THE richest monument of Almohade might in Seville is the beautiful Alcázar, or 'Castle,' which stands at but a stone's-throw from the remains of the great mosque. It is a palace of dreams, encompassed by lovely perfumed gardens. Its courts and salons are redolent of Moorish days, and haunted by the spirits of turbaned sheiks, philosophers, minstrels, and dark-eyed beauties of the harem. As we loiter under the orange trees of quiet gardens, we picture the palace as it was when peopled by the chiefs and retinues of swarthy skin in the time of Abdelasis, and contrast what remains of the primitive structure and Morisco decoration with the successive additions by Christian kings.

The nightingales still sing among the odorous orange bloom, and in the tangles of roses birds build their nests. Fountains tinkle beneath gently moving palms; the savour of Orientalism clings to the spot. Here wise men discussed in the cool of summer nights, when the moon stood high over the Giralda, and white beams fell through the spreading boughs of the lemon trees, and shivered upon the tiled pavements.

In the Plaza de Santo Tomas is the Tower of Abdelasis, which was once part of the palace. It was from this tower that Fernando floated the Christian standard after the capture of the Alcázar. The chief entrance in our day is in the Plaza del Triunfo. It is called the Gate of the Lion (Puerta del León). We pass through, and come into the Patio de las Banderas (Court of the Banners), so called because a flag was hoisted here during the residence of the sovereign in the palace. The patio is surrounded by modern offices, and planted with orange trees. A roofed passage on the right side of the court leads to the wonderful Mudéjar halls and the salons of the Catholic kings. The passage is the Apeadero, or 'halting-place.' It was built by Philip V. The façade is in the Baroque style.

Turning to the right from the Apeadero, we follow a corridor to the Court of Doña Maria Padilla, the mistress of Pedro the Cruel. The court is planted with orange and lemon trees and big palms. Arched galleries of a modern character seem out of place here. But in a moment we come into the Patio de la Monteria with its beautiful Moorish façade. The ajimez windows, the cusped arches, and the decorations of this doorway are fine examples of Almohade art. There is an inscription in early Gothic characters, over the door, stating that 'the most noble and powerful Don Pedro, by the grace of God, King of Castile and León, caused these fortresses and palaces to be built in the era of de mill et quatrocientios y dos' (of Cæsar). The date is 1364 A.D.

The Salón de Embajadores adjoins the Court of the Maidens. This was the Hall of the Ambassadors. It is about thirty-three feet square. The dome is of the media naranja or 'half orange' shape, the favourite design of the Moorish architects. On the walls are portraits of the monarchs of Spain. This is the most sumptuous of the salons of the Alcázar; the walls veritably dazzle the spectator with their richness of colouring. Not one inch of space on the arches, walls and doorways is left without an ornate pattern. The doors of the salon are massive and finely decorated. In this hall Charles V. was married to Isabella of Portugal.

The Comedor, or dining-room, opens out of the Hall of Ambassadors on the west side. We find in this room the latest restorations of the palace. Here, on September 21, 1848, was born the Infanta Doña Maria Isabel de Orleans y Borbón, Condesa de Paris. The bedroom of Isabella the Catholic adjoins the Comedor.

The Salón of the Princes, approached from the Patio de las Muñecas, is a spacious hall, in the mixed styles of the Mudéjar and the plateresque. The Dormitory of the Moorish Kings should be inspected. Then cross the Patio de las Doncellas to the Salón de Carlos V. This chamber has a remarkably fine ceiling, and beautiful decorations of azulejos, made by Cristobal de Augusta, an Italian, who worked in Triana in 1577. From the salon we may enter the room of Maria de Padilla.

The upper apartments of the Alcázar can be viewed by special permission. I would strongly urge the visitor to obtain this permission. If he applies to the conserje at the Palace of Pedro, he will be informed that admission is impossible without an order from the King of Spain. Such was my experience. I then asked for an order at the offices in the Patio de las Banderas, but the courteous officials were firm in their refusal, stating that 'no one but the King can give permission to visit the upper part of the Alcázar.' Still determined, I ventured to address His Majesty by letter, and in a few days I received a reply from the Intendencia General de la Real Casa y Patrimonio at Madrid. The letter was written by the royal secretary, and is a beautiful example of the ornate caligraphy in which educated Spaniards delight. I was told that 'the Señor Marqués de Irún, Alcaide of the Reales Alcázares, would grant me the desired permission.'

The effect was magical. The officials were even more polite than before. One of them wrote a note, which he asked me to give to the conserje, and I was bowed out of the office. The conserje in the Patio de la Monteria scanned the open-sesame. And at last I gained entrance to the upper apartments of the Royal Alcázar.

The visitor who has secured his permit will be rewarded. There is much to see in these chambers. Notice, first of all, the fine staircase constructed at the end of the sixteenth century. The seventeenth-century tapestries in the salons are magnificent examples of this art. Most of the subjects are Dutch; some are copies of pictures by David Teniers. In the first hall, at the head of the principal staircase, there is some handsome artesonada ceiling decoration of the fifteenth century.

In the Oratory of the Catholic Kings there is the most notable specimen of ceramic art to be seen in Spain. It is a lovely retablo of azulejos, designed by Franciso Niculoso, an Italian, in 1504. Niculoso introduced this kind of azulejo painting into Seville. The central picture represents the Visitation of the Virgin to St. Isabella. A smaller subject is the Annunciation, and there is a curious genealogical tree of the Saviour. The decorations are fantastic.

In the Comedor there is a splendid laced ceiling of Mudéjar workmanship, dating from the fifteenth century. The walls are covered with interesting tapestry pictures.

One of the most interesting apartments on the upper floors of the royal palace is the bedroom of Pedro el Cruel. The dormitorio is sumptuous with Mudéjar decorations of the sixteenth century. Near the doorway are four heads painted upon the wall. They are the heads of four disloyal justices who incurred the anger of their sovereign, and were condemned to death. The paintings throw a light upon the character of Pedro, who, no doubt, surveyed them with satisfaction whenever he entered the chamber. It is probable that the King feared assassination, for from this part of the palace there is a staircase descending to the quarters formerly occupied by the guards and royal bowmen. The story runs that Pedro had this stairway made in order to communicate with his faithful servant Juan Diente, a famous marksman with the bow.

In the Dormitory of Queen Isabel there is a copy of Murillo's Ecce Homo, and various portraits of monarchs. The Salón Azul (Blue Room) is so named on account of the colour of its silk tapestries. The pastel paintings in this apartment are by A. Muraton, representing Queen Doña Isabel, the Infanta Doña Isabel, King Alfonso XII., and the Marquesa de Novaliches. There are also eighteen miniatures painted upon ivory.

Let us saunter now in the sunny gardens of the Alcázar. We can reach them through the Apeadero, and by the steps leading from the tank at the entrance. The reservoir is full of carp, some of them of corpulent proportions. A few small fish may be seen basking near the surface of the water, but the bigger and warier carp do not often show themselves. Roses cluster about the steps, and twine on all the railings. We come to a tree-grown court, with a gallery running on one side, and an arched entrance to the Baths of Maria de Padilla. This garden is called El Jardin del Crucero. The underground bath is cool, and it is a rest to the eyes to escape for a few minutes from the dazzling sunlight of the gardens. Here the lovely Maria, faithful mistress of the ferocious Pedro, was wont to bathe in warm weather.

To show their homage to the monarch's consort, the chivalrous courtiers came hither when the fair bather had taken her bath, and drank of the water in which she had washed her white limbs. It is said that these devoted servitors used sometimes to carry away some of the water in vessels 'to drink it with enjoyment.'

We have read in the historical sections of our account of the city how he earned the title of 'El Cruel.' But the story of his treachery towards his half-brothers has not been related.

Don Fadrique, Master of the Order of Santiago, and half-brother of Pedro el Cruel, having confessed allegiance to the King, came one day to Seville, after a campaign with rebels in Murcia. The Master of Santiago went to the Alcázar with the intention of paying a visit to his half-brother, the King. Pedro was playing at backgammon in his private apartment of the palace when Don Fadrique came to him.

The monarch received his general with genial courtesies, and bade him stay in the Alcázar. Leaving Pedro for a while, the Master went to the rooms of Maria de Padilla. He found her agitated and pale, but the sadness of her beautiful countenance did not cause him to suspect what lay upon her mind. Maria knew that Pedro longed to rid himself of all possible claimants to the throne. His eldest half-brother Enrique was in France, plotting against the Castilian throne. Pedro still dreaded a rising under Fadrique. He apparently doubted his professed fealty, and he had planned his murder. It is said that the Master of Santiago received hints of the fate that awaited him. But he returned to the quarters of the King, who was in company with several members of his court.

During the siege of Seville by Fernando el Santo, the fortified palace was the chief point of attack. The massive walls of the Alcázar long resisted the assault of the besiegers. But the beleaguered Moors were at length compelled to offer surrender to the knights of the Cross. On the day of St. Clement the gates were thrown open, and San Fernando rode into the courtyard. In the King's hand was a sword; on his saddle the ivory image of the Holy Virgin. By his side rode Don Garcia de Varga and his brother Don Diego, the Condé Lorenzo, Pelago, and other brave cavaliers. The Khalif of the Alcázar escaped by the gate near the Hospital del Sangre. Henceforward, the palace was to be the residence of the kings of Castile.

In 1379 Juan I. lived in the Alcázar. The King ascended the throne without opposition. Trouble arose soon with Portugal, and Juan marched at the head of thirty-four thousand soldiers into the enemy's territory. The Portuguese had a small force of only ten thousand men, including a few Englishmen. Near the village of Aljubarrota the armies met. There was a great battle, in which the Portuguese troops fought valiantly, and drove back the invaders.

Isabel and Fernando often sought the tranquil paths of this garden. The Catholic Queen and her Consort lived here in great state, in the palmy days of Seville, dispensing justice, listening to the counsels of Torquemada and the officers of the Holy Inquisition, and consulting with Columbus regarding the expansion of their realm and the development of trade with the New World. Many were the hours passed by the blue-eyed, fair-haired Queen in the private chapel.

The pious Philip II. came here, though he preferred his mountain palace of the Escorial. He ordered the portraits of the Kings of Spain to be painted in the Hall of the Ambassadors. As we have read, Philip incurred the resentment of the Sevillian merchants by his confiscation of their ingots. But the prelates and clergy of the city honoured the sovereign, who always supported the Church and favoured the priests. In his reign the Primate of Spain was almost as wealthy as the Pope. The Archbishop of Seville received an income of eighty thousand ducats a year.

Philip spent his time at the Alcázar in his usual daily labours, writing like a clerk in his private room until the small hours of the morning. Every morning he attended Mass. The King lived simply, for he feared the gout. But in spite of this form of frugality, Philip spent his revenue freely in maintaining a large household. In his retinue there were fifteen hundred persons, including forty pages, all of noble family.

'I am absolute King,' was the boast of the despotic Philip. His ambition was to attain power, to extend his kingdom beyond the seas, and to crush out heresy. Yet Tennyson's love-dazzled Mary is made to ask, as she gazes upon the face of the Spanish King, in a miniature painting:

These gardens evoke reflections upon the ever-changing fate of Spain. We gaze at relics of the Moors, and remember the eight hundred years of that sanguinary history of the expulsion of the infidels. Yet everywhere there are traces of that mighty civilisation built up by Morisco knowledge and industry. The Mudéjar has touched the palace and the gardens with his magic wand. Fernando, Pedro, Philip, Carlos—all the Catholic sovereigns—preserved the Moorish style of decoration, and borrowed from the art of the hated race.

In 1626 a theatre stood in the large patio near the Puerta del León, by which gate we must leave the Alcázar. The playhouse was of oval form, with three balconies, and one part of the theatre was reserved for ladies. The travelling actors who visited Seville preferred this theatre to any other in the city, as is shown by the archives of the palace. In the year 1691 the theatre was entirely destroyed by a great fire, and not a stone of the old building remains.

The singular mingling of Christian and Moorish architecture and adornment in the modern Alcázar is characteristic of Seville. We find the same mixture of styles in the Casa Pilatos and in other mansions of the city. Even the railway station at the termination of the Córdova line affords an example of the perpetuation of Morisco design and decoration. It is this Moorish influence that lends a strange interest to Seville. Some writers have declared that these mixed styles of architecture are anomalous. There is certainly an air of the grotesque in the combination of Mudéjar windows, cusped arches, columns, and azulejos, and Renaissance and Gothic features. But despite the element of incongruity, the effect is often pleasing, while the mingling of the styles is especially interesting from the historical point of view.

In dress Charles was economical. He went to Italy in a shabby suit, hoping by his example to check the tendency to extravagance displayed by his courtiers and the nobles of Spain. His servants were sometimes in tattered clothes.

WE have noted that in the Visigoth and Moorish periods Seville was a centre of literature and the arts. The Christians had their St. Isidore, a famed historian and theological writer, and the Moriscoes acclaimed the sagacious El Begi, 'whose knowledge was a marvel.' Many Moorish scribes laboured in the city before San Fernando regained it for the Spaniards; but very few of their names have lived through the stress of turbulent times, when every man was for fighting, and art and letters languished.

When we reach the fifteenth century, we find that certain enterprising German printers set up presses in Seville, and that books, such as Diego de Valera's Cronica de España, were printed and published.

The printing press gradually destroyed the wonderful art of the illuminated missal, in which the monks excelled, and letterpress began to supersede manuscript. In the Cathedral Library of Seville is the great Bible of Pedro de Pampeluna, in two volumes. It was transcribed for Alfonso the Learned, and the work is perhaps unmatched. Rich illuminations abound in the pages, testifying to the skill and the patience of the artist.

At this time also secular dramas began to take the place of mystery plays. The theatre has remained one of the favourite recreations of the Spanish people, and on the modern stage serious plays, dealing with social problems, are often produced. Among the playwrights of Spain the name of Lope de Rueda is held in reverence, for it was he who opened the way for them. 'The real father of the Spanish theatre' was a native of Seville, and by trade a goldsmith. From 1560 to 1590, the dramas of Lope de Rueda were performed in Seville. Cervantes may have been influenced by this pioneer of dramatic art, for, as a youth, he saw Lope de Rueda act.

In his zenith, the player's stage consisted of half-a-dozen planks, laid upon four benches. There was no scenery. Old blankets served as curtain and 'back sheet.' Between the acts a few singers sang without any instrumental accompaniment. With such primitive paraphernalia this Thespian travelled about with his company of mummers, writing his own dramas, and acting in them. He died about the year 1567.

Contemporary with Lope de Rueda and Cervantes was Domingo de Bercerra, who was born in the city in 1535. During the campaign with the Turks, he was seized by Moorish pirates and taken prisoner with Cervantes to Algiers. De Bercerra is known for his translation of Giovanni della Casa's Il Galateo. Hieronimo Carranza, who wrote Philosophia y destreza de las Armas, and Juan de la Cueva, writer of plays and poems, lived in Seville at this time.

Rodrigo Caro, the historian, and one of the Sevillian authors, says in his Illustrious Men, Natives of Seville, that Herrera 'understood Latin perfectly, and wrote several epigrams in that language, which might rival the most famous ancient authors in thought and expression. He possessed a moderate knowledge of Greek.' The prose writings of 'the divine Herrera' are marked with the same beauty as his poetry. He wrote a great general history of his country, up to the reign of Carlos V., and earned from Lope de Vega the title of 'the Learned.'

We learn that Fernando de Herrera was a tall man, with a handsome countenance, thick curling hair, and a beard. The love of his life appears to have been 'spiritual'; he was enamoured of Eliodora, Countess of Gelves. This adoration was of the nature of that manifested by Dante for Beatrice. The poet calls his divinity 'Love,' 'Sun,' and 'Star,' but there is an unreality in his odes to the Countess. We read, too, that Herrera was well read in philosophy, and expert in mathematics.

The genial Pacheco is perhaps better known as a writer upon painting, and a maker of Latin verse, than as an artist with the brush. His great book on art, Arte de la Pintura, was published in 1649. It is anecdotal, technical and historical, and displays the credulity of the writer in regard to the miraculous. He had the honour of training Velazquez, his future son-in-law, and the satisfaction of discovering the power of his young pupil.

Other writers describe the architecture of the palace as pseudo-Moorish. It is indeed a mixture of Gothic, Moorish, and Renaissance designs, adorned with azulejos, the decorations being Mudéjar for the greater part. Pacheco, the friend of the Duke de Alcalá, painted the salon.

Mr. M. Digby Wyatt, in his valuable work, An Architect's Note Book in Spain, describes the Casa Pilatos as possessing two special 'points of architectural value,' i.e., 'the entirely Moresque character of the stucco work at a comparatively late date, and the profuse use of azulejos or coloured tiles. It is ... in and about the splendid staircase that this charming tile lining, of the use of which we have here of late years commenced a very satisfactory revival, asserts its value as a beautiful mode of introducing clean and permanent polychromatic decoration.'

In 1588, Miguel de Servantes Saavedra, otherwise Cervantes, lived in the city. In his twenty-first year, while at Madrid, he had written a pastoral poem called Filena, some sonnets and canzonets. A few years later he obtained a position as chamberlain to Cardinal Julio Aquaviva at Rome; but he was not long in Italy. The love of adventure inspired him to enlist in the expedition force sent by Philip II. against Selim the Grand Turk. At the famous battle of Lepanto the young soldier received a wound in the left hand, which necessitated amputation. The surgeons bungled, and Cervantes lost the use of his arm. Still, he continued to serve as a private soldier in the ranks.

The clouds lifted slightly. In 1595 'Miguel Cervantes Saavedra of Seville' won the prize offered by the Dominicans of Zaragoza for a series of poems in honour of St. Hyacinthus. He appears to have earned his living at this period as a tax-gatherer. Sometimes he was to be found at Pacheco's house, and at the Casa Pilatos. Cervantes discerned the genius of Herrera, and the two poets became friends. A sonnet in praise of Herrera was written by Cervantes.

Fresh trouble beset the unfortunate author. 'About this period Cervantes fell into the first of his money troubles,' writes Mr. Watts, in his Miguel de Cervantes, 'in connection with his office. Having to remit a sum of 7,400 reals from Seville to Madrid, he entrusted it to the hands of one Simon Freire, as his agent. Freire became bankrupt, and fled from Spain. This involved Cervantes in a debt to the crown, for which, being unable to pay, he was thrown into prison. Having reduced the amount by what he recovered from the bankrupt estate of Freire to 2,600 reals, Cervantes was released after a detention of three months. Neither then, nor at any time afterwards—although the affair hung over him to trouble him for many years—was there any charge implicating his own personal rectitude.'

In 1605 Don Quixote was published, in a quarto volume, by Juan de la Cuesta of Madrid. Within seven months the book had reached its fourth edition. W. H. Prescott, in his essay on 'Cervantes,' states that two editions were issued in Madrid, one in Valencia, and one in Lisbon. Yet the author was not relieved of the burden of poverty. Fame sounded his name far and wide. But he had sold the copyright of his romance. And although his reputation was established beyond all doubt, he does not appear to have been in a position to obtain worthier remuneration for his labours. What is perhaps more strange, the leading incidents of his life were scarcely known in Spain when his first biographer, Mayans y Siscar, essayed a history of the great writer's career. Seven towns claimed him as a native when Tonson, in London, issued the first English edition in 1738.

'If Cervantes, like his great contemporary, Shakespeare, has left few authentic details of his existence,' writes Prescott, 'the deficiency has been diligently supplied in both cases by speculation and conjecture.'

In the Calle de Santa Clara in Seville is the Casa de los Marqueses de Castromonte, a house mentioned by Cervantes in his novel, La Española Inglesa ('The Spanish-English Lady'). This novela relates the adventures of a Cadiz maiden, who was carried to England by one of the Earl of Essex's captains in 1596.

We must now quit the stately Casa Pilatos, with its great literary traditions, and briefly note a few more of the writers who are associated with Seville. One of these is the novelist Cecilia Boehl von Faber, of German descent, who wrote under the nom de plume of Fernán Caballero. This gifted authoress wrote several novels of social life in Spain, in which she did not flinch from attacking faulty institutions. She had even the courage to condemn the national pastime of bull-fighting, an institution that very few Spaniards have ventured to call in question. Fernán Caballero lived in the street that bears her pen-name, and a tablet will be found upon the house which she occupied.

Mateo Aleman, author of Guzman de Alfarache, who is sometimes ranked next to Cervantes, lived in the parish of San Nicolas. Alberto Lista, the poet, also resided in Seville.

Lord Byron was here in August 1809. In a letter he writes:—

The elder of the two ladies presented Byron with a tress of her hair, measuring about three feet in length, and begged a lock of his lordship's hair in return.

I have already mentioned Blanco White, who was born in Seville, and wrote Letters from Spain, in the name of Leucadio Doblado. His reminiscences should be read for the pictures of Sevillian society, in the early part of this century. White's Life, by J. H. Thorn, was published in London, in 1845.

Théophile Gautier spent some time in the city, and related his impressions in his Voyage en Espagne, which is the most ably written of all books upon Spanish places and people. The author of Mademoiselle de Maupin excels in his descriptions of Seville, its monuments, paintings, and its life and character. He praises the charms of Sevillian doñas, declaring that they 'quite deserve the reputation for beauty which they enjoy.'

George Borrow does not write in flattering terms of the Andalusians. He says: 'I lived in the greatest retirement during the whole time that I passed at Seville, spending the greater part of each day in study, or in that half-dreamy state of inactivity which is the natural effect of the influence of a warm climate. There was little in the character of the people around to induce me to enter much into society. The higher class of the Andalusians are probably upon the whole the most vain and foolish of human beings.' ...

Such was Borrow's opinion of the society of Seville. He appeared to be quite as contemptuous of the frivolous rich class as he was of most scholars and literary men. Fashionable London was never able to 'lionise' Bohemian Borrow. He loved 'the wind on the heath,' the song of the waves on the Norfolk coast, the purple sierras of Spain, and the company of those children of nature, the Kaulos of Britain and the Zincalis of Castile. Elsewhere, however, in his writings, George Borrow speaks highly of the Spaniards in general. It was the pretensions of 'respectability,' whether in Spain or England, that called forth his pungent sarcasms.

We must not forget that a famous prelate of the Roman Catholic Church, Cardinal Wiseman, was born at Seville, in 1802.

The dispersal of the cultured circle of Casa Pilatos would seem to mark the hour of the beginning of the decline of literature and the arts in Seville. We may feel astonishment that the writers of the Inquisition times were able to publish any works save those of theology, church history, or devotion. But we must remember that Pacheco was a cleric, that Góngora was a priest, and that Rioja held a post in the Holy Office. Antonio, the bibliographer, was a canon of the Cathedral, and Cervantes was a staunch Catholic. These authors were safe; they were either priests of the Church or sworn defenders of the faith.

Philosophers, scientific writers, and heterodox thinkers were unable to survive their environment. New thought was stamped out as soon as it was uttered, and it was seldom indeed that bold spirits dared to express innovating opinion. The greatest writer could scarcely subsist upon the earnings of his pen. He was forced, as in the case of Cervantes, Calderon, and Lope de Vega, among many other authors, to enter the army. The choice lay between the military and the ecclesiastic professions. Outside of these no man possessed a status.

Classical learning was fostered in Seville by Antonio de Lebrixa, who lectured in the University, about 1473. Lebrixa had studied for ten years in Italy. He was opposed by the Sevillian clergy, who claimed sole authority in instruction; but fortunately Lebrixa found favour with influential persons, and so contrived to save himself from persecution. Queen Isabella had lessons from the learned Lebrixa, who may be called the Erasmus of Spain. But the royal tutor narrowly escaped the awful punishments of the Holy Tribunal, under Deza, Archbishop of Seville, and successor of Torquemada. The Inquisitor-General commanded the manuscripts of Lebrixa to be seized, and accused him of heresy for making corrections on the text of the Vulgate, and for his exposition of passages of Scripture.

'Is it not enough that I submit my judgment to the will of Christ in the Scriptures? Must I also reject as false what is as clear and evident as the light of truth itself? What tyranny! to hinder a man, under the most cruel pains, from saying what he thinks, though he express himself with the utmost respect for religion! to forbid him to write in his closet or in the solitude of a prison! to speak to himself, or even to think! On what subject shall we employ our thoughts, if we are prohibited from directing them to those sacred oracles which have been the delight of the pious in every age, and on which they have meditated by day and by night.'

Lebrixa here eloquently announces the right of the layman to translate the Scriptures and to expound religion. He claims that liberty of inquiry and of speech which belongs to every man. His case is typical of the vast difficulties that encompassed all thinkers of his age.

Science and letters were not only hindered by the Church. Some of the kings of Spain were hostile towards learning, while others were apathetic. Carlos IV. instructed his Prime Minister to inform the heads of universities that 'what His Majesty wanted was not philosophers, but loyal subjects.' It was no uncommon custom of the inquisitors to enter private libraries, and to carry away such books as they considered heretical or dangerous.