THE ALHAMBRA. THE ALHAMBRA Series of Cales ano Sfcetcbes of tbe ano Spaniard. WASHINGTON IRVING. NEW YORK : JOHN B. ALDEN, 1 8 VESEY STREET. <?} ^ t ,t ITS \J\ I ( DEDICATION. TO DAVID WILKIE, ESQ., R.A. MY DEAR SIR : You may remember that, in the course of the rambles we once took together about some of the old cities of Spain, particularly Toledo and Seville, we frequently remarked the mixture of the Saracenic with the Gothic, remaining from the time of the Moors, and were more than once struck with incidents and scenes in the streets, that brought to mind passages in the "Arabian Nights." You then urged me to write something illustrative of these peculiarities; "something in the Haroun Alraschid style," that should have a dash of that Arabian spice xvhich pervades every thing in Spain. I call this to mind to show you that you are, in some degree, re sponsible for the present work; in which I have given a few " Arabesque " sketches and tales, taken from the life, or founded on local traditions, and mostly struck off during a residence in one of the most legendary and Morisco-Spanish places of the Peninsula. I inscribe this work to you, as a memorial of the pleasant scenes we have witnessed together, in that land of adventure, and as a testimony of an esteem for your worth, which can only !,e exceeded by ad miration of your talents. Your friend and fellow traveller, THE AUTHOR. CONTENTS. PAGE The Journey, 9 Government of the Ayiambra, ... 27 Interior of the Alhambra, . . . . 31 ^>The Tower of Comares, ..... 40 Reflections on the Moslem Domination in Spain, 46 The Household, 50 The Truant 55 The Author s Chamber, . . . -59 The Alhambra by Moonlight, .... 65 Inhabitants of the Alhambra, . . . .67 The Balcony, 72 NThe Adventure of the Mason, ... . .71 A Ramble among the Hills, .... 83 The Court of Lions, ...... 92 Boabdil El Chico, 99 X Mementoes of Boabdil, ..... 103 YrThe Tower of Las Infantas, . . ""., . 107 The House of the Weathercock, .... 109 A Legend of the Arabian Astrologer, . . . Ill Legend of the Three Beautiful Princesses, . . 131 Local Traditions, 157 1^ Legend of the Moor s Legacy, . . . .159 A Visitors of the Alhambra, . 182 8 CONTENTS. PAGE \Legend of Prince Ahmed Al Kamel ; or, The, Pil grim of Love, ....... 189 of the Rose of the Alhambra; or, The Page and the Ger-Falcon, .... 223 )*\The Veteran 240 TsThe Governor and the Notary, . . 242 vernor Manco and the Soldier, . . . 250 *)&,egend of the Two Discreet Statues, . . 269 Mahamad Aben Alahmar, the Founder of the Al hambra, . . . . . . . 280 Jusef Abul Hagias, the Finisher of the Alham bra, . . . . .297 THE JOURNEY. IN the spring of 1829, the author of this work, whom curiosity 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 to gether from distant regions of the globe, and a simi larity 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 remembrance of one, in whom neither time nor distance will obliterate the recollection of his gentleness and worth. And here, before setting forth, let me indulge in a few previous remarks on Spanish scenery and Spanish travelling. Many are apt to picture Spain in their imaginations as a soft southern region decked tr.it with all the luxuriant charms of voluptuous 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 moun tains and long, naked, sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and invariably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary character of Africa. What adds to this silence and loneliness, is the absence of singing birds, a natural consequence of the want of 10 THE AU1AMBJ. groves and hedges. The vulture and tf e eagle arc seen wheeling about the mountain cliffs and soaring over the plains, and groups of shy bj^rc!* stalk about the heaths, but the myriads of smaller birds, which animate the whole face of other countries, are met with in hut tew provinces of Spain, and in them chiefly amon;^ the orchards and gardens which sur round the habitations of man. In the exterior provinces, the traveller OQcasipnaLy traverses great tracts cultivated with gra the eye can re.ic .i, waving at times with verdure, at other times n;ked and sun -burn t ; but he looks round in vain for the hand that has tilled the soil : at length he perceives some village perched on a steep hill, or tugged crag, with mouldering battle ments and ruined watch-tower: a strong-hold, in old times, against civil war or Moorish inroad ; tor the custom among the peasantry of congregatin together for mutual protection, is still kept up :? most parts of S}K>in, in consequence of the : of roving freebooters* But though a great part of Spain is deiicu- the garnitute of groves and forests, and charms of ornamental cultivation, yet its scenery has something of a high and loity character to compen sate the want. It partakes sorrfething of the attri- butes of its people, and I think that I better under stand the proud, hardy, frugal and ,v Span iard, his manly defiance of hardships, and contempt of effeminate indulgences, since 1 have seen the coun- trv r,.- re is something, too, in the sternly simple es of the Spanish landscape, that impresses on the soul a feeling of sublimity. The immense plains of the Castiles and La Mancha, extending as far as the eye can reach, derive an interest from their very nakedness and imn . ave something ol <! solemn grandeur of the ocean. In I THE JOUENEY. 11 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, 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 herdsmen, 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 trabuchp ; and, per haps, a servant on foot with a blunderbuss on his shoulder ; and the most petty journey is undertaken with the preparations of a warlike enterprse. -* 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, con gregate in troops, and set off in large and well- armed trains on appointed days, while individual 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 wanderer of the land, traversing 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 (or saddle-bags,) of coarse cloth, hold his scanty stock of provisions ; a leathern bottle hanging at his saddle-bow, contains 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 is his pillow. His low but clear-limbed and sinewy form betokens strength ; his complexion is dark and sun- 1.2 Jt LLJL^I Ji.JuXJ. Durnt ; his eye resolute, but quiet in its expression, except when kindled by sudden emotion ; his de meanour is frank, manly, and courteous, and he never passes you without a grave salutation " Dios guarda a usted ! " " Vay usted con Dios cabal- lero ! " " God guard you 1 " " God be with you ! cavalier ! " 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 down for desperate defence. But their united numbers render them secure against petty bands of marauders, and the solitary bancla- jero. armed to the teeth, and mounted on his An- dalusian steed, hovers about them, like a pirate about a merchant convoy, without daring to make an assault. The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of songs and ballads, with which to beguile his in cessant way-faring. The airs are rude and simple, consisting of but few inflexions. These he chants forth with a loud voice, and long drawling cadence, seated sideways on his mule, who seems to listen with in finite 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 contra- bandista, or hardy bandalero ; 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 something wildly pleasing in listening to these ditties among the rude and lonely scenrs they illus- tratf " as they arv, by "he QC>,:. jing;c of the mule-bell. THE JOURNEY. 18 It has a most picturesque effect, also, to meet a train of muleteers 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 ad monishing some tardy or wandering animal, or chanting, at the full stretch of his lungs, some tra ditionary ballad. At length you see the mules slowly winding along the cragged defile, sometimes de scending precipitous cliffs, so as to present them selves in full relief against the sky, sometimes toiling up the deep arid chasms below you. As they ap proach, you descry their gay decorations of worsted tufts tassels, and saddle-cloths ; while, as they pass by, the ever ready tralrucho, slung behind their packs and saddles, gives a hint of the insecurity of the road. The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which \\e are about to penetrate, is one of the most moun tainous regions of Spain. Vast sierras or chains of mountains, destitute of shrub or tree, and mottled with variegated marbles and granites, elevate their sun-burnt summits against a deep blue sky, yet in their rugged bosoms lie engulfed the most verdant and fertile valley, where the desert and the garden strive for mastery, and the very rock, as it were, com pelled 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 battle ments, or of ruined watch-towers perched on lofty peaks, carry the mind back to the chivalrous days of Christian and Moslem warfare, and to the romantic struggle for the conquest of Granada. In traversing their 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- 14 THE ALHAMBRA. dizzy precipices, without parapet to guard him from the gulfs below, and then will plunge down steep and dark and dangerous declivities. Sometimes it struggles through rugged barrancos, or ravines, worn by water torrents ; the obscure paths of the Contra- bandista, while ever and anon, the ominous cross, the memento 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 bandalero. Sometimes, in wind ing through the narrow valleys, he is startled by a hoarse bellowing, and beholds above him, on some green fold of the mountain side, a herd of fierce An- dalusian bulls, destined for the combat of the arena. There is something awful in the contemplation of tnese terrific animals, clothed with tremendous strength, and ranging their native pastures, in un tamed 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 bellowings of these bulls, and their menacing aspect as they look down from their rocky height, give additional wild- ness to the savage scenery around. I have been betrayed unconsciously into a longer disquisition than I had intended on the several fea tures of Spanish travelling ; but there is a romance about all the recollections of the Peninsula that is dear to the imagination. 1 It was on the first of May that my companion ^and myself set forth from Seville, on our route to Granada. We had made all due preparations for the nature of our journey, which lay through moun tainous regions where the roads are little better than mere mule paths, and too frequently beset by robbers. The most valuable part of our luggage had been for- wajrded by the arrieros ; we retained merely clothing THE JOURNEY. 15 and necessaries for the journey, and money for the expenses of the road, with a sufficient surplus of the latter to satisfy the expectations of robbers, should we be assailed, and to save ourselves from the rough treatment that awaits the too wary and emptyhanded traveller. A couple of stout hired steeds were pro vided for ourselves, and a third for our scanty luggage, and for the conveyance of a sturdy Biscayan lad of about twenty years of age, who was to guide us through the perplexed mazes of the mountain roads, to take care of our horses, to act occasionally as our valet, and at all times as our guard ; for he had a formidable trabucho, or carbine, to defend us from rateros, or solitary footpads, about which weapon he made much vain-glorious boast, though, to the dis credit of his generalship, I must say, that it generally hung unloaded behind his saddle. He was, however, a raithful, cheery, kind-hearted creature, full of saws and proverbs as that miracle of squires, the renowned Sancho himself, whose name we bestowed upon him ; and, like a true Spaniard, though treated by us with companionable familiarity, he never for a moment in his utmost hilarity, outstripped the bounds of respect ful decorum. Thus equipped and attended, we set out on our journey with a genuine disposition to be pleased : with such a disposition, what a country is Spain for a traveller, where the most miserable inn is as full of adventure as an enchanted castle, and every meal is in itself an achievement ! Let others repine at the lack of turnpike roads and sumptuous hotels, ami all the elaborate comforts of a country cultivated into tameness and common-place, but give me the rude mountain scramble, the roving haphazard way-faring, the frank, hospitable, though" half wild manners, that give such a true game flavour to romantic Spain ! Our first evening s entertainment had a relish of the kind. We arrived after sunset at a little town 16 THE ALHAMBRA. among the hills, after a fatiguing journey over a wide houseless plain, where we had been repeatedly drenched with showers. In the inn were quartered a party of Miguelistas, who were patrolling the coun try in pursuit of robbers. The appearance of for eigners like ourselves was unusual in this remote town. Mine host with two or three old gossipping 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 mean time the magnificent distribution of a few cigars had won the hearts of all around us. In a little while the whole commu nity seemed put in agitation to make us welcome. The Corregidor himself waited upon us, and a great rush-bottomed armed chair was ostentatiously bol stered into our room by our landlady, for the accom modation of that important personage. The com mander of the patrol took supper with us : a surly, talking, laughing, swaggering Andaluz, who had made a campaign in South America, and recounted his exploits in love and war with much pomp of praise and vehemence of gesticulation, and myste rious rolling of the eye. He told us he had a list of all the robbers in the country, and meant to ferret ^ut every mother s son of them ; he offered us at the same time some of his soldiers as an escort. " One is enough to protect you, Signors ; the robbers 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 protection of our re doubtable Squire Sancho, we were not afraid of all the ladrones of Andalusia. THE JOURNEY. 17 While we were supping with our Andalusian friend, we heard the notes of a guitar and the click of castanets, and presently, a chorus of voices, sing ing a popular air. In fact, mine host had gathered together the amateur singers and musicians and the rustic belles of the neighbourhood, and on going forth, the court-yard of the inn presented a scene of true Spanish festivity. We took our seats with mine host and hostess and the commander of the patrol, under the archway of the court. The guitar passed from hand to hand, but a jovial shoemaker was the Orpjieus_of the place. He was a pleasant looking felTow with huge black whiskers and a rogu ish eye. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows : he touched the guitar with masterly skill, and sang little amorous ditties with an expressive leer at. ibc women, with whom he was evidently a favour it-? He afterwards danced a fandango with a buxom Andalusian damsel, to the great delight of the spec tators. But none of the females present could com pare with mine host s pretty daughter Josefa, who had slipped away and made her toilette for the occa sion, and had adorned her head with roses ; and also distinguished herself in a bolero with -a handsome young dragoon. We had ordered our host to let wine and refreshments circulate freely among the company, yet, though there was a motley assem blage 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 any thing 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. 18 THE ALHAMBRA. I am not writing a regular narrair, e, and do not pretend to give the varied events of several days rambling over hill and dale, and moor and moun tain. We travelled in true contrabandist* style, tak ing every thing, rough and smooth, as we found it, and mingling with all classes and conditions in a kind of vagabond companionship. It is the true way to travel in Srain. Knowing the scanty larders of the inns, and the naked tracts of country the trav eller has often to traverse, we had taken care, on starting, to have the alforjas, or saddle-bags, of our Squire well stocked with cold provisions, and his beta, or leathern bottle, which was of portly dimen sions, filled to the neck with choice Valdepenas wine. As this was a munition for our campaign more im portant than even his trabucho, we exhorted him to have an eye to it, and I will do him the justice to say that his namesake, the trencher-loving Sancho him self, could not excel him as a provident purveyor. Though the alforjas and beta were repeatedly and vigorously assailed throughout the journey, they ap peared to have a miraculous property of being never empty ; for our vigilant Squire took care to sack every thing that remained from our evening repasts at the inns, to supply our next day s luncheon. What luxurious noontide repasts have we made on the green sward by the side of a brook or fountain under a shady tree, and then what delicious siestas on our cloaks spread out on the herbage ! W T e paused one day at noon, for a repast of the kind. It was in a pleasant little green meadow, sur rounded by hills covered with olive trees. Our cloaks were spread on the grass under an elm tree, by the side of a babbling rivulet : our horses were tethered where they might crop the herbage, and Sancho produced his alforjas with an air of triumph. They contained the contributions of f&ur days jour neying, but had been signally enriched hv the for- THE JOURNEY. 19 aging of the previous evening, in a plenteous inn at Antequera. Our Squire drew forth the heterogene ous contents one by one, and they seemed to have no end. First came forth a shoulder of roasted kid, very little the worse for wear, then an entire par tridge, 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 bn^acl and a rabble route of oranges, figs, raisins, and walnuts. His beta also had been recruited with some excel lent wine of Malaga. At ever) fresh apparition from his larder, he could enjoy our ludicrous surprise, throwing himself back on the grass arid shouting with laughter. Nothing- pleased this simple-hearted varlet more than to be compared, for his devotion to the trencher, to the renowned rquire of Don Quixote. He was well versed in the history of the Don, and, like most of the common people of Spain, he firmly believed it to be a true history. " All that, however, happened a long time ago, Signor," said he to me, one day, with an inquiring look. "A very long time," was the reply. " I dare say, more than a thousand years?" still looking dubiously. " I dare say? not less." The squire was satisfied. As we were making our repast above described, and diverting ourselves with the simple drollery of our squire, a solitary beggar approached us, who had almost the look of a pilgrim. He was evidently very old, with a gray beard, and supported himself on a staff, yet age had not borne 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 oid and patched, was decent, his de- 20 THE ALHAMBRA. meanour manly, and he addressed us with that grave courtesy that is to be remarked in the lowest Span iard. We were in a favourable mood for such a vis itor, and in a freak of capricious charity gave him some silver, a loaf of fine whoaten bread, and a gob let of our choice wine of Malaga. He received them thankfully, but without any grovelling tribute of grat itude. Tasting the wine, he held it up to the light, with a slight beam of surprise in his eye ; then quaff ing 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: " Bendita 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, Signors," re plied he, " the wine I had to drink, or leave ; but the bread I must take home to share with my family." Our man Sancho sought our eye, and reading per mission 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 accord ingly 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 measured manner and a quiet self- possession about the old man that made me think 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 desti tute. " When I was a young man," said he, " noth ing 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." THE JOURNEY. 21 Still he was not -a regular mendicant, it was not until recently that want had driven him to this de gradation, and he gave a touching picture of the struggle between hunger and pride, when abject des titution 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 hab itations. When almost dead with hunger, he ap plied at the door of a venta, or country inn. " Per- dona usted per Dios hermano!" (excuse us, brother, for God s sake !) was the reply ; the usual mode in Spain of refusing 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 worth less wretched man as I live for ! But, when 1 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 distance from the road, and entered the outer gate of the court-yard. The door was shut, but there were two young signcras at a window. I approached, and begged : * Perclona usted per Dios hermano! (excuse us, brother, for God s sake !) and the window closed. I crept out of the court-yard ; but hunger overcame me, and my heart gave way. I thought my hour was at hand. So I laid myself down at the gate, commended my self 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 un covered my head, had pity on my gray hairs, took rne into his house and gave me food. So, Signers, you see that we should always put confidence in the protection of the "Virgin." The old man was "on his way to his native place Archidona, which was close by the summit of a 22 THE ALHAMBEA. steep and rugged mountain. He pointed to the ru ms of its old Moorish 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 king looked down from his cas tle 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 of the mountain, 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 on the margin of the rock to this day. And see, Signers, yonder is the road by which the queen and her army mounted, you see it like a riband up the mountain side ; but the miracle is, that, though it can be seen at a dis tance, when you come near, it disappears. The ideal road to which he pointed, was evidently a sandy ra vine of the mountain, which looked narrow and de fined 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 earth by the Moor ish king. His own house was next to the founda tions of the castle. The curate and notary dreamt 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 pick-axes and spades at night. What they found nobody knows ; they be came 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, which prevail throughout Spain, are most current among the poorest people. It is thus kind nature consoles with shadows for the lack of substantials. The thirsty man dreams of fountnins THE JOURNEY. 23 and roaring streams, the hungry man of ideal ban quets, and the poor man of heaps of hidden gold ; nothing certainly is more magnificent than the imagination of a beggar. The last travelling sketch which I shall give is a curious scene at the little city of Loxa. This was a famous belligerent frontier post, in the time of the Moors, and repulsed Ferdinand from its walls. It was the strong-hold of old Ali Atar, the father-in-law of Boabclil, when that fiery veteran sallied forth with his son-in law, on that disastrous inroad, that ended in the death of the chief ain, and the capture of the monarch. Loxa is wildly situated in a broken mountain pass, on the banks of the Xenil, among rocks and groves, and meadows and gardens. The people seem still to retain the bold fiery spirit of the olden time. Our inn was suited to the place. It was kept by a young, handsome, Anduiusian widow, whose trim busquina of black silk *> nged with bugles, set off the play of a graceful form, and round pliant limbs. Her step was 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 An- dalusian 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 ; bot- 24 TEE ALHAMBEA. tinas or spatterdashes of the finest russet leather, elegantly worked and open at the calves to show his stockings, and russet shoes setting off a well- shaped 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 similar style, and alrno-it 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-mouth ed blunderbusses hung behind the saddle. He had the air of those contrabandistas that 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 favourite admirer of the widow. In fact, the whole inn and its inmates had something of a contrabandista aspect, and the blunderbuss stood in a corner beside the guitar. The horseman I have mentioned, passed his evening in th; posada, and sang several bold mountain ro mances with great spirit. A 5 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 th i road. My companion, with a prompt generosity, natural to him, ordered them a supper and a bed, and gave them a supply of money to help them for ward towards their home, As the evening advanced, the dramatis persona? .hickened. A large man, about sixty years of age, of powerful frame, came strolling in, to gossip with THE JOURNEY. 25 mine hostess. He was dressed in the ordinary An- dalusian costume, but had a huge sabre tucked under his arm, wore large moustaches and had something of a lofty swaggering air. Every one seemed to regard him with great deference. Our man, Sancho, whispered to us that he was Don Ventura Rodriguez, the hero and champion of Loxa, famous for his prowess and the strength of his arm. In the time of the French invasion, he sur prised six troopers who were asleep. He first secured their horses, then attacked them with his saure; killed some, and took the rest prisoner* For this exploit, the king allows him a peceta, (the fifth of a duro, or dollar,) per day, and has dignified him with the title of Don. I was amused to notice his swelling language and demeanour. He was evidently a thorough AncUlusian, boastful as he was brave. His sabre was always in his hand, or under his arm. He car ries tf always about with him as a child does a doll, calls it his Santa Teresa, and says, that when he draws it, " tembla la tierra ! " (the earth trembles !) I sat until a late hour listening to the varied themes ot this motley groupe, who mingled toge ther with The unreserve of a Spanish posada. We had contrabandista songs, stories of robbers, gue rilla exploits, and Moorish legends. The last on* from our handsome landlady, who gave a poeti cal account of the infiernos, or infernal regions of Loxa dark caverns, in which subterraneous streams and waterfalls make a mysterious sound. The common people say they are money coiners, shut up there from the time of the Moors, and that the Moorish kings kept their treasures in these caverns. Were it the purport of this work, I could fill its pages with the incidents and scenes of our ram- 26 THE ALHAMBRA. bling expedition, but other themes invite me. Jour neying in this manner, we at length emerged from the mountains, and entered upon the beautiful Vega of Granada. Here we took our last mid day s repast under a grove of olive trees, on the borders of a rivulet, with the old Moorish capiteil in the distance, dominated by the ruddy towers of the Alhambra, while far above it the snowy sum mits of the Sierra Nevada shone like silver. The day was without a cloud, and the heat of the sun tempered by cool breezes from the mountains ; af ter our repast, we spread our cloaks and took our last siesta, lulled by the humming of bees among the flowers, and the notes of the ring doves from the neighbouring olive trees. When the sultry hours were past, we resumed our journey, and after pass ing between hedges of aloes and Indian figs, and through a wilderness of gardens, arrived about sun set at the gates of Granada. GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the his torical and poetical, the Alhambra of Grenada is as much an object of veneration as is the Caaba, or sacred house of Mecca, to all true Moslem pilgrims. How many legend s land traditions, true and fabulous, how many songs and romances, Spanish and Ara bian, of love and war and chivalry, are associated with this romantic pile ! The reader may judge, therefore, of our delight, when, shortly after our ar rival in Granada, the governor of Alhambra gave us permission to occupy his vacant apartments in the Moorish palace. My companion was soon sum moned away by the duties of his station, but I re mained for several months spell-bound in the old enchanted pile. The following papers are the re sult of my reveries and researches, during that de licious thraldom. If they have the power of im parting any of the witching charms of the place to the imagination of the reader, he will not repine at lingering with me for a season in the legendary halls of the Alhambra. THE Alhambra is an ancient fortress or castel lated palace of the Moorish kings of Granada, *vhere they held dominion over this their coasted terrestrial paradise, and made their last stand for empire in Spain. The palace occupies but a por tion of the fortress, the walls of which, studded with towers, stretch irregularly round the whole 28 THE ALHAMBRA. crejt of a lofty hill that overlooks the city, and forms a spire of the Sierra Nevada, or Snowy Mountain. In the time of the Moors, the fortress was capa ble Gf containing an army of forty thousand men within its precincts, and served occasionally as a atrong-hold of the sovereigns against their rebel lious subjects. After the kingdom had passed into the hands of the Christians, the Alhambra con tinued a royal demesne, and was occasionally in habited by the Castilian monarchs. The Emperor Charles V. began 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 cen tury. Great preparations were made for their recep tion. 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 transient ; arid, 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 ex tended 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 old Moorish palace, and never descended into Granada without some mili tary 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 walls became desolate, and some of them fell to ruin ; the gar- GOVERXMEJST OF THE ALHANBRA. t\) dens were destroyed, and the fountains ceased to [lay. By degrees the dwellings became filled up with a loose and lawless population ; cohtrabandis- lat, who availed themselves of its independent ju- risdk tion, to carry on a wide and daring course of smuggling, and thieves and rogues of all sorts, who made this their place of refuge, from whence they might depredate upon Granada and its vicinity. The strong arm of government at length interposed. The whole community was thoroughly sifted ; none were suffered to remain but such" as were of honest character and had legitimate right to a residence ; the greater part of the houses were demolished, and a mere hamlat left, with the parochial church and the Franciscan convent. During the recent troubles in Spain, when Gra nada was in the hands of the French, the Alham- bra was garrisoned by their troops, and the palace was occasionally inhabited by the French comman der. With that enlightened taste which has ever distinguished the French nation in their conquests, this monument oi Moorish elegance and grandeur was rescued from the absolute ruin and desolation that were overwhelming it. The roofs were re paired, the saloons and galleries protected from the weather, the gardens cultivated, the water courses restored, the fountains once more made to throw up their sparKling showers : and Spain may thank her invaders for having preserved to her the most beautiful and interesting of her historical mon uments. On the departure of the French, they blew up several towers of the outer wall, and left the iortili.- cations scarcely tenable. Since that time, the mili tary importance of the post is at an end. The gar rison is a handful of invalid soldiers, whose princi pal duty is U guard some of the outer towers, which serve, occasionally, as a prison of state ; and 80 THE ALHAMBRA. the governor, abandoning the lofty hill of the Alham- bra, resides in the centre of Granada, for the more convenient despatch of his official duties. I can not conclude this brief notice of the state of the fortress, without bearing testimony to the honour able exertions of its present commander, Don Fran cisco de Salis 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 edifice might still be preserved to adorn the land, and to attract the curious and enlightened ot every clime, for many generations. INTERIOR ". OF THE ALHAMBRA. THE Alhambra has been so often and so minutely described by travellers, that a mere sketch will probably be sufficient for the reader to refresh his recollection ; I will give, therefore, a brief account of our visit to it the morning after our arrival in Granada. Leaving our posada of La Espada, we traversed the renowned square of the Vivarrambla, once the scene of Moorish jousts and tournaments, now a crowded market place. From thence we proceeded along the Zacatin, the main street of what was the great Bazaar, in the time of the Moors, where the small shops and narrow alleys stiil retain their Ori ental 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 chronicle and song. This street led up to a mansion gateway of Grecian archi tecture, built by Charles V., forming the entrance to the domains of the Alhambra. At the gate were two or three ragged arid super annuated soldiers dozing on a stone bench, the suc cessors of the Zegris and the Abencejjages ; while a tall, meagre "^ppftt, whose rusty brown cloak was, evidently, intended to conceal the ragged state of his nether garments, was lounging in the sunshine, 32 THE ALHAMBRA. and gossipping 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 pre sume ? " " Ninguno mas pues, sefior, soy hijo de la Al hambra." (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 as sumed a dignity in my eyes. It was emblematic o< the features of the place, and became the progeny of a ruin. I put some farther questions to him, and found his title was legitimate. His family had lived in the fortress from generation to generation ever since the time of the conquest. His name was Mateo Xim- cnes. "Then, perhaps," said I, "you may^be a descendant from the great Cardinal Ximenes." " Dios sabe ! God knows, senor. It may be so. We are the oldest family in the Alhambra. Vtejos Cristianos, old Christians, without any taint of Moor or Jew. I know we belong to some great family or other, but I forget who. My father knows all about it. He has the coat of arms hanging up in his cot tage, up in the fortress." There is never a 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 deeg -iarrow ravine, filled with beautiful groves, with a steep avenue and various foot-paths winding through it, bordered with INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 33 stone seats and ornamented with fountains. To our left, we beheld the towers of the Alhambra 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 Vermejos, or Vermilion ?o\vc .r3, so called from their ruddy hue. No one knows their origin. They are of a date much an terior to the Alhambra. Some suppose them to have been built by the Romans ; others, by some wander ing colony of rV.crucip.ri3. 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 groupe 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 o c petty causes ; a ciibtom common to the Ori ental nations, and occasionally alluded to in the sacred Scriptures. " The great vestibule, or porch of the gate, is formed Dy an immense Arabian arch of the horseshoe form, vhich springs to half the height of the tower. On the key-stone of this arch is engraven a gigantic hand., Within the vestibule, on the key-stone of the portal, is engraven, in like manner, a gigantic key. Those who pretend to some knowledge of Mahometan symbols, affirm, that the hand is the emblem of doc trine, and the key, of faith ; the latter, they add, was emblazoned on the standard of the Moslems when they subdued Andalusia, in opposition to the Chris tian emblem of the cross. A different explanation, 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 every thing Moorisn, anu 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 4cey were magical devices on which the fate of the Alhambra depended. The Moorish king who built it was a great magician, and, as some believed, had sold himself to the devil, and had laid" the whole fortress under a magic spell. By this means it hail remained standing for several hundred years, in de- Sance of storms and earthquakes, while almost all the other buildings of the Moors had fallen ro iuin *ncl disappeared. The spell, the tradition >%<, <in to say, would last until the hand on the cuter arch should reach down aitd 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 ominous prediction, we ven tured to pass through the spell-bound gateway, feel ing some little assurance against magic art in the. protection of the Virgin, a statue of whom we o,b- served 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, 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 inde fatigable in their exertions to obtain that element in its crystal purity. In front of this esplanr.de is the splendid pib, commenced by Charles V., intended, it is snid, to , IXTEltl OR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 25 eciujse the residence of the Moslem kings. With all ici grandeur and architectural merit, it appeared to Us like an arrogant intrusion, and passing by it we entered a simple unostentatious portal^ opening into the interior of the Moorish palace. The transition was almost magical ; it seemed as if we were at once transported into other times and another realm, and were treacling the scenes of Arabian story., We found ourselves in a great court paved with white marble and decorated at each end with light Moorish peristyles. It is called the court of the Alberca. In the centre was an immense basin, or fish-pool, a hundred and thirty feet in length, by thirty in breadth, stocked with gold-fish, and bordered by hedges of roses. At the upper end of this court, rose the great tower of Comares. From the lower end, we passed through a Moor ish arch-way into .the renowned Court of Lions. There is no part of the edifice that gives us a more complete idea of its original beauty and magnifi cence than this; for none has suffered so little from the ravages of time. In the centre stands the foun tain famous in song and story. The alabaster ba sins still shed their diamond drops, and the twelve lions which support them, cast forth their crystal streams as in the days of Boabdil. The court is laid out in flower beds, and surrounded by light Arabian arcades of open filigree work, supported by slender pillars of white marble. The architecture, like that of all the other parts of the palace, is char acterized by elegance, rather than grandeur, be speaking a delicate and graceful taste, and a dispo sition to indolent enjoyment. When we look upon the fairy tracery of the peristyles, and the appar ently fragile fret-work of the walls, it is difficult to believe that so much has survived the wear and ten of centuries, the shocks of earthquakes, the violence of war, and the quiet, though no less baneful, pilfer- 36 THE ALHAMEEA. ings 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 portal ncnly adorned opens into-a lofty hall paved with white marble, and called the Hall of the \vo Sisters. A cupola or lantern admits a tempered fight from above, and a f ee circulation of air. The lower part of the walls ii ir crusted with beautiful Moorish tiles, on some oi which are emblazoned the escutcheons of- the Moor ish monarchs : the upper part is faced with the fine stucco work invented at Damascus, consisting cl large plates cast in moulds and artfully joined. >o as lo have the appearance cf having been hbor!c i r ^ sculptured by the hand into light relievos and fanci ful arabesques, intermingled with texts of the Koran, and poetical inscriptions in Arabian and Celtic char acters. These decorations of the walls and cupolas are richly gilded, and the interstices panelled with lapis lazuli and other brilliant and enduring colours. On each slide of the wall are recesses for ottomans and arches. Above an inner porch, is a balcony which communicated with the. women s apartment. The latticed balconies still remain, from whence the dark-eyed beauties of the harem might gaze unseen upon the entertainments of the hall below. it is impossible to contemplate this once favourite abode of Oriental manners, without feeling the early associations of Arabian romance, and almost ex pecting to see the white arm of some mysterious princess beckoning from the balcony, or some dark eye sparkling through the km ice. The abode of beauty is here, as if it had bc; j n inhabited but yes terday but where are the Zoraydas and Linde- raxas ! v On the opposite side of the court of Lions, is the hall of the Abencerrages/so called from the gallant cavaliers of that illustrious line, who were here per- l&TERl-Qa OF THE ALHAMBRA. 87 ficliously massacred. There are some who doubt the whole truth of this story, but our humble at tendant, Mateo, pointed out the very wicket of the portal through which they are said to have been in troduced, one by one, and the white marble fountain in the centre of the hall, where they were beheaded. He showed us also certain broad ruddy stains in the pavement, traces of their blood, which, according to popular belief, can never be effaced. Finding- we listened to him with easy faith, he added, that there was often heard at night, in the Court of the Lions, a low confused sound, resembling the murmurings of a multitude ; with now and then a faint tinkling, like the distant clank of chains. These noises are probably produced by the bubbling currents and tinkling falls of water, conducted under the pave ment through pipes and channels to supply the foun tains ; but according to the legend of the son of the Alhambra, they are made by the spirits of the mur dered Abencerrages, who nightly haunt the scene of their suffering, and invoke the vengeance of Heaven on their destroyer. From the Court of Lions, we retraced our steps through the court of the Alberca, or great fish-pool, crossing which, we proceeded to the tower of Co- mares, so called from the name of the Arabian architect. It is of massive strength, and lofty height, domineering over the rest of the edifice, and overhanging the steep hill-side, which descends ab- rupily to the banks of the Darro. A Moorish arch way admitted us into a vast and lofty hall, which occupies the interior of the tower, and was the grand audience chamber of the Moslem monarchs, thence called the hall of Ambassadors. It still bears the traces of past magnificence. The walls are richly stuccoed and decorated with arabesques, the vaulted ceilings of cedar wood, almost lost in ob scurity from its height, still gleam with rich gilding 8 THE ALHAMBRA. and the brilliant tints of the Arabian pencil. On three sides of the saloon, are deep windows, cut through the immense thickness of the walls, the balconies of which, looking clown upon the verdant vallty ^f the Darro, the streets and convents of the Aibaycin, and command a prospect of the distant Vega. I might go on to describe the other delight ful apartments of this side of the palace ; the To- cador or toilet of the Queen, an open belvedere on the summit of the tower, where the Moorish^ sultanas enjoyed the pure breezes from the mountain and the prospect of the surrounding paradise. The secluded little patio or garden of Lindaraxa, with its alabaster fountain, its thickets of roses and inyitles, of citrons and oranges. The cool halls and grcttoes of the baths, where the glare and heat of day are tempered into a self-mysterious light and a pervading fresh ness. But I appear to dwell minutely on these scenes. My object is merely to give the reader a general introduction into an abode, where, if dis posed, he may linger and loiter with me through the remainder of this work, gradually becoming familiar with all its beauties. An abundant supply of water, brought from the mountains by old Moorish aqueducts, circulates throughout the palace, supplying its baths and fish- pools, sparkling in jets within its halls, or murmur ing in channels along the marble pavements. When it has paid its tribute to the royal pile, and visited ., gardens and pastures, it flows down the long avv.;. a e leading to the city, tinkling in rills, gushing in foun tains, and maintaining a perpetual verdure in those groves that embower and beautify the whole hiil of the Aihambra. Those, only, who have sojourned in the ardent climates of the South, can appreciate the delights of an abode combining Lie breezy coolness of the INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 39 mountain with the freshness and verdure of the valley. While the city below pants with the noon-tide heat, and the parched Vega trembles to the eye, the delicate airs from the Sierra Nevada play through the lofty halls, bringing 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. THE TOWER OF CO MARES. THE reader has had a sketch of the interior ot the Alnambra, and may be desirous of a general idea of its vicinity. The morning is serene and lovely; the sun has not gained sufficient power to destroy the freshness of the night ; we will 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 steps into this -vestibule ornamented with rich tracery, which opens to the hall of Ambassadors. We will not enter the hall, however, but turn to the left, to this small door, opening in the wall. Have a care ! here are steep winding steps and but scanty light. Yet, up this narrow, obscure and winding staircase, the proud monarchs of Granada and their queens have often ascended to the battlements of the tower to watch the approach of Christian armies; or to gaze on the battles in the Vega. At length we are upon the terraced roof, and may take breath for a moment, while we cast a general eye over the splendid panorama of city and country, of rocky mountain, verdant valley and fertile plain ; of castle, cathedral, Moorish towers and Gothic domes, train* bling ruins and blooming groves. Let us approach the battlements and cast cur eyes immediately below. See, on this side we have the whole plan of the Alhambra laid open to us, and can look clown into its courts and gardens. At the THE TO WEE OF COMARES. 41 foot of the tower is the Court of the Alberca with its great tank or fish-pool bordered with flowers ; and yonder is the Court of Lions, with its famous foun tain, and its light Moorish arcades ; and in the cen- rre of the pile is the little garden of Lindaraxa, Buried in the heart of the building", with its roses t-jd citrons and shrubbery of emerald green. That belt of battlements studded with square towers, straggling round the whole brow of the hill, is the outer boundary of the fortress. Some of the to vers, you may perceive, are in ruins, and their massive fragments are buried among vines, fig-trees and ak)es. LeHifi look on this northern side of the tower. It is a giddy height ; the very foundations of the tower 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 earthquakes, which from time to time have thrown Granada into consternation ; and which, sooner or later, must re duce this crumbling pile to a mere mass of ruin. The deep narrow glen 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, occa sionally, in search of the precious 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 refreshment of their gardens. The airy palace with its tall white towers and long arcades, which breast yon mountain, among pomp ous groves and hanging gardens, is the Generaliffe, 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 42 THE ALHAMBRA. naked summit of the height above it, where you be hold some shapeless ruins, is tBe Silla del Moro, or seat of the Moor ; so called from having been a re treat 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 ave nue of trees beyond, is the Alameda along the bank of the Darro, a favourite resort in evenings, 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 there are but a few loitering monks to be seen there, and a group of water carriers from the fountain of Avellanos. You start ! Tis nothing but a hawk we have frightened from his nest. This old tower is a com plete brooding-place for vagrant birds. The swal low 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 ut ters 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 ruins above the Generaliffe. Let us leave this side of the tower and turn our eyes to the west. Here you behold in the distance a range of mountains bounding the Vega, the ancient barrier between Moslem Granada and the land of the Christians. Among the heights you may still discern warrior towns, whose gray walls and battle ments seem of a piece with the rocks on which they r/re built ; while here and there is a solitary atalaya or watch-tower, mounted on some lofty point, and looking down as ii it were from the sky, into the val leys on either side. It was down the defiles of these THE TOWER OF COMAEES. 43 mountains, by the pass of Lope, that the Christian armies descended into the Vega. It was round the base of yon gray snd naked mountain, almost insu lated from the rest, and stretching its ba i rocky pro montory into the bosom of the plain, that the invad ing squadrons would come bursting into view, with flaunting banners and the clangour of drums and trumpets. How changed is the scene ! Instead cf the glittering line of mailed warriors, we behold the patient train of the toilful muleteer, slowly moving along the skirts of the mountain. Behind that promontory, is the eventful bridge of Pinos, renowned for many a bloody strife between Moors and Christians ; but still more renowned as being the place where Columbus was overtaken and called back by the messenger of Queen Isabella, just as he was departing in despair to carry his project of discovery to the court of France. Behold another place famous in the history of the discoverer : yon line of walls and towers, gleaming in the morning sun in the very centre of the Vega ; 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 that Columbus was called back by the heroic queen, and within them the treaty was concluded that led to the discovery of the Western World. Here, towards the south, the eye revels on the luxuriant beauties of the Vega ; a blooming wilder ness of grove and garden, and teeming o~?hard ; with the Xenil winding through it in silver links and feeding innumerable rills, conducted through ancient Moorish channels, which maintain the land scape in perpetual verdure. Here are the beloved bowers and gardens, and rural retreats for which the Moors fought with such desperate valour. The very farm-houses and hovels which are now inhabited by t ic boors, retain traces of arabesques and other 44 THE ALHAMBRA. tasteful decorations, which show them to have been elegant residences in the days of the Moslems. Beyond the embowered reg ; on of the Vega you behold, to the south, a line of arid hills down which a long train of mules is slowly moving. It was from the summit of one of those hills that 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." Now raise your eyes to the snowy summit of yon pile of mountains, shining like a white summer cloud on 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 foun tains and perennial streams. It is this glorious pile of mountains that gives to Granada that combina tion of delights so rare in a southern city. The fresh vegetation, and the temperate airs of a northern climate, with the vivifying ardour of a tropical sun, and the cloudless azure of a southern sky. It is this aerial treasury of snow, which, melt ing in proportion to the increase of the summer heat, sends down rivulets and streams through every glen and gorge of the Alpuxarras,: diffusing emerald ver dure and fertility throughout a chain of happy and sequestered valleys. These mountains may well be called the glory of Granada. They dominate the whole extent of An dalusia, 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 manner 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 Grana da, and chants in low voice some old romance about the Moors. But enough, the sun is high above the mountains, THE TOWER OF CO MARES. 45 and is pouring his full fervour upon our heads. Al ready the terraced roof of the town is ho* beneath our feet . let us abandon it, and descend and refresh ourselves under the arcades by the fountain of the Lions. REFLECTIONS ON THE MOSLEM DOMINA^ TION IN SPAIN. ONE of my favourite resorts is the balcony of the central window of the Hall of Ambassadors, in the lofty tower of Comarcs. 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 Alhambra, while the Vega, covered with a slight sultry vapour that caught the setting ray, seemed spread out in the distance like a golden sea. Not a breath of air disturbed the still ness of the hour, and though the faint sound of music and merriment now and then arose from the gardens of the Darro, it but rendered more impressive the monumental silence of the pile which overshadowed me. It was one of those hours and scenes in which memory asserts an almost magical power, and, like the evening sun beaming on these mouldering towers, sends back her retrospective rays to light up the glories of the past. As I sat watching the effect of the declining day light upon this Moorish pile, I was led into a con sideration of the light, elegant and voluptuous char acter prevalent throughout its internal architecture, and to contrast it with the grand but gloomy solem nity of the Gothic edifices, reared by the Spanish conquerors. The veiy architecture thus bespeaks the opposite and irreconcilable natures of the two MOSLEM D J/7..M1 77 OT /T SPA /-A"! 47 warlike people, who so long battled here for the mastery of the Peninsula. By degrees I fell into a course of musing upon the singular features of the Arabian or Morisco Spaniards, whose whole exist ence is as a tale that is told, and certainly forms one of the most anomalous yet splendid episodes in his tory. Potent and durable as was their dominion, we have no one distinct title by which to designate them. They were a nation, as it were, without a legitimate country or a name. A remote wave of the great Arabian inundation, cast upon the shores of Europe, they seemed to have all the impetus of the first rush of the torrent. Their course of conquest from the rock of Gibraltar to the cliffs of the Pyrenees, was as rapid and brilliant as the Moslem victories of Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not been checked on the Elains of Tours, all France, all Europe, might have een overrun with the same facility as the empires of the east, and the crescent might at this day have glittered on the fanes of Paris and of London. Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed hordes of Asia and Africa that formed this great irruption, gave up the Moslem principles of conquest, and sought to establish in Spain a peace ful 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 sup posed, by Allah, and strove to embellish it with every thing that could administer to the happiness of man. Laying the foundations of their power in a system of wise and equitable laws, diligently cul tivating the arts and sciences, and promoting agri culture, manufactures, and commerce, they gradually formed an empire unrivalled for its piosperity, b) any of the empires of Christendom ; and diligently drawing round them the graces and refinements that 48 THE ALHAMJ3KA. marked the Arabian empire in the east at the time of its greatest civilization, they diffused the light of oriental knowledge through the western regions of benighted Europe. The cities of Arabian Spain became the resort of Christian artisans, to instruct themselves in the use- Ail arts. The universities of Toledo, Cordova, Se- /ville, and Granada were sought by the pale student from other lands, to acquaint himself with the sci ences of the Arabs, and the treasured lore of an tiquity ; the lovers of the gay sciences 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 chiv alry. 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 ? Gener ation after generation, century after century had passed away, and still they maintained possession of the land. A period had elapsed longer than that which has passed since England was subjugated by the Norman conqueror; and the descendants of Musa and Tarik might as little anticipate being driven into exile, across the same straits traversed by their triumphant ancestors, as the descendants of Rollo and William and their victorious peers may dream of being driven back to the shores of Nor mandy. With all this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was but a brilliant exotic that took no perma nent root in the soil it embellished. Secured from all their neighbours of the west by impassable bar riers of faith and manners, and separated by seas and deserts from their kindred of the east, they were MOV L KM D OM1NA TICK IK SPAIN. 49 an isolated people. Their whole existence was a prolonged though gallant and chivalric struggle for a foot-hold in a usurped -land. They were the out posts and frontiers of Islamism. The peninsula was the great battle ground where the Gothic conquerors 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 valour of the Goth. Never was the annihilation of a people more com plete 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 th? barbarians of Africa, and ceased to be a nation. They 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 re fuses to acknowledge them but as invaders and usurpers. A few broken monuments are all that remain to bear witness to their power and dominion, i,s solitary rocks left far in the interior bear testi mony 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 memento of a brave, intelligent and graceful people, who conquered, ruled, and passed away. THE HOUSEHOLD. IT is time that I give some idea of my domestic arrangements in this singular residence. The royal palace of the Alhambra is intrusted to the care of a gcod old maiden dame called Doiia Antonia Molina, but who, according to Spanish custom, goes by the more neighbourly appellation of Tia Antonia (Aunt Antonia). She maintains the Moorish halls and gar dens in order, and shows them to strangers ; in con sideration of which, she is allowed all the perqui sites 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 gov ernor. Her residence is in a corner of the palace, and 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 has served in the armies both in Spain and the West Indies, but is now study ing medicine in hopes of one day or other becoming physician to the fortress, a post worth at least a hun dred and forty dollars a year. As to the niece, she is a plump little black-eyed Andalusian . damsel named Dolores, but who from her bright looks and cheerful disposition merits a merrier name. She is the declared heiress of all her aunt s possessions, consisting of certain ruinous tenements in the -for tress, yielding a revenue of about one hundred and fifty dollars. I had not been long in the Alhambra before I discovered that a quiet courtship was going on between the discreet Manuel and his bright-eyed THE HOUSEHOLD. 51 cousin, and that nothing was wanting to enable them to join their hands and expectations, but that he should receive his doctor s diploma, and purchase a dispensation from the pope, on account of their consanguinity. With the good dame Antonia I have made a treaty, according to which, she furnishes me with board and lodging, while the merry-hearted little Dolores keeps my apartment in order and officiates as handmaid at meal times. I have also at my com mand a tall, stuttering, yellow-haired lad named Pepe, who works in the garden, 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 historic-graphic 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 off his old brown mantle, as a snake does his skin, and now figures about the fortress with a smart An- dalusian hat and jacket, to his infinite satisfaction and the great astonishment of his comrades. The chief fault of honest Mateo is an over-anxiety to be useful. Conscious 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 end to de vise modes of making himself important to my wel fare. I am in a Banner 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 ebow to explain every thing I see, and if I venture to ramble among 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 52 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 humour, with the loquacity and gossip of a village barber, and knows all the sniall talk of the place and its environs; but what he cniefiy values himself on is his stock of local in formation, having the most marvellous stories to ie- late 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 legend ary tailor, who lived to the age of nearly a hundred years, during which he made but two migrations be yond 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 naif 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 little his torical 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 pos terity his traditionary lore died not with him. The authentic Mateo, when an urchin, used to be an at tentive listener to the narratives of his grandtather and of the gossip group assembled round the shop board, and is thus possessed of a stock of valuable knowledge concerning the Alhambra, not to be found in the books, and well worthy the attention of every curious traveller. Such are the personages that contribute to my domestic comforts in the Alhambra, 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 se- rener sway. THE HO UtEHOLD . 53 When I rise in die morning, Pepe, the stuttering lad, from the gardens, brings me a tribute of fresh culled flowers, which are afterwards arranged in vases by the skilful hand of Dolores, who takes no small pride in the decorations of my chamber. My meals are made wherever caprice dictates, some times 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 ro mantic 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 Moorish chamber, that serves for kitchen as well as hall, a rude fire-place having been made in one corner, the smoke from which has discoloured the walls and almost oblite rated the ancient arabesques. A window with a balcony overhanging the balcony 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 con dition 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 naivete and good sense, and often surprises me by the pungency of her artless sallies. Sometimes the nephew enter- 54 THE ALHAMBRA. tains us by reading some old comedy of Calderon 01 Lope de Vega, to which he is evidently prompted by * desire to improve, as well as amuse 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 bevy of humble friends and dependants, the inhabit ants of the adjacent hamlet, or the wives of the invalid soldiers. These look up to her with great deference as the custodian of the palace, and pay their court to her by bringing the news of the place, or the rumours that may have straggled up from Granada. In listening to the evening gossipings, I have picked up many curious facts, illustrative of the manners of the people and the peculiarities of the neighbourhood. 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 associations. From earliest boyhood, when, on the banks of the Hudson, I first pored over the pages of an old Spanish story about the wars of Granada, that city has ever been a sub ject of my waking dreams, and oiten have 1 trod in fancy the romantic halls of the Alhambra. Behold for once a day dream realized ; yet 1 can scarcely credit my senses or believe that I do indeed inhabit the palace of Boabdil, and look down from its bal conies upon chivalric Granada. As I loiter through the oriental chambers, and hear the murmuring of fountains and the song of the nightingale : as 1 in hale the odour of the rose and feel the influence of the balmy climate, I am almost tempted to fancy myself in the Paradise of .Mahomet, and that the plump little Dolores is one of the bright-eyed Houris, destined to administer to the happiness of true be lievers. THE TRUANT, SINCE writing the foregoing pages, we have had a scene of 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, from the superabundant kindness of her disposition. One of the ruined courts of the Alhambra is thronged with her favourites. 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 SOTIC time past been centred in a youthful pair of pigeons, who have lately entered into the holy state of wedlock, and who have even supplanted a tortoise shell cat and kitten in her affections. As a tenement for them to commence housekeep ing 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. In vain 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. Nothiug could be raore 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, 53 THE ALHAMBRA. and while their callow progeny required warmth and shelter. While one thus stayed at home, the other foraged abroad for food, and brought home abun dant supplies. This scene of conjugal felicity has suddenly met with a reverse. 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 of the Alhambra. For the first time in his life the astonished bird had to try the full vigour 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 conie 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 from tree to tree. Every attempt has been made in vain to lure him. back, by scattering grain upon the roofs ; he seenxs to have lost all thought of hrvne, of his tender help mate and his callow young. To add to the anxiety of Dolores, he has been joined by two palomas ia- drones, or robber pigeons, whose instinct it is tc entice wandering 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 shower has passed over the city, but he has not soug ht 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 TRUANT. 57 the nest without being relieved, at length went forth to seek her recreant mate ; but stayed away so long 1 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 Generaliffe. Now, it so happens that the Adininistrador 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 neighbouring pigeon fanciers. Do lores immediately concluded that the two feathered sharpers who had been seen with her fugitive, were these bloods of the Generaliffe. A council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of Tia Antonia. The Generaliffe is a distinct jurisdiction from the Alhambra, and of course some punctilio, if not jeal ousy, exists between their custodians. It was deter mined, 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 expedition, through the moonlight groves and avenues, but returned in an hour with the af flicting intelligence that no such bird, was to be found" in the dove-cote of the Generaliffe. The Ad ministrador, however, pledged his sovereign bird, that if such vagrant should appear there, even at midnight, he should instantly be arrested and sent back prisoner to his little black-eyed mistress. Thus stands this melancholy affair, which has oc casioned much distress throughout the palace, and has sent the inconsolable Dolores to a sleepless pil low. "Sorrow endureth for a night," says the proveib, "but jov ariscth in the morning." The first object that met my eyes on leaving my room .this morning 58 THE AL8AMBRA. was Dolores with the truant pigeon in her hand, and her eyes sparkling 1 with joy. He had appeared at an early hour on the battlements, hovering shyly about from roof to roof, but at length entered the window jmu surrendered himself prisoner. He gained little cred % however, by his returr for the ravenous man ner ii \vhich he devoured the food set before him, shmved that, like the prodigal son, he had been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores upbraided him for his faithless conduct, calling him all manner of vagrant names, though woman-like, she fondled him at the same time to her bosom and covered him with kisses. I observed, 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 wives or wan dering husbands. More than one valuable moral might be drawn from the story of Dolores and her pigeon. THE AUTHOR S CHAMBER. ON taking up my abode in the Alhambra, one end cf a suite of empty chambers of modern architect ure, intended for the residence of the governor, was fitted up for my reception. It was in front of the palace, looking forth upon the esplanade. The farther end communicated with a cluster of lit tle chambers, partly Moorish, partly modern, in habited by Tia Antonia and her family. These terminated in a large room which serves the good old dame for parlour, kitchen, and hall of audience. Jt had boasted of some splendour in time of the Moors, but a fire-place had been built in one corner, the smoke from which had discoloured the walls ; nearly obliterated the ornaments, and spread a som bre tint over the whole. From these gloomy apart ments, a narrow blind corridor and a. dark winding staircase led down an angle of the tower of Co- mares ; groping down which, and opening a small door at the bottom, you are suddenly dazzled by emerging into the brilliant antechamber of the hall of ambassadors, with the fountain of the court of the Alberca sparkling before you. I was dissatisfied with being lodged in a modern and frontier apartment of the palace, and longed to ensconce myself in the very heart of the building. As I was rambling one day about the Moorish halls, I found, in a remote gallery, a door which I had not before noticed, communicating apparently with 60 THE ALHAMLKA. an extensive apartment, locked up from the public. Here then was a mystery. Here was the haunted wing of the castle. I procured the key, however, without difficulty. The door opened to a range of vacant chambers of European architecture ; though built over a Moorish arcade, along the little garden of Lindaraxa. There were two lofty rooms, the ceilings of which were of deep panel-work of cedar, richly and skilfully carved with fruits and flowers, intermingled with grotesque masks or faces; but broken in many places. The walls had evidently, in ancient times, been hung with damask, but were now naked, and scrawled over with the insignificant names of aspiring travellers ; the windows, which were dismantled and open to wind and weather, looked into the garden of Lindaraxa, and the orange and citron trees flung their branches into the cham bers. Beyond these rooms were two saloons, less lofty, looking also into the garden. In the com partments of the panelled ceiling were baskets of fruit and garlands of flowers, painted by no mean hand, and in tolerable preservation. Tl .e walls had also been painted in fresco in the Italian style, but i the fainting? were .nearly obliterated. The win- \ dows were in the same shattered state as in the oisuy ^ chambers. This fanciful suite of rooms terminated in an oper gallery with balustrades, which ran at right anglea along another side of the garden. The whole apart ment had a delicacy and elegance in its decorations and there was something so choice and sequestered in its situation, along this retired little garden, that awakened an interest in its history. I found, on in quiry, 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 the beautiful Elizabetta of Parma were expected at the Alhambra ; and was destined for the queen and the ladies of her train. THE AUTHOR 8 CHAMBER. 61 One of the loftiest chambers had been her sleeping room, and a narrow staircase leading from it, though now walled up, opened to the delightful belvedere, originally a mirador of the Moorish sultanas, but fit ted up as a boudoir for the fair Elizabetta, and which still retains the name of the Tocador, or toilette of the queen. The sleeping room I have mentioned, commanded from one window a prospect of the Generaliffe, and its imbowered terraces ; under an other window played the alabaster fountain of the garden of Lindaraxa. That garden carried my thoughts still farther back, to the period of another reign of beauty ; to the days of the Moorish sultanas. " How beauteous is this garden ! " says an Arabic* inscription, " where the flowers of the earth vie with the stars of heaven ! what can compare with the vase of yon alabaster fountain filled with crystal water? Nothing but the moon in her fulness, shining in the midst of an unclouded sky ! " Centuries had elapsed, yet how much of this scene of apparently fragile beauty remained ! The garden of Lindaraxa was still adorned with flowers ; the fountain still presented its crystal mirror : it is true, the alabaster had lost its whiteness, and the basin beneath, overrun with weeds, had become the nes tling place of the lizard ; but there was something in the very decay that enhanced the interest of the scene, speaking, as it did, of that mutability which is the irrevocable lot of man and all his works. The desolation, too, of these chambers, once the abode of the prouB and elegant Eiizabetta, had a more touching charm for me than if i had beheld them in their pristine splendour, glittering with the pageant ry of a court. I determined at once to take up my quarters in this apartment. My determination excited great surprise in the family; who could not imagine any rational induce ment for the choice of so solitary, remote and for- 63 THE ALHAMBRA. lorn an apartment. The good Tia Antonia consid ered it highly dangerous. The neighbourhood, she said, was infested by vagrants ; the caverns of the adjacent hills swarmed with gipsies ; the palace was ruinous and easy to be entered in many parts ; and the rumour of a stranger quartered alone in one of the ruined apartments, out of the hearing of the rest of the inhabitants, might tempt unwelcome visitors in the night, especially as foreigners are always sup posed to be well stocked with money. Dolores rep resented the frightful loneliness of the place ; nothing but bats and owls flitting about ; then there were a fox and a wild cat that kept about the vaults and roamed about at night. I was not to be diverted from my humour, so call ing in the assistance of a carpenter, and the ever ofticious Mateo Ximenes, the doors and windows were soon placed in a state of tolerable security. With all these precautions, I must confess the first night I passed in these quarters was inexpressibly dreary. I was escorted by the whole family to my chamber, and there taking leave of me, and retiring along the waste antechamber and echoing galleries, reminded me of those hobgoblin stories, where the hero is left to accomplish the adventure of a haunted house. } Soon the thoughts of the fair Elizabetta and the beauties of her court, who had once graced these chambers, now by a perversion of fancy added to the gloom. Here was the scene of their transient gaiety and loveliness ; here were the very traces of their elegance and enjoyment ; but what and where were they ? Dust and ashes ! tenants of the tomb ! phan toms 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, out I felt that it was something more unusual and THE AUTHOR S CHAMBER. 63 absurd. In a word, the long buried impressions of the nursery were reviving and asserting their power over my imagination. Every thing began to be af fected by the workings of my mind. The whisper ing 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 had indistinct and ghastly shapes. I was glad to close the window ; but my chamber itself became infected. A bat had found its way in, and flitted about my head and athwart my solitary lamp ; the grotesque faces carved in the cedar ceiling seemed to mope and mow at me. Rousing myself, and half smiling at this tempora ry weakness, I resolved to brave it, and, taking lamp in hand, sallied forth to make a tour of the ancient palace. Notwithstanding every mental exertion, the task was a severe one. The rays of my lamp ex tended to but a limited distance around me ; I walked as it were in a mere halo of light, and all beyond was thick darkness. The vaulted corridors were as caverns; the vaults of the halls were lost in gloom ; what un seen foe might not be lurking before or behind me ; my own shadow playing about the walls, and the echoes of my own footsteps disturbed me. In this excited state, as I was traversing the great Hall of Ambassadors, there were added real sounds to these conjectural fancies. Low moans and indistinct ejaculations seemed to rise as it were from beneath my feet ; I paused and listened. They then appear ed to resound from without the tower. Sometimes they resembled the howlings of an animal, at others they were stifled shrieks, mingled with articulate ravings. The thrilling effect of these sounds in that still hour and singular place, destroyed all inclination to continue my lonely perambulation. I returned to my chamber with more alacrity than I had saliied forth, and drew my breath more freely when once 6i THE ALHAMBRA. more within its walls, and the door bolted behind me. When I awoke in the morning, with the sun shin ing in at my window, and lighting up every part of the building with its cheerful and truth-telling beams, I could scarcely recall the shadows and fancies con jured up by the gloom of the preceding night ; or believe that the scenes around me, so naked and ap parent, could have bt:cn clothed with such imaginary horrors. Still the dismal howiings and ejaculations I had heard, were not ideal ; but they were soon accounted for, by my handmaid Dolores ; being the ravings of a poor maniac, a brother of her aunt, who was sub ject to violent paroxysms, during which he was con fined in a vaulted room beneath the Hall of Ambas sadors. THE ALHAMBRA BY MOONLIGHT. I HAVE given a picture of my apartment en nrjf first taking possession of it; a few evening s have produced a thorough change in the scene and in my feelings. The moon, which then was invisible, has gradually gained upon the nights, and now rolls in full splendour above the towers, pouring a flood of tempered light into every court and hall. The gar den beneath my window is gently lighted up ; the orange and citron trees are tipped with silver ; the fountain sparkles in the moon beams, and even the blush of the rose is faintly visible. I have sat for hours at my window inhaling the sweetness of the garden, and musing on the che quered features of those whose history is ^vrly shadowed out in the elegant memorials aiound. Sometimes I have issued forth at midnight when every thing was quiet, and have wandered over the whole building. Who can do justice to a moonlight night in such a climate, and in such a place ! The temperature of an Andalusian midnight, in summer is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a purer atmosphere ; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirits, an elasticity of frame that render mere ex istence enjoyment. The effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra has something like enchantment. Every rent and chasm of time, every mouldering tint and weather stain disappears; the marble re sumes its original whiteness ; the long colonnades 66 THE ALHAMBRA. brighten in the moon beams ; the halls are illumi nated with a softened radiance, until the whole edi fice reminds one of the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale. At such time I have ascended to the little pavilion, called the Oueen s Toilette, to enjoy its varied and extensive prospect. To the right, the snowy sum mits of the Sierra Nevada would gleam like silver clouds against the darker firmament, and all the outlines of the mountain would be softened, yet deli cately defined. My delight, however, would be to lean over the parapet of the tocador, and gaze down upon Granada, spread out like a map below me : rill buried in deep repose, and its white palaces and convents sleeping as it were in the moonshine. Sometimes I would hear the faint sounds of cas tanets from some party of dancers 1, ngering in the Alameda ; at other times I have heai l the dubious tones of a guitar, and the notes of a single voice rising from some solitary street, and have pictured to myself some youthful cavalier serenading his lady s window ; a gallant custom of former days, but now sadly on the decline except in the remote towns and villages of Spain. Such are the scenes that have detained me for many an hour loitering about the courts and bal conies of the castle, enjoying that mixture of reverie and sensation which steal away existence in a south ern climate and it has been almost morning before I have retired to my bed, and been lulled to sleep by the falling waters of the fountain of Lindaraxa. INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBRA. I HAVE often observed that the more proudly a mansion has been tenanted in the day of its pros perity, the humbler are its inhabitants in the day of its decline, and that the palace of the king comrr.or,. \l ends in being the nestling place of th c . beggar. The Alhimbra 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 standards of poverty, out of its windows and loop-holes. 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 the drama of human pride. One of these even bears the mockery of a royal title. It is a little old woman named Maria Antonia SaBonea, but who goes by the appellation of la Reyna Cuquina, or the cockle queen. She is small enough to be a fairy, and a fairy she may be for aught I can find out, for no one seems to know her origin. Her habitation is 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-tell- 63 THE ALHAMBZA. ing ; having, I verily believe, as many stones 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 Doila Antonia, at which she is occasionally an humble at tendant. 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 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 parochlil church, and marker of a five s 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 Gonsalvo of Cordova, the Grand captain. Nay, he actually bears the name of Alonzo de Aguilar, so renowned in the his tory 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 I had thought too sacred in the eyes of true catholics to be thus ludicrously applied. It is a whimsical caprice of fortune, to present in the grotesque person of this... tatterdemalion a namesake and descendant of the proud Alonzo de Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chivalry, leading an almost mendicant existence about this once haughty fjr- tress, which his ancestor aided to reduce ; yet cuch mi^ht have been the lot of the descendants of Acra- TB OF THE ALHAMBRA. C9 rv..:mnon and Achilles, had they lingered about the ruins of Troy. Of J-his motley community I find the family of my gossiping squiie Mateo Ximenes to form, from their numbers at least, a very important part. His boast 01 being a son of the Alhambra is not unfounded. Ttiis family has inhabited the fortress ever since the time of the conquest, handing down a hereditary poverty from father to son, not one of them having ever been known to be worth a marevedi. His father, by ti ade a riband weaver, and who succeeded the histor ical 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 ot a crazy bed, a table, and two or three chairs ; a wooden chest, containing his clothes, and the archives of his family ; that is to say, a few papers concerning old law-suits which he cannot read ; but the pride of his heart is a blazon of the arms of the family, brilliantly coloured and suspended in a frame against the wall, clearly demonstrating by its quartering^ the various noble houses with which this poverty-stricken brood claim affinity. As to Mateo himself, he has done his utmost to perpetuate his line; having a wife, and a numerous progeny 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 always a riddle to me ; yet they do subsist, and, what is more, appear to enjoy their existence. The wife takes her holycUy stroll in the Paseo of Granada, with a child in her arms, and half a dozen at her heels, and the eldest daughter, now verging into womanhood, dresses her hair with flowers, and dances gaily to the cas tanets. 70 THE ALHAMBRA. There are two classes of people to whom life seems one long holyday, the very rich and the very poor ; one because they need do nothing, the other because they have nothing to do ; buuthere are none who understand the art of doing nothing and living upon nothing better than the poor classes of Spain. Climate does one half and temperament the rest. Give a Spaniard the shade in summer, and the sun in winter, a little bread, garlic, oil and garbanzos, 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 grandioso style, like his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo even when in rags. The " Sons of the Alhambra " are an eminent illustration of this practical pnilosophy. As the Moors imagined that the celestial paradise hung over this favoured spot, so I am inclined, at times, to fancy that a gleam of the golden age still lingers about this ragged community. They possess noth ing, they do nothing, they care for nothing. Yet, though apparently idle all the week, they are as observant of all holydays and saints days as the most laborious artisan. They attend all fetes ana dancings in Granada and its vicinity, light bon-fire= on the hills of St. John s eve, and have lately danced away the moonlight nights, on the harvest home of a small field of wheat within the ^recincts of the for tress. Before concluding these remarks I must mention one of the amusements of the place which has par ticularly struck me. I had repeatedly observed a long; lean fellow perched on the top of one of the tov-<*rs manoeuvring two or three fishing rods, as though he was angling for the stars. I was for some timn per plexed by the evolutions of this aerial fisherman, aad rny perplexity increased on observing others em- INHABITANTS OF THE ALIIAMBEA. 71 ployed in like manner, on different parts of the bat tlements 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 myriads, with t 3 holyday glee of urchins just let loose from school Tor entrap these birds in their giddy cirr.lings, with hooks baited with flies, is one of the favourice amuse ments of the ragg-id " Sons of the Alhambra," who, with the good-for-nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have thus invented the art oi* angling in the sky. THE BALCONY. IN the Hall of Ambassadors, at the central win- 1 dow, there is a balcony of which I have already made mention. It projects like a. cage from the face of the tower, *Tiigh in mid-air, above the tops of the trees that grow on the steep hill-side. Ij; answers me as a kind of observatory, where I often take my seat to consider, not merely the heavens above, but the "earth beneath." Beside the magnificent pros pect which it commands, of mountain, valley, and Vega, there is a busy little scene of human lite laid open to inspection immediately below. At the foot of the jjiU is an alameda or public walk, which, though fiol so fashionable as the more modern and splendid paseo of the Xenil, still boasts a varied and picturesque concourse, especially on holydays and Sundays. Hither resort the small gentry of the suburbs, together with priests and friars who walk for appetite and digestion ; majos and majas, the beaux and belles of the lower classes in their Anda- lusian dresses ; swaggering contraband istas, and sometimes half-muffled and mysterious loungers of the higher ranks, on some silent assignation. It is a moving picture of Spanish life which I de- lign~t to study ; and as the naturalist has his micro scope to assist him in his curious investigations, so I have a small pocket telescope which brings the countenances of the motley groupes so close as al most at limes to make me think I can divine their THE BALCONY. T3 conversation by the play and expression of their features. I am thus, in a manner, an invisible ob server, and without quitting my solitude, can throw myself in an instant into the midst of society a rare advantage to one of somewhat shy and quiet habits. Then there is 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 are built in the Moorish style, round patios or courts cooled by fountains and open to the sky ; and as the inhabitants pass 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 may be obtained by an aerial spectator like myself, who can look down on them from the clouds. I enjoy, in some degree, the advantages of the student in the famous old Spanish story, who beheld nil Madrid unroofed for his inspection ; and my gos- sipping squire Mateo Ximenes, officiates occasionally as my Asmodeus, to give me anecdotes of the differ- <-v mansions and their inhabitants. i prefer, howe.v^r, to form conjectural histories for myself; and thus can sit up aloft for hours, weaving from casual incidents and indications that pass under my eye, the whole tissue of schemes, intrigues and occupations, carrying on by certain of the busy mortals below us. There is scarce a pretty face or striking figure that I daily see, about which I have not thus gradually framed a dramatic story ; though some of my characters will occasionally act in direct opposition to the part assigned them, and disconcert my whole drama. A few clays since as I was reconnoitring with my g .iss the streets of the Albaycin, I beheld the pro cession of a novice about to take the veil ; and re marked various circumstances that excited the strongest sympathy in the fate of the youthful being 7t THE ALIIAjfBRA. f!:us about to be consigned to a living tomb. I as certained, to my satisfaction, that 4)^ was beautiful ; and by the paleness oi her cheek, that she was a victim, rather than a votary, fefce was arrayed in bridal garments, and drdced with a chaplet of white flowers ; but her heart evidently revolted at thii mockery of a spiritual union, and yearned after its earthly loves. A tall stem-looking man walked near her in the procession ; it was evidently the tyrannical felher, who, from some bigoted or sordid motive, had compelled this sacrifice. Amidst the crowd was a dark, handsome youth, in Andalusian garb, who seemed to fix on her an eye of agony. It was doubt less the secret lover from whom she was for ever to be separated. My indignaticn rose as I noted the malignant exultation painted in 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 fronT sight. The thjpng poured in with cowl and cross and minstrelsy. ""The Ipver paused for a moment at the door; I could understand the tumult of his feelings, but he mastered them and entered. There was a long interval I pictured to myself the scene passing within. The poor novice despoiled of her transient finery clothed in the con ventual garb; the bridal chaplet taken from her brow ; her beautiful head shorn of its long silken tresses 1 heard her murmur the irrevocable vow I saw her extended on her bier ; the death pall spread over ; the funeral service performed that proclaimed her dead to the world ; her sighs were drowned in the wailing anthem of the nuns and the sepulchral tones of the organ the father looked, unmoved, without a tear the lover no my fancy refused to portray the anguish of the lover there the picture remained a blank. The ceremony was over : the THE BALCONY. 75 crowd again issued forth to behold the day and mingle in the joyous stir of life but the victim with her bridal chaplet was no longer there the door of the convent closed tnat secured her from the world for ever. I saw the father and the lover issue forth they were in earnest conversation the young man was violent in his gestures, when the wall of a house intervened and shut them from my sight. That evening I noticed a solitary light twinkling from a remote lattice of the convent. Thfine, said L, the unhappy novice sits weeping in her cell, while hef lover paces the street below in unavailing anguish. The officious Mateo interrupted my meditations and destroyed, in an instant, the cobweb tissue of my fancy. With his^usual zeal he had gathered facts concerning the scene that had interested me. The heioine of my romance was neither young nor hand some she had no love she had entered the con vent of her own free will, as a respectable asylum, and was one of the cheerfulest residents within its walls ! I felt at first half vexed with the nun for being thus happy in her cell, in contradiction to all the rules of romance ; but diverted my spleen by watching, for a day or two, the pretty coquetries of a dark-eyed brunette, who, from the covert of a balcony shrou Jed with flowering shrubs and a silken awning, was carrying on a mysterious correspondence with a handsome, dark, well-whiskered cavalier 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 the corner, in various disguises, apparently waiting for a private signal to slip into the bower. Then there was a tinkling of a guitar at night, and a lantern shifted from place to place in the balcony. I imagined another romantic intrigue like that of Almaviva, but was again disconcerted in all my suppositions by 78 THE ALHAMBRA. being informed that the supposed lover was the husband of the lady, and a noted contrabandista . and that all his mysterious signs and movements had doubtless some smuggling scheme in view. Scarce had the gray dawn streaked the sky and the earliest cock crowed from the cottages of the hill-side, when the suburbs gave sign of reviving ani mation ; for the fresh hours of dawning are precious in the summer season in a sultry climate. All are anxious to get the start or the sun in the business of the day. The muleteer drives forth his loaded train for the journey the traveller slings his carbine be hind his saddle and mounts his steed at the gate of the hostel. The brown peasant urges his loitering donkeys, 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, topping 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 put up a prayer for a pros perous wayfaring across the Sierra. And Jiow steals forth with fairy foot the gentle Senora.lrTtrim busquina ; with restless. fan in hand and dark eye flashing from beneath her gracefully folded mantilla. She seeks some well frequented church to offer up her orisons , but the nicely ad justed dress ; the dainty shoe and cobweb stock ing ; the raven tresses scrupulously braided, the fresh plucked rose that gleams among them like a gem, show that earth divides with heaven the em pire of her thoughts. As the morning advances, the din of labour aug ments on every side ; the streets are thronged with THE BALCONY, 77 nan and steed, and beast of burden ; the universal movement produces 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 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 por ter lies stretched on the pavement beside his bur den. The peasant and the labourer sleep beneath the trees of the Ahmeda, lulled by the sultry chirp ing of the locust. The streets are deserted except by the water carrier, who refreshes the ear by pro claiming the merits of his sparkling beverage, " Colder than mountain snow." As the sun declines there is again a gradual re viving, and when the vesper bell rings out his sink ing knell, all nature seems to rejoice that the tyrant of the day has fallen. Now begins the bustle of enjoyment. The citi- zenlPpour forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the brief twilight in the walks and gar dens of the Darro and the Xenil. As the night closes, the motley 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 per vading gloom, and sparkles with scattered lights like the starry firmament. Now break forth from court, and garden, and street, and lane, the tink ling of innumerable guitars and the clicking of cas tanets, blending at this lofty height, in a faint and 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 in 78 THE AL1IAMBRA. the balmy nights of summer, wooing his "mistress vith the dance, the love ditty and the passionate Serenade. I was seated one evening in the balcony enjoy ing the light breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill among the tree-tops, when my hum ble 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 recollect, the following anecdote : THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON. There was once upon a time a poor mason, or bricklayer in Granada, who kept all the saints days and holydays, and saint Monday into the bargain, and yet, with all his devotion, he grew poorer and poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for his numer ous 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 observed that you are a good Christian, and one to be trusted ; will you undertake a job this very night ? " " With all my heart, Seiior 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 hoodwinked, he was led by the priest through vari ous 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 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 corn*, dimly lighted by a single lamp. 80 THE ALHAMBRA. In the centre was a dry basin of an old Moorish 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 day-break the priest put a piece of gold into his hand, and hav ing again blindfolded him, conducted him back to his dwelling. * Are you willing," said he, " to return and com plete your work ? " "Gladly, Senor Padre, provided I am as well paid." " 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 iollowed 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 labour that he and the priest carried them forth and consigned them to their tomb. The vault was then closed, the pave ment replaced and all traces of the work obliterated. 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. """""Vv ait here," said he, " until you hear the cathedral bell toll for matins. If you presume to uncover your eyes before that time, evil will befall you." So say ing he departed. The mason waited faithfully, amusing himself by weighing the gold pieces in his hand and clinking ADVENTURE OF THE MASON, 81 .hem against each other. The moment the cathe dral bell rung its matin peal, he uncovered his eyes and found himself on the banks of the Xenil ; from whence he made the best of his way home, and rev elled with his family for a whole fortnight on the profits of his two nights work, after which he was as poor as ever.^x^ He continued to work a little and pray a good deal, and keep holydays and saints days from year to year, while his family grew up as gaunt and ragged as a crew of gipsies. As he was seated one morning at the door of his hovel, he was accosted by a rich old curmudgeon who was noted for owning many houses and being a gjiping landlord. The man of money eyed him for a moment, from beneath a pair of shagged eyebrows. " J am told, friend, that you are very poor." " There is no denying the fact, Seiior ; it speaks for itself." " I presume, then, you will be glad of a job, and will work cheap." " As cheap, my master, as any mason in Granada." " That s what I want. I have an old house fallen to decay, that 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 huge deserted house that seemed going to ruin. Passing through several empty halls and chambers, he en tered an inner court, where his eye was caught by an old Moorish fountain. He paused for a moment. " It seems," said he, " as if I had been in this place before ; but it is like a dream. Pray who occupied this house formerly ? " " A pest upon him ! " cried the landlord. " It was an old miserly priest, who cared for nobody but him- 82 THE ALHAMBRA. self. lie was said to be immensely rich, "and, hav ing no relations, it was thought he would leave all his treasure to the church. He died suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to take possession 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 con tinues to occupy my house without paving 1 rent, and there s no taking the law of a ciead man. The people pretend to hear at night the clinking of gold all night long in the chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were counting 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 presents, and I will engage to put it in repair and quiet the troubled spirits that disturb it. I am a good Christian and a poor man, and am not to be daunted by the devil himself, even though he come in the shape of a big bag of money." The offer of the honest mason was gladly ac cepted ; he moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all his engagements. By little and little he restored it to its former state. The clinking of gold was no longer 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 neighbours, and became one of the richest men in Granada. He gave large sums to the ciiurch, by way, no doubt, of satisfying his conscience, and never revealed the secret of the wealth until on his death- oed, to his son and heir. A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. I FREQUENTLY amuse myself towards the close of the day, when the heat has subsided, with taking long rambles about the neighbouring 1 hills and the deep umbrageous valleys, accompanied by my his toriographer Squire Mateo, to whose passion for fossiping, I, on such occasions, give the most un- ounded license ; and there is scarce a rock or ruin, or broken fountain, or lonely glen, about which he has not some marvellous story ; or, above all, some golden legend ; for never was poor devil so munifi cent in dispensing hidden treasures. A few evenings since we took a long stroll of the kind, in which Mateo was more than usually com municative. It was towards sunset that we sallied forth from the great Gate of Justice, and ascending an alley of trees, Mateo paused under a clump of fig and pomegranate trees at the foot of a huge ruined tower, called the Tower of the Seven Vaults, (de los siete suelos.) Here, pointing to a low archway at the foundation of the tower, he informed me, in an under tone, was the lurking-place of a monstrous sprite or hobgoblin called the Belludo, which had infested the tower ever since the time of the Moors ; guarding, it is supposed, the treasures of a Moorish king. Sometimes 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 terrific yells and bowlings. 84 THE ALHAMBRA. "But have you ever met with it yourself, Mateo, in any of your rambles ? " "No, sefior; but my grandfather, the tailor, knew several persons who had seen it; for it went shout much more in his time than at present: sometimes* in one shape, sometimes in another. Every body in Granada has heard of the Belludo, for the old women and 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." Mateo went on to tell many particulars about this redoutable hobgoblin, which has, in fact, been time out of mind a favourite theme of nursery tale and popular tradition in Granada, and is mentioned in some of the antiquated guide-books. When he had finished, we passed on, skirting the fruitful orchards of the Generaliffe ; among the trees of which two or three nightingales were pouring forth a rich strain of melody. Behind these orchards we passed a number of Moorish tanks, wilh a door cut into the rocky bosom of the hill, but closed up. These tanks Mateo informed me were favourite bathing-places of himself and his comrades in boyhood, until fright ened 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 pur sued our ramble up a solitary mule-path that wound among the hills, and soon found ourselves amidst wild and melancholy mountains, destitute of trees, and here and there tinted with scanty verdure. Every thing within sight was severe and sterile, and it was scarcely possible to realize the idea that rut a short distance behind us was the Generalise, with its blooming orchards and terraced gardens, and that we were in the vicinity of delicious G A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 85 that city of groves at-.d fountains. But such is the nature of Spain wild and stern the moment it es capes from cultivation, the desert and the garden arc ever side by side. The narrow delile up which we were passing is railed, according to Mateo, el Barranco de la Ti- ia;a, or the ravine of the jar. And why so, Mateo ? " inquired I. " Because, seiior, a jar full of Moorish gold was fc ind here in old times." The brain of poor Mateo s continually running upon these golden legends. " Bu" \\.\a\. is the meaning of the cross 1 see yon der 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 murder ers even at the gates of the Alhambra." " Not at present, senor that was formerly, when there used to be many loose fellows about the for tress ; but they ve all been \vceded out. Not but that the gipsies, who live in caves in the hill-sides j jst out of the fortress, are, many of them, fit for any thing ; 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 c^l Moro, or chair of the Moor ; from a tradition that the un fortunate Boabdil tied thither during a popular in surrection, and remained all day seated on the rocky summit, looking mournfully down upon 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 set ting sun just gilded the loftiest heights. Here and there a solitary sh-^herd irr ght be descried driving 86 THE ALHAHBRA. his flock down the declivities to be folded for the night, or a muleteer and his lagging animals thread ing some mountain path, to arrive at the city gates before nightfall. Presently the deep tones of the cathedral bell came swelling up the defiles, proclaiming the hour of Oracion, 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 even ing prayer. There is always something solemn and pleasing in this custom ; by which, at a melodious signal, every human being throughout the land, re cites, at the same .moment, a tribute of thanks to God for the mercies of the clay. It diffuses a tran sient sanctity over the land, and the sight of the sun sinking in all his glory, adds not a little to the so lemnity 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 foun dations of extensive buildings, spoke of former popu- lousness, but where all was now silent and desolate. As we were wandering among these traces of old times, Mateo pointed out to me a circular pit, that seemed to penetrate deep into the bosom of the mountain. It was evidently a deep well, dug by the indefatigable Moors, to obtain their favourite ele ment in its greatest purity. Mateo, however, had a different story, and much more to his humour. This was, according to tradition, an entrance to the sub terranean caverns of the mountain, in which Boab- dil and his court lay bound in mag ; c spell ; and from whence they sallied forth at night, at allotted times, to revisit their ancient abodes. A 7M3/7?/:/: A.VOXG THE HILLS. 87 The deepening- twilight, which in this climate is of such short cluiation, admonished us to leave this minted gronnd, As WP descended the. mountain defiles, there was no longer herdsman or muleteer to be seen, nor any thing to be heard but our own foot steps and the lonely chirping- of the cricket. The shadows of the valleys grew deeper and deeper, until all was dark around us. The iofty summit of the Sierra Nevada alone retained a lingering- gleam cf day-light, its snowy peaks glaring" against the cLuk 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 lucero hermoso ! que claro y limpio es ! no pueda ser lucero mas brillante ! "- (What a beautiful star ! how clear and lucid ! no star could be more brilliant !) I have often remarked this sensibility of the com mon people 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 euphonous 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, Seaor, are fires made by the men who gather snow and ice for the supply of Granada, 83 TEE ALHAMBjRA. They go up every afternoon with mules and asses, and take turns, some to rest and warm themselves by the fires, while others fill their panniers with ice. They then set off down the mountain, so as to reach the gates of Granada before sunrise. That Sierra Nevada, Senor, is a lump of ice in the middle of An dalusia, 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 apparently advanc ing up the ravine. On nearer approach they proved tc/be torches borne by a train of uncouth figures arrayed 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 ruggfed features anJ funereal weeds of the attendants, had the most fan tastic eifect, but was perfectly ghastly as it revealed the countenance of the corpse, which, according to Spanish custom, was borne uncovered on an open bier. I remained for some time gazing after the dreary 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 ynu. a story of a procession once seen among these mount lins but then you would laugh at me, and say it was one of the legacies of my grandfather the tailor." "By no means, Mateo. There is nothing I relish more than a marvellous tale." " Well, Senor, it is about one r-f those very men we have been talking of, who gather snow on the A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 89 Sierra Nevada. You must know that a great many years since, in my grandfather s time, there was an old feliow, Tio Nicolo by name, who had filled the panniers of his mules with snow and ice, and was returning down the mountain. Being very drowsy, ne mounted upon the mule, and soon" falling 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 Nicolo 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 ! Sefior ! it was nothing like the city he 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 pinnacles all sur mounted 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 (lags. Well, Sefior, as you may sup pose, Tio Nicolo was mightily puzzled at all this, but while he was gazing down upon the city, a great army came marching up the mountain; winding along the ravines, sometimes in the moonshine, sometimes in the shade. As it drew nigh, he saw that there were horse and foot, all in Moorish armour. 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, Sefior, are just as much frightened at such things as human beings. Well, Sefior, the hobgoblin army came marching by , there were men that seemed to blow trumpets, nnd others to beat drums and strike cymbals, }et never a sound did they make ; THE ALIIAMBEA they ail moved on without the least iioiac, just a. s * have seen painted armies move across the stage in : theatre of Granada, and ail looked as pale as a_ath. At last in the rear of the army, between two black Moorish horsemen, rode the grand inquisitor of Granada, on a mule as white as snow. Tio Nicolo wondered to see him in such company ; for the in quisitor was famous for his hatred of Moors, and in deed of ail kinds of infidels, Jew" and heretics, and used to hunt them out with tire and scourge how ever, 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, and 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 dreamt it all, as he dozed on his mule, others thought it ail a fabrication of his own. But what was strange, Senor, and made people afterwards think more seriously of the matter, was, that the grand inquisitor died within the year. I have often heard my grandfather, the tailor, say that there was more meant by that hobgoblin army bear ing 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." A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. 91 " God forbid Senor ! I know nothing of the mat terI only relate what I heard from my grandfather." By the time Mateo had finished trie tale which I have more succinctly related, and which was inter larded with many comments, and spun out with minute details, we reached the gate of the Al- hambra. THE COUR1 OF LIONS. THE peculiar charm of this old dreamy palace, is its power of calling up vague reveries and picturin.gs 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 favourable to this phantasmagoria of the mind , and none are more so than the Court of Li ons and its surrounding halls. Here the hand of time has fallen the lightest, and the traces of Moorish elegance and splendour exist in almost their orig inal brilliancy. Earthquakes have shaken the foundations 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 col onnade has given way, and ail the fairy fretwork of these domes, apparently as unsubstantial as the crys tal fabrics of a morning s frost, yet exist after the lapse of centuries, almost as fresh as if from the hand of the Moslem artist. I write in the midst of these mementos of the past, in the fresh hour of early morning, in the fated hall of the Abencerrages. The blood-stained foun tain, 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 appear THE COURT OP LIONS. C.j calculated to inspire kind and liappy feelings, for every thing 1 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 then surging upwards, darts away twittering over the roof; the busy bee toils humming 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 exer tion of the fancy to picture some pensive beauty of the harem, loitering in these secluded haunts of ori ental 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 se renely melancholy, or more in harmony with the tale of departed grandeur. At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Jus tice, whose deep shadowy arcades extend acrosf the upper end of the court. Here were performed, ; n presence of Ferdinand and Isabella, and their tn- umphant court, the pompous ceremonies 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 gran* cardinal of Spain, and others of the highest religious dignitaries of the land. I picture *o myself the scene when this place wai filled with the conquering host, that mixtuie of mi tred prelate, and shorn monk, and steel-clad knight, and silken courtier : when crosses and croziers and tdkjicus standards were mingled with proud armo- 94 THE ALHAMBRA. rial ensigns and the banners of the haughty chiefs of Spain, and flaunted in triumph through these Mos lem 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 themselves before the altar and pouring forth thanks for their victory, 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 vaults, and the owl hoots from the neighbouring tower of Comares. The Court of the Lions has also its share of supernatural legends. I have already mentioned the belief in the murmuring of voices and clanking of chains, made at night by the spirits of the mur dered Abencerrages. Mateo Ximenes, a few even ings since, at one of the gatherings in Dame An- tonia s apartment, related a fact which happened within the knowledge of his grandfather, the legend ary tailor. There was 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 cf Lions, he heard footsteps in the Hall of the Abencerrages. Supposing some loungers to be lingering there, he advanced to at tend upon them, when, to his astonishment, he be held four Moors richly dressed, with gilded cuirasses and scimitars, and poniards glittering 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 aft erwards be prevailed upon to enter the Alhambra. Thus it is that men sometimes turn their backs upon THE COURT OF LIONS. 95 fortune ; for it is the firm opinion of Mateo that the Moors intended to reveal the place where their treas ures 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 horses, set up a carriage, and still lives there, one of the righest as well as oldest men of the place : all which, Mateo sagely surmises, was in consequence of his finding out the golden secret of these phantom Moors. On entering the Court of the Lions, a few even ings since, I was startled at beholding a turbanecl Moor quietly seated near the fountain. It seemed, for a moment, as if one of the stories of Mateo Xi- menes were realized, and some ancient inhabitant of the Alhambra had broken the spell of centuries, and become visible. It 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 con versation with him, and found him shrewd and in telligent. He told me that he came up the hill occasionally in the summer, to pass a part of the day in the Alhambra, which reminded him cf the old palaces in Barbary, which were built and adorned in similar style, though with less 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 uow-a-days. They thought only of love, of music, TICJ of poetry. They made stanzas upon every oc casion, 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 favour and prefer ment. In those days, if any one asked for bread 06 THE ALHAMBRA. the reply was, Make me a couplet ; * and tne poor est beggar, if he begged in rhyme, would often be rewarded with a piece of gold." "And is the popular feeling for poetry," said t, " entirely lost among you ? " "By no means, Sefior; the people of Barbery, even those of the lower classes, still make couplets, and good ones too, as in the old time, 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 that foretold perpetuity to the power and glory of the Moslem monarchs, the masters of the 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 capitol to the Christians. The Spanish monarchs would never have been able to conquer it by open force." I endeavoured 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. " 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 ths 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 Barbary, had an interview with the pasha of Tetuan. The Moorish governor was THE COURT OF LIONS. 9? particular in his inquiries about the soil, the climate and resources of Spain, and especially concerning the favoured regions 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 splendour of their ancient empire in Spain. Turning to his Moslem attendants, the pasha 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 reconquer their rightful domains; and that the day was, perhaps, not far distant, when Mohammedan wor ship 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, and especially Andalusia, 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, scatter ed among the cities of Barbary. Several of these reside in Tetuan, preserving their ancient names, such as Paez, and Medina, and refraining from inter marriage 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 dis tinction except in the royal line. These families, it is said, continue to sigh after the terrestrial paradise of their ancestors, and to put jp 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 98 THE ALHAMBRA. forward as fondly and confidently as did the Chris tian crusaders to the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. Nay, it is added, that some of them retain the an cient 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 hered itary claims, to be produced at the anticipated day of restoration. BOABDIL EL CHICO. MY conversation with the Moor in the Court of Lions set me to musing on the singular fate of Bo- .ibdil. Never was surname more applicable than that bestowed upon him by his subjects, of " El Zogoybi," or, " the unlucky." His misfortunes began almost in his cradle. In his tender youth he was Imprisoned and menaced with death by an inhuman father, and only escaped through a mother s strata gem ; in after years his life was imbittered and re peatedly endangered by the hostilities of a usurping uncle ; his reign was distracted by external invasions and internal feuds ; Le was alternately the foe, the prisoner, the friend, and always the dupe of Ferdi nand, until conquered and dethroned by the min gled craft and force of that perfidious monarch. An exile from his native land, he took refuge with one of the princes of Africa, and fell obscurely in battle fighting in the cause of a stranger. His misfortunes ceased not with his death. If Boabdil cherished a desire to leave an honourable name on the historic pige, how cruelly has he been defrauded of his hopes . Who is there that has turned the least at tention to the romantic history of the Moorish dom ination in Spain, without kindling with indignation at the alleged atrocities of Boabdil ? 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 100 THE ALHAMBRA. shocked by the 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 af firmed, he caused to be beheaded in the Court of the Lions ? 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 .ne Alhambra, but asks for the fountain where the Abencerrages were beheaded ; and gazes with hor ror at the grated gallery where the queen is said to nave 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 un justly slandered. I have examined all the authentic chronicles and letters written by Spanish authors contemporary with Boabdil ; some of whom were in the confidence of the Catholic sovereigns, and act ually present ir the camp throughout the war; I have examined all the Arabian authorities I could get access to through the medium of translation, and can find nothing to justify these dark and hate ful accusations. The whole of these tales may be traced to a work commonly called "The Civil Wars ot Granada," containing a pretended history of th e feuds of the Zegries and Abencerrages during the last struggle of the Moorish empire. This work appeared origi nally in Spanish, and professed to be translated from the Arabic by one Gines Perez de Hita, an inhabit ant of Murcia. It has since passed into various languages, and Florian has taken from it much ol the fable of his Gonsalvo of Cordova. It has, in ? great measure, usurped the authority of real history, BOABDIL EL CUICO. 101 and is currently believed by the people, and especi ally 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 mis represented in it, and scenes depicted totally in compatible with their habits and their faith, and which never could have been recorded by a Ma hometan 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 ro mantic 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 calum niated than those of the illustrious living. One would have thought, too, that the unfortunate Boab- dil had suffered enough for his justifiable hostility to Spaniards, by being stripped of his kingdom, without having his name thus wantonly traduced and rendered a bye-word and a theme of infamy in his native land, and in the very mansion of his fathers ! It is not intended hereby to affirm that the trans actions imputed to Boabdil are totally without historic foundation, but as far as they can be traced, they appear to have been the arts of his father, Abul Hassan, who is represented, by both Christian and Arabian chroniclers, as being of a cruel and fero cious nature. It was he who put to death the cavaliers of the illustrious line of the Abencerrages, upon suspicion of their being engaged in a conspir acy to dispossess him of his throne. The story of the accusation of the queen of Bo abdil, and of her confinement in one of the towers, may also be traced to an incident in the life of his tiger-hearted father. Abul Hassan, in his advanced - 102 THE ALHAMBRA. age, married a beautiful Christian captive of no ble descent, who took the Moorish appellation of Zorayda, by whom he had two sons. She was of an ambitious spirit, and anxious that her children should succeed to the crown. For this purpose she worked upon the suspicious temper of the king ; inflaming him with jealousies of his children by his other wives and concubines, whom she accused of plotting against his throne and life. Some of them were slain by the ferocious father. Ayxa la Horra, the virtuous mother of Boabdil, who had once been his cherished favourite, became likewise the object of his suspicion. He confined her and her son in the tower of Gomares, and would have sacrificed Bcab- dil to his fury, but that his tender mother lowered him from the tower, in the night, by means of the scarfs of herself and her attendants, and thus enabled him to escape to Guadix. Such is the only shadow of a foundation that I can find for the story of the accused and captive queen ; and in this it appears that Boabdil was the per secuted instead of the persecutor. Throughout the whole of his brief, turbulent, and disastrous reign, Boabdil gives evidences of a mild and amiable character. He in the first in stance won the hearts of the people by bis affa ble and gracious manners ; he was always peacea ble, and never Inflicted any severity of punishment upon those who occasionally rebelled against him. He was personally brave, but he wanted moral courage, and in times of difficulty and perplexity, was wavering and irresolute. This feebleness of spirit hasteneJ his downfall, while it deprived him of that heroic grace which would have given a grandeur and dignity to his fate, and rendered him worthy of closing the splendid drama of the Moslem domination in Spain. MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL. WHILE my mind was still warm with the subject of the unfortunate Boabdil, I set forth to trace the mementos connected with his story, which yet exist in this scene of his sovereignty and his misfor tunes. In the picture gallery of the Palace of the Generaliffe, hangs his portrait. The face is mild, handsome and somewhat melancholy, with a fair complexion and yellow hair ; if it be a true repre sentation of the man, he may have been wavering and uncertain, but there is nothing of cruelty or un- kindness in his aspect. I next visited the dungeon wherein he was con fined in his youthful days, when his cruel father meditated his destruction. It is a vaulted room in the tower of Comares, under the Hall of Am bassadors. A similar room, separated by a narrow passage, was the prison of his mother, the virtuous Ayxa la Horra. The walls are of prodigious thick ness, and the small windows secured by iron bars. A narrow stone gallery, with a low parapet, extends round 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 night, to the hill-side, at the foot of which waited a domestic with a fleet steed to bear the prince to the mountains. 104 THE ALIIAMBRA. As I paced this gallery, my imagination pictured the anxious queen leaning over the parapet, and listening, with the throbbings of a mother s heart, to the last echo of the horses hoofs, as her son scoured along the narrow valley of the Darro. My next search was for the gate by which Bo- abdjl departed from the Alhambra, when about to surrender his capital. With the melancholy ca price of a broken spirit, he requested of the Catho lic monarchs that no one afterwards might be per mitted to pass through this gate. His prayer, according to ancient chronicles, was complied with, through the sympathy of Isabella, and the gate walled up. For some time I inquired in vain for such a portal ; at length my humble attendant, Mateo, learned among the old residents of the fortress, that a ruinous gateway still existed, by which, according to tradition, the Moorish king had left the for > ress, but which had never been open 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 tower, called la Torre de los Siete Suelos, or, the Tower of the Seven Moors. It is a place famous in the super stitious stories of the neighbourhood, for being the scene OL strange apparitions and Moorish enchant ments. This once redoubtable tower 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 the 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 been again, though unintentionally, ful filled, for the portal has been closed up by loose stones gathered from the ruins, and remains im passable. MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL. 105 Following up the route of the Moslem monarch as it remains on record, I crossed cm horseback the hill of Les Martyrs, keeping along the garden of the convent of the same name, and thence down a rug ged ravine, beset by thickets of aloes and Indian figs, and lined by caves and hovels swarming with gip sies. It was the road taken by Boabdil to avoid passing through the city. The descent was so steep and broken that I was obliged to dismount and lead my horse. Emerging from the ravine, and passing by the Puerta de los Molinos, (the Gate of the Mills,) I is sued forth upon the public promenade, called the Prado, and pursuing the course of the Xenil, arrived at a small Moorish mosque, now converted into the chapel, or hermitage of San Sebastian. A tablet on the wall relates that on this spot Boabdil surrendered the keys of Granada to the Castilian sovereigns From thence I rode slowly across the Vega 10 a village where the family and household of the un happy king had 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 bar ren and dreary heights, forming the skirt of the Al- puxarra 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 cheei- less waste, doubly dismal to the unhappy monarch, as it led to exile ; behind, in the distance, lies the "enamelled Vega," with the Xenil shining among its bowers, and Granada beyond. I spurred my horse to the summit of a rock, where 106 THE ALHAMBRA. Boabdil uttered his last sorrowful exclamation, as he turned his eyes from taking their farewell gaze. It is still denominated el ultimo suspiro del Moro, (the last sigh of the Moor.) Who can wonder at his an guish at being expelled from such a kingdom and such an abode ? With the Alhambra he seemed to be yielding up all the honours of his line, and all the glories and delights of life. It was here, too, that his affliction was imbittered 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 that savours 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 expres sion of scorn at the weakness of the wavering Boab- di). "Had I been he, or he been I," said ihe haughty potentate, " I would rather have made this Alhambra my sepulchre, than have lived without a kingdom in the Alpuxarras." How easy it is for them 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. THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. IN an evening ;; stroll up a narrow glen, over shadowed by fig-trees, pomegranates and myrtles, fhat divides the land of the fortress from those of the Generaliffe, I was struck with the romantic ap pearance of a Moorish tower in the outer wall of the Alhambra, that rose high above the tree-tops, and caught 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 flowers. She was evidently superior to the usual class of people that inhabit 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. The fanciful associations of my mind were increased on being informed by my attendant, Mateo, that this was the tower of the Princesses, (la Torre de las In fantas) so called from having been, according to tradi tion, 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 attention, for the interior is equal for beauty of archi tecture and delicacy .of ornament, to any part of the palace. The elegance of its 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 being anciently the abode of royal beauty. THE ALHAMBRA. The little old fairy queen who lives under the staircase of the Alhambra, and frequents the even ing . tertulias of Dame Antofia, tells some fanciful traditions about three Moorish princesses who were ; c shut up in this tower by their father, a tyrant -.ing of Granada, and were only permitted to ride out at night about the hills, when no one was per mitted to come in their way, under 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 sparkHng with jewels, but they vanish on being spoken to. But before I relate any thing farther respecting these princesses, the reader may be anxious to know something about the fair inhabitant of the tower with her head drest 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 Prin cesses 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. THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHER COCK. ON the brow of the lofty hill of the Albaycin, the highest part of the city of Granada, stand the remains of what was once a royal palace, founded shortly aftei the conquest of Spain by the Arabs. It is now converted into a manufactory, and has fallen into such obscurity that it cost me much trouble to find it, notwithstanding that I had the assistance of the sagacious and all-knowing Mateo Ximenes. This edifice still bears the name by ^vhich it has been known for centuries, namely, la Casa del Gallo dc Viento ; that is, the House of the Weathercock. It was so called from a bronze figure of a warrior on horseback, armed with shield and spear, erected on one of its turrets, and turning with every wind ; bearing an Arabic motto, which, translated into Spanish, was as follows : Dici el Sabio Aben Hafcuz Que asi se defiende el Anduluz, In this way, says Aben Habuz the wise, The Andalusian his foe defies. This Aben Habuz was a captain who served in the invading army of Taric, and was left as alcayde of Granada. He is supposed to have intended this warlike effigy as a perpetual memorial to the Moorish inhabitants, that surrounded as they were by foes, 110 THE ALHAMBRA. and subject to sudden invasion, their safety depended upon being always ready for the field. Other traditions, however, give a different account of this Aben Habuz and his palace, and affirm that his bronze horseman was originally a talisman of great virtue, though in after ages it lost its magic properties and degenerated into a weathercock. The following are the traditions alluded to. THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER IN old times, many hundred years ago, there was a Moorish king named Aben Kabuz, 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 old and super annuated, "languished for repose," and desired nothing more than to live at peace with all tho world, to husband his laurels, and to enjoy in quiet the possessions he had wrested from his neighbours. It so happened, however, that this most reason able and pacific old monarch had young rivals to deal with princes full of his early passion for fame and fighting, and who had some scores to settle which he had run up with their fathers ; he had also some turbulent and discontented districts ot his own terri tories among the Alpvtxarra mountains, which, dur ing the days of his vigour, he had treated with a high hand ; and which, now that he languished fcr repose, were prone to rise in rebellion and to threaten to march to Granada and drive him from his throne. To make the matter worse, as Granada is surrounded by wild and craggy mountains which hide the ap proach 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. 112 THE ALHAMBRA. It was in vain that he built watch-towers on tho mountains 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 would baffle every precaution, and come breaking- out of some unthought-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 predica ment ! While the pacific Aben Habuz was harassed by these perplexities and molestations, an ancient Arabian physician arrived at his court. His gray beard descended to his girdle, aud he Lad 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 was said to have lived ever since the days of Mahomet, and to be the son of Abu Ayub, the last of the companions of the prophet. He had, when a child, followed the conquering army of Amru nto Egypt, where he had remained many years studying the dark sciences, and particularly 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 very honourably en tertained by the king; who, like most superannu ated monarchs, began to take physicians into great favour. 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 en- THE ARABIAN ASR TOL GER, 113 larged 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 cov ered with Egyptian hieroglyphics, with cabalistic symbols, and with the figures of the stars in their signs. This hall he furnished with many imple ments, fabricated under his direction by cunning artificers of Granada, but the occult properties of which were only known to himself. In a little while tiae sage Ibrahim became the bosom counsellor of the king, to whom he applied for advice m every emergency. A ben Habuz was once inveighing against the injustice of his neighbours, and bewailing the restless vigilance he had to observe to guard himself against their invasions ; when he had fin ished, the astrologer remained silent for a moment, &nd then replied, " Know, O 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, ihe 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 notice to guard against it." "God is great ! " exclaimed the pacific Aben Ha buz ; " 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 Ach- bar ! how securely I might sleep in my palace with such sentinels n the top ! " " Listen, O king," continued the astrologer gravely. " When the victorious Amru (God s peace be upon him !) conquered the city of Borsa, this talisman was 114 THE ALHAM RA. destroyed; but I was present, and v ; -ained it, and .studied its secret and mystery, and can make one of like, and even of greater virtues." " O 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 treas ury are at thy command." The astrologer immediately set to work to gratify the wishes of the monarch, shutting himself up in his astrological hall, and exerting the necromantic arts he had learnt in Egypt, he summoned to his as sistance the siyirits and de nons of the; Nile. By his command they transported to his presence a rnummj from a sepulchral chamber in the centre of one of the Pyramids. It was the mummy of the pries who had aided by magic art in rearing that stupend ous pile. The astrologer opened the outer cases of the mummy, and unfolded its many wrappers. On the breast of the corpse was a book written in Chaldaic characters. He seized it with trembling hand, then returning the mummy to its case, ordered the de mons to transport it again to its dark and silent sepulchre in the Pyramid, there to await the final day of resurrection and judgment. This book, say the traditions, was the book oJ knowledge given by God to Adam after his fall, ft had been handed down from generation to genera tion, to king Solomon the Wise, and by the aid of the wonderful secrets in magic and art revealed in it, he had built the temple of Jerusalem. How it had come into the possession of the builder of the Pyramids, He only knows who knows all things. Instructed by this mystic volume, and aided by the genii which it subjected to his command, the astrologer soon erected a great tower upon the top of the palace of Aben Habuz, which stood on the THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 115 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 toward ever) point of the compass, and before each window 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 mysterious Chaldaic characters. This hall was kept constantly closed by a gate 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 impatient to try its virtues ; and longed as ardently for an invasion as he had ever sighed after repose. His desire was soon gratified. Tidings were brought early one morning, by the sentinel ap pointed to watch the tower, that the face of the brazen 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 Granada be put on the alert," said Aben Habuz. " O king," said the astrologer, " let not your city be disquieted, nor your warriors called to arms ; we need no aid of force to deliver you from your ene mies. Dismiss your attendants and let us proceed alone to the secret hall of the tower." 116 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 window that looked towards the pass of Lope was open. " In this direction " said the astrologer, " lies the danger approach, O 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 lo ! they were all in motion. The horses pranced ,ind curveted, the warriors bran dished their weapons, and there was a faint sound of drums and trumpets, and a clang of arms and neighing of steeds, but all no louder, nor more dis tinct, than the hum of the bee or summer-fly in the drowsy ear of him who lies at noon-tide in the shade. " Behold, O 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 abandon their enterprise and retreat without loss of life, strike these effigies with the butt end of this magic lance ; but would you cause bloody feud and carnage among them, strike with the point." A livid streak passed across the countenance of the pacific Aben Habuz ; he seized the mimic lance with trembling eagerness, and tottered towards the table ; his gray beard wagged with chuckling exul tation. "Son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed he, "I think we will have a little blood ! " So saying he thrust the magic lance into some of the pigmy effigies, and belaboured others with the butt end ; upon which the former fell, as dead, up on the board, and the rest turning upon each other, began, pell-mell, a chance medley fight. THE ARABIAN A8RTOLOGER, 117 It was with difficulty the astrologer could stay the hand of 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 Chris tian army had advanced through the heart of the Sierra, almost within sight of Granada, when a dis sension having broken out among them, they had turned their weapons against each other, and after much slaughter, had retreated 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. Oh ! 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, O 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 recompense. 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 astrologi es. hall. These he caused to be furnished 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 re quire covering." He also had baths constructed and provided with 118 THE ALHAMBRA. all kinds of perfumery and aromatic oils ; " for a bath," said he, " is necessary to counteract the rigid ity of age, and to restore freshness and suppleness to the frame withered by study." He caused the apartments to be hung with in numerable silver 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 radi ance like the tempered light of day. " The light of the sun," said he, " is too garish and violent for the eyes of an old man ; and the light of the lamp is more congenial to the studies of a philosopher." Thp treasurer of King Aben Habuz groaned at the sums daily demanded to lit up this hermitage, and he carried his complaints to the king. The royal word, however, was given Aben Habuz shrugged his shoulders. " We must have patience," said he ; " this old man has taken his idea of a philo sophic retreat from the interior of the Pyramids and 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 subter ranean palace. " I am now content," said Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub, to the treasurer ; " I will shut myself up in my cell and devote my time to study. I desire nothing more, nothing, except a trilling solace to amuse me at the intervals of mental labour." " Oh ! wise Ibrahim, ask what thou wilt ; I am bound to furnish all that is necessary for thy soli tude." " I would fain have then a .few dancing women," said the philosopher. " Dancing women ! " echoed the treasurer with surprise. "Dancing women," replied the sage, gravely: "a few will suffice; for I am an old man and a THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 119 philosopher, of simple habits and easily satisfied. Let them, however, be young and fair to look upon for the sight of youth and beauty is refreshing to old age." While the philosophic Ibrahim Ebn 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 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 o? his humours, and even taunted and insulted hi* neighbours to induce them to make incursions ; 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 accustomed sport, and to grow pee vish 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 Guarlix. 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 circum stance, he sent forth a troop of horse to scour the mountains and reconnoitre. They returned after three days absence. Rodovan, the captain of the troop, addressed the king : " We have searched every mountain pass," said he, " but not a helm or spear was stirring. All that we have found in the course of our foray was a Christian damsel of sur passing beauty, sleeping at noon-tide beside a foun tain, whom we have brought away captive." "A damsel of surpassing beauty!" exclaimed Aben Habuz, his eyes gleaming with animation : 120 TUE ALIIAMBRA. " let her be conducted into my presence." " Pardon me, O king ! " replied Rodovan, " but our warfare at present is scanty ; and yields but little harvest. I had hoped this chance gleaning would have been allowed for my services." " Chance gleaning ! " cried Aben Habuz. " What ! a damsel of surpassing beauty ! By the head of my father ! it is the choice fruits of warfare, only to be garnered up into the royal k/^ping. Let the damsel be brought hither instantly The beautiful damsel was accordingly conducted into his presence. She was arrayed in the Gothic 3tyle with all the luxury of ornament that had pre vailed 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 torehead, 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. The flashes of her dark refulgent eye were like sparks of tire on the withered, yet combustible breast of Aben Habuz, and set it in a flame. 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 lately ruled over this land. The armies of my father have been destroyed as if by magic among these mountains, he has been driven into exile, and his daughter is a slave." " Be comforted, beautiful princess thou art no longer a slave, but a sovereign ; turn thine eyes gra ciously upon Aben Habuz, and reign over him and his dominions." " Beware, O king," whispered Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub , " this may be some spirit conjured up by the magicians of the Goths, and sent for thy undoing, THE ARABIAN ASIt TOL GE& 121 Or It may be one of those northern sorceresses, wlio assume the most seducing forms to beguile\the un wary. Methinks I read witchcraft in her eye, and sorcery in every movement. Let my sovereign be ware this must be the enemy pointed out by the talisman." " Son of Abu Ayub," replied the king, " you are a wise man and a conjuror, I grant but you are little versed in the ways of woman. In the knowledge of the sex, 1 will yield to no man , no, not to the wise Solomon himself, notwithstanding the number of his wives and his concubines. As to this damsel, I see much comfort in her for my old days, even such comfort as David, the 1 father of Sol omon, found in the society of Abishag the Shuna- mite." " Hearken, O king," rejoined the astrologer, sud denly changing his tone " I have given thee many triumphs over thy enemies, and by means of my talisman, yet thou hast never given me share of the spoils ; grant me this one stray captive to solace me in my retirement, and I am content." " What ! " cried Aben Habuz, " more women ! hast thou not already dancing women to solace thee what more wouldst thou desire." " Dancing women, have I, it is true ; but I have none that sing ; and music is a balm to old age. This captive, I perceive, beareth a s ilver lyre, and must be skilled in minstrelsy. Give her to me, I pray thee, to sooth my senses after the toil of study." The ire of the pacific monarch was kindled, and he loaded the philosopher with reproaches. The latter retired indignantly to his hermitage ; but ere he departed, he again warned the monarch to be ware of his beautiful captive. Where, in fact, is the old man in love that will listen to counsel ? Aben Habuz had felt the full power of the witchery of the eye, and the sorcery of movement, and the more he gazed, the more he was enamoured. 133 THE ALHAMBRA. He resigned himself to the full sway of his pas sions. His only study, was how to render himself amiable in the eyes of the Gothic beauty. He had not youth, it is true, to recommend him, but then e had riches ; and when a lover is no longer young-, e becomes generous. The Zacatin of Granada as ransacked for the most precious merchandise of le East. Silks, jewels, precious gems and exquis- e perfumes, all that Asia rnd Africa yielded of ch and rare, were lavished upon the princess. She tceived all as her due, and regarded them with the difference of one accustomed to magnificence. 11 kinds of spectacles and festivities were devised r her entertainment ; minstrelsy, dancing, tourna* raents, bull-fights; Granada, for a time, was a scene of perpetual pageant. The Gothic princess seemed to take a delight in causing expense, as if she sought to drain the treasures of the monarch. There were no bounds to her caprice, or to the extravagance of her ideas. Yet, notwithstanding all this munfi- cence, the venerable Aben Habuz could not flatter himself that he had made any impression on her heart. She never frowned on him, it is true, but she had a singular way of baffling his tender advances. Whenever he began to plead his passion, she struck her silver lyre. There was a mystic charm in the sound : on hearing of it, an irresistible drowsiness seized upon the superannuated lover, he fell asleep, and only woke when the temporary fumes of pas sion had evaporated. Still the dream of love had a bewitching power over his senses ; so he continued to dream on , while all Granada scoffed at his in fatuation, and groaned at the treasures lavished for a song. At length a danger burst over the head of Aben Habuz, against which, his talisman yielded him no warning. A rebellion broke out in the very heart of his capital ; headed by the bold Rodovan. Aben THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 123 Habuz was, for a time, besieged in his palace, and it was not without the greatest difficulty that he re pelled his assailants and quelled the insurrection. He now felt himself compelled once more to re sort to the assistance of the astrologer. He found him still shut up in his hermitage, chewing the cud of resentment. " O wise son of Abu Ayub," said he, " what thou hast foretold, has, in some sort, come to pass. This Gothic princess ht\3 brought trouble and danger upon me." " Is the king then disposed to put her away from him ? ** said the astrologer with animation. " Sooner would I part with my kingdom ! " replied Aben Habuz. " What then is the need of disturbing me in my philosophical retirement?" said the astrologer, pe > vishly. " Be not angry, O sagest of philosophers, i would fain have one more exartidn of thy magic art. Devise some means by which I may be secure from internal treason, as well as outward war some safe retreat, where I may take refuge and be at peace." The astrologer ruminated for a moment, and a subtle gleam shone from his eye under his bushy eyebrows. "Thou hast heard, no doubt, O king," said he, " of the palace and garden of Irem, whereof mention is made in that chapter of the Koran entitled the dawn of day. " " I have heard of that garden, marvellous things are related of it by the pilgrims who visit Mecca, but I have thought them wild fables, such as those are prone to tell who visit remote regions." " Listen, O king, and thou shaft know the mystery of that garden. In my younger days I was in Arabia the Happy, tending my father s camels. One of them strayed away from the rest, and was lost. I 124 THE ALHAMBRA. searched for it for several days about the deserts of Aden, until wearied and faint, I laid myself down 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 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 neighbourhood I met with an aged dervise, learned in the traditions and secrets of e 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 over hung 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 Addiles, 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 pal ace, with gardens that should rival all that was re lated 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 garden, were laid under a perpetual spell, that hides them from the human sight, excepting that they are seen at inter vals ; by way of keeping his sin in perpetual remem brance. THE ARABIAN ASR TOL 0., ER m "This story, O king, and the wonders I haa . , n ever dwell in my mind, and, in after years, wherr. , had been in Egypt and made myself master of all kinds of magic spells, I determined to return and visit the garden of Irem. I did so. and found it re vealed to my instructed sight. I took possession of the palace of Sheddad, and passed several days in his mock paradise. The genii who watch over the place, were obedient to my magic power, and reveal ed to me the spells by which the whole garden had been, as it were, conjured into existence, and by which it was rendered invisible. Such spells, O king, are within the scope of my art. What sayest thou ? Wouldst thou have a palace and garden like those of Irem, filled with all manner of delights, but hidden from the eyes of mortals ? " "O, -wise son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed Aben Habuz, trembling with eagerness "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, that shall enter the magic portal of the palace." The monarch gladly agreed to so moderate a stip ulation, and the astrologer began his work. On the summit of the hill immediately above his subterra nean hermitage he caused a great gateway or barbi can to be erected ; opening through the centre of a strong tower. There was an outer vestioule or porch with a lofty arch, and within it a portal secured by massive gates. On the key-stone of the portal the astrologer, with his own hand, wrought the figure of a huge key, and on the key-stone of the outer arch of the vestibule, which was loftier than that of the portal, he carved a gigantic hand. These were po tent talismans, over which he repeated many sen tences in an unknown tongue. 124 THE ALHAMBRA. searr \xen this gateway was finished, he shut himself ^ for two days in his astrological hall, engaged in secret incantations: on the third he ascended the iili. and passed the whole day on its summit. At a late hour of the night he came down and presented himself before Aben Habuz. " At length, O king," said he, " my labour is accomplished. On the sum mit of the hill stands one of the most delectable pal aces that ever the head of man devised, or the heart of man desired. It contains sumptuous halls and galleries, delicious gardens, cool founta : ns and fra grant baths; in a word, the whole mountain is con verted into a paradise. Like the garden oi Irem, it is protected by a mighty charm, which hides it from the view and search of mortals, excepting such as possess the secret of its talismans." " Enough," cried Aben Habuz, joyfully ; "to-mor row morning, bright and early, we will ascend and take possession." The happy monarch scarcely slept that night. Scarcely had the rays of the sun begun to play about the snowy summit 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 dress sparkling with jewels, while round her neck was suspended her silver lyre. The astrologer walk ed on the other side of the king, assisting his steps v/ith his hieroglyphic staff, for he never mounted steed of any kind. Aben Habuz looked to see the towers of the prom ised palace brightening above him, and the embow ered terraces of its gardens stretching along the heights, but as yet, nothing of the king was to be descried. " That is the mystery and safeguard of the place," said the astrologer, " nothing can be discern ed until you have passed the spell-bound gateway, and been put in possession of the place." THE ARABIAN AS TR OL GER. 127 As they approached *he( gateway, the astrologer paused, and pointed out to the king the mystic hand and key carved upon the portal and the arch. "These," said he, "are the talismans which guard the entrance to this paradise. Until yonder hand shall reach down arid 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 pal frey of the princess proceeded on, and bore her in at the portal, to the very centre of the barbican. " Behold," cried the astrologer, " my promised re ward ! the first animal with its burden, that should enter the magic gateway." Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleas antry of the ancient man ; but when he found him to be in earnest, his gray beard trembled with indig nation. " Son of Abu Ayub," said he, sternly, " what equiv ocation 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 to raise thy thoughts to her, who is the delight of my heart." "What need I of wealth," 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 sat upon her palfrey, in the pride of youth and beauty, and a light smile ci icorn curled her rosy lip, at this dispute between two gray beards for her charms. The wrath of the monarch got the better of his discretion. " Base son of the desert," cried he, "thou mayest be master of many arts, but 128 THE ALIIAMBRA. know me for thy master and presume not to juggle with thy king." " My master ! echoed the istrologer, my king ! 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 astonish ment. Recovering himself he ordered a thousand workmen to dig with pickaxe and spade into the ground where the astrologer had disappeared. They digged and digged, but in vain ; the flinty bosom of the hill resisted their implements ; or if they did pen etrate a little way, the earth filled 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 palace of the astrologer, but it was no where to be found : where once had been an en trance, 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 remained fixed with his face turned toward 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 as trologer on a magnificent divan, slumbering and THE ARABIAN ASRTOLOGER. 129 nodding to the silver lyre of the princess, which seemed to hold a magic sway over his senses. Aben Habuz sought for 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 astrologer. 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 neigh bours, whom he had defied and taunted, and cut up at his leisure, while master of the talismanic horse man, finding him no longer protected by magic spell, made inroads into his territories from all sides, and the remainder of the life of the most pacific of mon- archs, 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 mountain, and in some measure realizes the fabled delights of the garden of T rem. The spell-bound gateway still exists, protect ed, no doubt, by the mystic hand and key, and now forms the gate of justice, the grand entrance to the fortress. Under that gateway, it is said, the old as trologer 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 neigh- 130 THE ALHAMBEA. bouring trees ; so that it is, in fact, the drowsiest military p9St in all Christendom. All this, say the legends, will endure ; from age to age the princess will remain captive to the astrologer, and the astrol oger 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. LEGEND OF THE THREE BE A UTIFUL PRINCESSES. IN old times there reigned a Moorish king 1 in Granada, whose name was Mohamed, to which his subjects added the appellation of el Haygari, or " the left-handed." Some say he was so called, on account of his being really more expert with his sinister, than his dexter hand ; others, because he was prone to take every thing by the wrong end ; or, in other words, to mar wherever he meddled. Certain it is, either through misfortune or misman agement, 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 dis guise of a fisherman. Still he was as brave as he was blundering, and, though left-handed, wielded his scimitar to such purpose, that he each time re-established himself upon his throne, by dint of hard fighting. Instead, however, of learning wis dom from adversity, he hardened his neck, and stiffened his left-arm in wilfulness. The evils of a public nature which he thus brought upon him self and his kingdom, may be learned by those who will delve into the Arabian annals of Grana da ; 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 182 TEE ALHAMBRA. were conducting a long string of mules laden with spoil, and many captives of both sexes, among whom, the monarch was struck with the appear ance of a beautiful damsel richly attired, who sat weeping, on a low palfrey, and heeded not the con soling 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 for tress 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 eveiy thing was devised to sooth her melancholy, and the monarch, more and more enamoured, 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 country what was worse, he was stricken in years ! The monarch finding his assiduities of no avail, determined to enlist in his favour the duenna, who had been captured with the lady. She was an Anda- lusian by birth, whose Christian name is forgotten, being mentioned in Moorish legends, by no other appellation than that of the discreet Cacliga 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 young mistress. ; Go to, now !" cried she; " what is there in al) this to weep and wail about ? Is it not better to be mistress of this beautiful palace with all its gar dens 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 ? You marry him not his religion. And if he is waxing THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 133 a little old, the sooner will you be a widow ana 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 Cadiga prevailed. The Spanish lady dried her tears and became the spouse of Mohamed the left-handed. She even con formed in appearance to the faith of her royal hus band, and her discreet duenna immediately became a zealous convert to the Moslem doctrines ; it was then the latter received the Arabian name of Cadiga, 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 sum moned his astrologers on this happy event. They cast the nativities of the three princesses, and shook their heads. " Daughters, O king," said they, " are always precarious property ; but these will most need your watchfulness when they ar rive at a marriageable age. At that time gather them under your wing, and trust them to no other guardianship." Mohamed the left-handed was acknowledged by his courtiers to be a wise king, and was certainly so considered by himself. 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 134 THE ALII A MBRA. 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 Cadiga. Many years had yet to elapse before the prin cesses would arrive at that period of danger, the marriageable age. " It is good, however, to be cau tious in time," said the shrewd monarch ; so he de termined to have them reared in the royal castle of Salobrena. This was a sumptuous palace, in- crusted, as it were in a powerful Moorish fortress, on the summit of a hill that overlooks the Mediter ranean sea. It was a royal retreat, in which the Moslem mon- archs shut up such of their relations as might en danger their safety ; allowing them all kinds of lux uries 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 enjoyments ; and attended by female slaves whc anticipated their wishes. They had delightful gardens for their recreation, rilled with the rarest fruits and flowers, with aromat ic grov is and perfumed baths. On three sides the castle looked down upon a rich valley, enameled with all kinds of culture, and bounded by the lofty Alpuxarra mountains ; on the other side it over- looke.d the broad sunny sea. In this delicious abode, in a propitious climate and under a cloudless sky, the three princesses grew up into wondrous beauty ; but, though all roared alike, they gave early tokens of diversity o. character. Their names were Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda ; and such was the 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 every thing, as she THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 135 had done in entering first 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 taste ful 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 ani mals, all of which she cherished with the fondest care. Her amusements, too, were of a gentle na ture, and mixed up with musing and reverie. She would sit for hours in a balcony gazing on the spark ling stars of a summer 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 an arrafia or 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 moved on serenely, and Cadiga, to whum the princesses were confided, was faithful to he\ irust and attended them with unremitting :are. The castle of Salobrefia, as has been said, was built upon a hill on the sea coast. One of the ex- terior walls straggled down the profile of the hill, until it reached a jutting rock overhanging the sea, with a narrow sandy beach at its foot, laved by the rippling billows. A small watch tower on this rock had been fitted up as a pavilion, with latticed win dows 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 one of the windows of the pavilion, as her sisters, reclined 1S6 THE ALHAMBRA. on ottomans, were taking the siesta, or noon-tide slumber. Her attention had been 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 awakened her sisters, and all three peeped cautiously through the close jealousies 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 surround ed 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 "f the male sex but black slaves, or the rude fishermen of the sea coast, it is not to be wondered at, that the ap pearance of three gallant cavaliers in the pride of youth and manly beauty should produce some com motion in their bosoms. " 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 Zo- rayda ; " what grace 1 what elegance ! what spirit I " The gentle Zorahayda said nothing, but she se cretly gave preference to the cavalier in green. The princesses remained gazing until the prison ers were out 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 Cadiga found them in this situation; TEHEE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 187 they related to her what they had seen, and even the withered heart of the duenna was warmed. " Poor youths!" exclaimed she, "I ll warrant their cap tivity 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 serenad ing" ! " The curiosity of Zayda was fully aroused. She was insatiable in her inquiries, and drew from the duenna the most animated 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 sere nades. Every day the curious Zayda renewed her in quiries; and every day the sage duenna repeated her stories, which were listened to with unmoved inter est, though frequent sighs, by her gentle auditors. The discreet old woman at length awakened to the mischief she might be doing. She had been ac customed 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 morn ing on a divan in one of the court halls of the Al- rrnnbra, when a noble arrived from the fortress of Salobrefia, with a message from the sage Cadiga, 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, with 138 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 readily divined the mean ing 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 eye of the discreet Cadiga 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 Alham- bra should be prepared for their reception, and de parted at the head of his guards for the fortress of Salobreiia, 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 bloom ing, blushing, 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 de meanour and a penetrating ejs. She entered with a stately and decided step, and made a profound reverence to Mohamed, treating 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 as sistance 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 THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 139 which the monarch was delighted. Zorahayda was shy and timid ; smaller than her sisters, and with a 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 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 him self of the prediction of the astrologers. " Three daughters ! three daughters ! " muttered he, re peatedly 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 send ing 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 armour. The princesses rode beside the king, closely veiled, on beautiful 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 that made the most musical tinkling as they ainbk*d gently along. Wo to the unlucky wight, "however, who lingered in the way when he heard the tinkling of these bells tho guards were ordered to cut him down without niux-v. 140 TEE ALHAMBRA. The cavalcade was drawing near to Granada, when it overtook, 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 their faces on the earth, ordering their captives to do the like. Among the prisoners, were the three identical cava liers whom the princesses had seen from the pavilion. They either did not understand, or were too haughty to obey the order, and remained standing and gazing upon the cavalcade as it approached. The ire of the monarch was kindled at this fla grant defiance of his orders, and he determined to punish it with his own hand. Drawing his scimitar and pressing forward, he was about to deal a left- handed blow, that would 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 forgot her shyness and became eloquent in their behalf. Mohamed paused, with uplifted scimitar, when the captain of the guard threw himself at his feet. " Let not your majesty," 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 punish their audacity let them be taken to the Vermilion towers and put to hard labour." Mohamed was making one of his usual left-handed blunders. In the tumult and agitation of this blus tering 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 ; THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 141 It Is not a matter of wonder, therefore, that the hearts of the three cavaliers were completely capti vated ; 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 demean our of the captives, and cherished in their hearts all that they had heard of their valour and noble lineage. The cavalcade resumed its march ; the three prin cesses rode pensively along on their tinkling pal freys, 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 somewhat apart from the main palace of the Alhambra, though connected with it by the main wall that 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 rirest flowers. On the other side it overlooked a deep embowered ravine, that separated the grounds of the Alhambra from those of the Generaliffe. 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 ceiling of the hall were adorned with arabesques and fret-work 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 nlumaffe or sweetest note. 142 THE ALHAMBRA. The princesses having been represented as always cheerful when in the castle of Salobrena, the king had expected to see them enraptured with the Al- hambra. To his surprise, however, they began to pine, and grew green and melancholy, and dissatis fied with every thing around them. The flowers yielded them no fragrance ; the song of the night ingale 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 morn ing till night, and from night till morning. The king, who was somewhat of a testy, tyranni cal old man, took this at first in high dudgeon ; but he reflected that his daughters had arrived at an age when the female mind expands and its desires aug ment. "They are no longer children," said he to himself; "they are women grown, and require suit able objects to interest them." He put in requisi tion, therefore, all the dress makers, and the jewel lers, and the artificers in gold and silver throughout the Zacatin of Granada, and the princesses were overwhelmed with robes of silk, and of tissue and of brocade, and cachemire 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 the i finery, and looked like three blighted rose buds, drooping from one stalk. The king was at his wit s end. He had in general a laudable confidence in his own judgment, and never took advice. " The whims and caprices of three marriageable damsf Is, 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 experi enced duenna. "Cadiga," said the king, " I know you to be one THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 143 of the most discreet women in the whole world, as well as one of the most trustworthy ; for these rea sons, I have always continued you about the persona 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 upoa the princesses, and to devise some means of restor ing them to health and cheerfulness." Cadiga promised implicit obedience. In fact, she knew more of the malady of the princesses than they did themselves. Shutting herself up with them, however, she endeavoured to insinuate her self into their confidence. " My dear children, what is the reason you are so dismal and downcast, in so beautiful a place, where you have every thing that heart can wish ? " The princesses looked vacantly round the apart ment, 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 screaming bird that chatters words without ideas ! One must be without brains to tolerate such a pest." " Shall I send for a monkey from the rock of Gib raltar, to divert you with his antics ? " "A monkey! faugh!" cried Zorayda, "the de testable 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 ; " beside, 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 144 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 tow ers, last evening, I saw the three cavaliers resting after their day s labour. 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 for give me, 1 could not help being moved at hearing the songs of my native country.- And then to see three such noble and handsome youths in chains and slavery." Here the kind-hearted old woman rould not re strain her tears. " Perhaps, mother, you could manage to procure us a sight of these cavaliers," said Zayda. " 1 think," said Zorayda, "a little nrisic would be quite reviving." The timid Zorahayda said nothing, but threw her arms round the neck of Cacliga. 44 Mercy on me ! " exclaimed the discreet old woman ; 4< what are vou 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 ! they are the enemies of our faith, and you must not even think of them, but with abhor- renje." There is an admirable intrepidity in the female will, particularly about the marriageable age, which is not to be deterred 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 do ? She was certainly the most discreet old woman in the THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES, 145 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? Beside, 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 Span iard born, and had the lingerings of Christianity in her heart. So she set about to contrive how the wishes 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 Eaba, who was reported 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 mistresses, the three princesses, who are shut up iit 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." " What, and to have my head set grinning over the gate of my own tower for that would be the rewird, if the king should discover it " " No danger of any thing of the kind ; the affair may be managed 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, that passes immediately below the tower. Put the three Christians to work there, and at the intervals of their labour 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_. 146 THE ALHAMBEA. Her eloquence was irresistible. The very next day the three cavaliers were put to work in the ra vine. During the noon-tide heat when their fellow labourers were sleeping in the shade, and the guard nodded 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 Cadiga, 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 basti nadoed." " What, bastinado such gallant cavaliers, and for singing so charmingly ! " The thre j beautiful prin cesses were filled with horror at the idea. With all her virtuous indignation, the good old woman was of a placable nature and easily appeased, Beside, 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 farther objection, therefore, to the amorous ditty of the cavaliers. When it was finished, the princesses remained silent for a time ; at length Zorayda 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 night ingale." From this time forward the cavaliers worked THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINONSS-E8. 147 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 princesses showed themselves at the balcony, when they could do so without being per ceived by the guards. They conversed with the cavaliers also by means of flowers, with the sym bolical language of which they were mutually ac quainted : the difficulties 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 Cadiga, who consider ed it all owing to her able management. At length there was an interruption in this tele graphic correspondence, for several days the cavaliers ceased to make their appearance in the glen. The three beautiful 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 Cadiga 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 148 THE ALHAMBRA. the tidings. The fair Zaycla was indignant at the slight put upon them, in being thus 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 balcony, 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 Cadiga did all in her power to sooth 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 think ing no more of the Moorish beauties in he Alham- bra. Take comfort, therefore, my children, and drive them from your hearts." The comforting words of the discreet Cadiga only redoubled the distress of the 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 herself; " but I am rightly served for having connived at this deception of your worthy father never talk more to me of your Span ish cavaliers." " Why, what has happened, good Cadiga ? " ex claimed the princesses, in breathless anxiety. "What has happened ? treason has happened! or what is almost as bn.d, treason has been proposed > and to me the faithfulest of subjects the trustiest/ of duennas yes, my children the Spanish cavalier; have dared to tamper with me ; that I should per- i THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 149 suade 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, 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 no\v and then breaking out into exclamations" That ever I should live to be so insulted I, the faithfulest 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?" The good old woman paused suddenly in her grief, and looking up " Possible ! " echoed she, "to be sure it is possible. Have not the cavaliers al ready bribed Hussein Baba, the renegado captain of the guard, and arranged the whole plan ? But then to think of deceiving your father your father, who has placed such confidence in me? Here the worthy old woman gave way to a fresh burst of grief, and began again to rock backwards and forwards, 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 unreasonably. 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 150 THE ALEAMBRA. our mother ; where we shall live in freedom ? and shall we not each have a youthful husband in ex change 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 be hind to bear the brunt of his vengeance ? " " By no means, my good Cadiga. Cannot you fly with us? " " Very true, my child, and to tell the truth, when I talked the matter over with Hussein Baba, he prom ised to take care of me if I would accompany you in your flight : but then, bethink you, my children ; are you willing to renounce the faith of your father?" " 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 iny sisters." " Right again ! " exclaimed the old woman, bright ening up. " It was the original faith of your mother ; and bitterly did she lament, on her death-bed, that she had renounced it. I promised her then to take care of your souls, and I am rejoiced to see th.it they are now in a fair way to be saved. Yes, my children ; I too was born a Christian and have always been 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 reconciled 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 dis creet and provident old woman had consulted with the cavaliers and the renegade,, and had concerted the. whole plan of escape. The eldest princess im- THREE BEAUTIFUL P&&TUE88EB. 151 mediately assented to ft, 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 be tween filial feeling and youthful passion. 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, pas sages, 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 in surrection, or of secretly issuing forth on private enterprises. Many of them are now entirely lost, while others remain, partly choked up 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 conduct the princesses to a sally-port beyond the walls of the city, where the cavaliers were to be ready with fleet steeds to bear them all over the borders. The appointed night arrived. The tower of the princesses had been locked up as usual, and the Al hambra was buried in deep sleep. Towards mid night the discreet Cadiga listened from a balcony of a window that looked into the garden. Hussein Baba, the renegado, was already below, and gave the ap pointed 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, Zorahayda, she hesitated and trembled. Several times she ventured a delicate little foot upon the ladder, and as often 152 THtf ALHAMBRA. drew it back ; while her poor little heart fluttered more and more the longer she delayed. She cast a wistful look back into the si! ken chamber ; she had lived in it, to be sure, like a bird in a cage, but within it she was secure who could not 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 lad der, and anon she thought of her father, and shrunk back. But fruitless is the attempt to describe the conflict in the bosom of one so young, and tender, and loving, but so dmid 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 walk ing the rounds." cried the renegado; "if we linger longer we perish princess, descend 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 sis ters ! " The two eldest princesses were shocked at the thoughts of leaving her behind, and would fain have lingered, but the patrol was advancing; the rene gado was furious, and they were hurried away to the subterraneous passage. They groped their way through a fearful labyrinth cut through the heart of the mountain, and succeeded in reaching, undiscov ered, an iron gate that opened outside of the walls. The Spanish cavaliers were waiting to receive them, THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 153 disguised as Moorish soldiers of the guard com manded by the renegade. 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 lovers ; the discreet Cadiga mounted behind the renegade, and 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 distance all pursuit," replied the cavaliers. They put spurs to their horses and scoured across the Vega. They attained to the foot of the moun tain 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 ball of fire sprang up in a light blaze on the top of the watch-tower of the Al hambra. " Confusion ! " cried the renegado, " that 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, they beheld that the ball of fire of the Alhambra was answered in every direction ; light after light blazed on the atalayas or watch- towers of the mountains. 44 Forward ! forward ! " cried the renegado, with many an oath " to the bridge ! to the bridge ! before the alarm has re-ached there." 154 THE ALHAMBRA. They doubled the promontory of the mountain, and arrived in sight of the famous Puente del Pinos, that crosses a rushing stream often dyed with Chris tian and Moslem blood. To their confusion the tower on the bridge blazed with lights and glittered with armed men. The renegade pulled up his steed, rose in his stirrups and looked about him for a moment, then beckoning to the cavaliers he struck ofif from the road, skirted the river for some dis tance, and dashed into its waters. The cavaliers called upon the princesses to cling to them, and did the same. They were borne for some distance down the rapid current, the surges roared round them, but the beautiful princesses clung to their Christian knights and never uttered a complaint. The cavaliers at tained the opposite bank in safety, and were con ducted 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 ; when their restoration to their country and friends was celebrated with great rejoicings, for they were of the noblest families. The beau tiful princesses were forthwith received into the bosom of the church, and after being in all due form made regular Christians, were rendered happy lovers. 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 Cadiga. 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 terror knew no bounds. "Grasp me not so tightly," cried Hussein Baba; "hold on by my belt, and fear nothing." She held firmly with both hands by the leathern THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 155 belt that girded the broad-backed renegade; 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 Cadiga ? " cried the prin cesses in alarm. " I know not," replied the renegade. " My belt came loose in the midst of the river, and Cadiga was swept with it down the stream. The will of Allah be done ! but it was an embroidered belt and of great price ! " There was no time to waste in idle reports, yet bitterly did the princesses bewail the loss of their faithful and discreet counsellor. That excellent old woman, however, did not lose more than half of her nine lives in the stream. 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 farther became of the discreet Cadiga, the legend does not mention. Certain it is, that she evinced her discretion 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 practised upon him by the most faithful of servants. It was the only in stance 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 dis position to elope. It is thought, indeed, that she secretly repented having remained behind. 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 some times the notes of her lute were heard accompanying plaintive ditties, in which she was said to lament 156 THE ALffAMBSA. the loss of her sisters and her lover, and to bewail her solitary life. She died young, and, according to popular rumour, was buried in a vault beneath the tower, and her untimely fate has given rise to more than one traditionary fable. LOCAL TRADITIONS. THE common people of Spain have an oriental pas sion for story-telling and are fond of the marvellous. They will gather round the doors of their cottages 21 summer evenings, or in the great cavernous chimney corners of their ventas in the winter, and listen with insatiable delight to miraculous legends of saints, per ilous adventures of travellers, and daring exploits of robbers and contrabandistas. The wild and solitary nature of a great pan of Spain ; the imperfect state of knowledge ; the scanuness of general topics of con versation, and the romantic, adventurous life that every one leads in a land where travelling is yet in its prim itive state, all contribute to cherish this love of oral narration, and to produce a strong expression of the extravagant and wonderful. There is no theme, how ever, more prevalent or popular than that of treasures buried by tne Moors. It pervades the whole country. In traversing the wild Sierras, the scenes of ancient prey 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 be ing closely questioned, will suspend the smoking of his cigurillo to tell some tale of Moslem gold buried beneath its foundations ; nor is there a ruined alc_a^jr in a city, but has its golden tradition, handed down, from generation to generation, among the poor people of the neighbourhood. These, like most popular fictions, have had some groundwork in fact. During the wars between Moor 158 THE ALHAMBRA. and Christian, which distracted the country for cen turies, towns and castles were liable frequently and suddenly to change owners ; and the inhabitants, dur ing 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 re quires but a few facts of the kind to give birth to a thousand fictions. The stories thus originating have generally some thing of an oriental tinge, and are marked with that mixture of the Arabic and Gothic which seems to me to characterize every thing 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 mon sters, or fiery dragons ; sometimes by enchanted Moors, who sit by it in armour, with drawn swords, but motionless as statues, maintaining a sleepless watch for ages. The Alhambra, of course, from the peculiar circum stances of its history, is a strong hold for popular fic tions of the kind, and curious reliques, dug up from time to time, have contributed to strengthen them. At one time, an earthen vessel was found, containing Moorish coins and the skeleton of a cock, which, ac cording to the opinion of shrewd inspectors, must have been buried alive. At another time, a vessel was digged up, containing a great scarabneus, or beetle, of baked clay, covered with Arabic inscriptions, which was pronounced a prodigious amulet of occult virtues. Ixi this way the wits of the ragged brood who inhabit THE MOOES LEGACY. 159 the Alhambra have been set wool gathering, until there is not a hall, or tower, or vault, of the old fortress that has not been made the scene of some marvellous tra dition. I have already given brief notices of some related to me by the authentic Mateo Ximenes, and now sub join one wrought out from various particulars gath ered among the gossips of the fortress. 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 reser voirs of water, hidden from sight, and which have, existed from the time of me Moors. At one cornei of this esplanade-is a Mcorish well, cut through the , living- 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 tne purest and sweetest springs and fountains. The one we are speaking of is famous throughout Granada, insomuch that the water-carriers, some bearing great water- jars on their shoulders, others driving jp^sses before them, laden with earthen vessels, are ascending and descending the steep woody avenues of the Alham bra from early dawn until a late hour of the night. Fountains and wells, ever since the scriptural clays, have been noted gossiping places in hot climates, and at the well in question there is a kind of per petual club kept up during the live-long day, by the invalids, old women, and other curious, do-nothing 160 THE ALHAMBRA. folk of the fortress, who sit here on the stone benches under an awning spread over the well to shelter the toll-gatherer from the sun, and dawdle over the gos sip of the fortress, and question any water-carrier that arrives, about the news of the city, and make long comments on every thing 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 1 has of animals 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." / To return from this digression, ) Peregil the Gal lego had begun 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, b^ing a stout shaggy-haired donkey. On each side of this his long-eared aid-de-camp, in a kind of pan nier, 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 : " guien qiiiere agita-~> THE MOOR S LEGACY. 101 agita mas fria que la nteve. Who wants water water colder than snow who wants, water from the well of the Alhambra cold as ice and clear as crys tal ? " 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 irre sistible. Thus Peregil the Gallego was noted through out all Granada for being one of the civilest, pleas. int- est, and happiest of mortals. Yet it is not he who sings loudest and jokes most that has the lightest heart. , Under all this air of merriment, honest Pere- ~gil 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 help-matt too, who was any thing but a help to him. She had been a village oeauty before marriage, noted for her skill in dancing the beteto and rattling the castanets, and she still retained her early propensities, spend ing the hard earnings of honest Peregil in frippery, and laying the very donkey under requisition for junketting parties into the country on Sundays, and saints clays, and those innumerable holyclays which are rather more numerous in Spain than the days of the week. With all this she was a little of a slattern, something more of a lie-a-bed, and, above all, a gos sip i>f the first water ; neglecting house, household and every thing else, to loiter slip-shod in the houses of her gossip neighbours. i. He., however, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, accommodates the yoke of matrimony to the submissive neck. /Peregil bore all the heavy dispen sations 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 162 THE ALHAMBIIA. 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 him self a scanty holyday and had a handful of marave- ilies 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 irambol among the orchards of the Vega, while his v/ife was dancing with her holyday 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 tr : s. The day had been uncommonly sultry; the nig it was one of those delicious moonlights, which tempt the inhabitants of those 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 v-ater were therefore still abroad. Peregil, like a considerate, painstaking little father, thought of his iuingry children. " One more journey to the well," said he to himself, " to earn a good Sunday s puchero for the little ones." So saying, he trudged rapidly up the steep avenue of the Alhambra, 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 dry blows serve in lieu for 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 the stone bench in the moonlight. Pere gil paused at first, and regarded him with surprise, not unmixed with awe, but the Moor feebly beckoned him to approach* THE MOORS LEGACY. 103 " 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. " Gocl forbid," said he, " that I should ask fee or reward for doing a common act of hu manity." 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 de manded 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 shall be amply repaid." Honest Pe: ;gil thus saw himself unexpectedly saddled with an intldel guest, but he was too hu* mane 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 stranger, without friend or home : wouldst thou turn him forth to perish in the streets ? " The wife would still have remonstrated, for, though she lived in a hovel, she was a furious stick ler for the credit of her house ; the little water-car- 104 THE ALIIAMBEA, rier, however, for once was stiff-necked, 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 pa tient acknowledged his kindness. During an inter val of his fits he called him to his side, and address ing 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 sand a. I 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 con cerning it, but his convulsions returned with in creased violence, and in a little while he expired. The water-carrier s wife was now as one dis tracted. " 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 arid bury it in the sands on the banks of the Xenil.. No one saw the Moor enter our dwelling, and no one will know any thing of his death." So said, so done. The wife aided him : they rolled the THE MOORS LEGACY. 165 body of the unfortunate Moslem in the mat on which he had expired, laid it across the ass, and Mattias 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, 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 uni versal knowledge of the affairs of others, and he had no more power of retention than a sieve. It was said that he slept with but 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. Cer tain it is, he was a sort of scandalous chronicle for the quidnuncs of Granada, and had more customers than all the rest of his fraternity. This meddlesome barber heard Peregil arrive at an unusual hour of 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 neighbour assist a man in a 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 loop-hole, watching the lights that gleamed through the chinks of his neighbour s door, and before day light 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, setting every thing upside down, until sun rise. He then took a basin under his arm, and sallied forth to the house of his daily customer, the Alcalde. 160 THE ALUAMBRA. 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 bar ber and newsmonger at the same time. " Strange doings ! Robbery, and murder, and burial, all in one night ! " "Hey? how! What is it you say?" 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 mur dered 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 bury ing 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 val ue 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 ri- h spoil ; how was it to be secured into the legitimate hands of the law ? for as to merely entrapping the delin quent that would be feeding the gallows : but en trapping the booty that would be enriching the judge ; and such, according to his creed, was the THE MOORS LEGACY. 167 great end ot justice. So thinking, he summoned to his presence his trustiest alguazil ; a gaunt, hungry- looking varlet, clad, according to the custom of his order, in the ancient Spanish garb a broad black beaver, turned up at the sides ; a quaint ruff, a small black cloak dangling from his shoulders ; rusty black under-clothes that set off his spare wiry form ; while in his hand he bore a slender white wand, the dread ed insignia of his office. Such was the legal blood hound 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 dwell ing, and brought both him and his donkey before the dispenser of justice. The Alcalde bent upon him one of his m ost ter rific 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 : every thing 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 th> 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 ; ren der 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 ap peared, and if there had, the Alcalde would have dis believed the whole kalendar. 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 jew els, which were the object of thy cupidity ? " " As I hope to be saved, your worship," replied 168 THE ALHAMB1U. the water-carrier, " he had nothing but a small box of sandal wood, which he bequeathed to me in re ward of 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 ? " " 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 treasures 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 con viction of a prisoner, justice, even in Spain, is apt to be impartial. The Alcalde, having recovered from his disappointment and found there was really no booty in the case, now listened dispassionately to the explanation of the water-carrier, which was corrob orated by the testimony of his wife. Being con vinced, 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 hu manity ; but he retained his donkey in payment of cost 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 to. led up the hill in the heat of a summer noon his usual good-humour forsook him. " Dog of an Al- THE MOORS LEGACY. 109 ralcle !" 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 remembrance of the beloved companion of his labours all the kind ness 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 think- est of thy old master ! I warrant me thou missest the water jars : poor beast ! " 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 hos pitality that had brought on him all these misfor tunes, and like a knowing woman, she took every occasion to throw her superior sagacity in his teeth. If ever her children lacked food, or needed a new garment, she would answer with a sneer, " Go to your father ; he s heir to king Chico of the Alham- bra. Ask him to help you out of the Moor s strong box." Was ever poor mortal more soundly punished, for hfiving 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 clay 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 . shelf with lid half open, as if laughing in mockery of his vexation. Seizing it up he dashed it with indigna tion on the floor. " Unlucky was the day that I ever set eyes on thee," he cried, "or sheltered thy rnaste 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. 170 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 na tive of Tangiers, who sold trinkets and perfumery 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 incantation for the recovery of hidden treasure, that is under the power of enchantment. It is said to have such virtue that the strongest 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 assembled at the place, and their conversation, as is not unusual at that shadowy hour, turned upon old tales and traditions of a su n-natural nature. Being all poor as rats, they d ,velt with peculiar 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 . iind of 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 ! " THE MOORS LEGACY. 171 Tn ihc sudden ecstasy of the thought he had well high 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. In the morning, 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 suc ceeds 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 pre pared, the ingredients of which are not within my reach. Without such 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 saying he hastened home, and soon returned with the end of a 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 ascend ed the woody hill of the Alhambra, 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 trem- 172 THE ALHAMBRA. bling 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 ilt. 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 penetrate further, the residue being shut up by sli ing enchantment. The air of this vault was clamp 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 odour of myrrh, and frankincense, and storax. 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 armour, 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 hands-full of broad yellow pieces of Moorish gold, or bracelets and ornaments of the same precious 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 fear- it glance at the two enchanted Moors, who sat grim and motionless, glaring upon them with un- THE MOORS LEGACY. 173 winking eyes. At length, struck with a sudden panic at some fancied noise, they both rushed up the stair case, tumbled over one another into the upper apart ment, overturned and extinguished the waxen taper, and the pavement again closed with a thundering 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 divided 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 whispered a word of counsel in the sar 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 conveyed it out of harm s way. If a whisper of it gets to the ear of the Alcalde we are uudone ! " " Certainly ! " replied the Gallego ; " nothing can be more true." " Friend Peregil," said the Moor, " you are a dis creet 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 ? Certainly not such a one as Peregil the water-car- 174 THE ALHAMBRA. rier, 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 housemate." 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 hus band a do-no-good that no longer brings home bread for his family, but goes rambling about, day and night, with infidel Moors. Oh, 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 pieces 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 ? Surely thou hast not been committing 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 dangling pendant from it ; and, overcome by the horrors conjured up by her imagination, fell into violent hysterics. What could the poor man do ? He had no other THE MOOR S LEGACY. 175 nuans ol pacifying 1 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 1 " exclaimed the little man with honest exulta tion, what say you now to the Moor s legacy? Henceforth never abuse r.ie pr helping a fellovi creature in distress." The honest Gallego retired to his sheepskin 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 all night counting gold pieces of Arabic coin, trying on necklaces and ear-rings, 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 jewel ler s shop in the Zacatin to offer it for sale ; pretend ing to have found it among the ruins of the Alharn- bra. The jeweller saw that it had an Arabic inscription and was of the purest gold ; he offered, however, 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 mys tery and a heart swelling almost to bursting, yet she held her peace, though surrounded by her gossips. 170 THE ALHAMEEA. 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 oft his trade of water-carrying, as it did not altogether agree with his health. In fact she thought they should all retire 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 neighbours 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, Moorisn bracelets on her arms ; 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 piece of 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 barber, was at this moment sitting idly in his shop on the opposite side of the street, when his ever watchful eye caught the sparkle of a diamond. In an instant he was nt his loop-hole, reconnoitring the slattern spouse of the water-carrier, decorated with the splendour 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 unfortunate THE MOORS LEGACY. < 177 Peregil was again 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 nothing 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 gallcws 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 treasure. The alguazil was despatched to bring the Moor who had assisted in the incantation. The Moslem entered half frightened out of his wits at finding himself in the hands of the harpies of the law. When he beheld the water-carrier standing with sheepish look and downcast countenance, he comprehended the whole matter. " Miserable ani mal," said he, as he passed near him, "did I not warn thee against Dabbling to thy wife? " The story of -the Moor coincided exactly with that of his colleague ; but the Alcalde afifected to be slow of belief, and threw out menaces of imprisonment and rigorous investigation. " Softly, good Senor Alcalde," said the Mussul man, who by this time had recovered his usual shrewdness and self-possession. " Let us not mar fortune s favours in the scramble for them. Nobody knows any thing 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 ; refuse, and the cave shall remain lor ever closed. 1 The Alcalde consumed apart with the alguazil. 178 THE ALHAMBRA. The latter was an old iox in his profession. " Prom ise any thing," 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 faggot and the stake as in fidels 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 mean time 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 se cretly, 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, disclosing the narrow flight of steps. The Alcalde, the alguazil, and the barber were struck aghast, and could not summon courage 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 THE MOORS LEGACY. 170 bore them up one by one upon his shoulders, but though a strong-backed little man, and accustomed to carry burdens, he staggered beneath their weight, and fouiid, 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 ail wealthy to our heart s desire." " Is there more treasure remaining thind ? " de manded the Alcalde. "The greatest prize of all," said tie Moor ; "a huge coffer, bound with bands 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, dog gedly. " Enough is enough for a reasonable man ; more is superfluous." "And I," said the water-carrier, "will bring up no further burthen 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 con tents shall be divided between us." So saying he descended the steps, followed, with trembling re luctance, by the alguazil and the barber. No sooner did the Moor behold them fairly earthed than he extinguished the yellow taper: the pave ment closed with its usual crash, and the three worthies remained buried in its womb. He then hastened up the different flights of steps, nor stopped until in the open air. The little water- carrier followed him as fast as his short legs would permit. "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 ! " 180 THE ALHAMI3RA. " It is the will of Allah ! " said the Moor, de voutly. "And will you not release them ? " demanded the Gal lego. " Allah forbid ! " replied the Moor, smoothing his beard. " It is written in the book of fate that they shall remain enchanted until some future adventurer shall come 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- labourer, 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, excepting 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 fold four times the size, with which the latter was eartily 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 into Africa, to his native city of Tetuan, 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 consequence, for she made Ihe 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 the familiar appellation of Peregil, assume the more sonorous THE MOORS LEGACY. 181 title of Don Pedro Gil. His progeny grew up a thriving and merry-hearted, though short and bandy legged generation ; while the Senora Gil, be-fringed, be-laced, and be-tasselled 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 re- mained shut up under the great tower of the Seven Floors, and there they remain spell-bound 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 deliver ance, there is danger/Of their enchantment enduring until doomsday. 7/ VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA. IT is now nearly three months since I took up my abode in the Alhambra, during which time the progress of the season has wrought many changes. When I first arrived every thing was in the freshness of May ; the foliage of the trees was still tender and transparent; the pomegran ate had not yet shed its brilliant crimson blos soms ; the orchards 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. The advance of summer has withered the rose and silenced the nightingale, and the distant coun try begins to look parched and sunburnt ; though a "perennial verdure reigns immediately 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 subterranean apartment of the baths. This still retains its ancient oriental 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 and graceful in archi tecture. It is overlooked by a small gallery sup- VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 183 ported by marble pillars and moresco arches. An alabaster fountain 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 platforms, where the bathers after their ablutions reclined on luxuri ous cushions, 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 in terior chambers, still more private and retired, where no light is admitted but through small aper tures in the vaulted ceilings. Here was the sanc tum sanctorum of female privacy, where the beauties of the harem indulged in the luxury of the baths. A soft mysterious light reigns through the place, the broken baths are still there, and traces of ancient elegance. The prevailing silence and obscurity have made this a favourite resort of bats, who nestle during the day in the dark nooks and corners, and, on being disturbed, flit mysteriously about the twilight cham bers, heightening in an indescribable degree their air of desertion and decay. In this cool and elegant though dilapidated re treat, which has the freshness and seclusion of a grotto, I have of late passed the sultry hours of the day; emerging toward sunset, and bathing, or rather swimming, at night in the great reservoir of the main court. In this way I have been enabled in a measure to counteract the relaxing and enervating in .-.uence of the climate. My dream of absolute sovereignty, however, is at an end : I was roused from it lately by the report of fire-arms, which reverberated among the towers .is il the castle had been taken by surprise. On sall\ ing forth I found an old cavalier 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 Al- 384 THE ALHAMBRA hambra for the benefit of purer air, and who, being a veteran and inveterate sportsman, was endeavour ing 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 swallow. Nay, the birds them selves seemed to enjoy the sport, and to deride his want of skill, skimming in circles close to the balconies, and twittering as they darted by. The arrival of this old gentleman has in some measure changed the aspect of affairs, but has like wise afforded matter for agreeable speculation. We have tacitly shared the empire between us, like the last kings of Granada, excepting that we main tain a most amicable alliance. He reigns absolute over the Court of the Lions and its adjacent halls, while I maintain peaceful possession of the region of the baths and the little garden of Lindaraxa. We take our meals together under the arcades of the court, where the fountains cool the air, and bub bling rills run along the channels of the marble pavement. i In the evening, a domestic circle gathers about the worthy old cavalier. The countess comes up from the city, with a favourite daughter about sixteen years of age. Then there are the official de pendents of the Count, his chaplain, his lawyer, his secretary, his steward, and other officers and agents of his extensive possessions. Thus he holds a kind of domestic court, where every person seeks to con tribute to his amusement, without sacrificing his own pleasure or self-respect. In fact, whatever may be said of Spanish pride? it certainly does not enter into social or domestic life. Among no people are the relations between kindred more cordial, or be tween superior and dependent more Irunk and ge- VISITORS TO THE ALHAMBRA. 185 nial ; in these respects there still remains, in the provincial life of Spain, much of the vaunted simpli city of the olden times. The most interesting member of this family group, however, is the daughter of the Count, the charm ing though almost infantile little Carmen. Her form has not yet attained its maturity, but has al ready the exquisite symmetry and pliant grace so prevalent in this country. Her blue eyes, fair com plexion, and light hair are unusual in Andalusia, and give a mildness and gentleness to her demeanour, in contrast to the usual fire of Spanish beauty, but in perfect unison with the guileless and confiding inno cence of her manners. She has, however, all the innate aptness and versatility of her fascinating country-women, and sings, dances, and plays the guitar and other instruments to admiration. A few days after taking up his residence in the Alhambra, the Count gave a domestic fete on his saint s day, assembling round him the members of his family and household, while several old servants came from his distant possessions to pay their reverence to him, and partake of the good cheer. This patriarchal spirit which characterized the Spanish nobility in the days of their opulence has declined with their fortunes ; but some who, like the Count, still retain their ancient family possessions, keep up a little of the ancient system, and have their estates overrun and almost eaten up by generations of idle retainers. xN According to this magnificent old Spanish system, in which the national pride and generosity bore equal parts, a superannuated serv ant was never turned off, but became a charge for the rest of his days ; nay, his children, and his chil dren s children, and often their relations, to the right and left, became gradually entailed upon the family. 1 Icnce the huge palaces of the Spanish nobility, which have such an air of empty ostentation from 186 THE ALUAMBRA. the greatness of their size compared with the medi ocrity and scantiness of their furniture, were abso lutely required in the golden days of Spain by the patriarchal habits of their possessors. They were little better than vast barracks for the hereditary generations of hangers-on that battened at the ex pense of a Spanish noble. The worthy Count, who nas estates in various parts of the kingdom, assures me that some of them barely feed the hordes of de pendents nestled upon them ; who consider them selves entitled to be maintained upon the place, rent free, because their forefathers have been so for gen erations. The domestic fete of the Count broke in upon the usual still life of the Alhambra. Music and laugh ter resounded through its late silent halls; there were groups of the guests amusing themselves about the galleries and gardens, and officious servants from town hurrying through the courts, bearing viands to the ancient kitchen, which was again alive with the tread of cooks and scullions, and blazed with un wonted fires. The feast, for a Spanish set dinner is literally a feast, was laid in the beautiful moresco hall called "la sala de las dos Hermanas," (the saloon of the two sisters ; ) the table groaned with abundance, and a joyous conviviality prevailed round the board }. v for though the Spaniards are generally an abstemious people, they are complete revellers at a banquet, v For my own part, there was something peculiarly interesting in thus sitting at a feast, in the royal halls of the Alhambra, given by the representative of one of its most renowned conquerors ; for the venerable Count, though unwarlike himself, is the lineal de scendant and representative of the " Great Captain," the illustrious Gonsalvo of Cordova, whose sword he guards in the archives of his palace at Granada. VISITORS TO THE ALIIAMBRAi 187 The banquet ended, the company adjourned to the hall of ambassadors. Here every one contributed to the general amusement by exerting some peculiar talent ; singing, improvising, telling wonderful tales, or dancing to that all-pervading talisman of Spanish pleasure, the guitar. The life and charm of the whole assemblage, how ever, was the gifted little Carmen. She took her part in two or three scenes from Spanish comedies, exhibiting a charming dramatic talent ; she gave imitations of the popular Italian singers, with singu lar and whimsical felicity, and a rare quality of voice ; she imitated the dialects, dances, and bal lads of the gipsies and the neighbouring peasantry, but did every thing with a facility, a neatness, a grace, and an all-pervading prettiness, that were perfectly fascinating. The great charm of her per formances, however, was their being free from all pretension or ambition of display. She seemed un conscious of the extent of her own talents, and in fact is accustomed only to exert them casually, like a child, for the amusement of the domestic circle. Her observation and tact must be remarkably quick, for her life is passed in the bosom of her family, and she can only have had casual and transient glances at the various characters and traits, brought out im promptu in moments of domestic hilarity, like the one in question. It is pleasing to see the fondness and admiration with which every one of the house hold regards her : she is never spoken of, even by the domestics, by any other appellation than that of La Nina, " the child," an appellation which thus applied has something peculiarly kind and endearing in the Spanish language. Never shall I think of the Alhambra without re membering the lovely little Carmen sporting in happy and innocent girlhood in its marble halls; dancing to the sound of the Moorish castanets, or mingling the 188 THE ALHAMBLA. silver warbling of her voice with the music of the fountains. On this festive occasion several curious and amus ing legends and traditions were told ; many of which have escaped my memory ; but of those that most struck me, I will endeavour to shape forth some en tertainment for the reader. LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL; Or The Pilgrim of Love." THERE was once a Moorish King of Granada who had but one son, whom he named Ahmed, to which hMfccourtiers added the surname of al Kamel, or the perfect, from the indubitable signs of super-excel lence which they perceived in him in his very infancy. The astrologers countenanced them in their fore sight, predicting every thing in his favour 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 tender passion. If, however, he could be kept from the allurements 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 a 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 Generaliffe. In this palace the youthful prince was shut up and en trusted to the guardianship and instruction of Ebon Bonabbon, 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 190 THE ALIIAMBRA. among the tombs and pyramids, and who saw more charms in an Egyptian 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 is to be kept utterly ignorant of love " use every precaution for the purpose you may think proper," said the king, "but remember, oh Ebon Bonabbon, 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 Bonabbon at the menace. " Let your majesty s heart be as easy about yorr son as mine is about my head. Am I a man likely to give lessons in the idle passion ? " 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. Hia mental endowments were the peculiar care of Ebon Bonabbon, who sought to initiate him into the ar> struseMore 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 Ermce ; ready to follow any advice and always guided y the last councillor. He suppressed his yawns, and listened patiently to the long and learned dis courses of Ebon Bonabbon, 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 fountains. He had been taught a little music among his various accom plishments ; it now engrossed a great ^"* THE P1LOU1M OF LO VE. 191 i ime, and a turn for poetry became apparent. The sage Kbon Bonabbon took the alarm, and endeavoured to work these idle humours out of him by a severe course of algebra ; but the prince turned from it-with distaste. " I cannot endure algebra," said he ; " it is an abomination to me. I want something that speaks more to the heart." The sage Ebon Bonabbon shook his dry head at the words. " Here s 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 activ ity, and only wanted an object. He wandered about the gardens of the Generaliffe in an intoxication of feelings of which he knew not the cause. Sometimes he would sit plunged in a delicious reverie ; 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 inanimate objects; he had his favourite 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. The sage Ebon Bonabbon was alarmed at this ex cited state of Jiis 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 Generalise. It contained beautiful apartments, and commanded an almost boundless prospect, but v. r as eievp.ted far above that atmosphere of sweets and 192 those witching of the too susci What was tc to this, restraini ana to Deguiie the tedious hours f He had exhausted almost all kinds of agreeable knowledge ; and algebra was not to be mentioned. Fortunately Ebon Bonabbon had been instructed, when in Egypt, in the languag-e 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 Generaliffe was no longer a soli tude ; 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, from whence he soared far &T.d 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 large 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 astrology and the moon, and hinted at the dark sciences, but he was grievously given to metaphysics, and the prince found his prosings were more ponderous than those of the sage Ebon Bonabbon. Then there was a bat, that hung all day by his heels in the dark corner of a vault, but sallied out in a slip-shod style at twilight. He, however, had but twilight ideas on all subjects, derided things of which he had taken but an imperfect view, and seemed to take delight in nothing. THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 193 Beside these there was a swallow, witft whom tne prince was at first much taken. He was a smart talker, but restless, bustling, and for ever on the wing; seldom remaining long enough for any con tinued conversation. He turned out in the end to be a mere smatterer, who did but skim over the sur face of things, pretending to know every thing, 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 frequent it. He soon grew weary of his new acquaintances, whose conver sation spake 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 breathing 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 Generaliffe, and reached the prince in the solitude of his tower. From every side he heard the same universal theme love love love chaunted 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? " 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 righting my delight. In a word, 1 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 114 TH& ALHAMBEA. what was this love about which all the birds in the groves below were singing. Upon this the -owl put on a^Iook <5T offended dig nity. " My nights," said he, " are taken up in study and research, and my days in ruminating in my ceV upon all that I have learnt. As to these singing birds of whom you talk, 1 never listen to them. I, despise them and their themes. Allah be praised, I cannot sing. In a word, 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 pio- pounded the same question. The bat wrinkled up his nose into a most snappish expression. " Why do you disturb me in my morning s nap with such an idie 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 noi beast, and I thank heaven for it. I have found out the villainy of the whole of them, and hate them, one and all. In a word, I am a misanthrope, and know nothing of this thing called love." As a last resort, the prince now sought the swal low, 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 subject. I have every clay 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 diili- THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 195 culty of gratifying it. While in this mood his ancient guardian entered the tower. The prince advanced eagerly to meet him. " Oh sage Ebon Bonabbon," 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 in formed." " My prince has but to make the inquiry, and every thing within the limited range of his servant s intellect is at his command." " Tell me then, oh most profound of sages, what is the nature of this thing called love ? " The sage Ebon Bonabbon 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, oh Ebon Lonabbon ! " 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 arose a strain of melody, and love love love, was still the unvary ing theme. "Allah Achbar ! God is great ! " ex claimed the wise Bonabbon. " Who shall pretend to keep this secret from the hearts of men when even the birds of the air conspire to betray it ? " Then turning to Ahmed, " Oh 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 bit- ternesb of 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 joys of youth, and brings on the ills and griefs of 196 Till premature old age. i _ , .. v ^...ce, in total ignorance of this thing called love ! " The sage Ebon Bonabbon 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 uppermost in his thoughts, ?,nd 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 : every thing seems tenderness and joy. If love be a cause of such wretchedness and strife, why are not these birds drooping in solitude, or tear ing each other in pieces, instead of fluttering cheer fully about the groves, or sporting with each other among the flowers? " He lay one morning on his couch meditating on this inexplicable matter. The window of his cham ber 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 pur suer, 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 ? " said Ahmed. " Hast thou not every thing thy heart can wish ? " "Alas, no ! " replied the dove, " am I not sepa rated from the partner of my heart and that too in the happy spring-time the very season of love ? " THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 197 " 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 ot one, the felicity of two, the strife and enmity of three.? It is a charm which draws two beings to gether, and unites them by delicious sympathies, making it happiness to be with each other, nut mis ery to be apart. Is there no being to whom you are drawn by these ties of tender affection ? " " I like my old teacher, Ebon Bonabbon, better than any other being ; but he is often tedious, and I occasionally feel myself happier without his society." " That is not the sympathy I mean. I speak of love, the great mystery and principle of life ; the in toxicating revel of youth ; the sober delight of age Look forth, my prince, and behold how at this blest season all nature is full of love. Every created being has its mate ; the most insignificant bird singes to its paramour ; the very beetle woos its lady beetle in the dust, and yon butterflies which you see flutterh-g high above the tower and toying in the air are happy in. each other s love. Alas, my prince ! hast thou spent so many of the precious days of youth without knowing any thing of love ! Is there no geni e be ing of another sex ; no beautiful princess, or lovely damsel who has ensnared your heart, and filled your bosom with a soft tumult of pleasing pains and ten der wishes ? " " I begin to understand ! " said the prince sigh ing. " Such a tumult I have more than once experi enced without knowing the cause ; and where should I seek for an object such as you describe in this dis mal 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 de light, and its interruption such a misery, Allah for bid that I should mar the joy of any of its votaries." 198 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 ot 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 ? " 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. His eyes flashed fire when next he beheld the sage Bonabbon. "Why hast thou kept me in this abject ignorance f" cried he. "Why has the great mys tery and principle of life been withheld from me, in xviuch I find the meanest insect is so learned ? Be- nold all nature is in a revel of delight. Every cre ated being rejoices with its mate. This this is the love about which I have sought instruction ; why am I alone debarred its enjoyment ? why has so much OT my youth been wasted without a knowledge of its rapture ? " The sage Bonabbon saw that all further reserve was useless, for the prince had acquired the danger ous and forbidden knowledge. 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 pas sion 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 nothing pleaded against them. THE PILGRIM OP LOVE. 199 Beside, he really was attached to the sage Bonab- bon, 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 en danger the head of the philosopher. His discre tion was doomed, however, to be put to still further proofs. A few mornings afterwards, as he was ru minating 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 breast. " 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 ; from whence I bring you tidings in reward for my liberty. In the wide 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 meandering 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 as a spark of fire to the com bustible heart of Ahmed ; all the latent amorousness ol his temperament had at once found an object, and 200 THE ALHAMBRA. he conceived an immeasurable passion for the prin cess. He wrote a letter couched in the most im passioned language, breathing his fervent devotion, but the unhappy thraldom of his person, which pre- \ented him from seeking her out, and throwing him- Silf 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 mountain, and valley, and river, and plain ; rest not in bower nor set foot on earth, until thou hast given this letter to the mistress of my heart." The dove soared high in air, and luKing his coursa darted away in one undeviating direction. The prince followed him 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 forgetfulness, 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 hei years. It was, doubtless, the unknown beauty of the garden : but who an:l where was she how had she v eceived his letter and was this picture sent as a token of an approval of his passion ? Unfortunately, the death of the faithful dove left every thing in mystery and doubt. THE PILGRIM OF LO VE. 201 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 contemplating it in an almost 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. Vaii 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 ? Who knows what mountains, what realms may separate us? What adverse chances may intervene ? 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 be come an odious prison, and, a pilgrim of love, will seek this unknown princess throughout the world." To escape from the tower in the day, when every one was awake, might be a difficult matter ; but at night 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 cap tivity. How was he to guide himself, however, 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, O 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 fortress of the plains, or an old citadel of a city but has some g:2 THE ALHAMBRA. brother, or uncle, or cousin quartered in it ; and in going the rounds to visit these my numerous kindred I have pryed into every nook and corner, and made myself acquainted with every secret of the land." The prince was overjoyed to find the owl so deep ly versed in topography, and now informed him, in confidence, of his tender passion and his intended elopement, urging him to be his companion 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 medita tion 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 sufficient 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. I shall one day be a sovereign prince, and may advance thee to some post of hon our and dignity." The owl, though a philosopher and above the ordinary wants of life, was not above ambition, fio he was finally prevailed upon to elope with the prince, and be his guide and Mentor in his pil grimage. 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 Generaiiffe, and guided by the owl, made good his escape before morning to the mountains. THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 203 He now held a council with his Mentor as to his future course. " Might I advise," said the owl, " I would recom mend 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 became 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, O prince, to seek that raven, for he is a soothsayer and a conjuror, 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 accom modate his companion, and lay by during the day in some dark cavern or mouldering watch-tower, for the owl knew every hiding hole of the kind in the country, and had a most antiquarian taste for ruins. At length, one morning at day-break 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 known at the present day a$ the Giralda. the famous Moorish tower of Seville. 204 THE ALHAMBRA. The prince ascended by a great winding stairqase 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, and poring with his remaining eye on a diagram described on the pavement. The prince approached him with the awe and reverence naturally inspired by his venerable ap pearance and supernatural wisdom. " 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 counsel how to obtain the object of his passion." " In other words," said the raven with a signifi cant 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,"! 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 am orous Andalusia," said the old raven, leering upon trim wiLi his single eye. " Above all, can you be at a loss in wanton Seville, 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. Believe me," said he gravely, " I am on none such light and vagrant errand as thou dost insinuate. The black-eyed damsels of Andalusia who dance among the orange groves of the Guadal- quiver, are .as naught to me. I seek one unknown but immaculate beauty, the original of this picture, THE PIL GRIM OF LOVE. 205 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 grav ity of the prince. " What know I," replied he dryly, " of youth and beauty ? My visits are to the old and withered, not the young 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 window. You must seek elsewhere for tidings of your unknown beauty." " And where am I to seek, if not among the sons of wisdom, versed in the book of destiny ? A royal prince am I, fated by the stars and sent on a myste rious 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 manner, and listened with profound at tention to the story of the prince. When 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 prin cipal mosque ; at the foot of it you will find a great traveller, who has visited all countries and courts, and been a favourite with queens and princesses. He will give you tidings of the object of your search." " Many thanks for this precious information " said the prince. "Farewell, most venerable conjuror." " 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 traveller the owl, who was still dozing in the hollow tree, and set off for Cordova. He approached it along hanging gardens, and or ange and citron groves overlooking the fair valley of 206 THE ALHAMBRA. the Guadalquiver. When arrived at its gates the owl flew up to a dark hole in the wall, and the piince 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 pnlm-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 mingled 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 topknot, 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 de lighted with the garrulity of a chattering bird ? " "You know not of whom you speak," said the other ; " this parrot is a descendant of the famous parrot of Persia, renowned for his story-telling tal ent. 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 favourite 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 mention ed it when the parrot burst into a fit of dry rickety laughter, that absolutely brought tears in his eyes. THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 207 Excuse my mirth," said he, " but the mere mention of love always sets me laughing." The prince was shocked at this ill-timed merri ment "Is not love," said he, "the great mystery of nature, the secret principle of life, the universal bond of sympathy ? " "A fig s end !" cried the parrot, interrupting him. " Fry thee where hast them learnt this senti mental 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 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. "Teil me," said he, "most accomplished parrot, thou who hast every where been admitted to the most secret bowers of beauty, hast thou in the course of thy travels met with the original of this 1 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 honour," said he, "a very pretty face ; very pretty. But then one sees so m my 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 ;ould I forget one that is so prodigious a favourite with me? " " The princess Aldegonda ! " echoed the prince, and where is she to be found ? " "Softly softly," said the parrot, "easier to be iound than gained. She is the only daughter of the Christian king who reigns at Toledo, and is shut up 208 THE ALHAMBEA. from the world until her seventeenth birth-day, on account of some prediction of those meddlesome 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 *he word of a parrot who has seen the world, 1 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 wo J. Help me to gain possession of this princess anc I will advance you to some distinguished post about court" " With all my heart," said the parrot; "but let it be a sinecure if possible, for we wits have a great dislike to labour." 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 sgavant, and away they set off on their journey. They travelled much more slowly than accorded with the impatience 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 anti quarian 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, could delight in each other s society, but never had he been more mistaken. They were eternally bick ering. The one was a wit, the other a philosopher. The parrot quoted poetry, was critical on new read ings, and eloquent on small points of erudition ; the THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 209 owl treated all such knowledge as trifling 1 , and relished nothing but metaphysics. Then the parrot would sing songs and repeat bon mots, and crack jokes upon his solemn neighbour, and laugh out rageously at his own wit ; all which the owl con sidered a grievous invasion of his dignity, and would scowl, and sulk, and swell, and sit 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 contemplation of the portrait of the beautiful princess. In this way they journeyed through the stern passes of the Sierra Morena, 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 promon tory, 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 antiquarian rapture, "what have we to do with anti quities, and legends, and your ancestors? Behold, what is more to the purpose, behold the abode of youth and beauty, behold, at length, oh 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 delicious garden. It was just such a place as had been described by the dove as the residence of the original of the picture. 310 THE ALHAMBRA. He g az ed at it with a throbbing- heart : " Perhaps at this moment," thought he, "the beautiful prin cess is sporting beneath those shady bovvers, 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. " Oh 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 topknot, the parrot perched himself beside 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 bowing before her : " Alas ! what so;ace 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 ambas sador from a royal prince. Know that Ahmed, the THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 211 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 coro net. "O sweetest of parrots," cried she, "joyful indeed are thy tidings ; for I was faint, and weary, and sick almost unto death, with doubt of the con stancy 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 birth-day, 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 favoured mortals, who have had the good fortune to realize day dreams, and turn shadows 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 seven teenth birth-day, 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 alliance, and her father, who was a king of wondrous shrewdness, to avoid making enemies by showing partiality, had 213 THE ALHAMBRA. referred them to the arbitrament of arms. Among the rival candidates, were several renowned for strength and prowess. What a predicament for the unfortunate Ahmed, unorovided as he was vvith weapons, and unskilled in the exercises 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 algeora and philos ophy in affairs of love ! alas, Ebon Bonabbon, why hast thou neglected to instruct me in the manage ment of arms ? " Upon this the owl broke silence prefacing his harangue with a pious ejaculation, for he was a devout Mussulman : " Allah Achbar ! God is great/ " exclaimed he , " in his hands are all secret things, he alone governs the destiny of princes ! Know, O 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- neighbouring mountains there is a cave, and in that cave there is an iron table, and on that table lies a suit of magic armour and beside that table stands a spell-bound steed, which have been shut up there for many genera tions." 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 so journed 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 armour be longed to a Moorish magician, who took refuge in. this cavern when Toledo was captured by the Chris tians, and died here, leaving his steed and weapons under a mystic spell, never to be used but by a Mos lem,, and by him only from sunrise to mid-day. In THE PILGRIM OF LO VE. 213 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 rose around Toledo ; none but the mousing eye of an owl or an antiquary could have discovered the entrance to it. A sepul chral lamp of everlasting oil, shed a solemn light through the place. On an iron table in the centre of the cavern lay the magic armour, against it leaned the lance, and beside it stood an Arabian steed, caparisoned for the field, but motionless as a statue. The armour was bright and unsullied, as it had gleamed in days of old ; the steed in as good condi tion 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 provided with horse to ride and weapon to wear, the prince determined to defy the field at 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. Here were erected stages and galleries for the spectators, cov ered 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 es quires, 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 loveli ness ; and the princes who were candidates for her 214 THE ALHAMBRA. )iand- merely on the faith of her reported charms, now felt ten-fold ardour for the conflict. The princess, however, had a troubled look. The colour 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 a herald announced the arrival of a stranger knight, and Ahmed rode into the field. A steeled helmet studded with gems rose above his turban ; his cui rass was embossed with gold; his scimitar and dagger were of the workmanship of Fay, and flamed with precious stones. A round shield was at his shoulder, and in his hand he bore the lance of charmed virtue. The caparison of his Arabian was richly embroidered, and swept the ground ; and the proud animal pranced and snuffed the air, and neighed with joy at once more beholding the array of arms. The lofty and graceful demeanour 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, how ever, they were closed against him ; none but princes, he was told, were admitted to the contest. He de clared 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 demeanour and Herculean frame sneered at his light and youth ful form, and scoffed at his amorous appellation. The ire of the prince was roused ; he defied his rival to the encounter. They took distance, wheeled, and charged ; 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 THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 215 deal with a demoniac horse and armour : once in action, nothing could control them. The Arabian steed charged into the thickest of the throng : the lance overturned every thing 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 sub jects and his guests. He ordered out all his guards they were unhorsed 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 steed 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 plain, leaped the barrier, plunged into the Tagus, swam its raging current, core the prince, breathless and amazed, to the cav ern, and resumed his station like a statue beside the iron table. The prince dismounted right gladly, and replaced the armour, to abide the further de crees of fate. Then seating himself in the cavern, he ruminated on the desperate state to which this bedeviled steed and armour had reduced him. Never should he dare to show his face at Toledo, after in flicting 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? 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 re turned with a world of gossip. All Toledo was in consternation. The princess had been borne off sense- 216 THE ALHAMBRA. less to the palace ; the tournament had ended in con fusion ; every one was talking of the su Men appari tion, prodigious 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 ; whi ft others re lated traditions of enchanted warriors hidden in the caves of the mountains, and thought it might be one of these, who had made a sudden irruption from his den. All agreed that no mere ordinary mortal could have wrought such wonders, or unhorsed such accomplished and stalwart Christian warriors. The owl flew forth at night, and hovered about the dusky city, perching on the roofs and chimneys. He then wheeled his flight up to the loyal palace, which stood on the rocky summit of Toledo, and went prowling about its terraces and battlements, eaves-dropping at every cranny, and glaring in with his big goggling eyes at every window where there was a light, so as to throw two or three maids of honour into fits. It was not until the gray dawn began to peer above the mountains that he returned from his mousing expedition, and related to the prince what he had seen. " As I was prying about one of the loftiest towers of the palace," said he, "I beheld through a case ment 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 1 am, I could not but be greatly moved." The tender heart of Ahmed was distressed at these tidings. " Too true were thy words, oh sage Ebon Bonabbon ! " 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." THE PILGRIM OF LO VE. 217 Further intelligence from Toledo corroborated the report of the owl. The city was a prey to uneasi ness and alarm. The princess was conveyed to the highest tower of the palace, every avenue to which was strongly guarded. In the mean time, a devour ing 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, declar ing that whoever should effect her cure, should receive the richest jewel in the royal treasury. When the owl, who was dozing in a comer, heard of this proclamation, he rolled his large eyes and looked more mysterious than ever. "Allah Achbar!" 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, O 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 antiquarian owls, who hold their meetings in a great vaulted tower where the royal treasure is deposited. Here they were discussing the forms and inscriptions, and de signs of ancient gems and jewels, and of golden and silver vessels, heaped up in the treasury, the fashion of every country and c.^e : but mostly they were in terested about certain reliques and talismans, that have remained in the treasury since the time of Roderick the Goth. Among these, was a box of shittim wood, secured by bands of steel of oriental workmanship, and inscribed with mystic characters known only to the learned few. This box and its 218 THE ALHAMBRA. inscription had occupied the college for several ses sions, 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 inscription, and 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 Ebon Bonabbon, of the wonderful properties of that talisman, which disappeared at the fall of Jeru salem; and was supposed to be lost to mankind. Doubtless it remains a sealed mystery to the Chris tians of Toledo. If I can get possession of that carpet, my fortune is secure." The next clay 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, announced himself as a candidate for the reward offered for the cure of the princess. The guards would have driven him away with 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. Those solitudes, it is weil known, are the THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 219 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 countercharm is music ; and we have legendary airs handed down from generation to generation, 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 sur rounding country. The windows were darkened, for the princess lay within, a prey to a devouring grief that refused all alleviation. The prince seated himself on the terrace, and per formed several wild Arabian airs on his pastoral pipe, which he had learnt from his attendants in the Generaliffe at Granada. The princess continued in sensible, and the doctors, who were present, shook their heads, and smiled with incredibility and con tempt. 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 her heart ; she raised her head and lis tened ; 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 220 THE ALHAMBKA. his command Ahmed was conducted into the cham ber. The lovers were discreet : 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 f reshness to her lip, and the dewy light to her lan guishing eye. All the physicians present stared at each other with astonishment. Tne king regarded the Arab minstrel with admiration, mixt with awe. " Won derful youth," exclaimed he, " thou shalt henceforth be the first physician of my court, and no other pre scription will I take but thy melody. For the pres ent, receive thy reward, the most precious jewel in my treasury." " O king," replied Ahmed, " I care not for silver, or gold, or precious stones. One relique hast thou in thy treasury, handed down from the Moslems who once owned Toledo. A box of sandal wood contain ing 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 be ing placed beneath the feet of beauty." So saying, he spread it on the terrace beneath an ottoman that had been brought forth for the prin cess ; then seating himself at her feet, " Who," said he, " shall counteract what is writ ten in the book of fate? Behold the prediction of the astrologers verified. Know, oh king, that your THE PILGRIM OF LOVE. 221 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 straining eyes, until it be came a little speck on the white bonom 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 ! sire, 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 restitution of his daughter. The king himself came forth with all his court to meet him. In the king, he beheld the Arab minstrel, for Ah med had succeeded to the throne on the death of his father, and the beautiful Aldegonda was bis 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 suc cession of feasts and rejoicings ; after which, the king returned well pleased to Toledo, and the youthful couple continued 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 travelling by night, and stop ping at the various hereditary possessions of his family ; the latter figuring in the gay circles of every town and city on his route. 223 THE ALHAMBRA Ahmed gratefully requited the services which they had rendered him on his pilgrimage. He appointed the owl his prime minister ; the parrot his master of ceremonies. It is needless to say, that never was a realm more sagely administered, or a court con ducted with more exact punctilio. LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA; "Or the Page and the Ger-Falcon." FOR some time after the surrender of Granada by the Moors, that delightful city was a frequent and favourite residence of the Spanish sovereigns, until they were frightened away by successive shocks of earthquakes, which toppled clown various houses and made the old Moslem towers rock to their founda tion. Many, many years then rolled away, during- which Granada was rarely honoured by a royal guest. The palaces of the nobility 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 desolation ; and the spider spun her web athwart the gilded vault, and bats and owls nestled in those chambers that had been graced by the pres ence of Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda. The ne glect of the tower may partly have been owing to some superstitious notions of the neighbours. It was rumoured that the spirit of the youthful Zora hayda, 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 \v;i\f.ircrs passing along the glen. 224 THE ALHAMBRA. At length, the city of Granada was once more en livened 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 mar ried, in second nuptials, Elizabetta or Isabella, (for they are the same,) the beautiful princess of Parma ; and all the world knows, that by this chain of con tingencies, a French prince and an Italian princess were seated together on the Spanish throne. For the reception 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 place. The clangour of drum and trumpet, th tramp of steed about the avenues and outer court, the glittei of arms and dis play of banners about barbican and battlement, re called the ancient and walike glories of the fortress. A softer spirit, however, reigned within the royal palace. There was the rustling of robes, and the cau tious trend and murmuring voice of reverential courtiers about the antechambers; a loitering of pages and maids of honour about the gardens, and the sound of music stealing from open casements. Among those who attended in the train of the monarchs, was a favourite page of the queen, named Ruyz de Alarcon. To say that he was a favourite 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 accomplish ments. He was just turned of eighteen, light and little of form, and graceful 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 Generalise, which overlook the grounds of the Alhambra. He had taken with THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 225 him for his amusement, a favourite ger-falcon of the queen. In the course of his rambles, seeing 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 fol lowed the truant bird with his eye in its capricious flight, until he saw it alight upon the battlements of a remote and lonely tower, in the outer wall of the Alhambra, built on the edge of a ravine that sepa rated the royal fortress from the grounds of the Generaliffe. It was, in fact, the " tower of the Prin cesses." The page descended into the ravine, and approach ed 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 en closed 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 surround ed with flowers. In the centre hung a gilt cage con taining a singing bird ; beneath it, on a chair, lay a tortoise-shell cat among reels of silk and other articles of female labour, and a guitar, decorated with ribands, 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, current in the Alham bra ; and the tortoise-shell cat might be some spell bound princess. He knocked gently at the door, a beautiful face 320 THE ALHAMBEA. peeped out from a little window above, but was in stantly withdrawn. He waited, expecting that the door would be opened ; but he waited in, vain : no footstep was fo 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 bloom ing damsel of fifteen. The page immediately doffed his plumed bonnet, and entreated in the most courteous accents to be permitted to ascend the tower in pursuit of his falcon. "I dare not open the door, Seiior," replied the little damsel, blushing ; " my aunt has forbidden it." " I do beseech you, fair maid ; it is the favourite falcon of the queen ; I dare not return to the palace without it." "Are you, then, one of the cavaliers of the court ? " " I am, fair maid ; but I shall lose the queen s favour and my place if I lose this hawk." " Santa Maria ! It is against you cavaliers of the court that my aunt has charged me especially to bar the door." " Against wicked cavaliers, doubtless ; but I am none of those, but a simple, harmless page, who will be ruined and undone if you deny me this small re quest." The heart of the little damsel was touched by the distress of the page. It was a thousand pities nt 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 entreatingly with cap in hand, and looked so charming. The sly p;ige saw that the garrison THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 227 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 warder 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 win dow, he was ravished by the full-length portrait now revealed to him. Her Andalusian bodice and trim basquina 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 nidour of a southern sun, but it served to give rich ness 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 acknowledgments, 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 mean time, 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, 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! Sefior ! " 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, as suring her it was the way, at court, of expressing the most profound homage and respect. 838 THE ALHAMBRA. Her anger, if anger she felt, was easily pacined ; 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 op posite camp, and would fain have profited by it, but the fine speeches he would have uttered died upon his lips ; his attempts at gallantry were awk ward and ineffectual; and, to his surprise, the adroit page who had figured with such grace and effrontery among the most knowing and ex perienced 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 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 ex press, and her heart was fluttered at beholding, for the first time, a lover at her feet and such a over ! 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, THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 229 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 gen tle 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 pursued 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 ter ror and distrust of what she denominated " the op posite 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 safeguard in her face, that forbade all trespass upon her premises ; but ladies who have least cause to fear for themselves, are most ready to keep a watch over their more tempting neighbours. 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 briar. Nor, indeed, is this comparison entirely accidental, for to tell the truth her fresh and dawn- ing 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 neigh bourhood had given her the appellation of " The Rose of the Alhambra." 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 230 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 moonlit 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 de scended the great avenue leading to the city. When the last banner disappeared from her sight, she re turned 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 gaily embroidered dress, at the feet of her niece. At the sound of her footsteps he g?ve a ttn- der adieu, 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 her self into her arms, she broke forth into sobs and tears, "Ay di mi ! " cried she, " he is gone ! he is gone ! and I shall never see him more." " Gone ! who is gone ! what youth is this I saw at your feet ? " "A queen s page, aunt, who came to bid me fare well." "A queen s page, child," echoed the vigilant Fre degonda faintly, " and when did you become ac quainted with a queen s page? " " The morning that the ger-falcon flew into the THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 231 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 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 inter^ course 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 machina tions 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 cau tious 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 banks, 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 fruit, the autumnal rains de scended in torrents from the mountains ; the Sierra Nevada became covered with a snowy mantle, and wintry blasts howled through the halls of the Al- hambra : still he came not. The winter passed away. Again the genial spring burst forth with song, and blossoms, and balmy zephyr ; the snows melted from the mountains, until none remained, but on the lofty summit of the Nevada, glistening through the sultry summer air: still nothing was heard of the forgetful page. In the mean time, the poor little Jacinta grew pale and thoughtful. Her former occupations and 232 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 lovelorn damsel, it would be such a place as the Alham- bra, where every thing seems disposed to produce tender and romantic 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 immacu late Freclegonda 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 descend ant 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 founta.n. It was here that 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 over laden 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 agi tated, 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 THE ROSE OF THE ALHAVBRA. ?33 ball, and did not venture to return. The next morning, she related what she had seen to her aunt, hut 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 think ing of the story of the three Moorish princesses that once inhabited the 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 prin cesses, Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda, who were confined in this tower by the king their father, and agreed to fly with three Christian cavaliers. The first two accomplished their escape, but the third failed in resolution and remained, 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 Zora hayda." Thou mayst well weep over her fate/ continued the aunt, " for the lover of Zorahayda was thy an cestor. He long bemoaned his Moorish love, but time cured him of his grief, and he married a Span ish 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 sprite of the gentle Zorahayda, which I have heard lingers about this tower, of what should I be afraid ? I ll watch by the fountain to-night, perhaps the visit will be repeated." Towards midnight, when every thing was quiet, she again took her seat in the hall. As the bell on 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 234 THE ALHAMBRA. jewels, and in her hand she held a silver lute. Jacinta trembled and was faint, but was reassured by the soft and plaintive voice ol the apparition, and the sweet expression of her pale melancholy counte nance. " Daughter of Mortality," said she, " what aileth thee? Why do thy tears trouble my fountain, and thy sighs and plaints disturb the quiet watches of the night ? " 44 1 weep because of the faithlessness of man ; and I bemoan my solitary and forsaken state." 44 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 enchanted in this tower, until some pure Christian will deign to break the magic spell. Wilt thou undertake the task? " 44 I will ! " replied the damsel, trembling. 44 Come hither, then, and fear not : dip thy hand in the fountain, sprinkle the water over me, and bap tize me alter the manner of thy faith; so shall the enchantment be dispelled, and my troubled spirit have repose." The damsel advanced >vith 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 diopped her silver lute at the feet of Jacinta, crossed her white arms upon 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, THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 235 but when she awoke at daybreak out of a troubled slumber, the whole appeared to her like a distem pered dream. On descending into the hall, how ever, the tr th of the vision was established; for, beside the fountain she beheld the silver lute glitter ing in the morning sunshine. ! "She hastened to her aunt, related all that had be fallen her, and called her to behold the lute as a tes timonial 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 bo som of the immaculate Fredegonda, that region of eternal winter, into a genial flow. Nothing but su pernatural melody could have produced such an effect. The extraordinary power of the lute became every day more and more apparent. The wayfarer pass ing by the tower was detained, and, as it were, spell bound, in breathless ecstasy. The very birds gath ered in the neighbouring trees, and, hushing their own strains, listened in charmed silence. Rumour 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 honour to her; or rather, who should secure the charms 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 was talked of throughout Andalusia, but the beau- 236 THE ALHAMBRA. tiful 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 dif ferent mood prevailed at the court of Spain. Philip V., as is well known, was a miserable hypochon driac, and subject to all kinds of fancies. Some times he would keep to 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 splendours 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 dispel ling the royal megrims as the powers of music ; the queen took care, therefore, to have the best per formers, 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 tod come over the mind of this sapient and illustrious Bcurbon, that surpassed all former vagaries. After a long spell of imaginary illness, which set all the strains of Farinelli, and the consult;,, ens 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 impatient, and to revile bitterly at them for negli gence and disrespect in leaving him unburied. What was to be done ? To disobey the king s positive THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 237 commands was monstrous in the eyes of the obse quious courtiers of a punctilious court, but to obey him, and bury him alive, would be downrigth regi cide ! In the midst of this fearful dilemma, a rumour reached the court of the female minstrel, who was turning the brains of all Andalusia. The queen despatched missives in all haste, to summon her to St. Ildefonso, where the court at that time resided. Within a few days, as the queen with her maids of honour was walking in those stately gardens, in tended, with their avenues, and terraces, and fount ains, to eclipse the glories of Versailles, the far- famed minstrel was conducted into her presence. The imperial Elizabetta gazed with surprise at the vouthful and unpretending appearance of the little being that had set the world madding. She was in her picturesque Anclalusian dress ; her silver lute was in her hand, and she 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 vigi lant Fredegonda, who gave the whole history of her parentage and descent to the inquiring queen. If the stately Elizabetta had been interested by the ap pearance of Jacinta, she was still more pleased when she learnt that she was of a meritorious, though im poverished line, and that her father had bravely fallen in the service of the crown. " If thy powers equal their renown," said she, " and thou canst cast forth this evil spirit that possesses thy sovereign, thy for tune shall henceforth be my care, and honours 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 238 THE ALIIAMBRA. length at a great chamber hung in black. The win dows were closed, to exclude the light of day; a number of yellow wax tapers, in silver sconces, dif fused a lugubrious light, and dimly revealed the fig ures of mutes in mourning dresses, and courtiers, who glided about with noiseless step and woe-begone visage. On 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 mon arch. The queen entered the chamber in silence, and, pointing to a footstool in an obscure corner, beck oned to Jacinta to sit down and commence. At first she touched her lute with a faltering hand, but gathering confidence and animation as she pro ceeded, drew forth such soft, aerial harmony, that all present could scarce believe it mortal. As to the monarch, who had already considered himself in the world of spirits, he set it down for some angehc mel ody, or the music of the spheres. By degrees the theme was varied, and the voice of the minstrel ac companied the instrument. She poured forth one of the legendary ballads treating of the ancient glo ries of the Alhambra. and the achievements of th< Moors. Her whole soul entered into the theme, for with the recollections of the Alhambra was associ ated the story of her love ; the funereal chamber re sounded with the animating strain. It entered into the gloomy heart of the monarch. 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 apartment were thrown open ; the glorious effulgence of Spanish sunshine burst into the late lugubrious chamber; all eyes THE ROXK OP Till: ALHAMBHA. 239 sought the lovely enchantress, but the lute had fallen from her hand ; she had sank upon the earth, and the next moment was clasped to the bosom of Ruyz de Alarcon. The nuptials of the happy couple were shortly after celebrated with great splendour, but hold, I hear the reader ask how did Ruyz de Alarcon ac count for his long neglect ? Oh, that was all owing to the opposition of a proud pragmatical old father, besides, young people, who really like one another, soon come to an amicable understanding, and bury all past grievances whenever they meet. But how was the proud pragmatical old father reconciled to the match ? Oh, his scruples were easily overruled by a word or two from the queen, especially as dignities and rewards were showered upon the blooming favour ite of royalty. Besides, the lute of Jacinta, you know, possessed a magic power, and could control the most stubborn head and hardest heart. And what became of the enchanted lute ? Oh, that is the most curious matter of all, and plainly proves the truth of all the story. That lute remained for some time in the family, but was pur loined and carried off, as was supposed, by the great singer Farinelli, in pure jealousy. At his death it passed into 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 vir tues. A word in the reader s ear, but let it go no further, that fiddle is now bewitching the whole world, it is the fiddle of Paganini ! THE VETERAN. AMONG the curious acquaintances I have made |n my rambles about the fortress, is a brave and bat tered old Colonel of Invalids, who is nestled like a hawk in one of the Moorish towers. His history, which he is fond of telling, is a tissue of those advent ures, mishaps, and vicissitudes that render the 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 reckons among the most signal and fortunate events of his life, his having seen General Washington. Since then he has taken a part in all the wars of his country ; he can speak experimentally of most of the prisons and dungeons of the Peninsula, has been lamed of one leg, crippled in his hand, and so cut up and carbonadoed, that he is a kind of walking monu ment of the troubles of Spain, on which there is a scar for every battle and broil, as every year was notched upon the tree of Robinson Crusoe. The greatest misfortune of the brave old cavalier, how ever, appears to have been his having commanded at Malaga during a time of peril and conft sion, ar,j been made a general by the inhabitants to protect them from the invasion of the French. This has entailed upon him a number of just claims upon government that I fear will employ him until his dying day in writing and printing petitions and memorials, to the great disquiet of his mind, ex haustion of his purse, and penance of his friends; not one of whom can visit him without having to listen to a mortal document of half an hour iu THE VETERAN 241 length, and to carry avvny Haifa dozen pamphlets in his pocket. This, however, is the case throughout Spain : every \vhere you meet with some worthy wight brooding in a corner, and nursing up some pet grievance and cherished wrong. Beside, a Spaniard who has a lawsuit, or a claim upon gov ernment, may be considered as furnished with em ployment for the remainder of his life. I visited the veteran in his quarters in the upper part of the Terre del Vino, or Wine Tower. His room was small but snug, and commanded a beau tiful view of the Vega. It was arranged with a sol dier s precision. Three muskets and a brace ot pistols, all bright and shining, were suspended against the wall, with a sabre and a cane hanging side by side, and above these two cocked hats, one for parade, and one for ordinary use. A small shelf, containing some half dozen books, formed his library, one of which, a little old mouldy volume of philo sophical maxims, was his favourite reading. This he thumbed and pondered over day by day ; apply ing 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 is social and kind-hearted, and, provided he can be diverted from his wrongs and his philoso phy, is an entertaining companion. I like these old weather-beaten sons of fortune, and enjoy their rough campaigning anecdotes. In the course of my visit to the one in question, I learnt some curious facts abo\jt an old military commander of the for tress, who seems to have resembled him in some re spects, and to have had similar fortunes in the wars. These particulars have been augmented by inquiries among some of the old inhabitants of the place, par ticularly the father of Mateo Ximencs, of whose tra ditional stories the worthy I am about to introduce to the reader is a favourite 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 himself upon being an old soldier, wore his mustachios 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 punctil ious, and tenacious of all his privileges and dignities. Under his sway, the immunities of the Alhambra, as a royal residence and domain, were rigidly exacted. No one was permitted to enter the fortress with fire arms, 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 aU times be somewhat irksome to the captain-general who commands the province, to have thus an im- penum in imperio, a petty independent post, in the very core of his domains. It was rendered the more galling in the present instance, 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 that had THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 243 gradually nestled themselves within the fortress a-; in a sanctuary, and from 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 neighbouring potentates is always the most captious about his dignity. The stately palace of the captain-general stood in the Plaza Nueva, im mediately 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 overlooked the palace and the 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 un wieldy Spanish edifice of carved timber and gilt leather, drawn by eight mules, with running foot men, outriders, and lacqueys, on which occasions he flattered himself he impressed every beholder with awe and admiration as vicegerent 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 al lusion to the vagrant character of his subjects, to greet him with the appellation 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 244 THE ALHAMBRA. himself or his garrison. By degrees, this privilege had given rise to extensive 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 consulted his legal adviser and factotum, a shrewd, meddlesome Escribano or notary, who re joiced in an opportunity of perplexing the old poten tate of the Alhambra, and involving him in a maze of legal subtilities. He advised the captain-general to insist upon the right of examining every convoy passing through the gates of his city, and he penned a long letter for him, in vindication of the right. Governor Manco was a straight-forward, cut-and- thrust old soldier, who hated an Escribano worse than the devil, and this one in particular, worse than all other Escribanoes. " What ! " said he, curling up his mustachios fiercely, " does the captain-general set his man of the pen to practise confusions upon me? I ll let him see that 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 nto argument, he insisted on the right of transit free of search, and denounced vengeance on any Custom-house officer who should lay his unhallowed hand on any convoy pro^cted by the flag oi the Alhambra. While this question was agitated between the two pragmatical potentates, it so happened that a mule laden with supplies for the fortress arrived o ne clay at the gate of Xenil, by which it was to traverse a suburb of the city on its way to the Alh-imbru, The convoy was headed by a testy old corporal, who had long served under the governor, and was a man THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 245 after his own heart ; as trusty and staunch 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 him self 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 grounds, 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 turning his head. " What have you in charge ? " : " Provisions for the garrison." "Proceed." The corporal marched straight forward, followed by the convoy, but had not advanced many paces, before a poss6 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. " Respect the flag of the Al hambra," said he ; " these things are for the gov ernor." " A fig for the governor, and a fig for his flag. Muleteer, halt, I say." " Stop the convoy at your peril ! " cried the cor poral, 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. The old corporal was seized, and after undergoing sundry kicks and cuffs, and cudgellings, which are generally given impromptu, by the mob in Spain, as a fore taste of the after penalties of the law, he was loaded 816 THE ALIIAMBRA. 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 vapoured 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 despatched 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, eplied at great length, irguing 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 sur-rejoinder 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 con ducting 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. THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 247 It was in vain the governor sent down remon strance 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 al ways 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 an extremity, the old governor determined 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. Driving 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, ail in strict form of jus tice," said the self-sufficient Escribano, chuckling and rubbing his hands. " I can show your excel lency the written testimony in the case." " Fetch it hither," said the governor. The Escribano bustled into his office, delighted with having another opportunity of displaying 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. " Pry thee man, get into the carnage 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 coachrnan smacked Ms whip, mules, carriage, guards, and all dashed off at a thundering rate, leaving the crowd 248 THE AL1JAMBKA. in gaping wonderment, nor did the governor pause until he had lodged his prey in one of the strongest dungeons of the Alhambra. He then sent down a flag of truce in military style, proposing a cartel or exchange of prisoners, the corporal for the notary. The pride of the cap tain-general was piqued, he returned a contemptuous refusal, and forthwith caused a gallows, tall and ^trong, to be erected in the centre of the Plaza ffeuva, for the execution of the corporal. " O ho ! is that the game ? " said governor Manco : he gave orders, and immediately a gibbet was reared on the verge of the great beetling bastion that over looked the Plaza. " Now," said he, in a message to the captain-general, " 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 dan gling against the sky." The captain-general was inflexible ; troops were paraded in the square; the drums beat; the bell tolled ; an immense multitude of amateurs had collected to behold the execution ; on the other hand, the governor paraded his garrison on the bas tion, 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 Escribanoes at her heels, and throwing herself ,v: the feet of the captain- general, implored him not to sacrifice the life of her husband, and the welfare of herself and her numer ous 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 lamentations, and the clamours of her callow brood. The corporal was sent up to the Alhambra under a guard, in his gallows garb, like a THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTARY. 249 hooded friar; but with head erect and a face of iron. The Escribano was demanded in exchange, accord ing to the cartel. The once bustling and self-suf ficient 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, 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 a-kimbo, and for a moment surveyed him with an iron smile. " Henceforth, my friend," said he, "moderate youi zeal in hurrying others to the gallows ; be not too certain of your own 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." GO VERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. WHEN governor Manco, or the one-armed, kepT" up a show of military state in the Alhambra, he became nettled at the reproaches continually cast upon his fortress of being- a nestling place of rogues and contrabandistas. On a sudden, the old poten tate determined on reform, and setting vigorously to work, ejected whole nests of vagabonds out of the fortress, and the gipsy caves with which the sur rounding hills are honey-combed. He sent out sol diers, 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 were seated under the garden wall of the Ceneraliffe, 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 unmusical tones, an old Castilian cam paigning song. Presently they beheld a sturdy, sun-burnt 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 de scending, steed in hand, from that solitary moun tain, the corporal stepped forth and challenged him. " Who goes there ? " QOVEltXOll MANCO AND SOLDIER. 251 " 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 fore head, which, with a grizzled beard, added to a cer tain dare-devil cast of countenance, while a slight squint threw into the whole an occasional gleam of roguish good-humour. 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 this 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 moun tain of the Sun, and demands the name of the great city of Granada." " Granada ! Madre de Dios ! can it be possible ! " " Perhaps not ! " rejoined the trumpeter, " and perhaps you have no idea that yonder are the towers of the Alhambra? " " Son of a trumpet," replied the stranger, " do not trille 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 cor poral, "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, at tracted 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 wheel 252 THE ALHAMBRA. of the cistern paused in its rotations ; the slipshod 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, said one ; a contrabandista, said another; a bandalero, said a third, until it was affirmed that a captain of a des perate 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 company with his confessor, a fat Franciscan friar from the neighbouring 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 demureness, was a sly, buxom baggage, had found out a soft spot in the iron heart of the old governor, and held complete control over him, but let that pass ; the domestic affairs of these mighty potentates of the earth should not be too narrowly 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 cor poral, 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 mustachios, 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, GOVERNOR JfAMu AXD SOLDIER. 253 and guarded by the corporal. He maintained, how ever, a resolute, self-confident air, and returned the sharp, scrutinizing look of the governor with an easy squint, which by no means pleased the punc tilious old potentate. " Well, culprit ! " said the governor, after he had regarded him for a moment in silence, " what have you to say for yourself? who are you ? " " A soldier, just from the wars, who has brought away nothing but scars and bruises." "A soldier? humph ! a foot-so. dier ty your garb. I understand you have a fine Arabian horse. I pre sume you brought him too from the wars, beside 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 somethi ng 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 call. -"This holy friar," said he, "is my confes sor, you may say any thing in his presence 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 dem-ure handmaid. * I am perfectly will ing," said he, that the damsel should remain." When all the rest had withdrawn, the soldier com menced his story. He was a fluent, smooth-tongued varlet, and had a command of language above hii apparent rank. " May it please your excellency," said he, " I am, 254 THE ALHAMttKA. as I before observed, a soldier, and have seen some hard service, but my term of enlistment being ex pired, I was discharged not long since from the army at Valladolid, and set out on foot for my native vil lage 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 excellency 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 mustachios. "As the sun went down," continued the soldier, " I cast my eyes about in search of some quarters for the night, but far as my sight could reach, there was 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 pock et-handkerchief out of the basket-hilt of his sword, 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 part all in ruins, but a vault in the foundations quite entire. Here, thinks I, is a good place to make a halt. So I went down to the stream, took a hearty drink, for the water was pure and sweet, and I was parched with thirst, then GOVERNOR MANCO AND SOLDIER. 255 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 supper ; intending afterwards to quarter myself for the night in the vault of the tower, and capital quarters they would have been for a campaigner just from the wars, as your excellency, who is an old soldier, may suppose." " I have put up gladly with worse in my time," said the governor, returning his pocket-handkerchief into the hilt of his sword. 44 While I was quietly craunching my crust," pur sued the soldier, " 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 founda tion 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 contra- bandista ; he might be a bandalero ! What of that, thank heaven and my poverty, 1 had nothing to lose, so I sat still and craunched my crusts. " He led his horse to the water close by where I was sitting, so that I had a fair opportunity of re connoitring him. To my surprise, he was dressed in a Moorish garb, with a cuirass of steel, and a polished skullcap, that I distinguished by the reflec tion of the stars upon it. His horse, too, was har nessed 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 al most 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. 256 THE ALHAMBRA. " He may well drink, said the stranger, speaking with a Moorish accent ; 4 it is a good year since he had his last draught. " By Santiago, said I, that beats even the camels that I have seen in Africa. But come, you seem to be something of a soldier, won t 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 excellency well knows, a soldier is never very particular about the faith of his company, and soldiers of all countries are comrades on peaceable ground." 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 morn ing. " In which direction ? said I. " Andalusia, said he. " Exactly my route, said I. So as you won t stop and eat with me, perhaps you ll 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 soldierlike to refuse, especially 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. " 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, every thing, flew hurry-scurry behind us. GOVERNOR MANGO AND SOLDIER. 257 " What town is this ? said I. " Segovia, said he; and before the words were 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 ol La Mancha. In this way we went up hill and down dale, by towns and cities all buried in deep sleep, and across mountains, and plains, and rivers, jus* glimmering, in the starlight. " To make a long story short, and not to fatiguo your excellency, 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 habita tion : nothing but the mouth of a cavern : while 1 looked, 1 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 hurrying 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 discover. Jt grew stronger and stronger, and enabled me to see every thing around. 1 now no ticed 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 scimitars 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 1 an old soldier, to have seen such grand provision for war. Then in other carverns there 258 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 dress.es and armour. " Well, your excellency, to cut a long story short, we at length entered an immense cavern, or I might 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 of African blacks with drawn scimitai-5. 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 blem ish, and sparkling with jewels ; others in burnished and? enamelled armour; while others were in moul dered and mildewed garments, and in armour all battered and dinted, and covered with rust. " I had hitherto held my tongue, for your ex cellency well knows, it is not for a soldier to ask many questions when on duty, but I could keep silence no longer. " Pry thee, comrade, said I, what is the mean ing of all this? " This, said the trooper, is a great and pow erful mystery. Know, O Christian, that you see be fore 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. GOVERNOR MANGO AND SOLDIER. 259 " So it is recorded in your lying 1 chronicles, re plied the Moor, but know that Boabdil and the war riors who made the last struggle tor Granada were all shut up in this mountain by powerful enchant ment. As to the king and army that marched forth from Granada at the time of the surrender, they were a mere phantom train, or spirits and demons permitted to assume those shapes to deceive the Christian sovereigns. And furthermore 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 v but has some spell-bound warriors sleeping from age to age within its vaults, until the sins are expiated for which Allah permitted the dominion to pass for a time out of the hands of the faithful. Once every year, on the eve. of St. John, they are released from enchantment from sun set to sunrise, and 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 day-break. As to the bat talions of horse and foot which you beheld drawn up in array in the neighbouring caverns, they are the spell-bound warriors of Granada. It is written in the book of fate, that when the enchantment is broken, Boabdil will descend from the mountains at the head of this army, resume his throne in the Al- hambra 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 200 THE ALIIAMBKA. deliverance was at hand ; but there reigns at present a vigilant governor in Alhambra, a staunch old soldier, the same called governor Manco ; while such a warrior holds command of the very outpost, 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 per pendicularly, adjusted his sword, and twirled up his mustachios. " To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excellency, the trooper having given me this ac count, 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 for ward to the throne. " What s to be clone ? thought I, when thus left to myself. 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 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 we had entered. As we scoured by the halls where the Moslem horsemen sat in motionless battalions, I thought I heard the clang of armour, and a hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste of the stir rups, and doubled my speed. There was now a sound behind me like a rushing blast ; I heard the clatter of a thousand hoofs ; a countless throng over took me ; I was borne along in the press, and hurled GOVERNOR MANGO AND SOLDIER. 201 forth from the mouth of the cavern, while thou sands of shadowy forms were swept off in every di rection by the four winds of heaven. " In the whirl and confusion of the scene, I was thrown from the saddle, and fell senseless to the earth. When I came to myself I was lying on the brow ot a hill, witn the Arabian steed standing- be side 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 looking round, to behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs, and other proofs of a southern climate, and see a great city below me with towers and palaces, 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 Gra nada that lay before me : and that I was actually un der the walls of the Alhambra, the fortress of the redoubted governor Manco, the terror of all en chanted Moslems. . When I heard this, I deter mined 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 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 pry thee, friend, you who are a veteran cam paigner, and have seen so much service," said the governor, " how would you advise me to go about to prevent this evil ? " " It is not for an humble private of the ranks," said the soldier modestly, " to pretend to instruct a commander of your excellency s sagacity ; but it ap pears to me that your excellency might cause all the caves and entrances into the mountain to be walled 262 THE ALIIAMBRA. up with solid mason-work, so that Boabdil and his army might be completely corked up in their sub terranean habitation. If the good father too," added the soldier, reverently bowing to the friar, and de voutly crossing himself, " would consecrate the bar- ricadoes with his blessing, and put up a few crosses and reliques, and images of saints, I think they might withstand all the power of infidel enchant ments." "They doubtless would be of great avail," said the friar. The governor now placed his arm a-kimbo, 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 old soldier to deal with ; and one not easily outgeneralled. Ho ! guard there ! put this fellow in irons." The demure handmaid would have put in a word in favour 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 on the table before the governor, and never did freebooter s bag make more gorgeous delivery. Out tumbled rings and jewels, and rosaries of pearls, and sparkling diamond cross es, 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 sanctions of justice were sus- Dended : there was a universal scramble after the GOVERNOR MANGO AND SOLDIER. 263 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 sight of the rosaries and crosses. " Sacrilegious wretch that thou art," exclaimed he, " what church or sanctuary hast thou been plundering of these sacred reliques ? " " Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they be sacrilegious spoils, they must have been taken in times long past by the infidel trooper I have men tioned. 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, con tained 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 towers, which, though not under a magic spell, will hold you as safe as any cave of your en chanted Moors." " Your excellency will do as you think proper," said the prisoner coolly. "I shall be thankful to your excellency for any accommodation in the fortress. A soldier who has been in the wars, as your excel lency well knows, is not particular about his lodg ings ; and provided I have a snug dungeon and regu lar rations, I shall manage to make myself comfort able. I would only entreat, that while your excel lency is so careful about me, you would have an eye to your fortress, and think on the hint I drop ped about stopping up the entrances to the moun tain." Here ended the scene. The prisoner was con- 264 THE ALHAMDRA. ducted to a strong dungeon in the Vermilion towers, the Arabian steed was led to his excellency s stable, and the trooper s sack was deposited in his excel lency s strong box. To the latter, it is true, the friar made some demur, questioning whether the sacred reliques, 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 dis creetly dropped the discussion, but determined to convey intelligence of the fact to the church digni taries in Granada. To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part of old governor Manco, it is proper to ob serve, that about this time the Alpuxarra mountains in the neighbourhood 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 various disguises to gain intelligence of the departure of convoys of merchandise, or travellers with well-lined purses, whom they took care to way lay in distant and solitary passes of their 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 suspicious strag glers. Governor Manco was particularly zealous, in consequence of the various stigmas that had been cast upon his fortress, and he now doubted not that he had entrapped some formidable desperado of this gang. In the mean time 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 Vermilion GOVERNOR MANGO AND SOLDIER. 205 towers, and every one who had been robbed by him Hocked .to recognize the marauder. The Vermilion towers, as is well known, stand apart from the Al- hambra, on a sister hill separated from the main fortress by the lavine, down which passes the maia 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, how ever, recognized him for Manuel Borasco, for that terrible robber was noted for a ferocious physiog nomy, and had by no means the good-humoured 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 hou 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 people. A freebooter of the mountains is by no means the opprobrious 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 m 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. 266 THE ALHAMBRA, The soldier, moreover, was a meriy, waggish fel low, that had a joke for every one who cajne near his window, and a soft 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 de light of the women of the neighbourhood, who would assemble on the esplanade in the evenings, and dance boleros to his music. Having trimmed off his rough beard, his sunburnt face found favour in the eyes of the fair, and the demure handmaid 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 rigour of his dis pensations. 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 Penas, 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 inveter ate 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 In quisitor, of the crosses, and the rosaries, and other reliques contained in the bag, he claimed the culprit, as having been guilty of sacrilege, and insisted that his plunder was due to the church, and his body to GOVERNOR MANGO AND SOLDIER. 267 the next Auto da Fe. The feuds ran high ; the gov ernor was furious, and swore, rather than surrender his captive, he would hang him up within the Al- hambra, as a spy caught within the purlieus of the fortress. The captain-general threatened to send a body of soldiers to transfer the prisoner from the Vermilion Bowers to the city. The grand Inquisitor was equally bent upon despatching a number of the fa miliars of the holy office. Word was brought late at night to the governor, of these machinations. " Let them come," said he, " they ll find me before hand with them. He must rise bright and early who would take in an old soldier." He accordingly issued orders to have the prisoner removed at daybreak to the Donjon Keep within the walls of the Alhambra : " And d ye hear, child," said he to his demure hand maid, " 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 his 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, gasp ing 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 e^one off 268 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 leathern purse of the trooper abstracted, and with it a couple of corpulent bags of doubloons. But how, and which way had the fugitives escaped ? A 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 horse man, with a female seated before him. " Search the stables," cried governor Manco. The stables were 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." 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 blithe as a grasshopper, singing 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 and 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, & ct set the girls dancing boleros and fandangos. Like most little men, Lope Sanchez had a strap ping 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 children 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, 270 THE ALHAMBRA. women, and children, went up at night to the moun tain of the Sun, which rises above the Generaliffe, to keep their midsummer vigil on its level summit. It was a bright moonlight night, and all the mountains were gray and silvery, and the city, with its domes and spires, lay in shadows below, and the Vega was like a fairy land, with haunted streams gleaming among its dusky groves. On the highest part of the mountain they lit up a bale fire, 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 bale fires here and there in the Vega, and along the folds of the mountains, blazed up palely in the moonlight. The evening was gaily 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, on gathering pebbles in the fosse, she found a small hand, curiously carved of jet, the fingers closed, and the thumb firmly clasped upon them. Overjoyed with her good fortune, she ran to her mother witr. her prize. It immediately became a subject of sag; speculation, and was eyed by some with superstitious distrust. " Throw it away," said one, " it is 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 of great value to guard against the evil eye, and all kinds of spells and enchantments. I give you joy, friend Lope, this bodes good luck to vour child." THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 271 Upon hearing this, the wife of Lope Sanchez tied the little hand of jet to a riband, and hung it round the neck of her daughter. The sight of this talisman called up all the favour ite superstitions 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 sub terranean palace in the bowels of that mountain, where Boabdil and all his Moslem 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 Grana da, 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 day or two about 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 neighbours found his goats browsing 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 atten tion 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 272 THE ALIIAMBKA, 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 black as pitch, and gave an idea of immeasura ble depth. Her blood ran cold she drew back- then peeped 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 projection with a violent crash, then rebounded from side to side, rumbling and tumbling, with a noise like thun der, then made a final splash into water, far, far be low, and all was again silent. 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 bee hive. 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 clangour of trumpets, as if some army were marshal ling 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 bale fire 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 ; every thing seemed to have sunk to repose. Sanchica called her parents and some of her companions byname, but received no reply. She ran down the side of the mountain, and by the gar dens of the Generalise, until she arrived in the alley of trees leading to the Alhambra, where she seated herself on a bench of a woody recess to recover breath. The bell from the watch-tower of the Al- THE TWO DIMHEET STATUES. 273 hambratold 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 sur prise, she beheld a long cavalcade of Moorish war riors pouring down the mountain side, and along the leafy avenues. Some were armed with lances and shields ; others with scimitars and battle-axes, and with polished cuirasses that flashed in the moon beams. Their horses pranced proudly, and champ ed upon the bit, 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 embroidered with gold, and swept the earth ; but she rode all discon solate, with eyes ever fixed upon the ground. Then s^cceejled a train of courtiers magnificently arrayed in robes and turbans of divers colours, and amidst these, on a cream-coloured charger, roce 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 resemblance to his portrait, which she had often seen in the picture gallery of the Generaliffe. 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 or enchant ment, 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 fol lowed. It continued on to the great gate of Justice, 274 THE ALHAMBRA. which stood wide open ; the old invalid sentinels on duty, lay on the stone benches of the Barbican, bur ied 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 tc proceed by finding steps rudely hewn in the rock, and a vaulted passage here and there lit up by a sil ver lamp, which, while it gave light, diffused like wise 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, nodding and dozing, with a staff in his hand, which seemed ever to be slipping from his grasp ; while at a little distance, sat a Leau- tiful 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, con cerning 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 enchanted hall. " Is it the eve of the blessed St. John ? " said she. "It is," replied Sanchica. " Then for one night the magic charm is sus pended. Come hither, child, and fear not, I am a Christian like thyself, though bound here by en chantment. Touch my fetters with the talisman that hangs about thy neck, and for this night I shall be free." THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 275 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 awoke, and began to rub his eyes, but the lady ran her ringers 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 tal- ismanic hand of jet." The child did so, and it fell from his grasp, and he sunk 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 vibra ted in his ear, " O potent spirit of harmony," said she, " continue thus to hold his senses in thraldom till the return of day." " Now follow me, my child," continued she, " and thou shalt behold hc Alhambra as it was in the days of its glory, for thou hast a i* talisman that reveals afl enchantments." Sanchica followed the lady in silence. They passed ap through the entrance of the cavern into the Bar bican of the gate of Justice, and thence to the Plaza le las Algibes, or esplanade within the fortress. This was all filled with Moorish soldiery, horse and loot, marshalled in squadrons, with banners display ed. There were royal guards also at the portal, and rows of African blacks with drawn scimitars. 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. Instead of cobwebs, they were now hung with rich 276 THE ALHAMBRA. silks of Damascus, and the gildings and arabesque paintings were restored to their original brilliancy and freshness. The halls, instead of being naked and unfurnished, were set out with divans and otto mans of the rarest stuffs, embroidered with pearls, and studded with precious gems, and all the foun tains in the courts and gardens were playing. The kitchens were again in full operation ; cooks were busied preparing shadowy dishes, and roasting and boiling the phantoms of pullets and partridges ; servants were hurrying to and fro with silver dishes heaped up with dainties, and arranging a delicious ban quet. 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 judg ment, sat Boabdil on his throne, surrounded by his court, and swayed a shadowy sceptre for the night. Notwithstanding all this throng and seeming bustle, not a voice or footstep was to be heard ; nothing interrupted the midnight silence but the plashing of the fountains. The little Sanchica fol lowed her conductress in mute amazement about the palace, until they came to a portal opening to the vaulted passages beneath the great tower of Co- mares. 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 reward for thy faith and courage. These discreet statues watch over a mighty treasure hid den 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 dlone, however, gifted as thou art also with the talis man, can remove the treasure. Bid thy father use THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 277 it discreetly, and devote a part of it to the perform ance of daily masses for my deliverance from this unholy enchantment." When the lady had spoken these words, she led the child onward 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 pa ssage leading beneath the towers of Comares, and was no longer to be seen. The faint crowing of a cock was now heard from the cottages below the Alhambra, n the valley of the Darro, and a pale streak of light began to appeal 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 re turned to the scenes she had so lately beheld thronged with the shadowy multitude, but Boabdil and his phantom court were gone. The moon shone into empty halls and galleries, stripped of their transient splendour, stained and dilapidated 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 re mote 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 278 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 wei.t forth to his cus tomary labours 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 accus tomed to precious stones, he was ignorant of the real value of the wreath, but he saw enough to con vince him that it was something more substantial than the stuff that dreams are generally made of, 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, however, 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 build ing. 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 with a thousand cares. He could not help hovering within distant view of the two statues, and became nervous from the dread that the golden secret might be discovered. Every footstep that THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 279 approached the place, made him tremble. He would have given anything 1 could he but turn the heads of the statues, forgetting that they had looked pre cisely 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 betray 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 lurk ing near the place would awaken suspicions. Then he would return cautiously, and peep from a distance to see if every thing was secure, but the sight of the statues would again call forth his indignation. "Aye, 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 wi:h, 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 advanced, 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 between them, " I will relieve you from this charge that must have set so heavy in your minds tor the last two or three centuries." He accordingly went to work at the part of the wall which he had marked, and in a little while laid open a concealed recess, in which stood two great jars of porcelain. He attempted to draw them forth, but they were in> 280 THE ALHAMBRA. movable until touched by the innocent hand of his Tittle daughter. With her aid he dislodged them firom 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 ? Now too, for the first time in his life, the dread of robbers entered into his mind. He looked with terror at the inse curity of his habitation, and went to work to barri cade the doors and windows ; yet after all his pre cautions, he could not sleep soundly. His usual gaiety was at an end ; he had no longer a joke or a song for his neighbours, 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, thinking 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 be fore this to have mentioned, that Lope being rather a light, inconsiderate little man, his wife was ac customed, 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 neighbouring convent of San Francisco, who was, in fact, the spiritual comforter of half the good wives of the neighbourhood. He was, moreover, in great esteem among divers sisterhoods of nuns, who THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 281 requited him for his ghostly services by frequeni presents of those little dainties and nicknacks manufactured in convents, such as delicate con fections, sweet biscuits, and bottles of spiced cor dials, found to be marvellous restoratives after fasts and vigils. Fray Simon thrived in the exercise of his func tions. 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 austerity of his self- discipline ; the multitude doffed their caps to him as a mirror of piety, and even the dogs scented the odo ir 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 conf dant of women in humble life in Spain, he was soon made ac quainted, in great secrecy, with the story of the hid den treasure. The friar opened eyes and mouth, and crossed himself a dozen times at the news. After a mo ment s pause, " 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 has 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 ac commodated. Bring hither the 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 282 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 heaven at so cheap a rate, and the friar, put ting the wreath under his mantle, departed with saintly steps towards his convent. When Lope Sanchez came home, his wife told him what had passed. He was excessively pro voked, for he lacked his wife s devotion, and had for some time groaned in secret at the domestic visita tions of the friar. " Woman," said he, " what hast thou done ! Thou hast put every thing at hazard by thy tattling." "What!" cried the good woman, "would you forbid my disburdening my conscience to my con fessor? " "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 coun tenance. " Daughter," said he, " I have prayed earnestly 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 ? Go to the house of Lope Sanchez, crave in my name a portion of the Moorish gold to furnish two candlesticks for the main ^tar, and let him possess the residue in peace. " THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 283 When the good woman heard of this vision, she crossed herself 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 prid 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 dona tion to the- church, he had well nigh 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 ! " Jt 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 very small a portion. Unluckily, Fray Sisaon had a number of poor re lations 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 salutations 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 make peace offerings to every saint in the kalendar. He determined, therefore, to pack up his remaining wealth, beat a secret retreat in the night, and make off to another part of the kingdom. Full of his project, he bought a stout mule for the purpose, and tethered it in a gloomy vault, under neath the tower of the Seven Floors. The very place from whence the Bellado, or goblin horse without a head, is said to issue forth at midnight 384 THE ALHAMKliA. and to scour the streets of Granada, pursued by a pack of hell-hounds. Lope Sanchez had little faith in the story, but availed himself of the dread oc casioned 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 conveyed his treasure to the vault under the tower, and having loaded his mule, he led it forth, and cautiously de scended the dusky avenue. Honest Lope had taken his measures with the ut most 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 treas ures on the point of slipping for ever out of his grasp, and determined to have one more dash at them for the benefit of the church and San Fran cisco. Accordingly, when the bells had rung for animas, and all the Alhambra was quiet, he stole out of his convent, 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, and listening to the dreary hootings of owls, and the distant barking of dogs from the gipsy caverns. At length, he heard the tramp of hoofs, and, through the gloom of the overshadowing trees, im perfectly beheld a steed descending 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 di rectly before him, when darting forth from his leafy covert, and putting one hand on the shoulder, and THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. the other on the crupper, he made a vault that would not have disgraced the most experienced master of equitation, and alighted well forked astride the steed. "Aha! "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 at 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 ribands, 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 to his terror and distress, he found a pack jf seven hounds in full cry at his heels, and per ceived, too late, that he was actually mounted upsn the terrible Bellado ! Away they went, according to the ancient phrase, "pull devil, pull friar," down the great avenue, across the Plaza Nueva, along the Zacatin, around the Vivarambla, never did huntsman and hound make a more furious run, or more infernal uproar. In vain did the friar invoke every saint in the kal- endar, 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 Bellado bound as high as a house. Through the remainder 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 Vivarambla, the Zacarin, 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 286 THE ALHAMBRA. just appeared as they reached the tower ; here the goblin steed kicked up his heels, sent the friar a somerset through the air, plunged into the dark vault followed by the infernal pack, and a profound si lence succeeded to the late deafening clamour. Was ever so diabolical a trick played off upon holy friar ? A peasant going to his labours at early dawn, found the unfortunate Fray Simon lying under a fig- tree at the foot of the tower, but so bruised and be deviled, 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 con soled himself in the mean time, with the thoughts that though the mule with the treasure had escaped him, he had previously had some rare pickings at the infidel spoils. His first care on being able to use his limbs, was to search beneath 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 myr tle, and the leathern pouches filled with sand and gravel ! Fray Simon, with all his chagrin, had the discre tion to hold his tongue, for to betray the secret might draw on him the ridicule of the public, ana 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 Bellado. 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 showed in his conduct shortly before his mysterious departure, that poverty and distress had THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 287 driven him to some extremity. Some years after wards, one of his old companions, an invalid sol dier, 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 inva lid. What, was the astonishment of the latter to behold in this grand cavalier, his old friend Lope Sanchez, who was actually celebrating the marriage of his daughter Sanchica, with one of the first gran dees in the land. The carriage contained the bridal party. There was dame Sanchez now grown as round as a barrel, and dressed out with feathers and jewels, and neck laces of pearls, and necklaces of diamonds, and rings on every finger, and altogether a finery ol apparel that, had not been seen since the days ot 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 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 dis- 288 THE ALUAMBRA. creet 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 remaining there, well worthy the attention of the enterprizing 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. MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR; The Founder of the Aihambra. HAVING dealt so freely in the marvellous legends of the Aihambra, I feel as if bound to give the reader a few facts concerning its sober history, or rather the history of those magnificent princes, its founder and finisher, to whom Europe is indebted for so beauti ful and romantic an oriental monument. To at tain these facts, I descended from this region of fancy and fiction, where every thing is liable to take an imaginative tint, and carried my researches among the dusty tomes of the old Jesuit s library in the uni versity. 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, while masters of Granada. Still it contains, among many ponderous tomes of polemics of the Jesuit fathers, several curious tracts of Spanish literature, and above all, a number of those antiqua ted, dusty, parchment-bound chronicles, for which I have a peculiar 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 en trusted to me, and I was left alone to rummage at my leisure a rare indulgence in those sanctuaries of learning, which too often tantalize the thirsty student with the sight of sealed fountains of knowl edge. , 290 THE ALII AMUR A. In the course of these visits I gleaned the follow ing particulars concerning the historical characters In question. The Moors of Granada regarded the Alhambra as a miracle of art, and had a tradition that the king who founded it dealt in magic, or at least was deeply versed in alchymy, by means of which, he procured the immense sums of gold expended in its erection, A brief view of his reign will show the real secret of his wealth. The name of this monarch, as inscribed on the walls of some of the apartments, was Aben Abd allah, (/. e. the father of Abdallah,) but he is commonly known in Moorish history as Mahamad Aben Alah- mar, (or Mahamad son of Alahmar,) or simply Aben Alahmar, for the sake of brevity. He was born in Arjona, in the year of the Hegira, 591, of the Christian era, 1195, of the noble family of the Beni Nasar, or children of Nasar, and no ex pense was spared by his parents to fit him for the high station to which the opulence and dignity of his family entitled him. The Saracens of Spain were greatly advanced in civilization. Every principal city was a seat of learning and the arts, so that it was easy to command the most enlightened instruct ors for a youth of rank and fortune. Aben Alah mar, when he arrived at manly years, was appointed Alcayde or governor of Arjona. and Jaen, and gained great popularity by his benignity and justice. Some years afterwards, on the death of Aben Hud, the Moorish power of Spain was broken into factions, and many places declared for Mahamad Aben Alah mar. Being of a sanguine spirit and lofty ambition, he seized upon the occasion, made a circuit through the country, and was every where received with ac clamation. It was in the year 1238 that he entered Granada amidst the enthusiastic shouts of the mul titude. He was proclaimed king with every demon- MA II A MA l> A REF ALAHMA I! 291 stration of joy, and soon became the head of the Moslems in Spain, being the first of the illustrious line of Beni Nasar that had sat upon the throne. His reign was such as to render him a blessing to his subjects. He gave the command of his various cities to such as had distinguished themselves by valour and prudence, and who seemed most accept able 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 personally to their assistance and redress. He erected hospitals for the blind, the aged, and infirm, and all those incapable of labour, and visited them frequently, not on set days, with pomp and form, so as to give time for every thing to be put in order and every abuse concealed, but suddenly and unexpect edly, informing himself by actual observation and close inquiry of the treatment of the sick, and the conduct of those appointed to administer to their re lief. He founded schools and colleges, which he visited in the same manner, inspecting personally the in struction of the youth. He established butcheries and public ovens, that the people might be furnished with wholesome provisions 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 the uxuries and merchandize of every clime and country. While Mahamad Aben Alahmar was ruling his fair domains thus wisely and prosperously, he was suddenly menaced by the horrors of war. The Christians at that time, profiting by the dismember- 293 THE ALHAMBRA. ment of the Moslem power, were rapidly regaining their ancient territories. James the Conqueror had subjected all Valentia, and Ferdinand the Saint was carrying his victorious armies into Andalusia. The latter invested the city of Jaen, and swore not to raise his camp until he had gained possession of the place. Mahamad Aben Alahmar was conscious of the insufficiency of his means to carry on a war with the potent sovereign of Castile. Taking a sudden resolution, therefore, he repaired privately to the Christian camp, and made his unexpected appear ance in the presence of king Ferdinand. "In me," said he, " you behold Mahamad, king of Granada. I confide in your good faith, and 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 submission. King Ferdinand was touched by this instance of confidiog faith, and determined not to be outdone in generosity. He raised his late rival from the earth and embraced him as a friend, nor would he accept the wealth he offered, but received him as a vassal, leaving him sovereign of his dominions, on condition of paying a yearly tribute, attending the cortes as one of the nobles of the empire, and serving him in war with a certain number of horsemen. It was not long after this that Mahamad 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 melancholy and humiliating service, however, for they had to draw the sword against their brethren of the faith. Mahamad gained a melancholy dis tinction by his prowess in this renowned conquest, but more true honour by the humanity which he prevailed upon Ferdinand to introcruce into the usages MANAMA D ABEN ALAHMAR. 293 of war. When in 1248, the famous city of Seville surrendered to the Castilian monarch, Mahamad 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."* When the melancholy conqueror approached his beloved Granada, the people thronged forth to see him with impatient joy, for they loved him as a ben efactor. They had erected arches of triumph in honour of his martial exploits, and wherever he passed he was hailed with acclamations, as El Galib, or the conqueror ; Mahamad shook his head when he heard the appellation, " Wa le Galib iU Aid" exclaimed he : (there is no conqueror but God !) From that time forward, he adopted this exclama tion as a motto. He inscribed it on an oblique band across his escutcheon, and it continued to be the motto of his descendants. Mahamad had purchased peace by submission to the Christian yoke, but he knew that where the ele ments were so discordant, and the motives for hos tility so deep and ancient, it could not be secure or permanent. Acting therefore upon an old maxim, " arm thyself in peace, and clothe thyself in sum mer," he improved the present interval of tranquil lity by fortifying his dominions and replenishing his arsenals, and by promoting those useful arts which give wealth and real power to an empire. He gave premiums and privileges to the best artizans ; im proved 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 lonely valleys of his kingdom to bloom * li Que angoste y miserabile seria nuestra vida, sino fuera tan jilatada dilatada y espaciosa nuestra csperanza!" 394 THE ALHAMBRA. 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 about this time, towards the middle of the thirteenth century, and just after his return from the siege of Seville, that he commenced the splendid palace of the Alhambra : superintending the build ing of it in person, mingling frequently among the artists and workmen, and directing their labours. Though thus magnificent in his works, and great in his enterprises, he was simple in his person, and moderate in his enjoyments. His dress was not merely void of splendour, but so plain as not to dis tinguish him from his subjects. His harem boasted but few beauties, and these he visited but seldom, though they were entertained with great magnifi cence. His wives were daughters of the principal nobles, and were treated by him as friends and ra tional companions ; what is more, he managed to make them live as friends with one another. He passed much of his time in his gardens ; es pecially in those of the Alhambra, which he had stored with the rarest plants, and the most beauti ful and aromatic flowers. Here he delighted him self in reading histories, or in causing them to be read and related to him ; and sometimes, in inter vals of leisure, employed himself in the instruction of his three sons, for whom he had provided thf most learned and virtuous masters. As he had frankly and voluntarily offered himself a tributary vassal to Ferdinand, so he always re- MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR. 295 mained loyal to his word, giving him repeated proofs of fidelity and attachment. When that renowned monarch died in Seville, in 1254, Mahamad Aben Alahmar sent ambassadors to condole with his suc cessor, Alonzo X., and with them a gallant train of a hundred Moorish cavaliers of distinguished rank, who were to attend, each bearing a lighted taper round the royal bier, during the funeral ceremonies. 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 Fer nando 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 il lustrious deceased. Mahamad Aben Alahmar retained his faculties and vigour to an advanced age. In his seventy- ninth year he took the field on horseback, accom panied by the flower of his chivalry, to resist an in vasion 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 coun sellors of the king, alarmed by this circumstance, which was considered an evil omen, entreated him to return Their supplications were in vain. The king persisted, and at noon-tide the omen, say the Moorish chroniclers, was fatally fulfilled. Mahamad 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 bv his side :?<io THE ALffAM&RA 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. Such was the enlightened patriot prince, who founded the Alhambra, whose name remains em blazoned among its most delicate and graceful orna ments, and whose memory is calculated to inspire the loftiest . associations in those who tread these fading scenes of his magnificence and glory. 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 tramsmuting baser metals into gold. Those who have attended to his domestic policy, as here set forth, will easily understand the natural magic and simple alchymy which made his ample treasury to overflow. JUSEF ABUL HAG I AS. The Founder of the Alhambra. BENEATH the governor s apartment in the Al hambra, is the royal Mosque, where the Moorish monarchs performed their private devotions. Though consecrated as a Catholic chapel, it still bears traces of its Moslem origin ; the Saracenic columns with their gilded capitals, and the latticed gallery for the females of the harem, may yet be seen, and the escutcheons Of the Moorish kings are mingled on the walls with those of the Castilian sovereigns. In this consecrated place perished the illustrious Jusef Abul Hagias, the high-minded prince who completed the Alhambra, and who, for his virtues and endowments, deserves almost equal renown with its magnanimous founder. It is with pleasure I draw forth from the obscurity in which it has too long remained, the name of another of those princes of a departed and almost forgotten race, who reigned in elegance and splendour in Andalusia, when all Eu rope was in comparative barbarism. Jusef Abul Hagias, (or, as it is sometimes written, Haxis.) ascended the throne of Granada in the year 1333. and his personal appearance and mental quali ties were such as to win all hearts, and to awaken anticipations of a beneficent and prosperous reign. He was of a noble presence and great bodily strength, united to manly beauty. His complexion was ex ceeding fair, and, according to the Arabian chron iclers, he heightened the gravity and majesty of his 298 THE ALHAMBRA. appearance by suffering his beard to grow to a dig nified length, and dying it black. He had an excel lent memory, well stored with science and eriUition ; he was of a lively genius, and accounted the best poet of his time, and his manners were gentle, affa ble, and urbane. Jusef possessed the courage common to all gener ous spirits, but his genius was more calculated for peace than war, and, though obliged to take up arms repeatedly in his time, he was generally un fortunate. He carried the benignity of his nature into warfare, prohibiting all wanton cruelty, and enjoining mercy and protection towards women and children, the aged and infirm, and all friars and per sons of holy and recluse life. Among other ill- starred enterprizes, he undertook a great campaign in conjunction with the king of Morocco, against the kings of Castile and Portugal, but was defeated in the memorable battle of Salado ; a disastrous re verse which had nearly proved a ileath blow to the Moslem power in Spain. Jusef obtained a long truce after this defeat, dur ing which time he devoted himself to the instruction of his people and the improvement o c their morals and manners. For this purpose he established schools in all the villages, with simple and uniform systems of education ; he obliged every hamlet of more than twelve houses to have a Mosque, and prohibited various abuses and indecorums, that hud been introduced into the ceremonies of religion, and the festivals and public amusements of the people He attended vigilantly to the police of the city, establishing nocturnal guards and patrols, and super intending all municipal concerns. His attention was also directed towards finishing the great architectural works commenced by his predecessors, and erecting others on his own plans. The Alhambra, which had been founded by the JU8EF AB VL HA GIAS. 2 JO good Aben Alahmar, was now completed. Jusef constructed the beautiful gate of Justice, forming the grand entrance to the fortress, which he finished in 1 348. He likewise adorned many of the courts and halls of the palace, as may be seen by the inscrip tions on the walls, in which his name repeatedly occurs. He ouilt also the noble Alcazar, or citadel of Malaga ; now unfortunately a mere mass of crum bling ruins, but which, probably, exhibited in its in terior similar elegance and magnificence 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 Jusef, soon filled the city of Granada with magnificent palaces ; the halls of which paved in Mosaic, the walls and ceilings wrought in fret-work, and delicately gilded and painted with azure, vermilion, and other brilliant colours, or minutely inlaid 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 elegant people ; insomuch, that to use the beautiful simile of an Arabian writer, " Gra nada, in the days of Jusef, was as a silver vase filled with emeralds and jacinths." One anecdote will be sufficient to show the mag nanimity of this generous prince. The long truce which had succeeded the battle of Salado, was at an end, and every effort of Jusef to renew it was in vain. His deadly foe, Alfonso XI. of Castile, took the field with great force, and laid siege to Gibraltar. Jusef reluctantly took up arms, and sent troops to the re- 800 THE AL1IAMB11A. lief of the place ; when, in the midst of his anxiety, he received tidings that his dreaded foe had suddenly fallen a victim to the plague. Instead of manifest ing exultation on the occasion, Jusef 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 sover eign who knew how to honour merit, whether in friend or foe ! " The Spanish chroniclers themselves bear witness to this magnanimity. According to their accounts, the Moorish cavaliers partook of the sentiment of their king, and put on mourning for the death of Al fonso. 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 departed, bearing the corpse of Alfonso, the Moors issued in multitudes 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.* Jusef 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 Aihain- bra, a maniac rushed suddenly from behind, and plunged a dagger in his side. The cries of the king * U Y los Moros que estaban en la villa y Castillo de Gibralta- despues que sopieron que el Rey Don Alonzo era muerto, order naron entresi que ninguno non fuesse osado de fazer ningun movi- miento contra los Chri.stianos, nin mover pelear contra ellos, es- tovieron todos quedos y dezian e-ntre ellos que aquel dia munera un uoble rey y gran principe del mundo ! " JU3KF A B U /; 11 A (jIA X. 3U1 brought his guards and courtiers to his assistance. They found him weltering in his blood, and in con vulsions. He was borne to the royal apartments, but 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 monarchs," &c. The mosque still remains, which once resounded with the dying cries of Jusef, but the monument which recorded his virtues, has long since disap peared. His name, however, remains inscribed among the ornaments of the Alhambra, and will be perpetuated in connexion with this renowned pile, which it was his pride and delight to beautify. 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. RENEWALS ONLY TEL. NO. 642-3405 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. RECEIVED PEB2V69-10AI EOAK DEPT. REC D LD 26 69-lQ AM fiECD LD MAY 2 71 98 KEC.CIR. JAN 05 83 JUT 1 K it U. C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES UNIVERSITY QF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY