A bridge across the Guadalquivir, which at this point is tolerably broad, leads into Cordova as you come from Ecija. Close to it are the ruins of some ancient arches, and of an Arabian aqueduct. The head of the bridge is defended by a large square embattlemented tower, supported by casemates of a more recent date. The city gates not being yet open, a large collection of carts drawn by oxen majestically crowned with tiaras of yellow and red spartum, mules and white asses loaded with chopped straw, countrymen with sugar-loaf hats, and brown woollen _capas_, which fell down before and behind like a priest's cape, and which are put on by thrusting your head through a hole made in the middle, were all waiting with the calmness and patience peculiar to Spaniards, who never appear to be in a hurry. A similar crowd at one of the Paris Barriers would have created a horrible disturbance, and given vent to all sorts of invectives and abuse, but here we heard no other noise but the tinkling of the brass bell attached to the collar of some mule, and the silvery sound of that hung round the neck of the _coronel_ ass changing his position, or resting his head upon the neck of one of his long-eared brethren. We took advantage of this temporary stoppage to examine, at our leisure, the external aspect of Cordova. A handsome gateway, like a triumphal arch, of the Ionic order, and of such good taste that it might be supposed to be of Roman origin, forms a majestic entrance to the city of the Caliphs, although I should prefer one of those beautiful Moorish arches, shaped like a heart, similar to those you see at Granada. The Cathedral Mosque rises above the outer walls and the roofs of the town more like a citadel than a temple, with its high walls denticulated with Arabian embrazures, and its heavy Catholic dome cowering on the Oriental platform. It must be confessed that the walls are daubed over with a very abominable yellow. Without being precisely one of those who admire mouldy, black, leprous-looking edifices, I have a particular horror of that infamous pumpkin colour which possesses such attractions for the priests, the chapters, and the vestry-boards of all countries, since they never fail disfiguring with it the marvellous edifices confided to their care. These buildings always should be, and always have been painted even during the purest periods of the art, only the peculiar shade and nature of the coating they receive ought to be selected with more taste. At last the gates were open, and we had the preliminary gratification of being searched rather strictly by the custom-house officers; after which, we were at liberty to proceed, accompanied by our luggage, to the nearest _parador_.