The Berber destroyed the
Gothic monarchy. Castile and Leon fought their way down inch by inch
through three centuries from Covadonga to Toledo, halfway in time and
territory to Granada and the Midland Sea. And since then how many royal
feet have trodden this breezy crest,--Sanchos and Henrys and
Ferdinands,--the line broken now and then by a usurping uncle or a
fratricide brother,--a red-handed bastard of Trastamara, a star-gazing
Alonso, a plotting and praying Charles, and, after Philip, the dwindling
scions of Austria and the nullities of Bourbon. This height has known as
well the rustle of the trailing robes of queens,--Berenguela, Isabel the
Catholic, and Juana,--Crazy Jane. It was the prison of the widow of
Philip IV. and mother of Charles II. What wonder if her life left much
to be desired? With such a husband and such a son, she had no memories
nor hopes.
The kings have had a long day here. They did some good in their time.
But the world has outgrown them, and the people, here as elsewhere, is
coming of age. This Alcazar is built more strongly than any dynasty. It
will make a glorious school-house when the repairs are finished and the
Republic is established, and then may both last forever!
One morning at sunrise, I crossed the ancient bridge of Alcantara, and
climbed the steep hill east of the river to the ruined castle of San
Cervantes, perched on a high, bold rock, which guards the river and
overlooks the valley.
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