The Story of Seville Part 4

When Philip V. reigned, the sixteen thousand looms of the city had been reduced to less than three hundred, and the population was thinned to 'a quarter of its former number of inhabitants.' In the fruitful district around Seville the vineyards and olive gardens were in a state of neglect, and fields once fertile became wastes. Trade declined rapidly with the extirpation of heresy. The industrial population was deprived of its most skilful and industrious members when the last band of Moriscoes quitted the city. In the seventeenth century Andalusia suffered fearful poverty. Whole villages were deserted, the land was going out of cultivation, and the tax-collectors were enjoined to seize the beds and such wretched furniture as the indigent peasants possessed in their cheerless houses.

When Philip II. died, loyal Seville honoured the departed King by a magnificent funeral service in the Cathedral. A monument, forty-four feet square, and forty-one feet in height, was designed by Oviedo, at a cost of fifteen thousand ducats. Montanes, the famous sculptor, whose work is to be seen in several of the Seville churches, produced some of the statuary to adorn the monument, and the young Pacheco, then unknown, a.s.sisted in the decoration. On November 25, 1598, the mourning mult.i.tude flocked to the dim Cathedral. While the people knelt upon the stones, and the solemn music floated through the long aisles, there was a disturbance among a part of the congregation. A man was charged with deriding the imposing monument, and creating a disorder in the holy edifice. He was a tax-gatherer and ex-soldier of the city, named Don Miguel de Servantes Saavedra. Some of the citizens took his side, for there was a feud between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities of Seville, and the tax-gatherer had merely shown public spirit. The brawler, whom we know as Cervantes, was expelled from the Cathedral with his companions, and order was restored. But he had his revenge. He went to his room and composed a satirical poem upon the tomb of the King, which was soon published and read everywhere in the city. Here is one of the English translations of the poem:--

TO THE MONUMENT OF THE KING AT SEVILLE.

'I vow to G.o.d I quake with my surprise!

Could I describe it, I would give a crown-- And who, that gazes on it in the town, But starts aghast to see its wondrous size; Each part a million cost, I should devise; What pity 'tis, ere centuries have flown, Old Time will mercilessly cast it down!

Thou rival'st Rome, O, Seville, in my eyes!

I bet the soul of him who's dead and blest, To dwell within this sumptuous monument Has left the seats of sempiternal rest!

A fellow tall, on deeds of valour bent, My exclamation heard. "Bravo!" he cried, "Sir Soldier, what you say is true, I vow!

And he who says the contrary has lied!"

With that, he pulls his hat upon his brow, Upon his sword hilt he his hand doth lay And frowns--and--nothing does, but walks away.'

The discovery of the New World, with its opulence of treasure, and the expulsion of the Moriscoes, did not yield a permanent prosperity to Seville. Even before the death of Philip II., the few far-sighted and reflective men doubted whether a great influx of gold and silver, and the annihilation of freedom of thought, were likely to benefit Spain, either in the material or spiritual sense. The gold fever seized like a frenzy upon the avaricious, and the early colonisers turned their backs upon any country that lacked precious minerals. Nothing save gold and silver was considered valuable. As a consequence these minerals became redundant, and in the meantime the cultivation of the land at home and abroad, and the development of manufactures, were neglected. No one had the enterprise to prevent the silting up of the tidal waters of the Guadalquivir, and so Seville lost its importance as a busy port.

While n.o.bles were fighting for gold, and harrying heretics, briars and weeds were spreading over the fields that the patient Moors had tilled and made marvellously fertile. The establishment of the _alcavala_ tax upon farming produce and manufactured articles hastened the decline of agriculture and of crafts in Andalusia. Finally, under the Bourbons, Cadiz became the rival of Seville, and the Council of the Two Indies was removed to the southern port in 1720. In good or ill fortune Seville remained loyal, winning for itself the t.i.tle of: _Muy n.o.ble, muy leal, muy heroica e invicta, i.e._, 'Very n.o.ble, very loyal, very brave and invincible.'

Some interesting pictures of Seville at the close of the eighteenth and beginning of the nineteenth centuries are to be found in the _Letters from Spain_, by D. Leucadio Doblado, written in 1824. Doblado is the pseudonym of Blanco White, son of the British Vice-Consul at Seville in those days. White was born in the city in 1775, brought up as a Spaniard, and sent to the University. His parents were very austere Catholics, but reading and study developed a sceptical tendency in young White's mind, and he subsequently came to England and was well-known in Unitarian circles.

In his _Life_, Blanco White describes the quaint ceremony of entrance into the University of Seville. 'Every day of the week preceding the admission, the candidate was obliged to walk an hour in the princ.i.p.al quadrangle of the college, attended by one of the servitors, and his own servant or page--a needy student who, for the sake of board, lodgings and the cast-off clothes of his master, was glad in that humble capacity to go through the course of studies necessary for the profession--Divinity, Law or Medicine--which he intended to follow.' The custom of the _caravanas_ was a trying ordeal for the student. He was compelled to run the gauntlet of the gibes of a mob of spectators, as a trial of his patience. No physical violence was permitted, except when a candidate lost his temper. An irascible victim was speedily ducked in the basin of the fountain of the quadrangle. Ladies came to see the sport. When White pa.s.sed through this ordeal, he was dressed in fantastic garments, and led by his tormentors by a rope.

In 1800, Blanco White saw the outbreak of yellow fever that ravaged the city. The plague began in Triana, and the infection was said to have been brought from Cadiz by seamen. As in previous instances of pestilence, there was no enforced isolation of the diseased, and no relief of the suffering poor. Prayers were offered for succour in the Cathedral and the churches, and a special service of the Rogativas, used in the times of severe affliction, was performed on nine days after sunset. One of the choicest relics of the Cathedral, a piece of the True Cross, or _Lignum Crucis_, was exhibited as a charm on the Giralda Tower. Many persons advised that a wooden crucifix, in one of the chapels of the suburbs, should be also employed. It had been of great service in the plague of 1649, staying the epidemic after half of the inhabitants had been destroyed. A day was fixed for the solemn ceremony of blessing the four winds of heaven with the True Cross from the Cathedral treasury. The great fane was crowded with supplicants. As the priest made the sign of the Cross, with the golden casket containing the _Lignum Crucis_, a frightful clap of thunder made the Cathedral tremble.

In forty-eight hours the deaths increased tenfold. The heat, the polluted air of the Cathedral, the infection that spread among the worshippers, and the fatigue of the service caused a great spread of the fever in the city. Eighteen thousand persons perished from the pestilence.

During the Peninsular War, Soult's troops did considerable damage to parts of Seville. The church that contained the bones of Murillo was pillaged by the soldiers, and the tomb of the great painter was destroyed. On February 1, 1810, the city surrendered with all its stores and a.r.s.enal, and Joseph marched in. The French force had appeared before Seville in January 1810. 'In Seville all was anarchy,' writes Sir W. F.

P. Napier, in his _History of the War in the Peninsula_; 'Palafox and Montijo's partisans were secretly ready to strike, the ancient Junta openly prepared to resume their former power.' It was a time of revolt in the city; mobs went through the streets, calling for the deposition of the Junta, and vowing violence against the members. Seville was besieged for the last time in 1843, at the time of Espartero's regency.

An account of the siege is given in _Revelations of Spain_, by an English Resident, who writes: 'I saw full twenty houses in different parts of the city--this was about the entire number--which Van Halen's sh.e.l.ls had entirely gutted. The b.a.l.l.s did limited damage--a mere crack against the wall, for the most part a few stones dashed out, and there an end. But the bombs--that was indeed a different matter! Wherever they fell, unless they struck the streets, and were buried in the ground, they carried destruction. Lighting on the roof of a house, they invariably pierced through its four or five floors, and bursting below, laid the building in ruins.' Probably not more than twenty lives were lost through the bursting of the sh.e.l.ls. Most of the men of the city were defending the walls, and the women took refuge in the churches. The Cathedral sheltered a large number of women and children, who slept and cooked there. The Junta of Seville occupied the Convent of San Paolo during the siege.

Edward VII. of England, when Prince of Wales, paid a visit to Seville, and spent several days in the city, in 1876.

We have now briefly surveyed the more interesting events in the history of the city and noted incidents in the lives of eminent Sevillians from the time of the Goths until the present century.

CHAPTER IV

_The Remains of the Mosque_

'I have never entered a mosque without a vivid emotion--shall I even say without a certain regret in not being a Mussulman?'--ERNEST RENAN, _Islamism and Science_.

In the year 1171, Abu Yakub Yusuf, the conquering Moor, began the building of a mighty _mezquita_, or mosque, in the captured city of Seville. The important work was given into the hands of a famed architect, one Gever, Hever, or Djabir, the correct spelling of whose name has puzzled the historians. Gever is said to have been 'the inventor of Algebra.' Whether he really designed the Mosque is difficult to determine. Some Spanish writers have a.s.serted that the first stage of the Giralda Tower was commenced in the year 1000 of the Christian era 'by the famous Moor, Herver.' From the discovery, at a great depth, of certain pieces of Roman masonry, it is supposed that an amphitheatre once occupied the ground now covered by the Cathedral, the Giralda, and the Court of the Oranges.

There is no doubt that the Mosque of the Almohade ruler was a vast and n.o.ble building, resembling in most of its characters that of Cordova.

The minaret, now called the Giralda, is certainly one of the most ancient buildings in the city. It is recorded that the Moorish astronomers used the tower as an observatory. Probably the minaret served the double purpose of praying-tower and astronomical outlook. In building the tower the remains of ruined Roman and Gothic structures were used by the Moors, just as the Christians afterwards employed portions of the mosques and palaces for building their temples. The original minaret was about two hundred and thirty feet in height. At each corner of the minaret stood four huge bra.s.s b.a.l.l.s, which were thrown down in the earthquake of 1395.

If we enter the precincts of the old Mosque by the Puerta del Perdon, in the Calle de Alemanes, we shall see the bronze-covered doors which may have formed one of the entrances to the building. The bronze has been spoilt by paint, but one can note the distinctly Moorish character of these great doors. This gate was reconstructed by Alfonso XI. after the victory of Salado. In its present state it dates from 1340. Bartolome Lopez added the plateresque ornamentations about 1522. The sculptures over the doorway are statues of St. Peter and St. Paul, an Annunciation and the Expulsion of the Money Changers from the Temple. Before the Lonja was built, the merchants of Seville used the court within as an exchange. Hence the relief of the Expulsion, a fine piece of carving by the Italian, Miguel, representing Christ chastising the money changers from the Temple. Miguel of Florence was one of the early Renaissance sculptors who came to Spain.

Under the archway of the Gate of Pardon is a modern shrine. At almost all hours of the day sin-stricken supplicants, chiefly women, may be seen kneeling on the stones before the altar.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Puerta del Perdon]

Through the gateway we enter the quiet retreat of the Patio de los Naranjas, or the Court of the Oranges, which formed the courtyard of the ancient Morisco temple. The lofty Cathedral is before us; on the left towers the imposing Giralda, and to the right hand is the Sagrario, or parish church. There is a beautiful Moorish fountain in the centre of the court, with an octagonal basin. Every Morisco _patio_ had its fountain, orange and lemon trees, and marble seats. In the walls of the Sacristry of the Sagrario, we shall find further traces of the Moorish decoration in the form of _azulejos_ which belonged to the original Mosque.

The _patio_ is smaller than that of the _mezquita_ of Cordova, and with the exception of the few relics which I have described, there is not much suggestion of former grandeur.

But imagination calls forth the figure of a Mueddjin upon the minaret, chanting the _Adyan_, or call to prayer, as the sun tints the sky at its setting. The worshippers repair to the baths to purify themselves for devotion by washing their bodies. 'Regularly perform thy prayer at the declension of the sun,' says the Sura, 'at the first darkness of the night and the prayer of daybreak; for the prayer of daybreak is borne witness unto by the angels.' Five times during the day the pious Mohammedans spread their mats here, and prayed to Allah.

The Crescent has vanished from the Giralda. A figure of Christian faith stands there in its stead, and from the Cathedral issue the strains of the choristers and the swelling of the organ. For long centuries this spot in the heart of Seville has been dedicated to worship. Romans, Visigoths, Moors and Catholic Christians each in their day of power have bent the knee to their deities upon the ground which we are now treading. It is a strange, composite fane! The lower part of the Giralda is Moorish, the upper part Christian. In the middle of the Court of the Oranges we have the Moslem fountain; and in the wall is a stone pulpit from which many eminent Catholic divines have preached against heresy.

The Giralda, incorporated with the Cathedral, dominates all, but it is the most Moorish feature of the great pile.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Stone Pulpit in Court of Oranges.]

We must now inspect the minaret. Our way is through the Capilla de la Granada of the Cathedral. Here we may see one more monument of the Moors, a horseshoe arch, once a part of the Mosque. Within, suspended from the roof, is a huge elephant's tusk, a bridle, said to have belonged to the Cid's steed, and a stuffed crocodile, a present from the Sultan of Egypt, who sent it to Alfonso el Sabio, with a request for the King's daughter as wife.

The ascent of the Giralda is not laborious. We can walk up the inclined plane without losing breath; and at each window of the stages there are lovely peeps of the city and the vast plain of the Guadalquivir. From these windows there are fine outlooks upon the Cathedral, and the details of its wonderful b.u.t.tresses can be well studied as we ascend stage by stage. The stages, or _cuerpos_, of the tower are all named.

We soon arrive at the Cuerpo de Campanas, where there is a peal of bells. Santa Maria is a ponderous bell which cost ten thousand ducats.

It was set up in the year 1588 by the order of the Archbishop Don Gonzalo de Mena. This bell is vulgarly called 'the plump' by reason of its great bulk and weight. Its note is deep and resonant, and can be heard all over the city, and far away in the country, when the wind is favourable.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cuerpo de Azucenas]

Another _cuerpo_ is that of the Azucenas, or white lilies, so called on account of its architectural urns, with ironwork flower decorations. El Cuerpo del Reloj (the Clock Tower) contained the first tower-clock made in Spain. It was put in its place in the presence of King Enrique III.

The present clock was the work of Jose Cordero, a monk, and it dates from 1765. It is said that portions of the old clock were used by Cordero.

Around the more modern part of the Giralda is an inscription in Latin: _Turris Fortisima Nomen Domini_. Each word of the motto occupies one of the faces of the tower. The Cuerpo de Estrellas, or Stage of the Stars, is so named in allusion to the decorations of its faces. Notice the _ajimez_ windows as you ascend the tower. The fourth and last _cuerpo_ is the Corambolas, or billiard b.a.l.l.s, referring to the globes of stone in the decoration.

We emerge upon a gallery below the great statue of La Fe, thirteen feet in height, and made out of bronze by Bartolome Morel, in 1568. This figure of a woman is a vane, which moves with every wind in spite of its size and weight. It is a wonderful piece of workmanship. The head of the Faith is crowned with a Roman helmet, and in the woman's right hand is the great standard of Rome in the time of the Emperor Constantine. In the left hand the figure holds a palm branch, a symbol of conquest. The true name of the statue is La Fe Triumfante; but in the common speech of Seville it is spoken of as Victoria, Giraldillo, Santa Juasma, and El Muneco.

Don Alfonso Alvarez-Benavides, in his little book on _La Giralda_, published in Seville, tells us that the statue of the Faith has suffered several lightning strokes. One of these attacks severely scorched the upper section of the tower. In the afternoon of April 26, 1884, during a terrific thunder-storm, a shower of sparks fell upon the Giralda and caused much damage. Again, on the 18th of June 1885, lightning a.s.sailed the building. The work of restoration began in the year 1885, and was completed in 1888, under the direction of Fernandez Casanova.

It was in 1568 that Hernan Ruiz erected the highest _cuerpo_ of the minaret by order of the Cathedral authorities. Ruiz was often employed by the Church, and his work may be seen in the restored _mezquita_ of Cordova.

The Giralda is about three hundred feet in height. As the surrounding country is level, we can command a very wide expanse from the gallery below the statue of the Faith. Looking over the roofs and dome of the Cathedral, we see the Plaza de Toros, and the suburb of Triana, on the opposite bank of the Guadalquivir. Among the low hills beyond the Cartuja, to the right of Triana, is the ancient Roman amphitheatre of Italica, while in the extreme distance are blue mountains.

Beyond the Alcazar we note the Parque, the Delicias, the Prado de San Sebastian, and the red clay hills of Coria on the right bank of the broad river. Further away are the interminable marshes bordering the estuary, and beyond is San Lucar. Below us is the Archbishop's Palace and the gardens of the Alcazar. Seville is spread beneath us like a huge map. We look down on roof gardens, into _patios_, along the white, narrow _calles_, into the _plazas_, and across the housetops to the fertile land beyond the Roman walls.

It is a prospect that inspires the spectator. Fair, sunny, fruitful Andalusia stretches around for league upon league, under a burning blue sky. The air is clear; there is scarcely a trace of smoke from the myriad chimneys of the city. No town could be brighter and cleaner. We are above the brown hawks that nest in the niches of the Cathedral. They float on outspread wings over the b.u.t.tresses. The pa.s.sengers in the streets are like specks; the trees in the Court of the Oranges are but shrubs. It is one of the finest panoramas in Spain. One is reluctant to descend from this breezy platform, and to turn one's back upon the fine bird's-eye view of Seville and the surrounding landscape.

It is a misfortune that sun, wind and rain have almost expunged the frescoes that decorate the niches of the Giralda. They were the work of Luis de Vargas, who painted the altar-piece in the Chapel of the Nativity in the Cathedral. Vargas was a pupil of Perino del Vaga in Italy. One of the paintings on the Giralda represented the Saints of Seville, St. Justa and St. Rufina, who protect the tower from harm, and other subjects were scenes in the lives of saints and martyrs. Vargas also executed the fresco of Christ bearing the Cross, or the _Calle de Amargura_, on the outside of Patio de los Naranjas. The picture was restored by Vasco Pereyra, in 1594. We read of Luis de Vargas that he was extremely devout. He practised austerities and mortifications, and slept with a coffin by his bedside, to remind him of the insecurity of this earthly life. The ascetic artist was born in Seville, in 1502, and died there about the year 1568.

Like the monument of London, and many other high towers, the Giralda has often been used by suicides. A number of despairing persons have thrown themselves from its summit.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Giralda]