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In Spain to-day everything is dated from "La Gloriosa," the Revolution of 1868, the "Day of Spanish Liberty," as it well deserves to be called, and there is every reason to look back with pride upon that time; because, after the battle of Alcoléa, when the cry raised in the Puerta del Sol, Viva Prim! was answered by the troops shut up in the Government offices, and the people, swarming up the rejas and the balconies, fraternised with their brothers-in-arms, who had been intended, could they have been trusted by their commanders, to shoot them down, Madrid was for some days wholly in the hands of King Mob, and of King Mob armed.

But the fall of Novaliches at the Bridge of Alcolea decided the fate not only of the ministry but of the dynasty; and while General Concha was waiting for the train to leave Madrid, Isabel of Bourbon and Divine Right were passing the Pyrenees.

They announced that his holiness was now going into the lottery business with brilliant prospects of success; that he could now tell what Father Manterola had done with the thirty thousand dollars' worth of bulls he sold last year and punctually neglects to account for, and other levities of the sort, which seemed greatly relished, and which would have burned the facetious author two centuries before, and fined and imprisoned him before the fight at Alcolea.

Leaving Cordova, our road followed the Guadalquivir, along the foot of the Sierra Morena, which rose dark and stern, a barrier to the central table-lands of La Mancha. At Alcolea, we crossed the river on a noble bridge of black marble, out of all keeping with the miserable road. It rained incessantly, and the scenery through which we passed had a wild and gloomy character.

"I shall then have nothing to do but a military promenade," he wrote to General Savary. On the 7th June, after a pretty keen fight, the French troops took the bridge of Alcolea, on the Guadalquivir, and arrived the same evening before Cordova.

At the bridge of Alcoléa A great battle gained Prim, And for this we go a-singing In the streets of Madrid. Although Prim was not present, he was the liberator, and without him the battle would never have been fought, nor the joy of liberty have been sung in the streets of the capital.

An hour after the colonel received an order from the commandant of the place, revoking his leave of absence and ordering him to duty in Madrid. It is not very surprising that this officer was at the Bridge of Alcolea. At noon the day grew dark with clouds, and the black storm-wreath came down over the mountains.

Rey inocente a weak king, Reina traidora treacherous queen, Pueblo cobarde a coward people, Grandes sin honra nobles without honour, sums up and expresses in nine words the history of Goday's shameful bargain with Napoleon. En el Puente de Alcoléa La batalla ganó Prim, Y por eso la cantámos En las calles de Madrid.

He fought, however, for Isabel II. at Alcoléa, which was at any rate acting more decently than did Montpensier, who had furnished large sums of money to promote the rising against his confiding sister-in-law, and, in fact, never ceased his machinations against every person and every thing that stood in his way, until death fortunately removed him from the arena of Spanish politics, his one overmastering ambition unfulfilled.