IS* *\ i g 1 I 1 I 3 I _^. j7* 5 s I l & 2 " S P2 i ^ OF-CAL! ^ S Z;> ' ^ I S ^ 8 si 1 g P. ;lOS-ANCELfj> < & ar\^ & 4 ^UIBRA 1 I ^ S 1 /OJITV: \\E-UN!VER5/A ^ttOJIlVJ-JO^ ^OJIIVD-JO^ A\\E-UNIVER%. I 1 ^OF-CALIFO% ^-OF-CALIFOfi^ ^ O "= ex, - 5 Sr 1 rr 1 ia S I I *- S I tbca Entrance to the Mosque of the Alhambra. TTbe Hlbambra Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by GEORGE P. PUTNAM, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. COPYRIGHT, BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS Cbc Knickerbocker press, Ittcw Electrotyped, Printed, and Bound by G. P. Putnam's Sons Elbambra NOTE TO "DARRO" EDITION IRote to tbe "Hterro" Coition. A LTHOUGH there have been alterations ^\ in the palace of the Alhambra and its surroundings since it was visited by Washington Irving in 1829, it is still the at- tractive place so charmingly described by him in these pages. Probably the most striking change is the growth of the great elm-forest, covering one side of the Alhambra hill, through which the traveller passes to reach the palace from the town of Granada. The trees were planted by the Duke of Wel- lington early in the present century, and could hardly have attained much growth in Irving' s time. It is impossible to imagine a more beautiful approach to the fairy palace of the Moorish kings. iv note to tbe "Darro" BDttton Leaving the Plaza Nueva, in Granada, and climbing up the narrow, winding Calle de los Gomeres and through the Puerta de las Gra- nadas, the traveller suddenly finds himself in a thickly planted forest of tall, slender elm-trees. Well-kept paths run in several directions, with here and there a massive stone basin filled by the running waters the old Moors loved so well. On one side, glimpses of the white Sierra Nevada are caught through the thick green foliage ; while in the other direction, far above, are the red walls and towers of the Alhambra. The hoarse hum of myriads of locusts and crickets, the singing of birds, the music of rushing waters, all tend to make this the most enchanting spot in the world, a veritable paradise of nature ; and the paradise of art lies near by. A few minutes' walk, in the shade of a thick green canopy, brings the traveller to the en- trance of the Alhambra enclosure, the massive Puerta del Juicio. Inside, the great open Plaza de los Algibes, the unfinished palace of Charles V., the little town with it's church, convent, and gardens, and the ruined walls and Note to tbe "2>arro" BDition towers are all at the present time very much as they were in 1829 better kept, perhaps, cleared of much of the rubbish that then littered them. It is chiefly in the palace of the Alhambra that a marked change has taken place. This beauti- ful building is no longer the home of the public official or the poor peasant ; and it is doubtful whether the most influential traveller could now obtain permission to reside within its walls. The silent halls are peopled now only by the occasional traveller and talkative custodian. All signs of domestic life have been swept away. Skilful restorations, during the past forty years under the direction of Sefior Con- treras, have added, perhaps, to the general symmetry and beauty of its wonderful courts and halls, and preserved much that would otherwise have fallen to ruin. The removal of innumerable coats of whitewash has re- vealed on every wall a petrified veil of the most delicate lacework. A soft cream color prevails, no general attempt having been made to restore the original tints, although fragments are still to be found, here and there, with their bright primary colors, red, yellow, and blue. vi mote to tbe "2>arro" BDitfon The fountains are no longer filled with leap- ing waters, as in living's time, many of the channels having become clogged, and now only some of them play on rare occasions. The memory of Washington Irving is still green about the Alhambra. He has become, as it were, a kind of genius loci. The rooms he occupied are shown to the visitor ; the Hotel " Washington Irving " stands just outside the walls, on the edge of the elm-forest ; and Span- ish translations of "The Alhambra" and of " The Conquest of Granada" are to be found in every bookshop. R. H. I,. GRANADA, May, 1890. preface to tbe IRevfsefc lE&ition. ROUGH drafts of some of the following tales and essays were actually written during a residence in the Alhambra ; others were subsequently added, founded on notes and observations made there. Care was taken to maintain local coloring and verisimili- tude ; so that the whole might present a faith- ful and living picture of that microcosm, that singular little world into which I had been fortuitously thrown ; and about which the ex- ternal world had a very imperfect idea. It was my endeavor scrupulously to depict its half Spanish, half Oriental character ; its mixture of the heroic, the poetic, and the grotesque ; to revive the traces of grace and beauty fast fading from its walls ; to record the regal and chivalrous traditions concerning those who once trod its courts ; and the whimsical and superstitious legends of the motley race now burrowing among its ruins. viii preface to tbe IRevisefc EDition The papers thus roughly sketched out lay for three or four years in my portfolio, until I found myself in London, in 1832, on the eve of returning to the United States. I then en- deavored to arrange them for the press, but the preparations for departure did not allow sufficient leisure. Several were thrown aside as incomplete ; the rest were put together somewhat hastily and in rather a crude and chaotic manner. In the present edition I have revised and re- arranged the whole work, enlarged some parts, and added others, including the papers origi- nally omitted ; and have thus endeavored to render it more complete and more worthy of the indulgent reception with which it has been favored. W. I. Sunny side, 1851. PAGE I 49 Contents. THE JOURNEY PALACE OF THE ALHAMBRA IMPORTANT NEGOTIATIONS. THE AUTHOR SUC- CEEDS TO THE THRONE OF BOABDIL . .71 INHABITANTS OF THE AUIAMBRA . . .82 THE HALI, OF AMBASSADORS . . . .89 THE JESUIT'S LIBRARY 97 ALHAMAR, THE FOUNDER OF THE AI.HAMBRA . 99 YUSEF ABUT, HAGIG, THE FINISHER OF THE Al,HAMBRA HO THE MYSTERIOUS CHAMBERS . . . .116 PANORAMA FROM THE TOWER OF COMARES . 130 THE TRUANT 141 THE BAI.CONY 146 THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON . . .156 THE COURT OF LIONS 162 THE ABENCERRAGES 173 MEMENTOES OF BOABDI^ 192 PUBLIC FETES OF GRANADA . . . .199 Contents LOCAL TRADITIONS .... THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK . LEGEND OP THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER VISITORS To THE ALHAMBKA RELICS AND GENEALOGIES . THE GENERALISE PAGE . 212 . 216 . 220 251 . 258 . 264 TTUustrations. ENTRANCE TO THK MOSQUE OF THE ALHAM- BRA Frontispiece GYPSIES IN THE ALBAICIN 18 VIEW OE THE ALHAMBRA AND THE SlERRA NEVADA FROM THE CHURCH OF SAN NICO- LAS, ON THE ALBAICIN 42 SECTION OF DECORATED CEILING IN THE PALACE OF THE ALHAMBRA . . .50 FOREST OF ELM TREES OUTSIDE THE WALLS OF THE ALHAMBRA 56 COURT OF THE MYRTLES (ARRAYANES) OR BASIN (ALBERCA) OR, MORE CORRECTLY, BERKAH (BLESSING) 68 PUERTA DEL VINO, IN THE PLAZA DE LOS ALGIBES, ALHAMBRA 82 MlHRAB, IN A 1/lTTLE MOSQUE, NEAR THE PALACE OF THE ALHAMBRA . . . .100 GARDEN OF LINDARAXA, WITH WINDOW OF THE ROOM OCCUPIED BY WASHINGTON IRVING . 120 VOL. I. xn 1Hlustrations I'AGE THE DARRO AND TORRE DE COMARES . . 134 PUERTA DEL Juicio THE ENTRANCE TO THE ENCLOSURE OF THE ALHAMBRA . . . 140 COURT OF THE LIONS, ALHAMBRA . . .162 TORRE DE LA CAUTIVA 188 TORRE DE LOS HIDALGOS, FROM THE TORRE DE LA VELA 206 TOWER AND HOTEL OF THE SIETE SUELOS, ALHAMBRA 220 THE GENERALIFE FROM THE TORRE DE CO- MARES, ALHAMBRA 264 From photographs taken by MR. RICHARD H. LAWRENCE and others. Vol. I. THE ALHAMBRA. Ube Sourno?. T N 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 mem- ber of the Russian Embassy at Madrid. Ac- cident had thrown us together from distant regions of the globe, and a similarity of taste led us to wander together among the romantic mountains of Andalusia. Should these pages meet his eye, wherever thrown by the duties of his station, whether mingling in the pa- geantry of courts, or meditating on the truer glories of nature, may they recall the scenes of our adventurous companionship, and with them the recollection of one, in whom neither time 2 tlbe aibambra nor distance will obliterate the remembrance 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 to their imaginations as a soft, southern region, decked out with 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 mountains, and long sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and indescribably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and solitary character of Africa. What adds to this silence and lone- liness is the absence of singing-birds, a natural consequence of the want of groves and hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen wheeling about the mountain cliffs and soaring over the plains, and groups of shy bustards stalk about the heaths ; but the myriads of smaller birds, which animate the whole face of other coun- tries, are met with in but few provinces in Spain, and in those chiefly among the orchards and gardens which surround the habitations of man. *Note to the Revised Edition. The Author feels at liberty to mention that his travelling companion was the Prince Dolgorouki, at present Russian Minister at the Court of Persia. In the interior provinces the traveller occa- sionally traverses great tracts cultivated with grain as far as the eye can reach, waving at times with verdure, at other times naked and sunburnt, but he looks round in vain for the hand that has tilled the soil. At length he perceives some village on a steep hill or rugged crag, with mouldering battlements and ruined watch-tower a stronghold, in old times, against civil war or Moorish inroad ; for the custom among the peasantry of congregating together for mutual protection is still kept up in most parts of Spain, in consequence of the maraud- ings of roving freebooters. But though a great part of Spain is deficient in the garniture of groves and forests, and the softer charms of ornamental cultivation, yet its scenery is noble in its severity and in unison with the attributes of its people ; and I think that I better understand the proud, hardy, frugal, and abstemious Spaniard, his manly defiance of hardships and contempt of effemi- nate indulgences, since I have seen the country he inhabits. There is something, too, in the sternly sim- ple features of the Spanish landscape, that impresses on the soul a feeling of sublimity. The immense plains of the Castiles and of La Mancha, extending as far as the eye can reach, aibambra derive an interest from their very nakedness and immensity, and possess, in some degree, the solemn grandeur of the ocean. In ranging over these boundless wastes, the eye catches sight here and there of a straggling herd of cattle attended by a lonely herdsman, motion- less as a statue, with his long slender pike tapering up like a lance into the air ; or be- holds a long train of mules slowly moving along the waste like a train of camels in the desert ; or a single horseman, armed with blunderbuss and stiletto, and prowling over the plain. Thus the country, the habits, the very looks of the people, have something of the Arabian character. The general insecurity of the country is evinced in the universal use of weapons. The herdsman in the field, the shepherd in the plain, has his musket and his knife. The wealthy villager rarely ventures to the market-town without his trabuco, and, perhaps, a servant on foot with a blunderbuss on his shoulder ; and the most petty journey is undertaken with the preparation of a warlike enterprise. The dangers of the road produce also a mode of travelling resembling, on a diminutive scale, the caravans of the East. The arrieros^ or car- riers, congregate in convoys, and set off in large and well-armed trains on appointed days ; while additional travellers swell their number, and contribute to their strength. In this primitive way is the commerce of the country carried on. The muleteer is the general medium of traffic, and the legitimate traverser of the land, cross- ing the peninsula from the Pyrenees and the Asturias to the Alpuxarras, the Serrania de Ronda, and even to the gates of Gibraltar. He lives frugally and hardily : his alforjas of coarse cloth hold his scanty stock of pro- visions ; a leatheni bottle, hanging at his saddle-bow, contains wine or water for a sup- ply across barren mountains and thirsty plains ; a mule-cloth spread upon the ground is his bed at night, and his pack-saddle his pillow. His low but clean-limbed and sinewy form betokens strength ; his complexion is dark and sun- burnt ; his eye resolute, but quiet in its ex- pression, except when kindled by sudden emotion ; his demeanor is frank, manly, and courteous, and he never passes you without a grave salutation : ' ' Dios guarde a usted ! ' ' " Va usted con Dios, Caballero ! '" "God guard you ! " " 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 sad- dles, and ready to be snatched out for desperate defence ; but their united numbers render them 6 Cbe aibambra secure against petty bands of marauders, and the solitary bandolero, armed to the teeth, and mounted on his Andalusian steed, hovers about them, like a pirate about a merchant convoy, without daring to assault. The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of songs and ballads, with which to be- guile his incessant wayfaring. The airs are rude and simple, consisting of but few inflec- tions. These he chants forth with a loud voice, and long, drawling cadence, seated sideways on his mule, who seems to listen with infinite gravity, and to keep time with his paces to the tune. The couplets thus chanted are often old traditional romances about the Moors, or some legend of a saint, or some love-ditty ; or, what is still more frequent, some ballad about a bold contrabandista, or hardy bandolero, for the smuggler and the robber are poetical heroes among the common people of Spain. Often, the song of the muleteer is composed at the instant, and relates to some local scene, or some incident of the j ourney . 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 scenes they illustrate, accompanied as they are by the occasional jingle of the mule-bell. tlbe 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 admonishing some tardy or wander- ing animal, or chanting, at the full stretch of his lungs, some traditionary ballad. At length you see the mules slowly winding along the cragged defile, sometimes descending precipi- tous cliffs, so as to present themselves in full relief against the sky, sometimes toiling up the deep arid chasms below you. As they approach, you descry their gay decorations of worsted stuffs, tassels, and saddle-cloths, while, as they pass by, the ever ready trabuco, slung behind the packs and saddles, gives a hint of the insecurity of the road. The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which we were about to penetrate, is one of the most mountainous regions of Spain. Vast sierras, or chains of mountains, destitute of shrub or tree, and mottled with variegated marbles and granites, elevate their sunburnt summits against a deep-blue sky ; yet in their rugged bosoms lie ingulfed verdant and fertile valleys, where the desert and the garden strive for mastery, and the very rock is, as it were, com- pelled to yield the fig, the orange, and the Hlbambra citron, and to blossom with the myrtle and the rose. In the wild passes of these mountains the sight of walled towns and villages, built like eagles' nests among the cliffs, and surrounded by Moorish battlements, or of ruined watch- towers perched on lofty peaks, carries the mind back to the chivalric days of Christian and Moslem warfare, and to the romantic struggle for the conquest of Granada. In traversing these lofty sierras the traveller is often obliged to alight, and lead his horse up and down the steep and jagged ascents and descents, resembling the broken steps of a staircase. Sometimes the road winds along dizzy precipices, without parapet to guard him from the gulfs below, and then will plunge down steep and dark and dangerous declivi- ties. Sometimes it struggles through rugged barrancos, or ravines, worn by winter torrents, the obscure path of the contrabandista ; while, ever and anon, the ominous cross, the monu- ment 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 bando- lero. Sometimes, in winding through the nar- row valleys, he is startled by a hoarse bellowing, and beholds above him on some green fold of the mountain a herd of fierce Andalusian bulls, destined for the combat of the arena. I have felt, if I may so express it, an agreeable horror in thus contemplating, near at hand, these ter- rific animals, clothed with tremendous strength, and ranging their native pastures in untamed wildness, strangers almost to the face of man : they know no one but the solitary herdsman who attends upon them, and even he at times dares not venture to approach them. The low bellowing of these bulls, and their menacing aspect as they look down from their rocky height, give additional wildness to the savage scenery. I have been betrayed unconsciously into a longer disquisition than I intended on the gen- eral features of Spanish travelling ; but there is a romance about all the recollections of the Peninsula dear to the imagination. As our proposed route to Granada lay through mountainous regions, where the roads are little better than mule-paths, and said to be fre- quently beset by robbers, we took due travel- ling precautions. Forwarding the most valuable part of our luggage a day or two in advance by the arrieros, we retained merely clothing and necessaries for the journey and money for the expenses of the road ; with a little surplus Blbambra of hard dollars by way of robber purse, to satisfy the gentlemen of the road should we be assailed. Unlucky is the too wary traveller who, having grudged this precaution, falls into their clutches empty-handed ; they are apt to give him a sound rib-roasting for cheat- ing them out of their dues. ' ' Caballeros like them cannot afford to scour the roads and risk the gallows for nothing. ' ' A couple of stout steeds were provided for our own mounting, and a third for our scanty luggage and the conveyance of a sturdy Bis- cay an lad, about twenty years of age, who was to be our guide, our groom, our valet, and at all times our guard. For the latter office he was provided with a formidable trabuco or car- bine, with which he promised to defend us against rateros or solitary footpads ; but as to powerful bands, like that of the ' ' Sons of Ecija, ' ' he confessed they were quite beyond his prow- ess. He made much vainglorious boast about his weapon at the outset of the journey ; though, to the discredit of his generalship, it was suf- fered to hang unloaded behind his saddle. According to our stipulations, the man from whom we hired the horses was to be at the ex- pense of their feed and stabling on the journey, as well as of the maintenance of our Biscayan squire, who of course was provided with funds Bournes for the purpose ; we took care, however, to give the latter a private hint, that, though we made a close bargain with his master, it was all in his favor, as, if he proved a good man and true, both he and the horses should live at our cost, and the money provided for their maintenance remain in his pocket. This unexpected largess, with the occasional present of a cigar, won his heart completely. He was, in truth, a faithful, cheery, kind-hearted creature, as full of saws and proverbs as that miracle of squires, the re- nowned Sancho himself, whose name, by the by, we bestowed upon him, and, like a true Spaniard, though treated by us with com- panionable familiarity, he never for a moment, in his utmost hilarity, overstepped the bounds of respectful decorum. Such were our minor preparations for the journey, but above all we laid in an ample stock of good humor, and a genuine disposition to be pleased ; determining to travel in true contrabandista style ; taking things as we found them, rough or smooth, and mingling with all classes and conditions in a kind of vag- abond companionship. It is the true way to travel in Spain. With such disposition and determination, what a country is it for a trav- eller, where the most miserable inn is as full of adventure as an enchanted castle, and every be Blbambra meal is in itself an achievement ! Let others repine at the lack of turnpike roads and sump- tuous hotels, and all the elaborate comforts of a country cultivated and civilized into tameness and commonplace ; but give me the rude moun- tain scramble ; the roving, hap-hazard, way- faring ; the half wild, yet frank and hospitable manners, which impart such a true game-flavor to dear old romantic Spain ! Thus equipped and attended, we cantered out of ' ' Fair Seville city ' ' at half-past six in the morning of a bright May day, in company with a lady and gentleman of our acquaintance, who rode a few miles with us, in the Spanish mode ef taking leave. Our route lay through old Alcala de Guadaira (Alcala on the river Aira), the benefactress of Seville, that supplies it with bread and water. Here live the bakers who furnish Seville with that delicious bread for which it is renowned ; here are fabricated those roscas well known by the well-merited appellation of pan de Dios (bread of God) ; with which, by the way, we ordered our man, Sancho, to stock his alforjas for the journey. Well has this beneficent little city been denomi- nated the ' ' Oven of Seville ' ' ; well has it been called Alcala de los Panaderos (Alcala of the Bakers) , for a great part of its inhabitants are of that handicraft, and the highway hence to Gbe Seville is constantly traversed by lines of mules and donkeys laden with great panniers of loaves and roscas. I have said Alcala supplies Seville with water. Here are great tanks or reservoirs, of Roman and Moorish construction, whence water is conveyed to Seville by noble aque- ducts. The springs of Alcala are almost as much vaunted as its ovens ; and to the light- ness, sweetness, and purity of its water is attributed in some measure the delicacy of its bread. Here we halted for a time, at the ruins of the old Moorish castle, a favorite resort for picnic parties from Seville, where we had passed many a pleasant hour. The walls are of great ex- tent, pierced with loopholes ; enclosing a huge square tower or keep, with the remains of mas- moras, or subterranean granaries. The Gua- daira winds its stream round the hill, at the foot of these ruins, whimpering among reeds, rushes, and pond-lilies, and overhung with rhododendron, eglantine, yellow myrtle, and a profusion of wild flowers and aromatic shrubs ; while along its banks are groves of oranges, citrons, and pomegranates, among which we heard the early note of the nightingale. A picturesque bridge was thrown across the little river, at one end of which was the ancient Slbambra Moorish mill of the castle, defended by a tower of yellow stone ; a fisherman's net hung against the wall to dry, and hard by in the river was his boat ; a group of peasant women in bright- colored dresses, crossing the arched bridge, were reflected in the placid stream. Altogether it was an admirable scene for a landscape- painter. The old Moorish mills, so often found on secluded streams, are characteristic objects in Spanish landscape, and suggestive of the peril- ous times of old. They are of stone, and often in the form of towers, with loopholes and bat- tlements, capable of defence in those warlike days when the country on both sides of the border was subject to sudden inroad and hasty ravage, and when men had to labor with their weapons at hand, and some place of temporary refuge. Our next halting-place was at Gandul, where were the remains of another Moorish castle, with its ruined tower, a nestling-place for storks, and commanding a view over a vast campina or fertile plain, with the mountains of Ronda in the distance. These castles were strongholds to protect the plains from the talas or forays to which they were subject, when the fields of corn would be laid waste, the flocks and herds swept from the vast pastures, and, ITbc Bournes together with captive peasantry, hurried off in long cavalgadas across the borders. At Gandul we found a tolerable posada ; the good folks could not tell us what time of day it was, the clock only struck once in the day, two hours after noon ; until that time it was guess- work. We guessed it was full time to eat ; so, alighting, we ordered a repast. While that was in preparation, we visited the palace, once the residence of the Marquis of Gandul. All was gone to decay ; there were but two or three rooms habitable, and very poorly fur- nished. Yet here were the remains of gran- deur : a terrace, where fair dames and gentle cavaliers may once have walked ; a fish pond and ruined garden, with grape-vines and date- bearing palm trees. Here we were joined by a fat curate, who gathered a bouquet of roses, and presented it, very gallantly, to the lady who accompanied us. Below the palace was the mill, with orange trees and aloes in front, and a pretty stream of pure water. We took a seat in the shade, and the millers, all leaving their work, sat down and smoked with us, for the Andalusians are always ready for a gossip. They were waiting for the regular visit of the barber, who came once a week to put all their chins in order. He arrived shortly afterwards : a lad of seven- 16 Slbambra teen, mounted on a donkey, eager to display his new alforjas, or saddle-bags, just bought at a fair ; price one dollar, to be paid on St. John's day (in June), by which time he trusted to have mown beards enough to put him in funds. By the time the laconic clock of the castle had struck two we had finished our dinner. So, taking leave of our Seville friends, and leaving the millers still under the hands of the barber, we set off on our ride across the cam- pina. It was one of those vast plains, common in Spain, where for miles and miles there is neither house nor tree. Unlucky the traveller who has to traverse it, exposed as we were to heavy and repeated showers of rain. There is no escape nor shelter. Our only protection was our Spanish cloaks, which nearly covered man and horse, but grew heavier every mile. By the time we had lived through one shower we would see another slowly but inevitably ap- proaching ; fortunately, in the interval there would be an outbreak of bright, warm, Anda- lusian sunshine, which would make our cloaks send up wreaths of steam, but which partially dried them before the next drenching. Shortly after sunset we arrived at Arahal, a little town among the hills. We found it in a bustle with a party of miguelets, who were Journey patrolling the country to ferret out robbers. The appearance of foreigners like ourselves was an unusual circumstance in an interior country town, and little Spanish towns of the kind are easily put in a state of gossip and wonderment by such an occurrence. Mine host, with two or three old wiseacre comrades in brown cloaks, studied our passports in a corner of the posada, while an Alguazil took notes by the dim light of a lamp. The passports were in foreign lan- guages and perplexed them, but our Squire Sancho assisted them in their studies, and magnified our importance with the grandilo- quence of a Spaniard. In the meantime the magnificent distribution of a few cigars had won the hearts of all around us ; in a little while the whole community seemed put in agitation to make us welcome. The corregidor himself waited upon us, and a great rush-bot- tomed arm chair was ostentatiously bolstered into our room by our landlady, for the accom- modation of that important personage. The commander of the patrol took supper with us : a lively, talking, laughing Andaluz, who had made a campaign in South America, and re- counted his exploits in love and war with much pomp of phrase, vehemence of gesticulation, and mysterious rolling of the eye. He told us that he had a list of all the robbers in the coun- is Cbc Blbambra try, and meant to ferret out 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, senors ; 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 redoubtable Squire Sancho we were not afraid of all the ladrones of Andalusia. While we were supping with our drawcansir friend, we heard the notes of a guitar and the click of castanets, and presently a chorus of voices singing a popular air. In fact, mine host had gathered together the amateur singers and musicians, and the rustic belles of the neighborhood, and, on going forth, the court- yard or patio 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 an archway opening into the court ; the guitar passed from hand to hand, but a jovial shoemaker was the Orpheus of the place. He was a pleasant-looking fel- low, with huge black whiskers ; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He touched the guitar with masterly skill, and sang a little amorous ditty with an expressive leer at the women, with whom he was evidently a favor- Gypsies in the Albaicin. V i Gbe Journeg ite. He afterwards danced a fandango with a buxom Andalusian damsel, to the great delight of the spectators. But none of the females present could compare with mine host's pretty daughter, Pepita, who had slipped away and made her toilette for the occasion, and had covered her head with roses ; and who dis- tinguished herself in a bolero with a handsome young dragoon. We ordered our host to let wine and refreshment circulate freely among the company, yet, though there was a motley assembly of soldiers, muleteers, and villagers, no one exceeded the bounds of sober enjoy- ment. 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 110 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. The following morning was bright and balmy, as a May morning ought to be, according to the poets. Leaving Arahal at seven o'clock, with all the posada at the door to cheer us off, we pursued our way through a fertile country, covered with grain and beautifully verdant; Slbambra I but which in summer, when the harvest is over and the fields parched and brown, must be monotonous and lonely ; for, as in our ride of yesterday, there were neither houses nor people to be seen. The latter all congregate in villages and strongholds among the hills, as if these fertile plains were still subject to the ravages of the Moor. At noon we came to where there was a group of trees, beside a brook in a rich meadow. Here we alighted to make our mid-day meal. It was really a luxurious spot, among wild flowers and aromatic herbs, with birds singing around us. Knowing the scanty larders of Spanish inns and the houseless tracts we might have to traverse, we had taken care to have the alforjas of our squire well stocked with cold provisions, and his bota, or leathern bottle, which might hold a gallon, filled to the neck with choice Valdepefias wine.* As we de- * It may be as well to note here that the alforjas are square pockets at each end of a long cloth about a foot and a half wide, formed by turning up its extremities. The cloth is then thrown over the saddle, and the pockets hang on each side like saddle-bags. It is an Arab invention. The bota is a leathern bag or bottle, of portly dimensions, with a narrow neck. It is also Oriental. Hence the scriptural caution which per- plexed me in my boyhood, not to put new wine into old bottles. pended more upon these for our well-being than even his trabuco, we exhorted him to be more attentive in keeping them well charged ; and I must do him the justice to say that his namesake, the trencher-loving Sancho Panza, was never a more provident purveyor. Though the alforjas and the bota were frequently and vigorously assailed throughout the journey, they had a wonderful power of repletion, our vigilant squire sacking everything that re- mained from our repasts at the inns to supply these junketings by the roadside, which were his delight. On the present occasion he spread quite a sumptuous variety of remnants on the green- sward before us, graced with an excellent ham brought from Seville ; then, taking his seat at little distance, he solaced himself with what remained in the alforjas. A visit or two to the bota made him as merry and chirruping as a grasshopper filled with dew. On my comparing his contents of the alforjas to Sancho' s skim- ming of the flesh-pots at the wedding of Cam- macho, I found he was well versed in the history of Don Quixote, but, like many of the common people of Spain, firmly believed it to be a true history. ' ' All that happened a long time ago, senor, ' ' said he, with an inquiring look. Slbambra "A very long time," I replied. "I dare say more than a thousand years," still looking dubiously. " I dare say not less." The squire was satisfied. Nothing pleased the simple-hearted varlet more than my com- paring him to the renowned Sancho for devo- tion to the trencher ; and he called himself by no other name throughout the journey. Our repast being finished, we spread our cloaks on the greensward under the tree, and took a luxurious siesta, in the Spanish fashion. The clouding up of the weather, however, warned us to depart, and a harsh wind sprang up from the southeast. Towards five o'clock we arrived at Osuna, a town of fifteen thousand inhabitants, situated on the side of a hill, with a church and a ruined castle. The posada was outside of the walls ; it had a cheerless look. The evening being cold, the inhabitants were crowded round a brasero in a chimney-corner ; and the hostess was a dry old woman, who looked like a mummy. Every one eyed us askance as we entered, as Spaniards are apt to regard strangers ; a cheery, respectful salu- tation on our part, caballeroing them and touching our sombreros, set Spanish pride at ease ; and when we took our seat among them, lit our cigars, and passed the cigar-box round among them, our victory was complete. I have never known a Spaniard, whatever his rank or condition, who would suffer himself to be outdone in courtesy ; and to the common Spaniard the present of a cigar (fiuro) is irre- sistible. Care, however, must be taken never to offer him a present with an air of superiority and condescension ; he is too much of a cabal- lero to receive favors at the cost of his dignity. Leaving Osuna at an early hour the next morning, we entered the sierra or range of mountains. The road wound through pictu- resque scenery, but lonely ; and a cross here and there by the roadside, the sign of a murder, showed that we were now coming among the "robber haunts." This wild and intricate country, with its silent plains and valleys intersected by mountains, has ever been famous for banditti. It was here that Omar Ibn Has- san, a robber-chief among the Moslems, held ruthless sway in the ninth century, disputing dominion even with the caliphs of Cordova. This, too, was a part of the regions so often rav- aged during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella by Ali Atar, the old Moorish alcayde of Loxa, father-in-law of Boabdil, so that it was called Ali Atar's garden, and here "Jose Maria," famous in Spanish brigand story, had his favorite lurking-places. Cbe Blbambra In the course of the day we passed through Fuente la Piedra, near a little salt lake of the same name, a beautiful sheet of water, reflect- ing like a mirror the distant mountains. We now came in sight of Antiquera, that old city of warlike reputation, lying in the lap of the great sierra which runs through Andalusia. A noble vega spread out before it, a picture of mild fertility set in a frame of rocky mountains. Crossing a gentle river, we approached the city between hedges and gardens, in which night- ingales were pouring forth their evening song. About nightfall we arrived at the gates. Every- thing in this venerable city has a decidedly Spanish stamp. It lies too much out of the frequented track of foreign travel to have its old usages trampled out. Here I observed old men still wearing the montero, or ancient hunt- ing-cap, once common throughout Spain ; while the young men wore the little round-crowned hat, with brim turned up all round, like a cup turned down in its saucer ; while the brim was set off with little black tufts like cockades. The women, too, were all in mantillas and basquinas. The fashions of Paris had not reached Antiquera. Pursuing our course through a spacious street, we put up at the posada of San Fer- nando. As Antiquera, though a considerable city, is, as I observed, somewhat out of the track of travel, I had anticipated bad quarters and poor fare at the inn. I was agreeably disappointed, therefore, by a supper table am- ply supplied, and what were still more accepta- ble, good clean rooms and comfortable beds. Our man Sancho felt himself as well off as his name- sake when he had the run of the duke's kitchen, and let me know, as I retired for the night, that it had been a proud time for the alforjas. Early in the morning (May 4th) I strolled to the ruins of the old Moorish castle, which itself had been reared on the ruins of a Roman for- tress. Here, taking my seat on the remains of a crumbling tower, I enjoyed a grand and varied landscape, beautiful in itself, and full of storied and romantic association ; for I was now in the very heart of the country famous for the chivalrous contests between Moor and Christian. Below me, in its lap of hills, lay the old warrior city so often mentioned in chronicle and ballad. Out of yon gate and down yon hill paraded the band of Spanish cavaliers, of highest rank and bravest bearing, to make that foray during the war and con- quest of Granada, which ended in the lamenta- ble massacre among the mountains of Malaga, and laid all Andalusia in mourning. Beyond spread out the vega, covered with gardens and {Ebe Blbambra orchards and fields of grain and enamelled meadows, inferior only to the famous vega of Granada. To the right the Rock of the Ivovers stretched like a cragged promontory into the plain, whence the daughter of the Moorish alcayde and her lover, when closely pursued, threw themselves in despair. The matin peal from church and convent below me rang sweetly in the morning air as I descended. The market-place was beginning to throng with the populace, who traffic in the abundant produce of the vega ; for this is the mart of an agricultural region. In the market- place were abundance of freshly-plucked roses for sale ; for not a dame or damsel of Andalusia thinks her gala dress complete without a rose shining like a gem among her raven tresses. On returning to the inn I found our man Sancho in high gossip with the landlord and two or three of his hangers-on. He had just been telling some marvellous story about Seville, which mine host seemed piqued to match with one equally marvellous about Antiquera. There was once a fountain, he said, in one of the public squares called II Fuente del Toro (the Fountain of the Bull), be- cause the water gushed from the mouth of a bull's head, carved of stone. Underneath the head was inscribed : Journeg En frente del toro Se hallen tesoro. (In front of the bull there is treasure.) Many digged in front of the fountain, but lost their labor and found no money. At last one know- ing fellow construed the motto a different way. It is in the forehead (frente) of the bull that the treasure is to be found, said he to himself, and I am the man to find it. Accordingly he came, late at night, with a mallet, and knocked the head to pieces ; and what do you think he found ? "Plenty of gold and diamonds!" cried Sancho, eagerly. "He found nothing," rejoined mine host, dryly, " and he ruined the fountain." Here a great laugh was set up by the land- lord's hangers-on ; who considered Sancho completely taken in by what I presume was one of mine host's standing jokes. Leaving Antiquera at eight o'clock, we had a delightful ride along the little river, and by gardens and orchards fragrant with the odors of spring and vocal with the nightingale. Our road passed round the Rock of the Trovers (HI Penon de los Knamorados), which rose in a precipice above us. In the course of the morn- ing we passed through Archidona, situated in the breast of a high hill, with a three-pointed w Cbe 2llbambra mountain towering above it, and the ruins of a Moorish fortress. It was a great toil to ascend a steep stony street leading up into the city, although it bore the encouraging name of Calle Real del Llano (the Royal Street of the Plain), but it was still a greater toil to descend from this mountain city 011 the other side. At noon we halted in sight of Archidona, in a pleasant little meadow among hills covered with olive trees. Our cloaks were spread on the grass, under an elm by the side of a bub- bling rivulet ; our horses were tethered where they might crop the herbage, and Sancho was told to produce his alforjas. He had been un- usually silent this morning ever since the laugh raised at his expense, but now his countenance brightened, and he produced his alforjas with an air of triumph. They contained the contri- butions of four days' journeying, but had been signally enriched by the foraging of the previ- ous evening in the plenteous inn at Antiquera; and this seemed to furnish him with a set-off to the banter of mine host. Bn frente del toro Se hallen tesoro would he exclaim, with a chuckling laugh, as he drew forth the heterogeneous contents one by one, in a series which seemed to have no 3-ourneg end. First came forth a shoulder of roasted kid, very little the worse for wear ; then an entire partridge ; then a great morsel of salted codfish wrapped in paper ; then the residue of a ham ; then the half of a pullet, together with several rolls of bread, and a rabble rout of oranges, figs, raisins, and walnuts. His bota also had been recruited with some excellent wine of Malaga. At every fresh apparition from his larder, he would enjoy our ludicrous surprise, throwing himself back on the grass, shouting with laughter, and exclaiming, " Frente del toro ! f rente del toro ! Ah, senors, they thought Sancho a simpleton at Antiquera ; but Sancho knew where to find the tesoro. ' ' While we were diverting ourselves with his simple drollery, a solitary beggar approached, who had almost the look of a pilgrim. He had a venerable gray beard, and was evidently very old, supporting himself on a staff, yet age had not bowed him down ; he was tall and erect, and had the wreck of a fine form. He wore a round Andalusian hat, a sheep-skin jacket, and leathern breeches, gaiters, and sandals. His dress, though old and patched, was decent, his demeanor manly, and he addressed us with the grave courtesy that is to be remarked in the lowest Spaniard. We were in a favorable Slbambra mood for such a visitor ; and in a freak of capricious charity gave him some silver, a loaf of fine wheaten bread, and a goblet of our choice wine of Malaga. He received them thankfully, but without any grovelling tribute of gratitude. Tasting the wine, he held it up to the light, with a slight beam of surprise in his eye ; then quaffing it off at a draught, ' ' It is many years," said he, " since I have tasted such wine. It is a cordial to an old man's heart. ' ' Then, looking at the beautiful wheaten loaf, " bendito sea tal pan /" " blessed be such bread ! " So saying, he put it in his wallet. We urged him to eat it on the spot. "No, senors," replied he, " the wine I had either to drink or leave ; but the bread I may take home to share with my family. ' ' Our man Sancho sought our eye, and read- ing permission there, gave the old man some of the ample fragments of our repast, on condi- tion, however, that he should sit down and make a meal. He accordingly took his seat at some little distance from us, and began to eat slowly, and with a sobriety and decorum that would have become a hidalgo. There was altogether a measured manner and a quiet self-possession about the old man, that made me think that he had seen better days : his language, too, though simple, had occasionally something picturesque and almost poetical in the phrase- ology. I set him down for some broken-down cavalier. I was mistaken ; it was nothing but the innate courtesy of a Spaniard, and the po- etical turn of thought and language often to be found in the lowest classes of this clear-witted people. For fifty years, he told us, he had been a shepherd, but now he was out of employ and destitute. " When I was a young man," said he, " nothing could harm or trouble me ; I was always well, always gay ; but now I am seventy-nine years of age, and a beggar, and my heart begins to fail me. ' ' Still he was not a regular mendicant : it was not until recently that want had driven him to this degradation ; and he gave a touching picture of the struggle between hunger and pride, when abject destitution first came upon him. He was returning from Malaga without money ; he had not tasted food for some time, and was crossing one of the great plains of Spain, where there were but few habitations. When almost dead with hunger, he applied at the door of a venta or country inn. ' ' Perdon ustedpor 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 {Tbe Blbambra hunger, for my heart was yet too proud. I came to a river with high banks, and deep, rapid current, and felt tempted to throw myself in : ' What should such an old, worthless, wretched man as I live for ? ' But when I was on the brink of the current, I thought on the blessed Virgin, and turned away. I travelled on until I saw a country-seat at a little distance from the road, and entered the outer gate of the courtyard. The door was shut, but there were two young senoras at a window. I ap- proached and begged ; ' Perdon usted por Dios hermano ! ' and the window closed. I crept out of the courtyard, but hunger overcame me, and my heart gave way : I thought my hour at hand, so I laid myself down at the gate, com- mended myself to the Holy Virgin, and covered my head to die. In a little while afterwards the master of the house came home : seeing me lying at his gate, he uncovered my head, had pity on my gray hairs, took me into his house, and gave me food. So, senors, you see that one should always put confidence in the pro- tection of the Virgin. ' ' The old man was on his way to his native place, Archidona, which was in full view on its steep and rugged mountain. He pointed to the ruins of its castle. ' ' That castle, ' ' he said, " was inhabited by a Moorish king at the time Ebe Journeg of the wars of Granada. Queen Isabella in- vaded it with a great arm}- ; but the king looked down from his castle among the clouds, and laughed her to scorn ! Upon this the Vir- gin appeared to the queen, and guided her and her army up a mysterious path in the moun- tains, which had never before been known, When the Moor saw her coming he was aston- ished, and springing with his horse from a precipice, was dashed to pieces ! .The marks of his horse's hoofs," said the old man, " are to be seen in the margin of the rock to this day. And see, sefiors, yonder is the road by which the queen and her army mounted : you see it like a ribbon up the mountain's side ; but the miracle is, that, though it can be seen at a dis- tance, when 3 r ou come near it disappears ! ' ' The ideal road to which he pointed was undoubtedly a sand}' ravine of the mountain, which looked narrow and defined at a distance, but became broad and indistinct on an approach. As the old man's heart warmed with wine and wassail, he went on to tell us a story of the buried treasure left under the castle by the Moorish king. His own house was next to the foundations of the castle. The curate and notary dreamed three times of the treasure, and went to work at the place pointed out in their dreams. His own son-in-law heard the sound 34 Blbambra of their pickaxes and spades at night. What they found, nobody knows ; they became sud- denly rich, but kept their own secret. Thus the old man had once been next door to fortune, but was doomed never to get under the same roof. I have remarked that the stories of treasure buried by the Moors, so popular throughout Spain, are most current among the poorest people. Kind nature consoles with shadows for the lack of substantials. The thirsty man dreams of fountains and running streams ; the hungry man of banquets ; and the poor man of heaps of hidden gold nothing certainly is more opulent than the imagination of a beggar. Our afternoon's ride took us through a steep and rugged defile of the mountains, called Puerte del Rey (the Pass of the King) ; being one of the great passes into the territories of Granada, and the one by which King Ferdi- nand conducted his army. Towards sunset the road, winding round a hill, brought us in sight of the famous little frontier city of Loxa, which repulsed Ferdinand from its walls. Its Arabic name implies guardian, and such it was to the vega of Granada, being one of its advanced guards. It was the stronghold of that fiery veteran, old Ali Atar, father-in-law of Boabdil ; and here it was that the latter Cbe Journeg 35 collected his troops, and sallied forth on that disastrous foray which ended in the death of the old alcayde and his own captivity. From its commanding position at the gate, as it were, of this mountain-pass, I/)xa has not unaptly been termed the key of Granada. It is wildly picturesque, built along the face of an arid mountain. The ruins of a Moorish alcazar or citadel crown a rocky mound which rises out of the centre of the town. The river Xenil washes its base, winding among rocks, and groves, and gardens, and meadows, and crossed by a Moorish bridge. Above the city all is savage and sterile, below is the richest vegeta- tion and the freshest verdure. A similar con- trast is presented by the river : above the bridge it is placid and grassy, reflecting groves and gardens ; below, it is rapid, noisy, and tumultuous. The Sierra Nevada, the royal mountains of Granada, crowned with perpetual snow, form the distant boundary to this varied landscape, one of the most characteristic of romantic Spain. Alighting at the entrance of the city, we gave our horses to Sancho to lead them to the inn, while we strolled about to enjoy the singular beauty of the environs. As we crossed the bridge to a fine alameda, or public walk, the bells tolled the hour of orison. At the Blbambra sound the wayfarers, whether on business or pleasure, paused, took off their hats, crossed themselves, and repeated their evening prayer a pious custom still rigidly observed in re- tired parts of Spain. Altogether, it was a solemn and beautiful evening scene, and we wandered on as the evening gradually closed, and the new moon began to glitter between the high elms of the alameda. We were roused from this quiet state of enjoyment by the voice of our trusty squire hailing us from a distance. He came up to us, out of breath. "Ah, senores" cried he, "d pobre Sancho no es nada sin Don Quixote." (Ah, senors, poor Sancho is nothing without Don Quixote.) He had been alarmed at our not coming to the inn ; Ix)xa was such a wild mountain place, full of contrabandistas, enchanters, and in- fiernos ; he did not well know what might have happened, and set out to seek us, in- quiring after us of every person he met, until he traced us across the bridge, and, to his great joy, caught sight of us strolling in the alameda. The inn to which he conducted us was called the Corona, or Crown, and we found it quite in keeping with the character of the place, the inhabitants of which seem still to retain the bold, fiery spirit of the olden time. The hostess Ube Bournes 37 was a young and handsome Andalusian widow, whose trim basqrdna of black silk, fringed 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 Andalusian majo and maja. He was tall, vigorous^ and well formed, with a clear olive complexion, a dark beaming eye, and curling chestnut whiskers that met under his chin. He was gallantly dressed in a short green velvet jacket, fitted to his shape, pro- fusely decorated with silver buttons, with a white handkerchief in each pocket. He had breeches of the same, with rows of buttons from the hips to the knees ; a pink silk hand- kerchief round his neck, gathered through a ring, on the bosom of a neatly -plaited shirt ; a sash round the waist to match ; bottinas, or spatterdashes, of the finest russet leather, elegantly worked, and open at the calf to show his stocking ; 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 con- 38 ttbe 2Ubambra versa tion with him. He was dressed in a similar style, and almost with equal finery ; a man about thirty, square-built, with strong Roman features, handsome, though slightly pitted with the small-pox ; with a free, bold, and somewhat daring air. His powerful black horse was decorated with tassels and fanciful trappings, and a couple of broad-mouthed blunderbusses hung behind the saddle. He had the air of one of those contrabandistas I have seen in the mountains of Ronda, and evidently had a good understanding with the brother of mine hostess ; nay, if I mistake not, he was a favored admirer of the widow. In fact, the whole inn and its inmates had some- thing of a contrabandista aspect, and a blun- derbuss stood in a corner beside the guitar. The horseman I have mentioned passed his evening in the posada, and sang several bold mountain romances with great spirit. As we were at supper, two poor Asturians put in, in distress, begging food and a night's lodging. They had been waylaid by robbers as they came from a fair among the mountains, robbed of a horse which carried all their stock in trade, stripped of their money and most of their apparel, beaten for having offered resistance, and left almost naked in the road. My com- panion, with a prompt generosity natural to him, ordered them a supper and a bed, and gave them a sum of money to help them forward towards their home. As the evening advanced, the dramatis per- sona thickened. A large man, about sixty years of age, of powerful frame, came strolling in, to gossip with mine hostess. He was dressed in the ordinary Andalusian costume, but had a huge sabre tucked under his arm ; wore large 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 I^oxa, famous for his prowess and the strength of his arm. In the time of the French invasion he surprised six troopers who were asleep ; he first secured their horses, then attacked them with his sabre, killed some, and took the rest prisoners. For this exploit the king allows him a peseta (the fifth of a duro, or dollar) per day, and has dignified him with the title of Don. I was amused to behold his swelling lan- guage and demeanor. He was evidently a thorough Andalusian, boastful as brave. His sabre was always in his hand or under his arm. He carries it always about with him as a child does its doll, calls it his Santa Teresa, and says, Cbc Blbambra ' ' When I draw it, the earth trembles ' ' (tiembla la tierra). I sat until a late hour listening to the varied themes of this motley group, who mingled to- gether with the unreserve of a Spanish posada. We had contrabandista songs, stories of rob- bers, guerrilla exploits, and Moorish legends. The last were from our handsome landlady, who gave a poetical account of the infiernos, or infernal regions of L,oxa, dark caverns, in which subterranean streams and waterfalls make a mysterious sound. The common peo- ple say that there are money-coiners shut up there from the time of the Moors, and that the Moorish kings kept their treasures in those caverns. I retired to bed with my imagination excited by all that I had seen and heard in this old warrior city. Scarce had I fallen asleep when I was aroused by a horrid din and uproar, that might have confounded the hero of L,a Mancha himself, whose experience of Spanish inns was a continual uproar. It seemed for a moment as if the Moors were once more breaking into the town, or the infiernos of which mine hostess talked had broken loose. I sallied forth, half dressed, to reconnoitre. It was nothing more nor less than a charivari to cele- brate the nuptials of an old man with a buxom vibe 3ourneg damsel. Wishing him joy of his bride and his serenade, I returned to my more quiet bed, and slept soundly until morning. While dressing, I amused myself in recon- noitring the populace from my window. There were groups of fine-looking young men in the trim fanciful Andalusian costume, with brown cloaks, thrown about them in true Spanish style, which cannot be imitated, and little round majo hats stuck on with a peculiar knowing air. They had the same galliard look which I have remarked among the dandy moun- taineers of Ronda. Indeed, all this part of Andalusia abounds with such game-looking characters. They loiter about the towns and villages, seem to have plenty of time and plenty of money, ' ' horse to ride and weapon to wear. ' ' Great gossips, great smokers, apt at touching the guitar, singing couplets to their maja belles, and famous dancers of the bolero. Throughout all Spain the men, however poor, have a gentlemanlike abundance of leisure, seeming to consider it the attribute of a true cavaliero never to be in a hurry ; but the An- dalusians are gay as well as leisurely, and have none of the squalid accompaniments of idle- ness. The adventurous contraband trade which prevails throughout these mountain regions, and along the maritime borders of Andalusia, Blbambra is doubtless at the bottom of this galliard character. In contrast to the costume of these groups was that of two long-legged Valencians con- ducting a donkey, laden with articles of mer- chandise, their musket slung crosswise over his back, ready for action. They wore round jackets (jalecos\ wide linen bragas or drawers scarce reaching to their knees and looking like kilts, red faj 'as or sashes swathed tightly round their waists, sandals of espartal or bass weed, colored kerchiefs round their heads somewhat in the style of turbans, but leaving the top of the head uncovered ; in short, their whole ap- pearance having much of the traditional Moor- ish stamp. On leaving L,oxa we were joined by a cava- lier, well mounted and well armed, and followed on foot by an escopetero or musketeer. He saluted us courteously, and soon let us into his quality. He was chief of the customs, or rather, I should suppose, chief of an armed company whose business it is to patrol the roads and look out for contrabandistas. The escopetero was one of his guards. In the course of our morning's ride I drew from him some particulars concerning the smugglers, who have risen to be a kind of mongrel chivalry in Spain. They come into Andalusia, he said, View of the Alhambra and the Sierra Nevada from the Church of San Nicolas, on the Albaicin, 3-ourneB from various parts, but especially from La Mancha ; sometimes to receive goods, to be smuggled on an appointed night across the line at the plaza or strand of Gibraltar ; sometimes to meet a vessel, which is to hover on a given night off a certain part of the coast. The}- keep together and travel in the night. In the daytime they lie quiet in barrancos, gullies of the mountains, or lonely farm-houses, where they are generally well received, as they make the family liberal presents of their smuggled wares. Indeed, much of the finery and trinkets worn by the wives and daughters of the moun- tain hamlets and farm-houses are presents from the gay and open-handed contrabandistas. Arrived at the part of the coast where a vessel is to meet them, they look out at night from some rocky point or headland. If they descry a sail near the shore they make a con- certed signal ; sometimes it consists in sud- denly displaying a lantern three times from beneath the folds of the cloak. If the signal is answered, they descend to the shore and pre- pare for quick work. The vessel runs close in ; all her boats are busy landing the smug- gled goods, made up into snug packages for transportation on horseback. These are hastily thrown on the beach, as hastily gathered up and packed on the horses, and then the contra- Blbambrn bandistas clatter off to the mountains. They travel by the roughest, wildest, and most solitary roads, where it is almost fruitless to pursue them. The custom-house guards do not attempt it : they take a different course. When they hear of one of these bands return- ing full freighted through the mountains, they go out in force, sometimes twelve infantry and eight horsemen, and take their station where the mountain defile opens into the plain. The infantry, who lie in ambush some distance within the defile, suffer the band to pass, then rise and fire upon them. The contrabandistas dash forward, but are met in front by the horsemen. A wild skirmish ensues. The con- trabandistas, if hard pressed, become desperate. Some dismount, use their horses as breast- works, and fire over their backs ; others cut the cords, let the packs fall off to delay the enemy, and endeavor to escape with their steeds. Some get off in this way with the loss of their packages ; some are taken, horses, packages, and all ; others abandon everything, and make their escape by scrambling up the mountains. "And then," cried Sancho, who had been listening with a greedy ear, ' ' se hacen ladrones legitimos" " and then they become legitimate robbers." I could not help laughing at Sancho' s idea 45 of a legitimate calling of the kind ; but the chief of customs told me it was really the case that the smugglers, when thus reduced to extremity, thought the)* had a kind of right to take the road, and lay travellers under contribution, until they had collected funds enough to mount and equip themselves in contrabandista style. Towards noon our wayfaring companion took leave of us and turned up a steep defile, followed by his escopetero ; and shortly after- wards we emerged from the mountains, and entered upon the far-famed vega of Granada. Our last mid-day's repast was taken under a grove of olive trees en the border of a rivulet. We were in a classical neighborhood ; for not far off were the groves and orchards of the Soto de Roma. This, according to fabulous tradition, was a retreat founded by Count Julian to console his daughter Florinda. It was a rural resort of the Moorish kings of Granada ; and has in modern times been granted to the Duke of Wellington. Our worthy squire made a half melancholy face as he drew forth, for the last time, the contents of his alforjas, lamenting that our expedition was drawing to a close, for, with such cavaliers, he said, he could travel to the world's end. Our repast, however, was a gay Blbambra one ; made under such delightful auspices. The day was without a cloud. The heat of the sun was tempered by cool breezes from the mountains. Before us extended the glorious Vega. In the distance was romantic Granada surmounted by the ruddy towers of the Alham- bra, while far above it the snowy summits of the Sierra Nevada shone like silver. Our repast finished, we spread our cloaks and took our last siesta al fresco, lulled by the humming of bees among the flowers and the notes of doves among the olive trees. When the sultry hours were passed we resumed our journey. After a time we overtook a pursy little man, shaped not unlike a toad, and mounted on a mule. He fell into conversation with Sancho, and, finding we were strangers, undertook to guide us to a good posada. He was an escribano (notary), he said, and knew the city as thoroughly as his own pocket. " Ah, dios senores ! what a city you are going to see. Such streets ! such squares ! such pal- aces ! and then the women ah, Santa Maria purisima what women ! " " But the posada you talk of," said I, " are you sure it is a good one ? ' ' " Good ! Santa Maria ! the best in Granada. Salones grandes camas de luxo colchones de pluma (grand saloons luxurious sleeping- ttbe 47 rooms beds of down). Ah, senores, you will fare like King Chico in the Alhambra. ' ' ' ' And how will my horses fare ? ' ' cried Sancho. " I,ike King Chico' s horses. Chocolate con leche y bollos para almuerza ' ' (chocolate and milk with sugar cakes for breakfast), giving the squire a knowing wink and a leer. After such satisfactory accounts, nothing more was to be desired on that head. So we rode quietly on, the squab little notary taking the lead, and turning to us every moment with some fresh exclamation about the grandeurs of Granada and the famous times we were to have at the posada. Thus escorted, we passed between hedges of aloes and Indian figs, and through that wilder- ness of gardens with which the Vega is em- broidered, and arrived about sunset at the gates of the city. Our officious little conductor conveyed us up one street and down another, until he rode into the courtyard of an inn where he appeared to be perfectly at home. Summoning the landlord by his Christian name, he committed us to his care as two cavalleros de mucho valor, worthy of his best apartments and most sumptuous fare. We were instantly reminded of the patronizing stranger who introduced Gil Bias with such a aibambra flourish of trumpets to the host and hostess of the inn at Pennaflor, ordering trouts for his supper, and eating voraciously at his expense. ' ' You know not what you possess, ' ' cried he to the innkeeper and his wife. ' ' You have a treasure in your house." Behold in this young gentleman the eighth wonder of the world nothing in this house is too good for Sefior Gil Bias of Santillane, who deserves to be enter- tained like a prince. ' ' Determined that the little notary should not eat trouts at our expense, like his prototype of Pennaflor, we forbore to ask him to supper ; nor had we reason to reproach ourselves with ingratitude, for we found before morning the little varlet, who was no doubt a good friend of the landlord, had decoyed us into one of the shabbiest posadas in Granada. palace of tbe Hlbambra. TO the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and poetical, so inseparably intertwined in the annals of romantic Spain, the Alhambra is as much an object of devotion as is the Caaba to all true Moslems. How many legends and traditions, true and fabulous, how many songs and ballads, Ara- bian and Spanish, of love and war and chiv- alry, are associated with this Oriental pile ! It was the royal abode of the Moorish kings, where, surrounded with the splendors and re- finements of Asiatic luxury, they held domin- ion over what they vaunted as a terrestrial paradise, and made their last stand for empire in Spain. The royal palace forms but a part of a fortress, the walls of which, studded with towers, stretch irregularly round the whole crest of a hill, a spur of the Sierra Nevada or Snowy Mountains, and overlook the city ; ex- ternally it is a rude congregation of towers and battlements, with no regularity of plan nor I ^.v I Blbambra grace of architecture, and giving little promise of the grace and beauty which prevail within. In the time of the Moors the fortress was capable of containing within its outward pre- cincts an army of forty thousand men, and served occasionally as a stronghold of the sov- ereigns against their rebellious subjects. After the kingdom had passed into the hands of the Christians, the Alhambra continued to be a royal demesne, and was occasionally inhabited by the Castilian monarchs. The emperor Charles V. commenced a sumptuous palace within its walls, but was deterred from com- pleting it by repeated shocks of earthquakes. The last royal residents were Philip V. and his beautiful queen, Elizabetta of Parma, early in the eighteenth century. Great preparations were made for their reception. The palace and gardens were placed in a state of repair, and a new suite of apartments erected, and decorated by artists brought from Italy. The sojourn of the sovereigns was transient, and after their departure the palace once more be- came desolate. Still the place was maintained with some military state. The governor held it immediately from the crown, its jurisdiction extended down into the suburbs of the city, and was independent of the captain-general of Granada. A considerable garrison was kept Section of Decorated Ceiling in Palace of the Alhambra. palace of tbc Blbambra up ; the governor had his apartments in the front of the old Moorish palace, and never de- scended into Granada without some military parade. The fortress, in fact, was a little town of itself, having several streets of houses within its walls, together with a Franciscan convent and a parochial church. The desertion of the court, however, was a fatal blow to the Alhambra. Its beautiful halls became desolate, and some of them fell to ruin ; the gardens were destroyed, and the fountains ceased to play. By degrees the dwellings became filled with a loose and law- less population : contrabandistas> who availed themselves of its independent jurisdiction to carry on a wide and daring course of smug- gling, and thieves and rogues of all sorts, who made this their place of refuge whence they might depredate upon Granada and its vicinity. The strong arm of government at length inter- fered ; 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 hamlet left, with the parochial church and the Fran- ciscan convent. During the recent troubles in Spain, when Granada was in the hands of the French, the Alhambra was garrisoned by their Blbambra troops, and the palace was occasionally inhabi- ted by the French commander. With that en- lightened taste which has ever distinguished the French nation in their conquests, this monument of Moorish elegance and grandeur was rescued from the absolute ruin and desola- tion that were overwhelming it. The roofs were repaired, the saloons and galleries pro- tected from the weather, the gardens cultivated, the watercourses restored, the fountains once more made to throw up their sparkling show- ers ; and Spain may thank her invaders for having preserved to her the most beautiful and interesting of her historical monuments. On the departure of the French they blew up several towers of the outer wall, and left the fortifications scarcely tenable. Since that time the military importance of the post is at an end. The garrison is a handful of invalid soldiers, whose principal duty is to guard some of the outer towers, which serve occasionally as a prison of state ; and the governor, abandoning the lofty hill of the Alhambra, resides in the centre of Granada, for the more convenient de- spatch of his official duties. I cannot conclude this brief notice of the state of the fortress with- out bearing testimony to the honorable exer- tions of its present commander, Don Francisco de Serna, who is tasking all the limited re- palace of tbe Blbambra 53 sources at his command to put the palace in a state of repair, and by his judicious precautions has for some time arrested its too certain decay. Had his predecessors discharged the duties of their station with equal fidelity, the Alhambra might yet have remained in almost its pristine beauty ; were government to second him with means equal to his zeal, this relic of it might still be preserved for many generations to adorn the land, and attract the curious and enlight- ened of every clime. Our first object, of course, on the morning after our arrival, was a visit to this time-honored edifice ; it has been so often, however, and so minutely described by travellers, that I shall not undertake to give a comprehensive and elaborate account of it, but merely occasional sketches of parts, with the incidents and asso- ciations connected with them. leaving our posada, and traversing the re- nowned square of the Vivarrambla, once the scene of Moorish jousts and tournaments, now a crowded market-place, we proceeded along the Zacatin, the main street of what, in the time of the Moors, was the Great Bazaar, and where small shops and narrow alleys still retain the Oriental character. Crossing an open place in front of the palace of the captain-general, we ascended a confined and winding street, the Blbambra 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 the Puerta de las Granadas, a massive gateway of Grecian architecture, built by Charles V., forming the entrance to the do- mains of the Alhambra. At the gate were two or three ragged super- annuated soldiers, dozing on a stone bench, the successors of the Zegris and the Abencerrages ; while a tall, meagre varlet, whose rusty -brown cloak was evidently intended to conceal the ragged state of his nether garments, was loun- ging in the sunshine and gossiping with an ancient sentinel on duty. He joined us as we entered the gate, and offered his services to show us the fortress. I have a traveller's dislike to officious cice- roni, and did not altogether like the garb of the applicant. ' ' You are well acquainted with the place, I presume ? ' ' ' ' Ninguno mas ; flues, senor, soy hijo de la Alhambra:' (Nobody better ; in fact, sir, I am a son of the Alhambra !) The common Spaniards have certainly a most poetic way of expressing themselves. ' ' A son of the Alhambra ! ' ' the appellation caught me palace of tbe Slbambra 55 at once ; the very tattered garb of my new ac- quaintance assumed a dignity in my eyes. It was emblematic of the fortunes of the place, and befitted the progeny of a ruin. I put some further questions to him, and found that his title was legitimate. His family had lived in the fortress from generation to generation ever since the time of the Conquest. His name was Mateo Ximenes. ' ' Then, per- haps," said I, "you may be a descendant from the great Cardinal Ximenes ? " " Dios sabe ! God knows, seiior ! It may be so. We are the oldest family in the Alhambra, Christianos viefos, old Christians, without any taint of Moor or Jew. I know we belong to some great family or other, but I forget whom. My father knows all about it ; he has the coat-of-arms hanging up in his cottage, up in the fortress. ' ' There is not any Spaniard, however poor, but has some claim to high pedigree. The first title of this ragged worthy, however, had com- pletely captivated me, so I gladly accepted the services of the ' ' son of the Alhambra. ' ' We now found ourselves in a deep, narrow ravine, filled with beautiful groves, with a steep avenue, and various footpaths winding through it, bordered with stone seats, and ornamented with fountains. To our left we beheld the towers of the Alhambra beetling above us ; to Blbambra 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 towers, so called from their ruddy hue. No one knows their origin. They are of a date much anterior to the Alhambra : some suppose them to have been built by the Romans ; others, by some wandering colony of Phoenicians. Ascending the steep and shady avenue, we arrived at the foot of a huge square Moorish tower, forming a kind of barbican, through which passed the main entrance to the fortress. Within the barbican was another group of veteran invalids, one mounting guard at the portal, while the rest, wrapped in their tattered cloaks, slept on the stone benches. This portal is called the Gate of Justice, from the tribunal held within its porch during the Moslem domination, for the immediate trial of petty causes a custom common to the Oriental nations, and occa- sionally alluded to in the sacred Scriptures. "Judges and officers shalt thou make thee in all thy gates, and they shall judge the people with just judgment. ' ' The great vestibule, or porch of the gate, is formed by an immense Arabian arch, of the horseshoe form, which springs to half the height of the tower. On the keystone of this arch is Forest of Elm Trees outside the Walls of the Alhambra. palace of tbe Blbambra 57 engraven a gigantic hand. Within the vesti- bule, on the keystone of the portal, is sculp- tured, in like manner, a gigantic key. Those who pretend to some knowledge of Mohamme- dan symbols affirm that the hand is the emblem of doctrine, the five fingers designating the five principal commandments of the creed of Islam, fasting, pilgrimage, almsgiving, ablution, and war against infidels. The key, say they, is the emblem of the faith or of power ; the key of Daoud, or David, transmitted to the prophet. " And the key of the house of David will I lay upon his shoulder ; so he shall open and none shall shut, and he shall shut and none shall open." (Isaiah xxii., 22.) The key we are told was emblazoned on the standard of the Moslems in opposition to the Christian emblem of the cross, when they subdued Spain or An- dalusia. It betokened the conquering power invested in the prophet. "He that hath the key of David, he that openeth and no man shutteth ; and shutteth and no man openeth." (Rev. iii., 7.) A different explanation of these emblems, however, was given by the legitimate son of the Alhambra, and one more in unison with the notions of the common people, who attach something of mystery and magic to everything Moorish, and have all kinds of superstitions Blbambra connected with this old Moslem fortress. Ac- cording to Mateo, it was a tradition handed down from the oldest inhabitants, and which he had from his father and grandfather, that the hand and key were magical devices on which the fate of the Alhambra depended. The Moorish king who built it was a great magician, or, as some believed, had sold him- self to the devil, and had laid the whole fortress under a magic spell. By this means it had remained standing for several years, in defiance of storms and earthquakes, while almost all other buildings of the Moors had fallen to ruin and disappeared. This spell, the tradition went on to say, would last until the hand on the outer arch should reach down and grasp the key, when the whole pile would tumble to pieces, and all the treasures buried beneath it by the Moors would be revealed. Notwithstanding this ominous prediction, we ventured to pass through the spellbound gate- way, feeling some little assurance against magic art in the protection of the Virgin, a statue of whom we observed above the portal. After passing through the barbican, we as- cended 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 palace of tbe Blbambra 59 which undermine it, cut in the living rock by the Moors to receive the water brought by con- duits from the Darro, for the supply of the fortress. Here, also, is a well of immense depth, furnishing the purest and coldest of water, another monument of the delicate taste of the Moors, who were indefatigable in their exertions to obtain that element in its crystal purity. In front of this esplanade is the splendid pile commenced by Charles V., and intended, it is said, to eclipse the residence of the Moorish kings. Much of the Oriental edifice intended for the winter season was demolished to make way for this massive pile. The grand entrance was blocked up, so that the present entrance to the Moorish palace is through a simple and almost humble portal in a corner. With all the massive grandeur and architectural merit of the palace of Charles V., we regarded it as an arrogant intruder, and, passing by it with a feeling almost of scorn, rang at the Moslem portal. While waiting for admittance, our self-im- posed cicerone, Mateo Ximenes, informed us that the royal palace was entrusted to the care of a worthy old maiden dame called Dona Antonia-Molina, but who, according to Spanish custom, went by the more neighborly appella- 6o Slbambra tion of Tia Antonia (Aunt Antonia), who maintained the Moorish halls and gardens in order and showed them to strangers. While we were talking, the door was opened by a plump little black-eyed Andalusian damsel, whom Mateo addressed as Dolores, but who, from her bright looks and cheerful disposition, evidently merited a merrier name. Mateo in- formed me in a whisper that she was the niece of Tia Antonia, and I found she was the good fairy who was to conduct us through the en- chanted palace. Under her guidance we crossed the threshold, and were at once transported, as if by magic wand, into other times and an Oriental realm, and were treading the scenes of Arabian story. Nothing could be in greater contrast than the unpromising exterior of the pile with the scene now before us. We found ourselves in a vast patio or court, one hundred and fifty feet in length, and upwards of eighty feet in breadth, paved with white marble, and decorated at each end with light Moorish peristyles, one of which supported an elegant gallery of fretted architecture. Along the mouldings of the cornices and on various parts of the walls were escutcheons and ciphers, and cufic and Arabic characters in high relief, repeating the pious mottoes of the Moslem monarchs, the builders of the Alhambra, or palace of tbc Blbambra extolling their grandeur and munificence. Along the centre of the court extended an im- mense basin or tank (estanque, ) a hundred and twenty-four feet in length, twenty-seven in breadth, and five in depth, receiving its water from two marble vases. Hence it is called the Court of the Alberca (from al beerkah, the Arabic for a pond or tank). Great numbers of gold-fish were to be seen gleaming through the waters of the basin, and it was bordered by hedges of roses. Passing from the Court of the Alberca under a Moorish archway, we entered the renowned Court of Lions. No part of the edifice gives a more complete idea of its original beauty than this, for none has suffered so little from the ravages of time. In the centre stands the foun- tain famous in song and story. The alabaster basins still shed their diamond drops ; the twelve lions which support them, and give the court its name, still cast forth crystal streams as in the days of Boabdil. The lions, however, are unworthy of their fame, being of miserable sculpture, the work probably of some Christian captive. The court is laid out in flower-beds, instead of its ancient and appro- priate pavement of tiles or marble ; the altera- tion, an instance of bad taste, was made by the French when in possession of Granada. Round 62 aibambra the four sides of the court are light Arabian arcades of open filigree work, supported by slender pillars of white marble, which it is supposed were originally gilded. The archi- tecture, like that in most parts of the interior of the palace, is characterized by elegance rather than grandeur, bespeaking a delicate and graceful taste, and a disposition to indolent enjoyment. When one looks upon the fairy traces of the peristyles, and the apparently fragile fretwork of the walls, it is difficult to believe that so much has survived the wear and tear of centuries, the shocks of earthquakes, the violence of war, and the quiet, though no less baneful, pilferings of the tasteful traveller : it is almost sufficient to excuse the popular tradition that the whole is protected by a magic charm. On one side of the court a rich portal opens into the Hall of the Abencerrages : so called from the gallant cavaliers of that illustrious line who were here perfidiously massacred. There are some who doubt the whole story, but our humble cicerone Mateo pointed out the very wicket of the portal through which they were introduced one by one into the Court of L,ions, and the white marble fountain in the centre of the hall beside which they were be- headed. He showed us also certain broad palace of tbe Blbambra ruddy stains on the pavement, traces of their blood, which, according to popular belief, can never be effaced . Finding we listened to him apparently with easy faith, he added, that there was often heard at night, in the Court of Lions, a low confused sound, resembling the murmuring of a multi- tude, and now and then a faint tinkling, like the distant clank of chains. These sounds were made by the spirits of the murdered Abencerrages ; who nightly haunt the scene of their suffering and invoke the vengeance of Heaven on their destroyer. The sounds in question had no doubt been produced, as I had afterwards an opportunity of ascertaining, by the bubbling currents and tinkling falls of water conducted under the pavement through pipes and channels to sup- ply the fountains ; but I was too considerate to intimate such an idea to the humble chronicler of the Alhambra. Encouraged by my easy credulity, Mateo gave me the following as an undoubted fact, which he had from his grandfather : There was once an invalid soldier, who had charge of the Alhambra to show it to strangers ; as he was one evening, about twilight, passing through the Court of Lions, he heard footsteps on the Hall of the Abencerrages ; supposing Slbambra some strangers to be lingering there, he ad- vanced to attend upon them, when to his aston- ishment he beheld four Moors richly dressed, with gilded cuirasses and cimeters, 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 after- wards be prevailed upon to enter the Alham- bra. Thus it is that men sometimes turn their backs upon fortune ; for it is the firm opinion of Mateo, that the Moors intended to reveal the place where their treasures lay buried. A suc- cessor to the invalid soldier was more know- ing ; he came to the Alhambra poor ; but at the end of a year went off to Malaga, bought houses, set up a carriage, and still lives there, one of the richest as well as oldest men of the place ; all which, Mateo sagely surmised, was in consequence of his finding out the golden secret of these phantom Moors. I now perceived I had made an invaluable acquaintance in this son of the Alhambra, one who knew all the apocryphal history of the place, and firmly believed in it, and whose memory was stuffed with a kind of knowledge for which I have a lurking fancy, but which is too apt to be considered rubbish by less indulgent philosophers. I determined to cul- palace of tbe Blbambra tivate the acquaintance of this learned The- ban. Immediately opposite the Hall of the Aben- cerrages, a portal, richly adorned, leads into a hall of less tragical associations. It is light and lofty, exquisitely graceful in its architec- ture, paved with white marble, and bears the suggestive name of the Hall of the Two Sisters. Some destroy the romance of the name by at- tributing it to two enormous slabs of alabaster which lie side by side, and form a great part of the pavement : an opinion strongly supported by Mateo Ximenes. Others are disposed to give the name a more poetical significance, as the vague memorial of Moorish beauties who once graced this hall, which was evidently a part of the royal harem. This opinion I was happy to find entertained by our little bright- eyed guide, Dolores, who pointed to a balcony over an inner porch, which gallery, she had been told, belonged to the women's apartment. " You see, senor," said she, "it is all grated and latticed, like the gallery in a convent chapel where the nuns hear mass ; for the Moorish kings," added she, indignantly, " shut up their wives just like nuns." The latticed "jalousies," in fact, still re- main, whence the dark-eyed beauties of the harem might gaze unseen upon the zambras 66 Slbambra and other dances and entertainments of the hall below. On each side of this hall are recesses or al- coves for ottomans and couches, on which the voluptuous lords of the Alhambra indulged in that dreamy repose so dear to the Orientalists. A cupola or lantern admits a tempered light from above and a free circulation of air ; while on one side is heard the refreshing sound of waters from the Fountain of the Lions, and on the other side the soft plash from the basin in the garden of L,indaraxa. It is impossible to contemplate this scene, so perfectly Oriental, without feeling the early associations of Arabian romance, and almost expecting to see the white arm of some mys- terious princess beckoning from the gallery, or some dark eye sparkling through the lattice. The abode of beauty is here as if it had been inhabited but yesterday ; but where are the two sisters, where the Zoraydas and L,indaraxas ! An abundant supply of water, brought from the mountains by old Moorish aqueducts, cir- culates throughout the palace, supplying its baths and fish-pools, sparkling in jets within its halls or murmuring in channels along the marble pavements. When it has paid its tribute to the royal pile, and visited its gardens and parterres, it flows down the long avenue palace of tbe Blbambra 67 leading to the city, tinkling in rills, gushing in fountains, and maintaining a perpetual verdure in those groves that embower and beautify the whole hill of the Alhambra. Those only who have sojourned in the ardent climates of the South can appreciate the de- lights of an abode combining the breezy cool- ness of the mountain with the freshness and verdure of the valley. While the city below pants with the noontide heat, and the parched Vega trembles to the eye, the delicate airs from the Sierra Nevada play through these lofty halls, bringing with them the sweetness of the surrounding gardens. Everything in- vites to that indolent repose, the bliss of south- ern climes ; and while the half-shut eye looks out from shaded balconies upon the glittering landscape, the ear is lulled by the rustling of groves and the murmur of running streams. I forbear for the present, however, to describe the other delightful apartments of the palace. My object is merely to give the reader a gen- eral introduction into an abode where, if so disposed, he may linger and loiter with me day by day until we gradually become familiar with all its localities. 68 Blbambra NOTE ON MORISCO ARCHITECTURE. To an unpractised eye the light relievos and fanciful arabesques which cover the walls of the Alhambra appear to have been sculptured by the hand, with a minute and patient labor, an inexhaustible variety of detail, yet a general uniformity and harmony of design truly astonishing ; and this may especially be said of the vaults and cupolas, which are wrought like honey- combs, or frostwork, with stalactites and pendants which confound the beholder with the seeming in- tricacy of their patterns. The astonishment ceases, however, when it is discovered that this is all stucco- work ; plates of plaster of Paris, cast in moulds and skilfully joined so as to form patterns of every size and form. This mode of diapering walls with ara- besques, and stuccoing the vaults with grotto-work, was invented in Damascus, but highly improved by the Moors in Morocco, to whom Saracenic architecture owes its most graceful and fanciful details. The pro- cess by which all this fairy tracery was produced was ingeniously simple. The wall in its naked state was divided off by lines crossing at right angles, such as artists use in copying a picture ; over these were drawn a succession of intersecting segments of circles. By the aid of these the artists could work with celerity and certainty, and from the mere intersection of the plain and curved lines arose the interminable va- riety of patterns and the general uniformity of their character.* Much gilding was used in the stucco-work, espe- cially of the cupolas ; and the interstices were deli- * See Urquhart's " Pillars of Hercules," b. iii., c. 8. Court of the Myrtles (Arrayanes) or Basin (Alberca), or, more correctly, Berkah (Blessing}. palace of tbc 2Ubamt>ra 6 9 cately pencilled with brilliant colors, such as vermilion and lapis lazuli, laid on with the whites of eggs. The primitive colors alone were used, says Ford, by the Egyptians, Greeks, and Arabs, in the early period of art ; and they prevail in the Alhambra whenever the artist has been Arabic or Moorish. It is remarkable how much of their original brilliancy remains after the lapse of several centuries. The lower part of the walls in the saloons, to the height of several feet, is incrusted with glazed tiles, joined like the plates of stucco-work, so as to form various patterns. On some of them are emblazoned the escutcheons of the Moslem kings, traversed with a band and motto. These glazed tiles (aztilejos in Spanish, az-zulaj in Arabic) are of Oriental origin ; their coolness, cleanliness, and freedom from vermin render them admirably fitted in sultry climates for paving halls and fountains, incrusting bathing-rooms, and lining the walls of chambers. Ford is inclined to give them great antiquity. From their prevailing colors, sapphire and blue, he deduces that they may have formed the kind of pavements alluded to in the sacred Scriptures : " There was under his feet as it were a paved work of a sapphire stone " (Exod. xxiv., 10) ; and again, "Behold I will lay thy stones with fair colors, and lay thy foundations with sapphires " (Isaiah liv., n). These glazed or porcelain tiles were introduced into Spain at an early date by the Moslems. Some are to be seen among the Moorish ruins which have been there upwards of eight centuries. Manufactures of them still exist in the Peninsula, and they are much used in the best Spanish houses, especially in the southern provinces, for paving and lining the summer apartments. The Spaniards introduced them into the Netherlands when they had possession of that country. The peo- ple of Holland adopted them with avidity, as wonder- fully suited to their passion for household cleanliness; and thus these Oriental inventions, the azulejos of the Spanish, the az-zulaj of the Arabs, have come to be commonly known as Dutch tiles. (Important Ifteaotiations. Ube Hutbor Succeeos to tbe TEbrone of BoaboU. THE day was nearly spent before we could tear ourself from this region of poetry and romance to descend to the city and return to the forlorn realities of a Spanish Posada. In a visit of ceremony to the Gov- ernor of the Alhambra, to whom we had brought letters, we dwelt with enthusiasm on the scenes we had witnessed, and could not but express surprise that he should reside in the city when he had such a paradise at his command. He pleaded the inconvenience of a residence in the palace from its situation on the crest of a hill, distant from the seat of business and the resorts of social intercourse. It did very well for monarchs, who often had need of castle walls to defend them from their own subjects. " But, senors," added he, smil- ing, " if you think a residence there so desira- ble, my apartments in the Alhambra are at your service." 72 Ube Slbambra It is a common and almost indispensable point of politeness in a Spaniard, to tell you his house is yours. " Rsta casa es siempre a la disposicion de Vm. " " This house is always at the command of your Grace. ' ' In fact, any- thing of his which you admire, is immediately offered to you. It is equally a mark of good breeding in you not to accept it ; so we merely bowed our acknowledgments of the courtesy of the Governor in offering us a royal palace. We were mistaken, however. The Governor was in earnest. " You will find a rambling set of empty, unfurnished rooms, ' ' said he ; ' ' but Tia Antonia, who has charge of the palace, may be able to put them in some kind of order, and to take care of you while you are there. If you can make any arrangement with her for your accommodation, and are content with scanty fare in a royal abode, the palace of King Chico is at your service." We took the Governor at his word, and hastened up the steep Calle de los Gomeres, and through the Great Gate of Justice, to negotiate with Dame Antonia, doubting at times if this were not a dream, and fearing at times that the sage Duena of the fortress might be slow to capitulate. We knew we had one friend at least in the garrison who would be in our favor, the bright-eyed little Important negotiations 73 Dolores, whose good graces we had propitiated on our first visit, and who hailed our return to the palace with her brightest looks. All, however, went smoothly. The good Tia Antonia had a little furniture to put in the rooms, but it was of the commonest kind. We assured her we could bivouac on the floor. She could supply our table, but only in her own simple way ; we wanted nothing better. Her niece, Dolores, would wait upon us ; and at the word we threw up our hats and the bargain was complete. The very next day we took up our abode in the palace, and never did sovereigns share a divided throne with more perfect harmony. Several days passed by like a dream, when my worthy associate, being summoned to Madrid on diplomatic duties, was compelled to abdi- cate, leaving me sole monarch of this shadowy realm. For myself, being in a manner a hap- hazard loiterer about the world, and prone to linger in its pleasant places, here have I been suffering day by day to steal away unheeded, spellbound, for aught I know, in this old en- chanted pile. Having always a companionable feeling for my reader, and being prone to live with him on confidential terms, I shall make it a point to communicate to him my reveries and researches during this state of delicious thral- 74 Blbambra dom. If they have the power of imparting to his imagination any of the witching charms of the place, he will not repine at lingering with me for a season in the legendary halls of the Alhambra. And first it is proper to give him some idea of my domestic arrangements ; they are rather of a simple kind for the occupant of a regal palace ; but I trust they will be less liable to disastrous reverses than those of my royal predecessors. My quarters are at one end of the Governor's apartment, a suite of empty chambers, in front of the palace, looking out upon the great espla- nade called la Plaza de los Algibes (the Place of the Cisterns); the apartment is modern, but the end opposite to my sleeping-room communi- cates with a cluster of little chambers, partly Moorish, partly Spanish, allotted to the chdte- laine Dona Antonia and her family. In con- sideration of keeping the palace in order, the good dame is allowed all the perquisites re- ceived from visitors, and all the produce of the gardens, excepting that she is expected to pay an occasional tribute of fruits and flowers to the Governor. Her family consists of a nephew and niece, the children of two different brothers. The nephew, Manuel Molina, is a young man of sterling worth and Spanish gravity. He flmportant "Negotiations 75 had served in the army, both in Spain and the West Indies, but is now studying medicine in the hope of one day or other becoming physi- cian to the fortress, a post worth at least one hundred and forty dollars a year. The niece is the plump little black-eyed Dolores already mentioned, and who, it is said, will one day in- herit all her aunt's possessions, consisting of certain petty tenements in the fortress, in a somewhat ruinous condition it is true, but which, I am privately assured by Mateo Ximenes, yield a revenue of nearly one hun- dred and fifty dollars ; so that she is quite an heiress in the eyes of the ragged son of the Al- hambra. I am also informed by the same observant and authentic personage, that a quiet courtship is going on between the discreet Manuel and his bright-eyed cousin, and that nothing is wanting to enable them to join their hands and expectations but his doctor's di- ploma, and a dispensation from the Pope on account of their consanguinity. The good dame Antonia fulfils faithfully her contract in regard to my board and lodging, and as I am easily pleased I find my fare excel- lent ; while the merry-hearted little Dolores keeps my apartment in order, and officiates as handmaid at meal -times I have also at my command a tall, stuttering, yellow-haired lad, Blbambra named Pepe, who works in the gardens, and would fain have acted as valet, but in this he was forestalled by Mateo Ximenes, the "son of the Alhambra." This alert and officious wight has managed, somehow or other, to stick by me ever since I first encountered him at the outer gate of the fortress, and to weave himself into all my plans, until he has fairly appointed and installed himself my valet, cicerone, guide, guard, and historiographic squire, and I have been obliged to improve the state of his ward- robe, that he may not disgrace his various functions ; so that he has cast his old brown mantle, as a snake does his skin, and now ap- pears about the fortress with a smart Anda- lusian 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 'sends to devise modes of making himself important to my welfare. I am in a manner the victim of his officiousness ; I cannot put my foot over the threshold of the palace, to stroll about the fortress, but he is at my elbow, to explain everything I see ; and if I venture to ramble among the surrounding hills, he insists upon attending me as a guard, m Important negotiations 77 though I vehemently suspect he would be more apt to trust to the length of his legs than the strength of his arms, in case of attack. After all, however, the poor fellow is at times an amusing companion ; he is simple-minded and of infinite good humor, with the loquacity and gossip of a village barber, and knows all the small-talk of the place and its environs ; but what he chiefly values himself on is his stock of local information, having the most marvel- lous stories to relate of every tower, and vault, and gateway of the fortress, in all of which he places the most implicit faith. Most of these he has derived, according to his own account, from his grandfather, a little legendary tailor, who lived to the age of nearly a hundred years, during which he made but two migrations beyond the precincts of the fortress. His shop, for the greater part of a century, was the resort of a knot of venerable gossips, where they would pass half the night talking about old times, and the wonderful events and hidden secrets of the place. The whole living, moving, thinking, and acting of this historical little tailor had thus been bounded by the walls of the Alhambra ; within them he had been born, within them he lived, breathed, and had his being ; within them he died and was buried. Fortunately for posterity his tra- SIbambra ditionary lore died not with him. The authen- tic Mateo, when an urchin, used to be an attentive listener to the narratives of .his grand- father, and of the gossiping group assembled round the shopboard, and is thus possessed of a stock of valuable knowledge concerning the Alhambra, not to be found in books, and well worthy the attention of every curious traveller. Such are the personages that constitute my regal household ; and I question whether any of the potentates, Moslem or Christian, who have preceded me in the palace, have been waited upon with greater fidelity, or enjoyed a serener sway. When I rise in the morning, Pepe, the stut- tering 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 a feminine pride in the decoration of my chambers. My meals are made wherever caprice dictates ; sometimes in one of the Moor- ish halls, sometimes under the arcades of the Court of lyions, surrounded by flowers and fountains ; and when I walk out I am con- ducted by the assiduous Mateo to the most romantic retreats of the mountains, and de- licious haunts of the adjacent valleys, not one of which but is the scene of some wonderful tale. important negotiations 79 Though fond of passing the greater part of my day alone, yet I occasionally repair in the evenings to the little domestic circle of Doiia Antonia. This is generally held in an old Moorish chamber, which serves the good dame for parlor, kitchen, and hall of audience, and which must have boasted of some splendor in the time of the Moors, if we may judge from the traces yet remaining ; but a rude fireplace has been made in modern times in one corner, the smoke from which has discolored the walls and almost obliterated the ancient arabesques. A window, with a balcony overhanging the valley of the Darro, lets in the cool evening breeze ; and here I take my frugal supper of fruit and milk, and mingle with the conversa- tion of the family. There is a natural talent or mother-wit, as it is called, about the Spaniards, which renders them intellectual and agreeable companions, whatever may be their condition in life, or however imperfect may have been their education ; add to this, they are never vulgar ; nature has endowed them with an in- herent dignity of spirit. The good Tia An- tonia 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, 8o Slbambra and often surprises me by the pungency of her artless sallies. Sometimes the nephew enter- tains us by reading some old comedy of Calde- ron or Lope de Vega, to which he is evidently prompted by a 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. Some- times Tia Antonia has a little levee of humble friends and dependants, the inhabitants of the adjacent hamlet, or the wives of the invalid soldiers. These look up to her with great deference, as the custodian of the palace, and pay their court to her by bringing the news of the place, or the rumors that may have strag- gled up from Granada. In listening to these evening gossipings I have picked up many curious facts illustrative of the manners of the people and the peculiarities of the neighbor- hood. These are simple details of simple pleasures ; it is the nature of the place alone that gives them interest and importance. I tread haunted ground, and am surrounded by romantic asso- ciations. From earliest boyhood, when, on the banks of the Hudson, I first pored over the pages of old Gines Perez de Hytas' apocryphal but chivalresque history of the civil wars of Granada, and the feuds of its gallant cavaliers, Important "Negotiations the Zegries and Abencerrages, that city has ever been a subject of my waking dreams ; and often have I trod in fancy the romantic halls of the Alhambra. Behold for once a day-dream realized ; yet I can scarce credit my senses, or believe that I do indeed inhabit the palace of Boabdil, and look down from its balconies upon chivalric Granada. As I loiter through these Oriental chambers, and hear the murmur of fountains and the song of the nightingale ; as I inhale the odor of the rose, and feel the influ- ence 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 houries, destined to administer to the happiness of true believers. ^ss^s Unbabitants of tbe Hlbambra. I HAVE often observed that the more proudly a mansion has been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its inhabitants in the day of its decline, and that the palace of a king commonly ends in being the nestling-place of the beggar. The Alhambra 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 loopholes. I have amused myself with remarking some of the motley characters that have thus usurped the ancient abode of royalty, and who seem as if placed here to give a farcical termi- nation to the drama of human pride. One of these even bears the mockery of a regal title. It is a little old woman named Maria Antonia Puerto, del Vino, in the Plaza de los Algibes, Alkambra. flnbabttants of tbc Blbambra Sabonea, but who goes by the appellation of la Reyna Coquina, 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 in a kind of closet under the outer staircase of the palace, and she sits in the cool stone corri- dor, plying her needle and singing from morn- ing till night, with a ready joke for every one that passes ; for though one of the poorest, she is one of the merriest little women breathing. Her great merit is a gift for story-telling, having, I verily believe, as many stories at her command as the inexhaustible Scheherezade of the Thousand and One Nights. Some of these I have heard her relate in the evening tertulias of Dame Antonia, at which she is occasionally a humble attendant. That there must be some fairy gift about this mysterious little old woman, would appear from her extraordinary luck, since, notwithstanding her being very little, very ugly, and very poor, she has had, according to her own account, five husbands and a half, reckoning as a half one a young dragoon, who died during courtship. A rival personage to this little fairy queen is a portly old fellow with a bottle-nose, who goes about in a rusty garb, with a cocked hat of oil- skin and a red cockade. He is one of the legiti- Slbambra mate sons of the Alhambra, and has lived here all his life, filling various offices, such as deputy alguazil, sexton of the parochial church, and marker of a fives-court, established at the foot of one of the towers. He is as poor as a rat, but as proud as he is ragged, boasting of his descent from the illustrious house of Agui- lar, from which sprang Gonzalvo of Cordova, the grand captain. Nay, he actually bears the name of Alonzo de Aguilar, so renowned in the history of the Conquest ; though the graceless wags of the fortress have given him the title of el padre santo, or the holy father, the usual ap- pellation 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 descend- ant of the proud Alonzo de Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chivalry, leading an almost men- dicant existence about this once haughty for- tress, which his ancestor aided to reduce ; yet such might have been the lot of the descend- ants of Agamemnon and Achilles, had they lingered about the ruins of Troy ! Of this motley community, I find the family of my gossiping squire, Mateo Ximenes, to form, from their numbers at least, a very im- portant part. His boast of being a son of the Ifnbabitantg of tbc Blbambra 85 Alhambra is not unfounded. His family has inhabited the fortress ever since the time of the Conquest, handing down an hereditary poverty from father to son ; not one of them having ever been known to be worth a maravedi. His father, by trade a ribbon-weaver, and who suc- ceeded the historical tailor as the head of the family, is now near seventy years of age, and lives in a hovel of reeds and plaster, built by his own hands, just above the iron gate. The furniture consists of a crazy bed, a table, and two or three chairs ; a wooden chest, contain- ing, besides his scanty clothing, the " archives of the family." These are nothing more nor less than the papers of various lawsuits sus- tained by different generations ; by which it would seem that, with all their apparent care- lessness and good humor, they are a litigious brood. Most of the suits have been brought against gossiping neighbors for questioning the purity of their blood, and denying their being Christianas viejos ; i.e. old Christians, without Jewish or Moorish taint. In fact, I doubt whether this jealousy about their blood has not kept them so poor in purse : spending all their earnings on escribanos and alguazils. The pride of the hovel is an escutcheon suspended against the wall, in which are emblazoned quarterings of the arms of the Marquis of Caie- 86 Blbambra sedo, and of various other noble houses, with which this poverty-stricken brood claim affinity. As to Mateo himself, who is now about thirty-five years of age, he has done his utmost to perpetuate his line and continue the poverty of the family, having a wife and a numerous 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 sub- sist, and, what is more, appear to enjoy their existence. The wife takes her holiday stroll on the Paseo of Granada, with a child in her arms and half a dozen at her heels ; and the eldest daughter, now verging into womanhood, dresses her hair with flowers, and dances gayly to the castanets. There are two classes of people to whom life seems one long holiday, the very rich and the very poor : one, because they need do nothing ; the other, because they have nothing to do ; but there are none who understand the art of doing nothing and living upon nothing, better than the 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 garbances, ffnbabitants of tbe Blbambra 87 an old brown cloak and a guitar, and let the world roll on as it pleases. Talk of poverty ! with him it has no disgrace. It sits upon him with a grandiose style, like his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo, even when in rags. The "sons of the Alhambra " are an emi- nent illustration of this practical philosophy. As the Moors imagined that the celestial para- dise hung over this favored spot, so I am inclined at times to fancy that a gleam of the golden age still lingers about this ragged community. They possess nothing, they do nothing, they care for nothing. Yet, though apparently idle all the week, they are as observant of all holy days and saints' days as the most laborious artisan. They attend all ftes and dancings in Granada and its vicinity, light bonfires on the hills on St. John's eve, and dance away the moonlight nights on the harvest-home of a small field within the precincts of the fortress, which yield a few bushels of wheat. Before concluding these remarks, I must mention one of the amusements of the place, which has particularly struck me. I had re- peatedly observed a long lean fellow perched on the top of one of the towers, manoeuvring two or three fishing-rods, as though he were angling for the stars. I was for some time Slbambta perplexed by the evolutions of this aerial fish- erman, and my perplexity increased on ob- serving others employed in like manner on different parts of the battlements and bastions ; it was not until I consulted Mateo Ximenes that I solved the mystery. It seems that the pure and airy situation of this fortress has rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breeding-place for swal- lows and martlets, who sport about its towers in myriads, with the holiday glee of urchins just let loose from school. To entrap these birds in their giddy circlings, with hooks baited with flies, is one of the favorite amuse- ments of the ragged "sons of the Alhambra," who, with the good-for-nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have thus invented the art of angling in the sky. 1ball of Hmbassaoors. IN one of my visits to the old Moorish chamber where the good Tia Antonia cooks her dinner and receives her com- pany, I observed a mysterious door in one corner, leading apparently into the ancient part of the edifice. My curiosity being aroused, I opened it, and found myself in a narrow, blind corridor, groping along which I came to the head of a dark winding staircase, leading down an angle of the Tower of Comares. Down this staircase I descended darkling, guiding myself by the wall until I came to a small door at the bottom, throwing which open, I was suddenly dazzled by emerging into the brilliant antechamber of the Hall of Ambassa- dors ; with the fountain of the Court of the Alberca sparkling before me. The antecham- ber is separated from the court by an elegant gallery, supported by slender columns with spandrels of open work in the Morisco style. Blbambra At each end of the antechamber are alcoves, and its ceiling is richly stuccoed and painted. Passing through a magnificent portal, I found myself in the far-famed Hall of Ambassadors, the audience chamber of the Moslem monarchs. It is said to be thirty-seven feet square, and sixty feet high ; occupies the whole interior of the Tower of Comares ; and still bears the traces of past magnificence. The walls are beautifully stuccoed and decorated with Mo- risco fancifulness ; the lofty ceiling was origi- nally of the same favorite material, with the usual frostwork and pensile ornaments or stal- actites ; which, with the embellishments of vivid coloring and gilding, must have been gorgeous in the extreme. Unfortunately, it gave way during an earthquake, and brought down with it an immense arch which traversed the hall. It was replaced by the present vault or dome of larch or cedar, with intersecting ribs, the whole curiously wrought and richly colored ; still Oriental in its character, remind- ing one of ' ' those ceilings of cedar and ver- milion that we read of in the Prophets and the Arabian Nights." * From the great height of the vault above the windows, the upper part of the hall is almost lost in obscurity ; yet there is a magnificence *Urquhart's "Pillars of Hercules." ttbe trnll of ambassadors as well as solemnity in the gloom, as through it we have gleams of rich gilding and the bril- liant tints of the Moorish pencil. The royal throne was placed opposite the entrance in a recess, which still bears an in- scription intimating that Yusef I. (the monarch who completed the Alhambra) made this the throne of his empire. Everything in this noble hall seems to have been calculated to surround the throne with impressive dignity and splen- dor ; there was none of the elegant voluptuous- ness which reigns in other parts of the palace. The tower is of massive strength, domineering over the whole edifice and overhanging the steep hillside. On three sides of the Hall of Ambassadors are windows cut through the immense thickness of the walls and command- ing extensive prospects. The balcony of the central window especially looks down upon the verdant valley of the Darro, with its walks, its groves, and gardens. To the left it enjoys a distant prospect of the Vega ; while directly in front rises the rival height of the Albaycin, with its medley of streets, and terraces, and gardens, and once crowned by a fortress that vied in power with the Alhambra. ' ' 111 fated the man who lost all this ! ' ' exclaimed Charles V., as he looked forth from this window upon the enchanting scenery it commands. 92 Sbe aibambra The balcony of the window where this royal exclamation was made, has of late become one of my favorite resorts. I have just been seated there, enjoying the close of a long brilliant day. The sun, as he sank behind the purple moun- tains 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 vapor that caught the setting ray, seemed spread out in the distance like a golden sea. Not a breath of air disturbed the stillness of the hour, and though the faint sound of music and merriment now and then rose from the gardens of the Darro, it but rendered more impressive the monumental silence of the pile which 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 daylight upon this Moorish pile, I was led into a consideration of the light, elegant, and voluptuous character prevalent throughout its internal architecture, and to contrast it with the grand but gloomy solemnity of the Gothic edifices reared by the Spanish conquerors. Cbc Tball of BmbassaDors 93 The very architecture thus bespeaks the oppo- site and irreconcilable natures of the two 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 fortunes of the Arabian or Morisco-Spaniards, whose whole existence is as a tale that is told, and certainly forms one of the most anomalous yet splendid episodes in history. Potent and durable as was their dominion, we scarcely know how to call them. They were a nation without a legitimate country or name. A remote wave of the great Arabian inundation, cast upon the shores of Europe, they seem to have all the impetus of the first rush of the torrent. Their career of conquest, from the rock of Gibraltar to the cliffs of the Pyrenees, was as rapid and brilliant as the Moslem victories of Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not been checked on the plains of Tours, all France, all Europe, might have been overrun with the same facility as the empires of the East, and the Crescent at this day have glittered on the fanes of Paris and IvOndon. Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed hordes of Asia and Africa, that formed this great irruption, gave up the Moslem principle of conquest, and sought to establish in Spain a peaceful and permanent 94 Blbambra dominion. As conquerors, their heroism was only equalled by . their moderation ; and in both, for a time, they excelled the nations with whom they contended. Severed from their native homes, they loved the land given them as they supposed by Allah, and strove to em- bellish it with everything that could administer to the happiness of man. Laying the founda- tions of their power in a system of wise and equitable laws, diligently cultivating the arts and sciences, and promoting agriculture, manu- factures, and commerce, they gradually formed an empire unrivalled for its prosperity by any of the empires of Christendom ; and diligently drawing round them the graces and refinements which marked the Arabian empire of the Bast, 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 useful arts. The universities of Toledo, Cordova, Seville, and Granada were sought by the pale student from other lands to acquaint himself with the sciences of the Arabs and the treasured lore of antiquity ; the lovers of the gay science resorted to Cordova and Granada, to imbibe the poetry and music of the East ; and the steel-clad warriors of the North hastened ZIbe l)all of Smbaeaa&ors 95 thither to accomplish themselves in the graceful exercises and courteous usages of chivalry. If the Moslem monuments in Spain, if the Mosque of Cordova, the Alcazar of Seville, and the Alhambra of Granada, still bear inscriptions fondly boasting of the power and permanancy of their dominion, can the boast be derided as arrogant and vain? Generation after genera- tion, century after century, passed away, and still they maintained possession of the land. A period elapsed longer than that which has passed since England was subjugated by the Norman Conqueror, and the descendants of Musa and Taric might as little anticipate being driven into exile across the same straits, traversed by their triumphant ancestors, as the descendants of Rollo and William, and their veteran peers, may dream of being driven back to the shores of Normandy. With all this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was but a brilliant exotic, that took no permanent root in the soil it embellished. Severed from all their neighbors in the West by impassable barriers of faith and manners, and separated by seas and deserts from their kindred of the East, the Morisco-Spaniards were an isolated people. Their whole existence was a prolonged, though gallant and chivalric, struggle for a foothold in a usurped land. Slbambra They were the outposts and frontiers of Islamism. The Peninsula was the great bat- tle-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 valor of the Goth. Never was the annihilation of a people more complete than that of the Morisco-Spaniards. Where are they ? Ask the shores of Barbary and its desert places. The exiled remnant of their once powerful empire disappeared among the barbarians of Africa, and ceased to be a na- tion. 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, except as invaders and usurpers. A few broken monuments are all that remain to bear witness to their power and dominion, as solitary rocks, left far in the interior, bear testimony to the extent of some vast inundation. Such is the Alhambra ; a Moslem pile in the midst of a Christian land ; an Oriental palace amidst the Gothic edifices of the West ; an elegant memento of a brave, intelligent, and graceful people, who con- quered, ruled, flourished, and passed away. TTbe Jesuits' Xibrarp. SINCE indulging in the foregoing reverie, my curiosity has been aroused to know something of the princes who left behind them this monument of Oriental taste and mag- nificence, and whose names still appear among the inscriptions on its walls. To gratify this curiosity, I have descended from this region of fancy and fable, where everything is liable to take an imaginary tint, and have carried my researches among the dusty tomes of the old Jesuits' Library, in the University. This once boasted repository of erudition is now a mere shadow of its former self, having been stripped of its manuscripts and rarest works by the French, when masters of Granada ; still it contains, among many ponderous tomes of the Jesuit fathers, which the French were careful to leave behind, several curious tracts of Span- ish literature ; and, above all, a number of those antiquated parchment-bound chronicles for which I have a particular veneration. 9 aibambra In this old library I have passed many delightful hours of quiet, undisturbed literary foraging ; for the keys of the doors and book- cases were kindly intrusted to me, and I was left alone, to rummage at my pleasure, a rare indulgence in these sanctuaries of learning, which too often tantalize the thirsty student with the sight of sealed fountains of knowledge. In the course of these visits I gleaned a variety of facts concerning historical characters connected with the Alhambra, some of which I here subjoin, trusting they may prove accep- table to the reader. Hlbamar, tbe '3foun&cr of tbe Hlbambra. THE Moors of Granada regarded the Al- hambra as a miracle of art, and had a tradition that the king who founded it dealt in magic, or at least in alchemy, by means whereof he procured the immense sums of gold expended in its erection. A brief view of his reign will show the secret of his wealth. He is known in Arabian history as Muhamed Ibn-1-Ahmar ; but his name in general is writ- ten simply Alhamar, and was given to him, we are told, on account of his ruddy complexion.* He was of the noble and opulent line of the Beni Nasar, or tribe of Nasar, and was born in Arjona, in the year of the Hegira 592 (A.D. * Et porque era muy rubio llainaban lo los Moros Abenalhamar, que quiere decir bermejo . . . et porque los Moros lo llamaban Benalhamar que quiere decir bermejo tomo los senales bermejos, segun que los ovieron despues los Reyes de Granada. Bleda, " Cronica de Alfonso XI.," p. i., c. 44. aibambra 1195)- At his birth the astrologers, we are told, cast his horoscope according to Oriental custom, and pronounced it highly auspicious ; and a santon predicted for him a glorious career. No expense was spared in fitting him for the high destinies prognosticated. Before he attained the full years of manhood, the famous battle of the Navas (or plains) of Tolosa shattered the Moorish empire, and eventually severed the Moslems of Spain from the Moslems of Africa. Factions soon arose among the former, headed by warlike chiefs ambitious of grasping the sovereignty of the Peninsula. Alhamar became engaged in these wars ; he was the general and leader of the Beni Nasar, and, as such, he opposed and thwarted the ambition of Aben Hud, who had raised his standard among the warlike moun- tains of the Alpuxaras, and been proclaimed king of Murcia and Granada. Man3 r conflicts took place between these warring chieftains ; Alhamar dispossessed his rival of several im- portant places, and was proclaimed king of Jaen by his soldiery ; but he aspired to the sovereignty of the whole of Andalusia, for he was of a sanguine spirit and lofty ambition. His valor and generosity went hand in hand ; what he gained by the one he secured by the other ; and at the death of Aben Hud (A.D. Mihrab, in a Little Mosque, near the Palace of the Alkambra. Blbamar, tbc jfounDer of tbe Blbambra 101 1238) he became sovereign of all the territories which owed allegiance to that powerful chief. He made his formal entry into Granada in the same year, amid the enthusiastic shouts of the multitude, who hailed him as the only one capable of uniting the various factions which prevailed, and which threatened to lay the empire at the mercy of the Christian princes. Alhamar established his court in Granada ; he was the first of the illustrious line of Nasar that sat upon a throne. He took immediate measures to put his little kingdom in a posture of defence against the assaults to be expected from his Christian neighbors, repairing and strengthening the frontier posts and fortifying the capital. Not content with the provisions of the Moslem law, by which every man is made a soldier, he raised a regular army to garrison his strongholds, allowing every soldier stationed on the frontier a portion of land for the support of himself, his horse, and his family, thus interesting him in the defence of the soil in which he had a property. These wise precautions were justified by events. The Christians, profiting by the dismemberment of the Moslem power, were rapidly regaining their ancient territories. James the Conqueror had subjected all Valencia, and Ferdinand the Saint sat down in person before Jaen, the bulwark of STbe aibambra Granada. Alhamar ventured to oppose him in open field, but met with a signal defeat, and re- tired discomfited to his capital. Jaen still held out, and kept the enemy at bay during an en- tire winter, but Ferdinand swore not to raise his camp until he had gained possession of the place. Alhamar found it impossible to throw reinforcements into the besieged city ; he saw that its fall must be followed by the investment of his capital, and was conscious of the insuffi- ciency of his means to cope with the potent sovereign of Castile. Taking a sudden resolu- tion, therefore, he repaired privately to the Christian camp, made his unexpected appear- ance in the presence of King Ferdinand, and frankly announced himself as the king of Granada. "I come," said he, "confiding in your good faith, to put myself under your pro- tection. Take all I possess and receive me as your vassal " ; so saying, he knelt and kissed the king's hand in token of allegiance. Ferdinand was won by this instance of con- fiding faith, and determined not to be outdone in generosity. He raised his late enemy from the earth, embraced him as a friend, and, refus- ing the wealth he offered, left him sovereign of his dominions, under the feudal tenure of a yearly tribute, attendance at the Cortes as one of the nobles of the empire, and service in war Blbamar, tbe jfoun&er of tbe Blbambra 103 with a certain number of horsemen . He more- over conferred on him the honor of knight- hood, and armed him with his own hands. It was not long after this that Alhamar was called upon for his military services, to aid King Ferdinand in his famous siege of Seville. The Moorish king sallied forth with five hun- dred chosen horsemen of Granada, than whom none in the world knew better how to manage the steed or wield the lance. It was a humili- ating service, however, for they had to draw the sword against their brethren of the faith. Alhamar gained a melancholy distinction by his prowess in this renowned conquest, but more true honor by the humanity which he prevailed upon Ferdinand to introduce into the usages of war. When in 1248 the famous city of Seville surrendered to the Castilian monarch, Alhamar returned sad and full of care to his dominions. He saw the gathering ills that menaced the Moslem cause ; and uttered an ejaculation often used by him in moments of anxiety and trouble, "How straitened and wretched would be our life, if our hope were not so spacious and extensive ! " " Que an- goste y miserabile seria nuestra vida, sinofuera tan dilatada y espaciosa nuestra esperanza / " As he approached Granada on his return he beheld arches of triumph which had been Ebe aibambra erected in honor of his martial exploits. The people thronged forth to see him with im- patient joy, for his benignant rule had won all hearts. Wherever he passed he was hailed with acclamations as " El Ghalib ! " (the con- queror). Alhamar gave a melancholy shake of the head on hearing the appellation. " Wa le ghalib He Aldh ! ' ' (there is no conqueror but God) exclaimed he. From that time forward this exclamation became his motto, and the motto of his descendants, and appears to this day emblazoned on his escutcheons in the halls of the Alhambra. Alhamar had purchased peace by submission to the Christian yoke ; but he was conscious that, with elements so discordant and motives for hostility so deep and ancient, it could not be permanent. Acting, therefore, upon the old maxim, ' ' Arm thyself in peace and clothe thyself in summer," he improved the present interval of tranquillity by fortifying his do- minions, replenishing his arsenals, and pro- moting those useful arts which give wealth and real power. He confided the command of his various cities to such as had distinguished themselves by valor and prudence, and who seemed most acceptable to the people. He organized a vigilant police, and established rigid rules for the administration of justice. Blbamar, tbe ffounDer of tbe Blbambra 105 The poor and the distressed always found ready admission to his presence, and he at- tended personally to their assistance and re- dress. He erected hospitals for the blind, the aged, and infirm, and all those incapable of labor, and visited them frequently ; not on set days with pomp and form, so as to give time for everything to be put in order, and every abuse concealed, but suddenly and unexpect- edly, informing himself, by actual observation and close inquiry, of the treatment of the sick, and the conduct of those appointed to adminis- ter to their relief. He founded schools and colleges, which he visited in the same manner, inspecting personally the instruction of the youth. He established butcheries and public ovens, that the people might be furnished with wholesome 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 pros- perity and abundance prevailed in this beau- tiful city ; its gates were thronged with commerce, and its warehouses filled with luxuries and merchandise of every clime and country. He moreover gave premiums and privileges to the best artisans ; improved the breed of horses and other domestic animals ; encouraged husbandry ; and increased the natural fertility of the soil twofold by his protection, making the lovely valleys of his kingdom to bloom like gardens. He fostered also the growth and fabrication of silk, until the looms of Granada surpassed even those of Syria in the fineness and beauty of their productions. He moreover caused the mines of gold and silver and other metals, found in the mountainous regions of his dominions, to be diligently worked, and was the first king of Granada who struck money of gold and silver with his name, taking great care that the coins should be skilfully executed. It was towards the middle of the thirteenth century, and just after his return from the siege of Seville, that he commenced the splen- did palace of the Alhambra ; superintending the building of it in person ; mingling fre- quently among the artists and workmen, and directing their labors. 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 splendor, but so plain as not to distinguish him from his sub- jects. His harem boasted but few beauties, and these he visited but seldom, though they were entertained with great magnificence. His Blbamar, tbe jfoun&er of tbe Hlbambra 107 wives were daughters of the principal nobles, and were treated by him as friends and rational companions. What is more, he managed to make them live in friendship with one another. He passed much of his time in his gardens ; especially in those of the Alhambra, which he had stored with the rarest plants and the most beautiful and aromatic flowers. Here he de- lighted himself in reading histories, or in causing them to be read and related to him, and sometimes, in intervals of leisure, em- ployed himself in the instruction of his three sons, for whom he had provided the most learned and virtuous masters. As he had frankly and voluntarily offered himself a tributary vassal to Ferdinand, so he always remained loyal to his word, giving him repeated proofs of fidelity and attachment. When that renowned monarch died in Seville in 1254, Alhamar sent ambassadors to condole with his successor, Alonzo X., and with them a gallant train of a hundred Moorish cavaliers of distinguished rank, who were to attend round the royal bier during the funeral ceremonies, each bearing a lighted taper. This grand testi- monial of respect was repeated by the Moslem monarch during the remainder of his life on each anniversary of the death of King Ferdi- nand el Santo, when the hundred Moorish 108 {Ebe aibambra knights repaired from Granada to Seville, and took their stations with lighted tapers in the centre of the sumptuous cathedral round the cenotaph of the illustrious deceased. Alhamar retained his faculties and vigor to an advanced age. In his seventy-ninth year (A.D. 1272) he took the field on horseback, accompanied by the flower of his chivalry, to resist an invasion of his territories. As the army sallied forth from Granada, one of the principal adalides, or guides, who rode in the advance, accidentally broke his lance against the arch of the gate. The counsellors of the king, alarmed by this circumstance, which was considered an evil omen, entreated him to return. Their supplications were in vain. The king persisted, and at noontide the omen, say the Moorish chroniclers, was fatally fulfilled. Alhamar was suddenly struck with illness, and had nearly fallen from his horse. He was placed on a litter and borne back towards Granada, but his illness increased to such a degree that they were obliged to pitch his tent in the Vega. His physicians were filled with consternation, not knowing what remedy to prescribe. In a few hours he died, vomiting blood and in violent convulsions. The Castilian prince, Don Philip, brother of Alonzo X. , was by his side when he expired. Blbamar, tbc ffounDer of tbe Blbambra 109 His body was embalmed, enclosed iu a silver coffin, and buried in the Alhambra in a sepul- chre of precious marble, amidst the unfeigned lamentations of his subjects, who bewailed him as a parent. I have said that he was the first of the illustrious line of Nasar that sat upon a throne. I may add that he was the founder of a bril- liant kingdom which will ever be famous in history and romance as the last rally ing-place of Moslem power and splendor in the Peninsula. Though his undertakings were vast, and his expenditures immense, yet his treasury was always full ; and this seeming contradiction gave rise to the story that he was versed in magic art, and possessed of the secret for transmuting baser metals into gold. Those who have attended to his domestic policy, as here set forth, will easily understand the natural magic and simple alchemy which made his ample treasury to overflow. J^usef Bbul tbe Jfinisber of tbe Hlbambra. TO the foregoing particulars, concerning the Moslem princes who once reigned in these halls, I shall add a brief notice of the monarch who completed and embellished the Alhambra. Yusef Abul Hagig (or, as it is sometimes written, Haxis) was another prince of the noble line of Nasar. He ascended the throne of Granada in the year of grace 1333, and is described by Moslem writers as having a noble presence, great bodily strength, and a fair complexion ; and the majesty of his coun- tenance increased, say they, by suffering his beard to grow to a dignified length and dyeing it black. His manners were gentle, affable, and urbane ; he carried the benignity of his nature into warfare, prohibiting all wanton cruelty, and enjoining mercy and protection towards women and children, the aged and infirm, and all friars and other persons of holy fusef Bbul 1>agig m and recluse life. But though he possessed the courage common to generous spirits, the bent of his genius was more for peace than war, and though repeatedly obliged by circumstances to take up arms, he was generally unfortunate. Among other ill-starred enterprises, he under- took a great campaign, in conjunction with the king of Morocco, against the kings of Castile and Portugal, but was defeated in the memor- able battle of Salado, which had nearly proved a death-blow to the Moslem power in Spain. Yusef obtained a long truce after this defeat, and now his character shone forth in its true lustre. He had an excellent memory, and had stored his mind with science and erudition ; his taste was altogether elegant and refined, and he was accounted the best poet of his time. De- voting himself to the instruction of his people and the improvement of their morals and man- ners, 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 purified the cere- monies of religion, and the festivals and popu- lar amusements, from various abuses and indecorums which had crept into them. He attended vigilantly to the police of the city, establishing nocturnal guards and patrols, and superintending all municipal concerns. His Blbambra 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 good Alhamar, was now completed. Yusef constructed the beautiful Gate of Jus- tice, 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 inscriptions on the walls, in which his name repeatedly occurs. He built also the noble Alcazar or citadel of Ma- laga, now unfortunately a mere mass of crum- bling ruins, but which most probably exhibited in its interior similar elegance and magnificence with the Alhambra. The genius of a sovereign stamps a character upon his time. The nobles of Granada, imitat- ing the elegant and graceful taste of Yusef, soon filled the city of Granada with magnificent palaces ; the halls of which were paved with mosaic, the walls and ceilings wrought in fret- work, and delicately gilded and painted with azure, vermilion, and other brilliant colors, 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. lusef Sbul 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, ' ' Granada, in the days of Yusef, was as a silver vase filled with emeralds and jacinths." One anecdote will be sufficient to show the magnanimity of this generous prince. The long truce which had succeeded the battle of Salado was at an end, and every effort of Yusef to renew it was in vain. His deadly foe, Al- fonzo XI. of Castile, took the field with great force, and laid siege to Gibraltar. Yusef re- luctantly took up arms, and sent troops to the relief of the place. In the midst of his anxiety, he received tidings that his dreaded foe had fallen a victim to the plague. Instead of mani- festing exultation on the occasion, Yusef called to mind the great qualities of the deceased, and was touched with a noble sorrow. "Alas!" cried he, "the world has lost one of its most excellent princes ; a sovereign who knew how to honor merit, whether in friend or foe ! ' ' The Spanish chroniclers themselves bear witness to this magnanimity. According to their accounts, the Moorish cavaliers partook ii4 ttbe Blbambra of the sentiment of their king, and put on mourning for the death of Alfonzo. Even those of Gibraltar, who had been so closely in- vested, when they knew that the hostile mon- arch 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 Alfonzo, 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 Gib- raltar to Seville.* Yusef did not long survive the enemy he had so generously deplored. In the year 1354, as he was one day praying in the royal mosque of the Alhambra, a maniac rushed suddenly from behind and plunged a dagger in his side. * " Y los moros que estaban en la villa y Castillo de Gibraltar despues que sopieron que el Rey Don Alonzo era muerto, ordenaron entresi que ninguno non fnesse osado de fazer ningun movimiento contra los Christianos, ni mover pelear contra ellos, esto- vieron todos quedos y dezian entre ellos qui aquel dia muriera un noble rey y Gran principedel mundo." Bbul tmcnc? The cries of the king brought his guards and courtiers to his assistance. They found him weltering in his blood. He made some signs as if to speak, but his words were unintelligible. They bore him senseless to the royal apart- ments, where he expired almost immediately. The murderer was cut to pieces, and his limbs burnt in public to gratify the fury of the populace. The body of the king was interred in a superb sepulchre of white marble ; a long epitaph, in letters of gold upon an azure ground, recorded his virtues. "Here lies a king and martyr, of an illustrious line, gentle, learned, and virtuous ; renowned for the graces of his per- son 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 tne most potent monarchs, ' ' etc. The mosque still exists which once resounded with the dying cries of Yusef, but the monu- ment which recorded his virtues has long since disappeared. His name, however, remains in- scribed among the delicate and graceful orna- ments of the Alhambra, and will be perpetuated in connection with this renowned pile, which it was his pride and delight to beautify. /ID^sterious Cbambers. AS I was rambling one day about the Moorish halls, my attention was, for the first time, attracted to a door in a remote gallery, communicating apparently with some part of the Alhambra which I had not yet explored. I attempted to open it, but it was locked. I knocked, but no one an- swered, and the sound seemed to reverberate through empty chambers. Here then was a mystery. Here was the haunted wing of the castle. How was I to get at the dark secrets here shut up from the public eye ? Should I come privately at night with lamp and sword, according to the prying custom of heroes of romance ; or should I endeavor to draw the secret from Pepe the stuttering gardener ; or the ingenuous Dolores, or the loquacious Ma- teo? Or should I go frankly and openly to Dame Antonia, the chatelaine, and ask her all about it ? I chose the latter course, as being &Sterious Chambers 117 the simplest though the least romantic ; and found, somewhat to my disappointment, that there was no mystery in the case. I was wel- come to explore the apartment, and there was the key. Thus provided, I returned forthwith to the door. It opened, as I had surmised, to a range of vacant chambers ; but they were quite dif- ferent from the rest of the palace. The archi- tecture, though rich and antiquated, was European. There was nothing Moorish about it. The first two rooms were lofty ; the ceil- ings, broken in many places, were of cedar, deeply panelled and skilfully carved with fruits and flowers, intermingled with grotesque masks or faces. The walls had evidently in ancient times been hung with damask ; but now were naked and scrawled over by that class of aspiring travellers who defile noble monuments with their worthless names. The windows, dis- mantled and open to wind and weather, looked out into a charming little secluded garden, where an alabaster fountain sparkled among roses and myrtles, and was surrounded by orange and citron trees, some of which flung their branches into the chambers. Beyond these rooms were two saloons, longer but less loft}-, looking also into the garden. In the n8 TTbc Blbambra compartments of the panelled ceilings were baskets of fruit and garlands of flowers, painted by no mean hand, and in tolerable preserva- tion. The walls also had been painted in fresco in the Italian style, but the paintings were nearly obliterated ; the windows were in the same shattered state with those of the other chambers. This fanciful suite of rooms ter- minated in an open gallery with balustrades, running at right angles along another side of the garden. The whole apartment, so delicate and elegant in its decorations, so choice and sequestered in its situation along this retired little garden, and so different in architecture from the neighboring halls, awakened an in- terest in its history. I found on inquiry that it was an apartment fitted up by Italian artists in the early part of the last century, at the time when Philip V. and his second wife, the beautiful Elizabetta of Farnese, daughter of the Duke of Parma, were expected at the Alhambra. It was destined for the queen and the ladies of her train. One of the loftiest chambers had been her sleeping-room. A narrow staircase, now walled up, led up to a delightful belvedere, originally a mirador of the Moorish sultanas, communicating with the harem ; but which was fitted up as a boudoir for the fair Elizabetta. and still retains the Chambers 119 name of El Tocador de la Reyna, or the queen's toilette. One window of the royal sleeping-room commanded a prospect of the Generalife and its embowered terraces ; another looked out into the little secluded garden I have men- tioned, which was decidedly Moorish in its character, and also had its history. It was in fact the garden of Lindaraxa, so often men- tioned in descriptions of the Alhambra, but who this lyindaraxa was I had never heard explained. A little research gave me the few particulars known about her. She was a Moorish beauty who flourished in the court of Muhamed the Left-Handed, and was the daughter of his loyal adherent the Alcayde of Malaga, who sheltered him in his city when driven from the throne. On regaining his crown, the Alcayde was rewarded for his fidel- ity. His daughter had her apartment in the Alhambra, and was given by the king in mar- riage to Nasar, a young Celtimerian prince descended from Aben Hud the Just. Their espousals were doubtless celebrated in the royal palace, and their honeymoon may have passed among these very bowers.* * Una de las cosas en que tienen precisa interven- cion los Reyes Moros as en el matrimonio de sus grandes : de aqui nace que todos los senores llegadas Blbambra Four centuries had elapsed since the fair lyindaraxa passed away, yet how much of the fragile beauty of the scenes she inhabited re- mained ! The garden still bloomed in which she delighted ; the fountain still presented the crystal mirror in which her charms may once have been reflected ; the alabaster, it is true, had lost its whiteness ; the basin beneath, over- run with weeds, had become the lurking-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, the irrevocable lot of man and all his works. The desolation too of these chambers, once the abode of the proud and elegant Elizabetta, had a more touching charm for me than if I had beheld them in their pristine splendor, glittering with the pageantry of a court. When I returned to my quarters, in the governor's apartment, everything seemed tame and commonplace after the poetic region I had a la persona real si casan en palacio, y siempre huvo su quarto destinado para esta ceremonia. One of the things in which the Moorish kings in- terfered was in the marriage of their nobles ; hence it came that all the seiiors attached to the royal person were married in the palace ; and there was always a chamber destined for the ceremony. Paseos por Granada, Paseo XXI. Garden of Lindaraxa, with Window of the Room Occupied by Washington Irving, Chambers left. The thought suggested itself: Why could I not change my quarters to these vacant chambers ? that would indeed be living in the Alhambra, surrounded by its gardens and fountains, as in the time of the Moorish sover- eigns. I proposed the change to Dame An- tonia and her family, and it occasioned vast surprise. They could not conceive any ra- tional inducement for the choice of an apart- ment so forlorn, remote, and solitary. Dolores exclaimed at its frightful loneliness ; nothing but bats and owls flitting about and then a fox and wildcat kept in the vaults of the neigh- boring baths, and roamed about at night. The good Tia had more reasonable objections. The neighborhood was infested by vagrants ; gyp- sies swarmed in the caverns of the adjacent hills ; the palace was ruinous and easy to be entered in many places ; the rumor of a stranger quartered alone in one of the remote and ruined apartments, out of the hearing of the rest of the inhabitants, might tempt unwel- come visitors in the night, especially as for- eigners were always supposed to be well stocked with money. I was not to be diverted from my humor, however, and my will was law with these good people. So, calling in the assistance of a carpenter, and the ever officious Mateo Ximenes, the doors and win- Blbambra dows were soon placed in a state of tolerable security, and the sleeping-room of the stately Elizabetta prepared for my reception. Mateo kindly volunteered as a body-guard to sleep in my antechamber ; but I did not think it worth while to put his valor to the proof. With all the hardihood I had assumed and all the precautions I had taken, I must confess the first night passed in these quarters was in- expressibly dreary. I do not think it was so much the apprehension of dangers from with- out that affected me, as the character of the place itself, with all its strange associations : the deeds of violence committed there ; the tragical ends of many of those who had once reigned there in splendor. As I passed be- neath the fated halls of the tower of Comares on the way to my chamber, I called to mind a quotation, that used to thrill me in the days of boyhood : " Fate sits on these dark battlements and frowns ; And, as the portal opens to receive me, A voice in sullen echoes through the courts Tells of a nameless deed ! " The whole family escorted me to my cham- ber and took leave of me as one engaged on a perilous enterprise ; and when I heard their retreating steps die away along the waste ante- Gbambers 123 chambers and echoing galleries, and turned the key of my door, I was reminded of those hob- goblin stories where the hero is left to accom- plish the adventure of an enchanted house. Even the thoughts of the fair EHzabetta 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 gayety and loveliness ; here were the traces of their elegance and enjoy- ment ; but what and where were they ? Dust and ashes ! tenants of the tomb ! phantoms of the memory ! A vague and indescribable awe was creeping over me. I would fain have ascribed it to the thoughts of robbers awakened by the evening's conversation, but I felt it was something more unreal and absurd. The long-buried super- stitions of the nursery were reviving, and asserting their power over my imagination. Everything began to be affected by the work- ing of my mind. The whispering of the wind among the citron-trees beneath my window had something sinister. I cast my eyes into the garden of I^indaraxa ; the groves presented a gulf of shadows, the thickets indistinct and ghastly shapes. I was glad to close the win- dow, but my chamber itself became infected. There was a slight rustling noise overhead ; a I2 4 Btbambra bat suddenly emerged from a broken panel of the ceiling, flitting about the room and athwart my solitary lamp ; and as the fateful bird almost flouted my face with his noiseless wing, the grotesque faces carved in high relief in the cedar ceiling whence he had emerged seemed to mope and mow at me. Rousing myself, and half smiling at this tem- porary weakness, I resolved to brave it out in the true spirit of the hero of the enchanted house ; so, taking lamp in hand, I sallied forth to make a tour of the palace. Notwithstand- ing every mental exertion the task was a severe one. I had to traverse waste halls and mys- terious galleries, where the rays of the lamp extended but a short distance around me. I walked, as it were, in a mere halo of light, walled in by impenetrable darkness. The vaulted corridors were as caverns ; the ceilings of the halls were lost in gloom. I recalled all that had been said of the danger from inter- lopers in these remote and ruined apartments. Might not some vagrant foe be lurking before or behind me, in the outer darkness? My own shadow, cast upon the wall, began to dis- turb me. The echoes of my own footsteps along the corridors made me pause and look round. I was traversing scenes fraught with dismal recollections. One dark passage led Cbe Chambers 125 down to the mosque where Yusef, the Moorish monarch, the finisher of the Alhambra, had been basely murdered. In another place I trod the gallery where another monarch had been struck down by the poniard of a relative whom he had thwarted in his love. A low murmuring sound, as of stifled voices and clanking chains, now reached me. It seemed to come from the Hall of the Aben- cerrages. I knew it to be the rush of water through subterranean channels, but it sounded strangely in the night, and reminded me of the dismal stories to which it had given rise. Soon, however, my ear was assailed by sounds too fearfully real to be the work of fancy. As I was crossing the Hall of Ambassadors, low moans and broken ejaculations rose, as it were, from beneath my feet. I paused and listened. They then appeared to be outside of the tower then again within. Then broke forth howl- ings as of an animal then stifled shrieks and inarticulate ravings. Heard in that dead hour and singular place the effect was thrilling. I had no desire for further perambulation, but returned to my chamber with infinitely more alacrity than I had sallied forth, and drew my breath more freely when once more within its walls and the door bolted behind me. When I awoke in the morning, with the sun shining in Blbambra at my window and lighting up every part of the building with his cheerful and truth-telling beams, I could scarcely recall the shadows and fancies conjured up by the gloom of the pre- ceding night, or believe that the scenes around me, so naked and apparent, could have been clothed with such imaginary horrors. Still, the dismal howlings and ejaculations I had heard were not ideal ; they were soon ac- counted for, however, by my handmaid Dolores, being the ravings of a poor maniac, a brother of her aunt, who was subject to violent parox- ysms, during which he was confined in a vaulted room beneath the Hall of Ambas- sadors. In the course of a few evenings a thorough change took place in the scene and its associa- tions. The moon, which when I took posses- sion of my new apartments was invisible, gradually gained each evening upon the dark- ness of the night, and at length rolled in full splendor above the towers, pouring a flood of tempered light into every court and hall. The garden beneath my window, before wrapped in gloom, was gently lighted up ; the orange and citron trees were tipped with silver, the foun- tain sparkled in the moonbeams, and even the blush of the rose was faintly visible. I now felt the poetic merit of the Arabic Chambers 127 inscription on the walls: " How beauteous is this garden ; 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 un- clouded sky ! ' ' On such heavenly nights I would sit for hours at my window, inhaling the sweetness of the garden, and musing on the checkered fortunes of those whose history was dimly shadowed out in the elegant memorials around. Sometimes, when all was quiet, and the clock from the distant cathedral of Granada struck the midnight hour, I have sallied out on another tour and wandered over the whole building ; but how different from my first tour ! No longer dark and mysterious ; no longer peopled with shadowy foes ; no longer recalling scenes of violence and murder ; all was open, spacious, beautiful ; everything called up pleasing and romantic fancies ; Lindaraxa once more walked in her garden ; the gay chivalry of Moslem Granada once more glittered about the Court of I^ions ! Who can do justice to a moonlight night in such a climate and such a place? The temperature of a summer midnight in Andalusia is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a purer atmosphere ; we feel a Blbambra serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirits, an elas- ticity of frame, which render mere existence happiness. But when moonlight is added to all this, the effect is like enchantment. Under its plastic sway the Alhambra seems to regain its pristine glories. Every rent and chasm of time, every mouldering tint and weather stain is gone ; the marble resumes its original white- ness, the long colonnades brighten in the moonbeams, the halls are illuminated with a softened radiance, we tread the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale ! What a delight, at such a time, to ascend to the little airy pavilion of the queen's toilette (El Tocador de la Reyna), which, like a bird- cage, overhangs the valley of the Darro, and gaze from its light arcades upon the moonlight prospect ! To the right, the swelling moun- tains of the Sierra Nevada, robbed of their ruggedness and softened into a fairy land, with their snowy summits gleaming like silver clouds against the deep blue sky. And then to lean over the parapet of the Tocador and gaze down upon Granada and the Albaycin spread out like a map below, all buried in deep repose ; the white palaces and convents sleep- ing in the moonshine, and beyond all these the vapory Vega fading away like a dreamland in the distance. flbgsterfous Cbambers Sometimes the faint click of castanets rise from the Alameda, where some gay Anda- lusians are dancing away the summer night. Sometimes the dubious tones of a guitar and the notes of an amorous voice tell perchance the whereabout of some moonstruck lover serenading his lady's window. Such is a faint picture of the moonlight nights I have passed loitering about the courts and halls and balconies of this most suggestive pile ; " feeding my fancy with sugared suppo- sitions," and enjoying that mixture of reverie and sensation which steal away existence in a southern climate ; so that it has been almost morning before I have retired to bed, and been lulled to sleep by the falling waters of the fountain of L,indaraxa. panorama from tbe TTower of Gomares. IT is a serene and beautiful morning ; the sun has not gained sufficient power to de- stroy the freshness of the night. What a morning to mount to the summit of the Tower of Comares and take a bird's-eye view of Gra- nada and its environs ! Come then, worthy reader and comrade, fol- low my steps into this vestibule, ornamented with rich tracery, which opens into the Hall of Ambassadors. We will not enter the hall, however, but turn to this small door opening into the wall. Have a care ! here are steep winding steps and but scanty light, yet up this narrow, obscure, and spiral staircase the proud monarchs of Granada and their queens have often ascended to the battlements to watch the approach of invading armies or gaze with anxious hearts on the battles in the Vega. At length we have reached the terraced roof and may take breath for a moment while panorama from tbe Gower of Gomares 131 we cast a general eye over the splendid pano- rama of city and country, of rocky mountain, verdant valley, and fertile plain ; of castle, cathedral, Moorish towers, and Gothic domes, crumbling ruins, and blooming groves. I^et us approach the battlements and cast our eyes immediately below. See, on this side we have the whole plain of the Alhambra laid open to us and can look down into its courts and gar- dens. At the foot of the tower is the Court of the Alberca, with its great tank or fishpool, bordered with flowers ; and yonder is the Court of Lions with its famous fountain and its light Moorish arcades ; and in the centre of the pile is the little garden of Lindaraxa, buried in the heart of the building, with its roses and citrons and shrubbery of emerald green. That belt of battlements, studded with square towers, straggling round the brow of the hill, is the outer boundary of the fortress. Some of the towers, you may perceive, are in ruins and their massive fragments buried among vines, fig-trees, and aloes. I,et us look on this northern side of the tower. It is a giddy height ; the very founda- tions of the tower rise above the groves of the steep hillside. And see ! a long fissure in the massive walls shows that the tower has been rent by some of the earthquakes which from 132 Slbambra time to time have thrown Granada into con- sternation, and which, sooner or later, must reduce this crumbling pile to a mere mass of ruin. The deep narrow glen below us, which gradually widens as it opens from the moun- tains, is the valley of the Darro ; you see the little river winding its way under embowered terraces, and among orchards and flower-gar- dens. It is a stream famous in old times for yielding gold, and its sands are still sifted oc- casionally 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 re- freshment of their gardens. Well have they been compared by one of their poets to so many pearls set in a bed of emeralds. The airy palace, with its tall white towers and long arcades, which breasts yon mountain, among pompous groves and hanging gardens, is the Generalife, a summer palace of the Moorish kings, to which they resorted during the sultry months to enjoy a still more breezy region than that of the Alhambra. The naked summit of the height above it, where you be- hold some shapeless ruins, is the Silla del Moro, or Seat of the Moor, so called from hav- ing been a retreat of the unfortunate Boabdil during the time of an insurrection, where he panorama from tbc {Tower of Comares 133 seated himself and looked down mournfully upon his rebellious city. A murmuring sound of water now and then rises from the valley. It is from the aqueduct of yon Moorish mill, nearly at the foot of the hill. The avenue of trees beyond is the Ala- meda, along the bank of the Darro, a favorite 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 you see none but a few loitering monks there and a group of water- carriers. The latter are burdened with water- jars of ancient Oriental construction, such as were used by the Moors. They have been filled at the cold and limpid spring called the Fountain of Avellanos. Yon mountain path leads to the fountain, a favorite resort of Mos- lems as well as Christians ; for. this is said to be the Adinamar (Aynu-1-adamar), the "Foun- tain of Tears, ' ' mentioned by Ibn Batuta, the traveller, and celebrated in the histories and romances of the Moors. You start ! 't is nothing but a hawk that we have frightened from his nest. This old tower is a complete breeding-place for vagrant birds ; the swallow and martlet abound in every chink and cranny, and circle about it the whole day long ; while at night, when all other birds 134 TTbe Blbambra liave gone to rest, the moping owl comes out of its lurking-place, and utters its boding cry from the battlements. See how the hawk we have dislodged sweeps away below us, skim- ming over the tops of the trees, and sailing up to the ruins above the Generalife ! I see you raise your eyes to the snowy sum- mit of yon pile of mountains, shining like a white summer cloud in the blue sky. It is the Sierra Nevada, the pride and delight of Gra- nada ; the source of her cooling breezes and perpetual verdure, of her gushing fountains and perennial streams. It is this glorious pile of mountains which gives to Granada that combination of delights so rare in a southern city, the fresh vegetation and temperate airs of a northern climate, with the vivifying ardor of a tropical sun, and the cloudless azure of a southern sky. It is this aerial treasury of snow, which, melting in proportion to the in- crease of the summer heat, sends down rivulets and streams through every glen and gorge of the Alpuxarras, diffusing emerald verdure and fertility throughout a chain of happy and se- questered valleys. Those mountains may be well called the glory of Granada. They dominate the whole extent of Andalusia, and may be seen from its most distant parts. The muleteer hails them, Comares. panorama from tbe tlower of Gomares 135 as lie views their frosty peaks from the sultry level of the plain ; and the Spanish mariner on the deck of his bark, far, far off on the bosom of the blue Mediterranean, watches them with a pensive eye, thinks of delightful Granada, and chants, in low voice, some old romance about the Moors. See to the south at the foot of those moun- tains a line of arid hills, down which a long train of mules is slowly moving. Here was the closing scene of Moslem domination. From the summit of one of those hills the unfor- tunate 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." Farther this way these arid hills slope down into the luxurious Vega, from which he had just emerged : a blooming wilderness of grove and garden, and teeming orchard, with the Xenil winding through it in silver links, and feeding innumerable rills ; which, conducted through ancient Moorish channels, maintain the landscape in perpetual verdure. Here were the beloved bowers and gardens, and rural pavilions, for which the unfortunate Moors fought with such desperate valor. The very hovels and rude granges, now inhabited by boors, show, by the remains of arabesques 136 Blbambra and other tasteful decoration, that they were elegant residences in the days of the Moslems. Behold, in the very centre of this eventful plain, a place which in a manner links the his- tory of the Old World with that of the New. Yon line of walls and towers gleaming in the morning sun is the city of Santa Fe, built by the Catholic sovereigns during the siege of Granada, after a conflagration had destroyed their camp. It was to these walls Columbus was called back by the heroic queen, and within them the treaty was concluded which led to the discovery of the Western World. Behind yon promontory to the west is the bridge of Pinos, renowned for many a bloody fight between Moors and Christians. At this bridge the messenger overtook Columbus when, despairing of success with the Spanish sovereigns, he was departing to carry his pro- ject of discovery to the court of France. Above the bridge a range of mountains bounds the Vega to the west, the ancient barrier between Granada and the Christian territories. Among their heights you may still discern warrior towns ; their gray walls and battlements seeming of a piece with the rocks on which they are built. Here and there a solitary atalaya, or watchtower, perched on a mountain peak, looks down as it were panorama from tbe Cower of Comares 137 from the sky into the valley on either side. How often have these atalayas given notice, by fire at night or smoke by day, of an approach- ing foe ! It was down a cragged defile of these mountains, called the Pass of Lope, that the Christian armies descended into the Vega. Round the base of yon gray and naked moun- tain (the mountain of Elvira), stretching its bold rocky promontory into the bosom of the plain, the invading squadrons would come bursting into view, with flaunting banners and clangor of drum and trumpet. Five hundred years have elapsed since Ismael ben Ferrag, a Moorish king of Granada, beheld from this very tower an invasion of the kind, and an insulting ravage of the Vega ; on which occasion he displayed an instance of chivalrous magnanimity, often witnessed in the Moslem princes, ' ' whose history, ' ' says an Arabian writer, ' ' abounds in generous actions and noble deeds that will last through all succeeding ages, and live forever in the memory of man." But let us sit down on this parapet, and I will relate the anecdote. It was in the year of Grace 1319, that Ismael ben Ferrag beheld from this tower a Christian camp whitening the skirts of yon mountain of Elvira. The royal princes, Don Juan and Don Pedro, regents of Castile during the minority 138 Blbambra of Alphonso XI., had already laid waste the country from Alcaudete to Alcala la Real, capturing the castle of Illora, and setting fire to its suburbs, and they now carried their in- sulting ravages to the very gates of Granada, defying the king to sally forth and give them battle. Ismael, though a young and intrepid prince, hesitated to accept the challenge. He had not sufficient force at hand, and awaited the arrival of troops summoned from the neighboring towns. The Christian princes, mistaking his motives, gave up all hope of drawing him forth, and having glutted themselves with ravage, struck their tents and began their homeward march. Don Pedro led the van, and Don Juan brought up the rear, but their march was confused and irregular, the army being greatly encumbered by the spoils and captives they had taken. By this time King Ismael had received his expected resources, and putting them under the command of Osmyn, one of the bravest of his generals, sent them forth in hot pursuit of the enemy. The Christains were overtaken in the defiles of the mountains. A panic seized them ; they were completely routed, and driven with great slaughter across the borders. Both panorama from tbc Cower of Gomares 139 of the princes lost their lives. The body of Don Pedro was carried off by his soldiers, but that of Don Juan was lost in the darkness of the night. His son wrote to the Moorish king, entreating that the body of his father might be sought and honorably treated. Ismael forgot in a moment that Don Juan was an enemy, who had carried ravage and insult to the very gate of his capital ; he only thought of him as a gallant cavalier and a royal prince. By his command diligent search was made for the body. It was found in a barranca and brought to Granada. There Ismael caused it to be laid out in state on a lofty bier, surrounded by torches and tapers, in one of these halls of the Alhambra. Osmyn and other of the noblest cavaliers were appointed as a guard of honor, and the Christian captives were assembled to pray around it. In the meantime, Ismael wrote to the son of Prince Juan to send a convoy for the body, assuring him it should be faithfully delivered up. In due time, a band of Christian cavaliers arrived for the purpose. They were honorably received and entertained by Ismael, and, on their departure with the body, the guard of honor of Moslem cavaliers escorted the funeral train to the frontier. But enough ; the sun is high above the mountains, and pours his full fervor on our heads. Already the terraced roof is hot be- neath our feet ; let us abandon it, and refresh ourselves under the arcades by the Fountain of the Lions. }>uerta del J-itido the Entrance to the Enclosure of th* Alhambra. ' Ube Uruant. WE have had a scene of a petty tribula- tion in the Alhambra, which has thrown a cloud over the sunny countenance of Dolores. This little damsel has a female passion for pets of all kinds ; and from the superabundant kindness of her dispo- sition one of the ruined courts of the Alhambra is thronged with her favorites. A stately pea- cock and his hen seem to hold regal sway here, over pompous turkeys, querulous guinea-fowls, and a rabble rout of common cocks and hens. The great delight of Dolores, however, has for some time past been centred in a youthful pair of pigeons, who have lately entered into the holy state of wedlock, and even supplanted a tortoise-shell cat and kittens in her affections. As a tenement for them wherein to com- mence housekeeping, she had fitted up a small chamber adjacent to the kitchen, the window of which looked into one of the quiet Moorish tTbe Blbambra courts. Here they lived in happy ignorance of any world beyond the court and its sunny roofs. Never had they aspired to soar above the battlements, or to mount to the summit of the towers. Their virtuous union was at length crowned by two spotless and milk- white eggs, to the great joy of their cherishing little mistress. Nothing could be more praise- worthy than the conduct of the young married folks on this interesting occasion. They took turns to sit upon the nest until the eggs were hatched, and while their callow progeny re- quired warmth and shelter ; while one thus stayed at home, the other foraged abroad for food, and brought home abundant supplies. This scene of conjugal felicity has suddenly met with a 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 vigor of his wings. He swept down into the valley, and then rising upwards with a surge, soared almost to the clouds. Never before had he risen to such a height, or experienced such delight in flying; and, like a young spend- truant 143 thrift just come to his estate, he seemed giddy with excess of liberty, and with the boundless field of action suddenly opened to him. For the whole day he has been circling about in capricious flights, from tower to tower, and tree to tree. Every attempt has been vain to lure him back by scattering grain upon the roofs. He seems to have lost all thought of home, of his tender helpmate, and his callow young. To add to the anxiety of Dolores, he has been joined by two palomas ladrones, or robber pigeons, whose instinct it is to entice 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 companions, who have undertaken to show him life, and introduce him to society. He has been soaring with them over all the roofs and steeples of Granada. A thunder- storm has passed over the city, but he has not sought his home ; night has closed in, and still he comes not. To deepen the pathos of the affair, the female pigeon, after remaining several hours on the nest without being re- lieved, at length went forth to seek her recreant mate ; but stayed away so long that the young ones perished for want of the warmth and shelter of the parent bosom. At a late hour in 144 Blbambra the evening, word was brought to Dolores that the truant bird had been seen upon the towers of the Generalife. Now it happens that the Administrador of that ancient palace has like- wise a dove-cote, among the inmates of which are said to be two or three of these inveigling birds, the terror of all neighboring pigeon- fanciers. Dolores immediately concluded that the two feathered sharpers who had been seen with her fugitive were these bloods of the Gen- eralife. A council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of Tia Antonia. The Genera- life is a distinct jurisdiction from the Alhambra, and of course some punctilio, if not jealousy, exists between their custodians. It was de- termined, therefore, to send Pepe, the stuttering lad of the gardens, as ambassador to the Ad- ministrador, requesting that if such fugitive should be found in his dominions, he might be given up as a subject of the Alhambra. Pepe departed, accordingly, on his diplomatic expe- dition, through the moonlit groves and avenues, but returned in an hour with the afflicting intel- ligence that no such bird was to be found in the dove-cote of the Generalife. The Administra- dor, however, pledged his sovereign word that if such vagrant should appear there, even at mid- night, he should be instantly arrested and sent back prisoner to his little black-eyed mistress. {Truant Thus stands the melancholy affair, which has occasioned much distress throughout the palace, and has sent the inconsolable Dolores to a sleepless pillow. "Sorrow endureth for a night," says the proverb, "but joy cometh in the morning." The first object that met my eyes, on leaving my room this morning, was Dolores, with the truant pigeon in her hands, and her eyes sparkling with joy. He had appeared at an early hour on the battlements, hovering shyly about from roof to roof, but at length entered the window, and surrendered himself prisoner. He gained little credit, however, by his return ; for the ravenous manner in which he devoured the food set before him showed that, like the prodigal son, he had been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores upbraided him for his faithless conduct, calling him all manners of vagrant names, though, womanlike, she fon- dled 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 lovers or wandering husbands. More than one valuable moral might be drawn from the story of Dolores and her pigeon. I TTbe I HAVE spoken of a balcony of the central window of the Hall of Ambassadors. It served as a kind of observatory, where I used often to take my seat, and consider not merely the heaven above, but the earth be- neath. Besides the magnificent prospect which it commanded of mountain, valley, and Vega, there was a little busy scene of human life laid open to inspection immediately below. At the foot of the hill was an alameda, or public walk, which, though not so fashionable as the more modern and splendid paseo of the Xenil, still boasted a varied and picturesque concourse. Hither resorted the small gentry of the suburbs, together with priests and friars, who walked for appetite and digestion ; majos and ma/as, the beaux and belles of the lower classes, in their Andalusian dresses ; swagger- ing contrabandistas, and sometimes half-muffled ITbe 147 and mysterious loungers of the higher ranks, on some secret assignation. It was a moving picture of Spanish life and character, which I delighted to study ; and as the astronomer has his grand telescope with which to sweep the skies, and, as it were, bring the stars nearer for his inspection, so I had a smaller one of pocket size, for the use of my observatory, with which I could sweep the regions below, and bring the countenances of the motley groups so close as almost, at times, to make me think I could divine their conversation by the play and expression of their features. I was thus, in a manner, an invisible observer, and, without quitting my solitude, could throw myself in an instant into the midst of society, a rare advantage to one of somewhat shy and quiet habits, and fond, like myself, of observing the drama of life without becoming an actor in the scene. There was a considerable suburb lying below the Alhambra, filling the narrow gorge of the valley, and extending up the opposite hill of the Albaycin. Many of the houses were built in the Moorish style, round patios, or courts, cooled by fountains and open to the sky ; and as the inhabitants passed much of their time in these courts and on the terraced roofs during the summer season, it follows that many a I 4 8 Blbambra glance at their domestic life might be obtained by an aerial spectator like myself, who could look down on them from the clouds. I enjoyed in some degree the advantages of the student in the famous old Spanish story, who beheld all Madrid unroofed for his inspec- tion ; and my gossiping squire, Mateo Xime- nes, officiated occasionally as my Asmodeus, to give me anecdotes of the different mansions and their inhabitants. I preferred, however, to form conjectural histories for myself, and thus would sit for hours, weaving, from casual incidents and in- dications passing under my eye, a whole tissue of schemes, intrigues, and occupations of the busy mortals below. There was scarce a pretty face or a striking figure that I daily saw, about which I had not thus gradually framed a dramatic story, though some of my charac- ters would occasionally act in direct opposition to the part assigned them, and disconcert the whole drama. Reconnoitring one day with my glass the streets of the Albaycin, I beheld the procession of a novice about to take the veil ; and remarked several circumstances which excited the strongest sympathy in the fate of the youthful being thus about to be consigned to a living tomb. I ascertained to my satisfaction that she was beautiful, and, JBalcony i 49 from the paleness of her cheek, that she was a victim rather than a votary. She was arrayed in bridal garments, and decked with a chaplet of white flowers, but her heart evidently revolted at this mockery of a spiritual union, and yearned after its earthly loves. A tall, stern-looking man walked near her in the procession ; it was, of course, the tyrannical father, who, from some bigoted or sordid motive, had compelled this sacrifice. Amid the crowd was a dark handsome youth, in Andalusian garb, who seemed to fix on her an eye of agony. It was doubtless the secret lover from whom she was forever to be sepa- rated. My indignation rose as I noted the malignant expression painted on the counte- nances of the attendant monks and friars. The procession arrived at the chapel of the convent ; the sun gleamed for the last time upon the chaplet of the poor novice, as she crossed the fatal threshold and disappeared within the building. The throng poured in with cowl, and cross, and minstrelsy ; the lover paused for a moment at the door. I could divine the tumult of his feelings ; but he mastered them, and entered. There was a long interval. I pictured to myself the scene passing within ; the poor novice despoiled of her transient finery, and clothed in the conventual garb ; Blbambra the bridal chaplet taken from her brow, and her beautiful head shorn of its long silken tresses. I heard her murmur the irrevocable vow. I saw her extended on a bier ; the death- pall spread over her ; the funeral service per- formed that proclaimed her dead to the world ; her sighs were drowned in the deep tones of the organ, and the plaintive requiem of the nuns. The father looked on, unmoved, with- out a tear ; the lover no my imagination refused to portray the anguish of the lover, there the picture remained a blank. After a time the throng again poured forth and dispersed various ways to enjoy the light of the sun and mingle with the stirring scenes of life ; but the victim, with her bridal chap- let, was no longer there. The door of the con- vent closed that severed her from the world forever. I saw the father and the lover issue forth ; they were in earnest conversation. The latter was vehement in his gesticulations ; I expected some violent termination to my drama, but an angle of a building interfered and closed the scene. My eye afterwards was frequently turned to that convent with painful interest. I remarked late at night a solitary light twinkling from a remote lattice of one of its towers. "There," said I, "the unfor- tunate nun sits weeping in her cell, while Cbe JSalcong 151 perhaps her lover paces the street below in unavailing anguish. ' ' The officious Mateo interrupted my medita- tions and destroyed in an instant the cobweb tissue of my fancy. With his usual zeal he had gathered facts concerning the scene which put my fictions all to flight. The heroine of my romance was neither young nor handsome ; she had no lover ; she had entered the convent of her own free will, as a respectable asylum, and was one of the most cheerful residents within its walls. It was some little while before I could for- give the wrong done me by the nun in being thus happy in her cell, in contradiction to all the rules of romance. I diverted my spleen, however, by watching for a day or two, the pretty coquetries of a dark-eyed brunette, who, from the covert of a balcony shrouded with flowering shrubs and a silken awning, was carrying on a mysterious correspondence with a handsome, dark, well-whiskered cavalier, who lurked frequently in the street beneath her window. Sometimes I saw him at an early hour, stealing forth wrapped to the eyes in a mantle. Sometimes he loitered at a cor- ner, in various disguises, apparently waiting for a private signal to slip into the house. Then there was the tinkling of a guitar at night and 152 Cbe Blbambra a lantern shifted from place to place in the bal- cony. I imagined another intrigue like that of Almaviva, but was again disconcerted in all my suppositions. The supposed lover turned out to be the husband of the lady and a noted contrabandista , and all his mysterious signs and movements had doubtless some smuggling scheme in view. I occasionally amused myself with noting from this balcony the gradual changes of che scenes below, according to the different stages of the day. Scarce has the gray dawn streaked the sky and the earliest cock crowed from the cottages of the hillside, when the suburbs give sign of reviving animation, for the fresh hours of dawning are precious in the summer season in a sultry climate. All are anxious to get the start of the sun in the business of the day. The muleteer drives forth his loaded train for the journey ; the traveller slings his carbine behind his saddle and mounts his steed at the gate of the hotel ; the brown peasant from the country urges forward his loitering beasts, laden with panniers of sunny fruit and fresh, dewy vege- tables, for already the thrifty housewives are hastening to the market. The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, tipping the transparent foliage of the groves. cbc 153 The matin bells resound melodiously through the pure, bright air, announcing the hour of devotion. The muleteer halts his burdened animals before the chapel, thrusts his staff through his belt behind and enters with hat in hand smoothing his coal-black hair to hear a mass and to put up a prayer for a prosperous wayfaring across the sierra. And now steals forth on fairy foot the gentle sefiora in trim basquina, with restless fan in hand and dark eye flashing from beneath the gracefully folded mantilla ; she seeks some well- frequented church to offer up her morning orisons ; but the nicely adjusted dress, the dainty shoe and cobweb stocking, the raven tresses exquisitely braided, the fresh-plucked rose, gleaming among them like a gem, show that earth divides with heaven the empire of her thoughts. Keep an eye upon her, careful mother, or virgin aunt, or vigilant duenna, whichever you may be, that walk behind ! As the morning advances, the din of labor augments on every side ; the streets are thronged with man, and steed, and beast of burden, and there is a hum and murmur, like the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to his meridian, the hum and bustle gradually de- cline ; at the height of noon there is a pause. The panting city sinks into lassitude, and for 154 Blbambra 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 porter lies stretched on the pavement beside his burden ; the peasant and the laborer sleep beneath the trees of the Alameda, lulled by the sultry chirping 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 the mountain snow (mas fria que la nievi). " As the sun declines, there is again a gradual reviving, and when the vesper bell rings out his sinking knell, all nature seems to rejoice that the tyrant of the day has fallen. Now begins the bustle of enjoyment, when the citi- zens pour forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the brief twilight in the walks and gardens of the Darro and Xenil. As night closes, the capricious scene assumes new features. Light after light gradually twinkles forth ; here a taper from a balconied window ; there a votive lamp before the image of a saint. Thus, by degrees, the city emerges from the pervading gloom, and sparkles with scattered lights, like the starry firmament. Now break forth from court and garden, and Cbc JBalcong 155 street and lane, the tinkling of innumerable guitars, and the clicking of castanets ; blend- ing, at this lofty height, in a faint but general concert. ' ' Enjoy the moment, ' ' is the creed of the gay and amorous Andalusian, and at no time does he practise it more zealously than on the balmy nights of summer, wooing his mistress with the dance, the love-ditty, and the passionate serenade. I was one evening seated in the balcony, en- joying the light breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill, among the tree- tops, when my humble historiographer Mateo, who was at my elbow, pointed out a spacious house, in an obscure street of the Albaycin, about which he related, as nearly as I can recollect, the following anecdote. Ube Hfcventure of tbe /iDason* was once upon a time a poor mason, or bricklayer, in Granada, who kept all the saints' days and holidays, and Saint Monday into the bargain, and yet, with all his devotion, he grew poorer and poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for his numerous family. One night he was roused from his first sleep by a knocking at his door. He opened it, and beheld before him a tall, meagre, cadaverous-looking priest. " ' Hark ye, honest friend ! ' said the stran- ger ; ' 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, Senor Padre, on con- dition 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 adventure of tbe /fcason 157 through various rough lanes and winding pas- sages, until they stopped before the portal of a house. The priest then applied a key, turned a creaking lock, and opened what sounded like a ponderous door. They entered, the door was closed and bolted, and the mason was conducted through an echoing corridor and a spacious hall to an interior part of the building. Here the bandage was removed from his eyes, and he found himself in a patio, or court, dimly lighted by a single lamp. In the centre was the dry basin of an old 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 daybreak the priest put a piece of gold into his hand, and having again blindfolded him, conducted him back to his dwelling. ' ' ' Are you willing, ' said he, ' to return and complete your work ? ' " ' Gladly, Senor Padre, provided I am so 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. ' 158 Blbambra " The poor mason's hair rose on his head at these words : he followed the priest, with trem- bling steps, into a retired chamber of the mansion, expecting to behold some ghastly spectacle of death, but was relieved on per- ceiving three or four portly jars standing in one corner. They were evidently full of money, and it was with great labor that he and the priest carried them forth and consigned them to their tomb. The vault was then closed, the pavement replaced, and all traces of the work were obliterated. The mason was again hood- winked and led forth by a route different from that by which he had come. After they had wandered for a long time through a perplexed maze of lanes and alleys, they halted. The priest then put two pieces of gold into his hand: 'Wait here,' said he, 'until you hear the cathedral bell toll for matins. If you pre- sume to uncover your eyes before that time, evil will befall you ' : so saying, he departed. The mason waited faithfully, amusing himself by weighing the gold pieces in his hand, and clinking them against each other. The mo- ment the cathedral bell rang its matin peal, he uncovered his eyes, and found himself on the banks of the Xenil, whence he made the best of his way home, and revelled with his family for a whole fortnight on the profits of his two Gbe aoventure or tbc dBason nights' work ; after which he was as poor as ever. ' ' He continued to work a little, and pray a good deal, and keep saints' days and holidays, from year to year, while his family grew up as gaunt and ragged as a crew of gypsies. As he was seated one evening at the door of his hovel, he was accosted by a rich old curmudgeon, who was noted for owning many houses, and being a griping landlord. The man of money eyed him for a moment from beneath a pair of anxious shagged eyebrows. "'I am told, friend, that you are very poor.' "'There is no denying the fact, senor, it speaks for itself.' " ' I presume, then, that you will bt 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 into decay, which costs me more money than it is worth to keep it in repair, for nobody will live in it ; so I must contrive to patch it up and keep it together at as small expense as possible.' " The mason was accordingly conducted to a large deserted house that seemed going to ruin. Passing through several empty halls and cham- i6o Blbambra bers, he entered an inner court, where his eye was caught by an old Moorish fountain. He paused for a moment, for a dreaming recollec- tion of the place came over him. " ' Pray/ said he, ' who occupied this house formerly ? ' " ' A pest upon him ! ' cried the landlord ; ' it was an old miserly priest, who cared for nobody but himself. He was said to be immensely rich, and, having no relations, it was thought he would leave all his treasures to the Church. He died suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to take 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 paying rent, and there is no taking the law of a dead man. The people pretend to hear the clinking of gold all night in the chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were 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 present, and I will engage to put it in repair, and to quiet the troubled spirit B&venture of tbe dftason 161 that disturbs it. I am a good Christian and a poor man, and am not to be daunted by the Devil himself, even though he should come in the shape of a big bag of money ! ' " The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted ; he moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all his engagements. By little and little he restored it to its former state ; the clinking of gold was no more heard at night in the chamber of the defunct priest, but began to be heard by day in the pocket of the living mason. In a word, he increased rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of all his neighbors, and became one of the richest men in Granada : he gave large sums to the Church, by way, no doubt, of satisfying his conscience, and never revealed the secret of the vault until on his death-bed to his son and heir." 1 I 31 1 Court of Xfons. THB peculiar charm of this old dreamy palace is its power of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the past, and thus clothing naked realities with the illusions of the memory and the imagination. As I de- light to walk in these "vain shadows," I am prone to seek those parts of the Alhambra which are most favorable to this phantasma- goria of the mind ; and none are more so than the Court of Lions, and its surrounding halls. Here the hand of time has fallen the lightest, and the traces of Moorish elegance and splendor exist in almost their original brilliancy. Earth- quakes have shaken the foundations of this pile, and rent its rudest towers ; yet see ! not one of those slender columns has been dis- placed, not an arch of that light and fragile colonnade given way, and all the fairy fret- work of these domes, apparently as unsubstan- tial as the crystal fabrics of a morning's frost, Court of the Lions, Alhambra. TTbe Court of Xions 163 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 fountain, the legendary monument of their massacre, is before me ; the lofty jet almost casts its dew upon my paper. How difficult to reconcile the ancient tale of violence and blood with the gentle and peaceful scene around ! Everything here appears calculated to inspire kind and happy feelings, for every- thing is delicate and beautiful. The very light falls tenderly from above, through the lantern of a dome tinted and wrought as if by fairy hands. Through the ample and fretted arch of the portal I behold the Court of I^ions, with brilliant sunshine gleaming along its colon- nades and sparkling in its fountains. The lively swallow dives into the court, and, rising with a surge, darts away twittering over the roofs ; the busy bee toils 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 exertion of the fancy to picture some pensive beauty of the harem, loitering in these secluded haunts of Oriental luxury. He, however, who would behold this scene i6 4 tlbe Slbambra under an aspect more in unison with its for- tunes, let him come when the shadows of evening temper the brightness of the court, and throw a gloom into the surrounding halls. Then nothing can be more serenely melancholy, or more in harmony with the tale of departed grandeur. At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Justice, whose deep shadowy arcades extend across the upper end of the court. Here was performed, in presence of Ferdinand and Isa- bella and their triumphant court, the pompous ceremonial of High Mass, on taking possession of the Alhambra. The very cross is still to be seen upon the wall, where the altar was erected, and where officiated the Grand Cardi- nal of Spain, and others of the highest religious dignitaries of the land. I picture to myself the scene when this place was filled with the conquering host, that mixture of mitred prel- ate and shaven monk, and steel-clad knight and silken courtier ; when crosses and crosiers and religious standards were mingled with proud armorial ensigns and the banners of the haughty chiefs of Spain, and flaunted in tri- umph through these Moslem halls. I picture to myself Columbus, the future discoverer of a world, taking his modest stand in a remote corner, the humble and neglected spectator of Court of Zions 165 the pageant. I see in imagination the Catholic sovereigns prostrating themselves before the altar, and pouring forth thanks for their vic- tory ; while the vaults resound with sacred minstrelsy, and the deep-toned Te Deum. The transient illusion is over, the pageant melts from the fancy, monarch, priest, and warrior return into oblivion with the poor Moslems over whom they exulted. The hall of their triumph is waste and desolate. The bat flits about its twilight vault, and the owl hoots from the neighboring Tower of Comares. Entering the Court of the I^ions a few even- ings since, I was almost startled at beholding a turbaned Moor quietly seated near the fountain. For a moment one of the fictions of the place seemed realized : an enchanted Moor had broken the spell of centuries, and become visible. He proved, however, to be a mere ordinary mortal, a native of Tetuan, in Bar- bary, who had a shop in the Zacatin of Gra- nada, where he sold rhubarb, trinkets, and perfumes. As he spoke Spanish fluently, I was enabled to hold conversation with him, and found him shrewd and intelligent. 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 of the old 166 Gbe Blbambra palaces in Barbary, being built and adorned in similar style, though with more magnificence. As we walked about the palace, he pointed out several of the Arabic inscriptions, as possessing much poetic beauty. "Ah, seiior," said he, "when the Moors held Granada, they were a gayer people than they are nowadays. They thought only of love, music, and poetry. They made stanzas upon every occasion, and set them all to music. He who could make the best verses, and she who had the most tuneful voice, might be sure of favor and preferment. In those days, if any one asked for bread, the reply was ' Make me a couplet' ; and the poorest beggar, if he begged in rhyme, would often be rewarded with a piece of gold. ' ' "And is the popular feeling for poetry," said I, " entirely lost among you ? " " By no means, seiior ; the people of Barbary, even those of the lower classes, still make couplets and good ones too as in old times ; but talent is not rewarded as it was then. The rich prefer the jingle of their gold to the sound of poetry or music." As he was talking, his eye caught one of the inscriptions which foretold perpetuity to the power and glory of the Moslem monarchs, the masters of this pile. He shook his head, and Court of 3Lion 167 shrugged his shoulders, as he interpreted it. "Such might have been the case," said he; " the Moslems might still have been reigning in the Alhambra, had not Boabdil been a traitor, and given up his capital to the Chris- tians. The Spanish monarchs would never have been able to conquer it by open force. ' ' I endeavored to vindicate the memory of the unlucky Boabdil from this aspersion, and to show that the dissensions which led to the downfall of the Moorish throne originated in the cruelty of his tiger-hearted father. But the Moor would admit of no palliation. " Muley Abul Hassan," said he, "might have been cruel ; but he was brave, vigilant, and patriotic. Had he been properly seconded, Granada would still have been ours ; but his son Boabdil thwarted his plans, crippled his power, sowed treason in his palace and dissen- sion in his camp. May the curse of God light upon him for his treachery ! ' ' With these words the Moor left the Alhambra. The indignation of my turbaned companion agrees with an anecdote related by a friend, who, in the course of a tour in Barbary, had an interview with the Pacha of Tetuan. The Moorish governor was particular in his in- quiries about Spain, and especially concerning the favored region of Andalusia, the delights 168 Blbambra of Granada, and the remains of its royal palace. The replies awakened all those fond recollec- tions, so deeply cherished by the Moors, of the power and splendor of their ancient empire in Spain. Turning to his Moslem attendants, the Pacha stroked his beard, and broke forth in passionate lamentations that such a sceptre should have fallen from the sway of true believers. He consoled himself, however, with the persuasion that the power and prosperity of the Spanish nation were on the decline; that a time would come when the Moors would conquer their rightful domains, and that the day was perhaps not far distant when Mohammedan worship would again be offered up in the mosque of Cordova, and a Mohammedan prince sit on his throne in the Alhambra. Such is the general aspiration and belief among the Moors of Barbary, who consider Spain, or Andaluz, as it was anciently called, their rightful heritage, of which they have been despoiled by treachery and violence. These ideas are fostered and perpetuated by the descendants of the exiled Moors of Granada, scattered among the cities of Barbary. Several of these reside in Tetuan, preserving their ancient names, such as Paez and Medina, and refraining from intermarriage with any families who cannot claim the same high origin. Their bc Court of OLfons 169 vaunted lineage is regarded with a degree of popular deference rarely shown in Moham- medan communities to any hereditary distinc- tion, excepting in the royal line. These families, it is said, continue to sigh after the terrestrial paradise of their ancestors, and to put up prayers in their mosques on Fridays, imploring Allah to hasten the time when Granada shall be restored to the faithful : an event to which they look forward as fondly and confidently as did the Christian crusaders to the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. Nay, it is added that some of them retain the ancient maps and deeds of the estates and gardens of their ancestors at Granada, and even the keys of the houses, holding them as evidences of their hereditary claims, to be produced at the anticipated day of restoration. My conversation with the Moors set me to musing on the fate of Boabdil. Never was surname more applicable than that bestowed upon him by his subjects, of El Zogoybi, or The Unlucky. His misfortunes began almost in his cradle, and ceased not even with his death. If ever he cherished the desire of leaving an honorable name on the historic page, how cruelly has he been defrauded of his hopes ! Who is there that has turned the least attention to the romantic history of the Moorish domina- 170 aibambra tion in Spain, without kindling with indigna- tion 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 infi- delity? Who has not been shocked by his alleged murder of his sister and her two chil- dren, in a transport of passion ? Who has not felt his blood boil at the inhuman massacre of the gallant Abencerrages, thirty-six of whom, it is affirmed, he ordered to be beheaded in the Court of Lions ? All these charges have been reiterated in various forms ; they have passed into ballads, dramas, and romances, until they have taken too thorough possession of the public mind to be eradicated. There is not a foreigner of education that visits the Alhambra but asks for the fountain where the Abencerrages were beheaded, and gazes with horror at the grated gallery where the queen is said to have been confined ; not a peasant of the Vega or the Si- erra but sings the story in rude couplets, to the accompaniment of his guitar, while his hearers learn to execrate the very name of Boabdil. Never, however, was name more foully and unjustly slandered. I have examined all the authentic chronicles and letters written by Spanish authors contemporary with Boabdil ; some of whom were in the confidence of the Court of "Lions m Catholic sovereigns, and actually present in the camp throughout the war. I have exam- ined all the Arabian authorities I could get access to, through the medium of translation, and have found nothing to justify these dark and hateful accusations. The most of these tales may be traced to a work commonly called "The Civil Wars of Granada," contain- ing a pretended history of the feuds of the Zegries and Abencerrages, during the last struggle of the Moorish empire. The work appeared originally in Spanish, and professed to be translated from the Arabic by one Gines Perez de Hita, an inhabitant of Murcia. It has since passed into various languages, and Florian has taken from it much of the fable of his Gonsalvo of Cordova. It has thus, in a great measure, usurped the authority of real history, and is currently believed by the peo- ple, and especially the peasantry of Granada. The whole of it, however, is a mass of fiction, mingled with a few disfigured truths, which give it an air of veracity. It bears internal evidence of its falsity ; the manners and cus- toms of the Moors being extravagantly mis- represented in it, and scenes depicted totally incompatible with their habits and their faith, and which never could have been recorded by a Mohammedan writer. ITbe Zllbambra I confess there seems to me something almost criminal in the wilful perversions of this work : great latitude is undoubtedly to be allowed to romantic fiction, but there are limits which it must not pass ; and the names of the distin- guished dead, which belong to history, are no more to be calumniated than those of the illus- trious living. One would have thought, too, that the unfortunate Boabdil had suffered enough for his justifiable hostility to the Span- iards, by being stripped of his kingdom, without having his name thus wantonly tra- duced, and rendered a by-word and a theme of infamy in his native land, and in the very mansion of his fathers ! If the reader is sufficiently interested in these questions to tolerate a little historical detail, the following facts, gleaned from what appear to be authentic sources, and tracing the fortunes of the Abencerrages, may serve to ex- culpate the unfortunate Boabdil from the per- fidious massacre of that illustrious line so shamelessly charged to him. It will also serve to throw a proper light upon the alleged accusation and imprisonment of his queen. TTbe Hbencerrages. A GRAND line of distinction existed among the Moslems of Spain, between those of Oriental origin and those from Western Africa. Among the former the Arabs considered themselves the purest race, as being descended from the countrymen of the Prophet, who first raised the standard of Islam ; among the latter, the most warlike and powerful were the Berber tribes from Mount Atlas and the deserts of Sahara, commonly known as Moors, who subdued the tribes of the sea-coast, founded the city of Morocco, and for a long time disputed with the Oriental races the con- trol of Moslem Spain. Among the Oriental races the Abencerrages held a distinguished rank, priding themselves on a pure Arab descent from the Beni Seraj, one of the tribes who were Ansares or Com- panions of the Prophet. The Abencerrages nourished for a time at Cordova ; but probably 174 Cbe Slbambra repaired to Granada after the downfall of the Western Caliphat ; it was there they attained their historical and romantic celebrity, being foremost among the splendid chivalry which graced the court of the Alhambra. Their highest and most dangerous prosperity was during the precarious reign of Muhamed Nasar, surnamed Bl Hayzari, or The Left- handed. That ill-starred monarch, when he ascended the throne in 1423, lavished his favors upon this gallant line, making the head of the tribe, Jusef Abeii Zeragh, his vizier, or prime-minister, and advancing his relatives and friends to the most distinguished posts about the court. This gave great offence to other tribes, and caused intrigues among their chiefs. Muhamed lost popularity also by his manners. He was vain, inconsiderate, and haughty ; disdained to mingle among his sub- jects ; forbade those jousts and tournaments, the delight of high and low, and passed his time in the luxurious retirement of the Alhambra. The consequence was a popular insurrection ; the palace was stormed ; the king escaped through the gardens, fled to the sea-coast, crossed in disguise to Africa, and took refuge with his kinsman, the sovereign of Tunis. Muhamed el Zaguer, cousin of the fugitive monarch, took possession of the vacant throne. Cbe Bbencerrages 175 He pursued a different course from his prede- cessor. He not only gave fetes and tourneys, but entered the lists himself, in grand and sumptuous array ; he distinguished himself i:i managing his horse, in tilting, riding at the ring, and other chivalrous exercises ; feasted with his cavaliers, and made them magnificent presents. Those who had been in favor with his prede- cessor, now experienced a reverse ; he mani- fested such hostility to them that more than five hundred of the principal cavaliers left the city. Jusef Aben Zeragh, with forty of the Abencerrages, abandoned Granada in the night, and sought the court of Juan the King of Castile. Moved by their representations, that young and generous monarch wrote let- ters to the sovereign of Tunis, inviting him to assist in punishing the usurper and restoring the exiled king to his throne. The faithful and indefatigable vizier accompanied the bearer of these letters to Tunis, where he rejoined his exiled sovereign. The letters were successful. Muhamed el Hayzari landed in Andalusia with five hundred African horse, and was joined by the Abencerrages and others of his adherents and by his Christian allies. Wherever he ap- peared the people submitted to him ; troops sent against him deserted to his standard; Granada was recovered without a blow ; the Blbambra usurper retreated to the Alhambra, but was beheaded by his own soldiers (1428), after reigning between two and three years. El Hayzari, once more on the throne, heaped honors on the loyal vizier, through whose faith- ful services he had been restored, and once more the line of the Abencerrages basked in the sunshine of royal favor. El Hayzari sent ambassadors to King Juan, thanking him for his aid, and proposing a perpetual league of amity. The King of Castile required homage and yearly tribute. These the left-handed mon- arch refused, supposing the youthful king too much engaged in civil war to enforce his claims. Again the kingdom of Granada was harassed by invasions, and its Vega laid waste. Various battles took place with various success. But El Hayzari' s greatest danger was near at home. There was at that time in Granada a cavalier, Don Pedro Venegas by name, a Moslem by faith, but Christian by descent, whose early history borders on romance. He was of the noble house of L,uque, but captured when a child, eight years of age, by Cid Yahia Alnayar, Prince of Almeria,* who adopted him as his son, educated him in the Moslem faith, and brought him up among his children, the Celti- merian princes, a proud family, descended in * Alcantara, "Hist. Granad.," O. 3, p. 226, note. Bbencerrages 177 direct line from Aben Hud, one of the early Granadian kings. A mutual attachment sprang up between Don Pedro and the Princess Cetimerien, a daughter of Cid Yahia, famous for her beauty, and whose name is perpetuated by the ruins of her palace in Granada still bearing traces of Moorish elegance and luxury. In process of time they were married ; and thus a scion of the Spanish house of L,uque became engrafted on the royal stock of Aben Hud. Such is the early story of Don Pedro Vene- gas who, at the time of which we treat was a man mature in years, and of an active, ambi- tious spirit. He appears to have been the soul of a conspiracy set on foot about this time to topple Muhamed the L,eft-handed from his un- steady throne and elevate in his place Yusef Aben Alhamar, the eldest of the Celtimerian princes. The aid of the King of Castile was to be secured, and Don Pedro proceeded on a secret embassy to Cordova for the purpose. He informed King Juan of the extent of the conspiracy ; that Yusef Aben Alhamar could bring a large force to his standard as soon as he should appear in the Vega, and would acknowledge himself his vassal, if with his aid he should attain the crown. The aid was promised, and Don Pedro hastened back to Granada with the tidings. The conspirators Blbambra now left the city a few at a time under various pretexts, and when King Juan passed the frontier, Yusef Aben Alhamar brought eight thousand men to his standard and kissed his hand in token of allegiance. It is needless to recount the various battles by which the kingdom was desolated, and the various intrigues by which one half of it was roused to rebellion. The Abencerrages stood by the failing fortunes of Muhamed throughout the struggle ; their last stand was at Loxa where their chief, the vizier Yusef Aben Ze- ragh, fell bravely fighting, and many of their noblest cavaliers were slain ; in fact, in that disastrous war the fortunes of the family were nearly wrecked. Again the ill-starred Muhamed was driven from his throne and took refuge in Malaga, the Alcayde of which still remained true to him. Yusef Aben Alhamar, commonly known as Yusef II., entered Granada in triumph on the ist of January, 1432, but he found it a melan- choly city, where half of the inhabitants were in mourning. Not a noble family but had lost some member ; and in the slaughter of the Abencerrages at Loxa had fallen some of the brightest of the chivalry. The royal pageant passed through silent streets, and the barren homage of a court in the Bbencerrages 179 halls of the Alhambra ill supplied the want of sincere and popular devotion. Yusef Aben Al- hamar felt the insecurity of his position. The deposed monarch was at hand in Malaga ; the sovereign of Tunis espoused his cause and pleaded with the Christian monarchs in his favor ; above all, Yusef felt his own unpopu- larity in Granada ; previous fatigues had im- paired his health, a profound melancholy settled upon him, and in the course of six months he sank into the grave. At the news of his death, Muhamed the Left-handed hastened from Malaga and again was placed on a throne. From the wrecks of the Abencerrages he chose as vizier Abdelbar, one of the worthiest of that magnanimous line. Through his advice he restrained his vindic- tive feelings and adopted a conciliatory policy. He pardoned most of his enemies. Yusef, the defunct usurper, had left three children. His estates were apportioned among them. Aben Celim, the eldest son, was confirmed in the title of Prince of Almeria and Lord of Marchena in the Alpuxarras. Ahmed, the youngest, was made Senor of L,uchar ; and Kquivila, the daughter, received rich patrimonial lands in the fertile Vega and various houses and shops in the Zacatin of Granada. The vizier Abdel- bar counselled the king, moreover, to secure i8o Woe aibambra the adherence of the family by matrimonial connections. An aunt of Muhamed was ac- cordingly given in marriage to Aben Celim, while the Prince Nasar, younger brother of the deceased usurper, received the hand of the beautiful kindaraxa, daughter of Muhamed's faithful adherent, the Alcayde of Malaga. This was the I,indaraxa whose name still designates one of the gardens of the Alhambra. Don Pedro de Venegas alone, the husband of the Princess Cetimerien, received no favor. He was considered as having produced the late troubles by his intrigues. The Abencer- rages charged him with the reverses of their family and the deaths of so many of their bravest cavaliers. The king never spoke of him but by the opprobrious appellation of the Tornadizo, or Renegade. Finding himself in danger of arrest and punishment, he took leave of his wife, the princess, his two sons, Abul Cacim and Reduan, and his daughter, Ceti- merien, and fled to Jaen. There, like his brother-in-law, the usurper, he expiated his intrigues and irregular ambition by profound humiliation and melancholy, and died in 1434 a penitent, because a disappointed man.* * Salazar y Castro, " Hist. Genealog. de la Casa de Lara," lib. v., c. 12, cited by Alcantara in his "Hist. Granad." Cbe abencerrages 181 Muhamed el Hayzari was doomed to further reverses. He had two nephews, Aben Osmyn, surnamed El Anaf, or The Lame, and Aben Ismael. The former, who was of an ambitious spirit, resided in Almeria ; the latter in Gra- nada, where he had many friends. He was on the point of espousing a beautiful girl, when his royal uncle interfered and gave her to one of his favorites. Enraged at this despotic act, the Prince Aben Ismael took horse and weapons and sallied from Granada for the frontier, followed by numerous cavaliers. The affair gave general disgust, especially to the Abencerrages who were attached to the prince. No sooner did tidings reach Aben Osmyn of the public discontent than his ambition was aroused. Throwing himself suddenly into Granada, he raised a popular tumult, surprised his uncle in the Alhambra, compelled him to abdicate, and proclaimed himself king. This occurred in September, 1445. The Abencer- rages now gave up the fortunes of the left- handed king as hopeless, and- himself as in- competent to rule. Led by their kinsman, the vizier Abdelbar, and accompanied by many other cavaliers, they abandoned the court and took post in Montefrio. Thence Abdelbar wrote to Prince Aben Ismael, who had taken refuge in Castile, inviting him to the camp, Blbambra offering to support his pretensions to the throne, and advising him to leave Castile secretly, lest his departure should be opposed by King Juan II. The prince, however, con- fiding in the generosity of the Castilian monarch, told frankly the whole matter. He was not mistaken. King Juan not merely gave him permission to depart, but promised him aid, and gave him letters to that effect to his commanders on the frontiers. Aben Ismael departed with a brilliant escort, arrived in safety at Montefrio, and was proclaimed King of Granada by Abdelbar and his partisans, the most important of whom were the Abencer- rages. A long course of civil wars ensued between the two cousins, rivals for the throne. Aben Osmyn was aided by the kings of Navarre and Aragon, while Juan II., at war with his rebellious subjects, could give little assistance to Aben Ismael. Thus for several years the country was torn by internal strife and desolated by foreign inroads, so that scarce a field but was stained with blood. Aben Osmyn was brave, and often signalized himself in arms ; but he was cruel and despotic, and ruled with an iron hand. He offended the nobles by his caprices, and the populace by his tyranny, while his rival cousin conciliated all hearts by his Bbencerrages benignity. Hence there were continual deser- tions from Granada to the fortified camp at Montefrio, and the party of Aben Ismael was constantly gaining strength. At length the King of Castile, having made peace with the kings of Aragon and Navarre, was enabled to send a choice body of troops to the assistance of Aben Ismael. The latter now left his trenches in Montefrio, and took the field. The combined forces marched upon Granada. Aben Osmyn sallied forth to the encounter. A bloody battle ensued, in which both of the rival cousins fought with heroic valor. Aben Osmyn was defeated and driven back to his gates. He summoned the inhabitants to arms, but few answered to his call ; his cruelty had alienated all hearts. Seeing his fortunes at an end, he determined to close his career by a signal act of vengeance. Shutting himself up in the Alhambra, he summoned thither a number of the principal cavaliers whom he suspected of disloyalty. As they entered, they were one by one put to death. This is supposed by some to be the massacre which gave its fatal name to the Hall of the Abencerrages. Having perpetrated this atrocious act of vengeance, and hearing by the shouts of the populace that Aben Ismael was already proclaimed king in the city, he escaped with his satellites Blbambra by the Cerro del Sol and the valley of the Darro to the Alpuxarra Mountains ; where he and his followers led a kind of robber life, laying villages and roads under contribution. Aben Ismael II., who thus attained the throne in 1454, secured the friendship of King Juan II. by acts of homage and magnificent presents. He gave liberal rewards to those who had been faithful to him, and consoled the families of those who had fallen in his cause. During his reign, the Abencerrages were again among the most favored of the brilliant chivalry that graced his court. Aben Ismael, however, was not of a warlike spirit ; his reign was distinguished rather by works of public utility, the ruins of some of which are still to be seen on the Cerro del Sol. In the same year of 1454 Juan II. died, and was succeeded by Henry IV. of Castile, sur- named the Impotent. Aben Ismael neglected to renew the league of amity with him which had existed with his predecessor, as he found it to be unpopular with the people of Granada. King Henry resented the omissions, and, under pretext of arrears of tribute, made re- peated forays into the kingdom of Granada. He gave countenance also to Aben Osmyn and his robber hordes, and took some of them into pay ; but his proud cavaliers refused to asso- Bbencerrages 185 ciate with infidel outlaws, and determined to seize Aben Osmyn ; who, however, made his escape, first to Seville, and thence to Castile. In the year 1456, on the occasion of a great foray into the Vega by the Christians, Aben Ismael, to secure a peace, agreed to pay the King of Castile a certain tribute annually, and at the same time to liberate six hundred Chris- tian captives ; or, should the number of cap- tives fall short, to make it up in Moorish hostages. Aben Ismael fulfilled the rigorous terms of the treaty, and reigned for a number of years with more tranquillity than usually fell to the lot of the monarchs of that bel- ligerent kingdom. Granada enjoyed a great state of prosperity during his reign, and was the seat of festivity and splendor. His sultana was a daughter of Cid Hiaya Abraham Al- nayar, Prince of Almeria ; and he had by her two sons, Abul Hassan, and Abi Abdallah, surnamed El Zagal, the father and uncle of Boabdil. We approach now the eventful period signalized by the conquest of Granada. Muley Abul Hassan succeeded to the throne on the death of his father in 1465. One of his first acts was to refuse payment of the degrading tribute exacted by the Castilian monarch. His refusal was one of the causes of the subsequent disastrous war. I confine 1 86 Blbambra myself, however, to facts connected with the fortunes of the Abencerrages and the charges advanced against Boabdil. The reader will recollect that Don Pedro Venegas, surnamed El Tornadizo, when he fled from Granada in 1433, left behind him two sons, Abul Cacim and Reduan, and a daughter, Cetimerien. They always enjoyed a distinguished rank in Granada, from their royal descent by the mother's side, and from being connected, through the princes of Al- meria, with the last and the present king. The sons had distinguished themselves by their talents and bravery, and the daughter Cetimerien was married to Cid Hiaya, grand- son of King Yusef and brother-in-law of El Zagal. Thus powerfully connected, it is not surprising to find Abul Cacim Venegas ad- vanced to the post of vizier of Muley Abul Hassan, and Reduan Venegas one of his most favored generals. Their rise was regarded with an evil eye by the Abencerrages, who remembered the disasters brought upon their family, and the deaths of so many of their line, in the war fomented by the intrigues of Don Pedro in the days of Yusef Aben Alhamar. A feud had existed ever since between the Abencerrages and the house of Venegas. It was soon to be aggravated by Bbcncerrages 187 a formidable schism which took place in the royal harem. Muley Abul Hassan, in his youthful days, had married his cousin, the Princess Ayxa la Horra, daughter of his uncle, the ill-starred sultan, Muhamed the lycft-Handed * ; by her he had two sons, the eldest of whom was Boabdil, heir presumptive to the throne. Un- fortunately at an advanced age he took an- other wife, Isabella de Solis, a young and beautiful Christian captive, better known by her Moorish appellation of Zoraya ; by her he had also two sons. Two factions were produced in the palace by the rivalry of the sultanas, who were each anxious to secure for their children the succession to the throne. Zoraya was supported by the vizier Abul Cacim Venegas, his brother Reduan Venegas, and their numerous connections, partly through sympathy with her as being, like themselves, of Christian lineage, and partly because they saw she was the favorite of the doting mon- arch. The Abencerrages, on the contrary, rallied round the Sultana Ayxa , partly through hereditary opposition to the family of Vene- gas, but chiefly, no doubt, through a strong feeling of loyalty to her as daughter of * Al Makkari, B. viii., c. 7. 2Ubambra Muhamed el Hayzari, the ancient benefactor of their line. The dissensions of the palace went on in- creasing. Intrigues of all kinds took place, as is usual in royal palaces. Suspicions were artfully instilled in the mind of Muley Abul Hassan that Ayxa was engaged in a plot to depose him and put her son Boabdil on the throne. In his first transports of rage he con- fined them both in the Tower of Comares, threatening the life of Boabdil. At dead of night the anxious mother lowered her son from a window of the tower by the scarfs of herself and her female attendants ; and some of her adherents, who were in waiting with swift horses, bore him away to the Alpuxarras. It is this imprisonment of the Sultana Ayxa which possibly gave rise to the fable of the queen of Boabdil being confined by him in a tower to be tried for her life. No other shadow of a ground exists for it, and here we find the tyrant jailer was his father, and the captive sultana his mother. The massacre of the Abencerrages in the halls of the Alhambra is placed by some about this time, and attributed also to Muley Abul Hassan, on suspicion of their being concerned in the conspiracy. The sacrifice of a number of the cavaliers of that line is said to have been Torre de la Cautiva. Ube Bbencerrages 189 suggested by the vizier Abul Cacim Venegas, as a means of striking terror into the rest.* If such were really the case, the barbarous meas- ure proved abortive. The Abencerrages con- tinued intrepid, as they were loyal, in their adherence to the cause of Ayxa and her son Boabdil, .throughout the war which ensued, while the Venegas were ever foremost in the ranks of Muley Abul Hassan and Kl Zagal. The ultimate fortune of these rival families is worthy of note. The Venegas, in the last struggle of Granada, were among those who submitted to the conquerors, renounced the Moslem creed, returned to the faith from which their ancestor had apostatized, were rewarded with offices and estates, intermarried with Spanish families, and have left posterity among the nobles of the land. The Abencerrages remained true to their faith, true to their king, true to their desperate cause, and went down with tho foundering wreck of Moslem domina- tion, leaving nothing behind them but a gallant and romantic name in history. In this historical outline, I trust I have shown enough to put the fable concerning * Alcantara, "Hist. Granad.," c. 17. See also Al Makkari, "Hist. Mohama. Dynasties," B. viii. c. 7, with the " Commentaries of Don Pascual de Guyan- gos." ?) 1 (/< igo Blbambra Boabdil and the Abencerrages in a true light. The story of the accusation of his queen, and his cruelty to his sister, are equally void of foundation. In his domestic relations he ap- pears to have been kind and affectionate. History gives him but one wife, Morayma, the daughter of the veteran Alcayde of Loxa, old Aliatar, famous in song and story for his ex- ploits in border warfare, and who fell in that disastrous foray into the Christian lands in which Boabdil was taken prisoner. Morayma was true to Boabdil throughout all his vicissi- tudes. When he was dethroned by the Cas- tilian monarchs, she retired with him to the petty domain allotted him in the valleys of the Alpuxarras. It was only when (dispossessed of this by the jealous precautions and subtle chicanery of Ferdinand, and elbowed, as it were, out of his native land) he was preparing to embark for Africa, that her health and spirits, exhausted by anxiety and long suffer- ing, gave way, and she fell into a lingering illness aggravated by corroding melancholy. Boabdil was constant and affectionate to her to the last ; the sailing of the ships was delayed for several weeks, to the great annoyance of the suspicious Ferdinand. At length Morayma sank into the grave, evidently the victim of a broken heart, and the event was reported to ube Bbencerrages Ferdinand by his agent as one propitious to his purposes, removing the only obstacle to the embarkation of Boabdil. * For authorities for these latter facts, see the Appen- dix to the author's revised edition of the " Conquest of Granada." /IDementos of JBoab&U. WHIIyK my mind was still warm with the subject of the unfortunate Boab- dil, I set forth to trace the mementos of him still existing in this scene of his sove- reignty and misfortunes. In the Tower of Co- mares, immediately under the Hall of Ambas- sadors, are two vaulted rooms, separated by a narrow passage. These are said to have been the prisons of himself and his mother, the virtuous Ayxa la Horra. Indeed, no other part of the tower would have served for the purpose. The external walls of these chambers are of prodigious thickness, pierced with small windows secured by iron bars. A narrow stone gallery, with a low parapet, extends along three sides of the tower just below the windows, but at a considerable height from the ground. From this gallery, it is presumed, the queen lowered her son with the scarfs of herself and her female attendants during the Mementos of 193 darkness of the night to the hillside, where some of his faithful adherents waited with fleet steeds to bear him to the mountains. Between three and four hundred years have elapsed, yet this scene of the drama remains almost unchanged. As I paced the gallery, my imagination pictured the anxious queen leaning over the parapet, listening, with the throbbings of a mother's heart, to the last echoes of the horses' hoofs as her son scoured along the narrow valley of the Darro. I next sought the gate by which Boabdil made his last exit from the Alhambra, when about to surrender his capital and kingdom. With the melancholy caprice of a broken spirit, or perhaps with some superstitious feeling, he requested of the Catholic monarchs that no one afterwards might be permitted to pass through it. His prayer, according to ancient chroni- cles, was complied with, through the sympathy of Isabella, and the gate was walled up.* I inquired for some time in vain for such a * Ay una puerta en la Alhambra por la qual salio Chico Rey de los Moros, quando si rindio prisionero al Rey de Espana D. Fernando, y le entreg6 la ciudad con el Castillo. Pidio esta principe como por merced, y en memoria de tan importante conquista, al que quedasse siempre cerrada esta puerta. Consintio en allo el Rey Fernando, y des de aquel tiempo no sola- mente no se abrio la puerta sino tatnbien se construyo 1 i 194 Slbambra portal. At length my humble attendant, Mateo Ximenes, said it must be one closed up with stones, which, according to what he had heard from his father and grandfather, was the gateway by which King Chico had left the fortress. There was a mystery about it, and it had never been opened within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. He conducted me to the spot. The gateway is in the centre of what was once an immense pile, called the Tower of the Seven Floors (L,a Torre de los Siete Suelos). It is famous in the neighborhood as the scene of strange appari- tions and Moorish enchantments. According to Swinburne, the traveller, it was originally the great gate of entrance. The antiquaries of Granada pronounce it the entrance to that quarter of the royal residence where the king's body-guards were stationed. It, therefore, might well form an immediate entrance and exit to the palace ; while the grand Gate of Justice served as the entrance of state to the fortress. When Boabdil sallied by this gate to descend to the Vega, where he was to surrender the keys of the city to the Spanish sovereigns, he left his vizier, Aben Comixa, to receive at the Gate of Justice the detachment from the junto a ella fuerte bastion. Moreri's "Historical Dictionary," Spanish edition, vol. i., p. 372. Mementos of JBoab&il 195 Christian army and the officers to whom the fortress was to be given up.* The once redoubtable Tower of the Seven Floors is now a mere wreck, having been blown up with gunpowder by the French, when they abandoned the fortress. Great masses of the wall lie scattered about, buried in luxuriant herbage, or overshadowed by vines and fig-trees. The arch of the gateway, though rent by the shock, still remains ; but the last wish of poor Boabdil has again, though unintentionally, been fulfilled, for the portal has been closed up by loose stones gathered from the ruins, and remains impassable. Mounting my horse, I followed up the route of the Moslem monarch from this place of his exit. Crossing the hill of Los Martyros, and keeping along the garden wall of a convent bearing the same name, I descended a rugged ravine beset by thickets of aloes and Indian figs, and lined with caves and hovels swarming with gypsies. The descent was so steep and broken that I was fain to alight and lead my horse. By this via dolorosa poor Boabdil took * The minor details of the surrender of Granada have been stated in different ways even by eye- witnesses. The author, in his revised edition of the " Conquest," has endeavored to adjust them according to the latest and apparently best authorities. Ebe Blbambra his sad departure to avoid passing through the city ; partly, perhaps, through unwillingness that its inhabitants should behold his humilia- tion ; but chiefly, in all probability, lest it might cause some popular agitation. For the last reason, undoubtedly, the detachment sent to take possession of the fortress ascended by the same route. Emerging from this rough ravine, so full of melancholy associations, and passing by the Puerta de los Molinos (the Gate of the Hills), I issued forth upon the public promenade called the Prado ; and pursuing the course of the Xenil, arrived at a small chapel, once a mosque, now the Hermitage of San Sebastian. Here, according to tradition, Boabdil surrendered the keys of Granada to King Ferdinand. I rode slowly thence across the Vega to a village where the family and household of the un- happy king awaited him, for he had sent them forward on the preceding night from the Al- hambra, that his mother and wife might not participate in his personal humiliation, or be exposed to the gaze of the conquerors. Fol- lowing on in the route of the melancholy band of royal exiles, I arrived at the foot of a chain of barren and dreary heights, forming the skirt of the Alpuxarra mountains. From the sum- mit of one of these the unfortunate Boabdil Aementos of JBoab&tl 197 took his last look at Granada ; it bears a name expressive of his sorrows, La Cuesta de las Lagrimas (the Hill of Tears). Beyond it, a sandy road winds across a rugged, cheerless waste, doubly dismal to the unhappy monarch, as it led to exile. I spurred my horse to the summit of a rock, where Boabdil uttered his last sorrowful ex- clamation, as he turned his eyes from taking a farewell gaze : it is still denominated El Ultimo Suspiro del Moro (the Last Sigh of the Moor). Who can wonder at his anguish at being ex- pelled from such a kingdom and such an abode ? With the Alhambra he seemed to be yielding up all the honors of his line, and all the glories and delights of life. It was here, too, that his affliction was embit- tered by the reproach of his mother, Ayxa, who had so often assisted him in times of peril, and had vainly sought to instil into him her own resolute spirit. "You do well," said she, " to weep as a woman over what you could not defend as a man " ; a speech savoring more of the pride of the princess than the tenderness of the mother. When this anecdote was related to Charles V., by Bishop Guevara, the emperor joined in the expression of scorn at the weakness of the wavering Boabdil. ' ' Had I been he, or he Blbambra been I," said the haughty potentate, " I would rather have made this Alhambra my sepulchre than have lived without a kingdom in the Al- puxarra." How easy it is for those in power and prosperity to preach heroism to the van- quished ! How little can they understand that life itself may rise in value with the unfortu- nate, when naught but life remains ! Slowly descending the Hill of Tears, I let my horse take his own loitering gait back to Gra- nada, while I turned the story of the unfortu- nate Boabdil over in my mind. In summoning up the particulars, I found the balance inclining in his favor. Throughout the whole of his brief, turbulent, and disastrous reign, he gives evidence of a mild and amiable character. He, in the first instance, won the hearts of his people by his affable and gracious manners ; he was always placable, and never inflicted any severity of punishment upon those who occasionally rebelled against him. He was personally brave, but wanted moral courage ; and, in times of difficulty and perplexity, was wavering and irresolute. This feebleness of spirit hastened his downfall, while it deprived him of that heroic grace which would have given grandeur and dignity to his fate, and rendered him worthy of closing the splendid drama of the Moslem domination in Spain. public ffetes of (Branafca. MY devoted squire and whilom ragged cicerone Mateo Ximenes had a poor- devil passion for fetes and holidays, and was never so eloquent as when detailing the civil and religious festivals at Granada. During the preparations for the annual Cath- olic fete of Corpus Christi, he was in a state of incessant transition between the Alhambra and the subjacent city, bringing me daily accounts of the magnificent arrangements that were in progress, and endeavoring, but in vain, to lure me down from my cool and airy retreat to wit- ness them. At length, on the eve of the eventful day, I yielded to his solicitations, and descended from the regal halls of the Alhambra under his escort, as did of yore the adventure- seeking Haroun Alraschid under that of his Grand Vizier Giaffar. Though it was yet scarce sunset, the city gates were already thronged with the picturesque villagers of the Blbambca mountains, and the brown peasantry of the Vega. Granada has ever been the rallying- place of a great mountainous region, studded with towns and villages. Hither, during the Moorish domination, the chivalry of this re- gion repaired, to join in the splendid and semi- warlike fe~tes of the Vivarrambla ; and hither the elite of its population still resort to join in the pompous ceremonials of the Church. Indeed, many of the mountaineers from the Alpuxarras and the Sierra de Ronda, who now bow to the cross as zealous Catholics, bear the stamp of their Moorish origin, and are indubitable descendants of the fickle subjects of Boabdil. Under the guidance of Mateo, I made my way through streets already teeming with a holiday population, to the square of the Vivar- rambla, that great place for tilts and tourneys so often sung in the Moorish ballads of love and chivalry. A gallery or arcade of wood had been erected along the sides of the square, for the grand religious procession of the fol- lowing day. This was brilliantly illuminated for the evening as a promenade ; and bands of music were stationed on balconies on each of the four faades of the square. All the fashion and beauty of Granada, all of its population of either sex that had good looks or fine clothes public ffetes of (SranaDa 201 to display, thronged this arcade, promenading round and round the Vivarrambla. Here, too, were the majos and ma/as, the rural beaux and belles, with fine forms, flashing eyes, and gay Andalusian costumes ; some of them from Ronda itself, that stronghold of the mountains, famous for contrabandistas, bull-fighters, and beautiful women. While this gay but motley throng kept up a constant circulation in the gallery, the centre of the square was occupied by the peasantry from the surrounding country, who made no pretensions to display, but came for simple, hearty enjoyment. The whole square was covered with them ; forming separate groups of families and neighborhoods, like gipsy en- campments. Some w r ere listening to the tradi- tional ballad, drawled out to the tinkling of the guitar ; some were engaged in gay con- versation ; some were dancing to the click of the Castanet. As I threaded my way through this teeming region, with Mateo at my heels, I passed occasionally some rustic party, seated on the ground, making a merry though frugal repast. If they caught my eye as I loitered by, they almost invariably invited me to par- take of their simple fare. This hospitable usage, inherited from their Moslem invaders, and originating in the tent of the Arab, is uni- tlbe Blbambra versal throughout the land, and observed by the poorest Spaniard. As the night advanced, the gayety gradually died away in the arcades, the bands of music ceased to play, and the brilliant crowd dis- persed to their homes. The centre of the square still remained well peopled, and Mateo assured me that the greater part of the peasantry, men, women and children, would pass the night there, sleeping on the bare earth, beneath the open canopy of heaven. Indeed, a summer night requires no shelter in this favored climate ; and a bed is a superfluity which many of the hardy peasantry of Spain never enjoy, and which some of them affect to despise. The common Spaniard wraps himself in his brown cloak, stretches himself on his mania or mule-cloth, and sleeps soundly, luxuriously accommodated if he can have a saddle for a pillow. In a little while the words of Mateo were made good ; the peasant multi- tude nestled down on the ground to their night's repose, and by midnight the scene on the Vivarrambla resembled the bivouac of an army. The next morning, accompanied by Mateo, I revisited the square at sunrise. It was still strewed with groups of sleepers. Some were reposing from the dance and revel of the even- public $te8 of (BranaDa 203 ing ; others, who had left their villages after work on the preceding day, having trudged on foot the greater part of the night, were taking a sound sleep to freshen themselves for the festivities of the day. Numbers from the mountains, and the remote villages of the plain, who had set out in the night, continued to arrive with their wives and children. All were in high spirits, greeting each other and exchanging jokes and pleasantries. The gay tumult thickened as the day advanced. Now came pouring in at the city gates, and parading through the streets, the deputations from the various villages, destined to swell the grand procession. These village deputations were headed by their priests, bearing their respective crosses and banners, and images of the blessed Virgin and of patron saints ; all which were matters of great rivalship and jealousy among the peasantry. It was like the chivalrous gatherings of ancient days, when each town and village sent its chiefs, and warriors, and standards, to defend the capital, or grace its festivities. At length all these various detachments congregated into one grand pageant, which slowly paraded round the Vivarrambla, and through the principal streets, where every window and balcony was hung with tapestry. C^Nouse of tbe TKHeatbercocfc 219 rocks and trees ; the Darro overflowed its banks ; mills were swept away, bridges de- stroyed, gardens laid waste ; the inundation rushed into the city, undermining houses, drowning their inhabitants, and overflowing even the square of the Great Mosque. The people rushed in affright to the mosques to implore the mercy of Allah, regarding this uproar of the elements as the harbinger of dreadful calamities ; and, indeed, according to the Arabian historian Al Makkari, it was but a type and prelude of the direful war which ended in the downfall of the Moslem kingdom of Granada I have thus given historic authorities suffi- cient to show the portentous mysteries con- nected with the House of the Weathercock, and its talismanic horseman. I now proceed to relate still more surprising things about Aben Habuz and his palace ; for the truth of which, should any doubt be enter- tained, I refer the dubious reader to Mateo Ximenes and his fellow-historiographers of the Alhambra. of tbe Brabian Bstrologer. IN old times, many hundred years ago, there was a Moorish king named Aben Habuz, who reigned over the kingdom of Granada. He was a retired conqueror that is to say, one who, having in his more youthful days led a life of constant foray and depredation, now that he was grown feeble and superannuated, " languished for repose," and desired nothing more than to live at peace with all the world, to husband his laurels, and to enjoy in quiet the possessions he had wrested from his neighbors. It so happened, however, that this most reasonable and pacific old monarch had young rivals to deal with ; princes full of his early passion for fame and fighting, and who were disposed to call him to account for the scores he had run up with their fathers. Certain distant districts of his own territories, also, which during the days of his vigor he had Tower and Hotel of the Siete Suelos, Alhambra. stretcher. !3Legen) of tbe Btabian Bstrologcr 221 treated with a high hand, were prone, now that he languished for repose, to rise in rebel- lion and threaten to invest him in his capital. Thus he had foes on every side ; a^d as Granada is surrounded by wild and craggy mountains, which hide the approach of an enemy, the unfortunate Aben Habuz was kept in a constant state of vigilance and alarm, not knowing in what quarter hostilities might break out. It was in vain that he built watch-towers on the mountains, and stationed guards at every pass with orders to make fires by night and smoke by day, on the approach of an enemy. His alert foes, baffling every precaution, would break out of some 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 predicament ? While Aben Habuz was harassed by these perplexities and molestations, an ancient Ara- bian physician arrived at his court. His gray beard descended to his girdle, and he had every mark of extreme age, yet he had travelled almost the whole way from Egypt on foot, with no other aid than a staff, marked with hiero- glyphics. His fame had preceded him. His name was Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub ; he was tlbe Slbambra said to have lived ever since the days of Ma- homet, 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 into Egypt, where he had remained many years studying the dark sciences, and particu- larly magic, among the Egyptian priests. It was, moreover, said that he had found out the secret of prolonging life, by means of which he had arrived to the great age of upwards of two centuries, though, as he did not discover the secret until well stricken in years, he could only perpetuate his gray hairs and wrinkles. This wonderful old man was honorably enter- tained by the king, who, like most superan- nuated monarchs, began to take physicians into great favor. He would have assigned him an apartment in his palace, but the astrologer pre- ferred a cave in the side of the hill which rises above the city of Granada, being the same on which the Alhambra has since been built. He caused the cave to be enlarged so as to form a spacious and lofty hall, with a circular hole at the top, through which, as through a well, he could see the heavens and behold the stars even at mid-day. The walls of this hall were cov- ered with Egyptian hieroglyphics with cabal- istic symbols, and with the figures of the stars in their signs. This hall he furnished with XegenD of tbe Arabian astrologer 223 many implements, fabricated under his direc- tions by cunning artificers of Granada, but the occult properties of which were known only to himself. In a little while the sage Ibrahim became the bosom counsellor of the king, who applied to him for advice in every emergency. Aben Ha- buz was once inveighing against the injustice of his neighbors, and bewaihng the restless vigil- ance he had to observe to guard himself against their invasions ; when he had finished, the as- trologer remained silent for a moment, and 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 turn- ing upon a pivot. Whenever the country was threatened with invasion, the ram would turn in the direction of the enemy, and the cock would crow ; upon this the inhabitants of the city knew of the danger, and of the quarter from which it was approaching, and could take timely means to guard against it. ' ' " God is great ! " exclaimed the pacific Aben Habuz, "what a treasure would be such a ram to keep an eye upon these mountains around me ; and then such a cock, to crow in time of 224 Blbambra danger ! Allah Akbar ! how securely I might sleep in my palace with such sentinels on the top!" The astrologer waited until the ecstasies of the king had subsided, and then proceeded. " After the victorious Amru (may he rest in peace !) had finished his conquest of Egypt, I remained among the priests of the land, study- ing the rites and ceremonies of their idolatrous faith, and seeking to make myself master of the hidden knowledge for which they are re- nowned. I was one day seated on the banks of the Nile, conversing with an ancient priest, when he pointed to the mighty pyramids which rose like mountains out of the neighboring desert. ' All that we can teach thee, ' said he, ' is nothing to the knowledge locked up in those mighty piles. In the centre of the central pyr- amid is a sepulchral chamber, in which is en- closed the mummy of the high-priest who aided in rearing that stupendous pile ; and with him is buried a wondrous book of knowledge, con- taining all the secrets of magic and art. This book was given to Adam after his fall, and was handed down from generation to generation to King Solomon the Wise, and by its aid he built the Temple of Jerusalem. How it came into the possession of the builder of the pyramids is known to Him alone who knows all things.' XegenD of tbe Srabtan Betrologer 225 " When I heard these words of the Egyptian priest, my heart burned to get possession of that book. I could command the services of many of the soldiers of our conquering army, and of a number of the native Egyptians. With these I set to work, and pierced the solid mass of the pyramid, until, after great toil, I came upon one of its interior and hidden passages. Following this up, and threading a fearful labyrinth, I penetrated into the very heart of the pyramids, even to the sepulchral chamber, where the mummy of the high-priest had lain for ages. I broke through the outer cases of the mummy, unfolded its many wrappers and bandages, and at length found the precious volume on its bosom. I seized it with a trem- bling hand, and groped my way out of the pyramid, leaving the mummy in its dark and silent sepulchre, there to await the final day of resurrection and judgment." "Son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed Aben Habuz, " thou hast been a great traveller, and seen marvellous things ; but of what avail to me is the secret of the pyramid, and the vol- ume of knowledge of the wise Solomon ? " " This it is, O king ! By the study of that book I am instructed in all magic arts, and can command the assistance of genii to accomplish my plans. The mystery of the Talisman of 226 ttbe Blbambra Borsa is therefore familiar to me, and such a talisman can I make, nay, one of greater virtues." ' ' O wise son of Abu Ay ub, ' ' cried Aben Habuz, " better were such a talisman than all the watch-towers on the hills, and sentinels upon the borders. Give me such a safeguard, and the riches of my treasury are at thy command. ' ' The astrologer immediately set to work to gratify the wishes of the monarch. He caused a great tower to be erected upon the top of the royal palace, which stood on the brow of the hill of the Albaycin. The tower was built of stones brought from Egypt, and taken, it is said, from one of the pyramids. In the upper part of the tower was a circular hall, with windows looking towards every 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 Chal- daic 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. Xe0en& of tbc Hrabian Bstrologer 227 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 appointed to watch the tower, that the face of the bronze horse- man was turned towards the mountains of Elvira, and that his lance pointed directly against the Pass of lyope. " 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 enemies. Dismiss your attendants, and let us proceed alone to the secret hall of the tower." The ancient Aben Habuz mounted the stair- case of the tower, leaning on the arm of the 228 Blbambra still more ancient Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub. They unlocked the brazen door and entered. The window that looked towards the Pass of lyope 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, to his surprise, he per- ceived that they were all in motion. The horses pranced and curveted, the warriors brandished their weapons, and there was a faint sound of drums and trumpets, and the clang of arms, and neighing of steeds ; but all no louder, nor more distinct, than the hum of the bee, or the summer-fly, in the drowsy ear of him who lies at noontide in the shade. "Behold, 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 retreat without loss of life, strike these effigies with the but-end of this magic lance; would you cause bloody feud and carnage, strike with the point. ' ' A livid streak passed across the countenance of Aben Habuz; he seized the lance with trembling eagerness ; his gray beard wagged Xegenfc of tbe Srabian astrologer 229 with exultation as he tottered toward the table : ' ' Son of Abu Ayub, ' ' exclaimed he, in chuckling tone, ' ' I think we will have a little blood!" So saying, he thrust the magic lance into some of the pigmy effigies, and belabored others with the but-end, upon whiqh the former fell as dead upon the board, and the rest, turn- ing upon each other, began, pell-mell, a chance- medley fight. It was with difficulty the astrologer could stay the hand of the most pacific of monarchs, and prevent him from absolutely extermina- ting his foes. At length he prevailed upon him to leave the tower, and to send out scouts to the mountains by the Pass of I^ope. They returned with the intelligence that a Christian army had advanced through the heart of the Sierra, almost within sight of Granada, where a dissension had broken out among them ; they had turned their weapons against each other, and after much slaughter had 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 tran- quillity, and have all my enemies in my power. O wise son of Abu Ayub, what can I bestow on thee in reward for such a blessing ? " 230 Blbambra ' ' 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 her- mitage, 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 astrological 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 require covering." He had baths too constructed, and provided with all kinds of perfumes and aromatic oils. " For a bath," said he, " is necessary to coun- teract the rigidity of age, and to restore fresh- ness and suppleness to the frame withered by study." He caused the apartments to be hung with innumerable silver and crystal lamps, which he filled with a fragrant oil prepared according of tbe Brabian astrologer 231 to a receipt discovered by him in the tombs of Egypt. This oil was perpetual in its nature, and diffused a soft radiance like the tempered light of day. ' ' The light of the sun, ' ' said he, ' ' is too gairish and violent for the eyes of an old man, and the light of the lamp is more congenial to the studies of a philosopher. ' ' The treasurer of King Aben Habuz groaned at the sums daily demanded to fit up this her- mitage, and he carried his complaints to the king. The royal word, however, had been given ; Aben Habuz shrugged his shoulders : ' ' We must have patience, ' ' said he ; " this old man has taken his idea of a philosophic retreat from the interior of the pyramids, and of the vast ruins of Egypt ; but all things have an end, and so will the furnishing of his cavern." The king was in the right ; the hermitage was at length complete, and formed a sumptu- ous subterranean palace. The astrologer ex- pressed himself perfectly content, and, shutting himself up, remained for three whole days buried in study. At the end of that time lie appeared again before the treasurer. ' ' One thing more is necessary, ' ' said he, ' ' one trifling solace for the intervals of mental labor. ' ' "O wise Ibrahim, I am bound to furnish everything necessary for thy solitude ; what more dost thou require ? ' ' 232 Blbambra " I would fain have a few dancing- women. " ' ' Dancing- women ! ' ' echoed the treasurer, with surprise. " Dancing- women," replied the sage, grave- ly ;" and let them be young and fair to look upon ; for the sight of youth and beauty is refreshing. A few will suffice, for I am a phil- osopher of simple habits and easily satisfied." While the philosophic Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub passed his time thus sagely in his her- mitage, the pacific Aben Habuz carried on furious campaigns in effigy in his tower. It was a glorious thing for an old man, like him- self, 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. Fpr a time he rioted in the indulgence of his humors, and even taunted and insulted his neighbors, 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 groxv peevish at his monotonous tranquillity. At length, one day, the talismanic horseman OLegenD of tbe Brabfan astrologer 233 veered suddenly round, and lowering his lance, made a dead point towards the mountains of Gaudix. Aben Habuz hastened to his tower, but the magic table in that direction remained quiet. Not a single warrior was in motion. Perplexed at the circumstance, he sent forth a troop of horse to scour the mountains and reconnoitre. They returned after three days' absence. " We have searched every mountain pass," said they, ' ' but not a helm or a spear was stir- ring. All that we have found in the course of our foray was a Christian damsel of surpassing beauty, sleeping at noontide beside a fountain, whom we have brought away captive." ' ' A damsel of surpassing beauty ! ' ' ex- claimed Aben Habuz, his eyes gleaming with animation ; "let her be conducted into my presence." The beautiful damsel was accordingly con- ducted into his presence. She was arrayed 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 fore- head, rivalling the lustre of her eyes. Around her neck was a golden chain, to which was sus- pended a silver lyre, which hung by her side. 234 Blbambra The flashes of her dark refulgent eye were like sparks of fire on the withered, yet com- bustible, heart of Aben Habuz ; the swimming voluptuousness of her gait made his senses reel. " Fairest of women," cried he, with rapture, ' ' who and what art thou ? ' ' ' ' The daughter of one of the Gothic princes, who but lately ruled over this land. The armies of my father have been destroyed, as if by magic, among these mountains ; he has been driven into exile, and his daughter is a captive. ' ' "Beware, O king!" whispered Ibrahim Kbn Abu Ayub, ' ' this may be one of those northern sorceresses of whom we have heard, who assume the most seductive forms to be- guile the unwary. Methinks I read witch- craft in her eye, and sorcery in every move- ment. Doubtless this is the enemy pointed out by the talisman." "Son of Abu Ayub," replied the king, " thou art a wise man, I grant, a conjurer for aught I know ; but thou art little versed in the ways of woman. In that knowledge will I yield to no man ; no, not to the wise Solomon himself, notwithstanding the number of his wives and concubines. As to this damsel, I see no harm in her ; she is fair to look upon, and finds favor in my eyes." ^ffi of tbe Brabian Bstrolo0er. 235 " Hearken, O king ! " replied the astrologer. "I have given thee many victories by means of my talisman, but have never shared any of the spoil. Give me then this stray captive, to solace me in my solitude with her silver lyre. If she be indeed a sorceress, I have counter spells that set her charms at defiance. ' ' ' ' What ! more women ! ' ' cried Aben Ha- buz. ' ' Hast thou not already dancing- women enough to solace thee ? ' ' " Dancing- women have I, it is true, but no singing-women. I would fain have a little minstrelsy to refresh my mind when weary with the toils of study. ' ' ' ' A truce with thy hermit cravings, ' ' said the king, impatiently. "This damsel have I marked for my own. I see much comfort in her : even such comfort as David, the father of Solomon the Wise, found in the society of Abishag theShunamite." Further solicitations and remonstrances of the astrologer only provoked a more peremp- tory reply from the monarch, and they parted in high displeasure. The sage shut himself up in his hermitage to brood over his disap- pointment ; ere he departed, however, he gave the king one more warning to beware of his dangerous captive. But where is the old man in love that will listen to counsel ? Aben I I Cbe Blbambra Habuz resigned himself to the full sway of his passion. His only study was how to render himself amiable in the eyes of the Gothic beauty. He had not youth to recommend him, it is true, but then he had riches ; and when a lover is old, he is generally generous. The Zacatin of Granada was ransacked for the most precious merchandise of the East ; silks, jewels, precious gems, exquisite perfumes, all that Asia and Africa yielded of rich and rare, were lavished upon the princess. All kinds of spectacles and festivities were devised for her entertainment ; minstrelsy, dancing, tourna- ments, bull-fights ; Granada for a time was a scene of perpetual pageant. The Gothic prin- cess regarded all this splendor with the air of one accustomed to magnificence. She received everything as a homage due to her rank, or rather to her beauty ; for beauty is more lofty in its exactions even than rank. Nay, she seemed to take a secret pleasure in exciting the monarch to expenses that made his treasury shrink, and then treating his extravagant generosity as a mere matter of course. With all his assiduity and munificence, also, the venerable lover could not flatter himself that he had made any impression on her heart. She never frowned on him, it is true, but then she never smiled. Whenever he began to plead his passion, she of tbe Srabian astrologer 237 struck her silver lyre. There was a mystic charm in the sound. In an instant the mon- arch began to nod ; a drowsiness stole over him, and he gradually sank into a sleep, from which he awoke wonderfully refreshed, but perfectly cooled, for the time, of his passion. This was very baffling to his suit ; but then these slum- bers were accompanied by agreeable dreams, which completely enthralled the senses of the drowsy lover ; so he continued to dream on, while all Granada scoffed at his infatuation, and groaned at the treasures lavished for a song. At length a danger burst on the head of Aben Habuz, against which his talisman yielded him no \varning. An insurrection broke out in his very capital ; his palace was surrounded by an armed rabble, who menaced his life and the life of his Christian paramour. A spark of his ancient warlike spirit was awakened in the breast of the monarch. At the head of a handful of his guards he sallied forth, put the rebels to flight, and crushed the insurrection in the bud. When quiet was again restored, he sought the astrologer, who still remained shut up in his hermitage, chewing the bitter cud of resent- ment. Aben Habuz approached him with a concilia- tory tone. " O wise son of Abu Ayub," said he, ' ' well didst thou predict dangers to me from 238 Cbe Slbambra this captive beauty ; tell me then, thou who art so quick at foreseeing peril, what I should do to avert it. ' ' ' ' Put from thee the infidel damsel who is the cause. ' ' ' ' Sooner would I part with my kingdom, ' ' cried Aben Habuz. "Thou art m danger of losing both, " replied the astrologer. ' ' Be not harsh and angry, O most profound of philosophers ; consider the double distress of a monarch and a lover, and devise some means of protecting me from the evils by which I am menaced. I care not for grandeur, I care not for power, I languish only for repose ; would that I had some quiet retreat where I might take refuge from the world, and all its cares, and pomps, and troubles, and devote the re- mainder of my days to tranquillity and love. The astrologer regarded him for a moment from under his bushy eyebrows. "And what wouldst thou give, if I could provide thee such a retreat ? ' ' ' ' Thou shouldst name thy own reward, and whatever it might be, if within the scope of my power, as my soul liveth, it should be thine." ' ' Thou hast heard, O king, of the garden of Irem, one of the prodigies of Arabia the happy." Xegenfc of tbe Srabian Bstroto0er 239 " I have heard of that garden ; it is recorded in the Koran, even in the chapter entitled ' The Dawn of Day.' I have, moreover, heard mar- vellous things related of it by pilgrims who had been to Mecca ; but I considered them wild fables, such as travellers are wont to tell who have visited remote countries." ' ' Discredit not, O king, the tales of travel- lers," rejoined the astrologer, gravely, "for they contain precious rarities of knowledge brought from the ends of the earth. As to the palace and garden of Irem, what is generally told of them is true. I have seen them with mine own eyes ; listen to my adventure, for it has a bearing upon the object of your request. " In my younger days, when a mere Arab of the desert, I tended my father's camels. In traversing the desert of Aden, one of them strayed from the rest, and was lost. I searched after it for several days, but in vain, until, wearied and faint, I laid myself down at noon- tide, 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 pal- ace, with a garden adorned with fountains and fish-ponds, and groves and flowers, and or- Gbe Bibambra chards laden with delicious fruit ; but still no one was to be seen. Upon which, appalled at this loneliness, I hastened to depart ; and, af- ter issuing forth at the gate of the city, I turned to look upon the place, but it was no longer to be seen : nothing but the silent desert extended before my eyes. "In the neighborhood I met with an aged dervise, learned in the traditions and secrets of the land, and related to him what had befallen me. ' This,' said he, ' is the far-famed garden of Irem, one of the wonders of the desert. It only appears at times to some wanderer like thyself, gladdening him with the sight of towers and palaces and garden walls overhung with richly laden fruit-trees, and then vanishes, leaving nothing but a lonely desert. And this is the story of it. In old times, when this country was inhabited by the Addites, King Sheddad, the son of Ad, the great grandson of Noah, founded here a splendid city. When it was finished, and he saw its grandeur, his heart was puffed up with pride and arrogance, and he determined to build a royal palace, with gar- dens which should rival all related in the Koran of the celestial paradise. But the curse of heaven fell upon him for his presumption. He and his subjects were swept from the earth, and his splendid city, and palace, and gardens, were of tbe Srabfan astrologer 241 laid under a perpetual spell, which hides them from human sight, excepting that they are seen at intervals, by way of keeping his sin in per- petual remembrance.' ' ' This story, O king, and the wonders I had seen, ever dwelt in my mind ; and in after- years, when I had been in Egypt, and was possessed of the book of knowledge of Solo- mon the Wise, I determined to return and revisit the garden of Irem. I did so, and found it revealed to my instructed sight. I took 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 revealed 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 a palace and garden, O king, can I make for thee, even here, on the mountain above thy city. Do I not know all the secret spells ? and am I not in possession of the book of knowledge of Solomon the Wise ? ' ' ' ' O wise son of Abu Ayub ! ' ' exclaimed Aben Habuz, trembling with eagerness, "thou art a traveller indeed, and hast seen and learned marvellous things ! Contrive me such a paradise, and ask any reward, even to the half of my kingdom. ' ' 242 Blbambra "Alas ! " replied the other, " thou knowest I am an old man, and a philosopher, and easily satisfied ; all the reward I ask is the first beast of burden, with its load, which shall enter the magic portal of the palace. ' ' The monarch gladly agreed to so moderate a stipulation, and the astrologer began his work. On the summit of the hill, immediately above his subterranean hermitage, he caused a great gateway or barbican to be erected, opening through the centre of a strong tower. There was an outer vestibule or porch, with a lofty arch, and within it a portal secured by massive gates. On the keystone of the portal the astrologer, with his own hand, wrought the figure of a huge key ; and on the keystone of the outer arch of the vestibule, which was loftier than that of the portal, he carved a gigantic hand. These were potent talismans, over which he repeated many sen- tences in an unknown tongue. When this gateway was finished, he shut himself up for two days in his astrological hall, engaged in secret incantations ; on the third he ascended the hill, and passed the whole day on its summit. At a late hour of the night he came down, and presented himself before Aben Habuz. "At length, O king," said he, ' ' my labor is accomplished. On the legeno of tbe Arabian astrologer 243 summit of the hill stands one of the most delectable palaces that ever the head of man devised, or the heart of man desired. It co&- tains sumptuous halls and galleries, delicious gardens, cool fountains, and fragrant baths ; in a word, the whole mountain is converted into a paradise. L,ike the garden of 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-morrow morning with the first light we will ascend and take possession. ' ' The happy monarch slept but little that night. Scarcely had the rays of the sun begun to play about the snowy summit of the Sierra Nevada, when he mounted his steed, and, accompanied only by a few chosen attendants, ascended a steep and narrow road leading up the hill. Beside him, on a white palfrey, rode the Gothic princess, her whole dress sparkling with jew- els, while round her neck was suspended her silver lyre. The astrologer walked on the other side of the king, assisting his steps with his hieroglyphic staff, for he never mounted steed of any kind. Aben Habuz looked to see the towers of the palace brightening above him, and the embow- ered terraces of its gardens stretching along 244 tlbe Slbambra the heights ; but as yet nothing of the kind was to be descried. ' ' That is the mystery and safeguard of the place, ' ' said the astrolo- ger ; ' ' nothing can be discerned until you have passed the spell-bound gateway, and been put in possession of the place. ' ' As they approached the gateway, the astrolo- ger paused, and pointed out to the king the mystic hand and key carved upon the portal of the arch. "These," said he, "are the talismans which guard the entrance to this paradise. Until yonder hand shall reach down and seize that key, neither mortal power nor magic artifice can prevail against the lord of this mountain." While Aben Habuz was gazing, with open mouth and silent wonder, at these mystic talis- mans, the palfrey of the princess proceeded, and bore her in at the portal, to the very centre of the barbican. ' ' Behold, ' ' cried the astrologer, ' ' my prom- ised reward ; the first animal with its burden which should enter the magic gateway. ' ' Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleasantry of the ancient man ; but when he found him to be in earnest, his gray beard trembled with indignation. "Son of Abu Ayub," said he, sternly, "what equivocation is this? Thou knowest Xegeno of tbe Srabian astrologer 245 the meaning of my promise : the first beast of burden, with its load, that should enter this portal. Take the strongest mule in my stables, load it with the most precious things of my treasury, and it is thine ; but dare not raise thy thoughts to her who is the delight of my heart." ' ' What need I of wealth ? ' ' cried the astrolo- ger, scornfully ; ' ' have I not the book of knowledge of Solomon the Wise, and through it the command of the secret treasures of the earth ? The princess is mine by right ; thy royal word is pledged ; I claim her as my own. ' ' The princess looked down haughtily from her palfrey, and a light smile of scorn curled her rosy lip at this dispute between two gray- beards for the possession of youth and beauty. The wrath of the monarch got the better of his discretion. ' ' Base son of the desert, ' ' cried he, ' ' thou mayst be master of many arts, but know me for thy master, and presume not to juggle with thy king." ' ' My master ! my king ! ' ' echoed the as- trologer, " the monarch of a mole-hill to claim sway over him who possesses the talis- mans 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, 2 4 6 Blbambra smote the earth with his staff, and sank with the Gothic princess through the centre of the barbican. The earth closed over them, and no trace remained of the opening by which they had descended. Aben Habuz was struck dumb for a time with astonishment. Recovering himself, he ordered a thousand workmen to dig, with pickaxe and spade, into the ground where the astrologer had disappeared. They digged and digged, but in vain ; the flinty bosom of the hill resisted their implements ; or if they did penetrate a little way, the earth 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 nowhere to be found. Where once had been an entrance, was now a solid surface of primeval rock. With the disappearance of Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub ceased the benefit of his talismans. The bronze horseman 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 Xegeno of tbe Brabfan astrologer 247 peasant one day brought word to the king, that in the preceding night he had found a fissure in the rock, by which he had crept in, until he looked down into a subterranean hall, in which sat the astrologer, on a magnificent divan, slumbering and nodding to the silver lyre of the princess, which seemed to hold a magic sway over his senses. Aben Habuz sought the fissure in the rock, but it was again closed. He renewed the attempt to unearth his rival, but all in vain. The spell of the hand and key was too potent to be counteracted by human power. As to the summit of the mountain, the site of the promised palace and garden, it remained 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 neighbors whom he had defied and taunted, and cut up at his leisure while master of the talismanic horseman, 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 monarchs was a tissue of turmoils. 2 4 8 Blbambra 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 Irem. The spellbound gate- way still exists entire, protected no doubt by the mystic hand and key, and now forms the Gate of Justice, the grand entrance to the fortress. Under that gateway, it is said, the old astrologer remains in his subterranean hall, nodding on his divan, lulled by the silver lyre of the princess. The old invalid sentinels who mount guard at the gate hear the strains occasionally in the summer nights ; and, yielding to their soporific power, doze quietly at their posts. Nay, so drowsy an influence pervades the place, that even those who watch by day may generally be seen nodding on the stone benches of the barbican, or sleeping under the neighboring trees ; so that in fact it is the drowsiest military post in all Christendom. All this, say the ancient legends, will endure from age to age. The princess will remain captive to the astrolo- ger ; and the astrologer, bound up in magic slumber by the princess, until the last day, unless the mystic hand shall grasp the fated key, and dispel the whole charm of this en- chanted mountain. Xegeno of tbe Hrabtan astrologer 249 NOTE TO THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. Al Makkari, in his " History of the Mohammedan Dynasties in Spain, "cites from another Arabian writer an account of a talismanic effigy somewhat similar to the one in the foregoing legend. In Cadiz, says he, there formerly stood a square tower upwards of one hundred cubits high, built of huge blocks of stone, fastened together with clamps of brass. On the top was the figure of a man, holding a staff in his right hand, his face turned to the At- lantic, and pointing with the forefinger of his left hand to the Straits of Gibraltar. It was said to have been set up in ancient times by the Gothic kings of Andalus, as a beacon or guide to navigators. The Moslems of Barbary and Andalus considered it a talis- man which exercised a spell over the seas. Under its guidance, swarms of piratical people of a nation called Majus, appeared on the coast in large vessels with a square sail in the bow, and another in the stern. They came every six or seven years ; captured every thing they met with on the sea ; guided by the statue, they passed through the Straits into the Mediterranean, landed on the coasts of Andalus, laid everything waste with fire and sword ; and sometimes carried their depredations on the opposite coasts even as far as Syria. At length it came to pass in the time of the civil wars, a Moslem admiral who had taken possession of Cadiz, hearing that the statue on top of the tower was of pure gold, had it lowered to the ground and broken to pieces, when it proved to be of gilded brass. With the destruction of the idol, the spell over the sea was at an end. From that time forward nothing more was seen of the piratical people of the ocean, except- ing that two of their barks were wrecked on the coast, one at Marsu-1-Majus (the port of the Majus), the other close to the promontory of Al-Aghan. The maritime invaders above mentioned by Al Makkari must have been the Northmen. Disftors to tbe Blbambra. FOR nearly three months had I enjoyed undisturbed my dream of sovereignty in the Alhambra, a longer term of quiet than had been the lot of many of my predeces- sors. During this lapse of time the progress of the season had wrought the usual change. On my arrival I had found everything in the freshness of May ; the foliage of the trees was still tender and transparent ; the pome- granate had not yet shed its brilliant crimson blossoms ; the orchards of the Xenil and the Darro were in full bloom ; the rocks were hung with wild flowers, and Granada seemed com- pletely surrounded by a wilderness of roses ; among which innumerable nightingales sang, not merely in the night, but all day long. Now the advance of summer had withered the rose and silenced the nightingale, and the distant country began to look parched and sun- burnt, though a perennial verdure reigned im- 252 Blbambra mediately round the city and in the deep narrow valleys at the foot of the snow-capped moun- tains. The Alhambra possesses retreats graduated to the heat of the weather, among which the most peculiar is the almost subterranean apart- ment 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 architecture. It is overlooked by a small gallery supported by marble pillars and Morisco arches. An ala- baster 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 plat- forms, where the bathers, after their ablutions, reclined on 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 interior chambers, still more retired ; the sanctum sanctorum of female privacy ; for here the beauties of the Harem indulged in the luxury of the baths. A soft mysterious light reigns through the place, admitted through small apertures (lum- breras) in the vaulted ceiling. The traces of ancient elegance are still to be seen, and the Visitors to tbe Slbambra 253 alabaster baths in which the sultans once reclined. The prevailing obscurity and si- lence have made these vaults a favorite resort of bats, who nestle during the day in the dark nooks and corners, and on being disturbed, flit mysteriously about the twilight chambers, heightening, in an indescribable degree, their air of desertion and decay. In this cool and elegant, though dilapidated retreat, which had the freshness and seclusion of a grotto, I passed the sultry hours of the day as summer advanced, emerging towards sunset ; and bathing, or rather swimming, at night in the great reservoir of the main court. In this way I was enabled in a measure to counteract the relaxing and enervating influ- ence of the climate. My dream of absolute sovereignty, how- ever, came at length to an end. I was roused one morning by the report of fire-arms, which reverberated among the towers as if the castle had been taken by surprise. On sallying forth, I found an old cavalier with a number of do- mestics in possession of the Hall of the Am- bassadors. He was an ancient count who had come up from his palace in Granada to pass a short time in the Alhambra for the benefit of purer air ; and who, being a veteran and in- veterate sportsman, was endeavoring to get an 254 aibambra appetite for his breakfast by shooting at swal- lows 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 themselves seemed to enjoy the sport, and to deride his want of skill, skim- ming in circles close to the balconies, and twittering as they darted by. The arrival of this old gentleman changed essentially the aspect of affairs, but caused no jealousy nor collision. We tacitly shared the empire between us, like the last kings of Granada, excepting that we maintained a most amicable alliance. He reigned absolute over the Court of the Lions and its adjacent halls, while I maintained peaceful possession of the regions of the bath and the little garden of lyindaraxa. We took our meals together under the arcades of the court, where the fountains cooled the air, and bubbling rills ran along the channels of the marble pave- ment. In the evenings a domestic circle would gather about the worthy old cavalier. The countess, his wife by a second marriage, would come up from the city accompanied by her step-daughter Carmen, an only child, a charm- Visitors to tbe aibambra 255 ing little being, still in her girlish years. Then there were always some of his official depend- ants, his chaplain, his lawyer, his secretary, his steward, and other officers and agents of his extensive possessions, who brought him up the news or gossip of the city, and formed his evening party of tresillo or ombre. Thus he held a kind of domestic court, where each one paid him deference, and sought to contribute to his amusement, without, however, any ap- pearance of servility, or any sacrifice of self- respect. In fact, nothing of the kind was exacted by the demeanor of the count ; for whatever may be said of Spanish pride, it rarely chills or constrains the intercourse of social or domestic life. Among no people are the relations between kindred more unre- served and cordial, or between superior and dependant more free from haughtiness on the one side, and obsequiousness on the other. In these respects there still remains in Spanish life, especially in the provinces, much of the vaunted simplicity of the olden time. The most interesting member of this family group, in my eyes, was the daughter of the count, the lovely little Carmen. She was but about sixteen years of age, and appeared to be considered a mere child, though the idol of the family, going generally by the childlike but [ggj^^p* (^&Tj ^^^^j^^fc- /\ "^^^yV"***^ C7"^\ ^f^P^I 2 5 6 SIbambra endearing appellation of La Nina. Her form had not yet attained full maturity and develop- ment, but possessed already the exquisite symmetry and pliant grace so prevalent in this country. Her blue eyes, fair complexion, and light hair were unusual in Andalusia, and gave a mildness and gentleness to her de- meanor in contrast to the usual fire of Spanish beauty, but in unison with the guileless and confiding innocence of her manners. She had at the same time the innate aptness and versa- tility of her fascinating countrywomen. What- ever she undertook to do she did well and apparently without effort. She sang, played the guitar and other instruments, and danced the picturesque dances of her country to ad- miration, but never seemed to seek admiration. Everything was spontaneous, prompted by her own gay spirits and happy temper. The presence of this fascinating little being spread a new charm about the Alhambra, and seemed to be in unison with the place. While the count and countess, with the chaplain or secretary, were playing their game of tresillo under the vestibule of the Court of L,ions, she, attended by Dolores, who acted as her maid of honor, would sit by one of the fountains, and, accompanying herself on the guitar, would sing some of those popular romances which Visitors to tbe Hlbambra abound in Spain, or, what was still more to my taste, some traditional ballad about the Moors. Never shall I think of the Alhambra with- out remembering this lovely little being, sporting in happy and innocent girlhood in its marble halls, dancing to the sound of the Moorish castanets, or mingling the silver warbling of her voice with the music of its fountains. IRelics ant) (Benealogfes. IF I had been pleased and interested by the count and his family, as furnishing a pic- ture of a Spanish domestic life, I was still more so when apprised of historical circum- stances which linked them with the heroic times of Granada. In fact, in this worthy old cavalier, so totally unwarlike, or whose deeds in arms extended, at most, to a war on swal- lows and martlets, I discovered a lineal de- scendant and actual representative of Gonsalvo of Cordova, ' ' The Grand Captain, ' ' who won some of his brightest laurels before the walls of Granada, and was one of the cavaliers com- missioned by Ferdinand and Isabella to nego- tiate the terms of surrender ; nay, more, the count was entitled, did he choose it, to claim remote affinity with some of the ancient Moor- ish princes, through a scion of his house, Don Pedro Venegas, surnamed the Tornadizo ; and by the same token his daughter, the fascinat- IRelicg anD (Senealogtes 259 ing little Carmen, might claim to be rightful representative of the Princess Cetimerien or the beautiful L,indaraxa.* Understanding from the count that he had some curious relics of the Conquest, preserved in his family archives, I accompanied him early one morning down to his palace in Gra- nada to examine them. The most important of these relics was the sword of the Grand Captain ; a weapon destitute of all ostentatious ornament, as the weapons of great generals are apt to be, with a plain hilt of ivory and a * I/est this should be deemed a mere stretch of fancy, the reader is referred to the following geneal- ogy, derived by the historian Alcantara, from an Arabian manuscript, on parchment in the archives of the Marquis of Corvera. It is a specimen of the curious affinities between Christians and Moslems, produced by capture and intermarriages, during the Moorish wars. From Aben Hud, the Moorish king, the conqueror of the Almohades, was descended in right line Cid Yahia Abraham Alnagar, Prince of Almeria, who married a daughter of King Bermejo. They had three children, commonly called the Celti- merian princes, ist. Jusef ben Alhamar, who for a time usurped the throne of Granada. 2d. The Prince Nasar, who married the celebrated Lindaraxa. 3d. The Princess Cetimerien, who married Don Pedro Venegas, captured by the Moors in his boyhood, a younger son of the House of Luque, of which house the old count was the present head. Blbambra broad thin blade. It might furnish a comment on hereditary honors, to see the sword of the Grand Captain legitimately declined into such feeble hands. The other relics of the Conquest were a number of espingardas or muskets of unwieldy size and ponderous weight, worthy to rank with those enormous two-edged swords pre- served in old armories, which look like relics from the days of the giants. Besides other hereditary honors, I found the old count was Alferez mayor, or grand stand- ard-bearer, in which capacity he was entitled to bear the ancient standard of Ferdinand and Isabella, on certain high and solemn occasions, and to wave it over their tombs. I was shown also the caparisons of velvet, sumptuously em- broidered with gold and silver, for six horses, with which he appeared in state when a new sovereign was to be proclaimed in Granada and Seville ; the count mounting one of the horses, and the other five being led by lackeys in rich liveries. I had hoped to find among the relics and antiquities of the count's palace some speci- mens of the armor and weapons of the Moors of Granada, such as I had heard were preserved as trophies by the descendants of the conquer- ors ; but in this I was disappointed. I was the IRelics and (Senealoflies 261 more curious in this particular, because an erroneous idea has been entertained by many, as to the costumes of the Moors of Spain ; supposing them to be of the usual Oriental type. On the contrary, we have it on the authority of their own writers, that they adopted in many respects the fashions of the Christians. The turban, especially, so identi- fied in idea with the Moslem, was generally abandoned, except in the western provinces, where it continued in use among people of rank and wealth, and those holding places under government. A woollen cap, red or green, was commonly worn as a substitute ; probably the same kind originating in Barbary, and known by the name of Tunis or Fez, which at the present day is worn throughout the East, though generally under the turban. The Jews were obliged to wear them of a yellow color. In Murcia, Valencia, and other eastern provinces, men of the highest rank might be seen bareheaded. The warrior king, Aben Hud, never wore a turban, neither did his rival and competitor, Alhamar, the founder of the Alhambra. A short cloak called Tay- lasan, similar to that seen in Spain in the six- teenth and seventeenth centuries, was worn by all ranks. It had a hood or cape which people 262 aibambra of condition sometimes drew over the head ; but the lower class never. A Moslem cavalier in the thirteenth century, as described by Ibn Said, was equipped for war very much in the Christian style. Over a complete suit of mail he wore a short scarlet tunic. His helmet was of polished steel ; a shield was slung at his back ; he wielded a huge spear with a broad point, sometimes a double point. His saddle was cumbrous, projecting very much in front and in rear, and he rode with a banner fluttering behind him. In the time of Al Khattib of Granada, who wrote in the fourteenth century, the Moslems of Andalus had resumed the Oriental costumes, and were again clad and armed in Arabic fashion : with light helmet, thin but well- tempered cuirass, long slender lance, commonly of reed, Arabian saddle, and leathern buckler, made of double folds of the skin of the antelope. A wonderful luxury prevailed at that time in the arms and equipments of the Granadian cavaliers. Their armor was inlaid with gold and silver. Their cimeters were of the keenest Damascus blades, with sheaths richly wrought and enamelled, and belts of golden filigree studded with gems. Their daggers of Fez had jewelled hilts, and their lances were set off with gay banderoles. Their horses were capari- IRelics an& Genealogies soned in correspondent style, with velvet and embroidery. All this minute description, given by a con- temporary, and an author of distinction, verifies those gallant pictures in the old Morisco Spanish ballads which have sometimes been deemed apocryphal, and give a vivid idea of the brilliant appearance of the chivalry of Gra- nada, when marshalled forth in warlike array, or when celebrating the chivalrous fetes of the Vivarrambla. Ube aeneralife. HIGH above the Alhambra, ou the breast of the mountain, amidst embowered gardens and stately terraces, rise the lofty towers and white walls of the Generalife ; a fairy palace, full of storied recollections. Here are still to be seen the famous cypresses of enormous size which flourished in the time of the Moors, and which tradition has connected with the fabulous story of Boabdil and his sultana. Here are preserved the portraits of many who figured in the romantic drama of the Conquest. Ferdinand and Isabella, Ponce de I^eon, the gallant Marquis of Cadiz, and Gar- cilaso de la Vega, who slew in desperate fight Tarfe the Moor, a champion of Herculean strength. Here too hangs a portrait which has long passed for that of the unfortunate Boabdil, but which is said to be that of Aben Hud, the Moorish king from whom descended The Generalife from the Torre Comares, Alhambra. de <3eneraltfe 265 the princes of Almeria. From one of these princes, who joined the standard of Ferdinand and Isabella towards the close of the Conquest, and wag Christianized by the name of Don Pedro de Granada Venegas, was descended the present proprietor of the palace, the Marquis of Campotejar. The proprietor, however, dwells in a foreign land, and the palace has no longer a princely inhabitant. Yet here is everything to delight a southern voluptuary : fruits, flowers, fragrance, green arbors and myrtle hedges, delicate air and gushing waters. Here I had an opportunity of witnessing those scenes which painters are fond of depicting about southem palaces and gardens. It was the saint's day of the count's daughter, and she had brought up several of her youthful companions from Granada, to sport away a long summer's day among the breezy halls and bowers of the Moorish palaces. A visit to the Generalife was the morning's en- tertainment. Here some of the gay company dispersed itself in groups about the green walks, the bright fountains, the flights of Italian steps, the noble terraces and marble balustrades. Others, among whom I was one, took their seats in an open gallery or colonnade com- manding a vast prospect ; with the Alhambra, the city, and the Vega, far below, and the 266 Blbambra distant horizon of mountains a dreamy world, all glimmering to the eye in summer sunshine. While thus seated, the all-pervading tinkling of the guitar and click of the castanets came stealing up from the valley of the Darro, and half-way down the mountain we descried a festive party under the trees, enjoying them- selves in true Andalusian style ; some lying on the grass, others dancing to the music. All these sights and sounds, together with the princely seclusion of the place, the sweet quiet which prevailed around, and the delicious serenity of the weather, had a witching effect upon the mind, and drew from some of the company, versed in local story, several of the popular fancies and traditions connected with this old Moorish palace ; they were ' ' such stuff as dreams are made of, ' ' but out of them I have shaped the following legend, which I hope may have the good fortune to prove acceptable to the reader. END OF VOI,. I. 6 ^\\E-UN!VER% 1 i ajf g i_H ^OF-CALIFO/?^ I i UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped belov ocr is 1999 A/0 o2 MM APR 26 2000 AC MAY 03 1999 4 WK MAY 14 2004 m 5 s > S i A\\EUNIVERS/A ^vll CS". r^ i> of ^ i i^g o/ lOM ^OJITVD-JO^ ^ 1 I I 3 A&UIBR/ p* r - E! 00 -3 ^AavaaiH^ ^ $ I S 3 1 1 5 f %. s % ^ 1 9 I >