Chapter I: Part 1

THE SPANISH SERIES

SEVILLE

THE SPANISH SERIES

Edited by ALBERT F. CALVERT

MURILLO
SPANISH ARMS AND ARMOUR
THE ESCORIAL
CORDOVA
SEVILLE
THE PRADO

_In Preparation_

GOYA
GRANADA AND ALHAMBRA
VELAZQUEZ
TOLEDO
ROYAL PALACES OF SPAIN
MADRID
LEON, BURGOS AND SALAMANCA
VALLADOLID, OVIEDO, SEGOVIA,
ZAMORA, AVILA & ZARAGOZA

SEVILLE

AN HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE
ACCOUNT OF
“THE PEARL OF ANDALUSIA”
BY ALBERT F. CALVERT
WITH 300 ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMVII

TURNBULL AND SPEARS. PRINTERS, EDINBURGH

PREFACE

There is a charm and compelling fascination about Seville which produces in the traveller visiting the city for the first time a sensation of physical ecstasy. The spell of the Pearl of Andalusia is instant and enduring; I have not met a man or woman proof against its witchery. George Borrow shed tears of rapture as he beheld Seville from the Cristina Promenade, and “listened to the thrush and the nightingale piping forth their melodious songs in the woods, and inhaled the breeze laden with the perfume of its thousand orange gardens.” The Moors left their beloved capital at the height of its prosperity, in the full flower of its beauty; change has not affected its material importance, and time has not staled its infinite variety. A Christian Cathedral now stands on the foundation of the great mosque of Abu Yakub Yusuf; but the Moorish Giralda, the most expressive monument of the Mohammedan occupation, still beckons the distant traveller onwards to the promised land; the Alcazar breathes the spirit of its Oriental masters; and the shimmering Torre del Oro still reflects the light of the setting sun upon the broad bosom of the rose-coloured river.

The history of Seville from the time of its subjugation by Musa is a volume of romance; its pages are illumined by the cold light of flashing steel and stained with the blood of tyrants, traitors, and innocent men; but it forms a chronicle which the reader will follow with absorbing interest. The more exacting student will satisfy his thirst for knowledge in Dr Dozy’s “History of the Mohammedans of Spain,” in Gayangos’ translation of El Makkari’s “History of the Mohammedan Dynasties in Spain,” in Coppee’s “History of the Conquest of Spain,” and Pedro de Madrazo’s “Sevilla”--to refer to only a few of the many learned works that have been published on the subject. Many will continue to be content with the few pages of Notes which appear in the various Spanish Guides; but a certain section, it is hoped, of the English travelling public, will find in this book an album, a handbook, and a history which will supply a long-felt want.

In my attempt to produce a volume which will appeal both to the artist and the tourist, to the archæologist as well as the least imaginative sightseer, I have reproduced a number of illustrations which may incline some persons to accuse me of a superabundant regard for detail. It is true that many pages are devoted to intricacies of decoration which the general reader may find of small interest, but my object in multiplying this detail is to satisfy the requirements of those who would fathom the mystery of Moslem art. When I was first in Granada I inquired for pictures of the minutiæ of many choice examples of design, and, failing to obtain anything of the kind, I had to employ a local artist to make sketches of the detail of the mosaics. That experience determined me, in treating of these Mohammedan cities of Spain, to include those reproductions for which I had searched in vain, and to make my illustrations, as far as possible, the last word on the subject of Arabian architecture and ornament.

For the historical portion of the letterpress I have laid under tribute the authorities already mentioned, and I have also to acknowledge the assistance received in the compilation from Mr E. B. d’Auvergne.

A large number of the photographs included here were supplied by Messrs Rafael Garzon and Senan & Gonzalez of Granada, Hauser & Menet of Madrid, Ernst Wasmuth of Berlin, publisher of Uhde’s “Baudenkmaeler in Spanien und Portugal,” and Eugen Twietmayer of Leipzig, publisher of Junghandel’s “Die Baukunst Spaniens,” and my thanks are due to them for the courteous permission to reproduce their work in this volume.

Some of the illustrations are reproductions of pictures which were at one time in the San Telmo Collection. As that collection has been distributed I have been unable to trace the originals, but as they were so closely identified with Seville I make no apology for including them.

A. F. C.

“ROYSTON,”

SWISS COTTAGE,

N.W.

CONTENTS

PAGE

SEVILLE 1

MOORISH SEVILLE 5

SEVILLE UNDER THE CASTILIAN KINGS 35

THE ALCAZAR 45

THE CATHEDRAL 69

OTHER BUILDINGS OF THE FIFTEENTH AND SIXTEENTH CENTURIES 89

BUILDINGS OF THE SEVENTEENTH AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES 101

THE PAINTERS OF SEVILLE 107

THE OLD ROMAN CITY 135

ILLUSTRATIONS

TITLE PLATE

General view of Seville from the Giralda Tower, West side of the City. First view 1

General view of Seville from the Giralda Tower, West side of the City. Second view 2

General view of Seville from the Giralda Tower, East side 3

General view of Seville from the Giralda Tower, Central part of the City 4

General view of Seville from the Giralda Tower, North side 5

Procession of the Conception of the Virgin passing through the Plaza de San Francisco 6

View of Seville 7

View of Seville 8

View of Seville 9

View of Seville 10

View of Seville 11

View of Seville 12

View of Seville 13

View of Seville 14

Bridge over the Guadalquivir 15

Hercules Avenue 16

The Plaza Nueva 17

View of Triana from the Tower of Gold 18

View of Seville from Triana 19

View of Seville from Triana 20

The Tower of Gold from San Telmo 21

A street in Seville 22

The Tower of Gold 23

Church of San Marcos, from the Palace of the Dueñas 24

Church of San Marcos 25

Court of the Hotel de Madrid 26

Hospital, with the Mosaics painted by Murillo 27

Portal of the Convent of Santa Paula 28

Church of Santa Catalina 29

Church of Todos Santos 30

The Provincial Museum, with Murillo’s statue 31

Statue of Murillo 32

General view of the Town Hall 33

The Town Hall, left side 34

The Town Hall, left side, detail of the interior angle 35

Door of the Town Hall 36

The Town Hall, detail of the principal part 37

General view of the Town Hall 38

The Town Hall, detail of the façade 39

The Town Hall, detail of the principal door 40

Window in the Town Hall 41

Principal facade of the Tobacco Factory 42

The Tobacco Factory 43

Cigar makers, Seville 44

The “Sevillanas” Dance 45

Sevillian Costumes--A Courtyard 46

General view of the Exchange 47

Court in the Exchange 48

The Aceite Postern and ancient ramparts 49

The Roman walls near the gate of the Macarena 50

The Roman Amphitheatre of Italica 51

General view of the Palace of San Telmo from the River 52

Principal Portal of the San Telmo Palace 53

Interior of the Hall of Columns in the San Telmo Palace 54

Interior view of the Duke of Montpensier’s study in San Telmo 55

Various objects found in the sepulchres at San Telmo. (In the Palace of San Telmo) 56

Palms in the Gardens of San Telmo 57

The sepulchres of the victims of Don Juan Tenorio in the Gardens of San Telmo 58

The Roman Sepulchres in the Gardens of San Telmo 59

View in the Gardens of San Telmo 60

The Aviary in the Gardens of San Telmo 61

The River in the Gardens of San Telmo 62

The Cocoa Tree and east side of San Telmo 63

The Zapote, a tree in the Gardens of San Telmo 64

The Island and River in the Gardens of San Telmo 65

The Yucca, a rare tree in the Gardens of San Telmo 66

General view of the Hospital de la Sangre 67

Church of the Sagrario, north side 68

Principal façade of the Hospital de la Sangre 69

Porch of the Church of the Hospital de la Sangre 70

Bas-relief, Hospital de la Sangre, the work of Torregiano 71

General view of the exterior of the Cathedral 72

The Giralda, from the Patio de los Naranjos 73

The top of the Giralda 74

The Dancing Choir-boys, Seville Cathedral 75

Dancing-boys, Seville Cathedral 76

The Gate of the Archbishop 77

Plaza de San Francisco, with the Giralda and Cathedral 78

Plaza del Triunfo, the Cathedral, and the Exchange, from the Gate of the Lion 79

The Fête 80

Gate of San Miguel in the Cathedral 81

Gate of the Cathedral called de las Campanillas 82

Gate of the Baptist in the Cathedral 83

The Gate of the Lizard in the Cathedral 84

General view of the Cathedral from the Tribune of the principal door 85

Principal Sacristy in the Cathedral 86

Principal Entrance to the Cathedral 87

Interior view of the Principal Sacristy in the Cathedral 88

The Gamba Chapel 89

The Cathedral, the Gamba Chapel, and entrance to that of the Antigua 90

Chapels of the Conception and the Annunciation in the Cathedral 91

The Cathedral. The Chapel of the Conception 92

The Cathedral. Detail of the High Altar 93

The Cathedral. Retablo, or altar-piece of the High Altar 94

Iron railings of the lateral part of the High Altar 95

The Cathedral. Wrought-iron screen in the Choir 96

The Cathedral. Wrought-iron screen of the High Altar 97

St Christopher carrying the Child Jesus, by Mateo Perez Alesio, in the Cathedral 98

San Fernando Square 99

Gardens of the Alcazar 100

General view of the Gardens of the Alcazar 101

View of the Gardens of the Alcazar 102

General view of the Gardens of the Alcazar 103

The Gardens of the Alcazar. Lake and Gallery of Don Pedro I., the Cruel 104

The Gardens of the Alcazar. View of the Gallery of Don Pedro I., the Cruel 105

The Hothouses in the Gardens of the Alcazar 106

Calle de las Vedras in the Gardens of the Alcazar 107

The Gardens of the Alcazar. Parterre of Doña Maria de Padilla 108

The Alcazar. Baths of Doña Maria de Padilla 109

Magnificent altar in faience, painted in the fifteenth century. (In the Oratory of the Catholic Sovereigns in the Alcazar.) 110

Town Hall of Seville. Details of doors and balconies 111

Town Hall of Seville. Details 112

Parish Church of San Marcos 113

Various Towers of Seville 114

Details of the Mosaic commonly called El Grande 115

Sculpture and details of ancient churches 116

Architectural parts, bas-reliefs, and ceramic objects 117

Façade of the Consistorial houses 118

Entrance to the Alcazar, Seville 119

Principal Façade of the Alcazar 120

Gate of the principal entrance, Alcazar 121

Interior of the Hall of Ambassadors, Alcazar 122

Hall of Ambassadors, Alcazar 123

Interior of the Hall of Ambassadors, Alcazar 124

Interior of the Hall of Ambassadors, Alcazar 125

Hall of Ambassadors, Alcazar 126

Hall of Ambassadors, Alcazar 127

Hall of Ambassadors. Alcazar 128

Upper part of the Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 129

Court of the Dolls from the Room of the Prince, Alcazar 130

Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 131

Angle in the Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 132

Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 133

Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 134

Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 135

Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 136

Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 137

Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 138

Gallery on the second storey of the Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 139

Upper part of the Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 140

Upper part of the Court of the Dolls, Alcazar 141

Entrance to the Dormitory of the Moorish Kings, Alcazar 142

Dormitory of the Moorish Kings, Alcazar 143

Front of the sleeping-saloon of the Moorish Kings, Alcazar 144

Sleeping-saloon of the Moorish Kings, Alcazar 145

Intercolumniation, where Don Fadrique was assassinated, Alcazar 146

Sultana’s Quarters, Alcazar 146

Room in which King St Ferdinand died, Alcazar 147

Interior of the Hall of St Ferdinand, Alcazar 148

Front of the Hall of St Ferdinand, Alcazar 149

Gate of the Hall of St Ferdinand, Alcazar 150

Gallery of the Hall of St Ferdinand, Alcazar 151

Throne of Justice, Alcazar 152

Court of the Hundred Virgins, Alcazar 153

Court of the Virgins, Alcazar 154

General view of the Court of the Hundred Virgins, Alcazar 155

Court of the Virgins, Alcazar 156

Front of the Dormitory of the Moorish Kings and the Court of the Virgins, Alcazar 157

Gallery in the Court of the Virgins, Alcazar 158

The Court of the Virgins, Capital of the door of the Hall of Ambassadors, Alcazar 159

The Alcazar. Court of the Virgins. Capital of the gate of the Hall of Charles V. 160

Palace of the Dueñas, Door of the Chapel 161

Palace of the Dukes of Alcalá, commonly called Casa de Pilatos 162

The Court in the House of Pilate 163

Court of the House of Pilate 164

Gallery in the Court of the House of Pilate 165

House of Pilate 166

Gallery in the Court of the House of Pilate 167

Angle and statue in the House of Pilate 168

House of Pilate. Entrance to the ante-room of the Chapel 169

The staircase in the House of Pilate, by Barrera 170

House of Pilate. Entrance door of the Oratory 171

House of Pilate. Way out to the flat roofs in the High Gallery 172

Staircase in the House of Pilate 173

House of Pilate. Doors of the officers in the High Gallery 174

House of Pilate. Window of the Prætor’s Hall leading to the Garden 175

House of Pilate. Barred window in the Prætor’s Garden 176

House of Pilate. Bolt on the Prætor’s Gate 177

House of Pilate. Window in the Ante-room of the Chapel 178

House of Pilate. Section of the ceiling in the Prætor’s Hall 179

Palace of the Dueñas in Seville 180

House of Pilate. Mosaics in the Hall of the Fountain 181

Palace of the Dueñas in Seville. Glazed tiles in the socles of the Chapel and arches 182

Mosaic of the Peristyle in the Palace 183

House of Pilate. Mosaic in the Hall of the Fountain 184

Mosaic in the Court of the House of Pilate 185

Mosaic in the Court of the House of Pilate 186

Mosaic in the Court of the House of Pilate 187

House of Pilate. Mosaic in the Chapel 188

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo. Born in Seville, 1617 189

Altar-screen of the La Gamba, by Luis de Vargas. Seville Cathedral 190

“Descent from the Cross,” by Pedro Campaña, Seville Cathedral 191

“St Anthony of Padua visited by the Infant Saviour while kneeling at his prayers,” by Murillo. Seville Cathedral 192

“Our Lord baptized by St John Baptist,” by Murillo. Seville Cathedral 193

“The Guardian Angel,” by Murillo. Seville Cathedral 194

“St Leander,” by Murillo. Seville Cathedral 195

“St Isidore,” by Murillo. Seville Cathedral 196

“St Ferdinand, crowned and robed,” by Murillo. Seville Cathedral 197

“Madre Francisca Dorotea Villalda,” by Murillo. Seville Cathedral 198

“St Anthony with the Infant Saviour,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 199

“Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 200

“Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 201

“Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 202

“Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 203

“St Justa and St Rufina, Patron Saints of Seville, holding between them the Giralda Tower,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 204

“St Bonaventure and St Leander,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 205

“St Thomas of Villanueva, giving alms at the door of his Cathedral,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 206

“The Annunciation of Our Lady,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 207

“St Felix of Cantalisi, restoring to Our Lady the Infant Saviour, whom she had placed in his arms,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 208

“Adoration of the Shepherds of Bethlehem,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 209

“St Peter Nolasco kneeling before Our Lady of Mercy,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 210

“The Deposition,--St Francis of Assisi supporting the body of Our Lord nailed by the left hand to the Cross,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 211

“St Joseph and the Infant Saviour,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 212

“St John the Baptist in the Desert leaning against a rock,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 213

“St Augustine and the Flaming Heart,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 214

“St Felix of Cantalisi and the Infant Jesus,” known as “San Felix de las Arrugas,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 215

“St Anthony with the Infant Saviour,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 216

“Deposition from the Cross,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 217

“Our Lady with the Infant Saviour in her Arms,” by Murillo. (An early picture.) Seville Museum 218

“Our Lady and the Infant Saviour,” known as “La Virgen de la Servilleta,” by Murillo. Seville Museum 219

“Our Lady seated, with the Infant Saviour in her lap,” by Murillo. (An early picture.) Seville Museum 220

“St Thomas of Aquin,” by Zurbarán. Seville Museum 221

“The Virgin of the Grotto,” by Zurbarán. Seville Museum 222

“St Bruno talking to the Pope,” by Zurbarán. Seville Museum 223

“The Day of Judgment,” by Martin de Vos. Seville Museum 224

“Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception,” by J. Valdes Leal. Seville Museum 225

“Jesus crowning St Joseph,” by Zurbarán. Seville Museum 226

“The Devout Punyon,” by Zurbarán. Seville Museum 227

“Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception,” the Virgin surrounded by Cherubim, by Fr. Pacheco. Seville Museum 228

“Our Lord’s Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes,” by Murillo. Seville Hospital 229

“Moses striking the Rock in Horeb,” by Murillo. La Caridad, Seville 230

“St John of God, sinking under the weight of a sick man, assisted by an Angel,” by Murillo. La Caridad, Seville 231

“The Death of St Hermenigild” by J. de las Roelas. Hospital de la Sangre, Seville 232

“The Apostleship,” by Juan de las Roelas. Hospital de la Sangre, Seville 233

“The End of this World’s Glories,” by Valdes Leal. La Caridad, Seville 234

“Pietà, or the Virgin supporting the dead body of her Divine Son,” altar-screen, by Luis de Vargas. Santa Maria la Blanca, Seville 235

“St Joseph, holding the Infant Saviour in his arms,” by Murillo. San Telmo, Seville 236

“Our Lady of the Girdle,” by Murillo, San Telmo, Seville 237

“Portrait of Ferdinand VII.,” by Goya. San Telmo, Seville 238

“Portrait of Charles IV.,” by Goya. San Telmo, Seville 239

“The Annunciation,” by F. Zurbarán. San Telmo, Seville 240

“The Death of Laocoon and his Sons at the Siege of Troy,” by El Greco. San Telmo, Seville 241

“Caton of Utique tearing open his wounds,” by Josef Ribera. San Telmo, Seville 242

“Pietà. The Virgin holding the dead Saviour in her arms,” by Morales. San Telmo, Seville 243

“Portrait of El Greco,” by himself. Gallery of San Telmo, Seville 244

“The Miracle of St Vœu. St Hugo in the refectory with several Chartreux,” by Zurbarán. Seville Museum 245

“The Martyrdom of St Andrew,” by J. de las Roelas. Seville Museum 246

“The Last Supper,” by P. de Cespedes. Seville Museum 247

“Christ on the Cross,” by Zurbarán. Seville Museum 248

Portrait of the figure in Pacheco’s picture at Seville, supposed to represent Cervantes 249

“The Virgin and the Child Jesus,” by Alonso Cano. Seville Cathedral 250

“The Descent from the Cross,” by Alego Fernandez. Seville Cathedral 251

The Cathedral 252

The Giralda 253

The Giralda 254

Cathedral. The Gate of Pardon 255

Cathedral. Puerta de los Palos 256

Plan of the Cathedral 257

Cathedral. View of an organ 258

Cathedral. Monument to Columbus 259

Cathedral. Silver Tabernacle (weighing forty-five arrobas) 260

Alcazar Gardens 261

Alcazar Gardens 262

Alcazar Gardens 263

House of Pilate. The Goddess Ceres 264

House of Pilate. The Goddess Pallas Pacifer 265

Italica 266

Roman Walls 267

Patio de Banderas and the Giralda 268

Plaza de San Francisco 269

St Mark’s Church 270

Plaza de San Fernando 271

The Town Hall. Details of the old part 272

Façade of the Palace of San Telmo 273

Statue of Velazquez 274

Plaza de la Constitución 275

Plaza de la Constitución 276

Calle de Sierpes 277

Calle de Sierpes 278

A street in Seville 279

Hercules Avenue 280

The Pasadera 281

Courtyard of La Caridad 282

Plaza de San Fernando 283

Plaza de Gavidia 284

View from the Pasadera 285

The Drive 286

Paseo de las Delicias 287

The Quay 288

Partial view of Seville 289

Plaza de Toros 290

Fields of San Sebastian 291

Park of Maria Luisa 292

Railway Station of M.Z.A. Principal Façade 293

Railway Station of M.Z.A. General View 294

Triana Bridge 295

View from Triana Bridge 296

View from Triana 297

San Telmo from Triana 298

The Cathedral. Our Lord Crucified. Sculpture in the Sacristy 299

Plan of Seville 300

SEVILLE

Seville is the most Spanish of the cities of Spain. On her white walls the sunlight plays perpetually, the air is laden with the scent of the orange, the sound of the guitar and castanets is heard continually in the narrow streets. This is the South of romance, the South of which northerners dream and towards which so many of them are drawn by an irresistible fascination. The cities of Leon and Castile are grim and Gothic. Cordova is Moorish; but Seville is not essentially one nor the other, but presents that blending of both styles which makes her typical, which stands for all that Spain means to the average foreigner.

Seville lives. Cordova is dead, and Granada broods over her past. These are cemeteries of a vanished civilisation. Alone among the ancient seats of Moorish dominion, Seville has maintained her prosperity. Her wharves, as in the days of Al Mansûr, are still the resort of sailors from many lands. There is still wealth in her palaces and genius in her schools. To-day she holds the first place in native art, and Garcia y Ramos, Sanchez Perrier, Jimenez Aranda, and Bilbao not unworthily continue the traditions of Murillo and Zurbarán.

The city is Moorish, but informed throughout with the spirit of Spain. In Cordova the Spaniard seems a stranger; in Seville he has assimilated and adapted all that was bequeathed by his onetime rulers till you might think the place had always been his. It is as though the glowing metal of Andalusian life and temper had been poured into a mould made expressly by other hands to receive it. Thus Seville has not died nor decayed like her rivals. Her vitality intoxicates the northerner. Valdés says, “Seville has ever been for me the symbol of light, the city of love and joy.”

In my book, “Moorish Remains in Spain,” I have sketched the history of the city and briefly referred to its importance under the Roman sway. With the few monuments remaining from that time I do not purpose dealing separately--incorporated as they have been, for the most part, with works of more recent construction. Nor has Roman influence left very profound traces in Seville, any more than in the rest of Spain. Señor Rafael Contreras justly remarks that Roman civilisation made no deep impression on the country or the people. “We have in Spain,” he continues, “aqueducts, bridges, circuses, baths, roads, vases, urns, milliaria, statues, and jewellery. Specimens are still found, but, strictly speaking, art with us has never been either Roman or Greek.” And Seville, in particular, even during the Roman occupation, was rather a Punic than a Latin town. As to the successors of the Cæsars--the Visigoths--to them can only be ascribed a few capitals and stone ornaments, roughly executed in the Byzantine style. These, like the Roman remains, were used by the Moors in the construction of those buildings that have determined the physiognomy of Seville.

MOORISH SEVILLE

Seville was not among the spoils of Tarik, conqueror at the Guadalete. That general having directed his march upon Toledo, it was reserved to his superior officer, Musa Ben Nosseyr, to subdue the proudest city of Bætica. The citizens held out for a month and then retired upon Beja in Alemtejo. The Arabian commander left a garrison in the city, henceforward to be known for five hundred and thirty-six years as Ishbiliyah, and pushed forward to Merida. The Sevillians took advantage of his absence to shake off his yoke, assisted by the people of Beja and Niebla. Their triumph was short lived. Abdelasis, son of Musa, fell upon them like a thunderbolt, extinguished the rising in blood, and made the city the seat of government of the newly acquired provinces.

The interesting personality and tragic fate of Seville’s first Viceroy have made the site of his residence a question of some importance. It was formerly believed that he occupied the Acropolis or Citadel, supposed then to be covered by the Alcazar. The researches of Señores Gayangos and Madrazo have made it plain, however, that he established his headquarters in a church which had been dedicated by the sister of St Isidore to the martyrs Rufina and Justa, now amalgamated with the convent of La Trinidad. Adjacent to this building Abdelasis erected a mosque; and it was within its walls, while reciting the first surah of the Koran, that he was assassinated by the emissaries of the Khalif of Damascus--death being a not uncommon reward in the Middle Ages for too brilliant military services rendered to one’s sovereign.

The seat of government was transferred, soon after the murder of the son of Musa, to Cordova, and Seville sank for a time to a subsidiary rank. The various cities of Andalusia were allotted by the governor Abdelmelic among the different Syrian peoples who had flocked over on the news of the conquest; and Ishbiliyah, according to Señor de Madrazo, was assigned to the citizens of Horns, the classic Emesa. Owing to intermarriage between the conquerors and the natives, the distinction between the Moslems according to the places of origin of these early settlers was soon lost in that drawn between the pure-blooded Arabs and the Muwallads or half-breeds. In the meantime the germs of Arabian culture had fallen upon a kindly soil, and a new school of art and letters was in process of formation in Spain. The imposing monuments of Roman, Greek, and Byzantine civilisation, which the victorious hosts of Islam found ever in their path, were not without influence upon their conceptions of the beautiful in form. The fusion of the Hispano-Goths and Arabs likewise tended to produce a commingling of spirit, and ultimately to give birth to an art and a culture racy of the soil. “According to all contemporary writers,” says Señor Rafael Contreras, “it is beyond all doubt that the style which the artists of the Renaissance called Moorish (in the sense of originating in Northern Africa) was never anything of the sort. The details so much admired on account of their richness, the vaultings and the arched hollows practised in the walls, the festoons of the arches, the _commarajias_ and _alicates_, were Spanish works finer and more delicate than those of the East. The root was originally in Arabia, but it was happily transplanted to Spain, where blossomed that beautiful flower which diffuses its perfume after a lapse of seven centuries.”

Under the Western Khalifate, Seville flourished in spite of the assaults and internecine warfare of which it was frequently the theatre. When in 888 Andalusia became temporarily split up into several nominally independent states, the city acknowledged the sway of Ibrahim Ibn Hajjaj. The chronicler Ben Hayán, often quoted by Señor de Madrazo, describes this prince as keeping up imperial state and riding forth attended by five hundred horsemen. He ventured to assume the _tiraz_, the official garb of the Amirs of Cordova. To his court flocked the poets, the singers, and the wise men of Islam. Of him it was written, “In all the West I find no right noble man save Ibrahim, but he is nobility itself. When one has known the delight of living with him, to dwell in any other land is misery.” Flattery did not blind the sagacious Ibn Hajjaj to the insecurity of his position, and he bowed before the rising star of the new Khalifa, Abd-er-Rahman III. In 913 Ishbiliyah opened her gates to that powerful ruler and again became subject to Cordova. The city lost nothing by its timely submission. The generous and beneficent Khalifa narrowed and deepened the channel of the Guadalquivir, thus rendering it navigable. He introduced the palm tree from Africa, planted gardens, and adorned the city with splendid edifices. Much of the splendour of the Court of Cordova was reflected on Seville, which certainly rivalled the capital as a seat of learning. Among its citizens was Abu Omar Ahmed Ben Abdallah, surnamed _El Begi_ or “the Sage,” the author of an encyclopædia of sciences, which was long esteemed as a work of marvellous erudition. According to Condé, Abdallah was frequently consulted by the magistrates, even in his early youth, in affairs of the gravest import.

The public edifices of the Pearl of Andalusia were no doubt worthy of its fame as a home of wisdom and culture. In addition to the mosque built by Abdelasis, near or on the spot where the convent of La Trinidad now stands, a notable ornament of the city was the mosque raised on the site of the basilica of St Vincent--immortalised by several memorable Councils. “But who,” asks Señor de Madrazo, “would be capable to-day of describing this edifice? Nothing of it remains except the memory of the place where it stood. Other structures, ampler and more majestic, replaced it when, under the Almoravides and Almohades, Seville recovered its rank as an independent kingdom. Let us content ourselves with recording that the principal mosque, built at the same time as and on the model of that of Cordova, although on a smaller and less sumptuous scale, was situated on the site of the existing Cathedral, and that in the ninth century it was burnt by the Normans. In consequence it is impossible to say if the great horseshoe arches which occur in the cloister of the Cathedral are works earlier or later than that event. It does not appear probable that in the time of the Khalifs the mosque of Seville could have had the considerable dimensions suggested by the northern boundary of the _patio de los naranjos_. That line is 330 Castilian feet, which would give the mosque, extending from north to south, a length about double, the breadth of the atrium included--unlikely dimensions for a temple which, compared with the Jama of Cordova, was unquestionably of the second class. No one knows who ordered the construction of the primitive mosque of Seville.”

The irruption of the Normans, one of the results of which was the demolition of this edifice, took place in 859. The pirates were afterwards defeated off the coast of Murcia by the Moorish squadron, and made sail for Catalonia. A serious descent had taken place in 844. Lisbon was the first city to fall a victim to the Northmen, whom we next hear of at Cadiz and at Sidonia, where they defeated the Khalifa’s troops in a pitched battle. Fierce fighting took place before the walls of Ishbiliyah, the invaders being uniformly victorious. Laden with the richest booty, they at length retired overland to Lisbon, where they took to their ships. They not only destroyed the mosque of Seville, but threw down the city walls, which dated from Roman times. These were repaired by Abd-er-Rahman II., to be partially demolished again by Abd-er-Rahman III. on his triumphal entry into the amirate of Ibrahim Ibn Hajjaj.

The subjection of Seville to the yoke of the Khalifs of Cordova was, unhappily for the city and for Islam generally, not of long duration. The mighty Wizir, Al Mansûr, restored the waning power of the Crescent and drove back the Christians into the mountain fastnesses of the North. But the collapse of the Western Khalifate had been postponed, not averted. This Al Mansûr well knew. On his deathbed he reproached his son for yielding to unmanly tears, saying, “This is to me a signal of the approaching decay of this empire.” His prediction did not long await fulfilment. In 1009, seven years after his death, his second son, Abd-er-Rahman Sanjul, had the audacity to proclaim himself the Khalif Hisham’s heir. The empire became at once resolved into its component parts. On all sides the kadis and governors revolted. Independent amirates were set up in all the considerable towns. At Ishbiliyah the shrewd and powerful kadi, Mohammed Ben Abbad, perceived his opportunity, but contrived to excuse his ambition by a specious pretence of legality. An impostor, impersonating the legitimate Khalifa, Hisham, appeared on the troubled scene. Ben Abbad espoused his cause and pretended to govern the city in his name. His power firmly established, the kadi announced that the Khalifa was dead and had designated him as his lawful successor. For the second time, Seville rose to the dignity of an independent state.

The Abbadites were a splendour-loving race. Their Court was extolled by Arabian writers as rivalling that of the Abbasside sultans. Under their rule the city waxed every year more beautiful, more prosperous. Patrons of art and letters, the amirs were vigorous and capable sovereigns, and in all Musulman Spain no state was more powerful than theirs, except Toledo. The second monarch of the dynasty, Abu Amru Abbad, better known as Mo’temid, was a mighty warrior. He reduced Algarve and took Cordova. When not engaged in martial exploits he took delight in composing verses, in the society of talented men, and in the contemplation of the garden of his enemies’ heads, which he had laid out at the door of his palace. He was succeeded in 1069 by his son Abul-Kasim Mohammed, a native of Beja.

The Crescent was waning. All Al Mansûr’s conquests had been recovered by the Christians. Toledo fell before the arms of Alfonso III. The Castilians overran Portugal and penetrated into Andalusia. The Amir of Ishbiliyah took the only course open to him at the moment, and cultivated the friendship of the Castilian king. He consented to the removal of the body of St Isidore from Italica to Leon, and gave his daughter Zayda in a sort of left-handed marriage to Alfonso III. As the Christian king was already the husband of Queen Constancia, and Zayda’s dowry consisted of the most valuable conquests of the Amir Mut’adid, this transaction did not reflect much credit on either party. But it purchased for Seville a period of peace and security, during which its inhabitants became hopelessly enervated by luxury and ease.

The Abbadite sovereigns have left but few traces on the city which they did so much to embellish and improve. To them, however, may be ascribed the foundation of the Alcazar. Such at least is the opinion of Señor de Madrazo. In the horseshoe arches of the Salón de los Embajadores with their rich Corinthian capitals--on which the names of different Khalifas are inscribed--we detect a resemblance to the mosque of Cordova, and recognise the early Saracenic style, unaffected by African, or properly Moorish, influence. To the same period and school of architecture, Señor de Madrazo attributes the ornate arcading of the narrow staircase leading from the entrance court to near the balcony of the chapel; and the three arches with capitals in the abandoned apartment adjoining the Salón de los Principes. The ultra-semicircular curve of the arch occurs very rarely in later or true Moorish architecture.

The Moslem conquerors had, in the majority of cases, converted to their use the Christian churches in the cities they occupied. Many of the mosques that adorned Ishbiliyah during the reign of the race of Abbad had been adapted in this way, the lines of pillars being readjusted in most cases to give the structure that south-easterly direction that the law of Islam required. Traces of these Abbadite mosques remain in the churches of San Juan Bautista and San Salvador. On the wall of the former was found an inscription which has been thus translated by Don Pascual de Gayangos: “In the name of the clement and merciful Allah. May the blessing of Allah be on Mohammed, the seal of the Prophets. The Princess and august mother of Er-Rashid Abu-l-hosaya Obayd’ allah, son of Mut’amid Abu-l-Kasim Mohammed Ben Abbad (may Allah make his empire and power lasting, as well as the glory of both!), ordered this minaret to be raised in her mosque (which may Allah preserve!), awaiting the abundance of His rewards; and the work was finished, with the help of Allah, by the hand of the Wizir and Katib, the Amir Abu-l-Kasim Ben Battah (may Allah be propitious to me!), in the moon of Shaaban, in the year 478.”

The site of the present collegiate church of San Salvador was occupied by a mosque, which was used by the Moors for a considerable time after the Christian conquest, and preserved its form down to the year 1669. An inscription on white marble relates that a minaret was constructed in the year 1080, by Mut’amid Ben Abbad, that “the calling to prayer might not be interrupted.”

The reign of the Abbadites was brought to a close by the advent of the Almoravides (a word allied to _Marabut_), who, at the invitation of the Andalusian amirs, invaded Spain in the last quarter of the eleventh century. It was a story common enough in history. The Africans came at first as the friends and allies of the Spanish Arabs, and effectually stemmed the tide of Christian successes; but in 1091, Yusuf, the Almoravide leader, annexed Ishbiliyah and all Andalusia to his vast empire. The city became a mere provincial centre, the appanage of the Berber monarch. Mo’temid, loaded with chains, was transported to Africa, where he died in 1095, having reigned as amir twenty-seven years.

The Almoravides lived by the sword and perished by the sword. Perpetually engaged in warfare, among themselves or with the Christians, they left no deep impress on the character of Seville or of Andalusia generally. With them the student of the arts in Spain has little concern. They burst like a tornado over the land, destroying much, creating nothing. Little more than half-a-century had passed since the downfall of the Abbadites, when the star of the Almoravides paled before the rising crescent of the Almohades or Al Muwahedun. The new sectaries, as fierce as their predecessors, but more indomitable and austere, wrested all Barbary from the descendants of Tashrin and annexed Ishbiliyah to their empire in 1146.

The reign of the Almohades is the most interesting period in the history of the city. It was marked by the foundation of Seville’s most important existing edifices, and by the introduction of a new style of architecture. Hitherto, what is loosely called Moorish art, had been native Andalusian art, following Saracenic or Syrian ideals. Of this first period, the Mezquita at Cordova is the finest monument. Seville is peculiarly the city of the second, or true, Moorish period. Byzantine and Oriental influences disappeared and were supplanted by the African or, more properly, Berber, character. The new conquerors of Andalusia were a rude, hardy race, and we find something virile and coarse in their architecture. “Beside the Giralda of Seville,” remarks Herr Karl Eugen Schmidt, “the columns of the mosque of Cordova seem small; the pretty halls of the Alhambra have something weak and feminine.” The weakness of the Almohade builders, as is usually the case with imperfectly civilised peoples, lay in an excessive fondness for ornamentation. Señor de Madrazo’s criticism, though severe, is, on the whole, just. While admitting the beauty of certain of their innovations, such as the stalactited dome (afterwards carried out with so much effect at Granada) and the pointed arch, he goes on to say, “The Almohade architecture displays that debased taste which is imitative rather than instinctive, and which creates only by exaggerating forms to a degree inconsistent with the design--differing from the Mudejar work of the thirteenth to the fifteenth centuries, which reveals an instinctive feeling for the beautiful in ornament, which never loses sight of the graceful, the elegant, and the bold, and which consequently never betrays any aberration. The Almohade style, in short, at once manifests the vigour of the barbarian civilised by conquest; the Mudejar style has the enduring character of the works of a man of taste, wise in good and evil fortune; both are the faithful expression of the culture of peoples of different origins and aptitudes.” Elsewhere the same authority observes, “It is certain that the innovation characteristic of Musulman architecture in Spain in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, cannot be explained as a natural mutation from the Arabic art of the Khalifate, or as a prelude to the art of Granada, because there is very little similarity between the style called secondary or Moorish and the Arab-Byzantine and Andalusian; while, on the other hand, it is evident that the Saracenic monuments of Fez and Morocco, of the reigns of Yusuf Ben Tashfin, Abdul Ben Ali, Al Mansûr, and Nasr, partake of the character of the ornamentation introduced by the Almohades into Spain.”

The most important example of this style is the Giralda, now adjacent to the magnificent Christian cathedral which was reared in later days on the foundations of the great mosque. Señor de Madrazo has reconstructed for us the general form and aspect of the finest monument of Almohade piety. The mosque replaced that which had been destroyed by the Normans, and appears to have embodied some part of the original structure, to judge from the horseshoe arches still to be seen in the Claustro de la Granada. The work was begun by order of Yusuf, the son of Abd-er-Rahman, the founder of the dynasty. The mosque formed a rectangle, extending from north to south, and surrounded by cloisters and courtyards. The interior was divided into longitudinal naves by a series of marble columns, which supported an adorned ceiling of carved and painted wood. The _mihrab_, or sanctuary, would have been at the southern extremity, after the Syrian custom, it taking the Spanish Muslims some time to realise that Mecca lay east rather than south of Andalusia. The mosque would also have contained a _maksurrah_, or vestibule, for the imam and his officials, the _nimbar_, or pulpit, for the sovereign, and the tribune for the preacher. In the northern court was the existing fountain for ablutions, surmounted by a cupola, and surrounded by orange and palm-trees. The eastern court was known as the Court of the Elms. In all probability, attached to the sacred edifice, was the _turbeh_, or tomb of the founder.

The Giralda is not only the most important and famous of minarets, but is among the three or four most remarkable towers in the world. It is more to Seville than Giotto’s campanile to Florence; it rivals in fame the now vanished campanile of St Mark’s. Unlike similar edifices in Egypt and Syria, minarets among the western Moslems were built strong and massive, rather than slender and elegant. The Giralda,” says Herr Schmidt, “is one of the strongest buildings in the world, and few of our Christian church towers could have withstood so successfully the lightning and the earthquake.”

The Giralda is quadrangular in section, and covers a space of 13.60 square metres. The architect--whose name is variously spelt Gever, Hever, and Djabir--is said to have used quantities of Roman remains and statuary as a base for the foundations. The thickness of the wall at the base is nine feet, but it increases with the height, the interior space narrowing accordingly. The lower part of the tower is of stone, the upper part of brick. At a height of about 15 metres above the ground begin those decorations in stone which lend such elegance and beauty to this stout structure. They consist in vertical series of windows--mostly _ajimeces_ or twin-windows--some with the horseshoe, others the pointed arch, flanked on either side by broad vertical bands of beautiful stone tracery, resembling trellis-work. The windows are enclosed in arches which exhibit considerable diversity of design. The decoration as a whole is harmonious and beautiful.

The Moorish tower only reaches to a height of 70 metres. The remaining portion, reaching upwards for another 25 metres, is of Christian workmanship. Before this was added, the tower appears to have been crowned, like most West African minarets, by a small pinnacle or turret. This supported four balls or apples of gilded copper, one of which was so large that the gates of Seville had to be widened that it might be brought into the city. The iron bar which supported the balls weighed about ten hundredweights, and the whole was cast by a Sicilian Arab named Abu Leyth, at a cost of £50,000 sterling. We owe these particulars to a Mohammedan writer of the period, and his accuracy was confirmed in 1395, when the balls, having been thrown to the ground by an earthquake, were carefully weighed and examined.

The upper or newer part of the Giralda was built by Fernando Ruiz in 1568. Despite its Doric and Ionic columns and Renaissance style, it does not mar the beauty and harmony of the whole building, and is itself a remarkably graceful work. The entablature of the second stage or storey bears the words _Turris fortissima Nomen Domini_. The whole fabric is surmounted by the bronze statue of Faith, executed by Bartolomé Morel in 1568. It stands fourteen feet high, and weighs twenty-five hundredweights, yet so wonderful is the workmanship that it turns with every breath of the wind. Hence the name applied to the whole tower--Giralda--from _que gira_, “which turns.” The figure wears a Roman helmet. The right hand clasps the labarum of Constantine, and the left a palm branch symbolical of victory.

The Giralda is ascended by means of thirty-five inclined planes, up which a horse might be ridden with ease to the very top. The various _cuerpos_ or stages of the ascent are all named. The Cuerpo de Campanas is named after its fine peal of bells. The bell named Santa Maria was hung in 1588 by order of the Archbishop Gonzalo de Mena. It cost ten thousand ducats, and weighs eighteen tons. The Cuerpo de Azucenas (or of the lilies) is so named after its urns with floral decorations in ironwork. El Cuerpo del Reloj (clock tower) contains a clock partly constructed in 1765 by the monk José Cordero, with pieces of another placed here in 1400 in the presence of Don Enrique III.--the first tower-clock set up in Spain. The Cuerpos de Estrellas (stars) and de las Corambolas (billiard-balls) are named after the predominant devices in their schemes of decoration.

The highest platform of the Giralda affords, as might be expected, a very extensive view. On the whole, the prospect is disappointing. The neighbourhood of Seville is not beautiful, nor are there any very notable sites or natural features included within the panorama. Standing below Morel’s great statue, however, and gazing down upon the city, interesting considerations naturally present themselves. That the figure of Christian faith should thus be reared on the summit of a building specially intended to stimulate the zeal and to excite the devotion of the followers of Islam is a reflection calculated to give profound satisfaction to the devout Spaniard. The whimsical philosopher may also find an appropriateness in the handiwork of the men of the simpler, cruder faith conducting one upwards to the more refined and complicated creed. I do not know if Mohammedans ever visit Seville. If so, they doubtless console themselves for the desecration of their sacred edifices by thoughts of Hagia Sophia and the onetime Christian churches of the East. And the Giralda has fared better at the hands of the Christians than many a church of their own has done. I may instance the chapel at Mayence, which with practically no alteration in its architecture and internal arrangements now serves the purpose of a beer-shop.

As the Giralda attests the size and beauty of the great mosque, so several smaller towers exist in Seville to mark the sites of the lesser Mohammedan temples. The most important of these is the tower or minaret of San Marcos. It is seventy-five feet high and ten feet broad--the highest edifice in the city except the Giralda. It is built according to the pure Almohade style, “without any admixture,” points out Señor de Madrazo, “of the features taken from the Christian architecture of the West.” According to Mr Walter M. Gallichan there is a tradition that Cervantes used to ascend this tower to scan the vicinity in search of a Sevillian beauty of whom he was enamoured. The church is Gothic, and dates from 1478, but the beautiful portal exhibits Mudejar workmanship, and may be ascribed to the days of St Ferdinand or of his immediate successors.

The parish churches of San Juan Bautista, Santa Marina, San Esteban, Santiago, Santa Catalina, San Julián, San Ildefonso, San Andrés, San Vicente, San Lorenzo, San Bartolomé, Santa Cruz, and Santa Maria de las Nieves (some of which no longer exist), were all mosques during the Almohade era. A few continue to preserve their minarets and _mihrabs_, generally restored and modified almost beyond recognition.

While attending by the construction of these numerous places of worship to the spiritual needs of their subjects, the Almohade rulers neglected no means of strengthening Ishbiliyah and of promoting its general prosperity. The city became the most important seat of Mohammedan power in the West. Trade rapidly increased, and the town became the principal resort of the weavers, metal-workers, and other prominent Moorish craftsmen. Abu Yakub Yusuf was the first to throw a bridge of boats across the Guadalquivir, over which troops first passed on October 11th, 1171. This bridge immensely added to the strength of the city as a fortified place, as it established permanent communication between it and its principal source of supplies, the fertile district called the Ajarafa on the right bank of the river. The charms of this expanse, otherwise known as the Orchard of Hercules, are rapturously described by Arab historians. These are the words of the poet Ibn Saffar: “The Ajarafa surpasseth in beauty and fertility all the lands of the world. The oil of its olives goeth even to far Alexandria; its farms and orchards exceed those of other countries in size and convenience; so white and clean are they, that they appear like so many stars in a sky of olive gardens.” The Ajarafa is an Arabia Felix without wild beasts, the Guadalquivir a Nile without crocodiles. El Makkari says it measured about forty miles in each direction and contained a numerous population. Those who know the rather dreary country extending westward of the modern city will realise the melancholy change brought about by time.

The city then, as now, was girdled by strong walls. The gates were twelve in number. Those not turned towards the river were strongly fortified with towers and bastions. The farther bank of the Guadalquivir was defended by castles and redoubts. Upwards of a hundred keeps and watch-towers studded the adjacent country.

One of the most vital points in the defensive works was the poetically-named Torre del Oro (tower of gold), which still exists, and is familiar to every visitor to the city. The tower is a twelve-sided polygon of three storeys. It is surmounted by a smaller tower, also of twelve sides, which in turn supports a small round cupola. This superstructure was added in the eighteenth century, whereas the main building was erected by the Almohade governor Abu-l-Ala in the year 1220. The tower was in those days connected with the walls of the city by what is called in military parlance a curtain, which was pulled down as late as in 1821. The outwork faced another watch-tower on the opposite bank of the river, and a great iron chain was drawn from the one to the other, effectually closing the harbour against hostile vessels. The assaults of the foeman and the deadlier ravages of time have stripped this strong and graceful monument of the beautiful tiles or _azulejos_ with which it was once adorned, and which seemed to have earned for it its present name. No Danaë, alas! waits in this tower of gold to-day for tyrant or deliverer. The place is occupied by clerks, whose pens are ever busy recording the shipments of coal brought by incoming steamers; and the immediate vicinity is infested by “tramp” sailors of all nationalities, mostly British, for whose benefit, presumably, rum, “Old Tom,” and other stimulating but unromantic beverages are dispensed at kiosks and bars.

The spot appears to have been the scene of a picturesque episode recounted by Contreras. It is worth repeating as revealing the polished character of the dusky amirs who ruled in Ishbiliyah three hundred years before Charles of Orleans devoted his declining years, in his palace by the Loire, to the making of ballads, triolets, and rondeaux.

The Abbadite amir, Mut’adid-billah, was walking one day in the field of Marchab Afida, on the banks of the Guadalquivir, and observed the breeze ruffling the surface of the water. He improvised the line--

“The breeze makes of the water a cuirass”--

and turning to the poet Aben Amr, called upon him to complete the verse. While the laureate was still in the throes of poetical parturition, a young girl of the people who happened to be standing by, anticipated him, and gave utterance to these original lines--

“A cuirass strong, magnificent for combat,
As if the water had been frozen truly.”