The Alcazar
“The Alcazar,” says Señor Rafaél Contreras, “is not a classic work, nor does it present to-day that stamp of originality and that ineffaceable character which distinguish ancient works like the Parthenon and modern works like the Escorial. In the Alcazar of Yakub Yusuf the influence of the heroic generation has faded away, and it portrays instead the daily life of our Christian kings who have enriched it with a thousand pages of glorious history. The Almohades, who impressed on the building their African characteristics in 1181, and Jalubi, who had been a follower of Al-Mehdi in the conquest of Africa, left on its walls traces of the Roman influences met with in the course of their movements. St Ferdinand, who conquered it, Don Pedro I., who restored it, Don Juan II., who reconstructed the most elegant apartments, the Catholic sovereigns, who built within its precincts chapels and oratories, Charles V., who added more than a half in the modified style of that epoch of the Renaissance, Philip III. and Philip V., who enlarged it still more by building in the adjacent gardens—these, and other princes who inhabited it during six centuries, have changed the original structure to such an extent that to-day it is far from being a monument of oriental art, though we find it covered with fine arabesques and embellished with mosaics and gilding.”
Though not a monument of oriental art, the Alcazar seems to us to have claims to rank as a specimen of Moorish architecture; for the general character of the structure was determined by the restorations effected by order of Pedro I., and these were, probably exclusively, the work of Moorish artisans, not only of Seville, but from Granada, then a Moorish city. This accounts for the resemblance of this palace to the more famous Alhambra. But the Alcazar is not to be dismissed as a mere pseudo-Moorish palace. It remains, to a great extent, the work of Moorish hands and the conception of Moorish architects.
In spite of the severe strictures of fastidious observers, the Alcazar produces a very pleasing impression on northern visitors. Mr W. M. Gallichan writes: “It is a palace of dreams, encircled 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.... The nightingales still sing among the odorous orange bloom, and in the tangles of roses birds still 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 this garden the musicians played and the tawny dancers writhed and curved their lissome bodies, in dramatic Eastern dances. Ichabod! The moody potentate, bowed down with the cares of high office, no longer treads the dim corridor or lingers in the shade of the palm trees, lost in cogitation. No sound of gaiety reverberates in the deserted courts; no voice of orator is heard in the Hall of Justice. The green lizards bask on the deserted benches of the gardens. Rose petals strew the paved paths. One’s footsteps echo in the gorgeous patios, whose walls have witnessed many a scene of pomp, tragedy, and pathos. The spell of the past holds one; and before the imagination troops a long procession of illustrious sovereigns, courtiers, counsellors, and menials.”
The Alcazar, as we have said, at the time of the reconquest covered a much larger space than at present; and its area was even greater in the days of Pedro I. Its strength as a fortress may be gauged by a glance at the remaining walls, adjacent to the principal entrance. In the Plaza de Santo Tomas is an octagonal, one-storeyed tower, called the Torre de Abdalasis, which once formed part of the building, and is said to have been the spot on which St Ferdinand hoisted his flag on the fall of Seville. To enter the palace we pass across the Plaza del Triunfo and enter the Patio de las Banderas, so called either because a flag was hoisted here when the royal family were in residence or on account of the trophy displayed over one of the arches, composed of the Arms of Spain with supporting flags. From this court a colonnade called the Apeadero leads to the Patio de la Monteria. It was built, as an inscription over the portal records, by Philip III. in 1607, and restored and devoted to the purposes of an armoury by the fifth sovereign of that name in 1729. The Patio de la Monteria derives its name from the Royal Lifeguards, the Monteros de Espinosa, having their quarters here. These courts, with the commonplace private houses which surround them, occupy the site of the old Moorish palace of the Almohades. Some of the houses exhibit vestiges of fine Musulman work. The house No. 3 of the Patio de las Banderas formed part, in the opinion of Gestoso y Perez, of the Stucco Palace (Palacio del Yeso) mentioned by Ayala as having been built by Pedro I. That potentate, it is worthy of remark, was accustomed to administer justice, tempered with ferocity, after the oriental fashion, seated on a stone bench in a corner of this patio. The room in which the Almohade governors presided over their tribunals still exists. It is surrounded by houses, and is entered from the Patio de la Monteria. Contreras sees in this hall (the Sala de Justicia) the traces of a work anterior to the ninth century. It was, however, restored by Pedro. It is square, and measures nine metres across. The ceiling is of stucco and adorned with stars, wreaths, and a painted frieze. Inscriptions in beautiful Cufic characters constitute the principal decoration of the apartment. Round the four walls runs a tastefully worked stucco frieze, interrupted by several right-angled apertures. These were once covered, in the opinion of Herr Schmidt, by screens of plaster, which kept out the sun’s heat but admitted the light; or, according to Gestoso y Perez, by tapestries “which must have made the hall appear a miracle of wealth and splendour.” Thanks to its isolation, the Sala de Justicia escaped the “restoration” effected in the middle of the nineteenth century by order of the Duc de Montpensier.
It was in this hall (often overlooked by visitors) that Don Pedro overheard four judges discussing the division of a bribe they had received. They were beheaded on the spot, and their skulls are still to be seen in the walls of the king’s bed-chamber.
From the Patio de la Monteria we pass into the Patio del Leon. In the fifteenth century, we read, tournaments were often held here. Our attention is at once directed to the superb façade of the main building or Alcazar proper—the palace of Don Pedro. It is a splendid work of art. The columns are of rare marble with elegant Moorish capitals. The portal is imposing, and was rebuilt by Don Pedro, as the legend in curious Gothic characters informs us: ‘The most high, the most noble, the most powerful, and most victorious Don Pedro, King of Castile and Leon, commanded these palaces, these alcazares, and these entrances to be made in the year [of Cæsar] one thousand four hundred and two” (1364). Elsewhere on the façade are the oft-repeated inscriptions in Cufic characters: “There is no conqueror but Allah,” “Glory to our lord, the Sultan,” “Eternal glory to Allah,” “Eternal is the dominion of Allah,” etc.
This gate, in the opinion of Contreras, is of Arabic origin and in the Persian style, after which were built most of the entrances to mosques of the first period. The square opening is often seen in Egypt, and supplanted the more graceful horse-shoe arch. The pilasters are Arabic throughout; but the arch balconies, the Byzantine columns, and Roman capitals are works of Don Pedro’s time.
The palace of the Alcazar forms an irregular oblong. The Patio de las Doncellas or Patio Principal occupies the centre, roughly speaking, and upon it open the various halls and chambers according to the usual Moorish plan. This patio is absurdly named from its being the supposed place in which were collected the hundred damsels said to have been sent by way of annual tribute by Mauregato to the Moors. It is hardly necessary to say that the damsels would have been sent to Cordova, which was the capital of the Khalifate, not to Seville, and that this court was among the restorations of the fourteenth century.
The court is rectangular, and surrounded by a gallery composed of white marble columns in pairs, supporting pointed arches. The soffite (or inner side) of the arch is scalloped or serrated. The central arch in each side is higher and larger than its fellows, and springs from square imposts resting on the twin columns. At each angle of the impost is a graceful little pillar—“a characteristic,” observes Madrazo, “of the Arabic-Grenadine architecture, such as may often be noticed in the magnificent Alhambra of the Alhamares.” Over the arches runs a flowing scroll with Arabic inscriptions, among them being “Glory to our lord the Sultan Don Pedro; may God lend him His aid and render him victorious”, and this very remarkable text, “There is but one God; He is eternal. He was not begotten and does not beget, and He has no equal.” This is evidently an inscription remaining from Musulman days, and spared in their ignorance by the Christian owners of the palace. On the frieze will also be noticed the escutcheons of Don Pedro and the Catholic sovereigns, and the favourite devices of Charles V.—the Pillars of Hercules and motto “Plus Oultre.” Behind the central arches are as many doors with elaborately ornamented arches. On either side of each door is a double window, framed with broad, ornamental bands, with conventional floral designs. Round the inner walls of the arcade runs a high dado of glazed tile mosaic (azulejo), brilliantly coloured and cut with exquisite skill. The combinations and variations of the design repay examination, and will be seen to extend all round the gallery. This decoration was probably executed by Moorish workmen in the time of Pedro I. Finally, above the doors run wide friezes with shuttered windows, through which the light falls on the gleaming mosaic. The ceiling of the gallery dates from the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, but was restored in 1856.
Three recesses in the patio are pointed out as the spots where Don Pedro held his audiences; but Contreras is of opinion that they are the walled-up entrances to former corridors which communicated with the Harem. That apartment probably faced the Salón de los Embajadores.
A wide cornice separates the lower part of the court from the upper gallery. This is composed of balustrades, arches, and columns in white marble of the Ionic order, and was the work of Don Luis de Vega (sixteenth century).
One of the doors opening on to the Patio de las Doncellas gives access to the Salón de los Embajadores (Hall of the Ambassadors), the finest apartment in the Alcazar. Its dazzling splendour is produced by the blending of five distinct styles, the Arabic, Almohade or true Moorish, Gothic, Grenadine or late Moorish, and Renaissance. Measuring about thirty-three feet square, it has four entrances, of which that giving on to the Patio de las Doncellas may be considered the principal. Here we find folding-doors in the Arabic style of extraordinary size and beauty. Each wing is 5.30 metres high by 1.97 broad, and adorned with painted inlaid work, varied by Arabic inscriptions. One of these latter is of great interest. It runs as follows: “Our Lord and Sultan, the exalted and high Don Pedro, King of Castile and Leon (may Allah prosper him and his architect), ordered these doors of carved wood to be made for this apartment (in honour of the noble and fortunate ambassadors), which is a source of joy to the happy city, in which the palaces, the alcazares, and these mansions for my Lord and Master were built, who only showed forth his splendour. The pious and generous Sultan ordered this to be done in the city of Seville with the aid of his intercessor [Saint Peter?] with God. Joy shone in their delightful construction and embellishment. Artificers from Toledo were employed in the work; and this took place in the fortunate year 1404 [1364 A.D.]. Like the evening twilight and the refulgence of the twilight of the aurora is this work. A throne resplendent in brilliant colours and eminence. Praise be to Allah!”
The three remaining portals present graceful round arches, enclosing three lesser arches (forming the actual entrances) of the horse-shoe type. These last are believed, as we have said elsewhere, to be of Abbadite origin. The capitals of their supporting columns are fine examples of the Arab-Byzantine style. Above the horse-shoe arches, and comprised within the outer arch, are three lattices. The whole space within the arch is covered with delicate filigree work.
This hall was once known as the Salón de la Media Naranja (Hall of the Half Orange) from the elegant shaping of its carved wooden ceiling. This rests upon a frieze decorated with the Tower and Lion, and supporting this again are beautiful carved and gilded stalactites or pendants. On the intervening wall spaces are Cufic inscriptions on a blue ground, and female heads painted by sixteenth-century vandals. Then follows another frieze with the devices of Castile and Leon, below which is a row of fifty-six niches, containing the portraits of the kings of Spain from Receswinto the Goth to Philip III. The earliest of these seem to have been painted in the sixteenth century, while the little columns and trefoil windows that separate them may be ascribed to the end of the fourteenth. The series is interrupted by four rectangular spaces, formerly occupied by windows, but now taken up by elegant balconies in wrought iron, the work of Francisco López (1592). The decoration of this magnificent chamber is completed by a high dado of white, blue, and green glazed tiles. It was probably in this hall that Abu Saïd, “the Red King,” was received by Don Pedro prior to his murder.
In an apartment to the right of the Ambassadors’ Hall, a plaster frieze of Arabic origin, showing figures in silhouette, may be noticed; and in a room to the left, other silhouettes, apparently referring to the qualities attributed by his admirers to Pedro I.
On the north side of the Patio de las Doncellas lies the so-called Dormitorio de los Reyes Moros (Bed-chamber of the Moorish Kings). The entrance arch is semicircular, and includes three graceful lattice windows, richly ornamented. On either side of the door is a beautiful double-window with columns dating from the Khalifate. The doors themselves are richly inlaid, and painted with geometrical patterns. The interior of the chamber is adorned, like all other apartments in the Alcazar, with plaster friezes, and is so richly decorated that scarcely a hand’s-breadth (remarks Herr Schmidt) is without ornamentation. To the right of the entrance lies a small apartment known as the Sultan’s Alcove. Opposite the entrance from the patio are three horse-shoe arches belonging to the earliest period of Spanish-Arabic art, leading to an Al-Hami or alcove.
From the Dormitorio we may pass into the quaintly named Patio de las Muñecas, or Puppet’s Court. It is a spot with tragical associations, for here took place the murder of the Master of Santiago, Don Fadrique de Trastamara, by his brother, Don Pedro—a fratricide to be avenged years after by another fratricide at Montiel. The Master, after a campaign in Murcia, had been graciously received by the king, and went to pay his respects to the lovely Maria de Padilla in another part of the palace. It is said that she warned him of his impending fate; perhaps her manner, if not her words, should have aroused him to a sense of his danger; but the soldier prince returned to the royal presence. “Kill the Master of Santiago!” Pedro shouted, so the story goes. The Master’s sword was entangled in his scarf; he was separated from his retinue. He fled to this court, where he was struck down. One of his retainers took refuge in Maria de Padilla’s apartment, where he tried to screen himself by holding the king’s daughter, Doña Beatriz, before his breast. Pedro tore the child away, and despatched the unfortunate man with his own hand.
The Patio de las Muñecas is in the Grenadine style. It has suffered severely at the hands of the restorers of 1833 and 1843. The arches are semicircular and spring from brick pillars, which are supported by marble columns with rich capitals. The arches, which form an arcade round the court, are decorated with fine mosaic and trellis (ajaraca) work. The whole is tastefully painted. The arches vary in size, that looking towards the Ambassadors’ Hall being almost pear-shaped. The columns are of different colours, and the pillars they uphold are inscribed with Cufic characters. The upper part of the patio reveals a not very skilful attempt to imitate the lower.
“The Ambassadors’ Hall as well as the Puppet’s Court,” says Pedro de Madrazo, “are surrounded by elegant saloons, commencing at the principal façade of the Alcazar, running round the north-west angle of the building, adjoining the galleries of the gardens del Principe, de la Gruta, and de la Danza, and terminating at the south-eastern angle of the Patio de las Doncellas. Here is now the chapel, and there it is believed that the luxurious apartment of the Caracol (inhabited by Maria de Padilla) stood. This part was, without doubt, that which was called the Palacio del Yeso, or Stucco Palace, on account of the plaster decorations in the fashion of Granada; but in which of these rooms Don Pedro was playing draughts when the Master of Santiago appeared before him, it is impossible to say with certainty.”
The Salón del Principe occupies the upper floor of the chief façade, and receives light through the beautiful ajimices or twin-windows so noticeable from without. This spacious hall is divided into three compartments, each of which has a fine ceiling. Two have been restored, but the third was the work of Juan de Simancas in the year 1543. The scheme of decoration is Moorish. The columns in this hall and the adjoinng apartments are of marble, with rich capitals. According to Zurita (quoted by Madrazo), these columns came from the royal palace at Valencia, after the defeat of Pedro of Aragon by the King of Castile.
The oratory was built by order of Ferdinand and Isabella in 1504. It contains an admirable retablo in blue glazed tiles—probably the finest work of the kind in Spain—designed by an Italian, Francesco Niculoso. The centre-piece represents the Visitation. It is believed that some parts of the work were drawn by Pedro Millán, a sculptor of Seville.
The oratory is on the upper floor of the palace. On the same storey is the Comedor, or dining-hall, a long, narrow room with a fine fifteenth-century ceiling, and good tapestries on the walls. A more interesting apartment is the bed-chamber of Don Pedro, which has a good carved roof and dados of azulejos and stucco. Over the door four heads may be seen painted. They represent the skulls of the corrupt judges on whom the unjust king executed summary justice. The decoration of this chamber is of the sixteenth century.
The royal apartments on this floor contain several important works of art. In the room of the Infantes is a portrait of Maria Luisa by Goya. The Salón Azul (Blue Room), so-called from the colour of its tapestries, contains some fine pastel paintings by Muraton, and some notable miniatures on ivory. The portraits of the family of Isabel II. by Bartolomé López are worthy of inspection.
Returning to the ground floor, we enter the spacious Salón de Carlos V., occupying one side of the Patio de las Doncellas. Here, it is asserted, St Ferdinand died; but it is more probable that he expired in the old Moorish Alcazar. The fine ceiling, decorated with the heads of warriors and ladies, was built by the Emperor after whom the hall is named. The stucco and the work are very beautiful.
An uninteresting apartment was erected by Ferdinand VI. over the famous Baths of Maria de Padilla, which are approached through an arched entrance, and, surrounded by thick walls, have more the appearance of a dungeon than of a resort of Love and Beauty. The pool still remains where the lovely favourite bathed her fair limbs. In her time it had no other roof than the blue sky of Andalusia, and no further protection from prying eyes than that afforded by the orange and lemon trees. At Pedro’s court it was esteemed a mark of gallantry and loyalty to drink the waters of the bath, after Maria had performed her ablutions. Observing that one of his knights refrained from this act of homage, the king questioned him and elicited the reply, “I dare not drink of the water, lest, having tasted the sauce, I should covet the partridge.” These baths were no doubt used by the ladies of the harem in Moorish days.
The gardens of the Alcazar form a delicious pleasaunce, where the orange and the citron diffuse their fragrance, and fairy-like fountains spring up suddenly beneath the unwary passenger’s feet, sprinkling him with a cooling and perhaps not unwelcome dew. But this paradise has its serpent, and that is the truculent shade of the cruel king, which for ever seems to haunt the Alcazar. Here Pedro prowled one day, when four candidates for the office of judge presented themselves before him. To test their fitness for the post, the king pointed to an orange floating on the surface of a pool close by. He asked each of the lawyers in succession what the floating object was. The three first replied without consideration, “An orange, sire.” But the fourth drew the fruit from the water with his staff, glanced at it, and replied with absolute accuracy, “Half an orange, sire.” He was appointed to the vacant magistracy.
Before leaving the Alcazar, we will briefly summarise the history of its transformations and reconstructions. As we have seen, the palace generally may be considered the work of Don Pedro. In the reign of Juan II., the Salón de los Embajadores was enriched with its fine cupola. A tablet, discovered in 1843, testifies that the architect was Don Diego Roiz, and that the artisans employed in the work were made freemen of the city.
Various parts of the building were built or reconstructed by order of Ferdinand and Isabella. The architects were for the most part Christianised Moors, among whom are mentioned Maestre Mohammed Agudo (1479), Juan Fernandez (1479), Diego Fernandez (1496), and Francisco Fernandez. The latter was appointed Master of the Alcazar in 1502, and previous to his adoption of Catholicism was named Hamet Kubeji. According to Gestoso y Perez, a surprising number of artificers and craftsmen were engaged about the Alcazar at this time, a powerful inducement being exemption from taxes and military service. The names of Juan and Francisco de Limpias (1479-1540) have been preserved among the carpenters; and Diego Sanchez (1437), Alfonso Ruiz (1479), and the two Sanchez de Castro (1500), among the painters.
Several improvements were carried out under Charles V. and Philip II., and a great deal of restoration was unfortunately necessitated by the fires which seemed to break out with increasing frequency during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Still more disastrous was the effect of the great earthquake of 1755. Then began the reign of the vandal, which did more damage to the palace than time, fire, and earthquake combined.
In 1762, the minister Wall ordered the Alcazar to be repaired in “the modern manner.” The ceilings which had been destroyed by fire were replaced by others much too low, and valuable arabesques were recklessly sacrificed. In 1805, some director with a genius for transmogrification whitewashed the fine stucco work in the Salon del Principe, and altered the main entrance. He also substituted a plaster ceiling for the bowl-shaped Arab roofing, and made strenuous efforts to impair the beauty of the Ambassadors’ Hall. In 1833 a reaction took place. Don Joaquin Cortes and Señor Raso effected an artistic and sympathetic restoration both of the Prince’s Hall and the Patio de las Muñecas. A more serious restoration was begun in 1842, at the instance of the administrator, Don Domingo de Alcega. The artist Becquer contributed materially to the success of the work. In the ’fifties, the task of replacing and restoring the stucco ornamentation was completed; and under Isabel II. the thirty-six arches of the Patio de las Doncellas were restored. Since that date the reconstructions have not always displayed good taste; but the revival of interest in her ancient monuments which has taken place in Spain of late years encourages us to hope, at least, that the appalling blunders of the early nineteenth century will never be repeated.
After the Alcazar, the most noteworthy monument in Seville, dating from the reign of Don Pedro, is the church of Omnium Sanctorum. This edifice occupies the site of a Roman temple, and was built by the Cruel King in 1356. It exhibits a very happy combination of the Moorish and Gothic styles. It is entered by three ogival doors, and is divided into three naves. To the left of the façade is a graceful tower, the first storey of which is Moorish, ornamented somewhat after the style of the Giralda. On one of the doors is a shield bearing the arms of Portugal, which, tradition says, commemorates the pious generosity of Diniz, king of that country, when he visited Alfonso the Wise. If the Sevillians have writ their annals true, this goes to prove that an earlier structure than the present must have existed here. This, by the way, was the parish church of Rioja the poet.
San Lorenzo exhibits the fusion of the contending styles in an interesting fashion. It has five naves; and the horseshoe windows in its tower were converted into ogives at the time of its adaptation to the Christian cult. The arcades of the naves are ogival in the middle, and become by degrees semi-circular towards the extremities as the roof becomes lower. This church contains the miraculous picture of Nuestra Señora de Rocamadour. Rocamadour, in southern France, was a celebrated shrine of pilgrims in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.
Several other churches in Seville date from this epoch, and present, to a greater or less extent, evidences of the conflict between the Moorish and Gothic styles. In addition to those mentioned, Madrazo names the following: Santa Marina, San Ildefonso, San Vicente, San Julián, San Esteban, Santa Catalina, San Andrés, San Miguel, San Nicolas, San Martin, San Gil, Santa Lucia, San Pedro, and San Isidoro. When a mosque was converted into a Christian church, the same authority remarks, the horseshoe arch was pointed, bells were placed in the minaret, and the orientation was altered from north to south, to east to west. The five last-named churches were erected in the thirteenth century. Santa Maria de las Nieves was, until the year 1391, a synagogue. The decoration is in the plateresco style, and the doors are Gothic. The church contains a painting by Luis de Vargas, and a picture attributed to Murillo.
Nearly in the centre of the city is the Convent of Santa Inés, with a beautiful and tastefully restored chapel. The façade is ancient and graceful. This church contains the remains (said to be uncorrupted) of the foundress, Doña Maria Coronel, one of Don Pedro’s numerous victims. That monarch had conceived a violent passion for her, in the hopes of gratifying which he put her husband to death in the Torre del Oro. The widow, far from yielding to his solicitations, took the veil, and at last, to secure herself from his persecutions, destroyed her beauty by means of vitriol—a species of self-immolation much applauded by the devout in the ages of faith. Her sister, Doña Aldonza, was less successful in resisting the ardent monarch, but died, in the odour of sanctity, Abbess of Santa Inés.
Among the secular buildings erected under the Castilian régime was the existing Tower of Don Fadrique, standing in the gardens of the Convent of the Poor Clares. It was named after the son of St Ferdinand and Beatriz of Swabia, who was put to death by Alfonso el Sabio in 1276. The tower is a fine square structure of Roman workmanship, seemingly, in its lowest floor, and showing a mixture of Moorish and Gothic architecture in its upper half. It formed part of a sumptuous palace erected in 1252, and bestowed in 1289 on the Poor Clares by King Sancho the Brave.
In the Calle Guzman el Bueno is a mansion called the Casa Olea. It contains a fine hall, 8½ metres square, the work of Moorish artisans of the time of Don Pedro. The beautiful inlaid and gilded artesonado ceiling was removed about a century ago; light is admitted through windows of the horseshoe pattern, and the decorations consist of the characteristic stucco-work, latticing, and ajaraca or trellis-work, as fine as any to be seen at the Lindaraja of Granada. The dado of coloured tiles has almost completely disappeared. The Palacio de Montijo, near the church of Omnium Sanctorum, reveals many traces of Mudejar workmanship, as also does a hall in the Casa morisca of the Calle de Abades—not to be confounded with the Casa de Abades, belonging to the Renaissance.
Seville in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries possessed no doubt many palaces and private dwellings of magnificence; but it was in ecclesiastical architecture that the spirit of the age found its truest expression and noblest monuments.