there reigns at present a vigilant governor in the Alhambra, a stanch old
soldier, well known as Governor Manco. While such a warrior holds command
of the very outpost, and stands ready to check the first irruption from
the mountain, I fear Boabdil and his soldiery must be content to rest upon
their arms.'"
Here the governor raised himself somewhat perpendicularly, adjusted his
sword, and twirled up his moustaches.
"To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your Excellency, the
trooper, having given me this account, dismounted from his steed.
"'Tarry here,' said he, 'and guard my steed while I go and bow the knee to
Boabdil.' So saying, he strode away among the throng that pressed forward
to the throne.
"'What's to be done?' thought I, when thus left to myself, 'shall I wait
here until this infidel returns to whisk me off on his goblin steed, the
Lord knows where; or shall I make the most of my time and beat a retreat
from this hobgoblin community?' A soldier's mind is soon made up, as your
Excellency well knows. As to the horse, he belonged to an avowed enemy
of the faith and the realm, and was a fair prize according to the rules
of war. So hoisting myself from the crupper into the saddle, I turned
the reins, struck the Moorish stirrups into the sides of the steed, and
put him to make the best of his way out of the passage by which he had
entered. As we scoured by the halls where the Moslem horsemen sat in
motionless battalions, I thought I heard the clang of armour and a hollow
murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste of the stirrups and
doubled my speed. There was now a sound behind me like a rushing blast;
I heard the clatter of a thousand hoofs; a countless throng overtook me.
I was borne along in the press, and hurled forth from the mouth of the
cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms were swept off in every direction
by the four winds of heaven.
"In the whirl and confusion of the scene I was thrown senseless to the
earth. When I came to myself, I was lying on the brow of a hill, with
the Arabian steed standing beside me; for in falling, my arm had slipped
within the bridle, which, I presume, prevented his whisking off to Old
Castile.
"Your Excellency may easily judge of my surprise, on looking round, to
behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs and other proofs of a southern
climate, and to see a great city below me, with towers, and palaces, and
a grand cathedral.
"I descended the hill cautiously, leading my steed, for I was afraid
to mount him again, lest he should play me some slippery trick. As I
descended I met with your patrol, who let me into the secret that it was
Granada that lay before me, and that I was actually under the walls of the
Alhambra, the fortress of the redoubted Governor Manco, the terror of all
enchanted Moslems. When I heard this, I determined at once to seek your
Excellency, to inform you of all that I had seen, and to warn you of the
perils that surround and undermine you, that you may take measures in time
to guard your fortress, and the kingdom itself, from this intestine army
that lurks in the very bowels of the land."
"And prithee, friend, you who are a veteran campaigner, and have seen so
much service," said the governor, "how would you advise me to proceed, in
order to prevent this evil?"
"It is not for a humble private of the ranks," said the soldier, modestly,
"to pretend to instruct a commander of your Excellency's sagacity, but it
appears to me that your Excellency might cause all the caves and entrances
into the mountains to be walled up with solid mason-work, so that
Boabdil and his army might be completely corked up in their subterranean
habitation. If the good father, too," added the soldier, reverently
bowing to the friar, and devoutly crossing himself, "would consecrate the
_barricados_ with his blessing, and put up a few crosses and relics and
images of saints, I think they might withstand all the power of infidel
enchantments."
"They doubtless would be of great avail," said the friar.
The governor now placed his arm akimbo, with his hand resting on the hilt
of his toledo, fixed his eye upon the soldier, and gently wagging his head
from one side to the other,--
"So, friend," said he, "then you really suppose I am to be gulled with
this cock-and-bull story about enchanted mountains and enchanted Moors?
Hark ye, culprit!--not another word. An old soldier you may be, but
you'll find you have an older soldier to deal with, and one not easily
outgeneralled. Ho! guards there! put this fellow in irons."
The demure handmaid would have put in a word in favour of the prisoner,
but the governor silenced her with a look.
As they were pinioning the soldier, one of the guards felt something of
bulk in his pocket, and drawing it forth, found a long leathern purse that
appeared to be well filled. Holding it by one corner, he turned out the
contents upon the table before the governor, and never did freebooter's
bag make more gorgeous delivery. Out tumbled rings, and jewels, and
rosaries of pearls, and sparkling diamond crosses, and a profusion of
ancient golden coin, some of which fell jingling to the floor, and rolled
away to the uttermost parts of the chamber.
For a time the functions of justice were suspended; there was a universal
scramble after the glittering fugitives. The governor alone, who was
imbued with true Spanish pride, maintained his stately decorum, though his
eye betrayed a little anxiety until the last coin and jewel was restored
to the sack.
The friar was not so calm; his whole face glowed like a furnace, and his
eyes twinkled and flashed at sight of the rosaries and crosses.
"Sacrilegious wretch that thou art!" exclaimed he; "what church or
sanctuary hast thou been plundering of these sacred relics?"
"Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they be sacrilegious spoils,
they must have been taken, in times long past, by the infidel trooper
I have mentioned. I was just going to tell his Excellency when he
interrupted me, that, on taking possession of the trooper's horse, I
unhooked a leathern sack which hung at the saddle-bow, and which I presume
contained the plunder of his campaignings in days of old, when the Moors
overran the country."
"Mighty well; at present you will make up your mind to take up your
quarters in a chamber of the Vermilion Tower, which, though not under a
magic spell, will hold you as safe as any cave of your enchanted Moors."
"Your Excellency will do as you think proper," said the prisoner, coolly.
"I shall be thankful to your Excellency for any accommodation in the
fortress. A soldier who has been in the wars, as your Excellency well
knows, is not particular about his lodgings. Provided I have a snug
dungeon and regular rations, I shall manage to make myself comfortable.
I would only entreat that while your Excellency is so careful about me,
you would have an eye to your fortress, and think on the hint I dropped
about stopping up the entrances to the mountain."
Here ended the scene. The prisoner was conducted to a strong dungeon in
the Vermilion Tower, the Arabian steed was led to his Excellency's stable,
and the trooper's sack was deposited in his Excellency's strong box. To
the latter, it is true--the friar made some demur, questioning whether
the sacred relics, which were evidently sacrilegious spoils, should not
be placed in custody of the church; but as the governor was peremptory on
the subject, and was absolute lord in the Alhambra, the friar discreetly
dropped the discussion, but determined to convey intelligence of the fact
to the church dignitaries in Granada.
To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part of old Governor
Manco, it is proper to observe, that about this time the Alpuxarra
mountains in the neighbourhood of Granada were terribly infested by a gang
of robbers, under the command of a daring chief named Manuel Borasco,
who were accustomed to prowl about the country, and even to enter the
city in various disguises, to gain intelligence of the departure of
convoys of merchandise, or travellers with well-lined purses, whom they
took care to waylay in distant and solitary passes of the road. These
repeated and daring outrages had awakened the attention of government,
and the commanders of the various posts had received instructions to be
on the alert, and to take up all suspicious stragglers. Governor Manco
was particularly zealous in consequence of the various stigmas that had
been cast upon his fortress, and he now doubted not he had entrapped some
formidable desperado of this gang.
In the meantime the story took wind, and became the talk not merely of
the fortress, but of the whole city of Granada. It was said that the
noted robber Manuel Borasco, the terror of the Alpuxarras, had fallen
into the clutches of old Governor Manco, and been cooped up by him in a
dungeon of the Vermilion Tower; and every one who had been robbed by him
flocked to recognize the marauder. The Vermilion Tower, as is well known,
stands apart from the Alhambra on a sister hill, separated from the main
fortress by the ravine down which passes the main avenue. There were no
outer walls, but a sentinel patrolled before the tower. The window of
the chamber in which the soldier was confined was strongly grated, and
looked upon a small esplanade. Here the good folks of Granada repaired to
gaze at him, as they would at a laughing hyena, grinning through the cage
of a menagerie. Nobody, however, recognized him for Manuel Borasco, for
that terrible robber was noted for a ferocious physiognomy, and had by no
means the good-humoured squint of the prisoner. Visitors came not merely
from the city, but from all parts of the country; but nobody knew him,
and there began to be doubts in the minds of the common people whether
there might not be some truth in his story. That Boabdil and his army were
shut up in the mountain, was an old tradition which many of the ancient
inhabitants had heard from their fathers. Numbers went up to the Mountain
of the Sun, or rather of St. Elena, in search of the cave mentioned by
the soldier; and saw and peeped into the deep dark pit, descending, no one
knows how far, into the mountain, and which remains there to this day--the
fabled entrance to the subterranean abode of Boabdil.
By degrees the soldier became popular with the common people. A freebooter
of the mountains is by no means the opprobrious character in Spain that a
robber is in any other country, on the contrary he is a kind of chivalrous
personage in the eyes of the lower classes. There is always a disposition,
also, to cavil at the conduct of those in command; and many began to
murmur at the high-handed measures of old Governor Manco, and to look upon
the prisoner in the light of a martyr.
The soldier, moreover, was a merry, waggish fellow, that had a joke for
every one who came near his window, and a soft speech for every female.
He had procured an old guitar also, and would sit by his window and sing
ballads and love-ditties to the delight of the women of the neighbourhood,
who would assemble on the esplanade in the evening and dance boleros to
his music. Having trimmed off his rough beard, his sunburnt face found
favour in the eyes of the fair, and the demure handmaid of the governor
declared that his squint was perfectly irresistible. This kind-hearted
damsel had from the first evinced a deep sympathy in his fortunes, and
having in vain tried to mollify the governor, had set to work privately
to mitigate the rigour of his dispensations. Every day she brought the
prisoner some crumbs of comfort which had fallen from the governor's
table, or been abstracted from his larder, together with, now and then,
a consoling bottle of choice _Val de Peñas_, or rich Malaga.
While this petty treason was going on in the very centre of the old
governor's citadel, a storm of open war was brewing up among his
external foes. The circumstance of a bag of gold and jewels having been
found upon the person of the supposed robber, had been reported, with
many exaggerations, in Granada. A question of territorial jurisdiction
was immediately started by the governor's inveterate rival, the
captain-general. He insisted that the prisoner had been captured without
the precincts of the Alhambra, and within the rules of his authority.
He demanded his body therefore, and the _spolia opima_ taken with him.
Due information having been carried likewise by the friar to the grand
inquisitor of the crosses and rosaries, and other relics contained in
the bag, he claimed the culprit as having been guilty of sacrilege, and
insisted that his plunder was due to the church, and his body to the
next _auto-da-fe_. The feuds ran high; the governor was furious, and
swore, rather than surrender his captive, he would hang him up within the
Alhambra, as a spy caught within the purlieus of the fortress.
The captain-general threatened to send a body of soldiers to transfer
the prisoner from the Vermilion Tower to the city. The grand inquisitor
was equally bent upon despatching a number of the familiars of the
Holy Office. Word was brought late at night to the governor of these
machinations. "Let them come," said he, "they'll find me beforehand with
them; he must rise bright and early who would take in an old soldier." He
accordingly issued orders to have the prisoner removed, at daybreak, to
the donjon-keep within the walls of the Alhambra. "And d'ye hear, child,"
said he to his demure handmaid, "tap at my door, and wake me before
cock-crowing, that I may see to the matter myself."
The day dawned, the cock crowed, but nobody tapped at the door of the
governor. The sun rose high above the mountain-tops, and glittered in at
his casement, ere the governor was awakened from his morning dreams by his
veteran corporal, who stood before him with terror stamped upon his iron
visage.
"He's off! he's gone!" cried the corporal, gasping for breath.
"Who's off--who's gone?"
"The soldier--the robber--the devil, for aught I know; his dungeon is
empty, but the door locked: no one knows how he has escaped out of it."
"Who saw him last?"
"Your handmaid; she brought him his supper."
"Let her be called instantly."
Here was new matter of confusion. The chamber of the demure damsel was
likewise empty, her bed had not been slept in: she had doubtless gone
off with the culprit, as she had appeared, for some days past, to have
frequent conversations with him.
This was wounding the old governor in a tender part, but he had scarce
time to wince at it, when new misfortune broke upon his view. On going
into his cabinet he found his strong box open, the leather purse of the
trooper abstracted and with it a couple of corpulent bags of doubloons.
But how, and which way had the fugitives escaped? An old peasant who lived
in a cottage by the road-side leading up into the Sierra, declared that
he had heard the tramp of a powerful steed just before daybreak, passing
up into the mountains. He had looked out at his casement, and could just
distinguish a horseman, with a female seated before him.
"Search the stables!" cried Governor Manco. The stables were searched;
all the horses were in their stalls, excepting the Arabian steed. In his
place was a stout cudgel, tied to the manger, and on it a label bearing
these words, "A Gift to Governor Manco, from an Old Soldier."
[Illustration: _The Mosque._]
[Illustration]
A FÊTE IN THE ALHAMBRA
The Saint's day of my neighbour and rival potentate, the count, took place
during his sojourn in the Alhambra, on which occasion he gave a domestic
_fête_; assembling round him the members of his family and household,
while the stewards and old servants from his distant possessions came
to pay him reverence and partake of the good cheer which was sure to
be provided. It presented a type, though doubtless a faint one, of the
establishment of a Spanish noble in the olden time.
The Spaniards were always grandiose in their notions of style. Huge
palaces; lumbering equipages, laden with footmen and lackeys; pompous
retinues, and useless dependents of all kinds; the dignity of a noble
seemed commensurate with the legions who loitered about his halls, fed
at his expense, and seemed ready to devour him alive. This, doubtless,
originated in the necessity of keeping up hosts of armed retainers during
the wars with the Moors; wars of inroads and surprises; when a noble was
liable to be suddenly assailed in his castle by a foray of the enemy, or
summoned to the field by his sovereign.
The custom remained after the wars were at an end; and what originated
in necessity was kept up through ostentation. The wealth which flowed
into the country from conquests and discoveries fostered the passion for
princely establishments. According to magnificent old Spanish usage, in
which pride and generosity bore equal parts, a superannuated servant was
never turned off, but became a charge for the rest of his days; nay, his
children, and his children's children, and often their relatives to the
right and left, became gradually entailed upon the family. Hence the
huge palaces of the Spanish nobility, which have such an air of empty
ostentation from the greatness of their size compared with the mediocrity
and scantiness of their furniture, were absolutely required, in the golden
days of Spain, by the patriarchal habits of their possessors. They were
little better than vast barracks for their hereditary generations of
hangers-on that battened at the expense of a Spanish noble.
These patriarchal habits of the Spanish nobility have declined with their
revenues; though the spirit which prompted them remains, and wars sadly
with their altered fortunes. The poorest among them have always some
hereditary hangers-on, who live at their expense, and make them poorer.
Some who, like my neighbour the count, retain a modicum of their once
princely possessions, keep up a shadow of the ancient system, and their
estates are overrun and the produce consumed by generations of idle
retainers.
The count held estates in various parts of the kingdom, some including
whole villages; yet the revenues collected from them were comparatively
small; some of them, he assured me barely fed the hordes of dependents
nestled upon them, who seemed to consider themselves entitled to live
rent-free and be maintained into the bargain, because their forefathers
had been so since time immemorial.
The saint's day of the old count gave me a glimpse into a Spanish
interior. For two or three days previous preparations were made for
the _fête_. Viands of all kinds were brought up from town, greeting
the olfactory nerves of the old invalid guards, as they were borne past
them through the Gate of Justice. Servants hurried officiously about the
courts; the ancient kitchen of the palace was again alive with the tread
of cooks and scullions, and blazed with unwonted fires.
When the day arrived I beheld the old count in patriarchal state, his
family and household around him, with functionaries who mismanaged his
estates at a distance and consumed the proceeds; while numerous old
worn-out servants and pensioners were loitering about the courts and
keeping within smell of the kitchen.
It was a joyous day in the Alhambra. The guests dispersed themselves about
the palace before the hour of dinner, enjoying the luxuries of its courts
and fountains, and embosomed gardens, and music and laughter resounded
through its late silent halls.
The feast, for a set dinner in Spain is literally a feast, was served in
the beautiful _Morisco_ Hall of "_Las dos Hermanas_." The table was loaded
with all the luxuries of the season: there was an almost interminable
succession of dishes; showing how truly the feast at the rich Camachos'
wedding in "Don Quixote" was a picture of a Spanish banquet. A joyous
conviviality prevailed round the board; for though Spaniards are generally
abstemious, they are complete revellers on occasions like the present,
and none more so than the Andalusians. For my part, there was something
peculiarly exciting in thus sitting at a feast in the royal halls of the
Alhambra, given by one who might claim remote affinity with its Moorish
kings, and who was a lineal representative of Gonsalvo of Cordova, one of
the most distinguished of the Christian conquerors.
The banquet ended, the company adjourned to the Hall of Ambassadors. Here
every one endeavoured to contribute to the general amusement, singing,
improvising, telling wonderful tales, or dancing popular dances to that
all-pervading talisman of Spanish pleasure, the guitar.
The count's gifted little daughter was as usual the life and delight
of the assemblage, and I was more than ever struck with her aptness and
wonderful versatility. She took a part in two or three scenes of elegant
comedy with some of her companions, and performed them with exquisite
point and finished grace; she gave imitations of the popular Italian
singers, some serious, some comic, with a rare quality of voice, and, I
was assured, with singular fidelity; she imitated the dialects, dances,
ballads, and movements and manners of the gypsies and the peasants of the
Vega with equal felicity; but everything was done with an all-pervading
grace and a ladylike tact perfectly fascinating.
The great charm of everything she did was its freedom from pretension
or ambitious display, its happy spontaneity. Everything sprang from the
impulse of the moment; or was in prompt compliance with a request. She
seemed unconscious of the rarity and extent of her own talent, and was
like a child at home revelling in the buoyancy of its own gay and innocent
spirits. Indeed I was told she had never exerted her talents in general
society, but only, as at present, in the domestic circle.
Her faculty of observation and her perception of character must have been
remarkably quick, for she could have had only casual and transient glances
at the scenes, manners, and customs depicted with such truth and spirit.
"Indeed it is a caluntnio wonder to us," said the countess, "where the
child [_la Niña_] has picked up these things, her life being passed almost
entirely at home, in the bosom of the family."
Evening approached; twilight began to throw its shadows about the halls,
and the bats to steal forth from their lurking-place and flit about. A
notion seized the little damsel and some of her youthful companions, to
set out, under the guidance of Dolores, and explore the less frequented
parts of the palace in quest of mysteries and enchantments. Thus
conducted, they peeped fearfully into the gloomy old mosque, but quickly
drew back on being told that a Moorish king had been murdered there; they
ventured into the mysterious regions of the bath, frightening themselves
with the sounds and murmurs of hidden aqueducts, and flying with mock
panic at the alarm of phantom Moors. They then undertook the adventure of
the Iron Gate, a place of baleful note in the Alhambra. It is a postern
gate, opening into a dark ravine; a narrow covered way leads down to it,
which used to be the terror of Dolores and her playmates in childhood, as
it was said a hand without a body would sometimes be stretched out from
the wall and seize hold of the passers-by.
The little party of enchantment-hunters ventured to the entrance of
the covered way, but nothing would tempt them to enter, in this hour of
gathering gloom; they dreaded the grasp of the phantom arm.
At length they came running back into the Hall of Ambassadors in a mock
paroxysm of terror: they had positively seen two spectral figures all in
white. They had not stopped to examine them; but could not be mistaken,
for they glared distinctly through the surrounding gloom. Dolores soon
arrived and explained the mystery. The spectres proved to be two statues
of nymphs in white marble, placed at the entrance of a vaulted passage.
Upon this a grave, but, as I thought, somewhat sly old gentleman present,
who, I believe, was the count's advocate or legal adviser, assured them
that these statues were connected with one of the greatest mysteries
of the Alhambra; that there was a curious history concerning them, and,
moreover, that they stood a living monument in marble of female secrecy
and discretion. All present entreated him to tell the history of the
statues. He took a little time to recollect the details, and then gave
them in substance the following legend.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES