After a lapse of some years, a Hermit applied to the owner of the property, for permission to make the haunted cavern his cell; and, trusting that his prayers would be instrumental in laying the troublesome Sprite, his request was readily granted.
The holy man who thus proffered his good offices, though bent down and infirm, had not the eye of one stricken in years; neither did his flowing beard, though white as the undrifted snow on the surrounding mountain tops, appear to have been blanched so much by time, as by privations and sufferings. He went out but seldom, and then only to attend upon the sick and poor. Within the city walls he was never known to enter. He had travelled much—had made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and visited the Holy house at Loreto—was known to carry on a correspondence with some of the first dignitaries of the Pontifical City,—and never wanted money.
By his piety, munificence, and benevolence, Father Anselmo at length attained such celebrity throughout the country, that his prayers were considered nearly as efficacious as those of most saints.—He sunk gradually and quietly to his grave. Not having been seen for several days, those to whose wants he was in the daily habit of administering consulted together as to the steps to be taken to ascertain his fate. They determined to enter his cell, and, as he would never permit a soul to cross the bridge, procured a long ladder to enable them to effect their purpose. On gaining admission, they discovered Anselmo’s body, stiffened unto death, in the attitude of prayer. His knees were bent before an Altar, on which stood a small gold crucifix, of exquisite workmanship; but his head had fallen forwards on his clasped hands.—By his side lay a poignard. Its point was corroded with the deep rust of years; but every other part of the shining blade bore evidence of the peculiar care which has been taken of its preservation. Its hilt was a glittering mass of costly diamonds.
From the deceased hermit’s neck a small packet was suspended, containing a lock of auburn hair, and on the envelope, the following words were written, in Anselmo’s hand. “For thee have I passed a life of celibacy and seclusion!—for disobeying thy sacred injunctions have I been sorely chastened!—Sainted Virgin! plead for me with our Heavenly Father, that the sins I have committed in this world may be forgiven in that which is to come!”
It was evident,—said the worthy Padre, concluding his long story,—it was evident, Don Carlos, that his prayer could be addressed to no other than the Holy Virgin, Mother of our blessed Saviour,—and, consequently, that the lock of hair must have been her’s. It was accordingly sent to Toledo, and deposited in the church of San Juan de los Reyes,—where a magnificent urn—now probably melted down into some atheistical French Marshal’s soup tureen—enclosed for many years the precious relic. What became of the poignard I know not.
The pious Anselmo was buried with great pomp, and numberless miracles have been wrought at his grave;—the mischievous fairy feared to return to a place purified by so holy a person;—the passage leading to the subterranean apartments has long been filled up;—and the miraculous bridge decayed and was carried away by the stream.
We have put up a cross to scare away evil spirits; but they nevertheless say, that strange noises are yet heard, and flickering lights occasionally seen in the vicinity. I do not attach much credit to such tales. “Fallax vulgi judicium,” (the good Father loved a scrap of Latin) and—producing from his pocket a white cambric handkerchief, and wiping his forehead with it, as if to show he had some notion of the use to which the cavern was at the present day applied, he added—“I dare say you are equally sceptical.”—I will now, Don Carlos, wish you a pleasant Siesta—“Dios guard’ usted.”[108]
CHAPTER VIII.
DEPARTURE FOR MALAGA—SCENERY ON AND DANGERS OF THE ROAD TO EL BURGO—FINE VIEW FROM CASARABONELA—AN INDEPENDENT INNKEEPER—A SPANISH BATTLE, ATTENDED WITH MORE DECISIVE RESULTS THAN USUAL—DESCRIPTION OF CASARABONELA—COMELINESS OF ITS WASHING NYMPHS—ROAD TO MALAGA—RIVER GUADALJORCE—SIGILA OF THE ROMANS—CARTAMA.