The Alhambra / being a brief record of the Arabian conquest of the Peninsula with a particular account of the Mohammedan architecture and decoration

by Albert Frederick Calvert

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

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

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

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

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

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.”

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

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.

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]

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.

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?

The circumstances which attended the growth of the Spanish nation, and the expulsion of the Moor, were necessarily productive of an over-zealous spirit—a spirit which is ever the inevitable consequence of subjugation in the name of heaven, and under the immediate influence of religious feeling. How, then, could it fail to manifest itself in the Spaniards, who, only by a war lasting seven centuries, recovered their own country from the hands of the Moslem—the bitterest foes of the Christian religion—usurpers who justified their violence by retorting the opprobrious epithet “Infidels” upon the natives? A contest, so fierce and abiding, must have inseparably connected, in the minds of the Spaniards, every idea of honour with orthodoxy, and all that is discreditable and odious, with dissent from their creed. Small wonder, then, need be expressed that the degradation of the Alhambra dates from the very day of the Castilian Conquest, on which the removal of Moslem symbols commenced. Have we not seen the same principles rampant in England at the time of the Reformation, and again, throughout Puritan times; although, in our own case, the unreasonable iconoclasts professed the same faith?

The grievous vandalism begun by Ferdinand and Isabella was carried on by their grandson, Charles V., who despoiled the palace, on an even more gigantic scale, of those artistic glories which he looked upon as “the ugly abominations of the Moor.” He attempted the impossible: he modernized and rebuilt portions of the Alhambra, put up heavy ceilings, blocked up old passages, or constructed new, and sought to convert the palace of an Oriental sybarite into a residence for a Western monarch. All was in vain: the last royal residents were Philip V. and his beautiful Queen, Elizabetta of Parma, early in the eighteenth century. Although great preparations were made for their reception, the stay of the sovereigns was but transient; and, after their departure, the place once more became desolate.

During the Peninsular War, when Granada was in the hands of the French, the Alhambra was garrisoned by their troops, and the palace was occasionally inhabited by the French commander. Washington Irving maintains that “with that enlightened taste which has ever distinguished the French nation—this monument of Moorish elegance and grandeur was rescued from the absolute ruin and desolation that were overwhelming it. The roofs were repaired, the saloons and galleries protected from the weather, the gardens cultivated, the water-courses restored, the fountains once more made to throw up their sparkling showers; and Spain may thank her invaders for having preserved to her the most beautiful and interesting of her historical monuments.... On the departure of the French, they blew up several towers of the outer wall, and left the fortifications untenable,” &c. This last act may well have been one of military exigence; but, on the other hand, Ford entirely disagrees with Irving, and asserts, with all the vigour of an extinct species of Tory John Bull, that the French are responsible for the most wanton destruction perpetrated during their occupancy. Whatever the truth may be, we confess to a strong fellow-feeling with the kindly American genius who has done so much to retard the decay of the edifice, which is still preserved to adorn the land, and attract the curious of every clime.

For centuries the antiquities of the Spanish Arabs continued disregarded or unknown. Prejudice—that sad inheritance of nations—was, alas! only too actively employed in demolishing the work of the polished and enlightened people, whose occupation of the Peninsula it was accounted piety to efface. It was not until the end of the eighteenth century that steps were taken to explore and protect the remains of Moorish monuments in Spain; when, in consequence of representations of cultured Spaniards, the Government commissioned the Royal Academy of St. Ferdinand to send two architects and an officer of Engineers to report upon the condition, and make drawings of the Palace of the Alhambra and the Mosque at Córdova. The result of their labours was published at Madrid, 1780, in an illustrated folio volume entitled Antigüedades Arabes de España.

It is only by the union of the graphic art with descriptions that we can hope to form an accurate estimate of the high state of excellence to which the Mohammedans in Spain attained in the Fine Arts while the rest of Europe was overwhelmed with ignorance and barbarism. The coin, for instance, represented on the opposite page is of fine gold, and is an example of art which would not dishonour a medallist of any epoch. The existence of a Royal Mint within the Alhambra may be admitted when we learn that the coin was struck by order of the Founder of the Alhambra, Mohammed I., surnamed Al-Ghalib-Billah—the Conqueror—who reigned in Granada from 1232 to 1272 A.D. The coin is one of the most cherished possessions in the cabinet of Alfonso XIII., King of Spain, at Madrid.