the 
 gallows ; be not too certain of your safety, even though you 
 should have the law on your side ; and, above all, take care how 
 you play off your schoolcraft another time upon an old soldier." 
 
 GOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER 
 
 WHILE Governor Manco, or " the one-armed," kept up a show 
 of military state in the Alhambra, he became nettled at the re 
 proaches continually cast upon his fortress, of being a nestling- 
 place of rogues and contrabandistas. On a sudden, the old 
 potentate determined on reform, and setting vigorously to work, 
 ejected whole nests of vagabonds out of the fortress and the 
 gypsy caves with which the surrounding hills are jbpjQeycoinbe.d. 
 He sent out soldiers, also, to patrol the avenues and footpaths, 
 with orders to take up all suspicious persons. 
 
 One bright summer morning a patrol, consisting of the testy 
 old corporal who had distinguished himself in the affair of the 
 notary, a trumpeter, and two privates, was seated under the 
 garden-wall of the Generalife, beside the road which leads down 
 from the Mountain of the Sun, when they heard the tramp of 
 a horse, and a male voice singing in rough, though not un 
 musical tones, an old Castilian campaigning- song. 
 
 Presently they beheld a sturdy, sunburnt fellow, clad in the 
 ragged garb of a foot-soldier, leading a powerful Arabian horse 
 caparisoned in the ancient Morisco fashion. 
 
 Astonished at the sight of a strange soldier descending, steed 
 in hand, from that solitary mountain, the corporal stepped 
 forth and challenged him. 
 
THE SOLDIER AND THE PATROL 271 
 
 " Who goes there ? " 
 
 "A friend." 
 
 " Who and what are you ? " 
 
 " A poor soldier just from the wars, with a cracked crown 
 and empty purse for a reward." 
 
 By this time they were enabled to view him more narrowly. 
 He had a black patch across his forehead, which, with a griz 
 zled beard, added to a certain dare-devil cast of countenance, 
 while a slight squint threw into the whole an occasional gleam 
 of roguish good-humor. 
 
 Having answered the questions of the patrol, the soldier 
 seemed to consider himself entitled to make others in return. 
 " May I ask," said he, "what city is that which I see at the 
 foot of the hill? " 
 
 " What city ! " cried the trumpeter ; " come, that s too bad. 
 Here s a fellow lurking about the Mountain of the Sun, and de 
 mands the name of the great city of Granada ! " 
 
 " Granada ! Madre di Dios ! can it be possible ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not ! " rejoined the trumpeter ; " and perhaps 
 you have no idea that yonder are the towers of the Alham- 
 bra." 
 
 " Son of a trumpet," replied the stranger, "do not trifle with 
 me ; if this be indeed the Alhambra, I have some strange 
 matters to reveal to the governor." 
 
 "You will have an opportunity," said the corporal, "for we 
 mean to take you before him." By this time the trumpeter 
 had seized the bridle of the steed, the two privates had each 
 secured an arm of the soldier, the corporal put himself in front, 
 gave the word, " Forward march ! " and away they marched 
 for the Alhambra. 
 
 The sight of a ragged foot-soldier and a fine Arabian horse, 
 brought in captive by the patrol, attracted the attention of all the 
 idlers of the fortress, and of those gossip groups that generally 
 assemble about wells and fountains at early dawn. The 
 
272 THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 wheel of the cistern paused in its rotations, and the slip 
 shod servant-maid stood gaping, with pitcher in hand, as the 
 corporal passed by with his prize. A_motley train gradually 
 gathered in the rear of the escort. 
 
 Knowing nods and winks and conjectures passed from one to 
 another. "It is a deserter, 5 said one ; " A contrabandista," 
 said another; "A bandolero," said a third; until it was 
 affirmed that a captain of a desperate band of robbers had been 
 captured by the prowess of the corporal and his patrol. " Well, 
 well," said the old crones, one to another, " captain or not, let 
 him get out of the grasp of old Governor Manco if he can, 
 though he is but one-handed." 
 
 Governor Manco was seated in one of the inner halls of 
 the Alhambra, taking his morning s cup of chocolate in com 
 pany with his confessor, a fat Franciscan friar, from the 
 neighboring convent. A demure, dark-eyed damsel of Malaga, 
 the daughter of his housekeeper, was attending upon him. 
 The world hinted that the damsel, who, with all her demure- 
 ness, was a sly buxom baggage, had found out a soft spot 
 in the iron heart of the old governor, and held complete con- . 
 trol over him. But let that pass the domestic affairs of 
 these mighty potentates of the earth should not be too nar 
 rowly scrutinized. 
 
 When word was brought that a suspicious stranger had been 
 taken lurking about the fortress, and was actually in the outer 
 court, in durance of the corporal, waiting the pleasure of his 
 Excellency, the pride and stateliness of office swelled the bosom 
 of the governor. Giving back his chocolate-cup into the hands 
 of the demure damsel, he called for his basket-hilted sword, 
 girded it to his side, twirled up his moustaches, took his seat 
 in a large high-backed chair, assumed a bitter and forbidding 
 aspect, and ordered the prisoner into his presence. The soldier 
 was brought in, still closely pinioned by his captors, and 
 guarded by the corporal. He maintained, however, a resolute, 
 
A SOLDIER S STORY 273 
 
 self-confident air, and returned the sharp, scrutinizing look of 
 the governor with an easy squint, which by no means pleased 
 the punctilious old potentate. 
 
 " WellT^uIprit," said the governor, after he had regarded 
 him for a moment in silence, " what have you to say for your 
 self who are you 1 " 
 
 " A soldier, just from the wars, who has brought away noth 
 ing but scars and bruises." 
 
 " A soldier humph a foot-soldier by your garb. I 
 understand you have a fine Arabian horse. I presume you 
 brought him too from the wars, besides your scars and bruises." 
 
 "May it please your Excellency, I have something strange 
 to tell about that horse. Indeed I have one of the most 
 wonderful things to relate. Something too that concerns the 
 security of this fortress, indeed of all Granada. But it is a 
 matter to be imparted only to your private ear, or in presence 
 of such only as are in your confidence." 
 
 The governor considered for a moment, and then directed 
 the corporal and his men to withdraw, but to post themselves 
 outside of the door, and be ready at a call. " This holy friar," 
 said he, "is my confessor, you may say anything in his pres 
 ence; and this damsel," nodding towards the handmaid, 
 who had loitered with an air of great curiosity, " this damsel 
 is of great secrecy and discretion, and to be trusted with any 
 thing." 
 
 The soldier gave a glance between a squint and a leer at the 
 demure handmaid. "I am perfectly willing," said he, "that 
 the damsel should remain." 
 
 When all the rest had withdrawn, the soldier commenced his 
 story. He was a fluent, smooth-tongued varlet, and had a com 
 mand of language above his apparent rank. 
 
 "May it please your Excellency," said he, " I am, as I before 
 observed, a soldier, and have seen some hard service, but my term 
 of enlistment being expired, I was discharged, not long since, 
 
274 THE ALHAMBEA 
 
 from the army at Valladolid, and set out on foot for my native 
 village in Andalusia. Yesterday evening the sun went down as 
 I was traversing a great dry plain of Old Castile." 
 
 " Hold ! " cried the governor, " what is this you say? Old 
 Castile is some two or three hundred miles from this." 
 
 " Even so," replied the soldier, coolly. " I told your Excel 
 lency I had strange things to relate ; but not more strange than 
 true, as your Excellency will find, if you will deign me a patient 
 hearing." 
 
 " Proceed, culprit," said the governor, twirling up his mous 
 taches. 
 
 " As the sun went down," continued the soldier, " I cast my 
 eyes about in search of quarters for the night, but as far as my 
 sight could reach there were no signs of habitation. I saw that 
 I should have to make my bed on the naked plain, with my 
 knapsack for a pillow ; but your Excellency is an old soldier, 
 and knows that to one who has been in the wars, such a night s 
 lodging is no great hardship." 
 
 The governor nodded assent, as he drew his pocket-handker 
 chief out of the basket-hilt to drive away a fly that buzzed 
 about his nose. 
 
 "Well, to make a long story short," continued the soldier, 
 " I trudged forward for several miles until I came to a bridge 
 over a deep ravine, through which ran a little thread of water, 
 almost dried up by the summer heat. At one end of the bridge 
 was a Moorish tower, the upper end all in ruins, but a vault in 
 the foundation quite entire. Here, thinks I, is a good place to 
 make a halt ; so I went down to the stream, and took a hearty 
 drink, for the water was pure and sweet, and I was parched 
 with thirst ; then, opening my wallet, I took out an onion and 
 a few crusts, which were all my provisions, and seating myself 
 on a stone on the margin of the stream, began to make my sup 
 per, intending afterwards to quarter myself for the night in 
 the vault of the tower ; and capital quarters they would have 
 
THE MOORISH TROOPER 275 
 
 been for a campaigner just from the wars, as your Excellency, 
 who is an old soldier, may suppose. 7 
 
 " I have put up gladly with worse in my time," said the 
 governor, returning his pocket-handkerchief into the hilt of his 
 sword. 
 
 "While I was quietly crunching my crusts," pursued the sol 
 dier, "I heard something stir within the vault; I listened it 
 was the tramp of a horse. By-and-by a man came forth from a 
 door in the foundation of the tower, close by the water s edge, 
 leading a powerful horse by the bridle. I could not well make 
 out what he was, by the starlight. It had a suspicious look 
 to be lurking among the ruins of a tower, in that wild, solitary 
 place. He might be a mere wayfarer, like myself; he might 
 be a contrabandista ; he might be a bandolero ! what of that ? 
 thank heaven and my poverty, I had nothing to lose ; so I sat 
 still and crunched my crust. 
 
 " He led his horse to the water, close by where I was sitting, 
 so that I had a fair opportunity of i^cminpjtiia^ him. To my 
 surprise he was dressed in a Moorish garb, with a cuirass of 
 steel, and a polished skull-cap that I distinguished bytne re 
 flection of the stars upon it. His horse, too, was harnessed 
 in the Morisco fashion, with great shovel stirrups. He led 
 him, as I said, to the side of the stream, into which the animal 
 plunged his head almost to the eyes, and drank until I thought 
 he would have burst. 
 
 " Comrade, said I, your steed drinks well ; it s a good sign 
 when a horse plunges his muzzle bravely into the water. 
 
 " l He may well drink, said the stranger, speaking with a 
 Moorish accent ; it is a good year since he had his last draught. 
 
 " By Santiago, said I, that beats even the camels I have 
 seen in Africa. But come, you seem to be something of a sol 
 dier, will you sit down and take part of a soldier s fare ? In 
 fact, I felt the want of a companion in this lonely place, and 
 was willing to put up with an infidel. Besides, as your Excel- 
 
276 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 lency well knows, a soldier is never very particular about the 
 faith of his company, and soldiers of all countries are comrades 
 on peaceable grounds." 
 
 The governor again nodded assent. 
 
 " Well, as I was saying, I invited him to share my supper, 
 such as it was, for I could not do less in common hospitality. 
 I have no time to pause for meat or drink, said he, I have a 
 long journey to make before morning. 
 
 " * In what direction V said I. 
 
 " Andalusia, said he. 
 
 " Exactly my route, said I ; so, as you won t stop and eat 
 with me, perhaps you will let me mount and ride with you. I 
 see your horse is of a powerful frame ; I ll warrant he ll carry 
 double. 
 
 " Agreed/ said the trooper ; and it would not have been 
 civil and soldier-like to refuse, especialty as I had offered to share 
 my supper with him. So up he mounted, and up I mounted 
 behind him. 
 
 " Hold fast, said he, my steed goes like the wind. 
 
 " f Never fear me, said I, and so off we set. 
 
 " From a walk the horse soon passed to a trot, from a trot 
 to a gallop, and from a gallop to a harum-scarum scamper. It 
 seemed as if rocks, trees, houses, everything flew hurry-scurry 
 behind us. 
 
 " < What town is this ? said I. 
 
 " Segovia, said he; and before the word was out of his 
 mouth the towers of Segovia were out of sight. We swept 
 up the Guadarama mountains, and down by the Escurial ; and 
 we skirted the walls of Madrid, and we scoured away across the 
 plains of La Mancha. In this way we went up hill and down 
 dale, by towers and cities, all buried in deep sleep, and across 
 mountains, and plains, and rivers, just glimmering in the star 
 light. 
 
 " To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your Excel- 
 
THE ENCHANTED CAVERN 277 
 
 lency, the trooper suddenly pulled up on the side of a mountain. 
 * Here we are, said he, at the end of our journey. I looked 
 about, but could see no signs of habitation ; nothing but the 
 mouth of a cavern. While I looked I saw multitudes of people 
 in Moorish dresses, some on horseback, some on foot, arriving as 
 if borne by the wind from all points of the compass, and hurry 
 ing into the mouth of the cavern like bees into a hive. Before 
 I could ask a question, the trooper struck his long Moorish 
 spurs into the horse s flanks, and dashed in with the throng. 
 We passed along a steep winding way, that descended into the 
 very bowels of the mountain. As we pushed on, a light began 
 to glimmer up, by little and little, like the first glimmerings of 
 day, but what caused it I could not discern. It grew stronger 
 and stronger, and enabled me to see everything around. I now 
 noticed, as we passed along, great caverns, opening to the right 
 and left, like halls in an arsenal. In some there were shields, 
 and helmets, and cuirasses, and lances, and cimeters, hanging 
 against the walls ; in others there were great heaps of warlike 
 munitions and camp-equipage lying upon the ground. 
 
 " It would have done your Excellency s heart good, being an 
 old soldier, to have seen such grand provision for war. Then, 
 in other caverns, there were long rows of horsemen armed to 
 the teeth} with lances raised and banners unfurled, all ready for 
 the field; but they all sat motionless in their saddles, like so 
 many statues. In other halls were warriors sleeping on the 
 ground beside their horses, and foot-soldiers in groups ready to 
 fall into the ranks. All were in old-fashioned Moorish dresses 
 and armor. 
 
 "Well, your Excellency, to cut a long story short, we at 
 length entered an immense cavern, or I may say palace, of 
 grotto-work, the walls of which seemed to be veined with gold 
 and silver, and to sparkle with diamonds and sapphires and all 
 kinds of precious stones. At the upper end sat a Moorish king 
 on a golden throne, with his nobles on each side, and a guard 
 
278 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 of African blacks with drawn cimeters. All the crowd that 
 continued to flock in, and amounted to thousands and thousands, 
 passed one by one before his throne, each paying homage as he 
 passed. Some of the multitude were dressed in magnificent 
 robes, without stain or blemish, and sparkling with jewels; 
 others in burnished and enamelled armor; while others were 
 in mouldered and mildewed garments, and in armor all battered 
 and dented and covered with rust. 
 
 "I had hitherto held my tongue, for your Excellency well 
 knows it is not for a soldier to ask many questions when on 
 duty, but I could keep silent no longer. 
 
 " Prithee, comrade, said I, * what is the meaning of all 
 this? 
 
 " This, said the trooper, is a great and fearful mystery. 
 Know, Christian, that you see before you the court and army 
 of Boabdil, the last king of Granada/ 
 
 " What is this you tell me ? cried I. * Boabdil and his 
 court were exiled from the land hundreds of years agone, and 
 all died in Africa/ 
 
 " So it is recorded in your lying chronicles/ replied the Moor; 
 but know that Boabdil and the warriors who made the last 
 struggle for Granada were all shut up in the mountain by 
 powerful enchantment. As for the king and army thai; marched 
 forth from Granada at the time of the surrender, they were a 
 mere phantom train of spirits and demons, permitted to assume 
 those shapes to deceive the Christian sovereigns. And further 
 more let me tell you, friend, that all Spain is a country under 
 the power of enchantment. There is not a mountain cave, not 
 a lonely watch-tower in the plains, nor ruined castle on the 
 hills, but has some spellbound warriors sleeping from age to 
 age within its vaults, until the sins are QXjpjted for which 
 Allah permitted the dominion to pass for a~llme out of the 
 hands of the faithful. Once every year, on the eve of St. John, 
 they are released from enchantment, from sunset to sunrise, and 
 
THE ENCHANTED ARMY 279 
 
 permitted to repair here to pay homage to their sovereign ; and 
 the crowds which you beheld swarming into the cavern are 
 Moslem warriors from their haunts in all parts of Spain. For 
 my own part, you saw the ruined tower of the bridge in Old 
 Castile, where I have now wintered and summered for many 
 hundred years, and where I must be back again by daybreak. 
 As to the battalions of horse and foot which you beheld drawn 
 up in array in the neighboring caverns, they are the spellbound 
 warriors of Granada. It is written in the book of fate, that 
 when the enchantment is broken, Boabdil will descend from the 
 mountain at the head of this army, resume his throne in the 
 Alhambra and his sway of Granada, and gathering together 
 the enchanted warriors from all parts of Spain, will reconquer 
 the Peninsula and restore it to Moslem rule. 
 
 " And when shall this happen? said I. 
 
 " ( Allah alone knows : we had hoped the day of deliverance 
 was at hand ; but there reigns at present a vigilant governor in 
 the Alhambra, a stanch old soldier, well known as Governor 
 Manco. While such a warrior holds command of the very out 
 post, and stands ready to check the first irruption from the 
 mountain, I fear Boabdil and his soldiery must be content to 
 rest upon their arms. " 
 
 Here the governor raised himself somewhat perpendicularly, 
 adjusted his sword, and twirled up his moustaches. 
 
 " To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your Excel 
 lency, the trooper, having given me this account, dismounted 
 from his steed. 
 
 " Tarry here, said he, and guard my steed while I go and 
 bow the knee to Boabdil. So saying, he strode away among 
 the throng that pressed forward to the throne. 
 
 " What s to be done ? thought I, when thus left to myself; 
 1 shall I wait here until this infidel returns to whisk me off 
 on his goblin steed, the Lord knows where ; or shall I make 
 the most of my time and beat a retreat from this hobgoblin 
 
280 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 community? A soldier s mind is soon made up, as your 
 Excellency well knows. As to the horse, he belonged to an 
 avowed enemy of the faith and the realm, and was a fair prize 
 according to the rules of war. So hoisting myself from the 
 crupper into the saddle, I turned the reins, struck the Moorish 
 stirrups into the sides of the steed, and put him to make the 
 best of his way out of the passage by which he had entered. 
 As we scoured by the halls where the Moslem horsemen sat in 
 motionless battalions, I thought I heard the clang of armor and 
 a hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste of 
 the stirrups and doubled my speed. There was now a sound 
 behind me like a rushing blast ; I heard the clatter of a thou 
 sand hoofs ; a countless throng overtook me. I was borne 
 along in the press, and hurled forth from the mouth of the 
 cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms were swept off in 
 every direction by the four winds of heaven. 
 
 " In the whirl and confusion of the scene I was thrown 
 senseless to the earth. When I came to myself, I was lying 
 on the brow of a hill, with the Arabian steed standing beside 
 me; for in falling, my arm had slipped within the bridle, 
 which, I presume, prevented his whisking off to Old Castile. 
 
 "Your Excellency may easily judge of my surprise, on look 
 ing round, to behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs and other 
 proofs of a southern climate, and to see a great city below me, 
 with towers, and a grand cathedral. 
 
 " I descended the hill cautiously, leading my steed, for I was 
 afraid to mount him again, lest he should play me some slippery 
 trick. As I descended I met with your patrol, who let me into 
 the secret that it was Granada that lay before me, and that I 
 was actually under the walls of the Alhambra, the fortress of 
 the redoubted Governor Manco, the terror of all enchanted 
 Moslems. When I heard this, I determined at once to seek 
 your Excellency, to inform you of all that I had seen, and to 
 warn you of the perils that surround and undermine you, that 
 
A MOORISH PURSE 281 
 
 you may take measures in time to guard your fortress, and the 
 kingdom itself, from this intestine army that lurks in the very 
 bowels of the land." 
 
 " And prithee, friend, you who are a veteran campaigner, 
 and have seen so much service," said the governor, "how would 
 you advise me to proceed, in order to prevent this evil ? " 
 
 " It is not for a humble private of the ranks," said the soldier, 
 modestly, " to pretend to instruct a commander of your Excel 
 lency s sagacity, but it appears to me that your Excellency 
 might cause all the caves and entrances into the mountains to 
 be walled up with solid mason-work, so that Boabdil and his 
 army might be completely corked up in their subterranean 
 habitation. If the good father, too," added the soldier, rev 
 erently bowing to the friar, and devoutly crossing himself, 
 "would consecrate the barricadoes with his blessing, and put 
 up a few crosses and relics and images of saints, I think they 
 might withstand all the power of infidel enchantments." 
 
 " They doubtless would be of great avail," said the friar. 
 
 The governor now placed his arm akimbo, with his hand 
 resting on the hilt of his toledo, fixed his eye upon the soldier, 
 and gently wagging his head from one side to the other : 
 
 "So, friend," said he, "then you really suppose I am to be 
 gulled with this cock-and-bull story about enchanted mountains 
 and enchanted Moors ? Hark ye, culprit ! not another word. 
 An old soldier you may be, but you ll find you have an older 
 soldier to deal with, and one not easily outgeneral led." Ho ! 
 guards there ! put this fellow in irons." 
 
 The demure handmaid would have put in a word in favor of 
 the prisoner, but the governor silenced her with a look. 
 
 As they were pinioning the soldier, one of the guards felt 
 something of bulk in his pocket, and drawing it forth, found a 
 long leathern purse that appeared to be well filled. Holding it 
 by one corner, he turned out the contents upon the table before 
 the governor, and never did freebooter s bag make more 
 
282 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 gorgeous delivery. Out tumbled rings, and jewels, and rosaries 
 of pearls, and sparkling diamond crosses, and a profusion of 
 ancient golden coin, some of which fell jingling to the floor, and 
 rolled away to the uttermost parts of the chamber. 
 
 For a time the functions of justice were suspended ; there 
 was a universal scramble after the glittering fugitives. The 
 governor alone, who was imbued with true Spanish pride, 
 maintained his stately decorum, though his eye betrayed a 
 little anxiety until the last coin and jewel was restored to the 
 sack. 
 
 The friar was not so calm ; his whole face glowed like a 
 furnace, and his eyes twinkled and flashed at the sight of 
 rosaries and crosses. 
 
 " Sacrilegious wretch that thou art ! " exclaimed he ; " what 
 church or sanctuary hast thou been plundering of these sacred 
 relics?" 
 
 " Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they be sacri 
 legious spoils, they must have been taken, in times long past, 
 by the infidel trooper I have mentioned. I was just going to 
 tell his Excellency when he interrupted me, that, on taking 
 possession of the trooper s horse, I unhooked a leathern sack 
 which hung at the saddle-bow, and which I presume contained 
 the plunder of his campaignings in days of old, when the Moors 
 overran the country." 
 
 " Mighty well ; at present you will make up your mind to 
 take up your quarters in a chamber of the vermilion tower, 
 which, though not under a magic spell, will hold you as safe as 
 any cave of your enchanted Moors." 
 
 "Your Excellency will do as you think proper," said the pris 
 oner, coolly. " I shall be thankful to your Excellency for any 
 accommodation in the fortress. A soldier who has been in the 
 wars, as your Excellency well knows, is not particular about his 
 lodgings. Provided I have a snug dungeon and regular rations, 
 I shall manage to make myself comfortable. I would only en- 
 
A SOLDIER S QUARTERS 283 
 
 treat that while your Excellency is so careful about me, you 
 would have an eye to your fortress, and think on the hint I 
 dropped about stopping up the entrances to the mountain." 
 
 Here ended the scene. The prisoner was conducted to a 
 strong dungeon in the vermilion tower, the Arabian steed was 
 led to his Excellency s stable, and the trooper s sack was de 
 posited in his Excellency s strong box. To the latter, it is true, 
 the friar made some demur, questioning whether the sacred relics, 
 which were evidently sacrilegious spoils, should not be placed in 
 custody of the church ; but as the governor was peremptory on 
 the subject, and was absolute lord in the Alhambra, the friar 
 discreetly dropped the discussion, but determined to convey in 
 telligence of the fact to the church dignitaries in Granada. 
 
 To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part of 
 old Governor Manco, it is proper to observe, that about this 
 time the Alpuxarra mountains in the neighborhood of Granada 
 were terribly infested by a gang of robbers, under the command 
 of a daring chief named Manuel Borasco, who were accustomed 
 to prowl about the country, and even to enter the city in vari 
 ous disguises, to gain intelligence of the departure of convoys 
 of merchandise, or travellers with well-lined purses, whom they 
 took care to waylay in distant and solitary passes of the road. 
 These repeated and daring outrages had awakened the attention 
 of government, and the commanders of the various posts had 
 received instructions to be on the alert, and to take up all suspi 
 cious stragglers. Governor Manco was particularly zealous in 
 consequence of the various stigmas that had been cast upon his 
 fortress, and he now doubted not he had entrapped some formi 
 dable desperado of this gang. 
 
 In the meantime the story took wind, and became the talk, 
 not merely of the fortress, but of the whole city of Granada. 
 It was said that the noted robber Manuel Borasco, the terror 
 of the Alpuxarras, had fallen into the clutches of old Governor 
 Manco, and been cooped up by him in a dungeon of the ver- 
 
284 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 mil ion towers ; and every one who had been robbed by him 
 flocked to recognize the marauder. The vermilion towers, as is 
 well known, stand apart from the Alhambra on a sister hill, 
 separated from the main fortress by the ravine down which passes 
 the main avenue. There were no outer walls, but a sentinel 
 patrolled before the tower. The window of the chamber in 
 which the soldier was confined was strongly grated, and looked 
 upon a small esplanade. Here the good folks of Granada repaired 
 to gaze at him, as they would at a laughing hyena, grinning 
 through the cage of a menagerie. Nobody, however, recognized 
 him for Manuel Borasco, for that terrible robber was noted for 
 a ferocious physiognomy, and had by no means the good-humored 
 squint of the prisoner. Visitors came not merely from the city, 
 but from all parts of the country ; but nobody knew him, and 
 there began to be doubts in the minds of the common people 
 whether there might not be some truth in his story. That 
 Boabdil and his army were shut up in the mountain, was an old 
 tradition which many of the ancient inhabitants had heard from 
 their fathers. Numbers went up to the Mountain of the Sun, 
 or rather of St. Elena, in search of the cave mentioned by the 
 soldier ; and saw and peeped into the deep dark pit, descending, 
 no one knows how far, into the mountain, and which remains 
 there to this day the fabled entrance to the subterranean 
 abode of Boabdil. 
 
 By degrees the soldier became popular with the common peo 
 ple. A freebooter of the mountains is by no means the oppro 
 brious character in Spain that a robber is in any other country ; 
 on the contrary, he is a kind of chivalrous personage in the eyes 
 of the lower classes. There is always a disposition, also, to 
 cavil at the conduct of those in command ; and many began to 
 murmur at the high-handed measures of old Governor Manco, 
 and to look upon the prisoner in the light of a martyr. 
 
 The soldier, moreover, was a merry, waggish fellow, that had 
 a joke for every one who came near his window, and a soft 
 
MANUEL BORASCO 285 
 
 speech for every female. He had procured an old guitar also, 
 and would sit by his window and sing ballads and love-ditties 
 to the delight of the women of the neighborhood, who would 
 assemble on the esplanade in the evening and dance boleros to 
 his music. Having trimmed off his rough beard, his sunburnt 
 face found favor in the eyes of the fair, and the demure hand 
 maid of the governor declared that his squint was perfectly 
 irresistible. This kind-hearted damsel had from the first evinced 
 a deep sympathy in his fortunes, and having in vain tried to 
 mollify the governor, had set to work privately to mitigate the 
 rigor of his dispensations. Every day she brought the prisoner 
 some crumbs of comfort which had fallen from the governor s 
 table, or been abstracted from his larder, together with, now 
 and then, a consoling bottle of choice Val de Peuas, or rich 
 Malaga. 
 
 While this petty treason was going on in the very centre of 
 the old governor s citadel, a storm of open war was brewing up 
 among his external foes. The circumstance of a bag of gold 
 and jewels having been found upon the person of the supposed 
 robber, had been reported, with many exaggerations, in Granada. 
 A question of territorial jurisdiction was immediately started by 
 the governor s inveterate rival, the captain-general. He insisted 
 that the prisoner had been captured without the precincts of the 
 Alhambra, and within the rules of his authority. He demanded 
 his body therefore, and the spolia opima taken with him. Due 
 information having been carried likewise by the friar to- the grand 
 inquisitor of the crosses and rosaries, and other relics contained 
 in the bag, he claimed the culprit as having been guilty of sacri 
 lege, and insisted that his plunder was due to the church, and his 
 body to the next auto-de-fe. The feuds ran high ; the governor 
 was furious, and swore, rather than surrender his captive, he 
 would hang him up within the Alhambra, as a spy caught within 
 the purlieus of the fortress. 
 
 The captain -general threatened to send a body of soldiers to 
 
286 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 transfer the prisoner from the vermilion tower to the city. The 
 grand inquisitor was equally bent upon dispatching a number 
 of the familiars of the Holy Office. Word was brought late at 
 night to the governor of these machinations. " Let them come," 
 said he, " they 11 find me beforehand with them; he must rise 
 bright and early who would take in an old soldier." He accord 
 ingly issued orders to have the prisoner removed, at daybreak, 
 to the donjon-keep within the walls of the Alharnbra. " And 
 d ye hear, child," said he to his demure handmaid, " tap at my 
 door, and wake me before cock-crowing, that I may see to the 
 matter myself." 
 
 The day dawned, the cock crowed, but nobody tapped at the 
 door of the governor. The sun rose high above the mountain- 
 tops, and glittered in at his casement, ere the governor was 
 awakened from bis morning dreams by his veteran corporal, 
 who stood before him with terror stamped upon his iron visage. 
 
 " He s off ! he s gone ! " cried the corporal, gasping for breath. 
 
 "Who s off who s gone?" 
 
 "The soldier the robber the devil, for aught I know; 
 his dungeon is empty, but the door locked: no one knows how 
 he has escaped out of it." 
 
 "Who saw him last?" 
 
 "Your handmaid; she brought him his supper." 
 
 " Let her be called instantly." 
 
 Here was new matter of confusion. The chamber of the 
 demure damsel was likewise empty, her bed had not been slept 
 in: she had doubtless gone off with the culprit, as she had 
 appeared, for some days past, to have frequent conversations 
 with him. 
 
 This was wounding the old governor in a tender part, but 
 he had scarce time to wince at it, when new misfortunes broke 
 upon his view. On going into his cabinet he found his strong 
 box open, the leather purse of the trooper abstracted, and with 
 it a couple of corpulent bags of doubloons. 
 
A FETE IN THE ALHAMBEA 287 
 
 But how, and which way had the fugitives escaped? An old 
 peasant who lived in a cottage by the road-side leading up into 
 the Sierra declared that he had heard the tramp of a powerful 
 steed just before daybreak, passing up into the mountains. He 
 had looked out at his casement, and could just distinguish a 
 horseman, with a female seated before him. 
 
 " Search the stables ! " cried Governor Manco. The stables 
 w T ere searched; all the horses were in their stalls, excepting the 
 Arabian steed. In his place was a stout cudgel, tied to the 
 manger, and on it a label bearing these words, "A Gift to 
 Governor Manco, from an Old Soldier." 
 
 A FETE IN THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 THE Saint s day of my neighbor and rival potentate, the 
 count, took place during his sojourn in the Alhambra, on which 
 occasion he gave a domestic fete ; assembling round him the 
 members of his family and household, while the stewards and 
 old servants from his distant possessions came to pay him rev 
 erence and partake of the good cheer which was sure to be pro 
 vided. It presented a type, though doubtless a faint one, of 
 the establishment of a Spanish noble in the olden time. 
 
 The Spaniards were always grandiose in their notions of style. 
 Huge palaces ; lumbering equipages, laden with footmen and 
 lackeys ; pompous retinues, and useless dependents of all kinds ; 
 the dignity of a noble seemed commensurate with the legions 
 who loitered about his halls, fed at his expense, and seemed 
 ready to devour him alive. This, doubtless, originated in the 
 necessity of keeping up hosts of armed retainers during the wars 
 with the Moors ; wars of inroads and surprises ; when a noble 
 was liable to be suddenly assailed in his castle by a foray of the 
 enemy, or summoned to the field by his sovereign. 
 
 The custom remained after the wars were at an end ; and what 
 
288 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 originated in necessity was kept up through ostentation. The 
 wealth which flowed into the country from conquests and dis 
 coveries fostered the passion for the princely establishments. 
 According to magnificent old Spanish usage, in which pride and 
 generosity bore equal parts, a superannuated servant was never 
 turned off, but became a charge for the rest of his days ; nay, 
 his children, and his children s children, and often their relatives, 
 to the right and left, became gradually entailed upon the family. 
 Hence the huge palaces of the Spanish nobility, which have 
 such an air of empty ostentation from the greatness of their 
 size compared with the mediocrity and scantiness of their fur 
 niture, were absolutely required, in the golden days of Spain, 
 by the patriarchal habits of their possessors. They were little 
 better than vast barracks for their hereditary generations of 
 hangers-on that battened at the expense of a Spanish noble. 
 
 These patriarchal habits of the Spanish nobility have declined 
 with their revenues ; though the spirit which prompted them 
 remains, and wars sadly with their altered fortunes. The poor 
 est among them have always some hereditary hangers-on, who 
 live at their expense, and make them poorer. Some who, like 
 my neighbor the count, retain a modicum of their once princely 
 possessions, keep up a shadow of the ancient system, and their 
 estates are overrun, and the produce consumed by generations 
 of idle retainers. 
 
 The count held estates in various parts of the kingdom, some 
 including whole villages ; yet the revenues collected from them 
 were comparatively small ; some of them, he assured me, barely 
 fed the hordes of dependents nestled upon them, who seemed 
 to consider themselves entitled to live rent-free and be main 
 tained into the bargain, because their forefathers had been so 
 since time immemorial. 
 
 The Saint s day of the old count gave me a glimpse into a 
 Spanish interior. For two or three days previous preparations 
 were made for the fete. Viands of all kinds were brought up 
 
LA NINA 289 
 
 from town, greeting the olfactory nerves of the old invalid 
 guards, as they were borne past them through the Gate of Jus 
 tice. Servants hurried officiously about the courts ; the ancient 
 kitchen of the palace was again alive with the tread of cooks 
 and scullions, and blazed with unwonted fires. 
 
 When the day arrived I beheld the old count in patriarchal 
 state, his family and household around him, with functionaries 
 who mismanaged his estates at a distance and consumed the pro 
 ceeds ; while numerous old worn-out servants and pensioners 
 were loitering about the courts and keeping within smell of the 
 kitchen. 
 
 It was a joyous day in the Alhambra. The guests dispersed 
 themselves about the palace before the hour of dinner, enjoying 
 the luxuries of its courts and fountains, and embosomed gardens, 
 and music and laughter resounded through its late silent halls. 
 
 The feast, for a set dinner in Spain is literally a feast, was 
 served in the beautiful Morisco Hall of " Las dos Hermanas." 
 The table was loaded with all the luxuries of the season : there 
 was an almost interminable succession of dishes ; showing how 
 truly the feast at the rich Cainachos wedding in " Don Quixote " 
 was a picture of a Spanish banquet. A joyous conviviality pre 
 vailed round the board ; for though Spaniards are generally ab 
 stemious, they are complete revellers on occasions like the 
 present, and none more so than the Andalusians. For my part, 
 there was something peculiarly exciting in thus sitting at a feast 
 in the royal halls of the Alhambra, given by one who might claim 
 remote affinity with its Moorish kings, and who was a lineal rep 
 resentative of Gonsalvo of Cordova, one of the most distinguished 
 of the Christian conquerors. 
 
 The banquet ended, the company adjourned to the Hall of 
 Ambassadors. Here every one endeavored to contribute to the 
 general amusement, singing, improvising, telling wonderful tales, 
 or dancing popular dances to that all-pervading talisman of 
 Spanish pleasure, the guitar. 
 
290 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 The count s gifted little daughter was as usual the life and 
 delight of the assemblage, and I was more than ever struck 
 with her aptness and wonderful versatility. She took a part 
 in two or three scenes of elegant comedy with some of her com 
 panions, and performed them with exquisite point and finished 
 grace ; she gave imitations of the popular Italian singers, some 
 serious, some comic, with a rare quality of voice, and, I was as 
 sured, with singular fidelity ; she imitated the dialects, dances, 
 ballads, and movements and manners of the gypsies and the 
 peasants of the Vega with equal felicity; but everything was 
 done with an all-pervading grace and a ladylike tact perfectly 
 fascinating. 
 
 The great charm of everything she did was its freedom from 
 pretension or ambitious display, its happy spontaneity. Every 
 thing sprang from the impulse of the moment ; or was in prompt 
 compliance with a request. She seemed unconscious of the rarity 
 and extent of her own talent, and was like a child at home rev 
 elling in the buoyancy of its own gay and innocent spirits. In 
 deed I was told she had never exerted her talents in general 
 society, but only, as at present, in the domestic circle. 
 
 Her faculty of observation and her perception of character 
 must have been remarkably quick, for she could have had only 
 casual and transient glances at the scenes, manners, and customs 
 depicted with such truth and spirit. " Indeed it is a continual 
 wonder to us," said the countess, "where the child (la Nina) 
 has picked up these things, her life being passed almost entirely 
 at home, in the bosom of the family." 
 
 Evening approached; twilight began to throw its shadows 
 about the halls, and the bats to steal forth from their lurking- 
 place and flit about. A notion seized the little damsel and some 
 of her youthful companions, to set out, under the guidance of 
 Dolores, and explore the less frequented parts of the palace in 
 quest of mysteries and enchantments. Thus conducted, they 
 peeped fearfully into the gloomy old mosque, but quick drew 
 
THE VAULTED PASSAGE 291 
 
 back on being told that a Moorish king had been murdered 
 there ; they ventured into the mysterious regions of the bath, 
 frightening themselves with the sounds and murmurs of hidden 
 aqueducts, and flying with mock panic at the alarm of phantom 
 Moors. They then undertook the adventure of the Iron Gate, 
 a place of baleful note in the Alhambra. It is a postern gate, 
 opening into a dark ravine ; a narrow covered way leads down 
 to it, which used to be the terror of Dolores and her playmates 
 in childhood, as it was said a hand without a body would some 
 times be stretched out from the wall and seize hold of the 
 passers-by. 
 
 The little party of enchantment-hunters ventured to the 
 entrance of the covered way, but nothing would tempt them to 
 enter, in this hour of gathering gloom ; they dreaded the grasp 
 of the phantom arm. 
 
 At length they came running back into the Hall of Ambassa 
 dors in a mock paroxysm of terror : they had positively seen 
 two spectral figures all in white. They had not stopped to ex 
 amine them ; but could not be mistaken, for they glared dis 
 tinctly through the surrounding gloom. Dolores soon arrived 
 and explained the mystery. The spectres proved to be two 
 statues of nymphs in white marble, placed at the entrance of a 
 vaulted passage. Upon this a grave, but, as I thought, some 
 what sly old gentleman present, who, I believe, was the count s 
 advocate or legal adviser, assured them that these statues were 
 connected with one of the greatest mysteries of the Alhambra ; 
 that there was a curious history concerning them, and, more 
 over, that they stood a living monument in marble of female 
 secrecy and discretion. All present entreated him to tell the 
 history of the statues. He took a little time to recollect the 
 details, and then gave them in substance the following legend. 
 
292 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES 
 
 THERE lived once in a waste apartment of the Alhambra a 
 merry little fellow, named Lope Sanchez, who worked in the 
 gardens, and was as brisk and as blithe as a grasshopper, sing 
 ing all day long. He was the life and soul of the fortress ; 
 when his work was over, he would sit on one of the stone 
 benches of the esplanade, strum his guitar, and sing long ditties 
 about the Cid, and Bernardo del Carpio, and Fernando del 
 Pulgar, and other Spanish heroes, for the amusement of the old 
 soldiers of the fortress ; or would strike up a merrier tune, and 
 set the girls dancing boleros and fandangos. 
 
 Like most little men, Lope Sanchez had a strapping buxom 
 dame for a wife, who could almost have put him in her pocket ; 
 but he lacked the usual poor man s lot instead of ten chil 
 dren he had but one. This was a little black-eyed girl about 
 twelve years of age, named Sanchica, who was as merry as him 
 self, and the delight of his heart. She played about him as he 
 worked in the gardens, danced to his guitar as he sat in the 
 shade, and ran as wild as a young fawn about the groves and 
 alleys and ruined halls of the Alhambra. 
 
 It was now the eve of the blessed St. John, and the holiday- 
 loving gossips of the Alhambra, men, women, and children, 
 went up at night to the Mountain of the Sun, which rises above 
 the Generalife, to keep their midsummer vigil on its level 
 summit. It was a bright moonlight night, and all the moun 
 tains were gray and silvery, and the city, with its domes and 
 spires, lay in shadows below, and the Yega was like a fairy 
 land, with haunted streams gleaming among its dusky groves. 
 On the highest part of the mountain they lit up a bonfire, 
 according to an old custom of the country handed down from 
 the Moors. The inhabitants of the surrounding country were 
 keeping a similar vigil, and bonfires, here and there in the 
 
THE JET HAND 293 
 
 Vega, and along the folds of the mountains, blazed up palely in 
 the moonlight. 
 
 The evening was gayly passed in dancing to the guitar of 
 Lope Sanchez, who was never so joyous as when on a holiday 
 revel of the kind. While the dance was going on, the little 
 Sanchica with some of her playmates sported among the ruins 
 of an old Moorish fort that crowns the mountain, when, in 
 gathering pebbles in the fosse, she found a small hand curi 
 ously carved of jet, the fingers closed, and the thumb firmly 
 clasped upon them. Overjoyed with her good fortune, she ran 
 to her mother with her prize. It immediately became a sub 
 ject of sage speculation, and was eyed by some with supersti 
 tious distrust. " Throw it away," said one ; " it s Moorish, 
 depend upon it, there s mischief and witchcraft in it." " By 
 no means," said another; "you may sell it for something to 
 the jewellers of the Zacatin." In the midst of this discussion 
 an old tawny soldier drew near, who had served in Africa, and 
 was as swarthy as a Moor. He examined the hand with a 
 knowing look. "I have seen things of this kind," said he, 
 "among the Moors of Barbary. It is a great virtue to 
 guard against the evil eye, and all kinds of spells and enchant 
 ments. I give you joy, friend Lope, this bodes good luck to 
 your child." 
 
 Upon hearing this, the wife of Lope Sanchez tied the little 
 hand of jet to a ribbon, and hung it round the neck of her 
 daughter. 
 
 The sight of this talisman called up all the favorite supersti 
 tions about the Moors. The dance was neglected, and they 
 sat in groups on the ground, telling old legendary tales handed 
 down from their ancestors. Some of their stories turned upon 
 the wonders of the very mountain upon which they were 
 seated, which is a famous hobgoblin region. One ancient 
 crone gave a long account of the subterranean palace in the 
 bowels of that mountain where Boabdil and all his Moslem 
 
294 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 court are said to remain enchanted. "Among yonder ruins," 
 said she, pointing to some crumbling walls and mounds of 
 earth on a distant part of the mountain, "there is a deep 
 black pit that goes down, down into the very heart of the 
 mountain. For all the money in Granada I would not look 
 down into it. Once upon a time a poor man of the Alhambra, 
 who tended goats upon this mountain, scrambled down into that 
 pit after a kid that had fallen in. He came out again all wild 
 and staring, and told such things of what he had seen, that 
 every one thought his brain was turned. He raved for a clay 
 or two about the hobgoblin Moors that had pursued him in the 
 cavern, and could hardly be persuaded to drive his goats up 
 again to the mountain. He did so at last, but, poor man, he 
 never came down again. The neighbors found his goats brows 
 ing about the Moorish ruins, and his hat and mantle lying near 
 the mouth of the pit, but he was never more heard of." 
 
 The little Sanchica listened with breathless attention to this 
 story. She was of a curious nature, and felt immediately a 
 great hankering to peep into this dangerous pit. Stealing away 
 from her companions, she sought the distant ruins, and, after 
 groping for some time among them, came to a small hollow, 
 or basin, near the brow of the mountain, where it swept steeply 
 down into the valley of the Darro. In the centre of this basin 
 yawned the mouth of the pit. Sanchica ventured to the verge, 
 and peeped in. All was as black as pitch, and gave an idea of 
 immeasurable depth. Her blood ran cold ; she drew back, then 
 peeped in again, then would have run away, then took another 
 peep, the very horror of the thing was delightful to her. At 
 length she rolled a large stone, and pushed it over the brink. 
 For some time it fell in silence ; then struck some rocky pro 
 jection with a violent crash ; then rebounded from side to side, 
 rumbling and tumbling, with a noise like thunder; then made 
 a final splash into water, far, far below, and all was again 
 silent. 
 
THE BLACK PIT 295 
 
 The silence, however, did not long continue. It seemed as if 
 something had been awakened within this dreary abyss. A 
 murmuring sound gradually rose out of the pit like the hum 
 and buzz of a beehive. It grew louder and louder, there was the 
 confusion of voices as of a distant multitude, together with the 
 faint din of arms, clash of cymbals and clangor of trumpets, as if 
 some army were marshalling for battle in the very bowels of 
 the mountain. 
 
 The child drew off with silent awe, and hastened back to the 
 place where she had left her parents and their companions. All 
 were gone. The bonfire was expiring, and its last wreath of 
 smoke curling up in the moonshine. The distant fires that had 
 blazed along the mountains and in the Vega were all extinguished, 
 and everything seemed to have sunk to repose. Sanchica called 
 her parents and some of her companions by name, but received 
 no reply. She ran down the side of the mountain, and by the 
 gardens of the Generalife, until she arrived in the alley of trees 
 leading to the Alhambra, when she seated herself on a bench 
 of a woody recess, to recover breath. The bell from the watch- 
 tower of the Alhambra tolled midnight. There was a deep 
 tranquillity as if all nature slept ; excepting the low tinkling 
 sound of an unseen stream that ran under the covert of the bushes. 
 The breathing sweetness of the atmosphere was lulling her to 
 sleep, when her eye was caught by something glittering at a 
 distance, and to her surprise she beheld a long cavalcade of 
 Moorish warriors pouring down the mountain-side and along the 
 leafy avenues. Some were armed with lances and shields; 
 others, with cimeters and battle-axes, and with polished cui 
 rasses that flashed in the moonbeams. Their horses pranced 
 proudly and champed upon their bits, but their tramp caused 
 no more sound than if they had been shod with felt, and the 
 riders were all as pale as death. Among them rode a beautiful 
 lady, with a crowned head and long golden locks entwined with 
 pearls. The housings of her palfrey were of crimson velvet 
 
296 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 embroidered with gold, and swept the earth ; but she rode all 
 disconsolate, with eyes ever fixed upon the ground. 
 
 Then succeeded a train of courtiers magnificently arrayed in 
 robes and turbans of divers colors, and amidst them, on a cream- 
 colored charger, rode king Boabdil el Chico, in a royal mantle 
 covered with jewels, and a crown sparkling with diamonds. 
 The little Sanchica knew him by his yellow beard, and his re 
 semblance to his portrait, which she had often seen in the 
 picture gallery of the Generalife. She gazed in wonder and 
 admiration at this royal pageant, as it passed glistening among 
 the trees ; but though she knew these monarchs and courtiers 
 and warriors, so pale and silent, were out of the common course 
 of nature, and things of magic and enchantment, yet she looked 
 on with a bold heart, such courage did she derive from the 
 mystic talisman of the hand, which was suspended about her 
 neck. 
 
 The cavalcade having passed by, she rose and followed. It 
 continued on to the great Gate of Justice, which stood wide open ; 
 the old invalid sentinels on duty lay on the stone benches of the 
 barbican, buried in profound and apparently charmed sleep, and 
 the phantom pageant swept noiselessly by them with flaunting 
 banner and triumphant state. Sanchica would have followed ; 
 but to her surprise she beheld an opening in the earth, within 
 the barbican, leading down beneath the foundations of the tower. 
 She entered for a little distance, and was encouraged to pro 
 ceed by finding steps rudely hewn in the rock, and a vaulted 
 passage here and there lit up by a silver lamp, which, while it 
 gave light, diffused likewise a grateful fragrance. Venturing on, 
 she came at last to a great hall, wrought out of the heart of the 
 mountain, magnificently furnished in the Moorish style, and 
 lighted up by silver and crystal lamps. Here, on an ottoman, 
 sat an old man in Moorish dress, with a long white beard, nod 
 ding and dozing, with a staff in his hand, which seemed ever to 
 be slipping from his grasp ; while at a little distance sat a 
 
THE SUBTERRANEAN HALL 297 
 
 beautiful lady, in ancient Spanish dress, with a coronet all 
 sparkling with diamonds, and her hair entwined with pearls, 
 who was softly playing on a silver lyre. The little Sanchica 
 now recollected a story she had heard among the old people of 
 the Alhambra, concerning a Gothic princess confined in the 
 centre of the mountain by an old Arabian magician, whom she 
 kept bound up in magic sleep by the power of music. 
 
 The lady paused with surprise at seeing a mortal in that en 
 chanted hall. " Is it the eve of the blessed St. John ? " said 
 she. 
 
 "It is," replied Sanchica. 
 
 " Then for one night the magic charm is suspended. Come 
 hither, child, and fear not. I am a Christian like thyself, though 
 bound here by enchantment. Touch my fetters with the talis 
 man that hangs about thy neck, and for this night I shall be 
 free." 
 
 So saying, she opened her robes and displayed a broad golden 
 band round her waist, and a golden chain that fastened her to 
 the ground. The child hesitated not to apply the little hand of 
 jet to the golden band, and immediately the chain fell to the 
 earth. At the sound the old man woke and began to rub his 
 eyes ; but the lady ran her fingers over the chords of the lyre, 
 and again he fell into a slumber and began to nod, and his staff 
 to falter in his hand. "Now," said the lady, "touch his staff 
 with the talismanic hand of jet." The child did so, and it fell 
 from his grasp, and he sank in a deep sleep on the ottoman. 
 The lady gently laid the silver lyre on the ottoman, leaning it 
 against the head of the sleeping magician ; then touching the 
 chords until they vibrated in his ear, "0 potent spirit of 
 harmony," said she, "continue thus to hold his senses in thral 
 dom till the return of day. Now follow me, my child," con 
 tinued she, " and thou shalt behold the Alhambra as it was in 
 the days of its glory, for thou hast a magic talisman that reveals 
 all enchantments." Sanchica followed the lady in silence, 
 
298 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 They passed up through the entrance of the cavern into the 
 barbican of the Gate of Justice, and thence to the Plaza de los 
 Algibes, or esplanade within the fortress. 
 
 This was all filled with Moorish soldiery, horse and foot, 
 marshalled in squadrons, with banners displayed. There were 
 royal guards also at the portal, and rows of African blacks with 
 drawn cimeters. No one spoke a word, and Sanchica passed 
 on fearlessly after her conductor. Her astonishment increased 
 on entering the royal palace, in which she had been reared. 
 The broad moonshine lit up all the halls and courts and gardens 
 almost as brightly as if it were day, but revealed a far different 
 scene from that to which she was accustomed. The walls of 
 the apartments were no longer stained and rent by time. In 
 stead of cobwebs, they were now hung with rich silks of 
 Damascus, and the gildings and arabesque paintings were re 
 stored to their original brilliancy and freshness. The halls, no 
 longer naked and unfurnished, were set out with divans and 
 ottomans of the rarest stuffs, embroidered with pearls and 
 studded with precious gems, and all the fountains in the courts 
 and gardens were playing. 
 
 The kitchens were again in full operation : cooks were busy 
 preparing shadowy dishes, and roasting and boiling the phan 
 toms of pullets and partridges ; servants were hurrying to and 
 fro with silver dishes heaped up with dainties, and arranging a 
 delicious banquet. The Court of Lions was thronged with 
 guards, and courtiers, and alfaquis, as in the old times of the 
 Moors ; and at the upper end, in the saloon of judgment, sat 
 Boabdil on his throne, surrounded by his court, and swaying a 
 shadowy sceptre for the night. Notwithstanding all this throng 
 and seeming bustle, not a voice nor a footstep was to be heard ; 
 nothing interrupted the midnight silence but the splashing of 
 the fountains. The little Sanchica followed her conductress in 
 mute amazement about the palace, until they came to a portal 
 opening to the vaulted passages beneath the great tower of 
 
THE MYRTLE WREATH 299 
 
 Comares. On each side of the portal sat the figure of a nymph, 
 wrought out of alabaster. Their heads were turned aside, and 
 their regards fixed upon the same spot within the vault. The 
 enchanted lady paused, and beckoned the child to her. " Here," 
 said she, " is a great secret, which I will reveal to thee in re 
 ward for thy faith and courage. These discreet statues watch 
 over a treasure hidden in old times by a Moorish king. Tell 
 thy father to search the spot on which their eyes are fixed, and 
 he will find what will make him richer than any man in Granada. 
 Thy innocent hands alone, however, gifted as thou art also 
 with the talisman, can remove the treasure. Bid thy father 
 use it discreetly, and devote a part of it to the performance of 
 daily masses for my deliverance from this unholy enchantment." 
 
 When the lady had spoken these words, she led the child on 
 ward to the little garden of Lindaraxa, which is hard by the 
 vault of the statues. The moon trembled upon the waters of 
 the solitary fountain in the centre of the garden, and shed a 
 tender light upon the orange and citron trees. The beautiful 
 lady plucked a branch of myrtle and wreathed it round the head 
 of the child. "Let this be a memento," said she, " of what I 
 have revealed to thee, and a testimonial of its truth. My hour 
 is come ; I must return to the enchanted hall ; follow me not, 
 lest evil befall thee ; farewell. Remember what I have said, 
 and have masses performed for my deliverance." So saying, 
 the lady entered a dark passage leading beneath the tower of 
 Comares, and was no longer seen. 
 
 The faint crowing of a c&ck was now heard from the cottages 
 below the Alhambra, in the valley of the Darro, and a pale 
 streak of light began to appear above the eastern mountains. 
 A slight wind arose ; there was a sound like the rustling of dry 
 leaves through the courts and corridors, and door after door shut 
 to with a jarring sound. 
 
 Sanchica returned to the scenes she had so lately beheld 
 thronged with the shadowy multitude, but Boabdil and his phan- 
 
300 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 torn court were gone. The moon shone into empty halls and 
 galleries stripped of their transient splendor, stained and dilapi 
 dated by time, and hung with cobwebs. The bat flitted about 
 in the uncertain light, and the frog croaked from the fish-pond. 
 
 Sanchica now made the best of her way to a remote staircase 
 that led up to the humble apartment occupied by her family. 
 The door as usual was open, for Lope Sanchez was too poor to 
 need bolt or bar ; she crept quietly to her pallet, and, putting 
 the myrtle wreath beneath her pillow, soon fell asleep. 
 
 In the morning she related all that had befallen her to her 
 father. Lope Sanchez, however, treated the whole as a mere 
 dream, and laughed at the child for her credulity. He went 
 forth to his customary labors in the garden, but had not been 
 there long when his little daughter came running to him almost 
 breathless. " Father ! father ! " cried she, " behold the myrtle 
 wreath which the Moorish lady bound round my head ! " 
 
 Lope Sanchez gazed with astonishment, for the stalk of the 
 myrtle was of pure gold, and every leaf was a sparkling emerald ! 
 Being not much accustomed to precious stones, he was ignorant 
 of the real value of the wreath, but he saw enough to convince 
 him that it was something more substantial than the stuff of 
 which dreams are generally made, and that at any rate the child 
 had dreamt to some purpose. His first care was to enjoin the 
 most absolute secrecy upon his daughter ; in this respect, how 
 ever, he was secure, for she had discretion far beyond her years 
 or sex. He then repaired to the vault, where stood the statues 
 of the two alabaster nymphs. He remarked that their heads 
 were turned from the portal, and that the regards of each were 
 fixed upon the same point in the interior of the building. Lope 
 Sanchez could not but admire this most discreet contrivance for 
 guarding a secret. He drew a line from the eyes of the statues 
 to the point of regard, made a private mark on the wall, and 
 then retired. 
 
 All day, however, the mind of Lope Sanchez was distracted 
 
THE WELL-GUARDED SECRET 301 
 
 with a thousand cares. He could not help hovering within dis 
 tant view of the two statues, and became nervous from the 
 dread that the golden secret might be discovered. Every foot 
 step that approached the place made him tremble. He would 
 have given anything could he but have turned the heads of the 
 statues, forgetting that they had looked precisely in the same 
 direction for some hundreds of years, without any person being 
 the wiser. 
 
 " A plague upon them," he would say to himself, "they ll be 
 tray all ; did ever mortal hear of such a mode of guarding a 
 secret ? " Then on hearing any one advance, he would steal off, 
 as though his very lurking near the place would awaken suspi 
 cion. Then he would return cautiously, and peep from a dis 
 tance to see if everything was secure, but the sight of the statues 
 would again call forth his indignation. " Ay, there they stand," 
 would he say, "always looking, and looking, and looking, just 
 where they should not. Confound them ! they are just like all 
 their sex ; if they have not tongues to tattle with, they ll be 
 sure to do it with their eyes." 
 
 At length, to his relief, the long anxious day drew to a close. 
 The sound of footsteps was no longer heard in the echoing halls 
 of the Alhambra; the last stranger passed the threshold, the 
 great portal was barred and bolted, and the bat and the frog 
 and the hooting owl gradually resumed their nightly vocations 
 in the deserted palace. 
 
 Lope Sanchez waited, however, until the night was far ad 
 vanced before he ventured with his little daughter to the hall 
 of the two nymphs. He found them looking as knowingly and 
 mysteriously as ever at the secret place of deposit. " By your 
 leaves, gentle ladies," thought Lope Sanchez, as he passed be 
 tween them, "I will relieve you from this charge that must 
 have set so heavy in your minds for the last two or three cen 
 turies." He accordingly went to work at the part of the wall 
 which he had marked, and in a little while laid open a concealed 
 
302 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 recess, in which stood two great jars of porcelain. He attempted 
 to draw them forth, but they were immovable, until touched by 
 the innocent hand of his little daughter. With her aid he dis 
 lodged them from their niche, and found, to his great joy, that 
 they were filled with pieces of Moorish gold, mingled with jewels 
 and precious stones. Before daylight he managed to convey 
 them to his chamber, and left the two guardian statues with 
 their eyes still fixed on the vacant wall. 
 
 Lope Sanchez had thus on a sudden become a rich man ; 
 but riches, as usual, brought a world of cares to which he 
 had hitherto been a stranger. How was he to convey away 
 his wealth with safety ? How was he even to enter upon the 
 enjoyment of it without awakening suspicion 1 Now, too, for 
 the first time in his life the dread of robbers entered into his 
 mind. He looked with terror at the insecurity of his habita 
 tion, .and went to work to barricade the doors and windows ; 
 yet after all his precautions he could not sleep soundly. His 
 usual gayety was at an end, he had no longer a joke or a song 
 for his neighbors, and, in short, became the most miserable 
 animal in the. Alhambra. His old comrades remarked this 
 alteration, pitied him heartily, and began to desert him ; think 
 ing he must be falling into want, and in danger of looking to 
 them for assistance. Little did they suspect that his only 
 calamity was riches. 
 
 The wife of Lope Sanchez shared his anxiety, but then she 
 had ghostly comfort. We ought before this to have mentioned 
 that Lope, being rather a light inconsiderate little man, his 
 wife was accustomed, in all grave matters, to "seek the counsel 
 and ministry of her confessor Fray Simon, a sturdy, broad- 
 shouldered, blue-bearded, bullet-headed friar of the neighboring 
 convent of San Francisco, who was in fact the spiritual com 
 forter of half the good wives of the neighborhood. He was 
 moreover in great esteem among divers sisterhoods of nuns ; 
 who requited him for his ghostly services by frequent presents 
 
A SPIRITUAL COUNSELLOR 303 
 
 of those little dainties and knickknacks manufactured in con 
 vents, such as delicate confections, sweet biscuits, and bottles 
 of spiced cordials, found to be marvellous restoratives after fasts 
 and vigils. 
 
 Fray Simon thrived in the exercise of his functions. His 
 oily skin glistened in the sunshine as he toiled up the hill of 
 the Alhambra on a sultry day. Yet notwithstanding his sleek 
 condition, the knotted rope round his waist showed the aus 
 terity of his self-discipline ; the multitude doffed their caps to 
 him as a mirror of piety, and even the dogs scented the odor 
 of sanctity that exhaled from his garments, and howled from 
 their kennels as he passed. 
 
 Such was Fray Simon, the spiritual counsellor of the comely 
 wife of Lope Sanchez ; and as the father confessor is the 
 domestic confidant of women in humble life in Spain, he was 
 soon acquainted, in great secrecy, with the story of the hidden 
 treasure. 
 
 The friar opened his eyes and mouth, and crossed himself a 
 dozen times at the news. After a moment s pause, u Daughter 
 of my soul ! " said he, "know that thy husband has committed 
 a double sin a sin against both state and church ! The 
 treasure he hath thus seized upon for himself, being found in 
 the royal domains, belongs of course to the crown ; but being 
 infidel wealth, rescued as it were from the very fangs of Satan, 
 should be devoted to the church. Still, however, the matter 
 may be accommodated. Bring hither thy myrtle wreath." 
 
 When the good father beheld it, his eyes twinkled more than 
 ever with admiration of the size and beauty of the emeralds. 
 " This," said he, " being the first-fruits of this discovery, should 
 be dedicated to pious purposes. I will hang it up as a votive 
 offering before the image of San Francisco in our chapel, and 
 will earnestly pray to him, this very night, that your husband 
 be permitted to remain in quiet possession of your wealth." 
 
 The good dame was delighted to make her peace with 
 
304 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Heaven at so cheap a rate, and the friar, putting the wreath 
 under his mantle, departed with saintly steps toward his 
 convent. 
 
 When Lope Sanchez came home, his wife told him what had 
 passed. He was excessively provoked, for he lacked his wife s 
 devotion, and had for some time groaned in secret at the 
 domestic visitations of the friar. "Woman," said he, "what 
 hast thou done? Thou hast put everything at hazard by thy 
 tattling." 
 
 " What ! " cried the good woman, " would you forbid my 
 disburdening my conscience to my confessor 1 " 
 
 " No, wife ! confess as many of your own sins as you please ; 
 but as to this money-digging, it is a sin of my own, and my 
 conscience is very easy under the weight of it." 
 
 There was no use, however, in complaining; the secret was 
 told, and, like water spilled on the sand, was not again to be 
 gathered. Their only chance was, that the friar would be 
 discreet. 
 
 The next day, while Lope Sanchez was abroad, there was an 
 humble knocking at the door, and Fray Simon entered with 
 meek and demure countenance. 
 
 "Daughter," said he, "I have earnestly prayed to San 
 Francisco, and he has heard my prayer. In the dead of the 
 night the saint appeared to me in a dream, but with a frowning 
 aspect. Why, said he, dost thou pray to me to dispense 
 with this treasure of the Gentiles, when thou seest the poverty 
 of my chapel 1 Go to the house of Lope Sanchez, crave in my 
 name a portion of the Moorish gold, to furnish two candlesticks 
 for the main altar, and let him possess the residue in peace. " 
 
 When the good woman heard of this vision, she crossed her 
 self with awe, and going to the secret place where Lope had 
 hid the treasure, she filled a great leathern purse with pieces 
 of Moorish gold, and gave it to the friar. The pious monk 
 bestowed upon her, in return, benedictions enough, if paid 
 
PREPARATIONS FOR FLIGHT 305 
 
 by Heaven, to enrich her race to the latest posterity; then 
 slipping the purse into the sleeve of his habit, he folded his 
 hands upon his breast, and departed with an air of humble 
 thankfulness. 
 
 When Lope Sanchez heard of this second donation to the 
 church, he had wellnigh lost his senses. "Unfortunate man," 
 cried he, "what will become of me? I shall be robbed by 
 piecemeal ; I shall be ruined and brought to beggary ! " 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty that his wife could pacify 
 him, by reminding him of the countless wealth that yet remained, 
 and how considerate it was for San Francisco to rest contented 
 with so small a portion. 
 
 Unluckily, Fray Simon had a number of poor relations to be 
 provided for, not to mention some half-dozen sturdy bullet- 
 headed orphan children and destitute foundlings that he had 
 taken under his care. He repeated his visits, therefore, from day 
 to day, with solicitations on behalf of Saint Dominick, Saint 
 Andrew, Saint James, until poor Lope was driven to despair, 
 and found that unless he got out of the reach of this holy friar, 
 he should have to take peace-offerings to every saint in the cal 
 endar. He determined, therefore, to pack up his remaining 
 wealth, beat a secret retreat in the night, and make off to an 
 other part of the kingdom. 
 
 Full of his project, he bought a stout mule for the purpose, 
 and tethered it in a gloomy vault underneath the tower of the 
 seven floors ; the very place whence the Belludo, or goblin horse, 
 is said to issue forth at midnight, and scour the streets of Gra 
 nada, pursued by a pack of hell-hounds. Lope Sanchez had 
 little faith in the story, but availed himself of the dread occa 
 sioned by it, knowing that no one would be likely to pry into 
 the subterranean stable of the phantom steed. He sent off his 
 family in the course of the day, with orders to wait for him at 
 a distant village of the Vega. As the night advanced, he con 
 veyed his treasure to the vault under the tower, and having 
 
306 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 loaded his mule, he led it forth, and cautiously descended the 
 dusky avenue. 
 
 Honest Lope had taken his measures with the utmost secrecy, 
 imparting them to no one but the faithful wife of his bosom. 
 By some miraculous revelation, however, they became known to 
 Fray Simon. The zealous friar beheld these infidel treasures 
 on the point of slipping forever out of his grasp, and determined 
 to have one more dash at them for the benefit of the church 
 and San Francisco. Accordingly, when the bells had rung for 
 animas, and all the Alhambra was quiet, he stole out of his con 
 vent, and descending through the Gate of Justice, concealed 
 himself among the thickets of roses and laurels that border the 
 great avenue. Here he remained, counting the quarters of 
 hours as they were sounded on the bell of the watch-tower, arid 
 listening to the dreary hootings of owls, and the distant bark 
 ing of dogs from the gipsy caverns. 
 
 At length he heard the tramp of hoofs, and, through the 
 gloom of the overshading trees, imperfectly beheld a steed de 
 scending the avenue. The sturdy friar chuckled at the idea of 
 the knowing turn he was about to serve honest Lope. 
 
 Tucking up the skirts of his habit, and wriggling like a cat 
 watching a mouse, he waited until his prey was directly before 
 him, when darting forth from his leafy covert, and putting one 
 hand on the shoulder and the other on the crupper, he made a 
 vault that would not have disgraced the most experienced mas 
 ter of equitation, and alighted well-forked astride the steed. 
 "Ah ha ! " said the sturdy friar, " we shall now see who best 
 understands the game." He had scarce uttered the words when 
 the mule began to kick, and rear, and plunge, and then set off 
 full speed down the hill. The friar attempted to check him, 
 but in vain. He bounded from rock to rock, and bush to bush ; 
 the friar s habit was torn to ribbons and fluttered in the wind, 
 his shaven poll received many a hard knock from the branches 
 of the trees, and many a scratch from the brambles. To add 
 
THE BEDEVILLED FRIAR 307 
 
 to his terror and distress, be found a pack of seven hounds in full 
 cry at his heels, and perceived, too late, that he was actually 
 mounted upon the terrible Belludo ! 
 
 Away then they went, according to the ancient phrase, "pull 
 devil, pull friar," down the great avenue, across the Plaza Nueva, 
 along the Zacatin, around the Vivarrambla never did hunts 
 man and hound make a more furious run, or more infernal up 
 roar. In vain did the friar invoke every saint in the calendar, 
 and the holy Virgin into the bargain ; every time he mentioned a 
 name of the kind it was like a fresh application of the spur, and 
 made the Belludo bound as high as a house. Through the re 
 mainder of the night was the unlucky Fray Simon carried hither 
 and thither, and whither he would not, until every bone in his 
 body ached, and he suffered a loss of leather too grievous to be 
 mentioned. At length the crowing of a cock gave the signal of 
 returning day. At the sound the goblin steed wheeled about, 
 and galloped back for his tower. Again he scoured the Yivar- 
 rambla, the Zacatin, the Plaza Nueva, and the avenue of fountains, 
 the seven dogs yelling, and barking, and leaping up, and snapping 
 at the heels of the terrified friar. The first streak of day had 
 just appeared as they reached the tower ; here the goblin steed 
 kicked up his heels, sent the friar a summerset through the air, 
 plunged into the dark vault followed by the infernal pack, and 
 a profound silence succeeded to the late deafening clamor. 
 
 Was ever so diabolical a trick played off upon a holy friar ? 
 A peasant going to his labors at early dawn found the unfortu 
 nate Fray Simon lying under a fig-tree at the foot of the tower, 
 but so bruised and bedevilled that he could neither speak nor 
 move. He was conveyed with all care and tenderness to his cell, 
 and the story went that he had been waylaid and maltreated by ^ 
 robbers. A day or two elapsed before he recovered the use of 
 his limbs ; he consoled himself, in the meantime, with the 
 thoughts that though the mule with the treasure had escaped him, 
 he had previously had some rare pickings at the infidel spoils. 
 
308 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 His first care on being able to use his limbs, was to search be 
 neath his pallet, where he had secreted the myrtle wreath and 
 the leathern pouches of gold extracted from the piety of dame 
 Sanchez. What was his dismay at finding the wreath, in effect, 
 but a withered branch of myrtle, and the leathern pouches filled 
 with sand and gravel ! 
 
 Fray Simon, with all his chagrin, had the discretion to hold his 
 tongue, for to betray the secret might draw on him the ridicule 
 of the public, and the punishment of his superior. It was not 
 until many years afterwards, on his death-bed, that he revealed 
 to his confessor his nocturnal ride on the Belludo. 
 
 Nothing was heard of Lope Sanchez for a long time after his 
 disappearance from the Alhambra. His memory was always 
 cherished as that of a merry companion, though it was feared, 
 from the care and melancholy observed in his conduct shortly 
 before his mysterious departure, that poverty and distress had 
 driven him to some extremity. Some years afterwards one of 
 his old companions, an invalid soldier, being at Malaga, was 
 knocked down and nearly run over by a coach and six. The 
 carriage stopped ; an old gentleman, magnificently dressed, with 
 a bag-wig and sword, stepped out to assist the poor invalid. 
 What was the astonishment of the latter to behold in this grand 
 cavalier his old friend Lope Sanchez, who was actually celebrat 
 ing the marriage of his daughter Sanchica with one of the first 
 grandees in the land. 
 
 The carriage contained the bridal party. There was daine 
 Sanchez, now grown as round as a barrel, and dressed out with 
 feathers and jewels, and necklaces of pearls, and necklaces of 
 diamonds, and rings on every finger, altogether a finery of 
 apparel that had not been seen since the days of Queen Sheba. 
 The little Sanchica had now grown to be a woman, and for 
 grace and beauty might have been mistaken for a duchess, if not 
 a princess outright. The bridegroom sat beside her rather a 
 withered spindle-shanked little man, but this only proved him to 
 
DON LOPE AND HIS FAMILY 309 
 
 be of the true-blue blood ; a legitimate Spanish grandee being 
 rarely above three cubits in stature. The match had been of 
 the mother s making. 
 
 Riches had not spoiled the heart of honest Lope. He kept 
 his old comrade with him for several days; feasted him like 
 a king, took him to plays and bull -fights, and at length sent 
 him away rejoicing, with a big bag of money for himself, and 
 another to be distributed among his ancient messmates of the 
 Alhambra. 
 
 Lope always gave out that a rich brother had died in America 
 and left him heir to a copper mine ; but the shrewd gossips of 
 the Alhambra insist that his wealth was all derived from his 
 having discovered the secret guarded by the two marble nymphs 
 of the Alhambra. It is remarked that these very discreet 
 statues continue, even unto the present day, with their eyes 
 fixed most significantly on the same part of the wall ; which 
 leads many to suppose there is still some hidden treasure re 
 maining there well worthy the attention of the enterprising 
 traveller. Though others, and particularly all female visitors, 
 regard them with great complacency as lasting monuments of 
 the fact that women can keep a secret. 
 
 THE CRUSADE OF THE GRAND MASTER OF 
 ALCANTARA 
 
 IN the course of a morning s research among the old chronicles 
 in the Library of the University, I came upon a little episode 
 in the history of Granada, so strongly characteristic of the 
 bigot zeal which sometimes inflamed the Christian enterprises 
 against this splendid but devoted city, that I was tempted to 
 draw it forth from the parchment-bound volume in which it 
 lay entombed, and submit it to the reader. 
 
 In the year of redemption, 1394, there was a valiant and 
 
310 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 devout grand master of Alcantara, named Martin Yanez de 
 Barbudo, who was inflamed with a vehement desire to serve 
 God and fight the Moors. Unfortunately for this brave and 
 pious cavalier, a profound peace existed between the Christian 
 and Moslem powers. Henry III. had just ascended the throne 
 of Castile, and Yusef ben Mohammed had succeeded to the 
 throne of Granada, and both were disposed to continue the 
 peace which had prevailed between their fathers. The grand 
 master looked with repining at Moorish banners and weapons, 
 which decorated his castle hall, trophies of the exploits of his 
 predecessors; and repined at his fate to exist in a period of 
 such inglorious tranquillity. 
 
 At length his impatience broke through all bounds, and 
 seeing that he could find no public war in which to engage, 
 he resolved to carve out a little war for himself. Such at least 
 is the account given by some ancient chronicles, though others 
 give the following as the motive for this sudden resolution to 
 go campaigning. 
 
 As the grand master was one day seated at table with several 
 of his cavaliers, a man suddenly entered the hall, tall, meagre, 
 and bony, with haggard countenance and fiery eye. All recog 
 nized him for a hermit, who had been a soldier in his youth, 
 but now led a life of penitence in a cave. He advanced to the 
 table and struck upon it with a fist that seemed of iron. 
 "Cavaliers," said he, "why sit ye here idly, with your weapons 
 resting against the wall, while the enemies of the faith lord it 
 over the fairest portion of the land 1 " 
 
 " Holy father, what wouldst thou have us do ? " asked the 
 grand master, "seeing the wars are over and our swords bound 
 up by treaties of peace 1 " 
 
 "Listen to my words," replied the hermit. "As I was 
 seated late at night at the entrance of my cave, contemplating 
 the heavens, I fell into a reverie, and a wonderful vision was 
 presented to me. I beheld the moon, a mere crescent, yet 
 
THE AMBASSADORS 311 
 
 luminous as the brightest silver, and it hung in the heaven, 
 over the kingdom of Granada. While I was looking at it, 
 behold there shot forth from the firmament a blazing star 
 which, as it went, drew after it all the stars of heaven ; and 
 they assailed the moon and drove it from the skies ; and the 
 whole firmament was filled with the glory of that blazing star. 
 While mine eyes were yet dazzled by this wondrous sight, some 
 one stood by me with snowy wings and a shining countenance. 
 Oh man of prayer, said he, get thee to the grand master of 
 Alcantara and tell him of the vision thou hast beheld. He is 
 the blazing star, destined to drive the crescent, the Moslem 
 emblem, from the land. Let him boldly draw the sword and 
 continue the good work begun by Pelazo of old, and victory 
 will assuredly attend his banner. " 
 
 The grand master listened to the hermit as to a messenger 
 from heaven, and followed his counsel in all things. By his 
 advice he dispatched two of his stoutest warriors, armed cap-a-pie, 
 on an embassy to the Moorish king. They entered the gates of 
 Granada without molestation, as the nations were at peace ; and 
 made their way to the Alhambra, where they were promptly 
 admitted to the king, who received them in the Hall of Ambas 
 sadors. They delivered their message roundly and hardly. 
 " We come, King, from Don Martin Yanez de Barbudo, grand 
 master of Alcantara ; who affirms the faith of Jesus Christ to 
 be true and holy, and that of Mahomet false and detestable, 
 and he challenges thee to maintain the contrary, hand to hand, 
 in single combat. Shouldst thou refuse, he offers to combat 
 with one hundred cavaliers against two hundred ; or, in like 
 proportion, to the number of one thousand, always allowing thy 
 faith a double number of champions. Remember, King; that 
 thou canst not refuse this challenge; since thy prophet, knowing 
 the impossibility of maintaining his doctrines by argument, has 
 commanded his followers to enforce them with the sword." 
 
 The beard of king Yusef trembled with indignation. " The 
 
312 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 master of Alcantara," said he, " is a madman to send such a 
 message, and ye are saucy knaves to bring it." 
 
 So saying, he ordered the ambassadors to be thrown into a 
 dungeon, by way of giving them a lesson in diplomacy ; and 
 they were roughly treated on their way thither by the populace, 
 who were exasperated at this insult to their sovereign and their 
 faith. 
 
 The grand master of Alcantara could scarcely credit the tidings 
 of the maltreatment of his messengers ; but the hermit rejoiced 
 when they were repeated to him. " God," said he, " has blinded 
 this infidel king for his downfall. Since he has sent no reply 
 to thy defiance, consider it accepted. Marshal thy forces, there 
 fore ; march forward to Granada ; pause not until thou seest 
 the gate of Elvira. A miracle will be wrought in thy favor. 
 There will be a great battle ; the enemy will be overthrown ; 
 but not one of thy soldiers will be slain." 
 
 The grand master called upon every warrior zealous in the 
 Christian cause to aid him in this crusade. In a little while 
 three hundred horsemen and a thousand foot-soldiers rallied 
 under his standard. The horsemen were veterans, seasoned to 
 battle and well armed ; but the infantry were raw and undisci 
 plined. The victory, however, was to be miraculous ; the grand 
 master was a man of surpassing faith, and knew that the weaker 
 the means the greater the miracle. He sallied forth confidently, 
 therefore, with his little army, and the hermit strode ahead, 
 bearing a cross on the end of a long pole, and beneath it the 
 pennon of the order of Alcantara. 
 
 As they approached the city of Cordova they were overtaken 
 by messengers, spurring in all haste, bearing missives from the 
 Castilian monarch, forbidding the enterprise. The grand master 
 was a man of a single mind and a single will ; in other words, 
 a man of one idea. " Were I on any other errand," said he, " I 
 should obey these letters as coming from my lord the king ; but 
 I am sent by a higher power than the king. In compliance 
 
EXPOSTULATIONS 313 
 
 with its commands I have advanced the cross thus far against 
 the infidels ; and it would be treason to the standard of Christ 
 to turn back without achieving my errand." 
 
 So the trumpets were sounded ; the cross was again reared 
 aloft, and the band of zealots resumed their march. As they 
 passed through the streets of Cordova the people were amazed 
 at beholding a hermit bearing a cross at the head of a warlike 
 multitude ; but when they learnt that a miraculous victory was 
 to be effected and Granada destroyed, laborers and artisans threw 
 by the implements of their handicrafts and joined in the crusade ; 
 while a merceimrj^ rabble followed on with a view of plunder. 
 
 A number of cavaliers of rank who lacked faith in the prom 
 ised miracle, and dreaded the consequences of this unprovoked 
 irruption into the country of the Moor, assembled at the bridge 
 of the Guadalquivir and endeavored to dissuade the grand master 
 from crossing. He was deaf to prayers, expostulations, or men 
 aces ; his followers were enraged at this opposition to the cause 
 of the faith ; they put an end to the parley by their clamors ; 
 the cross was again reared and borne triumphantly across the 
 bridge. 
 
 The multitude increased as it proceeded; by the time the 
 grand master had reached Alcala la Real, which stands on a 
 mountain overlooking the Vega of Granada, upwards of five 
 thousand men on foot had joined his standard. 
 
 At Alcala came forth Alonzo Fernandez de Cordova, Lord of 
 Aguilar, his brother Diego Fernandez, Marshal of Castile, and 
 other cavaliers of valor and experience. Placing themselves in 
 the way of the grand master, " What madness is this, Don 
 Martin 1 ?" said they; " the Moorish king has two hundred thou 
 sand foot-soldiers and five thousand horse within his walls ; what 
 can you and your handful of cavaliers and your noisy rabble do 
 against such force 1 Bethink you of the disasters which have 
 befallen other Christian commanders, who have crossed these 
 rocky borders with ten times your force. Think, too, of the 
 
314 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 mischief that will be brought upon this kingdom by an outrage 
 of the kind committed by a man of your rank and importance, a 
 grand master of Alcantara. Pause, we entreat you, while the 
 truce is yet unbroken. Await within the borders the reply of the 
 king of Granada to. your challenge. If he agree to meet you 
 singly, or with champions two or three, it will be your individual 
 contest, and fight it out in God s name; if he refuse, you may 
 return home with great honor and the disgrace will fall upon 
 the Moors." 
 
 Several cavaliers, who had hitherto followed the grand mas 
 ter with devoted zeal, were moved by these expostulations, 
 and suggested to him the policy of listening to this advice. 
 
 " Cavaliers," said he, addressing himself to Alonzo Fernandez 
 de Cordova and his companions, " I thank you for the counsel 
 you have so kindly bestowed upon me, and if I were merely in 
 pursuit of individual glory I might be swayed by it. But I 
 am engaged to achieve a great triumph of the faith, which God 
 is to effect by miracle through my means. As to you, cavaliers, " 
 turning to those of his followers who had wavered, " if your 
 hearts fail you, or you repent of having put your hands to this 
 good work, return, in God s name, and my blessing go with you. 
 For myself, though I have none to stand by me but this holy her 
 mit, yet will I assuredly proceed ; until I have planted this sacred 
 standard on the walls of Granada, or perished in the attempt." 
 
 "Don Martin Yanez de Barbudo," replied the cavaliers, "we 
 are not men to turn our backs upon our commander, however 
 rash his enterprise. We spoke but in caution. Lead on, there 
 fore, and if it be to the death, be assured to the death we will 
 follow thee." 
 
 By this time the common soldiers became impatient. " For 
 ward ! forward ! " shouted they. " Forward in the cause of 
 faith." So the grand master gave signal, the hermit again 
 reared the cross aloft, and they poured down a defile of the 
 mountain, with solemn chants of triumph. 
 
THE BATTLE 315 
 
 That night they encamped at the river of Azores, and the 
 next morning, which was Sunday, crossed the borders. Their 
 first pause was at an atalaya or solitary tower, built upon a 
 rock ; a frontier post to keep a watch upon the border, and 
 give notice of invasion. It was thence called el Torre del Exea 
 (the tower of the spy). The grand master halted before it and 
 summoned its petty garrison to surrender. He was answered 
 by a shower of stones and arrows, which wounded him in the 
 hand and killed three of his men. 
 
 " How is this, father ? " said he to the hermit ; " you assured 
 me that not one of my followers would be slain ! " 
 
 " True, my son, but I meant in the great battle of the infidel 
 king ; what need is there of miracle to aid in the capture of a 
 petty tower 1 " 
 
 The grand master was satisfied. He ordered wood to be 
 piled against the door of the tower to burn it down. In the 
 meantime provisions were unloaded from the sumpter-mules, 
 and the crusaders, withdrawing beyond bowshot, sat down on 
 the grass to a repast to strengthen them for the arduous day s 
 work before them. While thus engaged, they were startled by 
 the sudden appearance of a great Moorish host. The atalayas 
 had given the alarm by fire and smoke from the mountain-tops 
 of "an enemy across the border," and the king of Granada had 
 sallied forth with a great force to the encounter. 
 
 The crusaders, nearly taken by surprise, flew to arms and 
 prepared for battle. The grand master ordered his three hun 
 dred horsemen to dismount and fight on foot in support of the 
 infantry. The Moors, however, charged so suddenly that they 
 separated the cavaliers from the foot-soldiers and prevented 
 their uniting. The grand master gave the old war-cry, " San 
 tiago ! Santiago ! and close Spain ! " He and his knights 
 breasted the fury of the battle, but were surrounded by a 
 countless host and assailed with arrows, stones, darts, and 
 arquebuses. Still they fought fearlessly, and made prodigious 
 
316 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 slaughter. The hermit mingled in the hottest of the fight. In 
 one hand he bore the cross, in the other he brandished a sword, 
 with which he dealt about him like a maniac, slaying several of 
 the enemy, until he sank to the ground covered with wounds. 
 The grand master saw him fall, and saw too late the fallacy of 
 his prophecies. Despair, however, only made him fight the 
 more fiercely, until he also fell overpowered by numbers. His 
 devoted cavaliers emulated his holy zeal. Not one turned his 
 back nor asked for mercy ; all fought until they fell. As to 
 the foot-soldiers, many were killed, many taken prisoners ; the 
 residue escaped to Alcala la Real. When the Moors came to 
 strip the slain, the wounds of the cavaliers were all found to be 
 in front. 
 
 Such was the catastrophe of this fanatic enterprise. The 
 Moors vaunted it as a decisive proof of the superior sanctity of 
 their faith, and extolled their king to the skies when he re 
 turned in triumph to Granada. 
 
 As it was satisfactorily shown that this crusade was the 
 enterprise of an individual, and contrary to the express orders 
 of the king of Castile, the peace of the two kingdoms was not 
 interrupted. Nay, the Moors evinced a feeling of respect for 
 the valor of the unfortunate grand master, and readily gave up 
 his body to Don Alonzo Fernandez de Cordova, who came from 
 Alcala to seek it. The Christians of the frontier united in pay 
 ing the last sad honors to his memory. His body was placed 
 upon a bier, covered with the pennon of the order of Alcantara 
 and the broken cross, the emblem of his confident hopes and 
 fatal disappointment, was borne before it. In this way his 
 remains were carried back in funeral procession, through the 
 mountain tract which he had traversed so resolutely. Where- 
 ever it passed, through a town or village, the populace followed 
 with tears and lamentations, bewailing him as a valiant knight 
 and a martyr to the faith. His body was interred in the 
 chapel of the convent of Santa Maria de Almocovara, and on 
 
THE EPITAPH 317 
 
 his sepulchre may still be seen engraven in quaint and antique 
 Spanish the following testimonial to his bravery : 
 
 HERE LIES ONE WHOSE HEART NEVER KNEW FEAR. 
 (Aqui yaz aquel que par neua cosa nunca eve pavor en sen corazon.) 1 
 
 1 Torres. Hist. Ord. Alcantara. Cron. Enrique III. per Pedro Lopez 
 de Ayala. 
 
 SPANISH ROMANCE 
 
 IN the latter part of my sojourn in the Alhambra, I made 
 frequent descents into the Jesuit s Library of the University ; 
 and relished more and more the old Spanish chronicles, which 
 I found there bound in parchment. I delight in those quaint 
 histories which treat of the times when the Moslems maintained 
 a foothold in the Peninsula. With all their bigotry and occa 
 sional intolerance, they are full of noble acts and generous sen 
 timents, and have a high, spicy, oriental flavor, not to be found 
 in other records of the times, which were merely European. In 
 fact, Spain, even at the present day, is a country apart ; severed 
 in history, habits, manners, and modes of thinking, from all the 
 rest of Europe. It is a romantic country ; but its romance has 
 none of the sentimentality of modern European romance; it is 
 chiefly derived from the brilliant regions of the East, and from 
 the high-minded school of Saracenic chivalry. 
 
 The Arab invasion and conquest brought a higher civilization, 
 and a nobler style of thinking, into Gothic Spain. The Arabs 
 were quick-witted, sagacious, proud-spirited, and poetical people, 
 and were imbued with oriental science and literature. Wher 
 ever they esIaKHshed a seat of power, it became a rallying-place 
 for the learned and ingenious ; and they softened and refined 
 the people whom they conquered. By degrees, occupancy 
 seemed to give them an hereditary right to their foothold in 
 
318 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the land ; they ceased to be looked upon as invaders, and were 
 regarded as rival neighbors. The Peninsula, broken up into a 
 variety of states, both Christian and Moslem, became, for cen 
 turies, a great campaigning-ground, where the art of war 
 seemed to be the principal business of man, and was carried to 
 the highest pitch of romantic chivalry. The original ground of 
 hostility, a difference of faith, gradually lost its rancor. Neigh 
 boring states, of opposite creeds, were occasionally linked to 
 gether in alliances, jaffensive and defensive ; so that the cross 
 and crescent were to be seen side by side, fighting against some 
 common enemy. In times of peace, too, the noble youth of 
 either faith resorted to the same cities, Christian or Moslem, to 
 school themselves in military science. Even in the temporary 
 truces of sanguinary wars, the warriors who had recently striven 
 together in the deadly conflicts of the field, laid aside their 
 animosity, met at tournaments, jousts, and other military fes 
 tivities, and exchanged the courtesies of gentle and generous 
 spirits. Thus the opposite races became frequently mingled 
 together in peaceful intercourse, or if any rivalry took plane, it 
 was in those high courtesies and nobler acts, which bespeak the 
 accomplished cavalier. Warriors, of opposite creeds, became 
 ambitious of transcending each other in magnanimity as well as 
 valor. Indeed, the chivalric virtues were refined upon to a 
 degree sometimes fastidious and constrained, but at other times 
 inexpressibly noble and affecting. The annals of the times 
 teem with illustrious instances of high-wrought courtesy, roman 
 tic generosity, lofty disinterestedness, and punctilious honor, 
 that warm the very soul to read them. These have furnished 
 themes for national plays and poems, or have been celebrated 
 in those all-pervading ballads, which are as the life-breath of 
 the people, and thus have continued to exercise an influence on 
 the national character, which centuries of vicissitude and decline 
 have not been able to destroy; so that, with all their faults, 
 and they are many, the Spaniards, even at the present day, are, 
 
SPANISH ROMANCE 319 
 
 on many points, the most high-minded and proud-spirited 
 people of Europe. It is true, the romance of feeling derived 
 from the sources I have mentioned, has, like all other romance, 
 its affectations and extremes. It renders the Spaniard at times 
 pompous and grandiloquent; prone to carry the "pundonor," 
 or point of honorp5eyond the bounds of sober sense and sound 
 morality; disposed, in the midst of poverty, to affect the 
 "grande caballero," and to look down with sovereign disdain 
 upon " arts mechanical," and all the gainful pursuits of ,plebeia.n 
 life ; but this very inflation of spirit, while it fills his brain 
 with vapors, lifts him above a thousand meannesses ; and 
 though it often keeps him in indigence, ever protects him from 
 vulgarity. 
 
 In the present day, when popular literature is running into 
 the low levels of life, and luxuriating on the vices and follies of 
 mankind ; and when the universal pursuit of gain is trampling 
 down the early growth of poetic feeling, and wearing out the 
 verdure of the soul, I question whether it would not be of service 
 for the reader occasionally to turn to these records of prouder 
 times and loftier modes of thinking ; and to steep himself to the 
 very lips in old Spanish romance. 
 
 With these preliminary suggestions, the fruit of a morning s 
 reading and rumination in the old Jesuit s Library of the Uni 
 versity, I will give him a legend in point, drawn forth from one 
 of the venerable chronicles alluded to. 
 
 LEGEND OF DON MUNIO SANCHO DE HINOJOSA 
 
 IN the cloisters of the ancient Benedictine convent of San 
 Domingo, at Silos, in Castile, are the mouldering yet magnifi 
 cent monuments of the once powerful and chivalrous family of 
 Hinojosa. Among these reclines the marble figure of a knight, 
 ill complete armor, with the hands pressed together, as if in 
 
320 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 prayer. On one side of his tomb is sculptured in relief a band 
 of Christian cavaliers, capturing a cavalcade of male and female 
 Moors; on the other side, the same cavaliers are represented 
 kneeling before an altar. The tomb, like most of the neighbor 
 ing monuments, is almost in ruins, and the sculpture is nearly 
 unintelligible, excepting to the keen eye of the antiquary. The 
 story connected with the sepulchre, however, is still preserved 
 in the old Spanish chronicles, and is to the following purport. 
 
 IN old times several hundred years ago, there was a noble 
 Castilian cavalier, named Don Munio Sancho de Hinojosa, lord 
 of a border castle, which had stood the brunt of many a Moorish 
 foray. He had seventy horsemen as his household troops, all of 
 the ancient Castilian proof; stark warriors, hard riders, and 
 men of iron; with these he scoured the Moorish lands, and 
 made his name terrible throughout the borders. His castle- 
 hall was covered with banners, cimeters, and Moslem helms, 
 the trophies of his prowess. Don Munio was, moreover, a keen 
 huntsman ; and rejoiced in hounds of all kinds, steeds for the 
 chase, and hawks for the towering sport of falconry. When not 
 engaged in warfare his delight was to beat up the neighboring 
 forests ; and scarcely ever did he ride forth without hound and 
 horn, a boar-spear in his hand, or a hawk upon his fist, and an 
 attendant train of huntsmen. 
 
 His wife, Dona Maria Palacin, was of a gentle and timid 
 nature, little fitted to be the spouse of so hardy and adventurous 
 a knight ; and many a tear did the poor lady shed, when he 
 sallied forth upon his daring enterprises, and many a prayer did 
 she offer up for his safety. 
 
 As this doughty cavalier was one day hunting, he stationed 
 himself in a tmcket, on the borders of a green glade of the 
 forest, and dispersed his followers to rouse the game, and drive 
 it toward his stand. He had not been here long, when a caval 
 cade of Moors, of both sexes, came prankling over the forest- 
 
SPANISH COURTESY 321 
 
 lawn. They were unarmed, and magnificently dressed in robes 
 of tissue and embroidery, rich shawls of India, bracelets and 
 anklets of gold, and jewels that sparkled in the sun. 
 
 At the head of this gay cavalcade rode a youthful cavalier, 
 superior to the rest in dignity and loftiness of demeanor, and in 
 splendor of attire ; beside him was a damsel, whose veil, blown 
 aside by the breeze, displayed a face of surpassing beauty, and 
 eyes cast down in maiden modesty, yet beaming with tenderness 
 and joy. 
 
 Don Munio thanked his stars for sending him such a prize, 
 and exulted at the thought of bearing home to his wife the 
 glittering spoils of these infidels. Putting his hunting-horn to 
 his lips, he gave a blast that rung through the forest. His 
 huntsmen came running from all quarters, and the astonished 
 Moors were surrounded and made captives. 
 
 The beautiful Moor wrung her hands in despair, and her 
 female attendants uttered the most piercing cries. The young 
 Moorish cavalier alone retained self-possession. He inquired the 
 name of the Christian knight who commanded this troop of 
 horsemen. When told that it was Don Munio Sancho de 
 Hinojosa, his countenance lighted up. Approaching that cava 
 lier, and kissing his hand, "Don Munio Sancho," said he, "I 
 have heard of your fame as a true and valiant knight, terrible 
 in arms, but schooled in the noble virtues of chivalry. Such 
 do I trust to find you. In me you behold Abadil, son of a 
 Moorish alcayde. I am on the way to celebrate my nuptials 
 with this lady; chance has thrown us in your power, but I 
 confide in your magnanimity. Take all our treasure and jewels ; 
 demand what ransom you think proper for our persons, but 
 suffer us not to be insulted nor dishonored." 
 
 When the good knight heard this appeal, and beheld the 
 beauty of the youthful pair, his heart was touched with ten 
 derness and courtesy. "God forbid," said he, "that I should 
 disturb such happy nuptials. My prisoners in ^trpth shall ye 
 
322 . THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 be, for fifteen days, and immured within my castle, where I 
 claim, as conqueror, the right of celebrating your espousals." 
 
 So saying, he dispatched one of his fleetest horsemen in ad 
 vance, to notify Dona Maria Palacin of the coming of this bridal 
 party ; while he and his huntsmen escorted the cavalcade, not 
 as captors, but as a guard of honor. As they drew near to the 
 castle, the banners were hung out, and the trumpets sounded 
 from the battlements ; and on their nearer approach, the draw 
 bridge was lowered, and Dona Maria came forth to meet them, 
 attended by her ladies and knights, her pages and her minstrels. 
 She took the young bride, Allifra, in her arms, kissed her with 
 the tenderness of a sister, and conducted her into the castle. 
 In the meantime, Don Munio sent forth missives in every direc 
 tion, and had viands and dainties of all kinds collected from the 
 country round ; and the wedding of the Moorish lovers was 
 celebrated with all possible state and festivity. For fifteen days 
 the castle was given up to joy and revelry. There were tiltings 
 and jousts at the ring, and bull-fights, and banquets, and dances 
 to the sound of minstrelsy. When the fifteen days were at an 
 end, he made the bride and bridegroom magnificent presents, 
 and conducted them and their attendants safely beyond the 
 borders. Such, in old times, were the courtesy and generosity 
 of a Spanish cavalier. 
 
 Several years after this event, the king of Castile summoned 
 his nobles to assist him in a campaign against the Moors. Don 
 Munio Sancho was among the first to answer to the call, with 
 seventy horsemen, all stanch and well-tried warriors. His wife, 
 Dona Maria, hung about his neck. " Alas, my lord ! " exclaimed 
 she, "how often wilt thou tempt thy fate, and when will thy 
 thirst for glory be appeased ! " 
 
 "One battle more, r replied Don Munio, "one battle more, 
 for the honor of Castile, and I here make a vow, that when 
 this is over, I will lay by my sword, and repair with my cava 
 liers in pilgrimage to the sepulchre of our Lord at Jerusalem." 
 
THE MOURNING VICTOR 323 
 
 The cavaliers all joined with him in the vow, and Dona Maria 
 felt in some degree soothed in spirit ; still, she saw with a heavy 
 heart the departure of her husband, and watched his banner 
 with wistful eyes, until it disappeared among the trees of the 
 forest. 
 
 The king of Castile led his army to the plains of Almanara, 
 where they encountered the Moorish host, near to Ucles. The 
 battle was long and bloody ; the Christians repeatedly wavered 
 and were as often rallied by the energy of their commanders. 
 Don Munio was covered with wounds, but refused to leave the 
 field. The Christians at length gave way, and the king was 
 hardly pressed, and in danger of being captured. 
 
 Don Munio called upon his cavaliers to follow him to the 
 rescue. "Now is the time," cried he, "to prove your loyalty. 
 Fall to, like brave men ! We fight for the true faith, and if 
 we lose our lives here, we gain a better life hereafter." 
 
 Rushing with his men between the king and his pursuers, 
 they checked the latter in their career, and gave time for their 
 monarch to escape ; but they fell victims to their loyalty. They 
 all fought to the last gasp. Don Munio was singled out by a 
 powerful Moorish knight, but having been wounded in the right 
 arm, he fought to disadvantage, and was slain. The battle 
 being over, the Moor paused to possess himself of the spoils of 
 this redoubtable Christian warrior. When he unlaced the hel 
 met, however, and beheld the countenance of Don Munio, he 
 gave a great cry and smote his breast. "Woe is me !" cried 
 he, " I have slain my benefactor ! The flower of knightly vir 
 tue ! the most magnanimous of cavaliers ! " 
 
 While the battle had been raging on the plain of Salmanara, 
 Dona Maria Palacin remained in her castle, a prey to the keen 
 est anxiety. Her eyes were ever fixed on the road that led 
 from the country of the Moors, and often she asked the watch 
 man of the tower, " What seest thou ? " 
 
324 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 One evening, at the shadowy hour of twilight, the warden 
 sounded his horn. " I see," cried he, " a numerous train winding 
 up the valley. There are mingled Moors and Christians. The 
 banner of my lord is in the advance. Joyful tidings ! " exclaimed 
 the old seneschal; "my lord returns in triumph, and brings 
 captives ! " Then the castle courts rang with shouts of joy ; 
 and the standard was displayed, and the trumpets were sounded, 
 and the drawbridge was lowered, and Dona Maria went forth 
 with her ladies, and her knights, and her pages, and her min 
 strels, to welcome her lord from the wars. But as the train 
 drew nigh, she beheld a sumptuous bier, covered with black 
 velvet, and on it lay a warrior, as if taking his repose : he lay 
 in his armor, with his helmet on his head, and his sword in his 
 hand, as one who had never been conquered, and around the bier 
 were the escutcheons of the house of Hinojosa. 
 
 A number of Moorish cavaliers attended the bier, with em 
 blems of mourning, and with dejected countenances ; and their 
 leader cast himself at the feet of Dona Maria, and hid his face 
 in his hands. She beheld in him the gallant Abadil, whom 
 she had once welcomed with his bride to her castle ; but who 
 now came with the body of the lord, whom he had unknowingly 
 slain in battle ! 
 
 The sepulchre erected in the cloisters of the convent of San 
 Domingo, was achieved at the expense of the Moor Abadil, as 
 a feeble testimony of his grief for the death of the good knight 
 Don Munio, and his reverence for his memory. The tender and 
 faithful Dona Maria soon followed her lord to the tomb. On 
 one of the stones of a small arch, beside his sepulchre, is the 
 following simple inscription: " Hie jacet Maria Palacin y uxor 
 Munonis Sancij De Finojosa ;" (Here lies Maria Palacin, 
 wife of Munio Sancho de Hinojosa). 
 
 The legend of Don Munio Sancho does not conclude with his 
 death. On the same day on which the battle took place on the 
 
THE PHANTOM PILGRIMAGE 325 
 
 plain of Salmanara, a chaplain of the Holy Temple at Jerusalem, 
 while standing at the outer gate, beheld a train of Christian 
 cavaliers advancing, as if in pilgrimage. The chaplain was a 
 native of Spain, and as the pilgrims approached, he knew the 
 foremost to be Don Munio Sancho de Hinojosa, with whom he 
 had been well acquainted in former times. Hastening to the 
 jmtriarch, he told him of the honorable rank of the pilgrims at 
 the gate. The patriarch, therefore, went forth with a grand 
 procession of priests and monks, and received the pilgrims with 
 all due honor. There were seventy cavaliers beside their leader, 
 all stark and lofty warriors. They carried their helmets in 
 their hands, and their faces were deadly pale. They greeted no 
 one, nor looked either to the right or to the left, but entered 
 the chapel, and kneeling before the sepulchre of our Saviour, 
 performed their orisons in silence. When they had concluded, 
 they rose as if to depart, and the patriarch and his attendants 
 advanced to speak to them, but they were no more to be seen. 
 Every one marvelled what could be the meaning of this prodigy. 
 The patriarch carefully noted down the day, and sent to Castile 
 to learn tidings of Don Munio Sancho de Hinojosa. He re 
 ceived for reply, that on the very day specified, that worthy 
 knight, with seventy of his followers, had been slain in battle. 
 These, therefore, must have been the blessed spirits of those 
 Christian warriors, come to fulfil their vow of pilgrimage to the 
 Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. Such was Castilian faith in the 
 olden time, which kept its word, even beyond the grave. 
 
 If any one should doubt of the miraculous apparition of these 
 phantom knights, let him consult the History of the Kings of 
 Castile and Leon, by the learned and pious Fray Prudencio de 
 Sandoval, bishop of Pamplona, where he will find it recorded in 
 the History of King Don Alonzo VI., on the hundred and second 
 page. It is top precious a legend to be lightly abandoned to 
 the doubter. 
 
326 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 POETS AND POETRY OF MOSLEM ANDALUS 
 
 DURING the latter part of my sojourn in the Alhambra I was 
 more than once visited by the Moor of Tetuan, with whom I took 
 great pleasure in rambling through the halls and courts, and 
 getting him to explain to me the Arabic inscriptions. He en 
 deavored to do so faithfully ; but, though he succeeded in giv 
 ing me the thought, he despaired of imparting an idea of the 
 grace and beauty of the language. The aroma of the poetry, 
 said he, is all lost in translation. Enough was imparted, how 
 ever, to increase the stock of my delightful associations with 
 this extraordinary pile. Perhaps there never was a monument 
 more characteristic of an age and people than the Alhambra ; a 
 rugged fortress without, a voluptuous palace, within ; war frown 
 ing from its battlements ; poetry breathing throughout the fairy 
 architecture of its halls. One is irresistibly transported in 
 imagination to those times when Moslem Spain was a region of 
 light amid Christian, yet benighted Europe ; externally a warrior 
 power fighting for existence; internally a realm devoted to liter 
 ature, science, and the arts ; where philosophy was cultivated 
 with passion, though wrought up into subtleties and refinement ; 
 and where the luxuries of sense were transcended by those of 
 thought and imagination. 
 
 Arab poetry, we are told, arrived at its highest splendor 
 under the Ommiades of Spain, who for a long time centred the 
 power and splendor of the Western Caliphat at Cordova. Most 
 of the sovereigns of that brilliant line were themselves poets. 
 One of the last of them was Mahomed ben Abderahman. He 
 led the life of a sybarite in the famous palace and gardens of 
 Azahara, surrounding himself with all that could excite the 
 imagination and delight the senses. His palace was the resort 
 of poets. His vizier, Ibn Zeydun, was called the Horace of 
 Moslem Spain, from Jiis exquisite verses, which were recited 
 
ENCOURAGEMENT OF LITERATURE 327 
 
 with enthusiasm even in the saloons of the Eastern Caliphs. 
 The vizier became passionately enamoured of the princess Walada, 
 daughter of Mahomed. She was the idol of her father s court, 
 a poetess of the highest order, and renowned for beauty as well 
 as talent. If Ibn Zeydun was the Horace of Moslem Spain, she 
 was its Sappho. The princess became the subject of the vizier s 
 most impassioned verses ; especially of a famous risaleh or 
 epistle addressed to her, which the historian Ash-Shakandi de 
 clares has never been equalled for tenderness and melancholy. 
 Whether the poet was happy in his love, the authors I have 
 consulted do not say ; but one intimates that the princess was 
 discreet as she was beautiful, and caused many a lover to sigh 
 in vain. In fact, the reign of love and poetry in the delicious 
 abode of Zahara, was soon brought to a close by a popular in 
 surrection. Mahomed with his family took refuge in the for 
 tress of Ucles, near Toledo, where he was treacherously poisoned 
 by the Alcayde; and thus perished one of the last of the 
 Ommiades. 
 
 The downfall of that brilliant dynasty, which had concen 
 trated everything at Cordova, was favorable to the general 
 literature of Morisco Spain. 
 
 "After the breaking of the necklace and the scattering of its 
 pearls," says Ash-Shakandi, " the kings of small states divided 
 among themselves the patrimony of the Beni Ommiah." 
 
 They vied with each other in filling their capitals with poets 
 and learned men, and rewarded them with boundless prodigality. 
 Such were the Moorish kings of Seville of the illustrious line 
 of the Beni Abbad, "with whom," says the same writer, "re 
 sided fruit and palm-trees and pomegranates who became the 
 centre of eloquence in prose and verse; every day of whose 
 reign was a solemn festivity ; whose history abounds in gener 
 ous actions and heroic deeds, that will last through surrounding 
 ages and live forever in the memory of man ! " 
 
 No place, however, profited more in point of civilization and 
 
328 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 refinement by the downfall of the Western Caliphat than Gra 
 nada. It succeeded to Cordova in splendor, while it surpassed 
 it in romantic beauty of situation. The amenity of its climate, 
 where the ardent heats of a southern summer were tempered by 
 breezes from snow-clad mountains ; the voluptuous repose of its 
 valleys and the bosky luxuriance of its groves and gardens, all 
 awakened sensations of delight, and disposed the mind to love 
 and poetry. Hence the great number of amatory poets that 
 flourished in Granada. Hence those amorous canticles breath 
 ing of love and war, and wreathing chivalrous grace round the 
 stern exercise of arms. Those ballads which still form the pride 
 and delight of Spanish literature are but the echoes of amatory 
 and chivalric lays, which once delighted the Moslem courts of 
 Andalus; and in which a modern historian of Granada pre 
 tends to find the origin of the rima Castellana and the type of 
 the "gay science" of the troubadours. 1 
 
 Poetry was cultivated in Granada by both sexes. "Had 
 Allah," says Ash-Shakandi, "bestowed no other boon on Gra 
 nada than that of making it the birthplace of so many poet 
 esses, that alone would be sufficient for its glory." 
 
 Among the most famous of these was Hafsah; renowned, 
 says the old chronicler, for beauty, talents, nobility, and wealth. 
 We have a mere relic of her poetry in some verses, addressed to 
 her lover, Ahmed, recalling an evening passed together in the 
 garden of Maumal, 
 
 " Allah has given us a happy night, such as he never vouch 
 safes to the wicked and the ignoble. We have beheld the cy 
 presses of Maumal gently bowing their heads before the mountain 
 breeze, the sweet perfumed breeze that smelt of gillyflowers ; 
 the dove murmured her love among the trees ; the sweet basil 
 inclined its boughs to the limpid brook." 
 
 The garden of Maumal was famous among the Moors for its 
 rivulets, its fountains, its flowers, and above all, its cypresses. 
 It had its name from a vizier of Abdallah, grandson of Aben 
 
THE GARDEN OF MAUMAL 329 
 
 Habuz, and Sultan of Granada. Under the administration of 
 this vizier many of the noblest public works were executed. He 
 constructed an aqueduct by which water was brought from the 
 mountains of Alfacar to irrigate the hills and orchards north of 
 the city. He planted a public walk with cypress-trees, and 
 " made delicious gardens for the solace of the melancholy Moors." 
 " The name of Maumal," says Alcantara, "ought to be preserved 
 in Granada in letters of gold." Perhaps it is as well preserved 
 by being associated with the garden he planted ; and by being 
 mentioned in the verses of Hafsah. How often does a casual 
 word from a poet confer immortality ! 
 
 Perhaps the reader may be curious to learn something of the 
 story of Hafsah and her lover, thus connected with one of the 
 beautiful localities of Granada. The following are all the partic 
 ulars I have been able to rescue out of the darkness and obliv 
 ion which have settled upon the brightest names and geniuses 
 of Moslem Spain. 
 
 Ahmed and Hafsah flourished in the sixth century of the 
 Hegira; the twelfth of the Christian Era. Ahmed was the 
 son of the Alcayde of Alcala la Real. His father designed him 
 for public and military life, and would have made him his lieu 
 tenant ; but the youth was of a poetical temperament, and pre 
 ferred a life of lettered ease in the delightful abodes of Granada. 
 Here he surrounded himself by objects of taste in the arts, and 
 by the works of the learned ; he divided his time between study 
 and social enjoyment. He was fond of the sports of the field, 
 and kept horses, hawks, and hounds. He devoted himself to 
 literature, became renowned for erudition, and his compositions 
 in prose and verse were extolled for their beauty, and in the 
 mouths of every one. 
 
 Of a tender, susceptible heart, and extremely sensible to fe 
 male charms, he became the devoted lover of Hafsah. The 
 passion was mutual, and for once the course of true love ap 
 peared to run smooth. The lovers were both young, equal in 
 
330 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 merit, fame, rank, and fortune, enamored of each other s genius 
 as well as person, and inhabiting a region formed to be a realm 
 of love and poetry. A poetical intercourse was carried on be 
 tween them that formed the delight of Granada. They were 
 continually interchanging verses and epistles; "the poetry of 
 which," says the Arabian writer, Al Makkari, "was like the 
 language of doves." 
 
 In the height of their happiness a change took place in the 
 government of Granada. It was the time when the Almohades, 
 a Berber tribe of Mount Atlas, had acquired the control of Mos 
 lem Spain, and removed the seat of government from Cordova 
 to Morocco. The Sultan Abdelmuman governed Spain through 
 his Walis and Alcaydes, and his son, Sidi Abu Said, was made 
 Wali of Granada. He governed in his father s name with royal 
 state and splendor, and with despotic sway. Being a stranger 
 in the country, and a Moor by birth, he sought to strengthen 
 himself by drawing round him popular persons of the Arab race ; 
 and to this effect made Ahmed, who was then in the zenith of 
 his fame and popularity, his vizier. Ahmed would have de 
 clined the post, but the Wali was peremptory. His duties 
 were irksome to him, and he spurned at its restraint. On a 
 hawking-party, with some of his gay companions, he gave way 
 to his poetic vein, exulting in his breaking away from the 
 thraldom of a despotic master like a hawk from the jesses of 
 the falconer, to follow the soaring impulses of his soul. 
 
 His words were repeated to Sidi Abu Said. "Ahmed," said 
 the informant, " spurns at restraint and scoffs at thy authority." 
 The poet was instantly dismissed from office. The loss of an 
 irksome post was no grievance to one of his joyous tempera 
 ment ; but he soon discovered the real cause of his removal. 
 The Wali was his rival. He had seen and become enamored of 
 Hafsah. What was worse, Hafsah was dazzled with the con 
 quest she had made. 
 
 For a time Ahmed treated the matter with ridicule; and ap- 
 
SIDI ABU SAID 331 
 
 pealed to the prejudice existing between the Arab and Moorish 
 races. Sidi Abu Said was of a dark olive complexion. " How 
 canst thou endure that black man ? " said he, scornfully. " By 
 Allah, for twenty dinars I can buy thee a better than he in the 
 slave-market." 
 
 The scoff reached the ears of Sidi Abu Said and rankled in 
 his heart. 
 
 At other times Ahmed gave way to grief and tenderness, re 
 calling past scenes of happiness, reproaching Hafsah with her 
 inconstancy, and warning her in despairing accents that she 
 would be the cause of his death. His words were unheeded. 
 The idea of having the son of the Sultan for a lover had cap 
 tivated the imagination of the poetess. 
 
 Maddened by jealousy and despair, Ahmed joined in a con 
 spiracy against the ruling dynasty. It was discovered, and the 
 conspirators fled from Granada. Some escaped to a castle on 
 the mountains, Ahmed took refuge in Malaga, where he con 
 cealed himself, intending to embark for Valencia. He was dis 
 covered, loaded with chains, and thrown into a dungeon, to 
 abide the decision of Sidi Abu Said. 
 
 He was visited in prison by a nephew, who has left on record 
 an account of the interview. The youth was moved to tears at 
 seeing his illustrious relative, late so prosperous and honored, 
 fettered like a malefactor. 
 
 " Why dost thou weep 1 " said Ahmed. " Are these tears 
 shed for me ? For me, who have enjoyed all that the world 
 could give 1 Weep not for me. I have had my share of hap 
 piness ; banqueted on the daintiest fare ; quaffed out of crystal 
 cups ; slept on beds of down ; been arrayed in the richest silks 
 and brocades ; ridden the fleetest steeds ; enjoyed the loves of 
 the fairest maidens. Weep not for me. My present reverse is 
 but the inevitable course of fate. I have committed acts which 
 render pardon hopeless. I must await my punishment." 
 
 His presentiment was correct. The vengeance of Sidi Abu 
 
332 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Said was only to be satisfied by the blood of his rival, and the 
 unfortunate Alimed was beheaded at Malaga, in the month 
 Jumadi, in the year 559 of the Hegira (April, 1164). When 
 the news was brought to the fickle-hearted Hafsah, she was 
 struck with sorrow and remorse, and put on mourning ; recall 
 ing his warning words, and reproaching herself with being the 
 cause of his death. 
 
 Of the after fortunes of Hafsah I have no further trace than 
 that she died in Morocco, in 1184, outliving both her lovers, 
 for Sidi Abu Said died in Morocco of the plague in 1175. A 
 memorial of his residence in Granada remained in a palace 
 which he built on the banks of the Xenil. The garden of Mau- 
 mal, the scene of the early lives of Ahmed and Hafsah, is no 
 longer in existence. Its site may be found by the antiquary in 
 poetical research. 2 
 
 1 Miguel Lafuente Alcantara. 
 
 2 The authorities for the foregoing : Alcantara, Hist. Granada ; 
 Al Makkari, Hist. Mohamed ; Dynasties in Spain, B. ii. c. 3 ; Notes 
 and illustrations of the same, by Gayangos, Vol. I. p. 440 ; Ibnu 
 Al Kahttib, Biograph. Die., cited by Gayangos ; Conde Hist, Dom. 
 Arab. 
 
 AN EXPEDITION IN QUEST OF A DIPLOMA 
 
 ONE of the most important occurrences in the domestic life 
 of the Alhambra, was the departure of Manuel, the nephew of 
 Dona Antonia, for Malaga, to stand examination as a physician. 
 I have already informed the reader that, on his success in ob 
 taining a degree depended in a great measure the union and 
 future fortunes of himself and his cousin Dolores ; at least so I 
 was privately informed by Mateo Ximenes, and various circum 
 stances concurred to corroborate his information. Their court 
 ship, however, was carried on very quietly and discreetly, and 
 
TIO POLO 333 
 
 I scarce think I should have discovered it, if I had not been put 
 on the alert by the all-observant Mateo. 
 
 In the present instance, Dolores was less on the reserve, and 
 had busied herself for several days in fitting out honest Manuel 
 for his expedition. All his clothes had been arranged and 
 packed in the neatest order, and above all she had worked a 
 smart Andalusian travelling-jacket for him with her own hands. 
 On the morning appointed for his departure, a stout mule on 
 which he was to perform the journey was paraded at the portal 
 of the Alhambra, and Tio Polo (Uncle Polo), an old invalid 
 soldier, attended to caparison him. This veteran was one of 
 the curiosities of the place. He had a leathern lantern visage, 
 tanned in the tropics, a long Roman nose, and a black beetle 
 eye. I had frequently observed him reading, apparently with 
 intense interest, an old parchment-bound volume ; sometimes he 
 would be surrounded by a group of his brother invalids ; some 
 seated on the parapets, some lying on the grass, listening with 
 fixed attention, while he read slowly and deliberately out of 
 his favorite work, sometimes pausing to explain or expound for 
 the benefit of his less enlightened auditors. 
 
 I took occasion one day to inform myself of this ancient book, 
 which appeared to be his vade mecum, and found it to be an 
 odd volume of .the works of Padre Benito Geronymo Feyjoo ; 
 and that one which treats about the Magic of Spain, the 
 mysterious caves of Salamanca and Toledo, the Purgatory of 
 San Patricio (St. Patrick), and other mystic subjects of the 
 kind. From that time I kept my eye upon the veteran. 
 
 On the present occasion I amused myself with watching him 
 fit out the steed of Manuel with all the forecast of an old cam 
 paigner. First he took a considerable time in adjusting to the 
 back of the mule a cumbrous saddle of antique fashion, high in 
 front and behind, with Moorish stirrups like shovels ; the whole 
 looking like a relic of the old armory of the Alhambra ; then a 
 fleecy sheepskin was accommodated to the deep seat of the saddle ; 
 
334 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 then a maleta, neatly packed by the hand of Dolores, was 
 buckled behind ; then a manta was thrown over it to serve 
 either as cloak or couch ; then the all-important alforjas, care 
 fully stocked with provant, were hung in front, together with 
 the bota, or leathern bottle for either wine or water, and lastly 
 the trabucho, which the old soldier slung behind, giving it his 
 benediction. It was like the fitting out in old times of a Moor 
 ish cavalier for a foray or a joust in the Vivarrambla. A num 
 ber of the lazzaroni of the fortress had gathered round, with 
 some of the invalids, all looking on, all offering their aid, and 
 all giving advice, to the great annoyance of Tio Polo. 
 
 When all was ready Manuel took leave of the household ; 
 Tio Polo held his stirrup while he mounted, adjusted the girths 
 and saddle, and cheered him off in military style ; then turning 
 to Dolores, who stood admiring her cavalier as he trotted off, 
 "Ah Dolorocita," exclaimed he, with a nod and a wink, " es 
 rtiuy guapo Manuelito in su Xaqueta " (Ah Dolores, Manuel is 
 mighty fine in his jacket). The little damsel blushed and 
 laughed, and ran into the house. 
 
 Days elapsed without tidings from Manuel, though he had 
 promised to write. The heart of Dolores began to misgive her. 
 Had anything happened to him on the road ? Had he failed in 
 his examination 1 A circumstance occurred in her little house 
 hold to add to her uneasiness and fill her mind with foreboding. 
 It was almost equal to the escapado of her pigeon. Her tortoise- 
 shell cat eloped at night and clambered to the tiled roof of the 
 Alhambra. In the dead of the night there was a fearful cater 
 wauling ; some grimalkin was uncivil to her ; then there was a 
 scramble ; then a clapper-clawing ; then both parties rolled off 
 the roof and tumbled from a great height among the trees on 
 the hill-side. Nothing more was seen or heard of the fugitive, 
 and poor Dolores considered it but the prelude to greater calami 
 ties. 
 
 At the end of ten days, however, Manuel returned in triumph, 
 
TIO POLO . 335 
 
 duly authorized to kill or cure ; and all Dolores cares were over. 
 There was a general gathering in the evening of the humble 
 friends and hangers-on of Dame Antonia to congratulate her and 
 to pay their respects to el Senor Medico, who, peradventure, 
 at some future day, might have all their lives in his hands. 
 One of the most important of these guests was old Tio Polo ; 
 and I gladly seized the occasion to prosecute my acquaintance 
 with him. "Oh Senor," cried Dolores, "you who are so eager 
 to learn all the old histories of the Alhambra, Tio Polo knows 
 more about them than any one else about the place. More 
 than Mateo Ximenes and his whole family put together. Vaya 
 Vaya Tio Polo, tell the Senor all those stories you told 
 us one evening, about enchanted Moors, and the haunted bridge 
 over the Darro, and the old stone pomegranates, that have been 
 there since the days of King Chico." 
 
 It was some time before the old invalid could be brought into 
 a narrative vein. He shook his head they were all idle tales ; 
 not worthy of being told to a cavallero like myself. It was 
 only by telling some stories of the kind myself I at last got 
 him to open his budget. It was a whimsical farrago, partly 
 made up of what he had heard in the Alhambra, partly of what 
 he had read in Padre Feyjoo. I will endeavor to give the 
 reader the substance of it, but I will not promise to give it in 
 the very words of Tio Polo. 
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE ENCHANTED SOLDIER 
 
 EVERYBODY has heard of the Cave of St. Cyprian at Sala 
 manca, where in old times judicial astronomy, necromancy, 
 chiromancy, and other dark and damnable arts were secretly 
 taught by an ancient sacristan ; or, as some will have it, by 
 the devil himself, in that disguise. The cave has long been 
 shut up and the very site of it forgotten ; though, according to 
 
336 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 tradition, the entrance was somewhere about where the stone 
 cross stands in the small square of the seminary of Carvajal ; 
 and this tradition appears in some degree corroborated by the 
 circumstances of the following story. 
 
 There was at one time a student of Salamanca, Don Vicente 
 by name, of that merry but mendicant class who set out on 
 the road to learning without a penny in pouch for the journey, 
 and who, during college vacations, beg from town to town and 
 village to village to raise funds to enable them to pursue their 
 studies through the ensuing term. He was now about to set 
 forth on his wanderings ; and being somewhat musical, slung 
 on his back a guitar with which to amuse the villagers, and 
 pay for a meal or a night s lodging. 
 
 As he passed by the stone cross in the seminary square, he 
 pulled off his hat and made a short invocation to St. Cyprian, 
 for good luck ; when casting his eyes upon the earth, he per 
 ceived something glitter at the foot of the cross. On picking it 
 up, it proved to be a seal-ring of mixed metal, in which gold and 
 silver appeared to be blended. The seal bore as a device two 
 triangles crossing each other, so as to form a star. This device 
 is said to be a cabalistic sign, invented by king Solomon the 
 wise, and of mighty power in all cases of enchantment ; but 
 the honest student, being neither sage nor conjurer, knew noth 
 ing of the matter. He took the ring as a present from St. 
 Cyprian in reward of his prayer ; slipped it on his finger, made 
 a bow to the cross, and strumming his guitar, set off merrily on 
 his wandering. 
 
 The life of a mendicant student in Spain is not the most miser 
 able in the world ; especially if he has any talent at making 
 himself agreeable. He rambles at large from village to village, 
 and city to city, wherever curiosity or caprice may conduct him. 
 The country curates, who, for the most part, have been mendi 
 cant students in their time, give him shelter for the night, and 
 a comfortable meal, and often enrich him with several quartos, 
 
A MENDICANT STUDENT x 337 
 
 or half-pence in the morning. As he presents himself from 
 door to door in the streets of the cities, he meets with no harsh 
 rebuff, no chilling contempt, for there is no disgrace attending 
 his mendicity, many of the most learned men in Spain having 
 commenced their career in this manner ; but if, like the student 
 in question, he is a good-looking varlet and a merry companion ; 
 and, above all, if he can play the guitar, he is sure of a hearty 
 welcome among the peasants, and smiles and favors from their 
 wives and daughters. 
 
 In this way, then, did our ragged and musical son of learning 
 make his way over half the kingdom ; with the fixed determina 
 tion to visit the famous city of Granada before his return. 
 Sometimes he was gathered for the night into the fold of some 
 village pastor; sometimes he was sheltered under the humble 
 but hospitable roof of the peasant. Seated at the cottage-door 
 with his guitar, he delighted the simple folk with his ditties ; or 
 striking up a fandango or bolero, set the brown country lads 
 and lasses dancing in the mellow twilight. In the morning he 
 departed with kind words from host and hostess, and kind looks 
 and, peradventure, a squeeze of the hand from the daughter. 
 
 At length he aigived at the great object of his musical vaga 
 bondizing, the far-famed city of Granada, and hailed with won 
 der and delight its Moorish towers, its lovely vega, and its 
 snowy mountains glistening through a summer atmosphere. It 
 is needless to say with what eager curiosity he entered its gates 
 and wandered through its streets, and gazed upon its oriental 
 monuments. Every female face peering through a window or 
 beaming from a balcony was to him a Zorayda or a Zelinda, nor 
 could he meet a stately dame on the Alameda but he was ready 
 to fancy her a Moorish princess, and to spread his student s robe 
 beneath her feet. 
 
 His musical talent, his happy humor, his youth and his good 
 looks, won him a universal welcome in spite of his ragged robes, 
 and for several days he led a gay life m the old Moorish capital 
 
338 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 and its environs. One of his occasional haunts was the foun 
 tain of Avellanos, in the valley of Darro. It is one of the 
 popular resorts of Granada, and has been so since the days of 
 the Moors ; and here the student had an opportunity of pursu 
 ing his studies of female beauty, a branch of study to which 
 he was a little prone. 
 
 Here he would take his seat with his guitar, improvise love- 
 ditties to admiring groups of majos and majas, or prompt with 
 his music the ever-ready dance. He was thus engaged one 
 evening when he beheld a padre of the church advancing, at 
 whose approach every one touched the hat. He was evidently 
 a man of consequence ; he certainly was a mirror of good if not 
 of holy living; robust and rosy-faced, and breathing at every 
 pore with the warmth of the weather and the exercise of the 
 walk. As he passed along he would every now and then draw 
 a maravedi out of his pocket and bestow it on a beggar with 
 an air of signal beneficence. " Ah, the blessed father ! " would 
 be the cry ; " long life to him, and may he soon be a bishop ! " 
 
 To aid his steps in ascending the hill he leaned gently now 
 and then on the arm of a handmaid, evidently the pet lamb of 
 this kindest of pastors. Ah, such a damsel! Andalus from 
 head to foot ; from the rose in her hair, to the fairy shoe and 
 lacework stocking ; Andalus in every movement ; in every un 
 dulation of the body : ripe, melting Andalus ! But then so 
 modest ! so shy ! ever, with downcast eyes, listening to the 
 words of the padre ; or, if by chance she let flash a side glance, 
 it was suddenly checked and her eyes once more cast to the 
 ground. 
 
 The good padre looked benignantly on the company about 
 the fountain, and took his seat with some emphasis on a stone 
 bench, while the handmaid hastened to bring him a glass of 
 sparkling water. He sipped it deliberately and with a relish, 
 tempering it with one of those spongy pieces of frosted eggs 
 and sugar so dear to Spanish epicures, and on returning the 
 
A MODEL PASTOR 339 
 
 glass to the hand of the damsel pinched her cheek with infinite 
 loving-kindness. 
 
 "Ah, the good pastor!" whispered the student to himself; 
 " what a happiness would it be to be gathered into his fold 
 with such a pet lamb for a companion ! " 
 
 But no such good fare was likely to befall him. In vain he 
 essayed those powers of pleasing which he had found so irre 
 sistible with country curates and country lasses. Never had he 
 touched his guitar with such skill ; never had he poured forth 
 more soul-moving ditties, but he had no longer a country curate 
 or country lass to deal with. The worthy priest evidently did 
 not relish music, and the modest damsel never raised her eyes 
 from the ground. They remained but a short time at the 
 fountain ; the good padre hastened their return to Granada. 
 The damsel gave the student one shy glance in retiring ; but 
 it plucked the heart out of his bosom ! 
 
 He inquired about them after they had gone. Padre Tomas 
 was one of the saints of Granada, a model of regularity ; punc 
 tual in his hour of rising ; his hour of taking a paseo for an 
 appetite; his hours of eating; his hour of taking his siesta; 
 his hour of playing his game of tresillo, of an evening, with 
 some of the dames of the Cathedral circle ; his hour of supping, 
 and his hour of retiring to rest, to gather fresh strength for 
 another day s round of similar duties. He had an easy sleek 
 mule for his riding ; a matronly housekeeper skilled in prepar 
 ing tid-bits for his table; and the pet lamb, to smooth his 
 pillow at night and bring him his chocolate in the morning. 
 
 Adieu now to the gay, thoughtless life of the student ; the 
 side glance of a bright eye had been the undoing of him. Day 
 and night -he could not get the image of this most modest 
 damsel out of his mind. He sought the mansion of the padre. 
 Alas ! it was above the class of houses accessible to a strolling 
 student like himself. The worthy padre had no sympathy with 
 him ; he had never been Estudiante sopista, obliged to sing for 
 
340 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 his supper. He blockaded the house by day, catching a glance 
 of the damsel now and then as she appeared at a casement ; 
 but these glances only fed his flame without encouraging his 
 hope. He serenaded her balcony at night, and at one time was 
 flattered by the appearance of something white at a window. 
 Alas, it was only the night-cap of the padre. 
 
 Never was lover more devoted ; never damsel more shy : the 
 poor student was reduced to despair. At length arrived the 
 eve of St. John, when the lower classes of Granada swarm into 
 the country, dance away the afternoon, and pass midsummer s 
 night on the banks of the Darro and the Xenil. Happy are 
 they who on this eventful night can wash their faces in those 
 waters just as the cathedral bell tells midnight, for at that pre 
 cise moment they have a beautifying power. The student, hav 
 ing nothing to do, suffered himself to be carried away by the 
 holiday-seeking throng until he found himself in the narrow 
 valley of the Darro, below the lofty hill and ruddy towers of 
 the Alhambra. The dry bed of the river; the rocks which 
 border it ; the terraced gardens which overhang it, were alive 
 with variegated groups dancing under the vines and fig-trees to 
 the sound of the guitar and castanets. 
 
 The student remained for some time in doleful dumps, lean 
 ing against one of the huge misshapen stone pomegranates 
 which adorn the ends of the little bridge over the Darro. He 
 cast a wistful glance upon the merry scene, where every cavalier 
 had his dame; or, to speak more appropriately, every Jack his 
 Jill ; sighed at his own solitary state, a victim to the black eye 
 of the most unapproachable of damsels, and repined at his ragged 
 garb, which seemed to shut the gate of hope against him. 
 
 By degrees his attention was attracted to a neighbor equally 
 solitary with himself. This was a tall soldier, of a stern aspect 
 and grizzled beard, who seemed posted as a sentry at the oppo 
 site pomegranate. His face was bronzed by time ; he was 
 arrayed in ancient Spanish armor, with buckler and lance, and 
 
THE ANTIQUE SENTRY 341 
 
 stood immovable as a statue. What surprised the student was, 
 that though thus strangely equipped, he was totally unnoticed by 
 the passing throng, albeit that many almost brushed against him. 
 
 " This is a city of old time peculiarities," thought the student, 
 " and doubtless this is one of them with which the inhabitants 
 are too familiar to be surprised." His own curiosity, however, 
 was awakened, and being of a social disposition, he accosted the 
 soldier. 
 
 "A rare old suit of armor that which you wear, comrade. 
 May I ask what corps you belong to ? " 
 
 The soldier gasped out a reply from a pair of jaws which 
 seemed to have rusted on their hinges. 
 
 " The royal guard of Ferdinand and Isabella." 
 
 " Santa Maria ! Why, it is three centuries since that corps 
 was in service." 
 
 "And for three centuries have I been mounting guard. Now 
 I trust my tour of duty draws to a close. Dost thou desire 
 fortune ? " 
 
 The student held up his tattered cloak in reply. 
 
 "I understand thee. If thou hast faith and courage, follow 
 me, and thy fortune is made." 
 
 " Softly, comrade, to follow thee would require small courage 
 in one who has nothing to lose but life and an old guitar, neither 
 of much value ; but my faith is of a different matter, and not to 
 be put in temptation. If it be any criminal act by which I am 
 to mend my fortune, think not my ragged cloak will make me 
 undertake it." 
 
 The soldier turned on him a look of high displeasure. " My 
 sword," said he, " has never been drawn but in the cause of 
 the faith and the throne. I am a Cristiano viejo ; trust in me 
 and fear no evil." 
 
 The student followed him wondering. He observed that no 
 one heeded their conversation, and that the soldier made his way 
 through the various groups of idlers unnoticed, as if invisible. 
 
342 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 Crossing the bridge, the soldier led the way by a narrow and 
 steep path past a Moorish mill and aqueduct, and up the ravine 
 which separates the domains of the Generalise from those of the 
 Alhambra. The last ray of the sun shone upon the red battle 
 ments of the latter, which beetled far above ; and the convent- 
 bells were proclaiming the festival of the ensuing day. The 
 ravine was overshadowed by fig-trees, vines, and myrtles, and 
 the outer towers and walls of the fortress. It was dark and 
 lonely, and the twilight-loving bats began to flit about. At 
 length the soldier halted at a remote and ruined tower, appar 
 ently intended to guard a Moorish aqueduct. He struck the 
 foundation with the but-end of his spear. A rumbling sound 
 was heard, and the solid stones yawned apart, leaving an open 
 ing as wide as a door. 
 
 "Enter in the name of the Holy Trinity," said the soldier, 
 " and fear nothing." The student s heart quaked, but he made 
 the sign of the cross, muttered his Ave Maria, and followed his 
 mysterious guide into a deep vault cut out of the solid rock 
 under the tower, and covered with Arabic inscriptions. The 
 soldier pointed to a stone seat hewn along one side of the vault. 
 "Behold," said he, "my couch for three hundred years." The 
 bewildered student tried to force a joke. "By the blessed 
 St. Anthony," said he, "but you must have slept soundly, con 
 sidering the hardness of your couch." 
 
 " On the contrary, sleep has been a stranger to these eyes ; 
 incessant watchfulness has been my doom. Listen to my lot. 
 I was one of the royal guards of Ferdinand and Isabella ; but 
 was taken prisoner by the Moors in one of their sorties, and 
 confined a captive in this tower. When preparations were 
 made to surrender the fortress to the Christian sovereigns, I was 
 prevailed upon by an Alfaqui, a Moorish priest, to aid him in 
 secreting some of the treasures of Boabdil in this vault. I was 
 justly punished for my fault. The Alfaqui was an African 
 necromancer, and by his infernal arts cast a spell upon me to 
 
SPELL-BOUND 343 
 
 guard his treasures. Something must have happened to him, 
 for he never returned, and here have I remained ever since, 
 buried alive. Years and years have rolled away ; earthquakes 
 have shaken this hill ; I have heard stone by stone of the tower 
 above tumbling to the ground, in the natural operation of time ; 
 but the spell bound walls of this vault set both time and earth 
 quakes at defiance. 
 
 " Once every hundred years, on the festival of St. John, the 
 enchantment ceases to have thorough sway ; I am permitted to 
 go forth and post myself upon the bridge of the Darro, where 
 you met me, waiting until some one shall arrive who may have 
 power to break this magic spell. I have hitherto mounted 
 guard there in vain. I walk as in a cloud, concealed from 
 mortal sight. You are the first to accost me for now three 
 hundred years. I behold the reason. I see on your finger the 
 seal-ring of Solomon the Wise, which is proof against all enchant 
 ment. With you it remains to deliver me from this awful dun 
 geon, or to leave me to keep guard here for another hundred years." 
 
 The student listened to this tale in mute wonderment. He 
 had heard many tales of treasures shut up under strong enchant 
 ment in the vaults of the Alhambra, but had treated them as 
 fables. He now felt the value of the seal-ring, which had, in a 
 manner, been given to him by St. Cyprian. Still, though 
 armed by so potent a talisman, it is an awful thing to find him 
 self tete-a-tete in such a place with an enchanted soldier, who, 
 according to the laws of nature, ought to have been quietly in 
 his grave for nearly three centuries. 
 
 A personage of this kind, however, was quite out of the ordi 
 nary run, and not to be trifled with, and he assured him he 
 might rely upon his friendship and good will to do everything 
 in his power for his deliverance. 
 
 "I trust to a motive more powerful than friendship," said 
 the soldier. 
 
 He pointed to a ponderous iron coffer, secured by locks in- 
 
344 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 scribed with Arabic characters. "That coffer," said he, "con 
 tains countless treasure in gold and jewels and precious stones. 
 Break the magic spell by which I am enthralled, and one-half 
 of this treasure shall be thine." 
 
 "But how am I to do it?" 
 
 " The aid of a Christian priest and a Christian maid is neces 
 sary. The priest to exorcise the powers of darkness ; the dam 
 sel to touch this chest with the seal of Solomon. This must be 
 done at night. But have a care. This is solemn work, and 
 not to be effected by the carnal-minded. The priest must be 
 a Cristiano viejo a model of sanctity ; and must mortify the 
 flesh before he comes here, by a rigorous fast of four-and-twenty 
 hours : and as to the maiden, she must be above reproach, and 
 proof against temptation. Linger not in finding such aid. In 
 three days my furlough is at an end ; if not delivered before mid 
 night of the third, I shall ha veto mount guard for another century." 
 
 "Fear not," said the student, "I have in my eye the very 
 priest and damsel you describe ; but how am I to regain admis 
 sion to this tower 1 " 
 
 " The seal of Solomon will open the way for thee." 
 
 The student issued forth from the tower much more gayly 
 than he had entered. The wall closed behind him, and remained 
 solid as before. 
 
 The next morning he repaired boldly to the mansion of the 
 priest, no longer a poor strolling student, thrumming his way 
 with a guitar ; but an ambassador from the shadowy world, 
 with enchanted treasures to bestow. No particulars are told 
 of his negotiation, excepting that the zeal of the worthy priest 
 was easily kindled at the idea of rescuing an old soldier of the 
 faith and a strong-box of King Chico from the very clutches of 
 Satan ; and then what alms might be dispensed, what churches 
 built, and how many poor relatives enriched with the Moorish 
 treasure ! 
 
 As to the immaculate handmaid, she was ready to lend her 
 
THE CHASTE SALUTE 345 
 
 hand, which was all that was required, to the pious work ; and 
 if a shy glance now and then might be believed, the ambassador 
 began to find favor in her modest eyes. 
 
 The greatest difficulty, however, was the fast to which the 
 good padre had to subject himself. Twice he attempted it, 
 and twice the flesh was too strong for the spirit. It was only 
 on the third day that he was enabled to withstand the tempta 
 tions of the cupboard ; but it was still a question whether he 
 would hold out until the spell was broken. 
 
 At a late hour of the night the party groped their way up 
 the ravine by the light of a lantern, and bearing a basket with 
 provisions for exorcising the demon of hunger so soon as the 
 other demons should be laid in the Red Sea. 
 
 The seal of Solomon opened their way into the tower. They 
 found the soldier seated on the enchanted strong-box, awaiting 
 their arrival. The exorcism was performed in due style. The 
 damsel advanced and touched the locks of the coffer with the 
 seal of Solomon. The lid flew open ; and such treasures of gold 
 and jewels and precious stones as flashed upon the eye ! 
 
 " Here s cut and come again ! " cried the student, exultingly, 
 as he proceeded to cram his pockets. 
 
 " Fairly and softly," exclaimed the soldier. " Let us get the 
 coffer out entire, and then divide." 
 
 They accordingly went to work with might and main ; but 
 it was a difficult task ; the chest was enormously heavy, and 
 had been imbedded there for centuries. While they were thus 
 employed the good dominie drew on one side and made a vigor 
 ous onslaught on the basket, by way of exorcising the demon of 
 hunger which was raging in his entrails. In a little while a 
 fat capon was devoured, and washed down by a deep potation 
 of Val de penas ; and, by way of grace after meat, he gave a 
 kind-hearted kiss to the pet lamb who waited on him. It was 
 quietly done in a corner, but the tell-tale walls babbled it forth 
 as if in triumph. Never was chaste salute more awful in its 
 
346 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 effects. At the sound the soldier gave a great cry of despair ; 
 the coffer, which was half raised, fell back in its place and was 
 locked once more. Priest, student, and damsel, found them 
 selves outside of the tower, the wall of which closed with a thun 
 dering jar. Alas ! the good padre had broken his fast too soon ! 
 
 When recovered from his surprise, the student would have 
 reentered the tower, but learnt to his dismay that the damsel, 
 in her fright, had let fall the seal of Solomon; it remained 
 within the vault. 
 
 In a word, the cathedral bell tolled midnight ; the spell was 
 renewed ; the soldier was doomed to mount guard for another 
 hundred years, and there he and the treasure remain to this 
 day and all because the kind-hearted padre kissed his hand 
 maid. " Ah father ! father ! " said the student, shaking his 
 head ruefully, as they returned down the ravine, " I fear there 
 was less of the saint than the sinner in that kiss ! " 
 
 Thus ends the legend as far as it has been authenticated. 
 There is a tradition, however, that the student had brought 
 off treasure enough in his pocket to set him up in the world ; 
 that he prospered in his affairs, that the worthy Padre gave 
 him the pet lamb in marriage, by way of amends for the blunder 
 in the vault ; that the immaculate damsel proved a pattern for 
 wives as she had been for handmaids, and bore her husband 
 a numerous progeny ; that the first was a wonder ; it was born 
 seven months after her marriage, and though a seven months 
 boy, was the sturdiest of the flock. The rest were all born in 
 the ordinary course of time. 
 
 The story of the enchanted soldier remains one of the popular 
 traditions of Granada, though told in a variety of ways ; the 
 common people affirm that he still mounts guard on midsummer 
 eve, beside the gigantic stone pomegranate on the Bridge of the 
 Darro ; but remains invisible excepting to such lucky mortal as 
 may possess the seal of Solomon. 
 
THE CAVE OF SAN CYPRIAN 347 
 
 NOTES TO THE ENCHANTED SOLDIER 
 
 Among the ancient superstitions of Spain, were those of the 
 existence of profound caverns in which the magic arts were taught, 
 either by the devil in person, or some sage devoted to his service. 
 One of the most famous of these caves was at Salamanca. Don 
 Francisco de Torreblanca makes mention of it in the first book of 
 his work on magic, C. 2, No. 4. The devil was said to play the 
 part of Oracle there ; giving replies to those who repaired thither 
 to propound fateful questions, as in the celebrated cave of Tropho- 
 nius. Don Francisco, though he records this story, does not put 
 faith in it : he gives it however as certain, that a Sacristan, named 
 Clement Potosi, taught secretly the magic arts in that cave. Padre 
 Feyjoo, who inquired into the matter, reports it as a vulgar belief, 
 that the devil himself taught those arts there ; admitting only seven 
 disciples at a time, one of .whom, to be determined by lot, was to 
 be devoted to him body and soul forever. Among one of these sets 
 of students was a young man, son of the Marquis de Villena, on 
 whom, after having accomplished his studies, the lot fell. He suc 
 ceeded, however, in cheating the devil, leaving him his shadow in 
 stead of his body. 
 
 Don Juan de Dios, Professor of Humanities in the University, in 
 the early part of the last century, gives the following version of the 
 story, extracted, as he says, from an ancient manuscript. It will 
 be perceived he has marred the supernatural part of the tale, and 
 ejected the devil from it altogether. 
 
 As to the fable of the Cave of San Cyprian, says he, all that we 
 have been able to verify is, that where the stone cross stands, in 
 the small square or place called by the name of the Seminary of 
 Carvajal, there was the parochial church of San Cyprian. A de 
 scent of twenty steps led down to a subterranean Sacristy, spacious 
 and vaulted like a cave. Here a Sacristan once taught magic, 
 judicial astrology, geomancy, hydromancy, pyromancy, acromancy, 
 chiromancy, necromancy, etc. 
 
 The extract goes on to state that seven students engaged at a 
 time with the Sacristan, at a fixed stipend. Lots were cast among 
 them which one of their number should pay for the whole, with 
 the understanding that he on whom the lot fell, if he did not pay 
 promptly, should be detained in a chamber of the Sacristy until 
 
348 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 the funds were forthcoming. This became thenceforth the usual 
 practice. 
 
 On one occasion the lot fell on Henry de Villena, son of the 
 marquis of the same name. He having perceived that there had 
 been trick and shuffling in the casting of the lot, and suspecting 
 the Sacristan to be cognizant thereof, refused to pay. He was 
 forthwith left in limbo. It so happened, that in a dark corner of 
 the Sacristy was a huge jar or earthen reservoir for water, which 
 was cracked and empty. In this the youth contrived to conceal 
 himself. The Sacristan returned at night with a servant, bringing 
 lights and a supper. Unlocking the door, they found no one in 
 the vault, and a book of magic lying open on the table. They re 
 treated in dismay, leaving the door open, by which Villena made 
 his escape. The story went about that through magic he had 
 made himself invisible. The reader has now both versions of the 
 story, and may make his choice. I will only observe that the 
 sages of the Alhambra incline to the diabolical one. 
 
 This Henry de Villena flourished in the time of Juan II., King 
 of Castile, of whom he was uncle. He became famous for his 
 knowledge of the Natural Sciences ; and hence in that ignorant 
 age was stigmatized as a necromancer. Fernan Perez de Guzman, 
 in his account of distinguished men, gives him credit for great 
 learning, but says he devoted himself to the arts of divination, the 
 interpretation of dreams, of signs, and portents. 
 
 At the death of Villena, his library fell into the hands of the 
 King, who was warned that it contained books treating of magic, 
 and not proper to be read. King Juan ordered that they should 
 be transported in carts to the residence of a reverend prelate to be 
 examined. The prelate was less learned than devout. Some of 
 the books treated of mathematics, others of astronomy, with figures 
 and diagrams, and planetary signs ; others of chemistry or al 
 chemy, with foreign and mystic words. All these were necro 
 mancy in the eyes of the pious prelate, and the books were con 
 signed to the flames, like the library of Don Quixote. 
 
 THE SEAL OF SOLOMON. The device consists of two equilateral 
 triangles, interlaced so as to form a star, and surrounded by a 
 circle. According to Arab tradition, when the Most High gave 
 Solomon the choice of blessings, and he chose wisdom, there came 
 from heaven a ring, on which this device was engraven. This 
 mystic talisman was the arcanum of his wisdom, felicity, and 
 grandeur ; by this he governed and prospered. In consequence of 
 
THE SEAL OF SOLOMON 349 
 
 a temporary lapse from virtue he lost the ring in the sea, and was 
 at once reduced to the level of ordinary men. By penitence and 
 prayer he made his peace with the Deity, was permitted to find 
 his ring again in the belly of a fish, and thus recovered his celestial 
 gifts. That he might not utterly lose them again, he communi 
 cated to others the secret of the marvellous ring. 
 
 This symbolical seal, we are told, was sacrilegiously used by the 
 Mohammedan infidels ; and before them by the Arabian idolaters, 
 and before them by the Hebrews, for "diabolical enterprises and 
 abominable superstitions." Those who wish to be more thoroughly 
 informed on the subject, will do well to consult the learned Father 
 Athanasius Kirker s treatise on the Cabala jSarracenica. 
 
 A word more to the curious reader. There are many persons in 
 these skeptical times who affect to deride everything connected 
 with the occult sciences, or black art ; who have no faith in the 
 efficacy of conjurations, incantations, or divinations ; and who 
 stoutly contend that such things never had existence. To such de 
 termined unbelievers the testimony of past ages is as nothing ; they 
 require the evidence of their own senses, and deny that such arts 
 and practices have prevailed in days of yore, simply because they 
 meet with no instance of them in the present day. They cannot 
 perceive that, as the world became versed in the natural sciences, 
 the supernatural became superfluous and fell into disuse ; and that 
 the hardy inventions of art superseded the mysteries of magic. 
 Still, say the enlightened few, those mystic powers exist, though 
 in a latent state, and untasked by the ingenuity of men. A talis 
 man is still a talisman, possessing all its indwelling and awful 
 properties ; though it may have lain dormant for ages at the bot 
 tom of the sea, or in the dusty cabinet of the antiquary. 
 
 The signet of Solomon the Wise, for instance, is well known to 
 have held potent control over genii, demons, and enchantments ; 
 now who will positively assert that the same mystic signet, wher 
 ever it may exist, does not at the present moment possess the same 
 marvellous virtues which distinguished it in the olden time ? Let 
 those who doubt repair to Salamanca, delve into the cave of San 
 Cyprian, explore its hidden secrets, and decide. As to those who 
 will not be at the pains of such investigation, let them substitute 
 faith for incredulity, and receive with honest credence the fore 
 going legend. 
 
350 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 THE AUTHOR S FAREWELL TO GRANADA 
 
 MY serene and happy reign in the Alhambra was suddenly 
 brought to a close by letters which reached me, while indulging 
 in oriental luxury in the cool hall of the baths, summoning me 
 away from my Moslem elysium, to mingle once more in the 
 bustle and business of the dusty world. How was I to en 
 counter its toils and turmoils, after such a life of repose and 
 reverie ! How was I to endure its commonplace, after the 
 poetry of the Alhambra ! 
 
 But little preparation was necessary for my departure. A 
 two-wheeled vehicle, called a tartana, very much resembling a 
 covered cart, was to be the travelling equipage of a young 
 Englishman and myself through Murcia, to Alicant and Valen 
 cia, on our way to France ; and a long-limbed varlet, who had 
 been a contrabandista, and, for aught I knew, a robber, was to 
 be our guide and guard. The preparations were soon made, 
 but the departure was the difficulty. Day after day was it 
 postponed; day after day was spent in lingering about my 
 favorite haunts, and day after day they appeared more delight 
 ful in my eyes. 
 
 The social and domestic little world also, in which I had 
 been moving, had become singularly endeared to me ; and the 
 concern evinced by them at my intended departure, convinced 
 me that my kind feelings were reciprocated. Indeed, when at 
 length the day arrived, I did not dare venture upon a leave- 
 taking at the good dame Antonia s ; I saw the- soft heart of 
 little Dolores, at least, was brimful and ready for an overflow. 
 So I bade a silent adieu to the palace and its inmates, and 
 descended into the city as if intending to return. There, how 
 ever, the tartana and the guide were ready ; so, after taking a 
 noon-day s repast with my fellow-traveller at the Posada, I set 
 out with him on our journey. 
 
SORROWFUL PARTINGS 351 
 
 Humble was the cortege and melancholy the departure of 
 El Hey Chico the Second ! Manuel, the nephew of Tia Antonia, 
 Mateo, my officious but now disconsolate squire, and two or 
 three old invalids of the Alhambra with whom I had grown 
 into gossiping companionship, had come down to see me off; 
 for it is one of the good old customs of Spain, to sally forth 
 several miles to meet a coming friend, and to accompany him 
 as far on his departure. Thus then we set out, our long-legged 
 guard striding ahead, with his escopeta on his shoulder ; Manuel 
 and Mateo on each side of the tartana, and the old invalids behind. 
 
 At some little distance to the north of Granada, the road 
 gradually ascends the hills; here I alighted and walked up 
 slowly with Manuel, who took this occasion to confide to me 
 the secret of his heart and of all those tender concerns between 
 himself and Dolores, with which I had been already informed 
 by the all-knowing and all-revealing Mateo Ximenes. His 
 doctor s diploma had prepared the way for their union, and 
 nothing more was wanting but the dispensation of the Pope, on 
 account of their consanguinity. Then, if he could get the post 
 of Medico of the fortress, his happiness would be complete ! 
 I congratulated him on the judgment and good taste he had 
 shown in his choice of a helpmate ; invoked all possible felicity 
 on their union, and trusted that the abundant affections of the 
 kind-hearted little Dolores would in time have more stable 
 objects to occupy them than recreant cats and truant pigeons. 
 
 It was indeed a sorrowful parting when I took leave of these 
 good people and saw them slowly descend the hills ; now and 
 then turning round to wave me a last adieu. Manuel, it is 
 true, had cheerful prospects to console him, but poor Mateo 
 seemed perfectly cast down. It was to him a grievous fall 
 from the station of prime minister and historiographer, to his 
 old brown cloak and his starveling mystery of ribbon- weaving ; 
 and the poor devil, notwithstanding his occasional officiousness, 
 had, somehow or other, acquired a stronger hold on my sym- 
 
352 THE ALHAMBRA 
 
 pathies than I was aware of. It would have really been a con 
 solation in parting, could I have anticipated the good fortune 
 in store for him, and to which I had contributed ; for the im 
 portance I had appeared to give to his tales and gossip and 
 local knowledge, and the frequent companionship in which I had 
 indulged him in the course of my strolls, had elevated his idea 
 of his own qualifications and opened a new career to him; and 
 the son of the Alhambra has since become its regular and well- 
 paid cicerone ; insomuch that I am told he has never been obliged 
 to resume the ragged old brown cloak in which I first found him. 
 
 Towards sunset I came to where the road wound into the 
 mountains, and here I paused to take a last look at Granada. 
 The hill on which I stood commanded a glorious view of the 
 city, the Vega, and the surrounding mountains. It was at an 
 opposite point of the compass from La cuesta de las lagrimas 
 (the hill of tears), noted for the "last sigh. of the Moor." I 
 now could realize something of the feelings of poor Boabdil when 
 he bade adieu to the paradise he was leaving behind, and beheld 
 before him a rugged and sterile road conducting him to exile. 
 
 The setting sun as usual shed a melancholy effulgence on the 
 ruddy towers of the Alhambra. I could faintly discern the bal 
 conied window of the tower of Comares, where I had indulged 
 in so many delightful reveries. The bosky groves and gardens 
 about the city were richly gilded with the sunshine, the purple 
 haze of a summer evening was gathering over the Vega ; every 
 thing was lovely, but tenderly and sadly so, to my parting gaze. 
 
 "I will hasten from this prospect," thought I, "before the 
 sun is set. I will carry away a recollection of it clothed in all 
 its beauty." 
 
 With these thoughts I pursued my way among the moun 
 tains. A little further and Granada, the Vega, and the Al 
 hambra, were shut from my view ; and thus ended one of the 
 pleasantest dreams of a life, which the reader perhaps may think 
 has been but too much made up of dreams. 
 
NOTES 
 
 THE text used in this edition follows that of the revised edition 
 published a short time before Irving s death. Irving s language is 
 so simple, his statements so clear and complete, that notes are 
 largely unnecessary. Light might be thrown on the historical 
 chapters by frequent references to The Conquest of Granada. 
 The Alhambra is enjoyable and easily intelligible, however, with 
 out such references ; it therefore seems best to omit them entirely, 
 at the same time strongly recommending that The Conquest of 
 Granada be read. The notes that follow are of a general nature. 
 
 Granada of To-day. ** It is with more or less justice that the 
 modern Granada has been described as a living ruin. A few of 
 the chief streets are furbished up to a certain extent for the eyes 
 of the visitor from foreign parts ; but the side streets are full of 
 filth and decay, and some of the more remote are not even lighted 
 at night. The aristocracy prefers to spend its rents in Madrid. 
 A large proportion of the population subsists by begging alone. It 
 is still questionable whether the hoped-for results will ensue from 
 the opening of several large beetroot-sugar manufactories and the 
 improvement of the mining industry in the Sierra Nevada. , When 
 all is said, however, Granada still remains as the culminating 
 point of a journey to Spain, not only for its magnificent views of 
 the great snow-clad mountains to the S. E., but also for the glimpse 
 it affords of the past, the remains it has to present of a strange and 
 exotic culture and art." 
 
 The above paragraph is from Baedeker s Spain. It may be 
 added that at the time of the Conquest the population was proba 
 bly about five hundred thousand ; now it is estimated at sixty-five 
 2 A 353 
 
354 NOTES 
 
 thousand. The Alhambra is practically the same to-day that it 
 was when Irving visited it in 1829. Some of the rubbish about 
 the palace has been cleared away, and the work of restoration, 
 which has been going on slowly since 1828, has made some changes 
 in the way of strengthening walls and removing many coats of 
 whitewash which has for years concealed and protected beautiful 
 Moorish fresco. No one lives in the palace ; it is national property, 
 unused save as a visiting place for all tourists who travel through 
 Spain. The Darrow Edition of The Alhambra is rich in illustra 
 tions of the city and the palace as they appear to-day. 
 
 The Moors in Spain. Mohammed, born at Mecca, Arabia, 
 founded a religion called Mohammedanism or Islam. Under the 
 impetus of this religion, a large number of Arabians began a 
 long line of migrations and conquests which took them through the 
 north of Africa. In the eighth century, these Mohammedans, 
 now mixed with the Moors of Barbary, though the Arabians re 
 tained leadership, invaded Spain, and conquered the Goths, who 
 had previously invaded the country from the north. In time they 
 overran the entire peninsula, and established a strong kingdom 
 which continued for about seven hundred years. Civil dissensions 
 finally weakened the Moors, as they were popularly called, and 
 they were conquered by Ferdinand, the Christian king of Spain, 
 in 1492. He drove them back into Africa, and from this time on 
 it is hard to trace their disintegration. Andalusia, a district in 
 southern Spain principally contained in the basin of the Guadal 
 quivir, was the final stronghold of the Moors against the Christians. 
 Granada was the capital city, and The Alhambra the citadel and 
 royal palace in Granada. 
 
 Don Quixote. Irving refers frequently to a few standard works 
 in Spanish literature, most frequently to Don Quixote. Sancho, 
 Quixote s squire, is often mentioned. This work is an extravagant 
 romance by Miguel Cervantes, published early in the seventeenth 
 century. It is a great work, a little tedious in parts to the modern 
 reader, yet thoroughly enjoyable in an abridged edition such as 
 
NOTES; 355 
 
 the one recently published by The ft acmillan Company. A bio 
 graphical dictionary will give interesting facts about the author. 
 
 Lope de Vega. A dramatist and poet (1562-1635). His life 
 contains many interesting chapters, one of which has to do with 
 the Spanish Armada. Perhaps the most wonderful thing of all is 
 that he wrote eighteen hundred plays ! This seems a fairy story, 
 but it is reasonably well attested. Tickiior s History of Spanish 
 Literature contains a good account of this most prolific writer. In 
 this connection it may be noted that Ticknor, Prescott, and Irving 
 form a trio of Americans who adopted Spain as a theme for study 
 and writing. Motley, a fourth American historian, selected The 
 Netherlands. 
 
 Calderon. Another celebrated dramatist and poet (1600-1681). 
 A writer of many secular and religious plays ; a follower of Lop6 
 de Vega. 
 
 Gil Bias. A novel by Le, Sage, a French novelist and drama 
 tist (1668-1747). He became interested in Spanish literature and 
 translated a number of the works of Calderon, Lope de Vega, and 
 others. From translations he passed to original composition, but 
 borrowed freely from Spanish sources. Gil Bias is made up of 
 pictures of Spanish life in all grades of society. It is a great 
 novel, worthy to stand with Don Quixote, which it resembles in 
 many ways. 
 
 Punctuation. Though based principally on laws of common 
 sense, Punctuation is somewhat a matter of fashion and changes 
 from time to time. Irving s punctuation is as superabundant as his 
 style is leisurely, forming a marked contrast to that of most writers 
 in this commercial era of haste. The temptation has been great to 
 repunctuate ; yet aside from unavoidable changes necessary for 
 approximate uniformity, few changes have been made. The reader 
 will find it interesting to note carefully Irving s use of the comma 
 and the hyphen. 
 
356 
 
 Spanish Words. Irving rarely uses a Spanish word without 
 giving its English equivalent The following vocabulary, though 
 perhaps unnecessary, may prove a convenience : 
 
 Adalid, a chief. Corregidor, a mayor. 
 
 Alameda, a public walk. Escopetero, a musketeer. 
 
 Alcazar, a fortress. Escribano, a notary. 
 
 Alforjas, saddle-bags. Majo, a gay gallant. 
 
 Alguazil, a constable. Maravedi, a small coin. 
 
 Arriero, a muleteer. Paseo, a walk. 
 
 Atalaya, a watch-tower. Patio, a court. 
 
 Barranco, a mountain gully. Posada, an inn. 
 
 Basquifia, an outer petticoat. Puro, a cigar. 
 
 Bolero, a Spanish dance. Katero, a footpad. 
 
 Bota, a bottle. Trabuco, a carbine. 
 
 Campina, a fertile plain. Vega, a valley. 
 
 Contrabandists, a smuggler. Venta, an inn. 
 
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