The Puerta de la Justicia is the principal entrance to the Alhambra. It was built, as the inscription over the arch relates, by the Sultan Yusuf Abu-l-Hejaj, in 1348. Here justice was administered in Moorish days after the old patriarchal fashion. Above the arch is carved an open hand, the signification of which is a matter of controversy. The most probable explanation is that it is a religious symbol, the five fingers typifying Faith in God and the Prophet, and the commandments, to pray, to fast, to give alms, and to make the pilgrimage to Mecca. The inner arch is beautifully decorated with arabesques, and with the symbol of the key. The entrance is continued through another gate, with winding passages contrived so as to embarrass an enemy. The arch which gives egress from the tower shows some fine enamelling and festoons.
Just outside this gate is the Pilar de Carlos V., a fountain in the Greco-Roman style, erected by the Alcaide Mendoza in 1545. It is ornamented with the Imperial arms, and sculpturedheads of the river gods, Genil, Darro, and Beiro.
The double Torre de los Siete Suelos flanks a gateway, now walled up, which was formerly the principal entrance to the fortress. Through it the unfortunate Boabdil is said to have passed on his way to exile and obscurity. The tower is so called because it is believed to descend seven storeys underground. Four subterranean chambers have been investigated. Here tradition places the site of much buried treasure, and fables are told of phantom guards and enchanted sentries.
At the south-eastern angle of theenceinteis the ruinous Torre del Agua, which derives its name from the aqueduct that at this point spans the ravine. On the north-eastern side we reach the Torre de las Infantas, the interior of which is a perfect model of the smaller Oriental dwelling-house. Through a small vestibule we reach a covered-in patio with a fountain in the centre, and alcoves opening out on three sides. The ornamentation is graceful and original. The tower is one of the most interesting parts of the fortress. Somewhat less complete and regular in its plan, but even more elegantly decorated with rose-coloured tiles, is the adjoining Torre de la Cautiva (Captive’s Tower). Here the inscriptions resound the praises of Abu-l-Hejajand refer to theLionresiding within these walls—a very different occupant from a captive!
The Torre de los Picos seems to have been so styled from the peaked battlements which crown it. It evidently underwent extensive remodelling about the time of the Spanish Reconquest, but some relics of the Nasrite rule remain in the shape of some beautifully moulded twin windows.
The Torre de Ismaïl, or de las Damas (Ladies’ Tower), was given by Mohammed V. to his son Ismaïl, and has a richly decorated belvedere and a hall very tastefully ornamented. The ruined tower of Puñales has some curious stucco decorations, differing from those found in other parts of the palace.
Between the Torres de los Picos and de las Damas is a littlemihrabor oratory built on the wall. At the Reconquest it was appropriated to the private use of one Astasio de Bracamonte. Though it has undergone deplorable “restorations,” thekiblahor easterly niche and other indications of the Muslim rite can still be made out. Strangely enough, the portal is guarded by two Moorish lions brought from the old Mint—the injunctions of the Mohammedan religion being thus ignored in its own temple!
The parish church of Santa Maria, erected in 1581, occupies the site of the Mosque of which Al Khattíb appears to speak, writing of the deedsof Mohammed III. (1302-1309). “And among his great actions, the greatest and most remarkable was the construction of the great Mosque or Aljama of the Alhambra, with all that it contained of elegance and decoration, mosaics, and cements; as well as lamps of pure silver and other great marvels. In front of the Mosque were the baths, erected with the money levied from the Christians in his dominions. With the receipts from these baths the Mosque and its ministers were maintained.” The modern church is of brick, and contains nothing of note, except a Visigothic inscription, referring to the construction of three temples, dedicated to St. Stephen, St. John, and St. Vincent, in the years 594 and 607.
The forlorn, roofless palace in the classical style, which seems so out of place amid these Oriental buildings, was begun by order of the Emperor Charles V. in 1538. It was never completed. The Flemish Cæsar’s intention seems to have been to establish a permanent residence here, whence he could contemplate the beauties of the Moorish palace. The building is a quadrangle of four façades, each seventeen metres high. The lower storey is of the Tuscan order, the upper, Ionic. Some of the marble portals are very fine. In the decoration appear allusions to the campaigns,on sea and land, directed by the Emperor, his motto,Plus oultre, and the emblem of the Golden Fleece.
The interior of the palace is occupied by an imposing circular court, with a gallery supported by thirty-two columns. The staircase is loftily designed, and altogether the palace, if it had been completed and built almost anywhere else, would have been a dignified memorial of Charles’s reign.
Acrossan ivy-draped ravine—a perfect study in green and red—the Palace of Recreations, the Generalife, overlooks the rugged walls of the Alhambra. The name is believed to have been derived from Jennatu-l’arif, “the garden of the architect.” The palace appears to have been built by a Moor called Omar, from whom it was purchased by the Sultan Abu-l-Walid. At the Reconquest it became the property of a renegade prince, Sidi Yahya, who adopted the name of Don Pedro de Granada, and whose descendants, the family of Campotejar, are to this day the actual owners.
The Generalife cannot be regarded as an important monument of Moorish architecture. Through the central court, which measures 48.70 by 12.80 metres, runs the conduit which irrigates the whole estate, and connects with the Acequia (or canal) de la Alhambra. The arcaded southern façade and the spacious hall adjoining have been altered in order to make a large vestibule. The arcade resembles that of the Court of the Fish-pond, and exhibits a poetical inscription declaringthat Abu-l-Walid restored the palace in the year 1319.
The halls of the Generalife are of little interest in themselves, and contain several portraits of doubtful authenticity. Those of Ferdinand and Isabel, of Juana la Loca and her husband, and of the fourth wife of Philip II., are the most important. Among the portraits of the Granada family is one supposed to be that of Ben Hud Al Mutawakil, the rival of Al Ahmar, and ancestor of Sidi Yahya. This seems to be the portrait which English travellers persist in mistaking for that of Boabdil.
But if the palace is in no way remarkable, the gardens are a veritable bower of beauty and delight. Water bubbles up everywhere and moistens the roots of myrtles, cedars, and tall cypresses, the finest trees in all Spain. The legend of the Abencerrage discovered in dalliance with a Sultana, beneath one of these cypresses, is absolutely destitute of any sort of foundation. The nature of the spot—so eminently fitted for love and lovers’ trysts—may have suggested the story. But the garden is ill-kept, and many of the magnificent trees have been cut down.
In the city of Granada itself the memorials of the Moorish domination are scanty and fastdisappearing. In the Zacatin, which was in old times the chief bazaar, is a building formerly styled the Casa del Gallo de Viento (Weathercock House), and now known by the commonplace designation of Casa del Carbon (Charcoal House), owing to its having been appropriated to the storage of that useful product. Tradition avers that the palace (for such the house at one time was) was built by Badis Ibn Habus, a governor of Granada, who ruled about 1070A.D., by whose direction a vane was made in the shape of a warrior, mounted and armed with shield and spear. In later years the building served as a corn exchange. The only notable features are the entrance with its horseshoe arch and twin-windows, and vestibule with dome and alcoves. Adjacent to the Casa del Carbon is the house of the Duque de Abrantes. Beneath it is said to be a subterranean passage communicating with the Alhambra—blocked up, oddly enough, by the present owner of the site, without any exploration or examination.
Entered from the Carrera de Darro is the once handsome Moorish bath house, now in the last stages of dilapidation and neglect. It is believed to date from the earliest period of Mohammedan rule. The arches are of the old horseshoe type, and the columns and capitals of a primitive order. An inscription beginning, “In the Name of God,the Merciful, the Compassionate ...” may still be made out.
The bath itself, the various chambers of repose and disrobing, the usual alhamies, can also be traced.
The old Moorish mint was demolished in 1643, and the famous Gate of Bivarrambla can no longer be described in any sense as a Mohammedan work.
The effacement of the Moorish character of Granada, as compared with its survival in Seville, serves to show how much more intense the religious and racial bias became in Spain during the two hundred and odd years that elapsed between the conquests of the two cities. The spirit in which St. Ferdinand, Alfonso el Sabio, and Pedro I. approached the works of their Mohammedan foes and subjects presented a very favourable contrast to that manifested by the Catholic sovereigns, Charles V. and Philip II.
Almostthe first act performed by a Spanish king on his entry into a conquered Mohammedan city was to convert the chief mosque (aljama) into a Christian church. This was also done at Granada, but the chapel of the Alhambra remained for some time the cathedral of the new See. The mosque in the city, afterwards elevated to that rank, is described by the Abbé Bertaut of Rouen (quoted by Valladar), writing in 1669, as “square, or rather longer than wide, without vaults, and the roof covered with tiles, which for the most part were not even joined. The whole was supported by a number of small stone columns, harmoniously arranged.” Jorquera says the mosque was composed of five low naves. Whether or not it was originally a Visigothic church, as some writers pretend, the temple probably dated from the earliest centuries of the Muslim occupation, and the tower which contained the mihrab was long famous as the Torre Turpiana.
The building, after serving the purposes of the Catholic rite for two centuries, disappeared between 1705 and 1759 to make room for thepresent sacristia (sacristy). As a cathedral, it had been superseded by the adjoining and existing edifice, dedicated on August 17, 1561.
Older by about a quarter of a century than the foundations of the cathedral is the Royal Chapel (Capilla Real), which is the most striking and interesting memorial of the Conquest of Granada. It was begun in 1505 as a mausoleum for the Catholic sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella, under the direction of the famous Enrique Egas, and completed in the year 1517—a year after the king’s death and thirteen years after the queen’s. The chapel is shaped like a Latin cross, and is one of the latest specimens of the Spanish Gothic style. It is a comparatively modest and simple building, contrasting strongly with the ornate and elaborate structures of the succeeding age. The decoration of the interior consists almost entirely in a frieze bearing a long inscription in gilt letters which reads: “This chapel was ordered to be built by the most Catholic Don Ferdinand and Doña Isabella,” &c. &c. There is a suggestion of Gothic influence in the magnificent railing or grille, partly of iron, partly gilt, which divides the nave from the transept, and was made in 1522 by Maestre Bartolome. The kneeling figures of the Catholic sovereigns are seen on either side of the high altar. These, says Ford, “are very remarkable, being exactrepresentations of their faces, forms, and costumes: behind Ferdinand is the victorious banner of Castile, while the absorbing policy for which both lived and died—the conquest of the Moor and the conversion of the infidel—are embodied beneath them in singular painted carvings; these have been attributed to Felipe Vigarny, and are certainly of the highest antiquarian interest. In that which illustrates the surrender of the Alhambra, Isabel is represented riding on a white palfrey between Ferdinand and the great Cardinal Mendoza, who sits on his trapped mule, like Wolsey. He alone wears gloves; his pinched aquiline face contrasts with the chubbiness of the king and queen. He opens his hand to receive the key, which the dismounted Boabdil presents, holding it by the wards. Behind are ladies, knights, and halberdiers, while captives come out of the gates in pairs. Few things of the kind in Spain are more interesting. The other basso-relievo records the ‘Conversion of the Infidel’; in it the reluctant flock is represented as undergoing the ceremony of wholesale baptism, the principal actors being shorn monks. The mufflers and leg-wrappers of the women—the Romanfasciæ—are precisely those still worn at Tetuan by their descendants.”
These reliefs are unquestionably more vigorous and artistic, and also more in harmony with the structure generally, than the gorgeous Renaissance cenotaphs of Ferdinand and Isabella—most probably the work of the Spanish sculptor, Bartolome Ordoñez. The two great sovereigns are shown lying side by side, the faces expressing infinite dignity and repose. At each corner of the sepulchre is seated one of the four Doctors of the Church, below whom is a Sphinx. Medallions on two of the four sides represent respectively the Baptism and Resurrection of Jesus, and St. George and St. James. Beautifully done are the figures of the Twelve Apostles, the escutcheons, and, in fact, all the details of this grandiose but unimpressive monument.
The adjacent sepulchre of Ferdinand and Isabella’s daughter, the unhappy Queen Juana, and of her husband, Philip I., the Handsome, is inferior in design and execution. The heads of the recumbent figures are not faithful portraits. The reliefs represent the Nativity, the Adoration of the Magi, the Agony in the Garden, and the Entombment. In the niches are figures of the Cardinal Virtues (not conspicuous in Philip during life), and at the corners the statues of Saints Michael, George, Andrew, and John the Divine. Very beautiful are the figures of children, and much of the heraldic decoration. The whole is in the most florid style of the Renaissance, and was carved at Genoa by order of Juana’s son, Charles V.
Very different are the actual resting-places of the sovereigns so gorgeously commemorated in stone above. Descending to a narrow vault beneath the cenotaphs, we find five rude coffins, with iron bands. Herein repose the remains of Ferdinand and Isabella, of Juana and Philip, and of their son, Prince Juan. Ferdinand’s coffin may be identified by the letter F. “Here,” writes Pi Margall, “lie together in the dim light fathers and sons, monarchs of three dynasties united in less than a century for the greater glory of the fatherland; here lie the last princes of the Mediæval Age, and those who at its close inaugurated the Modern Era. Here they lie—heroes and fathers of heroes—kings who never retreated before the face of danger, and queens whose lives were consumed in the fire of profound love; fortunate ones who, returning from the battle, found rest and refreshment in the arms of their beloved; and unhappy souls who drained the cup of suffering, without finding in the dregs even that lethargy which the excess of grief procures for some. Who can enter this murky precinct without feeling his heart swayed by contrary emotions—without inclining with reverence before the lead which covers the men who rescued the nations from the anarchy of feudalism? While a tear may drop on the bier of that great princess [Isabella], who can restrain his pity forthat unhappy queen [Juana] who, intoxicated with love, passed the night waiting for the dawn to break that she might go forth, alone, to the ends of the world, in search of her adored husband, and would not leave his coffin till the tomb had closed upon it?”
We leave these great and unhappy ones of a bygone age, passing away to nothingness in their last dark palace, and ascend to the chapel. There is not much more to see. In the sacristy are preserved the crown and sceptre of the Catholic queen, the sword of Ferdinand, and some rich Gothic vestments. Over an altar on the south side is aDescent from the Cross, of which Ford speaks highly. The Chapel Royal communicates with the cathedral by a noble portal in the Late Gothic style. The pillars on each side are adorned by the statues of kings-at-arms. Above the entrance an eagle upholds the Arms of Spain. Heraldic devices, religious emblems, and reliefs of saints and cherubim are mingled in the decoration, which is beautiful and not over-elaborate.
The Chapel Royal, though architecturally forming part of the cathedral building, has an entirely independent ecclesiastical organisation of its own, with its own chapter and clergy. Amusing instances are recorded of the bad blood existing between the cathedral canons and the royal chaplains. This enmity (says Valladar)was carried so far that once, when the Archbishop Carrillo de Alderete wished to visit the chapel, attended by his canons, the chaplains refused to admit them. The archbishop accordingly caused the disobliging priests to be arrested, whereupon a long lawsuit ensued. The chaplains had the right of passage across the cathedral transept to the Puerta del Perdon, which is the official or state entrance to the royal mausoleum—a privilege which seems to have galled the canons to the quick. Strange that such ludicrous bickerings should have arisen out of a foundation which commemorates the grandest and most epoch-making events in the national history. Truly from the sublime to the ridiculous there is but one step.
The Cathedral of Granada was built adjoining and connecting with the Chapel Royal and sacristy or old mosque, between the years 1523 and 1561. Charles V. preferred the Gothic style, but at last consented to the adoption of the designs of Diego de Siloe. The church is described by Ford as one of the finest examples of the Græco-Roman style, but the plan is distinctly Gothic, nor can the edifice be said to deserve the description, “the most magnificent temple in Europe after the Vatican.” It is impressive in its severityand vastness, and may be described as dignified rather than beautiful.
The façade, said to have been designed by Alonso Cano, is flanked by towers (one unfinished) and divided by four huge stone columns which support a cornice. On this rest four pillars, sustaining three deep, gloomy vaultings. At the foot of these pillars, on the cornice, are statues of the Apostles. The principal door is adorned with a high relief of the Incarnation by Risueño, the side-doors with reliefs of the Annunciation and Assumption. The tower on the left rises seventy-five metres above the level of the present floor; its three stages are in the three styles of Grecian architecture respectively.
The walls of the Cathedral are, to a great extent, hidden, as is so often the case on the Continent, by adjoining buildings. The Puerta del Perdon, which, as we have said, officially belongs to the Chapel Royal, is Diego de Siloe’s masterpiece, and is elaborately sculptured. Over the arch two allegorical figures uphold a tablet on which is inscribed a dedication to the Catholic monarchs. The great flanking columns of the portal are decorated with huge escutcheons. The introduction of heraldic symbols into religious architecture is nowhere more conspicuous than at Granada.
The interior of the church, which is paved withblack and white marble, is composed of five naves with a cross-vaulting in the Gothic style, supported by five piers, each of which is composed of four Corinthian pillars. Above the high altar at the east end of the structure rises a noble dome, 220 ft. high, resting on eight pillars, and opening with a bold main arch, 190 ft. high. The expansion of the Capilla Mayor (principal chapel) at this point into the segment of a circle is a clever feat of architecture. Lafuente says, “The daring of the main arch is admirable, the way it is contrived creating a wonderful effect: looking at it from the elliptical arches it appears to be extended and on the point of falling away through having sunk below its level.”
The Capilla Mayor is a handsome, profusely ornamented fabric, supported on twenty-two Corinthian columns in two courses. Between the lower columns are the elliptical arches referred to, and on the upper course are the seven beautiful paintings of scenes from the Blessed Virgin’s life, by Alonso Cano. Between the courses are interesting paintings by Juan de Sevilla and Bocanegra. Much of the statuary is good, and the Flemish stained glass in the fourteen windows is beautifully rich in colour and well executed. The high altar itself, the work of José de Bada, is in a depraved style; but itsbadness is redeemed by the two kneeling statues of Ferdinand and Isabella on either side by Mena and Madrano, and by the bold, great heads of Adam and Eve, above the pulpits, carved and painted by Alonso Cano.
In the centre of the middle nave, separated from the Capilla Mayor by the transept, is the choir, in that debased Churrigueresque style of which every one speaks ill. The only things notable within it are the fine organs, and the crucifix by Pablo de Rojas. Beneath the choir is entombed Alonso Cano (died 1667), one of the greatest of Andalusian painters, and a minor canon of the Cathedral.
One of his most characteristic pictures—theVirgén de la Soledad—is to be seen over the altar of the Capilla de San Miguel (the first chapel on the right on entering the church). It was stolen in 1873, and recovered in the city shortly after. The chapel is beautifully adorned with red marbles and serpentine. It was built by that high-minded, beneficent prelate, Archbishop Moscoso, in 1804. His tomb is by the sculptor Folch. In the chapel are placed—we do not know why—two elegant Chinese vases.
Between this and the next chapel is the entrance to the sacristy or old mosque, and to the left of it a small picture, before which that really saintly saint, St. John of God, was accustomedto pray. The Capilla de la Trinidad has some good paintings, among them aTrinityby Cano, two miniatures on copper by the same artist, aDeath of St. Josephby Maratta, and copies of works by Raphael and Ribera. There are genuine Riberas (The Child Jesus,St. Laurence, andSt. Mary Magdalene) and more works by Cano in the extravagant eighteenth-century chapel of Jesus Nazareno. After this comes the handsome Gothic door of the Chapel Royal, by Enrique Egas; and beyond that the Chapel of Santiago, with a fine equestrian statue of the Patron Saint of Spain, presented to the Cathedral by the City in 1640. The old painting of the Virgen del Perdon was given to Isabella the Catholic by Innocent VIII., and used to be carried about by the queen. It is publicly venerated (not worshipped or adored, please note) on the anniversary of the Reconquest, January 2.
Passing the Cathedral sacristy with its handsome door by Siloe, we pause before the Puerta del Colegio. Behind the sculptured Ecce Homo, it is said Maeda carved a Lucifer of extraordinary beauty. He applied to Siloe for permission to give a proof of his skill, and was told by the testy architect to sculpture the Devil himself if he wanted to. Maeda was wag enough to take him at his word.
The chapel of Santa Ana covers the vault intended for the archbishops, and contains a good sixteenth-century altar-piece, and a St. Jean de Matha (a Frenchman, not a Spaniard) by Bocanegra. The six chapels that follow present no features of interest. The fourth chapel on the left side of the Cathedral is named La Virgen de la Antigua, after a Gothic image greatly venerated by Ferdinand the Catholic, and regarded with great reverence by the devout of Granada. Here are two portraits by Juan de Sevilla of Ferdinand and Isabella at prayer; the king is clad in armour. The paintings are in the Venetian style. Of the retablo by Cornejo, the less said the better. Cano’s realistic heads of Saints John and Paul reflect the fondness of the pietists of his day for the morbid—they are in the Chapel of the Virgen del Carmen. The first chapel, or baptistry, was erected by Adam and Aguado, at the expense of Archbishop Galvan, who is buried here near another occupant of the episcopal throne, Don Bienvenido Monzón. The fine reliefs of Saints Jerome and Isidore are by Mora. We have now reached the entrance doors, on each side of which hangs a good painting. The three pictures over the doors represent mystic allegories.
The most interesting feature of the chapter room, or Sala Capitular, is the noble porch, with its figures of Justice and Prudence, which,with the group of the Trinity, may be safely attributed to Maeda.
Before leaving the Cathedral, the sacristy should be visited. It contains Cano’sAssumptionand two small statues by him; aCrucifixby Montañez; aHoly Family, by Juan de Sevilla; and aMary Immaculateby Bocanegra. The treasury contains some wonderfully embroidered vestments, and good, but not extraordinary, examples of the silversmith’s craft. The signet ring of Sixtus III., and the monstrance presented by Isabella, have of course, an historical interest.
A casket is also shown to visitors, who are assured it is that in which were placed the jewels pawned by Isabella to provide funds for Columbus’s first voyage. If this is true, Pandora’s box was as nothing compared to this one! The Queen’s Missal, the work of Francisco Flores, is beautifully illuminated. It is placed on the high altar on the anniversary of the Reconquest. Those interested in arms will handle with curiosity the sword of Ferdinand the Catholic; the hilt has a spherical pommel and drooping quillons with branches towards the blade, which is grooved for about two-thirds of its length. Other relics of the Catholic sovereigns are their sceptre, Isabella’s crown, the royal standards used at the Reconquest, and a chasuble said to have been embroidered by the Queen.
By the door next to the Capilla de San Miguel we pass into the Sagrario (sacristy) occupying the site of the old mosque, which it replaced in 1705. It was designed by Don Francisco Hurtado and Jose de Bada, and it is well that the responsibility for so meretricious a piece of architecture should be divided. It may be dismissed as Churrigueresque. It is not, fortunately, devoid of interest. In one of the chapels is buried “the magnificent cavalier, Fernando del Pulgar, Lord of El Salar,” as the inscription records. This valiant knight and true, during the last campaign against Granada, rode into the city with fifteen horsemen, and set a lighted taper on the floor of the mosque, and, as others say, nailed a paper bearing the Ave Maria on the door. This exploit earned for him and his descendants the extremely valuable privilege of wearing their hats in the Cathedral. De Pulgar’s bones have fared better than those of the good Archbishop de Talavera, which were scattered when the old mosque was demolished. The Sagrario possesses several good paintings, including a San José by Cano, of whose works the Cathedral buildings, as may have been noticed, contain a fine selection. By the door next to the Capilla de Pulgar, and a darkish passage, the Chapel Royal may be entered.
The oldest purely Christian building in Granada is the convent and chapel of San Jeronimo, afoundation transferred here from Santa Fé immediately after the Reconquest. The convent is now a cavalry barracks, and is not to be inspected by the curious. The church, built by Diego de Siloe, is in the form of a Latin cross—stern, plain, dignified. The walls are adorned with frescoes representing scenes from the Passion, portraits of the Fathers of the Church, and angels playing on the harp and singing. They were executed in 1723 by an obscure painter called Juan de Medina. Eight chapels open on the aisles and nave, one containing a fine retablo, with the Entombment as subject. The principal chapel exhibits Siloe’s skill at its best. He is said to have realised in its construction “his lofty ideal of effecting a truly Spanish Renaissance; an ideal which bore little fruit, since some of his followers confined themselves to the strictest classicism, others to the development of the plateresque.” Very much in the spirit of the Renaissance is the decoration of the chapel with the statues of the worthies of the classic world, Cæsar, Pompey, Hannibal, Homer, and others, side by side with Old Testament characters. Strange, this admiration for a pagan civilisation co-existent with violent religious fanaticism against all contemporary non-Catholics!
The whole church was practically dedicated to the memory of Spain’s greatest soldier, the GreatCaptain, Gonzalo de Cordova, who was buried here, but whose ashes have been transferred to Madrid. The hero and his duchess are shown, sculptured, kneeling in prayer on either side of the high altar, over which rises a magnificent retablo, divided into several compartments filled with reliefs and statues. The horizontal sections are in the Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and composite Orders respectively. The lowest central compartment is occupied by the Tabernacle, the subjects of the three compartments immediately above being the Immaculate Conception, St. Jerome, and the Crucifixion. Over all is shown the figure of the Eternal Father. This splendid work, the best of its kind in Spain, seems to have been executed by a variety of artists, among them Juan de Aragon, Pedro de Orea, and Pedro de Raxis. The beautiful shell-like vaulting above is adorned with figures of the Apostles, of Saints Barbara, Katharine, Magdalen, and Lucy, and the warrior-saints, George, Eustace, Martin, Sebastian, and Francis. The sword given by the Pope to the Great Captain, formerly one of the treasures of the chapel, was carried off by Sebastiani during the Peninsular War.
There are a great many beautiful things in this old church which seem to escape the ordinary traveller’s notice. The seats in the choir were designed by Siloe. The frescoes, representing theTriumph of the Church, of the Virgin, and of the Eucharist, the Assumption, &c., are very well done. The restoration of the fabric has often been denounced, but it is difficult to see how it could have been better carried out.
In the neighbourhood of the Great Captain’s chapel is a monument to a hero and a great Spaniard of a very different type. Juan de Robles devoted himself to the sick and the suffering with a zeal which earned for him confinement in a madman’s cage. His virtues were recognised after his death, and procured him canonisation as St. John of God in 1669. A tribute to his memory which he would have no doubt appreciated better is the large hospital founded two years after his death, that is, in 1552. The saint’s ashes, in a silver coffin, repose in the hospital chapel, a gorgeous structure, characterised by costliness and bad taste. The trail of the serpent of Spanish architecture—Churriguera—is over all. All that is interesting in it is the portrait of the saint, a copy of one in Madrid.
The name of the Great Captain is associated with the Cartuja, or suppressed Carthusian monastery, the site of which was his gift. The monastery, begun in 1516, was pulled down in 1842. A small portion of the buildings, however, remains, together with the church. The single nave is disfigured by over-elaborate ornamentationin the plateresque style. The doors of the choir are richly and tastefully inlaid with ebony and mother of pearl, cedar and tortoise-shell, and were the work of a friar, Manuel Vazquez, who died in 1765. The sanctuary, in the baroque style, is enriched with precious marbles, some richly veined with agates. On some of the slabs the hand of Nature has traced the semblances of human and animal forms. In the adjoining sacristy, various marbles have been combined so as to produce an effect dazzling and gorgeous in the extreme. The hall is certainly one of the most remarkable in Spain. Scarcely less marvellous are the exquisitely inlaid doors and presses. The generally bad style of the church is also redeemed by a statue of St. Bruno, the founder of the Carthusian Order, ascribed to Alonso Cano, and some pictures by Bocanegra, Giaquinto, and Cotán. The last named, a friar, was responsible for the pictures in the cloister, representing the martyrdom of Carthusian monks in London by the tyrant Henry VIII. and the brigands who acted as his officers.
The Cartuja was formerly much richer in works of art, but, like San Jeronimo, it was ransacked by the French under Sebastiani, who exhibited, as on all occasions, the discrimination of a dilettante coupled with the rapacity of a bandit.
In front of the church of Santos Pedro y Pablo is a very handsome mansion built in 1539 for Hernando de Zafra, secretary of the Catholic sovereigns. The portal is in three stages: the first contains the entrance, a square doorway, between Doric columns; the second bears the escutcheons of the family, above them being sculptured griffins and lions; the third, a balcony between pilasters, carved in delicate relief. In a line with this is another balcony, bearing the curious inscription,Esperandola del Cielo—“Looking for it from Heaven.” These words are explained by a tragic legend. De Zafra is said to have suspected his daughter of a clandestine attachment. To satisfy his doubts, he burst into her room one day, and found her page assisting the lover to escape by the window. Baulked of his prey, the father turned, with death in his face, upon the boy. “Mercy!” shrieked the page. “Look for it in Heaven!” answered the Don, as he hurled his daughter’s accomplice from the balcony into the street below. So runs the legend. De Zafra does not appear, according to the records, to have left any children; but his daughter may not have survived the terrible consequences of her amour. “After all,” remarks Valladar, “nothing was easier in the sixteenth century than to throw a page out of thewindow without attracting the attention of the police or magistrates.”
Granada is by no means as rich in ancient churches and houses as Seville. The house of the Great Captain now forms part of the convent of Carmelite nuns. On the façade a tablet sets forth that “In this house lived, and on December 2, 1515, died, the Great Captain Don Gonzalo Fernandez de Aguilar y de Cordoba, Duke of Sessa, Terranova, and Santangelo, the Christian hero, and conqueror of the Moors, French, and Turks.”
The early sixteenth-century Casa de los Tiros—the property, like the Generalife, of the Marques de Campotejar—seems to occupy the site, if it did not actually form part, of a Moorish fortified dwelling. Some think it was an advanced work of the fortifications known as the Torres Bermejas. The interior certainly shows Arabic influence. The staircase was probably built by Moors, and there are rich azulejos and a splendidartesanadohall. This is adorned with busts of various Spanish celebrities, with the graven heads of Moors and Christians, and with reliefs of Lucretia, Judith, Semiramis, and Penthesilea.
In this house is preserved an Arabic sword with a magnificent hilt and scabbard, said to have belonged to Boabdil. The scabbard, at all events, is unquestionably of workmanshipposterior to the Reconquest; and it is well to be a little on one’s guard in the matter of the numerous relics ascribed to the last Moorish king.
Of old Granada, in truth, not much more remains than the buildings we have already named. We may glance at the tower of San Juan de los Reyes, so badly restored that its peculiar Moorish architecture, more markedly Eastern than that of any other Grenadine monument, has been almost entirely effaced. And in the old Casa de Ayuntamiento there are some historical curiosities, notably the original draft of the charter granted to Granada by the Catholic sovereigns, and the handsome official shield of the city. Many sites, such as the Plaza de Bibarrambla, commemorated in the songs and stories of old Spain, have been completely modernised. But there is a monument—a simple column surmounted by an iron cross—more deeply interesting than any reared by the Moors. The inscription on the pedestal records that on this spot, on May 26, 1831, Doña Mariana Pineda was publicly garroted at the age of thirty-two years. She died a martyr for liberty and a victim of the strange absolutist frenzy which did much to ruin Spain in Ferdinand VII.’s reign. Doña Mariana’s house had been a centre for liberal gatherings, and when raided by the policewas found to contain a tricolour flag. She met her death with a courage worthy of her cause. Five years later, when the nation had recovered its sanity, her ashes were carried in state to the Ayuntamiento. The magistrate who had condemned her was in his turn executed. On the same site many Spanish patriots were shot by the French—their labour and their lives being given to replace Ferdinand VII. on the throne. The square, formerly called the Campillo, is now named after Mariana Pineda. You may see there her statue in marble, sculptured by Marna and Morales.
The hill called the Sacro Monte is a curious memorial of human credulity. In 1594 one Francisco Hernandez reported to the Archbishop Don Pedro Vaca de Castro that he had discovered the relics of several local martyrs in the caves here. A church of no architectural merit was raised on the spot, and became a place of pilgrimage—the evidence that the martyrs referred to had ever existed being meanwhile wanting. Within the church are preserved some leaden books, inscribed in Arabic characters, and supposed to contain the acts, of the saints. These works were the subject of a furious controversy in the seventeenth century. The caves are interesting on account of their natural peculiarities, and were quite probably catacombs used bythe early Christians of Illiberis. Some rocks may be noticed, in parts worn away by the repeated kisses of devotees. There is a superstition that the person who kisses the stone the first time will marry within the year, and that a second kiss will ensure to those already married an early dissolution of the conjugal tie.
On the opposite side of the city, also in the outskirts, is a little Mohammedan oratory, now disfigured and restored beyond recognition. It is called the Ermita de San Sebastian, and was the place where Boabdil gave up the keys of Granada to Ferdinand and Isabel.
When we walk through the streets of the modern Granada, with its tawdry churches and commonplace private houses, it does not seem that the city has gained much by its change of masters. But its decline was not at least very marked till many years after the Reconquest. The French invasion, and still more the ruin of the silk industry, completely undermined the prosperity of the place. During the last century it lost its rank as the seat of a Captain General. But a new day is dawning for the proudest city of the Moor, as for all Spain. Granada is content no longer to brood over its splendid past; indeed, its citizens seem to prize but lightly the monuments of those days. There is a general appearance of wealth and elegance about the promenaderson the broad, well-lighted paseos; and, thanks to the newly introduced manufacturing industry of beetroot sugar, the Vega has already resumed the flourishing smiling aspect it wore when a Mohammedan amir called it his and the cry of the muezzin was heard from a hundred minarets.
REFERENCE TO PLAN OF GRANADABUILDINGS AND PLACES