[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

The reader has had a sketch of the interior of
the Alhambra, and may be desirous of a general
idea of its vicinity. The morning is serene and
lovely; the sun has not gained sufficient power to
destroy the freshness of the night; we will mount
to the summit of the Tower of Comares, and take
a bird's eye view of Granada and its environs.

Come then, worthy reader and comrade, follow
my steps into this vestibule, ornamented with rich
tracery, which opens to the Hall of Ambassadors.
We will not enter the hall, however, but turn to
the left, to this small door opening in the wall.
Have a care! here are steep winding steps and
but scanty light; yet up this narrow, obscure, and
winding staircase, the proud monarchs of Granada
and their queens have often ascended to the battlements
of the Tower to watch the approach of
Christian armies; or to gaze on the battles in
the Vega. At length we are on the terraced roof,

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

and may take breath for a moment, while we cast
a general eye over the splendid panorama of city
and country; of rocky mountain, verdant valley,
and fertile plain; of castle, cathedral, Moorish
towers, and Gothic domes, crumbling ruins, and
blooming groves. Let us approach the battlements,
and cast our eyes immediately below. See,
on this side we have the whole plan of the Alhambra
laid open to us, and can look down into its
courts and gardens. 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 fountains, 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 whole 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 are buried among vines,
fig-trees, and aloes.

Let us look on this northern side of the tower.
It is a giddy height; the very foundations of the
tower rise above the groves of the steep hill-side.
And see! a long fissure in the massive walls,

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

shows that the tower has been rent by some of
the earthquakes, which from time to time have
thrown Granada into consternation; and which,
sooner or later, must reduce this crumbling pile to
a mere mass of ruin. The deep, narrow glen below
us, which gradually widens as it opens from
the mountains, is the valley of the Darro; you see
the little river winding its way under imbowered
terraces, and among orchards and flower-gardens.
It is a stream famous in old times for yielding
gold, and its sands are still sifted occasionally, in
search of the precious ore. Some of those white
pavilions, which here and there gleam from among
groves and vineyards, were rustic retreats of
the Moors, to enjoy the refreshment of their
gardens.

The airy palace, with its tall white towers and
long arcades, which 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 behold some shapeless ruins,
is the Silla del Moro, or seat of the Moor, so
called, from having been a retreat of the unfortunate
Boabdil, during the time of an insurrection,

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

where he seated himself, and looked down mournfully
upon his rebellious city.

A murmuring sound of water now and then
rises from the valley. It is from the aqueduct of
yon Moorish mill, nearly at the foot of the hill.
The avenue of trees beyond is the Alameda, along
the bank of the Darro, a favourite resort in evenings,
and a rendezvous of lovers in the summer
nights, when the guitar may be heard at a late
hour from the benches along its walks. At present
there are but a few loitering monks to be
seen there, and a group of water-carriers from the
fountain of Avellanos.

You start! 'tis nothing but a hawk 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 have gone to
rest, the moping owl comes out of its lurkingplace,
and utters its boding cry from the battlements.
See how the hawk we have dislodged
sweeps away below us, skimming over the tops
of the trees, and sailing up to the ruins above the
Generalife!

Let us leave this side of the tower, and turn our
eyes to the west. Here you behold in the

[figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

distance, a range of mountains bounding the Vega,
the ancient barrier between Moslem Granada and
the land of the Christians. Among their heights
you may still discern warrior towns, whose grey
walls and battlements seem of a piece with the
rocks on which they are built; while here and
there is a solitary Atalaya, or watch tower,
mounted on some lofty point, and looking down,
as it were, from the sky, into the valleys on either
side. It was down the defiles of these mountains,
by the pass of Lope, that the Christian armies
descended into the Vega. It was round the base
of yon grey and naked mountain, almost insulated
from the rest, and stretching its bold rocky promontory
into the bosom of the plain, that the
invading squadrons would come bursting into
view, with flaunting banners, and the clangour of
drums and trumpets. How changed is the scene!
Instead of the glittering line of male warriors, we
behold the patient train of the toilful muleteer,
slowly moving along the skirts of the mountain.
Behind that promontory, is the eventful bridge
of Pinos, renowned for many a bloody strife
between Moors and Christians; but still more
renowned as being the place where Columbus was
overtaken and called back by the messenger of
Queen Isabella, just as he was departing in

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

despair, to carry his project of discovery to the court
of France.

Behold another place famous in the history of
the discoverer. Yon line of walls and towers,
gleaming in the morning sun, in the very centre
of the Vega, 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 that Columbus was called
back by the heroic queen; and within them the
treaty was concluded, that led to the discovery of
the western world.

Here, towards the south, the eye revels on the
luxuriant beauties of the Vega; a blooming wilderness
of grove and garden, and teeming orchard,
with the Xenil winding through it in silver links,
and feeding innumerable rills, conducted through
ancient Moorish channels, which maintain the
landscape in perpetual verdure. Here are the
beloved bowers and gardens and rural retreats, for
which the Moors fought with such desperate
valour. The very farmhouses and hovels which
are now inhabited by boors, retain traces of arabesques
and other tasteful decorations, which show
them to have been elegant residences in the days
of the Moslems.

Beyond the imbowered region of the Vega, you

[figure description] Page 057.[end figure description]

behold to the south a line of arid hills, down which
a long train of mules is slowly moving. It was
from the summit of one of those hills that the
unfortunate Boabdil cast back his last look upon
Granada, and gave vent to the agony of his soul.
It is the spot famous in song and story, “The last
sigh of the Moor.”

Now raise your eyes to the snowy summit of
yon pile of mountains, shining like a white summer
cloud in the blue sky. It is the Sierra Nevada,
the pride and delight of Granada; the source of
her cooling breezes and perpetual verdure, of her
gushing fountains and perennial streams. It is this
glorious pile of mountains that 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 ardour 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 increase 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 sequestered valleys.

Those mountains may well be called the glory
of Granada. They dominate the whole extent of
Andalusia, and may be seen from its most distant

[figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

parts. The muleteer hails them, as he 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.

But enough—the sun is high above the mountains,
and is pouring his full fervour upon our
heads. Already the terraced roof of the tower is
hot beneath our feet: let us abandon it, and descend
and refresh ourselves under the arcades by
the fountain of the Lions.

p226-062

Previous section

Next section