ey-woolsey
just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of dried apples
and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled with the
gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him a peep into the
best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs and dark mahogany tables
shone like mirrors; and irons, with their accompanying shovel and
tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges
and conch-shells decorated the mantelpiece; strings of various
colored birds' eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich egg was
hung from the centre of the room, and a corner cupboard, knowingly
left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and well-mended
china."

It is an abrupt transition from these homely scenes, which humor
commends to our liking, to the chivalrous pageant unrolled for us in the
"Conquest of Granada." The former are more characteristic and the more
enduring of Irving's writings, but as a literary artist his genius
lent itself just as readily to oriental and medieval romance as to the
Knickerbocker legend; and there is no doubt that the delicate perception
he had of chivalric achievements gave a refined tone to his mock
heroics, which greatly heightened their effect. It may almost be claimed
that Irving did for Granada and the Alhambra what he did, in a totally
different way, for New York and its vicinity.

The first passage I take from the "Conquest" is the description of the
advent at Cordova of the Lord Scales, Earl of Rivers, who was brother of
the queen of Henry VII, a soldier who had fought at Bosworth field, and
now volunteered to aid Ferdinand and Isabella in the extermination of
the Saracens. The description is put into the mouth of Fray Antonio
Agapidda, a fictitious chronicler invented by Irving, an unfortunate
intervention which gives to the whole book an air of unveracity:

"'This cavalier [he observes] was from the far island of England,
and brought with him a train of his vassals; men who had been
hardened in certain civil wars which raged in their country. They
were a comely race of men, but too fair and fresh for warriors, not
having the sunburnt, warlike hue of our old Castilian soldiery.
They were huge feeders also, and deep carousers, and could not
accommodate themselves to the sober diet of our troops, but must
fain eat and drink after the manner of their own countr