Tales of the Alhambra | Page 6

time the
magnificent distribution of a few cigars had won the hearts of all
around us; in a little while the whole community seemed put in
agitation to make us welcome. The corregidor himself waited upon us,
and a great rush-bottomed arm-chair was ostentatiously bolstered into
our room by our landlady, for the accommodation of that important
personage. The commander of the patrol took supper with us--a lively,
talking, laughing Andaluz, who had made a campaign in South
America, and recounted his exploits in love and war with much pomp
of phrase, vehemence of gesticulation, and mysterious rolling of the
eye. He told us that he had a list of all the robbers in the country, and
meant to ferret out every mother's son of them; he offered us at the
same time some of his soldiers as an escort. "One is enough to protect
you, senores; the robbers know me, and know my men; the sight of one
is enough to spread terror through a whole sierra." We thanked him for
his offer, but assured him, in his own strain, that with the protection of
our redoubtable squire, Sancho, we were not afraid of all the ladrones
of Andalusia.
While we were supping with our Drawcansir friend, we heard the notes
of a guitar, and the click of castanets, and presently a chorus of voices
singing a popular air. In fact mine host had gathered together the

amateur singers and musicians, and the rustic belles of the
neighborhood, and, on going forth, the courtyard or patio of the inn
presented a scene of true Spanish festivity. We took our seats with
mine host and hostess and the commander of the patrol, under an
archway opening into the court; the guitar passed from hand to hand,
but a jovial shoemaker was the Orpheus of the place. He was a
pleasant-looking fellow, with huge black whiskers; his sleeves were
rolled up to his elbows. He touched the guitar with masterly skill, and
sang a little amorous ditty with an expressive leer at the women, with
whom he was evidently a favorite. He afterwards danced a fandango
with a buxom Andalusian damsel, to the great delight of the spectators.
But none of the females present could compare with mine host's pretty
daughter, Pepita, who had slipped away and made her toilette for the
occasion, and had covered her head with roses; and who distinguished
herself in a bolero with a handsome young dragoon. We ordered our
host to let wine and refreshment circulate freely among the company,
yet, though there was a motley assembly of soldiers, muleteers, and
villagers, no one exceeded the bounds of sober enjoyment. The scene
was a study for a painter: the picturesque group of dancers, the troopers
in their half military dresses, the peasantry wrapped in their brown
cloaks; nor must I omit to mention the old meagre Alguazil, in a short
black cloak, who took no notice of any thing going on, but sat in a
corner diligently writing by the dim light of a huge copper lamp, that
might have figured in the days of Don Quixote.
The following morning was bright and balmy, as a May morning ought
to be, according to the poets. Leaving Arahal at seven o'clock, with all
the posada at the door to cheer us off we pursued our way through a
fertile country, covered with grain and beautifully verdant; but which in
summer, when the harvest is over and the fields parched and brown,
must be monotonous and lonely; for, as in our ride of yesterday, there
were neither houses nor people to be seen. The latter all congregate in
villages and strong-holds among the hills, as if these fertile plains were
still subject to the ravages of the Moor.
At noon we came to where there was a group of trees, beside a brook in
a rich meadow. Here we alighted to make our midday meal. It was

really a luxurious spot, among wild flowers and aromatic herbs, with
birds singing around us. Knowing the scanty larders of Spanish inns,
and the houseless tracts we might have to traverse, we had taken care to
have the alforjas of our squire well stocked with cold provisions, and
his bota, or leathern bottle, which might hold a gallon, filled to the neck
with choice Valdepenas wine.[2] As we depended more upon these for
our well-being than even his trabuco, we exhorted him to be more
attentive in keeping them well charged; and I must do him the justice to
say that his namesake, the trencher-loving Sancho Panza, was never a
more provident purveyor. Though the alforjas and the bota were
frequently and vigorously assailed throughout the journey, they had a
wonderful power of repletion, our vigilant squire sacking every thing
that remained