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mitted to this process of decoration, held by as many young Gipseys in as many different directions, whilst the old crone their mother divested him of his fleece. These people are almost universally tall and well made, their figures and carriage having in a rare degree the air of freedom and unconstraint. The women are very beautiful, their features, as well as those of the men, being very regular; with an Asiatic complexion and cast of countenance; long, straight, and very black hair; full dark eyes, and teeth of pearly whiteness. They are all fond of appearing in the worn out finery of the Andalusian dandies, and have a taste for elegance, though it be even in rags, Their pranks are often exhibited on the Spanish stage to the great delight of the audience, who receive their quaint practical jokes and less innocent rogueries with the greatest glee. Indeed they have the character of being a light hearted and happy race, and, notwithstanding their vicious propensities, are looked on with an extra share of that indulgence which is extended to vagrants of all classes in Spain.
There is much in the cast of countenance, complexion, and unfettered conformation of these Gipseys, in connection with their mendicant air and the distinctness of their appearance, character, and sympathies, from those of the Spaniards around them, to remind an American of the vagrant Indians whom he has seen loitering about the frontier settlements of his native country. The Gipseys of Spain do not, however, excite the same sympathy as our unhappy aborigines. They came to that country of their own accord, and with a view to better their condition, bringing their vices with them, and making them instrumental to self support and to the preservation of their identity. But the Indians, instead of dispossessing, are the dispossessed; their degradation, instead of being derived from their savage state, has supplanted the wild virtues that adorned it, and is at once the result of civilized encroachment and the efficient cause of their ruin.
It was in order to see something of the domestic economy of this strange race, of whom we daily met many in the streets of Granada, that we one morning took a walk to the caves of the Albaycin, where they have their subterranean habitations. Crossing the ravine of the Daro, and passing through the more populous portion of the Albaycin, whose houses are often incorporated with the ruins of walls, that mark the gradual expansion of Granada, as it augmented its population in the days of the Saracens, we began at length to ascend the more
precipitous portion of the rival mountain, where it looks towards the valley of the Daro and the fortress of the Alhambra. The Albaycin may be called the rival of the Alhambra, not only from its position immediately opposite, the two mountains being drawn up on either side of the Daro, and frowning upon each other, the Pillars of Hercules in miniature; but because in Moorish days it was crowned with a fortress of nearly equal strength, which sometimes arrayed itself in hostility. When two kings reigned not only in the same kingdom, but in the single eity of Granada, it was the fortress of the Albaycin that formed the court and strong hold of Boabdil el Chico. Of this fortress scarce a vestige now remains; it doubtless dates its demolition from the period when, after the conquest, the Moriscos were compelled to take up their abode within the precincts of the Albaycin.
As we went on ascending, the streets of the Albaycin passed gradually into zig-zag pathways winding their way up the acclivity; and the houses rising above each other along the hill side, gave place to caves artificially hollowed beneath the surface of the earth. The whole superior part of the mountain was perforated like a honeycomb, and contained within its bowels a numerous population, of which, however, none of the ordinary indications could be discovered, except the wreaths of thin smoke which rose in every direction, curling among the prickly-pear bushes, which covered the whole surface, and furnished food to the poor inhabitants who lived below. AE one of the first caves we managed an invitation to walk in, by asking a decent old woman for some water. When within the door, and we began to recover our sight, we found ourselves in an apartment of regular figure, and wanting in none of the comforts of life. A fire-place stood in front of the entrance, its chimney being perforated upwards through the rock. On the right was the door of the principal bed-room; it had a circular window or loop hole, was very clean and neat, and was ornamented with crosses, artificial flowers, and rude paintings of the saints. There were other apartments penetrating farther into the recesses of the mountain, and which received no light from without; these served for sleeping chambers and store rooms. The rock here, like that of the adjoining mountain, which contains the Mazmorras, is of a soft nature and is easily cut, but hardens by exposure to the air. The caves that are hewn in it are more comfortable than the ordinary habitations of the poor, keep out the weather effectually, and
being less subject to changes of temperature, are comparatively warm in winter and cool in summer.
Taking leave of our old woman and her cave, we proceeded eastward along the acclivity, until we found ourselves among the more wretched of these subterranean dwellings, the fit abode of Gipseys, vagabonds, and robbers. Having singled out one which we supposed to belong to the first of these honorable classes, from a group of tawny and more than half naked children, whom we found at their gambols before the door, we took the liberty of entering it, after the utterance of an ave maria purisima. We found no one within but a young Gipsey girl, scated on the stone floor, surrounded by a litter of straw, which she was sleepily weaving into braid for a bonnet. Beside her was a wild, shaggy dog, which, like those of our Indians, seemed to have adapted himself to the strange life of his masters, and gone back to his original and wolf-like condition. The dog is an accommodating animal; not only in manners, habits, and character, but even in appearance, he learns to assimilate himself to his owner. The dog of a prince takes something of a prince's pomposity; the butcher's dog shares in the butcher's fierceness; the dog of a thief may be easily known by his skulking, hang-gallows air; and that of the poor beggar learns to look as humble and imploring as his master. The theory may fail as often as any other theory; but at all events it applied to the treacherous cur, who now growled at our intrusion, until it was sanctioned by his mistress; when, though he ceased his menacings, he took his station beside her, and still kept a watchful and lowering eye upon us. The young women too seemed embarassed by our presence; and when we would have had our fortunes told by her, she pleaded ignorance, bade us come when her mother should be there, and appeared willing to be rid of us. Ere we relieved her of our presence, we had time to remark that, though neither very clean nor very tidy, she was yet pretty as Preciosa herself. Her features were regular and expressive, with glowing eyes, and a form finely moulded and unperverted by artificial embarassments. She had moreover a modest look, and seemed to justify the idea, that chastity could exist, as it is said to do, in so humble and unfettered a condition. Indeed, whatever may be the vices of the Spanish Gipseys, Cervantes tells us that they respect this virtue both in their wives and damsels, forming none but permanent connexions, which, though not sanctioned by matrimony, are only
broken by common consent. He gives them credit too for assuming, in an eminent degree towards each other, the laws and obligations of friendship. They do not take the trouble to pursue crimes committed among them before the tribunals of the country; but, like many others in Spain who are not Gipseys, execute justice on their own account.
MEMOIR OF ROBERT C. SANDS.
Since the first pages of this Magazine were in type, one upon whom reliance was placed for many valuable contributions to its pages, an author of high merit, “a scholar and a ripe and good one,” devoted to literary pursuits with an ardor and a constancy rare among our countrymen, and of a temper and disposition amiable and excellent beyond that of most men, has been called away from us. Such an intellect should not be suffered to depart without notice, and in this article it is proposed to sketch briefly his life and character.
ROBERT C. SANDS was born in New York on the eleventh of May, 1799. He was the son of Comfort Sands, Esq. for many years an eminent merchant of that city, who is honorably mentioned in Sparks's Life of Ledyard, as a liberal patron of that intrepid traveler, and who, during the events of the revolution had distinguished himself by his zeal and activity in the cause of liberty. Young Sands was noted in early life for his quickness of intellect and his facility in acquiring knowledge. At seven years of age he began the study of Latin in the school of Mr. Rose, at Brooklyn, on Long Island. At a subsequent period he pursued his classical studies under the instructions of Mr. Findlay, at the beautiful village of Newark, in the state of New-Jersey. It was Mr. Findlay, as he frequently remarked, who succeeded in inspiring him with a taste for the works of Virgil, which was never lost in the midst of all the various occupations in which he afterwards engaged. The Æneid was his refreshment when wearied by severer studies; and to the last day of his life it was a common practice with him, whenever he wished to kindle his imagination, or awaken the intellectual glow favorable to eloquent composition, to read a few pages of the rich harmonies of the Mantuan poet. He was afterwards placed under the care of the Rev.
Melancthon Whelpley, of New-York, subsequently pastor of the Presbyterian church in Wall-street, by whom he was prepared for college. He was admitted to the Sophomore class of Columbia College, in October, 1812, after a private examination. At this institution, where the dead languages are taught with an exactness not common in the American schools, he continued to pursue with zeal and success, the study of the authors of antiquity, especially the poets, whom he read with a true and strong relish of their beauties. Hence, in classical learning, he did not become a mere auceps syllabarum, although in the department of philology he was by no means deficient, but early learned to apply to the works of the ancients the rules of a liberal and comprehensive criticism. Perhaps it should be mentioned as somewhat remarkable, that he mastered the various branches of mathematics, taught at Columbia College, with the same ease and the same readiness of comprehension as his favorite classics. He never, however, it is believed, recurred to these studies, and the success with which he has pursued them, is a proof rather of a capacity than an inclination for acquiring them.
About a year after his matriculation, he set on foot, in 1814, in conjunction with his friend, the late Rev. James W. Eastburn, and others, a literary periodical, entitled “ The Moralist,” of which one number only was published. In February of the next year, a similar work was undertaken by the same association, with better success. It was entitled “ Academic Recreations,” and continued in existence as long as many very respectable magazines have done in this country, namely, to the end of the year. To this work Mr. Sands was a large contributor, both in prose and verse. He was always fond of the occupation, or rather the pastime of composition, for such it was to him. He wrote with incredible facility; his pen was as fluent, and hesitated as little, as the tongue of the most accomplished debater, and he possessed a variety and an affluence of allusion, that gave to his unpremeditated essays the air of being the fruit of special study for the occasion.
He was graduated in 1815, and soon after entered his name: as a student at law in the office of David B. Ogden, Esq., of New-York. It might naturally be supposed, that one so much addicted to the pursuit of elegant literature, would find little attraction in the study of our jurisprudence. The fact, however, seems to have been different. Mr. Sands delighted, as a mental exercise, in fathoming the abstruse doctrines and fol