To the antiquary the most interesting part of Granáda is the Albaycin, the quarter lying highest up the valley of the Darro, originally peopled by refugees from the town of Baeza—away to the north, beyond Jaen—the Baïseeïn. As the last stronghold of Moorish rule in the Peninsula, when one by one the other cities, once its rivals, fell into the hands of the Christians again, Granáda became a centre of refuge from all parts, and to this owed much of its ultimate importance.
Unfortunately no attempt has been made to preserve the many relics of that time which still exist in this quarter, probably the worst in the town. Many owners of property in the neighbourhood can still display the original Arabic title deeds, their estates having been purchased by Spanish grandees from the expelled Moors, or later from the expelled Jews. A morning's tour will reveal much of interest in back alleys and ruined courts. One visitor alone is hardly safe among the wild half-gipsy lot who dwell there now, but a few copper coins are all the keys needed to gain admission to some fine old patios with marble columns, crumbling fandaks, and ruined baths. By the[page 366] roadside may be seen the identical style of water-mill still used in Morocco, and the presence of the Spaniard seems a dream.
V. Hither and Thither
Having now made pilgrimages to the more famous homes of the Moor in Europe, let us in fancy take an aërial flight over sunny Spain, and glance here and there at the scattered traces of Muslim rule in less noted quarters. Everything we cannot hope to spy, but we may still surprise ourselves and others by the number of our finds. Even this task accomplished, a volume on the subject might well be written by a second Borrow or a Ford, whose residence among the modern Moors had sharpened his scent for relics of that ilk.[*] Let not the reader think that with these wayside jottings all has been disclosed, for the Moor yet lives in Spain, and there is far more truth in the saying that "Barbary begins at the Pyrenees" than is generally imagined.
We will start from Tarifa, perhaps the most ancient town of Andalucia. The Moors named this ancient Punic city after T'arîf ibn Málek ("The Wise, son of King"), a Berber chief. They beleaguered it about 1292, and it is still enclosed by Moorish walls. The citadel, a genuine Moorish castle, lies just within these walls, and was not so long ago the abode of galley-slaves. Close to Sevílle, where the river Guadalquivir branches off,[page 367] it forms two islands—Islas Mayor y Menor. The former was the Kaptal of the Moors. At Coria the river winds under the Moorish "Castle of the Cleft" (El Faraj), now called St. Juan de Alfarache, and passes near the Torre del Oro, a monument of the invader already referred to. Old Xeres, of sherry fame, is a straggling, ill-built, ill-drained Moorish city. It was taken from the Moors in 1264. Part of the original walls and gates remain in the old town. The Moorish citadel is well preserved, and offers a good specimen of those turreted and walled palatial fortresses.
But it is not till we reach Sevílle that we come to a museum of Moorish antiquities. Here we see Arabesque ceilings, marqueterie woodwork, stucco panelling, and the elegant horse-shoe arches. There are beautiful specimens in the citadel, in Calle Pajaritos No. 15, in the Casa Prieto and elsewhere. The Moors possessed the city for five hundred years, during which time they entirely rebuilt it, using the Roman buildings as materials. Many Moorish houses still exist, the windows of which are barricaded with iron gratings. On each side of the patios, or courts, are corridors supported by marble pillars, whilst a fountain plays in the centre. These houses are rich in Moorish porcelain tilings, called azulejos—from the Arabic ez-zulaïj—but the best of these are in the patio of the citadel. Carmona is not far off, with its oriental walls and castle, famous as ever for its grateful springs. The tower of San Pedro transports us again to Tangier, as do the massy walls and arched gate.
Some eight leagues on the way to Badajos from Sevílle rises a Moorish tower, giving to the adjoining[page 368] village the name of Castillo de las Guardias. Five leagues beyond are the mines of the "Inky River"—Rio Tinto—a name sufficiently expressive and appropriate, for it issues from the mountain-side impregnated with copper, and is consequently corrosive. The Moors seem to have followed the Romans in their workings on the north side of the hill. Further on are more mines, still proclaiming the use the Moors made of them by their present name Almádin—"the Mine"—a name which has almost become Spanish; it is still so generally used. Five leagues from Rio Tinto, at Aracena, is another Moorish castle, commanding a fine panorama, and the belfry of the church hard by is Arabesque.
Many more of these ruined kasbahs are to be seen upon the heights of Andalucia, and even much further north; but the majority must go unmentioned. One, in an equally fine position, is to be seen eleven leagues along the road from Sevílle to Badajos, above Santa Olalla—a name essentially Moorish, denoting the resting-place of some female Mohammedan saint, whose name has been lost sight of. (Lallah, or "Lady," is the term always prefixed to the names of canonized ladies in Morocco.) Three leagues from Sevílle on the Granáda road, at Gandul, lies another of these castles, picturesquely situated amid palms and orange groves; four leagues beyond, the name Arahal (er-rahálah—"the day's journey") reminds the Arabicist that it is time to encamp; a dozen leagues further on the name of Roda recalls its origin, raôdah, "the cemetery." Riding into Jaen on the top of the diligence from Granáda, I was struck with the familiar appearance of two brown tabia fortresses above the[page 369] town, giving the hillside the appearance of one of the lower slopes of the Atlas. This was a place after the Moors' own heart, for abundant springs gush everywhere from the rocks. In their days it was for a time the capital of an independent kingdom.
At Ronda, a town originally built by the Moors—for Old Ronda is two leagues away to the north,—their once extensive remains have been all but destroyed. Its tortuous streets and small houses, however, testify as to its origin, and its Moorish castle still appears to guard the narrow ascent by which alone it can be reached from the land, for it crowns a river-girt rock. Down below, this river, the Guadalvin, still turns the same rude class of corn-mills that we have seen at Fez and Granáda. Other remnants are another Moorish tower in the Calle del Puente Viejo, and the "House of the Moorish King" in Calle San Pedro, dating from about 1042. Descending to the river's edge by a flight of stairs cut in the solid rock, there is a grotto dug by Christian slaves three centuries later. Some five leagues on the road thence to Granáda are the remains of the ancient Teba, at the siege of which in 1328, when it was taken from the Moors, Lord James Douglas fought in obedience to the dying wish of the Bruce his master, whose heart he wore in a silver case hung from his neck, throwing it among the enemy as he rushed in and fell.
On the way from Ronda to Gibraltar are a number of villages whose Arab names are startling even in this land of Ishmaelitish memories. Among these are Atajate, Gaucin, Benahali, Benarraba,[page 370] Benadalid, Benalaurin. At Gaucin an excellent view of Gibraltar and Jibel Mûsa is obtainable from its Moorish citadel. This brings us to old "Gib," whose relics of Tárîk and his successors are much better known to travellers than most of those minor remains. An inscription over the gate of the castle, now a prison, tells of its erection over eleven centuries ago, for this was naturally one of the early captures of the invaders. Yet the mud-concrete walls stand firm and sound, though scarred by many a shot. Algeciras—El Jazîrah—"the Island" has passed through too many vicissitudes to have much more than the name left.