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Our afternoon's ride took us through a steep and rugged defile of
the mountains； called Puerto del Rey； the Pass of the King； being
one of the great passes into the territories of Granada； and the one
by which King Ferdinand 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 strong…hold of
that fiery veteran； old Ali Atar； father…in…law of Boabdil； and here
it was that the latter 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； Loxa 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 vegetation and the freshest verdure。
A similar contrast 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 oration。 At
the 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 retired 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； 〃el pobre Sancho no es nada sin Don
Quixote。〃 （〃Ah； senores； poor Sancho is nothing without Don Quixote。〃）
He had been alarmed at our not coming to the inn； Loxa was such a wild
mountain place； full of contrabandistas； enchanters； and infiernos； he
did not well know what might have happened； and set out to seek us；
inquiring 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 was a young and handsome Andalusian
widow； whose trim basquina 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； profusely 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 handkerchief 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 stockings 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 conversation 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
something of a contrabandista aspect； and a blunderbuss 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 companion； 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 personae 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 Loxa； 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 language 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 her doll； calls it his Santa Teresa； and says；
〃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 together with the unreserve of a Spanish
posada。 We had contrabandista songs； stories of robbers； guerilla
exploits； and Moorish legends。 The last were from our handsome
landlady； who gave a poetical account of the infiernos； or infernal
regions of Loxa； dark caverns； in which subterranean streams and
waterfalls make a mysterious sound。 The common people 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 La 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 reconnoiter。 It was nothing more nor less than a charivari to
celebrate the nuptials of an old man with a buxom 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 reconnoitering 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 mountaineers 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