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chamber, over which a lovely rosy tint is diffused by the
tiles and stucco. The Torre de las Infantas, built by
Mohammed VII., is a perfect example of an Oriental
dwelling-house. Through the usual zigzag vestibule
you reach a hall with a fountain in the centre and alcoves
in three of the sides. The decoration is perhaps over
elaborate. The towers on the other side of the enceinte
were, as I have said, intended mainly for defence. Near
the ruinous Torre del Agua, at the south-east extremity,
a viaduct crosses the ravine from the Generalife, and
some of the water precipitates itself over the brow of
the hill in a mass of vivid living greenery. Further
on, towards the Gate of Justice, is the Torre de los Siete
Suelos, through which Boabdil is said to have made his
last exit. It is supposed to extend far underground,
and to contain much buried treasure. So at least Irving
was told by the inhabitants, or possibly told them !
Hence issues the Belludo, the spectral pack, which
traverses the streets of Granada by night — also according
to legend. This story of the Wild Huntsman crops up,
in one form or another, in every part of Europe. There
are the Dandy Dogs in Cornwall, the Wild Huntsman
in Germany, Thibaut le Tricheur in the valley of the
Loire, the Chasseur Noir of Fontainebleau, and so on.
Folk-lore of this sort is easily fabricated. Foreigners
in search of the picturesque ask the natives of such a
place as this if ghosts do not haunt the ruins. The
guide, anxious to please, says " Doubtless ! " The

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foreigner goes on to tell him of spectres that affect this
particular class of building at home ; and the guide
readily devises a local version of the yarn for the benefit
of the next stranger. I have found that the peasantry
in most European countries hear of their local traditions
and folk-lore first through the medium of books. And
these remarks apply with especial force to the people of
Latin countries, whom, contrary to the received opinion,
I know to be less imaginative and less superstitious
than northerners. It is natural that the gloomy forests
of Germany and Sweden, rather than the sunlit plains
of Andalusia, should generate dark fancies.

Strictly speaking the Generalife, the Trianon of the
Moorish kings, is a more beautiful place than the
Alhambra, though it has no architectural merit. It
became the property at the Reconquest of a Christianized
Moor, Don Pedro de Granada, who claimed to be
descended from the famous Ben Hud, and from whose
family it passed into the possession of the Marquises
of Campotejar. The approach lies along a magnificent
avenue of cypresses and tall shrubs. Arrived at the
entrance you are admitted by a very comely damsel,
and allowed to wander about the lovely gardens by
yourself and to stay there all day if you like. At the
far end of the first court is a poor collection of portraits,
among which is one — No. ii — absurdly supposed to
be a portrait of Ben Hud (died about 1237), though
the person is dressed in the costume of the fifteenth
century. This is the portrait which English travellers,

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GRANADA THE GENERALIFE : COURT OF THE CYPRESSES



Granada

and even the usually correct Baedeker, persist in
mistaking for Boabdil's.

The gardens of the Generalife are beyond all praise.
Water bubbles up everywhere, and moistens the roots
of gorgeous oleanders, myrtles, orange trees, cedars,
and cypresses — the tallest trees in Spain. Beneath one
of these — that to the right as you reach the head of the
first flight of steps — the sultana is alleged to have kept
her tryst with Hamet, the Abencerrage. Not a bad
place, this, for a lovers' meeting. You rise from one
flower-laden terrace to another till you reach the ugly
belvedere — scribbled all over with idiots' names —
whence you obtain a ravishing view of the Alhambra,
the city, the Vega, and the mountains. The hours
spent in the Generalife Gardens will be remembered as
among the pleasantest of one's lifetime.

It may be, as a French writer states, impossible to
tickle the surface of Granada without discovering
Moorish remains, but certainly, outside the Alhambra,
very few are to be seen above ground. The most
conspicuous of them in the lower town is, on the whole,
the Casa del Carbon, a dilapidated structure with a bold
horseshoe archway which confronts you as you cross
the Reyes Catolicos near the Post Ofiice. The house
is now used as a coal depot, but beneath the thick
coating of grime you may discern the traces of graceful
decorative work. The building is said to have been a
corn exchange in Moorish days. More interesting are
the vestiges of the ancient walls that girdled the oldest

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quarter, el viejo Alhaicin. They were built In great part
by Christian captives — perhaps by those whose chains
are hung up on the walls of San Juan de los Reyes at
Toledo. The Moors of Granada grew embittered by
their reverses, and treated their Christian subjects
harshly. The martyrs whom the monument on the
Alhambra hill commemorates are not merely the
creatures of pious imagination. There is an ugly
story, too, of an unfortunate monk accused of heretical
doctrines, who took refuge at Granada and was burnt
at the stake by the Moslems.

Two of the old gatehouses on this side of the city
are still standing. They are massive crenellated towers,
pierced with round-headed archways. I do not consider
them entrancingly picturesque ; they form the northern
entrances to the Albaicin quarter, which is now a per-
plexing congeries of squalid houses, formless convents,
and churches tottering to their fall. Whatever interest
its antiquity may excite is lost in disgust at its wretched-
ness. On the outskirts dwell the gipsies — mostly in
semi-underground burrows, and left very much to
themselves by the local authority. These are the poor
creatures who are dragged out to bore visitors with
their wearisome dances, the fee charged for which goes
almost entirely into the pockets of the guides. The
gipsies of Spain are not nomadic. There are people
in Granada who wish they were.

In the Albaicin the Zirite sultans had their palaces,
one of which was called the House of the Weathercock,

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GRANADA CASA DEL CARBON



Granada

from the bronze figure of a horseman that surmounted
it and served as a vane. Washington Irving has
written a story about it. Fragments of all these
ancient buildings are incorporated with modern houses,
and may be identified by those who care to take the
trouble. Romantic legends (of the precise nature of
which I am ignorant) cluster round the Casa de las
Tres Estrellas, possibly because it affords ingress to a
subterranean passage leading no man knows whither.
But I do not think you will be tempted to linger long
in this odoriferous, wormeaten quarter. You may be
said to have escaped from it when you reach the
picturesque Carrera de Darro, the embankment of that
narrow stream facing the Alhambra. Here may be
seen a Moorish bath at one of the private houses, and
— much more delightful to the artist — a broken
Moorish bridge, the Puente del Cadi, to which a path
led down from the Torre de las Armas. Against the
little church near this point you will notice a white
corner house with a handsome doorway in the Renais-
sance style. At the angle of the house is a balcony,
bearing the odd inscription, " Esperandola del Cielo "
(" Waiting for it from Heaven "). The words are
accounted for by the following story : The house was
built by Hernando de Zafra, the astute secretary of
Ferdinand and Isabella, and the negotiator of the
capitulation of Granada. He suspected his daughter
of a love affair with an unknown cavalier. To satisfy
his doubts he surprised her one day, and found his

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page assisting the lover to escape by the window.
Baulked of his prey the enraged father turned upon
the lad. " Mercy," implored the page. " Look for it
in Heaven ! " answered the Don, as he hurled his
daughter's accomplice after her lover into the street
below. There are those who say that De Zafra had no
daughter, and that he has been libelled in this matter.
But the episode is more probable than the foreign-
made yarns about the Alhambra.

The rivers of Granada are more spoken of than
seen. At the foot of the Alhambra the Darro dis-
appears, its channel through the town having been
roofed over at different epochs. Till the middle of
the last century the houses of the Zacatin looked at
the back upon the stream, as may be seen from a
picture by Roberts in the South Kensington Galleries.
There was a local proverb which said "Ugly as the
back of the Zacatin," an evidence of the persistent
confusion of the ugly and the picturesque. This part
of the stream is now covered by the Reyes Catolicos
Street. The famous Zacatin — a lane-like thoroughfare,
like those we have seen in Seville — was once the
principal street in Granada, and seems to have been
full of animation in Gautier's time. That brilliant
Frenchman speaks of meeting there parties of students
from Salamanca, playing as they went on the guitar,
triangles, and castanets — truly a singular mode of
taking one's walks abroad, such as even the Spaniards
of the 'thirties and 'forties must have marvelled at

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GRANADA STREET IN THE ALBAICIN



Granada

exceedingly. Are we to understand by this remarkable
passage that the alumni of Salamanca formed pro-
cessions like those of the Salvation Army, whenever
they met by chance in the public street, or that, like
the fine lady of Banbury Cross, they were determined
to move nowhere without a musical accompaniment ?
At all events, the Zacatin is quiet enough nowadays.
It still contains some of the best shops in the town and
is one of the few comparatively shady walks outside
the precincts of the Alhambra. It leads you to the far-
famed Plaza de Bibarrambla, with the name of which
we have been familiarized by Byron's rendering of the
Spanish ballad, " Ay de mi, Alhama ! " The square,
like so much else in Granada, has been so completely
modernized that nothing remains to recall the days
when the sultans here assisted at pageants and tourna-
ments, wherein Christians often took part. It is
edifying to learn that Spanish knights, forbidden in
their own country to cut each other's throats, often
resorted hither to do so, by gracious permission of his
Moorish Majesty.

We are now in the neighbourhood of the second
great sight of Granada — the Cathedral with its adjoining
buildings. The church called the Sagrario is an
eighteenth-century structure immediately adjoining
the west front of the Cathedral, on the south side,
which served for a time as the metropolitan church
of Granada. The interior is sombre, heavy, and
Churrigueresque — a style which, it always strikes me,

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might have been devised by an undertaker accustomed
to a high-class business. One of the chapels, however,
is interesting. It contains the bones of" the magnificent
cavalier, Fernando del Pulgar, Lord of El Salar," as the
inscription records. This gallant knight, during the
last siege of Granada, penetrated into the city with
fifteen horsemen, and nailed a paper bearing the Ave
Maria on the door of the mosque. This brave exploit
earned for him and his descendants the right of remaining
covered in the Cathedral and before the king. In
Philip II. 's time the Marques del Salar, the representa-
tive of the family, was fined for appearing covered before
the High Court of Granada. He appealed to the king,
invoking the privilege conferred on his ancestor. " Not
so," replied Philip ; " you may wear your bonnet in the
presence of the king, but not in the sacred presence of
Justice." With the fine was built the staircase in the
Audiencia in the Plaza Nueva.

Behind the Sagrario is the mausoleum of Ferdinand
and Isabella — the Capilla Real — a temple peculiarly
sacred in the eyes of all good Spaniards. The two great
sovereigns lie here in the heart of the city which they
recovered for Christendom, even as many great
soldiers have caused their remains to be buried on the
sites of their greatest victories. The chapel, founded
in 1504 and completed in 15 17, is a noble example of
late Gothic. The exterior is very simple, the decoration
consisting mainly of two highly ornate balustrades,
surmounting each of the two stages. The well-known

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GRANADA INTERIOR OF A POSADA



Granada

devices and monograms of the founders are interwoven
with the decoration. Through a portal flanked by the
figures of heralds we enter the chapel — plain, bright,
and airy. The chancel is railed off by a magnificent
grille of gilt ironwork, wrought by Maestre Bartolome
of Jaen, in 1522. Between this and the altar are the
superb tombs of Ferdinand and Isabella, and of their
daughter Joanna and her husband, Philip I. The
former is ascribed to a Florentine sculptor, Domenico
Fancelli.

The recumbent efiigies of the Reyes Catolicos are
full of expression and majesty. Both wear their crowns,
and Ferdinand is in full armour. At the angles of the
tomb are seated figures, and the sides are sculptured
with medallions and escutcheons and the figures of
angels and saints. The figures of the unhappy Joanna
and her Flemish consort are less lifelike, and the
decoration is much more florid. It must be admitted
that the Renaissance character of these sepulchral
monuments contrasts rather oddly with the Gothic
surroundings. The kneeling statues of the founders
at the sides of the altar are believed to be actual
likenesses. The reliefs on the retablo, by Vigarni,
represent the surrender of Granada and the subsequent
baptism of the Moors. In the former, both the
sovereigns are shown, in the company of Cardinal
Mendoza, receiving the keys from Boabdil ; in the latter,
we note that the candidates for baptism are so many that
the rite is being administered by means of a syringe.

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Beneath the tombs is the vault contahinig all that
was mortal of the makers of Modern Spain. The
sacristan thrusts a lighted taper forward into the gloomy
abode of death, and you are able to distinguish five
coffins — those of Ferdinand and Isabella, Philip, Joanna,
and the Infante Miguel. Philip's coffin, it will be
remembered, was carried about by his lovesick widow
till she had to be parted from it by force. The coffins
are rude, bulging, and almost shapeless. One only,
that of Ferdinand, can be identified, and this only by
the simple letter F upon it. Might not this stand as
well for Felipe ?

The sacristan next shows you the treasury of the
chapel. Among the relics are the crown, sceptre, and
mirror of Isabella, her missal beautifully illuminated,
and the standard embroidered by her that floated over
the city. A casket is shown which was filled with jewels
which she pawned to procure funds for Columbus's
first voyage of discovery. Few investments have
proved more profitable, as far as material wealth is
concerned. You may also see Ferdinand's sword,
rather interesting to those curious in ancient weapons.

The Royal Chapel is quite independent of the
immediately adjacent Cathedral. The chaplains have
a right of way across the Cathedral transept to the
Puerta del Perdon, a privilege deeply resented by the
chapter. Once when the Archbishop wished to visit
the chapel, his attendant canons were refused admission.
The irate prelate caused the chaplains to be arrested for

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GRANADA OLD HOUSES, CUESTA DEL PESCADO



Granada

this affront, and a long lawsuit followed. But all this
happened a long time ago, and it is to be hoped that
the two bodies of clergy now live upon good terms
with each other.

A very beautiful arch, richly and tastefully adorned
with statues, admits to the Cathedral. This church,
described by Fergusson as one of the finest in Europe,
was begun by Diego de Siloe, about 1525, and not
completed till 1703. The exterior is far from corre-
sponding to the majesty of the interior, though the
Puerto del Perdon, already referred to, on the north
side, is a beautiful piece of work. The impression
produced on entering the Cathedral is rather similar to
that experienced on entering St. Peter's. There is an
atmosphere of loftiness, luxury, and cold purity — like
that clinging to the finest classical works. This is
certainly the triumph of Spanish Renaissance architec-
ture. The effect is, of course, utterly different from
that of the grand old Gothic fane of Seville. Like all
Renaissance churches, as it seems to me, it lacks the
devotional atmosphere. The nave, as usual, is obstructed
by the choir — where, by the way, Alonso Cano was
buried. The dome above the chancel is sublime, the
daring of the arches wonderful. The altar is completely
insulated by the ambulatory.

Before it are the grand sculptured heads of Adam
and Eve by Cano. His also are seven of the frescoes
decorating the upper part of the dome. The others
are by his pupils. The Cathedral contains much of

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this irascible and wayward artist's best work. In the
chapel of San Miguel is a " Virgen de la Soledad," in
whose human beauty and pathos his genius finds its
highest expression. In the chapel of Jesus Nazareno,
Cano's " Via Crucis " does not suffer by comparison
with three works of Ribera and a " St. Francis " by
El Greco. The artist's studio may be seen in one of
the towers flanking the west front of the Cathedral.
He was a native of Granada, and a lay canon of the
chapter. He died in poverty at his house in the
Albaicin quarter, aged 66 years, on October 5, 1667.
He was a man of hasty but not ungenerous temper,
and in some of his phases of character recalls Fuseli.
Justice has hardly been done to his great talent, of
which he himself seems to have entertained an
exaggerated estimate.

The minor churches of Granada are not of very great
interest. The church of San Geronimo was built by
the Great Captain as a mausoleum for himself and his
wife, but such of his remains as escaped the ghoulish
spoliation of the French have been transported to
Madrid. The church is no longer used as a place of
worship. The retablo is remarkable, and in it may be
traced the dawning of Siloe's ambition to create a true
Spanish Renaissance style. The church of San Juan de
Dios, not far off, is filled with tawdry rubbish, petti-
coated crucifixes, etc. Here is buried the titular saint,
a Portuguese, Joao de Robles, who in the seventeenth
century devoted himself with so much energy to the

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GRANADA OLD AYUNTAMIENTO



Granada

sick, and suffering that his contemporaries esteemed him
mad. You may see the cage in which he was confined
at the hospital founded by Isabella the Catholic on the
arid, ugly Plaza de Triunfo, near the Bull Ring. A
column in the middle of the square marks the spot
where Dona Mariana Pineda was publicly garrotted in
1 83 1. This lady is the great heroine of Granada.
She perished a victim to the reactionary tendencies
then prevalent in Spain. Spaniards were then crying
" Hurrah for our chains ! " and Doiia Mariana's house
was known to be a rendezvous of the Liberals of
Granada. On raiding her house the police discovered
a tricolour flag. This was evidence enough, and in the
thirty-first year of her age this beautiful and accom-
plished woman suffered a shameful death. A few years
later, when the nation had recovered its sanity, the
magistrate who had condemned her was shot, and her
remains were transported with great pomp to the
Cathedral, where they have been interred close to
Alonso Cano's. A monument has also been raised to
her memory in the Campillo Square.

There is another story connected with the Triunfo
worth telling, though it is not very well authenticated.
The remains of royal personages on their way to the
Capilla Real were here identified by the officers of the
court. The Duke of Gandia was present on such an
occasion, and was so impressed by the evidences of
mortality when the coffin was opened that he vowed
he would never again serve an earthly master. He

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entered the Society of Jesus, and after his death was
canonized under the name of St. Francis Borgia. The
story is a curious and suggestive one, as also is that of
the duke praying that his wife might die if it were for
his soul's good. St. Francis Borgia has always seemed
to me an extreme example of other-worldliness.

A dusty road through most uninviting surroundings
leads to the Cartuja, or Charterhouse, founded in 1516
by the Great Captain. The cloisters are painted with
scenes of the martyrdom of the Carthusian monks in
London by the minions of Henry VIII.

The church is an extraordinary edifice. Its style is
damnable, but it is gorgeous and dazzling to a degree
which compels admiration. The doors of the choir are
exquisitely inlaid with ebony, cedar, mother-of-pearl,
and tortoiseshell. The statue of Bruno is by Cano.
In the sanctuary behind the altar coloured marbles,
twisted and fluted, are combined in extravagant
magnificence. Some of the slabs are richly veined with
agate, and the hand of nature has traced some
semblances of human and animal forms. In the
adjoining sacristy are some wonderful inlaid doors and
presses. They must surely be the finest works of their
kind in the world. It is strange that so much genius
for detail and so much costly material should have been
combined to produce so tasteless a building.

Outside this church there are not many places in the
vicinity of Granada worth a visit. The church of
Sacramonte looms rather prominently in the landscape,

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GRANADA STREET IN THE OLD QUARTER



Granada

and you are to some extent rewarded for the trouble of
a pilgrimage thither by the fine view of the city. The
hill contains some caves in which, in the year 1594,
one Hernandez professed to have discovered certain
books written in Arabic characters on sheets of lead.
The find was reported to the archbishop, Don Pedro
Vaca de Castro, who examined the books and declared
them to contain the acts of the martyrs, Mesito and
Hiscius, Tesiphus and Cecilius, put to death by the
Romans and buried in the caves. His grace's
pronouncement was not considered final, and theo-
logical opinion was sharply divided on the subject for
many years. At last the continuance of the controversy
was forbidden by Papal decree. It seems that doubt
is now thrown even on the existence of the martyrs.
The church built over the place of their supposed
sepulchre was for a time famous as a shrine of pilgrims.
The usual rock worn away by the kisses of the devout
is shown. There is a superstition that a person kissing
the stone for the first time will be married within the
year, if single, and released from the conjugal tie if
already married. As divorce does not exist in Spain
it is to be hoped that few discontented Benedicts have
recourse to this stone.

St. Cecilius, at all events, was known to fame before
the alleged discovery of his grave ; for in the Ante-
queruela quarter an oratory dedicated to him existed
throughout the Moorish domination, and was the only
Christian place of worship within the city. I do not

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think that any trace of it is to be detected now. In
that part of the city is the Casa de los Tiros, where you
must apply for tickets for the Generalife ; it is worth
seeing on its own account, and it is the repository of
the sword of Boabdil, which seems to have more claims
to authenticity than most of the relics of the Little
King. Descending towards the Puerta Real we pass
the Cuarto de Santo Domingo, a private villa in which
is incorporated all that remains of an Almohade palace.
Near by, against the church of Santo Domingo, is an
exceedingly picturesque little archway where one can
fancy a bravo waiting, stiletto in hand. The Campillo,
in the centre of which rises the statue of Mariana
Pineda, is a quiet little square enough, referred to (as
the Rondilla) by Cervantes as a resort of adventurers
and desperadoes. These gentry are now more likely to
be found in the immediately adjacent Alameda, outside
the hotel of the same name, where the cafes and tables
spread in front of them seem exceedingly well
patronized.

Following the Genii, and leaving the unimpressive
monument of Columbus and Isabella to the left, you
reach, after a walk overpoweringly fatiguing in
summer, the little Ermita de San Sebastian. This was
a Moorish oratory in old days, and outside it took
place the surrender of the keys by Boabdil on the
memorable 2nd of January, 1492. If you go farther


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