mmer use; and a great spinning-wheel at one end, and a
churn at the other, showed the various uses to which this important
porch might be devoted. From this piazza the wondering Ichabod
entered the hall, which formed the centre of the mansion and the
place of usual residence. Here, rows of resplendent pewter, ranged
on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner stood a huge bag
of wool ready to be spun; in another a quantity of linsey-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 mediaeval 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
Agapida, 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,
|