CORDOVA, SEVILLE, AND CADIZ.
Cordova is a gloomy and desolate city with
about forty thousand inhabitants. It was once
the capital of the kingdom of Cordova, and had two
hundred thousand people within its walls; and some
say a million, though the former number is doubtless
nearer the truth. The grass grows in its streets now,
and it looks like a deserted city, as it is. There is only
one thing to see in Cordova, and that is the mosque.
As soon as the party had been to breakfast, they
hastened to visit it.
“We will first take a view of the outside,” said the
doctor to his pupils when they had reached the mosque.
“This square in front of it is the Court of Oranges;
you observe a few palms and cypresses, as well as
orange–trees. The fountain in the centre was built by
the Moors nearly a thousand years ago.”
“But I don’t see any thing so very grand about the
mosque, if that great barn–like building is the one,”
said Murray. “It looks more like a barrack than a
mosque. We have been in the mosque business some,
and they can’t palm that thing off upon us as a real
mosque. We have seen the genuine thing in Constantinople.”
“I grant that the outside is not very attractive,”
added the doctor. “But in the days of the Moors,
when the mosque was in its glory, the roof was covered
with domes and cupolas. In spite of what you say,
Murray, this was the finest, as it is one of the largest
mosques in the world. It covers an area of six hundred
and forty–two by four hundred and sixty–two feet. It
was completed in the year 796; and the work was
done in ten years. It was built to outdo all the other
mosques of the world except that at Jerusalem. Now
we will go in.”
The party entered the mosque, and were amazed, as
everybody is who has not been prepared for the sight,
by the wilderness of columns. There are about a
thousand of them; and they formerly numbered twelve
hundred. Each of them is composed of a single stone,
and no two of them seem to be of the same order of
architecture. They come from different parts of the
globe; and therefore the marbles are of various kinds
and colors, from pure white to blood red. These
pillars form twenty–nine naves, or avenues, one way,
and nineteen the other. The roof is only forty feet
high, and the columns are only a fraction of this height.
They have no pedestal, and support a sort of double
arch, the upper one plain, and the lower a horseshoe;
indeed, this last looks like a huge horseshoe stretching
across below the loftier arch.
For an hour the party wandered about in the forest
of pillars, pausing at the _Mih–ràb_, or sanctuary of the
mosque, where was kept the copy of the Koran made by
Othman, the founder of the dynasty of that name. It
is still beautiful, but little of its former magnificence
remains; for the pulpit it contained is said to have
cost the equivalent of five millions of dollars.
“St. Ferdinand conquered Cordova in 1236; and
then the mosque was turned into a Christian church
without any great change,” said Dr. Winstock, as they
approached the choir in the centre of the mosque.
“The victors had the good sense and the good taste to
leave the building pretty much as they found it. But
three hundred years later the chapter of the church
built this choir, which almost ruins the interior effect
as we gaze upon it. The fine perspective is lost.
Sixty columns were removed to make room for the
choir. When Charles V. visited Cordova, and saw the
mischief the chapter had wrought, he was very angry,
and severely reproached the authors of it.”
The tourists looked into the high chapel, and glanced
at the forty–four others which surround the mosque.
Then they walked to the bridge over the Guadalquiver.
Arabian writers say it was built by Octavius Cæsar,
but it was entirely reconstructed by the Moors. An
old Moorish mill was pointed out; and the party
returned to the mosque to spend the rest of their time
in studying its marvellous workmanship. Early in the
afternoon the excursionists left for Seville, and arrived
in three hours. The journey was through a pleasant
country, affording them an occasional view of the
Guadalquiver.
[Illustration: “HE SIMPLY HELD OUT HIS HAND.” Page 356.]
“To my mind,” said Dr. Winstock, as the party
passed out of the _Hotel de Londres_ to the _Plaza Nueva_,
which is a small park in front of the City Hall,—“to
my mind Seville is the pleasantest city in Spain, I
have always been in love with it since I came here the
first time; and I have spent four months here altogether.
The air is perfectly delicious; and, though it
often rains, I do not remember a single rainy day.
The streets are clean, the houses are neat and pretty,
the people are polite, the ladies are beautiful,—which
is a consideration to a bachelor like myself,—and, if I
had to spend a year in any city of Europe, Seville
would be the place.”
“What is there to see here?” asked Murray. “I
should like a list of the sights to put in a letter I shall
write to–day.”
“The principal thing is the cathedral; then the
_Giralda_, the _Alcazar_, the tobacco–factory, the Palace of
San Telmo, the _Casa de Pilatos_.”
“That will do, doctor. I can’t put those things in
my letter,” interposed Murray.
“You may say ‘Pilate’s house’ for the last; and add
the _Calle de las Sierpes_, which is the most frequented
street of the city.”
“But I can’t spell the words.”
“It is not in good taste to translate the name of a
street; but it means ‘the street of the serpents.’ But I
think you had better wait till you have seen the sights,
before you attempt to describe them in your letter.”
“I will look them up in the guide–book, when I
write.”
“This is the _Calle de las Sierpes_,” continued the
doctor, as they entered a narrow street leading from
the _Plaza de la Constitucion_—nearly every Spanish city
has one with this name—in the rear of the City Hall.
“This is the business street of the town, and it is
generally crowded with people. Here are the retail
stores, the cafés, the post–office, and the principal
theatre.”
The students were interested in this street, it was so
full of life. The ends of it were barred so that no carriages
could enter it; and the whole pavement was a
sidewalk, as O’Hara would have expressed it. Passing
the theatre, they followed a continuation of the same
street.
“Do you notice the name of this street?” said the
doctor, as he pointed to the sign on a corner. “It is
the _Calle del Amor de Dios_. It is so near like the Latin
that you can tell what it means.”
“But it seems hardly possible that a street should
have such a name,—the ‘Street of the Love of God,’”
added Sheridan.
“That is just what it is; and it was given by reverent
men. There is also in this city the _Calle de Gesu_, or
Jesus Street; and the names of the Virgin and the
saints are applied in the same way.”
Passing through this street, the party came to the
_Alameda de Hercules_.
“The city has about the same history as most others
in the South of Spain,—Romans, Goths, Vandals,
Moors, Christians,” said the doctor. “But some of
the romancists ascribe its origin to Hercules; and this
_alameda_ is named after him. Now we will take a
closer view of one of the houses. You observe that
they differ from those of our cities. They are built on
the Moorish plan. What we call the front door is left
open all day. It leads into a vestibule; and on the
right and left are the entrances to the apartments.
Let us go in.”
“Is this a private house?” asked Sheridan, who
seemed to have some doubts about proceeding any
farther; but then the doctor astonished him by ringing
the bell, which was promptly answered by a voice inquiring
who was there.
“_Gentes de paz_” (peaceful people), replied the surgeon;
and this is the usual way to answer the question
in Spain.
It presently appeared that Dr. Winstock was acquainted
with the gentleman who lived in the house;
and he received a cordial welcome from him. The
young gentlemen were introduced to him, though he
did not speak English; and they were shown the house.
In the vestibule, directly opposite the front door, was
a pair of iron gates of open ornamental work, set in an
archway. A person standing in the street can look
through this gateway into the _patio_, or court of the
mansion. It was paved with marble, with a fountain in
the middle. It was surrounded with plants and flowers;
and here the family sit with their guests in summer, to
enjoy the coolness of the place. Thanking the host,
and promising to call in the evening, the surgeon left
with his pupils,—his “_pupilos_,” as he described them
to the gentleman.
After lunch the sight–seers went to the _Giralda_,
which is now the campanile or bell–tower of the cathedral.
It was built by the Moors in 1296 as a muezzin
tower, or place where the priest calls the faithful to
prayers, and was part of the mosque that stood on this
spot. It is square, and built of red brick, and is
crowned with a lofty spire. The whole height is three
hundred and fifty feet. To the top of this tower the
party ascended, and obtained a fine view of the city
and its surroundings,—so fine that they remained on
their lofty perch for three hours. They could look
down into the bull–ring, and trace the Guadalquiver for
many miles through the flat country. The doctor
pointed out all the prominent objects of interest; and
when they came down they had a very good idea of
Seville and its vicinity.
The next day, as Murray expressed it, they “commenced
work on the cathedral.” It is the handsomest
church in Spain, and some say in the world. It is the
enlargement of an old church made in the fifteenth
century. On the outside it looks like a miscellaneous
pile of buildings, with here and there a semicircular
chapel projecting into the area, and richly ornamented
with various devices. It is in the oblong form, three
hundred and seventy by two hundred and seventy feet,
not including the projecting chapels.
“Now we will enter by the west side,” said the
doctor, when they had surveyed the exterior of the vast
pile. “The _Giralda_ is on the other side. By the way,
did I tell you what this word meant?”
“You did not; but I supposed it was some saint,”
replied Sheridan.
“Not at all. It comes from the Spanish verb _girar_,
which means to turn or whirl; and from this comes
_Giralda_, a weathercock. The name is accidental, coming
probably from the vane on the top of it at some former
period,” continued the doctor as they entered the
cathedral. “The central nave is about one hundred
and twenty–five feet high; and here you get an idea of
the grandeur of the edifice. Here is the burial–place
of the son of Columbus. This slab in the pavement
contains his epitaph:—
FERNANDO COLON.
_Á Castilla, y á Leon
Nuevo mundo dío Colon._”
“_Hablo Español!_” exclaimed Murray. “And I
know what that means,—‘To Castile and Leon Columbus
gave a new world.’”
“It is in all the school–books, and you ought to know
it,” added Sheridan. “Colon means Columbus; but
what was his full name in Spanish?”
“Cristobal Colon. This son was quite an eminent
man, and gave his library to the chapter of this church.
Seville was the birthplace and the residence of Murillo;
and you will find many of his pictures in the
churches and other buildings.”
The party went into the royal chapel. The under
part of the altar is formed by the silver and glass
casket which contains the remains of St. Ferdinand,
nearly perfect. It is exhibited three days in the year;
and then the body lies dressed in royal robes, with the
crown on the head. The doctor pointed out the windows
of stained glass, of which there are ninety–three.
Nearly the whole day was spent in the church by those
of the students who had the taste to appreciate its
beautiful works of art. The next morning was devoted
to the _Alcazar_. It was the palace of the Moorish sovereigns
when Seville became the capital of an independent
kingdom. After the city was captured, St. Ferdinand
took up his quarters within it. Don Pedro the
Cruel repaired and rebuilt portions of it, and made it
his residence; and it was occupied by the subsequent
sovereigns as long as Seville was the capital of Spain.
Though the structure as it now stands was mainly
erected by Christian kings, its Arabian style is explained
by the fact that Moorish architects were employed in
the various additions and repairs.
It is very like the Alhambra, but inferior to it as a
whole. It contains apartments similar to those the
students had seen at Granada, and therefore was not
as interesting as it would otherwise have been. The
gardens of the palace were more to their taste. They
are filled with orange–trees and a variety of tropical
plants. The avenues are lined with box, and the
garden contains several small ponds. The walks near
the palace are underlaid with pipes perforated with
little holes, so that, when the water is let on, a continuous
line of fountains cools the air; and it is customary
to duck the visitors mildly as a sort of surprise.
The tobacco–factory is the next sight, and is located
opposite the gardens of the _Alcazar_. It is an immense
building used for the manufacture of cigars, cigarillos,
and smoking–tobacco. The article is a monopoly in
the hands of the Government; and many of the larger
cities have similar establishments, but none so large as
the one at Seville. At the time of which we write, six
thousand women were employed in making cigars, and
putting up papers of tobacco. Visitors go through the
works more to observe the operatives than to see the
process of making cigars; and the students were no
exception to the rule. Most of the females were old
and ugly, though many were young. Among them
were not a few gypsies, who could be distinguished by
their olive complexion.
These women all have to be searched before they
leave the building, to prevent them from stealing the
tobacco. Women are employed for this duty, who
become so expert in doing it that the operation is
performed in a very short time.
On the river, near the factory, is the palace of San
Telmo, the residence of the Duke de Montpensier, son
of Louis Philippe, who married the sister of the late
queen of Spain. It is a very unique structure, with an
elaborate portico in the centre of the front, rising one
story above the top of the palace, and surmounted
with a clock. It has a score of carved columns, and
as many statues. The rest of the building is quite
plain, which greatly increases the effect of the complicated
portico. The picture–gallery and the museums
of art in the palace are opened to the tourist, and they
richly repay the visit. Among the curiosities is the
guitar used by Isabella I., the sword of Pedro the
Cruel, and that of Fernando Gonzales. The building
was erected for a naval school, and was used as such for
a hundred and fifty years. It was presented by the
queen to her sister in 1849.
Leaving the palace, the party walked along the
quays by the river, till they came to the _Toro del Oro_,
or tower of gold. It was originally part of a Moorish
fortress; but now stands alone on the quay, and is
occupied as a steamboat–office. The Moors used it as
a treasure–house, and so did Pedro the Cruel. In the
time of Columbus it was a place of deposit for the
gold brought over by the fleets from the New World,
and landed here. It is said that more than eight million
ducats were often stored here.
Near this tower, is the hospital of _La Caridad_, or
charity. It was founded by a young nobleman who
had reformed his dissipated life, and passed the remainder
of it in deeds of piety in this institution. It
is a house of refuge for the poor and the aged. It
contains two beautiful _patios_, with the usual plants,
flowers, and fountains. The institution is something
on the plan of the Brotherhood of Pity in Florence;
and the young gentlemen of the city render service in
it in turn. The founder was an intimate friend of
Murillo, which accounts for the number of the great
artist’s pictures to be found in the establishment. Its
little church contains several of them. A singular
painting by another artist attracted the attention of
some of the students as a sensation in art. It represents
a dead prelate in full robes, lying in the tomb.
The body has begun to decay; and the worms are
feasting upon it, crawling in and out at the eyes, nose,
and mouth. It is a most disgusting picture, though
it may have its moral.
A day was given to the museum which contains
many of Murillo’s pictures, and next to that at Madrid
is the finest in Spain. The _Casa de Pilatos_ was visited
on the last day the excursionists were in Seville at this
time, though it happened that they came to the city a
second time. It belongs to the Duke of Medina Celi,
though he seldom occupies it. It is not the house of
Pilate, but only an imitation of it. It was built in the
sixteenth century, by the ancestors of the duke, some
of whom had visited the Holy Land. The _Patio_ is
large and is paved with white marble, with a checkered
border and other ornaments. In the centre is a
fountain, and in each corner is a colossal statue of a
goddess. Around it are two stories of galleries, with
fine arches and columns. The palace contains a beautiful
chapel, in which is a pillar made in imitation of
that to which Christ was bound when he was scourged.
On the marble staircase the guides point out a cock,
which is said to be in the place of the one that crowed
when Peter denied his Master; but of course this is
sheer tomfoolery, and it was lawful game for Murray,
who was the joker of the officers’ party.
On another day the doctor and his pupils walked
over the bridge to the suburb of Triana, where the
gypsies lived. They were hardly more civilized than
those seen at Granada. Then, as the order was not
given for the departure, they began to see some of the
sights a second time; and many of them will bear
repeated visits. During a second examination of the
_Alcazar_, Dr. Winstock told them many stories of Pedro
the Cruel, of Don Fadrique, of Blanche of Bourbon,
and of Maria de Padilla, which we have not the space
to repeat, but which are more interesting than most of
the novels of the day. After the ship’s company had
been in Seville five days, the order was given to leave
at quarter before six; and the party arrived at Cadiz
at ten.
This city is located nearly on the point of a tongue
of land which encloses a considerable bay; and, when
the train had twenty miles farther to go, the students
could see the multitude of lights that glittered like
stars along the line of the town. Cadiz is a commercial
place, was colonized by the Phœnicians, and they
supposed it to be about at the end of the earth. They
believed that the high bluff at Gibraltar, which was
called Calpe, and Abyla at Ceuta in Africa, were part
of the same hill, rent asunder by Hercules; and they
erected a column on each height, which are known
as the Pillars of Hercules. Cadiz was held by the
Romans and the Moors in turn, and captured by the
Spaniards in 1262. After the discovery of America, it
shared with Seville the prosperity which followed that
event; and the gold and merchandise were brought to
these ports. Its vast wealth caused it to be often
attacked by the pirates of Algiers and Morocco; the
English have twice captured it, and twice failed to do
so; and it was the civil and military headquarters of
the Spaniards during the peninsular war. When the
American colonies of Spain became independent, it
lost much of its valuable commerce, and has not
been what it was in the last century since the French
Revolution.
The boats of the American Prince, in charge of the
forward officers and a squad of firemen and stewards,
were on the beach near the railroad station; and the
ship’s company slept on board that night. The next
day was devoted to Cadiz. The cathedral is a modern
edifice and a beautiful church, though the tourist who
had been to Toledo and Seville does not care to give
much of his time to it. In the Capuchin Monastery,
to which the doctor took his pupils, is the last picture
painted by Murillo. It is the Marriage of St. Catharine,
and is painted on the wall over the high altar of
the chapel. Before it was quite finished, Murillo fell
from the scaffold, was fatally injured, and died soon
after. The picture was finished by one of his pupils,
at his request.
There are no other sights to be seen in Cadiz;
but the students were very much pleased with the place.
Its public buildings are large and massive; its white
dwellings are pretty; and its squares and walks on the
seashore are very pleasant. By the kindness of the
banker, the club–house was opened to the party.
“I am rather sorry we do not go to Xeres,” said the
doctor, when they were seated in the reading–room.
“I supposed we should stop there on our way from
Seville. I wished to take you into the great wine–vaults.
I think you know what the place is noted for.”
“_Vino del Xeres_,” replied Murray,—“Sherry wine.”
“It is made exclusively in this place; and its peculiarity
comes from the kind of grapes and method
of manufacture. The business here is in the hands
of English, French, and German people, who far
surpass the Spaniards in the making of wine. The
immense cellars and store–houses where the wine is
kept are well worth seeing, though they are not
encouraging to men with temperance principles. The
place has forty thousand inhabitants, and is the _Xeres
de la Frontera_, where Don Roderick was overwhelmed
by the Moors, and the Gothic rule in Spain was
ended.”
“Seville is a larger place than Cadiz, isn’t it?”
asked Sheridan.
“More than twice as large. Seville is the third city
of Spain, having one hundred and fifty–two thousand
inhabitants; while Cadiz is the ninth, with only seventy–two
thousand.”
The party returned to the steamer; and the next
morning she sailed for Malaga, where the Josephines
and Tritonias had arrived before them. The fleet immediately
departed for Gibraltar, and in five hours was
at anchor off the Rock.