of straight lines, is monotonous, and affords but imperfect pleasure;
but, introduce lines which tend to carry the eye towards the angles, as
at B., and you have at once an additional pleasure.
[Illustration]
“Then add lines giving a circular tendency, as at C., and you have now
complete harmony: in this case the square is the leading form or tonic;
the angular and curved are subordinate.
“We may produce the same result in adopting an angular composition, as
at D., add the lines as at E., and we at once correct the tendency to
follow only the angular direction of the inclined lines; but, unite
these by circles as at F., and we have harmony still more nearly
perfect, _i.e._, repose, for the eye has now no longer any want that
could be supplied.”
Still, compositions distributed in equal lines or divisions will be less
beautiful than those which require a greater mental effort to appreciate
them: proportions the most difficult for the eye to detect will be the
most agreeable.
In surface decoration by the Moors, lines flow from a parent stem: every
ornament, however distant, can be traced to its branch and root; they
have the happy art of so adapting the ornament to the surface decorated,
that the ornament as often appears to have suggested the general form as
to have been suggested by it. In all cases we find the foliage flowing
out of a parent stem, and we are never offended, as in modern practice,
by the random introduction of an ornament set down without a reason for
its existence. However irregular the space they have to fill, they
always commence by dividing it into equal areas, and round these trunk
lines they fill in their detail, but invariably return to their parent
stem.
The Moors also followed another principle, that of radiation from the
parent stem, as we may see exemplified in nature by the human hand, or
in a chestnut leaf. When style becomes debased, neither of these laws is
followed; as in Elizabethan ornament, where nothing is continuous,
nothing radiates, all is haphazard.
All junctions of curved lines with curved, or of curved with straight,
should be tangential to each other. The Oriental practice always accords
with this principle. Many of their ornaments are on the principle which
is observable in the lines of a feather and in the articulations of a
leaf; and to this is due that additional charm found in all perfect
ornamentation, which is called “the graceful.”
[Illustration: MISCELLANEOUS ORNAMENT IN THE ALHAMBRA]
[Illustration: CORNICES, CAPITALS, AND COLUMNS IN THE ALHAMBRA. THE
SPLENDID CORNICE AT THE RIGHT-HAND TOP CORNER IS FROM THE LOGGIA OF THE
GENERALIFE.]
[Illustration: CAPITALS FROM THE COURTS AND HALLS OF THE ALHAMBRA.]
A further charm is found in the works of the Arabs and Moors from their
conventional treatment of ornament, which, forbidden as they were by
their creed to represent living forms, they carried to the highest
perfection. They ever worked as Nature works, but always avoided a
direct transcript; they took her principles, but did not attempt to copy
her works.
It is true that the Arabs in Spain, as already pointed out, once or
twice allowed themselves to disregard the behests of the Korán, as
instanced in the Fountain of Lions, and the bas-relief which is now
preserved in the Museum of the Alhambra; but the Mohammedan mosques of
Egypt, India, and Spain, show everywhere the calm, voluptuous
translation of the doctrines of the Korán: an art in unison with its
imaginative and poetic teachings which led them to adorn their temples
in a manner peculiar to themselves.
COLOUR.
The colours employed by the Moors on their stucco work were in all
cases, the primaries--blue, red, and yellow (gold). The secondary
colours--purple, green, and orange, occur only in the Mosaic dados;
which, being near the eye, formed a point of repose from the more
brilliant colouring above. It is true that, at the present day, the
grounds of many of the ornaments are found to be green; it will readily
be seen, however, on a minute examination, that the colour originally
employed was blue, which, being a metallic pigment, has become green
from the effects of time. This is proved by the presence of particles of
blue colour, which occur everywhere in the crevices: in the
“restorations” also, which were made by the Catholic kings, green and
purple were freely used.
The colouring of the Courts and Halls of the Alhambra was carried out
on so perfect a motive, that anyone who cares to make this a study, can,
with almost absolute certainty, on being shown for the first time a
piece of Moorish ornament in white, define at once the manner in which
it was coloured. So completely were all the architectural forms
designed, with reference to their subsequent colouring, that the surface
alone will indicate the colours they were destined to receive.
Notwithstanding the fact that the Moors, in their marvellous system of
decoration, worked on fixed rules, the effect of their infinite variety
leaves the observer under the impression that they arrived at their
amazing achievements by instinct, to which centuries of refinement had
brought them. One person may naturally sing in tune as another does by
acquired knowledge. The happier state, however, is where knowledge
ministers to instinct, and this must have been the case with the Moors.
Their poet exhorts us to attentively contemplate the adornments of the
Palace, and so reap the benefit of a commentary on decoration; this
invitation seems to imply that there was in their works something to be
learned as well as much that might be felt.
Mr. Owen Jones admits that there is no authority for the gilding of the
columns: wherever the columns are of marble, the shafts are always free
from traces of colour of any kind. Gold, blue, and red are still seen on
most of the capitals, and, in some cases, the plaster half-columns
against the walls are covered by mosaic of a small pattern in glazed
earthenware. Nevertheless, the eminent authority on decoration is
strongly of opinion that the marble shafts could never have been,
originally, left entirely white; and, furthermore, he thinks that the
general harmony of the colouring above forbids such a supposition; but
the conclusion seems to be erroneous, when it is remembered that the
shafts of the columns are compared, in the graceful hyperbole of the
Inscriptions, to “transparent crystal;” and, again, “when struck by the
earliest beams of the rising sun, maybe likened to many blocks of
pearl.” Therefore, in view of the poetic reference by Moorish
versifiers, and the utter absence of any trace of colour on the marble,
it has been thought befitting to omit the gilding of the shafts in the
many reproductions in this volume from the beautiful coloured plates in
the work of Owen Jones. It should be recorded here that the book alluded
to is dedicated “To the Memory of Jules Goury, Architect, who died of
Cholera, at Granada, August 28th, 1834, whilst engaged in preparing the
original drawings for this work.”
Amongst the illustrations appearing on p. xlix. _supra_, which
principally consist of cornices, capitals, and columns in the Alhambra,
is a motto in Roman characters: TĀTO·MŌTA--Tanto Monta--pertaining to
Ferdinand and Isabella, and which is somewhat out of place in a page
otherwise devoted to Moorish ornament. The motto, of course, signifies
_tantamount_, and is meant to express an equality in power between the
two Sovereigns; Isabella zealously maintaining that her right of
exercising the royal authority was equivalent to that of her royal
consort: “_Tanto monta Isabella que Hernando, Hernando que
Isabella_”--of equal worth are Isabella and Ferdinand. The motto appears
in relief in the Court of the Lions.
Acknowledgment is made to the work of the late James Cavanah Murphy,
_Arabian Antiquities of Spain_, Lond., 1815, to which source we are
indebted for some of the illustrations to the present volume. Mr. Murphy
faithfully delineated, and admirably engraved the arabesques and mosaics
of the superb Courts and Halls of the Palace of the Alhambra at Granada.
For the rest, it may be said that a vast number of plates have been
specially prepared for the present volume; and it is thought a
confident expectation may be indulged of a favourable reception to an
attempt at preserving the reliques of a romantic pile--the glory and the
wonder of a civilised world.
“I PRAY YOU, LET US SATISFY OUR EYES
WITH THE MEMORIALS AND THE THINGS OF FAME
THAT DO RENOWN THIS CITY.”
_Twelfth Night, Act III., sc. 3._
The Alhambra.
The ancient citadel and residence of the Moorish monarchs of Granada is,
indisputably, the most curious, and in some ways the most marvellous
building that exists in the whole world. In its period, its
architectural style, and artistic effect, it is not without its
counterpart in Southern Spain; but the Alhambra was conceived and
constructed on so colossal a scale that it is accepted as the last word
in Arabian workmanship. From the outside it appears to be a forbidding
fortress, and, indeed, its walls are of prodigious strength; but within
it is a palace that was once the most voluptuous in the makings and
imaginings of man, and in which everything was made subservient to
luxury.
The singular fortunes of the Arabian, or Moresco-Spaniards, whose whole
existence is a tale that is told, certainly forms one of the most
anomalous, yet splendid episodes in history. Potent and durable as was
their dominion, we have no one distinct title by which to designate
them. They were a nation, as it were, without a legitimate country or a
name: a remote wave of the great Arabian inundation cast upon the shores
of Europe. From the year 710, when the Arab general Tarif landed at the
port which bears his name, and plundered Algeciras, to be succeeded in
the following year by a greater soldier, Geb-al-Tarik, whose name
survives in the title of “The Rock”--a familiar designation very dear to
Englishmen--the course of Moorish conquest from Gibraltar to the cliffs
of the Pyrenees was as rapid and brilliant as the ancient Moslem
victories of Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not been checked on the
Plains of Tours by Charles _Martel_, who that day gained his
_sobriquet_--“The Hammerer”--all France, all Europe might have succumbed
to the ravages of the Saracenic warriors as completely as the empires of
the East were made to yield, and the crescent might have glittered on
the fanes of Paris and of London.
Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed hordes of Asia and
Africa that formed this great irruption, gave up the Moslem principle of
conquest, and sought to establish in Spain a peaceable and permanent
dominion. As conquerors, their heroism was only equalled by their
moderation; and in
[Illustration: VIEW OF GRANADA, SHOWING THE ALHAMBRA AND THE SIERRA
NEVADA.]
both, for a time, they excelled the nations with whom they contended.
Severed from their native homes, they loved the land given them, as they
supposed, by Allah, and strove to adorn it with all that could minister
to the happiness of man. By a system of wise and equitable laws they
formed an empire unrivalled for its prosperity by any of the empires of
Christendom, and diligently drew around them the graces and refinements
that marked the Arabian empire in the East at the time of its
[Illustration: GENERAL VIEW OF THE ALHAMBRA FROM SAN NICOLAS.]
greatest civilisation. If the superb remains of Moslem monuments in
Spain; if the Mosque of Córdova, the Alcázar of Seville, and the
Alhambra of Granada still bear inscriptions fondly vaunting the power
and permanency of the dominion of the Moor; can the boast be derided as
arrogant and vain? They were the outposts and frontiers of Islamism. The
[Illustration: PART OF THE ALHAMBRA, EXTERIOR.]
Southern part of the Peninsula was the great battle-ground where the
Gothic conquerors of the North, and the Moslem conquerors of the East,
met and strove for mastery; the fiery courage of the Arab being at
length subdued by the obstinate and persevering valour of the
descendants of the subjects of Don Roderick. But century after century
had passed away, and still they retained a hold upon the land.[4] A
period had elapsed equal to that which has passed since England was
subjugated by the Normans; and the descendants of Musa[5] and Taric
might as little anticipate being forced into exile across the Straits
traversed by their triumphant ancestors, as the descendants of Rollo and
William may dream of being driven back to the shores of Normandy.
With all this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was but
[Illustration: THE ALHAMBRA AND THE SIERRA NEVADA.]
a brilliant exotic that took no fixed root in the soil it adorned.
Severed from all their neighbours in the West by impassable barriers of
faith and manners, and separated by seas and deserts from their kindred
in the East, they remained an isolated people. Their whole existence was
a prolonged and gallant struggle to maintain a foothold in a land
usurped. The few relics of the miserable and proscribed race were
ultimately expelled from the Peninsula, under the administration of the
Duke of Lerma, during the reign of Philip III.--a measure which, by
depriving Spain of a numerous and industrious population, inflicted a
severe blow on her agriculture and commerce.
Never was the annihilation of a nation more complete. Where are they?
The exiled remnant of a once powerful people became assimilated with the
predatory hordes of Barbary and the desert southward. A few broken
monuments are all that remain to bear witness to their power and
dominion in Europe.
Such is the Alhambra; an epoch marking relic--a Moslem pile in the midst
of a Christian land; an Oriental palace amidst the Gothic edifices of
the West; an elegant memento of a brave, intelligent, and graceful
people who conquered, ruled, and passed away.
L’Alhambra! l’Alhambra! palais que les Génies
Ont doré comme un rêve et rempli d’harmonies;
Forteresse aux créneaux festonnés et croulans,
Où l’on entend la nuit de magiques syllables,
Quand la lune, à travers les milles arceaux arabes,
Sème les murs de trèfles blancs!
_Les Orientales_, par _Victor Hugo_.
The Alhambra--the Acropolis of Granada--is, indeed, a pearl of great
price in the estimation of all travellers, exciting in the breast of the
stranger the most absorbing interest and concentrated devotion. To
realise the full spell--the mystery and the magic of the Alhambra--one
must live in the building by day and contemplate it--like the ruins of
fair Melrose--by moonlight, when all is still. “Who can do justice,”
says Washington Irving, “to a moonlight night in such a climate and in
such a place! The temperature of an Andalusian midnight in summer is
perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into
[Illustration: ASCENT TO THE ALHAMBRA BY THE CUESTA DEL REY
CHICO--LESSER KING HILL.]
a purer atmosphere; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirit,
an elasticity of frame, that renders mere existence enjoyment. The
effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra, has something like
enchantment. Every rent and chasm of time, every mouldering tint and
weather-stain disappears; the marble resumes its original whiteness;
the long colonnades brighten in the moonbeams; the halls are illuminated
with a softened radiance until the whole edifice reminds one of the
enchanted palace of an Arabian tale.”
[Illustration: BALCONY OF THE “CAPTIVE” (ISABEL DE SOLIS), OVERLOOKING
THE VEGA, OR PLAIN, OF GRANADA.]
Art and nature have combined to render Granada, with its Alps, Plain,
and Alhambra, one of those few places which surpass all previous
conceptions. The town is built on the spurs of the hills, which rise on
the south-east to their greatest altitude. The city overlooks the
_Vega_, or Plain, and is about 2,500 feet above sea-level. This
altitude, coupled with the snowy background, renders it a most delicious
residence; the bosom of snow furnishing a never-failing supply of water
for
[Illustration: ALCOVE OF THE “CAPTIVE” (ISABEL DE SOLIS).]
irrigation. Accordingly, the _Vega_ supplies every vegetable production,
and is a spot--said the Arabians themselves--superior in extent and
fertility to the valley of Damascus.
The Alhambra is built on a crowning height that hangs over the River
Darro; its long lines of walls and towers follow the curves and dips of
the ground just as a consummate artist would have placed them; the
wooded slopes, kept green by water-courses, are tenanted by
nightingales, singing as if in pain at the tender scene of desolate
beauty.
Granada, which, under the Moors, was populated by half-a-million
inhabitants, knew no slow decline, but flourished until it toppled to
its fall. The date of its ruin is 2nd January, 1492, when the banner of
Castile first floated from the towers of the Alhambra. To the fatal
influence of a beautiful woman--Isabel de Solis--may be attributed, in
great part, the destruction of the Moslem cause. Isabel was the daughter
of the Governor of Martos, a town of Andalusia to the north-west of
Granada. In a foray by the Moors she was captured, and became the
favourite Sultana of Abu-l-hasan, King of Granada. Her Moorish
appellation is Zoraya--“Morning Star”--in allusion to her surpassing
loveliness, on account of which Ayeshah, another wife and cousin of
Abu-l-hasan, became jealous of her rival. This necessarily led to
dissension; conspiracy was rampant, and the Moorish Court became
separated into two parties. Of the most powerful families of Granada,
the Zegris espoused the cause of Ayeshah; while the Beni Cerraj
(Abencerrages) championed that of the “Morning Star.” In June, 1482,
Abu-Abdillah (Boabdil), son of Ayeshah, dethroned Abu-l-hasan, his
father. Thus the Moorish house was divided against itself at the very
time when Castile and Aragon became united by the marriage of Ferdinand
and Isabella. On Boabdil’s defeat and capture at Lucena in 1483, the old
king returned to Granada and was enthroned, but quickly abdicated in
favour of his brother, Mohammed (XII.), called Ez-zaghal, the Valiant.
Boabdil, later, was re-instated; but, becoming a mere instrument and
vassal of Ferdinand, finally surrendered himself and his kingdom to the
Christian king.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE “CAPTIVE’S” (ISABEL DE SOLIS) TOWER.]
For the true character of Ferdinand consult Shakespeare, who understood
all things--“who didst the stars and sunbeams know.” He describes
Ferdinand, by the mouth of our eighth Henry’s ill-fated queen, Katharine
of Aragon, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella:
“....Ferdinand,
My father, King of Spain, was reckon’d
The _wisest_ prince, that there had reign’d by many
A year before: ...”
Henry VIII., Act II.
And of Katharine’s qualities, King Henry, in all things else
unrelenting, speaks in high terms:
“....Thou art, alone,--
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government,
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,--
_The queen of earthly queens_.”
Henry VIII., Act II.
As to Queen Isabella, Ford is loud in her praise, regarding her as a
pearl among women. She died, indeed, far from Granada, but desired to be
buried here--in the Cathedral of Granada--the bright jewel of her crown.
Isabella was the Elizabeth of Spain, the most effulgent star of an age
which produced Ximenez, Columbus, and the Great Captain, all of whom
rose to full growth under her smile, and withered at her death. She is
one of the most faultless characters in history, one of the purest
sovereigns who ever graced or dignified a throne; who, “in all her
relations of queen, or woman,” was, in the words of Lord Bacon, “an
honour to her sex, and the corner-stone of the greatness of Spain.” Then
it was that Spain spread her wings over a wider sweep of empire, and
extended her name of glory to the far antipodes. Then it was that her
flag, on which the sun never set, was unfolded to the wonder and terror
of Europe; while a New World, boundless, and richer than the dreams of
avarice, was cast into her lap, discovered at the very moment when the
Old World was becoming too confined for the outgrowth of the awakened
intellect, enterprise, and ambition of mankind.
* * * * *
After receiving the keys of the fortress, Ferdinand remained for a few
days in Granada, having entrusted the custody of the Alhambra to Don
Inigo Lopez de Mendoza, Count of Tendilla.[6]
[Illustration: THE GOTHIC INSCRIPTION SET UP IN THE ALHAMBRA BY THE
COUNT OF TENDILLA, TO COMMEMORATE THE SURRENDER OF THE FORTRESS IN
1492.]
The fact is recorded in a Gothic inscription formerly placed over a
cistern constructed at the command of that Governor, but now on a wall
just within the “Gate of Justice.” The letters are incised upon a large
marble tablet.
[Illustration: THE SURRENDER OF GRANADA BY BOABDIL TO FERDINAND AND
ISABELLA, JANUARY 2ND, 1492.]
The following is a translation of the inscription:
“The most high, most Catholic, and most powerful lords, Don Fernando and
Doña Isabel, our King and Queen, conquered by force of arms this Kingdom
and city of Granada, which, after their highnesses had besieged it in
person for a considerable time, was surrendered to them by the Moorish
King, Muley Hasen, together with its Alhambra, and other fortresses, on
the 2nd day of January, 1492. On the same day their highnesses
appointed, as Governor and Captain-General of the same, Don Inigo Lopez
de Mendoza, Count of Tendilla, their vassal, who, on their departure,
was left in the Alhambra with 500 horse and 1,000 foot; and the Moors
were ordered to remain in their houses and villages as they were before.
The Count, by command of their highnesses, caused this cistern to be
made.”
It will be seen, by the style of the Gothic lettering, that the
inscription was cut in the last decade of the fifteenth century. Whether
the count of Tendilla dug the well or only constructed the cistern
remains a disputable point; it is not important; but what is by no means
clear is the strange statement that the keys were surrendered by “Muley
Hasen.” Upon the capture of Boabdil[7] at Lucena by the Count of Cabra,
he was conducted to Córdova, where he was received with much honour by
Ferdinand, after the manner, in modern times, of the reception of
Schamyl at the Court of St. Petersburg. Thereafter, Boabdil became the
instrument of the Christians, and was allowed to return to Granada,
where such confusion reigned at this time, that there were always two,
and sometimes three kings in the Moorish capital of Andalusia. The
antagonism of old Muley Hasen, his son Boabdil, and the brother of
Muley, Ez-Zaghal, “the Valiant,” all posing as kings at one time,
probably hastened the overthrow of the Moorish power.
There is much uncertainty respecting the date of Muley Hasen’s death.
Some authorities state that when he was dethroned by his son Boabdil,
“he retired to Malaga.” Others say that the king could not survive the
misfortunes that his son’s rebellion brought upon the kingdom, and
“becoming blind and mad, soon afterwards died.” One account gives his
death as occurring in September, 1484, without, however, adducing
evidence in support. Is it not just possible then, that when Malaga
fell, the old king was discovered and rode in Ferdinand’s train, to
deliver the keys of Granada, as so plainly set forth in the Gothic
inscription of the Count of Tendilla?