THE ALHAMBRA AND THE SIERRA NEVADA.
a brilliant exotic that took no fixed root in the soil it adorned. Severed from all their neighbours in the West by impassable barriers of faith and manners, and separated by seas and deserts from their kindred in the East, they remained an isolated people. Their whole existence was a prolonged and gallant struggle to maintain a foothold in a land usurped. The few relics of the miserable and proscribed race were ultimately expelled from the Peninsula, under the administration of the Duke of Lerma, during the reign of Philip III.—a measure which, by depriving Spain of a numerous and industrious population, inflicted a severe blow on her agriculture and commerce.
Never was the annihilation of a nation more complete. Where are they? The exiled remnant of a once powerful people became assimilated with the predatory hordes of Barbary and the desert southward. A few broken monuments are all that remain to bear witness to their power and dominion in Europe.
Such is the Alhambra; an epoch marking relic—a Moslem pile in the midst of a Christian land; an Oriental palace amidst the Gothic edifices of the West; an elegant memento of a brave, intelligent, and graceful people who conquered, ruled, and passed away.
L’Alhambra! l’Alhambra! palais que les Génies
Ont doré comme un rêve et rempli d’harmonies;
Forteresse aux créneaux festonnés et croulans,
Où l’on entend la nuit de magiques syllables,
Quand la lune, à travers les milles arceaux arabes,
Sème les murs de trèfles blancs!
Les Orientales, par Victor Hugo.
The Alhambra—the Acropolis of Granada—is, indeed, a pearl of great price in the estimation of all travellers, exciting in the breast of the stranger the most absorbing interest and concentrated devotion. To realise the full spell—the mystery and the magic of the Alhambra—one must live in the building by day and contemplate it—like the ruins of fair Melrose—by moonlight, when all is still. “Who can do justice,” says Washington Irving, “to a moonlight night in such a climate and in such a place! The temperature of an Andalusian midnight in summer is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into
ASCENT TO THE ALHAMBRA BY THE CUESTA DEL REY CHICO—LESSER KING HILL.
a purer atmosphere; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirit, an elasticity of frame, that renders mere existence enjoyment. The effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra, has something like enchantment. Every rent and chasm of time, every mouldering tint and weather-stain disappears; the marble resumes its original whiteness; the long colonnades brighten in the moonbeams; the halls are illuminated with a softened radiance until the whole edifice reminds one of the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale.”