close by letters which reached me, while indulging in Oriental luxury in
the cool hall of the baths, summoning me away from my Moslem elysium, to
mingle once more in the bustle and business of the dusty world. How was
I to encounter its toils and turmoils, after such a life of repose and
reverie! How was I to endure its commonplace, after the poetry of the
Alhambra!
But little preparation was necessary for my departure. A two-wheeled
vehicle, called a tartana, very much resembling a covered cart, was to
be the travelling equipage of a young Englishman and myself through
Murcia, to Alicant and Valencia, on our way to France; and a long-limbed
varlet, who had been a contrabandista, and, for aught I knew, a robber,
was to be our guide and guard. The preparations were soon made, but the
departure was the difficulty. Day after day was it postponed; day after
day was spent in lingering about my favorite haunts, and day after day
they appeared more delightful in my eyes.
The social and domestic little world also, in which I had been moving,
had become singularly endeared to me; and the concern evinced by them at
my intended departure, convinced me that my kind feelings were
reciprocated. Indeed, when at length the day arrived, I did not dare
venture upon a leave-taking at the good Dame Antonia’s; I saw the soft
heart of little Dolores, at least, was brim full and ready for an
overflow. So I bade a silent adieu to the palace and its inmates, and
descended into the city as if intending to return. There, however, the
tartana and the guide were ready; so, after taking a noonday’s repast
with my fellow-traveller at the Posada, I set out with him on our
journey.
Humble was the cortege and melancholy the departure of El Rey Chico the
second! Manuel, the nephew of Tia Antonia, Mateo, my officious but now
disconsolate squire, and two or three old invalids of the Alhambra with
whom I had grown into gossiping companionship, had come down to see me
off; for it is one of the good old customs of Spain, to sally forth
several miles to meet a coming friend, and to accompany him as far on
his departure. Thus then we set out, our long-legged guard striding
ahead, with his escopeta on his shoulder; Manuel and Mateo on each side
of the tartana, and the old invalids behind.
At some little distance to the north of Granada, the road gradually
ascends the hills; here I alighted and walked up slowly with Manuel, who
took this occasion to confide to me the secret of his heart and of all
those tender concerns between himself and Dolores, with which I had been
already informed by the all-knowing and all-revealing Mateo Ximenes. His
doctor’s diploma had prepared the way for their union, and nothing more
was wanting but the dispensation of the Pope, on account of their
consanguinity. Then, if he could get the post of Medico of the fortress,
his happiness would be complete! I congratulated him on the judgment and
good taste he had shown in his choice of a helpmate; invoked all
possible felicity on their union, and trusted that the abundant
affections of the kind-hearted little Dolores would in time have more
stable objects to occupy them than recreant cats and truant pigeons.
It was indeed a sorrowful parting when I took leave of these good people
and saw them slowly descend the hills; now and then turning round to
wave me a last adieu. Manuel, it is true, had cheerful prospects to
console him, but poor Mateo seemed perfectly cast down. It was to him a
grievous fall from the station of prime minister and historiographer, to
his old brown cloak and his starveling mystery of ribbon-weaving; and
the poor devil, notwithstanding his occasional officiousness, had,
somehow or other, acquired a stronger hold on my sympathies than I was
aware of. It would have really been a consolation in parting, could I
have anticipated the good fortune in store for him, and to which I had
contributed; for the importance I had appeared to give to his tales and
gossip and local knowledge, and the frequent companionship in which I
had indulged him in the course of my strolls, had elevated his idea of
his own qualifications and opened a new career to him; and the son of
the Alhambra has since become its regular and well-paid cicerone;
insomuch that I am told he has never been obliged to resume the ragged
old brown cloak in which I first found him.
Towards sunset I came to where the road wound into the mountains, and
here I paused to take a last look at Granada. The hill on which I stood
commanded a glorious view of the city, the Vega, and the surrounding
mountains. It was at an opposite point of the compass from _La cuesta de
las lagrimas_ (the hill of tears) noted for the “last sigh of the Moor.”
I now could realize something of the feelings of poor Boabdil when he
bade adieu to the paradise he was leaving behind, and beheld before him
a rugged and sterile road conducting him to exile.
The setting sun as usual shed a melancholy effulgence on the ruddy
towers of the Alhambra. I could faintly discern the balconied window of
the Tower of Comares, where I had indulged in so many delightful
reveries. The bosky groves and gardens about the city were richly
gilded with the sunshine, the purple haze of a summer evening was
gathering over the Vega; everything was lovely, but tenderly and sadly
so, to my parting gaze.
“I will hasten from this prospect,” thought I, “before the sun is set. I
will carry away a recollection of it clothed in all its beauty.”
With these thoughts I pursued my way among the mountains. A little
further and Granada, the Vega, and the Alhambra were shut from my view;
and thus ended one of the pleasantest dreams of a life, which the reader
perhaps may think has been but too much made up of dreams.
THE END
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES:
[1] NOTE TO THE REVISED EDITION.--The Author feels at liberty
to mention that his travelling companion was the Prince Dolgorouki, at
present Russian minister at the Court of Persia.
[2] It may be as well to note here, that the alforjas are square
pockets at each end of a long cloth about a foot and a half wide,
formed by turning up its extremities. The cloth is then thrown over
the saddle, and the pockets hang on each side like saddle-bags.
It is an Arab invention. The bota is a leathern bag or bottle, of
portly dimensions, with a narrow neck. It is also Oriental. Hence the
scriptural caution, which perplexed me in my boyhood, not to put new
wine into old bottles.
[3] See Urquhart’s _Pillars of Hercules_, B. III. C. 8.
[4] Urquhart’s _Pillars of Hercules_.
[5] Et porque era muy rubio llamaban lo los Moros Abenalhamar, que
quiere decir bermejo ... et porque los Moros le llamaban Benalhamar
que quiere decir bermejo tomo los señales bermejos, segun que los
ovieron despues los Reyes de Granada.--BLEDA, _Cronica de
Alfonso XI._, P. I. C. 44.
[6] “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 fuesse osado de fazer ningun movimiento contra
los Christianos, ni mover pelear contra ellos, estovieron todos quedos
y dezian entre ellos qui aquel diamuriera un noble rey y Gran principe
del mundo.”
[7] Una de las cosas en que tienen precisa intervencion los Reyes
Moros as en el matrimonio de sus grandes: de aqui nace que todos los
señores llegadas à la persona real si casan en palacio, y siempre huvo
su quarto destinado para esta ceremonia.
One of the things in which the Moorish kings interfered was in the
marriage of their nobles: hence it came that all the señors 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.
[8] Alcántara, _Hist. Granad._, O. 3, p. 226, note.
[9] Salazar y Castro, _Hist. Genealog. de la Casa de Lara_, lib. v. c.
12, cited by Alcántara in his _Hist. Granad._
[10] Al Makkari, B. VIII. c. 7.
[11] Alcántara, _Hist. Granad._, c. 17. See also Al Makkari, _Hist.
Mohama. Dynasties_, B. VIII. c. 7, with the Commentaries of Don
Pascual de Guyangos.
[12] For authorities for these latter facts, see the Appendix to the
author’s revised edition of the _Conquest of Granada_.
[13] Ay una puerta en la Alhambra por la qual salio Chico Rey de los
Moros, quando si rindio prisionero al Rey de España D. Fernando, y
le entregó la ciudad con el castillo. Pidio esta principe como por
merced, y en memoria de tan importante conquista, al que quedasse
siempre cerrada esta puerta. Consintio en allo el Rey Fernando, y des
de aquel tiempo no solamente no se abrio la puerta sino tambien se
construyo junto à ella fuerte bastion.--MORERI’S _Historical
Dictionary_, Spanish Edition, Vol. I. p. 372.
[14] 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.
[15] See a more detailed account of the exploit in the chronicle of
the _Conquest of Granada_.
[16] Marmol, _Hist. Rebellion of the Moors._
[17] Lest this should be deemed a mere stretch of fancy, the reader
is referred to the following genealogy, derived by the historian
Alcántara, 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 Cetimerian
Princes. 1st. _Jusef ben Alhamar_, who for a time usurped the throne
of Granada. 2d. The Prince _Nasar_, who married the celebrated
Lindaraxa. 3d. The _Princess Cetimerien_, who married Don Pedro
Venegas captured by the Moors in his boyhood, a younger son of the
_House of Luque_, of which house the old court was the present head.
[18] The reader will recognize the sovereign connected with the
fortunes of the Abencerrages. His story appears to be a little
fictionized in the legend.
[19] Torres. Hist. Ord. Alcántara. “Cron. Enrique III.” por Pedro
Lopez de Ayala.
[20] Miguel Lafuente Alcántara.
[21] The authorities for the foregoing: Alcántara, Hist. Granada;
Al Makkari, Hist. Mohamed; Dynasties in Spain, B. ii. c. 3; Notes
and illustrations of the same, by Gayangos, Vol. I. p. 440; Ibnu Al
Kahttib, Biograph. Dic., cited by Gayangos; Conde, Hist. Dom. Arab.
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
Perdon usted por Dios hermano=> Perdón usted por Dios hermano {pg 22}
Garcilasso de la Vega=> Garcilaso de la Vega {pg 170}
de los siéte suelos=> de los siete suelos {pg 205}
What wil become of us=> What will become of us {pg 219}
that the stongest bolts=> that the strongest bolts {pg 225}
basquina all trimmed with gold=> basquiña all trimmed with gold {pg
230}
one of the evening tertullias=> one of the evening tertulias {pg 262}
would ocasionally strut backwards=> would occasionally strut backwards
{pg 282}
the Guadarama mountains=> the Guadarama mountains {pg 294}
there began to to be doubts=> there began to be doubts {pg 303}
[8] Alcantara=> [8] Alcántara
[9] Alcantara=> [9] Alcántara
[11] Alcantara=> [11] Alcántara
[17] derived by the historian Alcantara=> [17] derived by the
historian Alcantára
[20] Miguel Lafuente Alcantara.=> [20] Miguel Lafuente Alcántara.