The valley is admirably irrigated, however, from other sources, and the crops it produces are remarkably fine and very various. They consist of fruits and vegetables of all sorts, maize, corn, and sugar-canes. On the right hand, but at some distance, rises the lofty Sierra de Tejeda; on the left are visible the rugged peaks of the mountains of Antequera; whilst in front, the road continues to be directed towards the elevated passes of Zafaraya, which serrate the great mountain-chain of Alhama.

About four miles beyond the venta of Vinuela—that is, twelve miles from Velez, and half way between it and Alhama—is the venta of Alcaucin.[130] Beyond this the ascent becomes much steeper, and the road, reaching the summit of the mountain range, enters a narrow and difficult pass, that soon shuts out the view of the sea. In exchange, however, it opens to the north, into a lovely and singularly secluded valley, which is walled in on all sides by barren and rugged tors, and carpeted with the richest vegetation; and, proceeding a short distance onwards, we were yet further gratified by obtaining an imposing view of the famed Sierra Nevada.

The road from hence is tolerably good nearly all the way to Alhama, which is not seen until one arrives immediately over it. The descent is abrupt and bad.

Alhama stands on the brink of a stupendous tajo, or fissure, through which the river Marchan forces its way towards the great plain of Granada. Encompassed on all sides by wild, impracticable sierras, it commands the only tolerable road that, for the distance of nearly forty miles, presents itself to traverse the lofty mountain spine, which stretches east and west, along the Mediterranean shore; that is to say, the portion of this chain which extends between the pass of Alfarnate—where the great road from Malaga to Loja crosses it; and the sources of the river Durcal—round which winds the road from Almuñecar to Granada.

From this circumstance, the Moors ever regarded this mountain fortress as a place of first-rate importance, calling it, indeed, the key of Granada; and it was not without reason they did so, since the fall, first of Malaga, and then of their beloved city itself, was mainly attributable to the capture of this place, by Don Rodrigo Ponce de Leon, who took it by surprise, A.D., 1481.

Even in the present day, it is a formidable port; but artillery has now been brought to such perfection, and is made to traverse such difficult country, that its defenders would soon be buried beneath its ruins.

Alhama seems to occupy the site of the Roman town of Artigi, mentioned by Pliny as one of the cities lying inland between the upper Guadalquivír and the Mediterranean Sea. But no vestiges of walls of greater antiquity than the time of the Moors are any where visible. Its present name is evidently derived from the Arabic, Al Hamman (the Bath).

Besides the fame enjoyed by Alhama, from its bygone strength and strategical importance—its numerous sieges and obstinate defences—the place is in high repute from the curative properties of its thermal springs; and it derives yet further celebrity from the various laurel wreaths twined round it by the poets and romancers of all ages. The translation of one of its plaintive legends has not been thought unworthy even of the pen of Byron.[131]

Divest Alhama, however, of its historical recollections, of its hot water, its poetry, and romance, and it is one of the dullest, dirtiest, and most sultry towns of southern Spain. The streets are narrow, houses poor, and churches and convents dilapidated.

It is supplied with water by means of an aqueduct, and the stream is sufficiently abundant to keep it clean and sweet, but for some filthy dyers; who first turn it to their own purpose, and then into the public streets. Although so little ground in the vicinity of Alhama is susceptible of cultivation, and the place contains but a few inconsiderable manufactories of woollen clothes, yet the population is said to amount to 10,000 souls. I have great doubts, however, whether it would not be over-rated at half that number.