Indeed, many of the mountaineers from the Alpuxarras and the
Sierra de Ronda, who now bow to the cross as zealous Catholics, bear
the stamp of their Moorish origin, and are indubitable descendants
of the fickle subjects of Boabdil.
Under the guidance of Mateo, I made my way through streets already
teeming with a holiday population, to the square of the Vivarrambla,
that great place for tilts and tourneys, so often sung in the
Moorish ballads of love and chivalry. A gallery or arcade of wood
had been erected along the sides of the square, for the grand
religious procession of the following day. This was brilliantly
illuminated for the evening as a promenade; and bands of music were
stationed on balconies on each of the four facades of the square.
All the fashion and beauty of Granada, all of its population of either
sex that had good looks or fine clothes to display, thronged this
arcade, promenading round and round the Vivarrambla. Here, too, were
the majos and majas, the rural beaux and belles, with fine forms,
flashing eyes, and gay Andalusian costumes; some of them from Ronda
itself, that strong-hold of the mountains, famous for contrabandistas,
bull-fighters, and beautiful women.
While this gay but motley throng kept up a constant circulation in
the gallery, the centre of the square was occupied by the peasantry
from the surrounding country; who made no pretensions to display,
but came for simple, hearty enjoyment.
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