s steep hill surrounded by mountains; a high stone
bridge, spanning a green valley and the rushing river, joined the city
to a mountain plateau; to-day the mediaeval bridge has been replaced by
an iron one, which contrasts harshly with the somnolent aspect of the
landscape.

Never was a city founded in a more picturesque spot. It almost resembles
Goeschenen in Switzerland, with the difference that whereas in the last
named village a white-washed church rears its spire skyward, in Cuenca a
large cathedral, rich in decorative accessories, and yet sombre and
severe in its wealth, occupies the most prominent place in the town.

Of the origin of the city nothing is known. In the tenth and the
eleventh centuries Conca was an impregnable Arab fortress. In 1176 the
united armies of Castile and Aragon, commanded by two sovereigns,
Alfonso VIII. of Castile and Alfonso II. of Aragon, laid siege to the
fortress, and after nine months' patience, the Alcazar surrendered.
According to the popular tradition, it was won by treachery: one Martin
Alhaxa, a captive and a shepherd by trade, introduced the Christians
disguised with sheepskins into the city through a postern gate.

As the conquest of Cuenca had cost the King of Castile such trouble (his
Aragonese partner had not waited to see the end of the siege), and as he
was fully conscious of its importance as a strategical outpost against
Aragon to the north and against the Moors to the south and east, he laid
special stress on the city's being strongly fortified; he also gave
special privileges to such Christians as would repopulate, or rather
populate, the nascent town. A few years later Pone Lucio III. raised the
church to an episcopal see, appointing Juan Yanez, a Tolesian Muzarab,
to be its first bishop (1183).

Unlike Sigueenza, a feudal possession of the bishop, Cuenca belonged
exclusively to the monarch of Castile; the castle was consequently held
in the sovereign's name by a governor,--at one time there were even four
who governed simultaneously. Between these governors and the inhabitants
of the city, fights were numerous, especially during the first half of
the fifteenth century, the darkest and most ignoble period of Castilian
history.

The story is told of one Dona Inez de Barrientos, granddaughter of a
bishop on her mother's side, and of a governor on that of her father. It
appears that her husband had been murdered by some of the wealthiest
citizens of the town. Feig