"Connected with Valencia, are several of the old Spanish romances about the Cid--he who in all his battles, and on occasions when he was misjudged, remained true to his God, his people, and himself; he who, in his own time, took rank with the monarchs of Spain, and down to our own time is the pride of the country which he was mainly instrumental in rescuing from the infidels. As a conqueror he entered Valencia, and here lived with his noble and heroic wife, Zimena, and his daughters, Doña Sol and Doña Elvira; and here he died in 1099. Here stood around his bed of death all who were dear to him. Even his very warhorse, Babieca, was ordered to be called thither. In song, it is said that the horse stood like a lamb, and gazed with his large eyes upon his master, who could no more speak than the poor horse himself. ... Through the streets of Valencia passed at night the extraordinary cavalcade to San Peder de Cordoña, which the departed chief had desired should be his burial-place. The victorious colors of the Cid were carried in front. Four hundred knights protected them. Then came the corpse. Upright upon his war-horse sat the dead; arrayed in his armor with his shield and his helmet, his long white beard flowing down to his breast. "Gil Diaz and Bishop Jeronymo escorted the body on either side; then followed Doña Zimena with three hundred noblemen. The gate of Valencia toward Castile was opened, and the procession passed silently and slowly out into the open fields, where the Moorish army was encamped. A dark Moorish woman shot at them a poisoned arrow, but she and a hundred of her sisters paid the forfeit of their lives for that deed. Thirty-six Moorish princes were in the camp; but terror seized upon them when they beheld the dead hero on his white charger. 'And to their vessels they took flight, And many sprang into the waves. Two thousand, certainly, that night Amid the billows found their graves.' "And the Cid Campeador thus won, after he was dead, good tents, gold and silver; and the poorest in Valencia became rich. So says the old 'Song of the Cid in Valencia.' Cordova -- Province Of Andalusia -- Fonda Suiza -- Hotel Suisse. September 18. After a long night journey, (by rail,) we reach a hotel rivalling the cleanness and comfort of the genuine Swiss hotel, and find ourselves in the ancient capital of the Moorish empire, and in that lovely, bright Andalusia, so famed throughout the world.