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. 
 

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