Baton-Rouge gazette. [volume] (Baton-Rouge, La.) 1819-1856, 1850-07-13
The Broken Heart.
A LEGEND or oLD SPAIN

1t was lovely evening in autumn, b
the tired mules scrambled NJ the last stee
elevation to the mountain gorge, wher
the traveller looks down from the stupehd
o,'s range Of the Pyrenees, on the city an,
castle Of Rosas, as seen from the old roa,
leadihg from Folk and Tnrascon, and AZ
caught sight once more of the blue sen
and pa,Itsed to feast my vision upon tin
multitude of beautiful fentures in th
magnificent landscape, | forgot for th
moment that ! whs weary nnd hungry
and that witl,al ! had been rather cross
to my old friend Diego, the mueteer il
my engerness to urge him forward to tin
end OF the long aud tedious days travel
The worthy old fellow forgot it too, for HI
shouted in the excess Of his delight, as Il,
pointed alternately to the sea, and to hi
humble cot, the home Of his boyllood, ii
the valley beneath lis, and must confess
that shared for the moment in his feelings
ns looked on the blue evpanse Of til,
Mediterranean. from which ] hatl beef, 81
long absent and which seemed to bind m,
MS connecting link to my own lovet
land
Around us were castled crags and fan
tnst'c peaks, the latter covered with snow
u,d piercing the very clouds, whilst oc
casonally n cool breeze came down the
iitu,ntain SLOPES, to fan our brows, heated
with the exercise Of the ascent, as we has
sought from tiihn to time to relieve the
wetsty mules Of their burden Whilst we
stopped for few moments to allow the
tired animals to breuthe, saw far to the
right ct the gurge, the shattered towers d
castlr, not more picturesque in the
uriglnal massive solitlity Of its bold turrets
which stood in stfong relief against tho
clear blue sky, than remarkable for its
position as n place Of strength on the
proud clin, chosen ages before as a strong.
hold by the Spanish noble, whose sway, |,
appeared, hnd been acknowledged by all
the valleys around
My coinpenion, Diego, hnd marked the
eagcrliess of my gaae; aud as we turned
the point Of the precipice to descend into
the valley, he spoke Of fearful tragedy
which those old walls witnessed, and at
my desire, he promised to relate the story
to me, when wh0 should reacll his home,
where, for the want Of better accoIn,no.
datioiis, | was to pass night, previous to
entering Rosns, still few leagues distant
With cautious steps our mules gradually
descended, ns tho shadows of evening
gathered around the lofty mountain tops,
~ we gfYned the gloomy bottom Of the
valley, and torded the rushing torrent which
went brewling and leaping over the rocks
to disappear in the darkness beyond, my
las. look towards the elil above caught the
moons bright rays silvering the ruin.
Reaching our destination for the night,
wnrin were the greetings which passed
between Diego and his family and I
almost envied the old fellow M he asked
me in tho height Of his satisfaction and self.
cothpacenry, in the words of the old
Spanish provetb-" What fire Of strangers
seqnal to the smoke of one owl, hearth7 .
Here | may rs well, perhaps, briefly
describe my friend Diego, to whom am,
indebted for the story am about to pre-
sent my readers. lie was man soma
sixty years of age, tall and sine,vy clad IN
tile plctureqiie costume of the peasunts Of
Catalonia, and with military mir, gailled
by long service in the Spanish army in
lls youth, when, notwithstanding his
humble calling, did much at the first
glance to inspire respect. His face the
hue OF which was not unlike that of the
parchment of well beaten drum.head,
naturally sedate, and almost grl,n in ex.
preston, was not Mt all improved by n
severe sabre cut on one check. renching
from his left eye to the corner of his mouth
tor which, as hc told wc he was indebted
to the partizians of Don Carlos, whom he
thoroughly dc'ested but Notwithstanding
all these injuries to his beauty, as he had a
talent fund Of good h,nnor and lively
sense of the ludicro,,s, which. when
aroused, sparkled in his large blnc, eyes,
and half redeemed his fncc from the stamp
OF i'll nature. which time aud lard usage
had seemingly conspircd to fix there
Wi'lal, he wns honest and warm-hearted,
and possessed ofa large fund of good
sense, which many years on the march,
and around the campfire had strengthened
and improved. ..
Seated on the mtle-sa,ldles bv the
blazing fire light after our frugal supper
of bread and olive, rcmined him of his
promised story Of the old castle on tho
cliff
All. Senor, said hc---it il sad story,
alas though there arc many now living in
the valley who know it to le true. But
what will not pride do. And he crossed
himself with n devout air, as only u
Spanish peasant can. What will not pride
do---he repeated, as he drew his doublet
around him. apparently communng with
himself, rather than expecting from me an
answer; and he gazed with an distracted
look into the fire, which threw its red light
upon the wild looking group
in readiness for the oft repeated talc--of
which tho reader will pardon me for giving
2 free translation.
That was grand old castle once, Senor,
rs you may know from the ruins which are
still left upon the height, and those who
in former times inhabited it, were among
the proudest, as we'll as the most powerful
of the mobiles of old Spain. Many hundred
years had its lords held sway over the
poor people Of the valleys, until bereft of
their estates, and shorn of their power.
The last male descendant OF these
princely marauders, the Count Avaro de
Morlans, though noble as proud rs the
proudest Of his long line of ancestors, was
but little more than beggar. Despoiled
Of their retainers, of their revenues, of