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Important NegotiationsImportant Negotiations: The Author Succeeds To The Throne Of Boabdil
Important Negotiations: The Author Succeeds To The Throne Of Boabdil
The day was nearly spent before we could tear ourselves 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 Governor 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 senores," added he, smiling, "if
you think a residence there so desirable, my apartments in the Alhambra are
at your service."
It is a common and almost indispensable point of politeness in a
Spaniard, to tell you his house is yours. - "Esta 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
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 abdicate, leaving me sole monarch of this
shadowy realm. For myself, being in a manner a haphazard 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
enchanted 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
thraldom. 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.
At 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 esplanade called
la plaza de los algibes (the place of the cisterns); the apartment is modern,
but the end opposite to my sleeping-room communicates with a cluster of little
chambers, partly Moorish, partly Spanish, allotted to the chatelaine Dona
Antonia and her family. In consideration of keeping the palace in order, the
good dame is allowed all the perquisites received from visitors, and all the
produce of the gardens; excepting that she is expected to pay an occasional
tribute of fruits and flowers to the 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 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 physician 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
inherit 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 hundred and
fifty dollars; so that she is quite an heiress in the eyes of the ragged son
of the Alhambra. 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 diploma, 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 excellent; 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, 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
wardrobe, 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 appears about the
fortress with a smart Andalusian hat and jacket, to his infinite
satisfaction, and the great astonishment of his comrades. The chief fault of
honest Mateo is an over-anxiety to be useful. Conscious of having foisted
himself into my employ, and that my simple and quiet habits render his
situation a sinecure, he is at his wit`s ends 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 every thing I
see; and if I venture to ramble among the surrounding hills, he insists upon
attending me as a guard, though I vehemently suspect he would be more apt to
trust to the length 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 marvellous 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 traditionary lore died not with
him. The authentic Mateo, when an urchin, used to be an attentive listener to
the narratives of his grandfather, and of the gossip 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 stuttering lad from the gardens,
brings me a tribute of fresh culled flowers, which are afterwards arranged in
vases, by the skilful hand of Dolores, who takes a female pride in the
decorations of my chamber. My meals are made wherever caprice dictates;
sometimes in one of the Moorish halls, sometimes under the arcades of the
Court of Lions, surrounded by flowers and fountains: and when I walk out, I am
conducted by the assiduous Mateo, to the most romantic retreats of the
mountains, and delicious haunts of the adjacent valleys, not one of which but
is the scene of some wonderful tale.
Though fond of passing the greater part of my day alone, yet I
occasionally repair in the evenings to the little domestic circle of Dona
Antonia. This is generally held in an old Moorish chamber, 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 conversation of the
family. There is a natural talent or mother wit, as it is called, about the
Spaniards, which renders them intellectual and agreeable companions, whatever
may be their condition in life, or however imperfect may have been their
education: add to this, they are never vulgar; nature has endowed them with
an inherent dignity of spirit. The good Tia Antonia is a woman of strong and
intelligent, though uncultivated mind; and the bright-eyed Dolores, though
she has read but three or four books in the whole course of her life, has an
engaging mixture of naivete and good sense, and often surprises me by the
pungency of her artless sallies. Sometimes the nephew entertains us by
reading some old comedy of Calderon 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. Sometimes Tia Antonia has a little levee of
humble friends and dependents, 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 straggled 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
neighborhood.
These are simple details of simple pleasures; it is the nature of the
place alone that gives them interest and importance. I tread haunted ground,
and am surrounded by romantic associations. From earliest boyhood, when, on
the banks of the Hudson, I first pored over the pages of old Gines Perez de
Hytas` apocryphal but chivalresque history of the civil wars of Granada, and
the feuds of its gallant cavaliers, 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
influence of the balmy climate, I am almost tempted to fancy myself in the
paradise of Mahomet, and that the plump little Dolores is one of the
bright-eyed houris, destined to administer to the happiness of true
believers.
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