The monastery of Miraflores, a rich and prosperous establishment before the suppression of religious communities in Spain, is now quite deserted, but of considerable interest as containing the famous tomb of Juan II. and Isabella of Portugal. The old Gothic chapel has, in the singularly elaborate and minutely sculptured sarcophagus standing before the altar, a grand example of delicate and artistic workmanship in alabaster. The two representative figures are raised about six feet above the floor of the chapel, on a pedestal of the same substance,--pure white alabaster,--the whole being ornamented with figures of saints, angels, birds, fruits, and graceful vines. The supports of the corners of the octagon base are sixteen lions, two at each angle, all executed with infinite perfection of detail. The remarkable imitation of embroidered lace upon the reclining figures, with the indented cushions and robes, are admirable. We were glad to learn the sculptor's name, Gil de Siloe. Sad and solemn was the atmosphere surrounding the old monastery, now in charge of two or three aged brothers of the Carthusian order, who pointed out, as we passed into the open air, among the rank weeds, shaded by sombre cypresses, the graves of some four hundred of their departed brothers, whose bodies lay there without a stone or name to mark their last resting-place. Thus these men had lived humble and forgotten, and so they sleep, "after life's fitful fever," among the weeds.
From this interesting spot we drove to the convent known as Las Huelgas, founded by the wife of Alonzo VIII., daughter of Henry II., and sister of Richard Coeur de Lion. This large establishment, situated on the other side of the Arlanzon, and nearer to the city than Miraflores, is reached by a pleasant avenue of trees, and is surrounded by well-laid out gardens. Though it is a nunnery, and has its body of completely isolated, self-immolated nuns, still there is not the dead and forgotten aspect about it which so characterized the old monastery we had just left. To gain entrance here, the devotee must bring with her a dowry, and also be born of noble blood. It was within these walls that Eugénie, after losing husband and son, at first contemplated a lasting seclusion; but she was not quite prepared, it seems, to give up the allurements of the outside world. The church attached to the convent is of more than ordinary interest, and contains some relics highly prized by the devout and credulous. The visitor, on being shown about the church, will be likely to observe an image of Christ in a petticoat, which is rather a caricature. The sacristan stopped us before a small grated opening, exhibiting the altar of the nunnery, where one of the devotees, in her nun's dress, was to be seen kneeling before the shrine, apparently engaged in prayer. Presently the kneeling figure rose slowly to her feet, walked across the dimly-lighted chapel, and disappeared. The exhibition was so timely, and the visitors to the church were brought to the spot in such a business-like fashion, to say nothing of the pose and manner of the nun, that one could not but feel that the little tableau was gotten up for the special effect it might have upon strangers.