Postcard from Sintra, Portugal: The Opulence of the Pena Palace

Climbing up higher than the old Moorish Castle, one reaches a site where humble monks seeking an isolated retreat free from distractions established a monastery. Following the return of Vasco da Gama, King Manuel I (1469-1521) constructed a stone palace astride the hilltop as part of his celebration of Portugal’s vast new riches.

From 1840 to 1885, however, King Ferdinand II (1816-1885) transformed the Pena Palace into an overwhelming, over-embellished symbol of the aristocratic follies of European royalty (This was not the sole palace.) – a stunningly magical mélange of ornate Gothic, Renaissance, Moorish and Manueline architectural details.

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Crumbling colonial power increasingly led to economic distress in the country, and King Carlos (1863-1908) resorted to dissolving the Parliament and assigning dictatorial powers to his prime minister. Discontent mounted, and brazen assassins fired into the open royal carriage as the King and his family traversed one of Lisboa’s main plazas. King Carlos and his eldest son were killed.

His second-born son, Manuel (1889-1932), succeeded him, only to be forced to flee to England in 1910. Manuel II was Portugal’s last king.

Amazingly, the leaders of the new republic preserved the palace and its lavish furnishings virtually intact.

Postcard from Sintra, Portugal: Mounting the Moorish Castle

Stair-stepped trails cushioned with leaves and pine needles wind their way up from Sintra through the heavily forested Park of Pena – up and up, higher and higher – to the Moorish Castle.

Not one, but two walls, encircle and fortify the post established by invading Moors during the 10th century to provide views to protect their claim. And what views their towers provided, out across the surrounding hills and valleys clear to the sea, five or six miles away.

While the post was secure, Moorish forces in Lisboa nearby were not. Soldiers of the Second Crusade joined forces with those of King Alonso I of Portugal in the summer of 1147 and surrounded the city. After a four-month siege imprisoning them, the starving Moors finally surrendered, a surrender including the fortress.

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Assuming duty on a blustery day must have been dangerous. Truly scared the winds snatching at my long, full skirt and sun-shading sombrero would send us soaring like a kite over the ramparts and crashing into the valley below. The fear led to failure to conquer the absolutely highest outlook.

But even this geographical dominance was subject to one-upmanship. A subsequent post.