Before these carvings kneel real likenesses of the royal couple in wood, and on the massive[page 356] square tomb in front they repose in alabaster. A fellow-tomb by their side has been raised to the memory of their immediate successors. In the sacristry are to be seen the very robes of Cardinal Mendoza, and his missal, with the sceptre and jewel-case of Isabella, and the sword of Ferdinand, while that of the conquered Bû Abd Allah is on view elsewhere. Here, too, are the standards unfurled on the day of the recapture, January 2, 1492, and a picture full of interest, recording the adieux of "Boabdil" and Ferdinand, who, after their bitter contest, have shaken hands and are here falling on each other's necks.
As a model of Moorish art, the palace of Granáda, commenced in 1248, is a monument of its latest and most refined period. The heavy and comparatively simple styles of Córdova and Sevílle are here amplified and refined, the result being the acme of elegance and oriental taste. This I say from personal acquaintance with the temples of the far East, although those present a much more gorgeous appearance, and are much more costly erections, evincing a degree of architectural ability and the possession of hoards of wealth beside which what the builders of the Alhambra could boast of was insignificant; nor do I attempt to compare these interesting relics with the equally familiar immensity of ancient masonry, or with the magnificent work of the Middle Ages still existing in Europe. These monuments hold a place of their own, unique and unassailable. They are the mementoes of an era in the history of Europe, not only of the Peninsula, and the interest which attaches itself to them even on this score alone[page 357] is very great. As relics on a foreign soil, they have stood the storms of five centuries under the most trying circumstances, and the simplicity of their components lends an additional charm to the fabric. They are to a great extent composed of what are apparently the weakest materials—mud, gypsum, and wood; the marble and tiles are but adornments.
From without the appearance of the palace has been well described as that of "reddish cork models rising out of a girdle of trees." On a closer inspection the "cork" appears like red sandstone, and one wonders how it has stood even one good storm. There is none of that facing of stone which gives most other styles of architecture an appearance of durability, and whatever facing of plaster it may once have possessed has long since disappeared. But inside all is different. Instead of crumbling red walls, the courts and apartments are highly ornamented with what we now call plaster-of-Paris, but which the Moors have long prepared by roasting the gypsum in rude kilns, calling it "gibs."
A full description of each room or court-yard would better become a guide-book, and to those who have the opportunity of visiting the spot, I would recommend Ford's incomparable "Handbook to Spain," published by Murray, the older the edition the better. To those who can read Spanish, the "Estudio descriptivo de los Monumentos arabes," by the late Sr. Contreras (Government restorer of the Moorish remains in Spain), to be obtained in Granáda, is well worth reading. Such information as a visitor would need to correct the mistaken impressions of these and other writers[page 358] ignorant of Moorish usages as to the original purpose of the various apartments, I have embodied in Macmillan's "Guide to the Western Mediterranean."
Certain points, however, either for their architectural merit or historic interest, cannot be passed over. Such is the Court of the Lions, of part of which a model disfigured by garish painting may be seen at the Crystal Palace. In some points it is resembled by the chief court of the mosque of the Karûeeïn at Fez. In the centre is that strange departure from the injunctions of the Korán which has given its name to the spot, the alabaster fountain resting on the loins of twelve beasts, called, by courtesy, "lions." They remind one rather of cats. "Their faces barbecued, and their manes cut like the scales of a griffin, and the legs like bed-posts; a water-pipe stuck in their mouths does not add to their dignity." In the inscription round the basin above, among flowery phrases belauding the fountain, and suggesting that the work is so fine that it is difficult to distinguish the water from the alabaster, the spectator is comforted with the assurance that they cannot bite!
The court is surrounded by the usual tiled verandah, supported by one hundred and twenty-two light and elegant white marble pillars, the arches between which show some eleven different forms. At each end is a portico jutting out from the verandahs, and four cupolas add to the appearance of the roofs. The length of the court is twice its width, which is sixty feet, and on each side lies a beautiful decorated apartment with the unusual additions of jets of water from the floor in the[page 359] centre of each, as also before each of the three doors apiece of the long narrow Moorish rooms, and under the two porticoes. The overflows, instead of being hidden pipes, are channels in the marble pavement, for the Moors were too great lovers of rippling water to lose the opportunity as we cold-blooded northerners would.
To fully realize the delights of such a place one must imagine it carpeted with the products of Rabat, surrounded by soft mattresses piled with cushions, and with its walls hung with a dado of dark-coloured felt cloths of various colours, interworked to represent pillars and arches such as surround the gallery, and showing up the beautiful white of the marble by contrast. Thus furnished—in true Moorish style—the place should be visited on a hot summer's day, after a wearisome toil up the hill from the town. Then, lolling among the cushions, and listening to the splashing water, if strong sympathy is not felt with the builders of the palace, who thought it a paradise, the visitor ought never to have left his armchair by the fire-side at home.
If, instead of wasting money on re-plastering the walls until they look ready for papering, and then scratching geometrical designs upon them in a style no Moor ever dreamed of, the Spanish Government would entrust a Moor of taste to decorate it in his own native style, without the modern European additions, they would do far better and spend less. One step further, and the introduction of Moorish guides and caretakers who spoke Spanish—easy to obtain—would add fifty per cent. to the interest of the place. Then fancy the Christian and Muslim knights meeting in single combat on the plains beneath those[page 360] walls. People once more the knolls and pastures with the turban and the helm, fill in the colours of robe and plume; oh, what a picture it would make!
Doubtless similar apartments for the hareem exist in the recesses of the palaces of Fez, Mequinez, Marrákesh and Rabat. Some very fine work is to be seen in the comparatively public parts, in many respects equalling this, and certainly better than that of the palace of Sevílle. Various alterations and "restorations" have been effected from time to time in this as in other parts of the palace, notably in the fountain, the top part of which is modern. It is probable that originally there was only one basin, resting immediately on the "lions" below. Its date is given as 1477 a.d.
The room known for disputed reasons as the Hall of the Two Sisters was originally a bedroom. The entrance is one of the most elaborate in the palace, and its wooden ceiling, pieced to resemble stalactites, is a charming piece of work, as also are those of the other important rooms of the palace.