Coca 



The castle of Coca soon appeared in the distance. It 

 did not seem anything very remarkable, though we had 

 read in the guide-book that it was a splendid specimen of a 

 Castilian fortress. We inquired of an old man, who was 

 driving a herd of horses into the town, what sort of an 

 edifice it was? He replied, "Poco" (a mere nothing), 

 and shook his head contemptuously over the insignificance 

 of the ruin. 



However, as we had arrived early, and had dined before 

 sunset, we repaired to the castle, and found it indeed a very 

 striking ruin. It rises from the bottom of a great hole 

 about forty feet deep, excavated near the brow of a hill. 

 This deep cavity is walled round like a well. From its 

 edge, of course, when you see all the bottom of the castle, 

 otherwise concealed in the pit, the grandeur of the building 

 is much increased. 



It is a regular old-fashioned, heraldic-looking castle, with 

 pepper-box turrets at the top corners. It is entered by a 

 bridge on the north side. The interior is of a somewhat 

 modern Arabesque. The old posadero of La Cruz, to 

 whom we were recommended for information, knew 

 nothing about it, but thought the Duques de Alva had been 

 its alcaides in the old time. 



There is a tall watch-tower standing on higher ground 

 than the castle, 400 or 500 yards distant. 



At sunset, on my way back to the posada, passing through 

 the straggling outskirts of the town, I stopped before the 

 gate of an untidy little garden. Here an aged priest in a 

 very seedy, old, ragged sotana^ with a greasy black skullcap 

 on the top of his head, was stooping down, and sticking 

 little lath crosses in the ground. 



He had a little boy helping him, who carried an armful 

 of these crosses, which he took one by one, held it up before 



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