Some distance from Córdoba, there was an ancient town built on the side of a hill at the top of which was a Moorish castle that had played an important role in the wars against the Arabs. This frontier town was Baena. At the end of the 18th Century, in the quarter known as Almedina in the upper part of town, there was a great old house which had belonged to one of the nobles who had abandoned it after the end of the wars against the Moors. The House of Clavijo, as it was called, was now occupied by a rich, though avaricious, gentleman, Don Juan Pedro Beltrán who locked up his gold, jewellery and treasures in chests. He lived there with two servants, a young woman called Guadalupe and a trustworthy old servant who had been there for many years. One evening, a young man appeared, hidden beneath a cloak, and approached not the door but one of the lower, barred windows. At this moment it was raining but no-one thought it strange that he should be standing there because that was how lovers behaved in Andalucia in those days – the man talking from the street and the woman from the window. After a short while, a window was opened and Guadalupe greeted her young man whose name was Jiménez. The lovers chatted for a while, undisturbed by anyone. Few passed this way because many of the houses were still in ruins. It was getting late and Guadalupe, before going to bed, said, “Don’t do any harm to him!” “That’s up to me,” replied Jiménez. “And when will we be married?” she interrupted. Jiménez assured it would be soon. She begged him to promise so he replied that he could not leave her behind. The lovers parted and the cloaked man disappeared into the darkness of the night. The wind grew stronger and the rain fell more heavily. All grew quiet. At dusk the following day, after saying the evening prayers with his servants, Don Beltrán prepared to go to church. Before he left, he told his old servant that, as it was a feast day, he could visit his family that evening. Guadalupe looked after the house while they were out and being alone she made sure the doors were closed and bolted. The clock of the parish church chimed 10 o’clock and the bells rang out to call the parishioners to worship. Don Beltrán, obeying the summons, descended into town by way of Arco de la Villa. Baena was surrounded by fortified walls with more than 50 towers broken only by some archways. Once these entrances were closed, the upper town was converted into an impregnable fortress. It was one of these archways which gave access to the lower streets that Don Beltrán used to return to his house in Plaza de Clavijo later that night. It was raining and Don Beltrán was hidden underneath the hood of his cloak as he climbed the steps. This and the darkness of the night prevented him from seeing three masked men lurking there. As he approached the archway he heard a voice call out, “Don Juan Pedro Beltrán?” “Yes,” he replied, ”What do you want?” He had hardly uttered these words when the three leapt upon him, holding him and tying him up. In the struggle, Don Beltrán had managed to pull off the mask of one of the attackers and, recognising him, cried out, “Jiménez, don’t kill me!” A shout of fear was heard and the body of Don Beltrán tumbled down the steps. Shortly afterwards, the three men made their way to the house in Plaza de Clavijo, certain keys of which they had stolen from Don Beltrán. Guadalupe came out to receive them asking fearfully about her master. “We left him there,” said Jiménez and looking at his fellow thieves added, “take the keys and bring out everything in the chests.” When Guadalupe saw them hauling out gold, jewellery and treasure, she again begged her lover not to harm her master. She was going to run away with Jiménez but he thought otherwise. “It seems to me that you would rather stay with him! Perhaps I should leave you here.” She realised what he meant by those words and burst into tears for the trick he had played on her. He drew his dagger and hacked out the lock of one of the wardrobes forcing her inside. It was then that she noticed the blood spattered on his clothes and once again asked what had happened to Don Beltrán. “This!” he said as he stabbed her to death. Her cry of horror followed his word and then a deathly silence reigned over the whole house. The following morning, curious onlookers gathered in the square to gossip about the events. The old servants reported that as he returned from visiting his family, three masked men had run out of the house. He had been unable to recognise them in the darkness of the night and, although he had called out, no-one had come to help him in that lonely place. The parents of Don Beltrán placed a stone cross to mark where his death had occurred on the arms of which was inscribed, “Here Don Juan Pedro Beltrán was killed in 1782.”

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