As time passes on, we find the Moors holding the islands in subjection for a space of four hundred years. On the last day of the year 1229, however, Don Jayme, King of Aragon, having, with his fleet, weathered a fearful storm--an event most trying to the faith of his crusaders, and critical to the future of Majorca--landed with his Christian host, and encamped a few miles from the city. On the morning following, the Holy Sacrament was administered to the Soldiers of the Cross, who, burning with sacred zeal and inspired with the ardour of conquerors, marched with horse and foot upon the foe, led by the young king shouting his battle-cry of "Advance, ye braves! By your arms alone the Lord delivers yon country from the grasp of the Infidel. Forward!" As the Christian army, however, upon nearing the enemy, looked upon their great numbers and formidable position, their hearts seemed to fail. Observing this, the chivalrous Don Jayme rode out alone to an open space between the opposing hosts, and, crying aloud to the Virgin to inspire with courage the hearts of her warriors, he bent the knee in fervent prayer. Filled at once with feelings of shame, admiration, and zeal, the leading ranks rushed on to the breach, with a loud cry of "Sancta Maria!" and, in a few hours, over piles of mingled dead, Moor and Christian, amongst the smoke of burning houses, and the dust and roar of battle, the Christian banner floated over the city of Palma. So here again we may say, "Palmam qui meruit ferat." Looking at the city from the sea, it has a very Oriental appearance. This peculiarity is produced by the flat-roofed houses and bare, yellow walls, with the cactus and prickly pear growing against them, the minaret-like steeples and mosque-like buildings, the light arcades and trellis-work of the dwelling-houses, together with the frequent palm, the long bamboo, and the fig growing in all directions. Nothing can be more agreeable than to lounge in the mellow evening along the broad ramparts, against which the blue waters gently splash, and to gaze upon the high mountain range, seen afar off, with the rocky summits tinged with a pinkish hue by the reflection of the sun's declining rays. This walk is the Rambla, or public promenade, on which, although the dire _chignon_ is, we fear, beginning to exhibit its deformity, one may meet with many a lovely daughter of the South draped in the black lace shawl and the graceful mantilla. Amongst the female peasants, a peculiar form of head-dress is adopted, called the Rebosiño, more quaint, we think, than elegant. It consists of a stiff frill radiating from the head and face, while from the nape of the neck depends a single long plait of hair, which is caught in with the sash encircling the waist. In fact, the entire costume is very similar to that of many of the Swiss cantons. The male peasant dons a simple goat-skin, very wide knickerbockers, linen leggings, sandals, and red cap or hat with a broad brim.