Part 9

as well as for the healthfulness of the air, which is continually refreshed by running streams of limpid water. This garden is only separated from the royal residence by a high and strong wall, defended by a deep moat. In this place the Sultán was suddenly awakened by the clatter of arms, the cries of the assailants, and the beating of drums in the distance. Not knowing what caused the tumult, Mohammed went out in the direction of the Alhambra; but, finding that the conspirators occupied all the avenues, he retraced his steps, and Allah was pleased to provide for his salvation; for, having mounted a fleet horse, which was always kept saddled and prepared for him, he galloped off to Guadix, where he arrived safely the same morning, and presented himself to the governor of the castle, who was very far from suspecting what had happened. Mohammed was immediately waited upon by the chief inhabitants of the place who all swore to protect him, so that he not only reigned undisturbed over Guadix and its immediate neighbourhood, but soon found himself at the head of devoted followers who hastened to him from all parts.”

Meanwhile, his brother, the usurper, despatched an embassy to the King of Castile, offering to renew the treaty of peace then existing between the two countries. The Castilian King (Pedro I.), happening then to be at war with the people of Barcelona, readily assented to the proposal, and ratified the usurper’s occupation of Granada. Isma’il, however, did not long enjoy the power he had seized. He was besieged in the Alhambra by Abú ’Abdillah, afterwards Mohammed VI., taken prisoner, and put to death, together with his brother, Kayes, in 1360.

The history of the dethroned king, Mohammed V., is particularly interesting for the reason that he it was who put the finishing touches to the decoration of the Alhambra, after the work was interrupted by the assassination of his father, Yúsuf I.

Immediately upon the death of Isma’il, Mohammed VI. was proclaimed king, and reigned for about two years, at the end of which period, seeing himself pressed on the one side by the rightful sovereign who burned to revenge the outrage done to him and recover the throne of his ancestors; and harassed, on the other hand, by Pedro, King of Castile; he formed the strange

resolution of throwing himself upon the protection of the latter, and repairing to his Court. “He might just as well,” says the Wizír, “have thrown himself into the jaws of a hungry tiger thirsting for blood, for no sooner had the infidel dog cast his eyes on the countless treasures which Mohammed and his chiefs had brought with them, than he conceived the wicked design of murdering them and appropriating their riches; on the second day of Rejeb, 763 (April 27, A.D. 1362) he was put to death with all his followers, at a place called Tablada, close to Seville.”

But to return to the dethroned Sultán, Mohammed V., whose history is highly romantic.

The people of Guadix continued their allegiance, protected his person, and swore to devote their lives to his cause. Pedro was but lukewarm in his behalf; and Mohammed, obtaining only vague promises from the Christian King, crossed over to Fez at the invitation of the Sultán of Western Africa (_Ibnu-l-Khattíb_, in his life of Mohammed V., gives the details of

this journey), and made a public entrance into Fez, where he was received with every mark of distinction.

After a long sojourn with the Sultán, Mohammed returned to Andalus in great state with a large number of followers, his adherents greatly increasing on his arrival at Guadix. All ranks flocked to his standard, the presence of the long-absent and popular sovereign infusing new vigour amongst the troops. The whole of the _Gharbia_, or Western districts, submitted to him. He was then enabled to take Malaga and to march upon Granada, which surrendered without opposition, and he thus saw himself once again in possession of his dominions. His triumphant entry into Granada took place April 6th, A.D. 1362, immediately before the death of the usurper, Mohammed VI., at the hands of King Pedro.

Mohammed V. reigned until the year 1391, when he was succeeded by his son, Yúsuf II.

* * * * *

To reach the summer resort of the Moorish Kings from the Alhambra, the better way is to leave the Palace by the _Torre del Picos_--Tower of the Peaks, or minarets--and thus approach the tall white towers and long arcades of the Generalife. To wander amidst its gardens and groves in the most sultry season is to enjoy a still more breezy region than that of the Alhambra.

The Generalife is a confluence of waters: the canal of the Darro empties its full virgin stream, and at times boils under evergreen arches through the Acequia Court.[14] In contemplation of its beauty, the present is forgotten in the past; old-world echoes still reverberate through the bemyrtled Courts, where the many flowers which enamel its terraces and aqueducts tranquilly attest that once a garden smiled:

“Cypress and ivy, weed and wall-flower grown Matted and mass’d together, hillocks heap’d On what were chambers, arch crush’d, column strown In fragments, chok’d up vaults, and frescos steep’d In subterranean damps, where the owl peep’d, Deeming it midnight: Temples, baths, or halls? Pronounce who can; for all that Learning reap’d From her research hath been, that these are walls--” _Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage_, Canto IV.

What is pointed out as “the trysting place of the Sultána,” is a grove of cypress trees, enormous in their proportions, and old as the Moors themselves. The beautiful Zoraya, surnamed “The Morning Star,” to whom reference has been already made, is said to have been discovered under their spreading branches with her lover, the Abencerrage, but this is a calumny of the _Romanceros_, and they are false witnesses. The tradition is, but with little to substantiate it, that the Sultána was condemned to be burnt alive, if,

within thirty days, she did not produce four knights to defend her cause against her four accusers. The fatal day arrived; no knights appeared, when, just at the supreme moment, there came upon the scene Don Juan de Chacon, Lord of Carthagena (whom she had implored to become her champion) accompanied by three other Christian knights, all in Saracenic armour. They fought and conquered, and the last of the conspirators, with his dying breath, confessed his invention of the false charge against the Abencerrage and the innocent Sultána.

The reader who is desirous of perusing the circumstantial narrative of this supposed transaction may be referred to the late Mr. Henry Swinburne’s account in his _Travels in Spain_, while Mr. Peyron, in his _Essays on Spain_, has given a translation of an Arabian document purporting to be an official report concerning it.

Upon the naked summit of the height above the Generalife are some shapeless ruins, known as the _Silla del Moro_--the seat of the Moor--said to have been a point of observation of Boabdil, the Unlucky, while an insurrection was raging in the city below. An apocryphal portrait of Boabdil, _El Rey Chico_, hangs in the picture gallery of the Generalife. The face is mild, handsome, and somewhat melancholy, with a fair complexion and yellow hair. Other indifferent paintings are to be seen in the gallery, including those of Ferdinand and Isabella. The genealogical tree of the Marquis of Campotejar of the Grimalda Gentili family, better known as Pallavicini, of Genoa, is exhibited in the picture gallery. The villa now belongs to the Marquis, who, being an absentee, has placed the palace under the care of an _administrador_. The founder of the Grimaldi family was one Cidi Aya, a Moorish prince, who was of service to Ferdinand on the expulsion of the Moors, at which time he became a Christian knight under the name of Don Pedro. His son, Don Aixa, is represented in the pedigree hanging in the picture gallery, trampling, like a renegade, on the ensigns of his ancestors. An enormous weapon, traditionally known as “The Sword of Boabdil,” having a beautifully enamelled sheath enriched with gold and silver work, is preserved in the office of the Italian Consulate at Granada.

The decorations of the Generalife are in no respect inferior to those of the Alhambra; the wood-work is of _nogal_, or Spanish chestnut, and, where it has not been wantonly injured, is in its original condition. It is thought that the Moors preserved their wood-work by coating it with a substance called

_colle_ and _almaqu_, _i.e._, size mixed with a reddish earth, and rendered obnoxious to insects. The black lines which ornament the wood-work are believed to have been traced with a hot iron.

Nothing can exceed the symmetry of the Portico of the Generalife. The columns are of white marble, surmounted by arches and arabesques. The inscription, many times repeated, and running along the whole front of the Portico, is that which occurs so frequently in the Alhambra, “There is no conqueror but God.” The dado has a very rich effect, the colours being black, blue, gold, scarlet, and green.

The transverse section of the Royal Villa, shown in the plate at p. 411, gives an idea of the beauty of the interior decorations. The ceiling of the chief apartment is a _chef-d’œuvre_ of Arabian workmanship; the exquisite delicacy and consummate taste displayed by the artist must be seen before a full appreciation can be acquired. The ceiling is delineated at p. 425.

The Acequia Court reminds the observer of the Court of the Fishpond; or of Myrtles, in the Alhambra. Although of no such great dimensions, similar arcades, galleries, and fountains, are here seen in profusion. The slender pillars and gossamer-perforated fabrics are, as in the case of the greater Palace, like nothing so much as our conception of fairy-work, rather a dream of beauty than the production of human hands.

LA CASA DEL CARBON--THE CHARCOAL HOUSE.

Halfway down the Zacatin, which was, in Moorish times, the bazaar, or market, of Granada--then alive with busy silversmiths, and with silk merchants, who offered the most wondrous productions of the loom--stands whatever remains of the elegant palace known as the Charcoal House, from having been appropriated to the sale of that commonplace article. The edifice, until recent times, bore the name by which it had been known for centuries, viz.: _La Casa del Gallo de Viento_--The Weather-cock House.

There is a tradition that the palace was built by Bàdìs Ibn Hàbus, the third Sultàn of Granada of the Zeyrite dynasty, about 1070 A.D., by whose direction a vane was made in the

shape of a warrior mounted on a steed, with a shield and levelled spear in his hands. _Al-makkarì_ tells us that he read in the manuscript of a learned Moorish historian the following anecdote concerning it: “I was told by the _Faquih Sìdì Hasan_ ... that he was present at the taking down of the talisman, known as the weather-cock, which once stood on the top of the old _Kassabah_--fortified enclosure--at Granada, and was removed on account of the improvements and repairs about to be made in that building. I saw it with my own eyes; it was of heptagonal shape, and bore the following Arabic inscription in verse:

“The palace at fair Granada presents to the eye of the observer a talisman turning round with the succession of time.

“The horseman on its weather-cock, although a solid body, turns with every wind.

“This to the wise man, reveals many a mystery.

“Indeed, after subsisting a short time, a calamity shall come which shall ruin both the palace and its owner.

“Thus shall Andalus vanish one day!”

The archway-entrance to the _Casa del Carbon_ is very richly decorated, as may be seen by the illustration at p. 443, but the interior has been greatly interfered with and disfigured. Below, is a subterranean passage, said to communicate with the Alhambra; but the Duke d’Abrantes, who owned the _Casa_, regarded such means of communication as “uncanny,” and blocked up the passage. An inspection of the Arabic title-deeds to this interesting property, which are still extant, would amply repay the pains of conveyancing amateurs.

LA CASA SANCHEZ--THE HOUSE OF SANCHEZ.

La Casa Sanchez, so-called from having been the dwelling of an honest muleteer of that name, was once one of the most picturesque and most Moorish of dwellings. But, alas! in the year 1837, the whole front was “restored” and “beautified,” and an ancient fish-pond, similar to that of the Court of Myrtles, was filled up and converted into a garden by one of the resident officers of the Palace. The ruthless _empleado_, who caused the Moorish doors of the Hall of the Abencerrages to be sawn asunder, permitted also this outrage by a man of equal

taste with himself, who ruined the little architectural gem. The ruin yet offers a specimen of minute and beautiful _tarkish_--stucco-work--that even the lovely examples of the Alhambra itself cannot surpass. An illustration at p. 445, from a drawing of about the year 1830, ’ere the spoiler came, will give an idea of the departed beauty of the jewelled building.

[BLANKPAGE] [Illustration: ELEVATION OF THE CASA DEL CARBON, OR “HOUSE OF CARBON,” ONCE KNOWN AS THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHER-COCK.]

[BLANKPAGE] APPENDIX.

Moresco-Spanish Ballads.

Selected from the Translations of John Gibson Lockhart.

Lockhart’s intention was to furnish the English reader with some notion of that old Spanish minstrelsy preserved in the different _Cancioneros_ and _Romanceros_ of the Sixteenth Century; he owns, however, than only a Spaniard can achieve for his native _chansons_ what Percy, Ellis, or Ritson has done for English ballads. Until such a Spanish editor arises, it seems impossible to determine to what period the composition of the oldest Spanish ballads now extant ought to be referred.

The first collection of romantic Spanish ballads, that of Ferdinand de Castillo, was published so early as 1510; and, as the title of the book declares that the volume contains the ancient and modern songs of the Troubadours of Spain, it is clear that a certain number of the pieces were then considered ancient. There are not wanting circumstances which would seem to establish for many of the Spanish ballads a claim to antiquity much higher than is to be inferred from this date; for, in the _General Chronicle of Spain_, which was compiled in the fourteenth century at the instance of Alfonso the Wise, allusions are constantly made to the popular songs of the minstrels, or _Joglares_. One thing is certain, that the Spaniards are in possession of the oldest, as well as the largest, collection of _popular_ ballad poetry, properly so called, than is to be found in the literature of any other European nation; and Lockhart very pertinently puts the enquiry, “Had there been published at London, in the reign of our eighth Henry, a vast collection of English ballads about the wars of the Plantagenets, what illustration and annotation would not that collection have received ere now?”

It is fair, perhaps, to conclude that a great and remarkable influence was exerted over Spanish thought and feeling--and, therefore, over Spanish language and poetry--by the influx of those Oriental tribes who occupied, for long centuries, the fairest provinces of Spain; particularly when it is remembered that the Christian youth studied freely and honourably at the feet of Jewish and Mohammedan philosophers.

Throughout the oldest Spanish ballads there breathes a spirit of charity towards their Moorish enemies, for, in spite of adverse faith, in spite of adverse interests, they had much in common. Loves, and sports--nay, sometimes their haughtiest recollections--were in common; and even their heroes were the same: Bernardo del Carpio, Fernan Gonzalez, the Cid himself, had, at some period of their lives, fought beneath the standard of the Crescent, and the minstrels of either nation had equal pride in the celebration of their prowess. Even in the ballads most exclusively devoted to the records of feats of Spanish heroism, it is quite common to find some handsome compliment paid to the Moors. And when, at a later period, the conquest of Granada had mingled the Spaniards with the persons and manners of the Moors, the Spanish ballad-mongers still celebrated the achievements of their Saracen rivals; and the compliment towards “the Knights of Granada, gentlemen, albeit Moors,”

_Caballeros Granadinos_ _Aunque Moros hijos d’algo_,

must have been extremely gratifying to the defeated.

The ballads of Moorish origin are rather of the romantic than the historical class. They were sung in the villages of Andalusia in either language, but to the same tunes, and listened to with equal pleasure by Mussulman and Christian. In these strains, says Lockhart, whatever merits or demerits they may possess, they present a lively picture of the life of the Arabian Spaniard. We see him as he was in reality, “like steel among weapons--like wax among women.”

There came, indeed, a time when the fondness of the Spaniards for their Moorish ballads was made a matter of reproach; but this was not till long after the period when Spanish bravery had recovered the last fragments of the Peninsula from the Moslem.

The greater part of the Moorish ballads refer to the period immediately preceding, and at the time of the downfall of the throne of Granada. The amours of that splendid court; the bull fights, and other spectacular displays in which its lords and ladies delighted no less than those of the Christian courts of Spain; the feuds of the two great families of the Zegris and the Abencerrages, which contributed so largely to the ruin of the Moorish cause; and the incidents of the last war, in which the power of the Moslem was entirely overthrown by the arms of Ferdinand and Isabella.

The ballad, composed on the departure from Granada of the Moors, is a specimen of romantic minstrelsy which has never depended on historic truth. The allusion in the third stanza to the old white beard of the Moorish king seems to favour the conjecture that “Muley Hasen,” and not his son Boabdil, surrendered the keys of the fortress.

“THE FLIGHT FROM GRANADA.”

There was crying in Granada when the sun was going down-- Some calling on the Trinity--some calling on Mahoun! Here passed away the Korán--there in the Cross was borne-- And here was heard the Christian bell, and there the Moorish horn;

_Te Deum Laudamus!_ was up the Alcala sung: Down from th’ Alhambra’s minarets were all the crescents flung; The arms thereon of Aragon they with Castile’s display; One king comes in in triumph--one weeping goes away!

Thus cried the weeper, while his hands his old white beard did tear, “Farewell, farewell, Granada! thou city without peer! Woe, woe thou pride of heathendom! seven hundred years and more Have gone since first the faithful thy royal sceptre bore!

“Thou wert the happy mother of a high renownéd race; Within thee dwelt a haughty line that now go from their place; Within thee fearless knights did dwell, who fought with mickle glee The enemies of proud Castile--the bane of Christientie!

“The mother of fair dames wert thou, of truth and beauty rare, Into whose arms did courteous knights for solace sweet repair; For whose dear sakes the gallants of Afric made display Of might in joust and battle on many a bloody day!

“Here gallants held it little thing for ladies’ sake to die, Or for the Prophet’s honour, and pride of Soldanry: For here did valour flourish, and deeds of warlike might Ennobled lordly palaces, in which was our delight.

“The gardens of thy Vega, its fields and blooming bowers-- Woe, woe! I see their beauty gone, and scatter’d all their flowers No reverence can he claim, the king that such a land hath lost On charger never can he ride, nor be heard among the host; But in some dark and dismal place, where none his face may see, There, weeping and lamenting, alone that king should be!”

Thus spake Granada’s king as he was riding to the sea, About to cross Gibraltar’s Strait away to Barbary: Thus he in heaviness of soul unto his queen did cry.-- (He had stopp’d and ta’en her in his arms, for together they did fly).

“Unhappy king! whose craven soul can brook”--(she ’gan reply) “To leave behind Granada--who hast not heart to die-- Now for the love I bore thy youth, thee gladly could I slay! For what is life to leave when such a crown is cast away?”

THE DEATH OF DON ALONZO OF AGUILAR.

The Catholic zeal of Ferdinand and Isabella was gratified by the external conversion at least of great part of the Moors of Granada; but the inhabitants of the Sierra of Alpujarra, to which the remnant of the Moors had retired, resisted every effort of the priests who were sent among them, so that the order for baptism was at length enforced by arms. These Moorish mountaineers resisted strenuously, but were at length subdued, and, in great part, extirpated. Amongst many severe losses sustained by the Spanish forces in this guerilla warfare, was that recorded in the following ballad. The tragic story has been made familiar to English readers by the Bishop of Dromore’s exquisite version of “Rio Verde! Rio Verde!”

Fernando, king of Aragon, before Granada lies, With dukes and barons many a one, and champions of emprise; With all the captains of Castile that serve his lady’s crown, He drives Boabdil from his gates, and plucks the Crescent down.

The Cross is rear’d upon the towers, for our Redeemer’s sake! The king assembles all his powers, his triumph to partake; Yet at the royal banquet, there’s trouble in his eye-- “Now speak thy wish, it shall be done, great king!” the lordings cry.

Then spake Fernando: “Hear, grandees! which of ye all will go, And give my banner in the breeze of Alpujar to blow? Those heights along, the Moors are strong; now who, by dawn of day, Will plant the Cross their cliffs among, and drive the dogs away?”

Then champion on champion high, and count on count doth look; And falt’ring is the tongue of lord, and pale the cheek of duke; Till starts up brave Alonzo, the knight of Aguilar, The lowmost at the royal board, but foremost still in war.