296

SPAIN-MOUNT JOUY.

with the Frenchman and Swede, took a lodge at the theatre; but we were disappointed, there being only a comedy and vaudeville, and being unable to understand a word, were all of us very sleepy. We had, however, very good music, and a national dance-el bolero--after which we left. The next morning we passed playing cards with the Frenchman and Swede, and parted, hoping the morning would bring a summons to depart. But it not coming, we the next day sallied out for a walk to the fortress of Mont Jouy. This being the highest ground in the neighborhood, afforded us a delightful view of the city, as well as of the harbor, and far out into the open sea. A richly-cultivated plain extends from the city to the mountain that rose abruptly with a ridge of snow-capped Pyrenees, enclosing a plain dotted throughout with villages and towns, (we could count at least a dozen,) and the roads leading to them were as distinct as the lines on a chart. Turning at intervals to see the changes in the scenery that every step in our progress seemed to make, we reached at length the gate of the citadel. The sentinel would not allow us to enter, but a young officer politely came forward, and inquired if we had an order of admission. We said "no;" but upon telling him we were passengers in the steamer just arrived, he said if we would wait a moment, he would send and endeavor to obtain us admittance; he was unsuccessful, so without much regret on my part, we retraced our steps.

While at dinner, the captain called to say that an answer had arrived from the queen, who, not wishing to go on so soon, would take the next steamer; so we were at liberty to depart. We left the next morning at ten. The wind was high, and the sea rough-at least, sufficiently so to cause an unpleasant feeling, and make a horizontal position the most comfortable. We sailed near the coast, and were

charmed with the scenery and the color of the mountains; but the wind and sun were too much for me, and fairly drove me below, where I remained till after dinner, and then went on deck to see a fine sunset.

THIS morning we anchored in the harbor of Grao, the port of Valencia; the city being situated some three miles distant from the sea. We were landed by a large row-boat filled with a motley assortment of luggage and passengers. The vehicle that conveyed us to Valencia was primitive enough, and anything else than inviting, but it would not do to be fastidious where there was no choice. Though there was no variety, there certainly was no deficiency in number; they are constantly conveying people to and fro, from the port to the city, and number, we are told, four thousand. In appearance, they are much like our ice-carts; drawn by one horse, the driver having a seat on the hinder part of the right shaft. You enter in the rear by means of a crooked stick placed across from one side of the vehicle to the other, the floor is a netting made of ropes, and the seats, running like those in an omnibus, from end to end, are hung on leather straps. The horse goes only on a walk, for the vehicle, being without springs, a faster gait would jolt the life out of all within. There were seven of our party, drawn by a miserable, raw-boned beast, that looked as if he might claim indisputably to be a lineal descendant of Don Quixotte's Rosinante.

Near the landing, we passed a long row of government

stores, closed in by a gateway, with strong, heavy doors; passing these, we entered the village by another gateway, and were soon on the high-road to Valencia. The road itself is unique; it is straight and level, and lined the whole distance with immense trees, whose tops meet, forming an arch above, and when covered with their summer foliage, must form a delightful shade. At this time, they were just putting out a curious blossom, long, red and pendant, and in the field were almond trees, filled with pretty, pink blossoms. The trees by the way-side, grow in a deep trench, that is every day filled with water, during the dry season. They have had no rain now since last October, and the soil is like lime, it is so white and dry; the trunks and branches of the trees are white with the powdered earth, as well as the grass and bushes in the vicinity of the road. But when it does rain, they say it comes like a deluge; rendering the streets of the city, and the roads about it impassable from the mud and water.

Just before entering the city, we crossed a fine bridge over the Tauro or Gaudelite; it has ten fine arches, and two very good statues stand under a pretty tower, one on each side, near the centre of the bridge. The massive structure, at this time seemed quite misplaced, for there was no water beneath it; the bed of the river being as dry as all the region round, so that people were crossing it at various points, dry-shod. From this point we had a fine view of the city. The country around is irrigated by digging trenches, and letting in water from reservoirs, filled from wells, by means of a wheel kept constantly turning by a horse, in the same manner as is seen in Greece. This keeps the herbage green and luxuriant, so that the country does not present the dry and arid aspect you might fancy, from the long droughts to which they are subject.

Valencia looks magnificent as you approach it; it is

walled, has several fine bridges, and its beautiful domes, pagoda-like towers, with its rich verdure, and here and there a waving palm tree, give it a truly Asiatic aspect. On entering the city, a pretty garden greets the eye, filled with shrubbery, and flowers of various kinds, among which I could distinguish a profusion of roses. Here, too, they were preparing for the Queen's arrival, by erecting a column, surmounted by a statue, with wreaths and garlands, in the midst of this beautiful garden.

After breakfasting, we walked through the city; having for our cicerone a young Englishman, born at Gibraltar, who had been seven years in the Spanish service, attained the rank of major, and won three ribbons, and three stars or medals, which he wore on the left breast of his neat and handsome uniform. He is now ordered to Morocco, to do battle with the Moors. We entered the cathedral; it has a finely carved doorway, and is in the interior richly decorated with gilding, marble, paintings, &c., but will hardly compare with the beautiful Italian ones we have so lately seen. We went outside the gates leading to Saragossa, and saw all along the marks of the balls fired by the French. These walls were built by the Moors, and have, at intervals, narrow openings, for the swift-winged messenger of death then used, the arrow. The top of the wall has a pretty and fanciful ornament peculiar to the Moors, and which gives them an appearance different from those of walled cities generally. The streets are all very narrow and crooked, and will not compare in this respect, nor in the number of its public walks with Barcelona. But it has retained its air of antiquity, that Barcelona has lost in the more modern improvements it has acquired in its commercial intercourse with the French and Italian ports of the Mediterranean.

There are very many palaces, and buildings formerly