THE GIRALDA. Whilst all traces of the Roman occupation of Seville and its neighbourhood have so nearly disappeared, the Arabs have left their mark indelibly. The city is Moorish in style and character. The streets consist of labyrinths of narrow winding lanes like those of Toledo or Cordova. Grilles of light airy iron-work open into patios, bright with fountains and flowers and greenery. Even the modern houses retain this old Moorish arrangement, which is admirably adapted to the climate, securing cool shade, and a constant current of air. The Casa del Pilatos is a good specimen of this style of building. It was erected early in the sixteenth century by the Marquis of Tarifa, on his return from Jerusalem, in imitation of the so-called house of Pontius Pilate there. The principal court is very fine, with exquisite arabesque work, antique statuary, well-proportioned columns, and a marble fountain, supported by a group of well-designed dolphins, in the centre. its name. By far the finest relic of purely Moorish architecture in the city is the tower of the Giralda. It rises to a height of about three hundred and fifty feet, from the angle of the Patio de los Narranjos, or Court of Orange-trees, and is surmounted by a vane or weathercock (girandola) from which it takes This weathercock is the figure of a woman, which, though it weighs nearly three tons, is yet so finely balanced that it turns at the slightest breeze. Oddly enough, it represents Faith, and innumerable are the jokes current in Spain at the expense of the Sevillanos, who have chosen a woman and a weathercock-the emblems of fickleness and inconstancy-to represent the virtue which ought to be, before all things, steadfast. The Giralda is the most elegant structure of the kind in Spain, perhaps in Europe. I have seen it under all aspects, and am at a loss to say under which it looks most lovely-whether rising into the deep, radiant blue of an Andalusian noontide, flooded by a light so intense that every detail of fretwork, and arabesque, and fresco comes out with the utmost vividness; or on the night of some high festival, when the belfry lights seem so unconnected with earth and so far up in the sky that they look like strange lurid stars; or, perhaps more beautiful than all, in the brilliant light of a full moon, when everything is bathed in a fine white radiance, brilliant enough to bring out the marvellous beauty of the tower, and yet kindly veiling the marks of decay which deface it. So sensitive were the Moors to its beauty, that when Seville was conquered by Ferdinand they had arranged to destroy it before surrendering the city, that it might not fall into the hands of their enemies. They were only prevented from fulfilling their purpose by the threat that, if they did so, the city itself should be given up to be sacked by the troops. The vane and the belfry on which it rests are comparatively modern additions. In the time of the Moors the tower terminated with an immense iron globe plated with burnished gold, which is said by Arab chroniclers to have reflected the sun's beams so brilliantly as almost to rival the sun itself. The tower originally formed part of the great mosque of Seville. Immediately below the gilded ball was the gallery from which the muezzin called the people to prayers. Every morning the solemn cry, so familiar throughout the Moslem world, was heard, "Great is Allah! There is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet Come to prayer! Prayer is better than sleep!" The cry was caught up and echoed from the towers of innumerable mosques throughout the city. The people aroused by it looked up and saw the beautiful Giralda in the pure light of dawn, the figure of the muezzin standing out clear and sharp against the morning sky, and the gilded globe, high above all, shining like a new sun in the heavens. |