prowess as a soldier, and in the wars with the Christians he triumphed
in fifty-six battles. Even when stricken by illness, Almanzor went to
the field in a litter, and directed the movements of his force in their
attacks on the infidels. Always scheming for authority, he contrived to
usurp rule in Andalusia. The attainment of his desire did not yield him
complete felicity, for he once wept at the thought that war would one
day destroy his sway and level his magnificent palace.
Under Almanzor Cordova grew in might and was still regarded as the
wonder of the Moslem world. The Vizier was a man of culture, a clever
diplomatist, and a valorous soldier. Conde says that in battle ‘he
resembled a raging panther, leaping on the prey and thirsting for
blood.’ In times of peace he held poetical tournaments, rewarding the
victorious poets with heavy prizes of money for their verses. Almanzor
was the founder of Ez-Zahirah, a town which grew up in the vicinity of
Ez-Zahra. It contained a resplendent palace, which was two years in the
building. Here the monarch maintained a court, and received foreign
potentates, with much ceremony and parade of wealth.
Cordova saw the first signs of impending decadence when Almanzor died,
and his son Muzaffar came in to rule. Under Almanzor the glory of the
city reached its culmination. ‘Do not make war on these people, for by
the Lord we have seen the earth yielding them its hidden treasures,’ was
the counsel of the Sclavonian ambassadors, after they had sojourned in
Cordova, and seen the wonders and riches of Ez-Zahra and Ez-Zahirah
displayed before their dazzled eyes. Vast were the resources and the
armaments of these three marvellous cities, and famous for valour were
their sons. Almanzor forged thousands of blades and spears, and the
yield of his shield manufactory was twelve thousand in one year.
And yet power, pomp, learning and the arts--all decayed with the waning
of the great Omeyyad dynasty. The ripe fruit of this fine civilisation
seems to have rotted rapidly. Such social science as the Moors possessed
could not save it from destruction; the arts of war, in which the makers
of Kordhobah were so excellent, failed against the inexorable march of
decadence. Boastful imperialism and luxury ate out the heart of the
city, till it could not withstand the savage Berber mob. Complete
disorder prevailed, palaces were wrecked, mosques were pillaged,
treasure looted, gardens laid waste, and the largest library in the
world was ransacked and plundered.
We can scarcely form a conception of all the beauteous edifices, the
noble works of artist and craftsman, that perished in this last
upheaval. Almanzor’s palace was ruthlessly burned to the ground. The
city claimed to be an independent republic. Robbers swarmed in the holy
fanes, and murderers rushed red-handed through the streets.
In A.D. 1010 the Berbers attacked Ez-Zahra, and killed its defenders
with savage ferocity. Even within the mosque the fugitive citizens were
not safe from the swords of the invading barbarians. Led by Ibn Hishaim
Ibn Abd-l-Jabbar, the rebels swooped upon Cordova. The glorious art
treasures of Ez-Zahirah were seized by the troops, and the mansions were
destroyed by fire. Baghdad and other towns of the east became the
storehouses of the jewels, plate, books, and pictures which were stolen
from Cordova; and the uncultured horde came into possession under the
leadership of Suleyman. Only vestiges of Cordova’s pristine grandeur
survived this period of frenzied rapine.
Lamentable was the fall of this centre of wisdom, virtue, refinement,
and the arts. Nothing could restore its majesty and pre-eminence.
Misruled by discordant factions, Cordova lingered moribund, a sad
spectacle of shattered might. It has never regained a tithe of its
former supremacy. The drowsy city lives on its memories of greatness.
In 1235 Ferdinand III.--the doughty Christian warrior San Fernando--took
the city at the point of the sword, and reclaimed it from the alien
heretic.
Spain rejoiced at this capture of the capital of Moorish power. It was
a triumph for the soldiers of the Cross. Most of the vanquished
Cordovans took refuge in Granada; the ‘reconciled’ sullenly accepted the
conditions imposed upon them, and remained in the city. Such was the
downfall of the Khalifs. The Christians established rule in the
despoiled capital; the mosque was purified from its taint of the Moslem,
and dedicated to the worship of God and the Virgin, and one by one the
hundreds of baths fell into disuse, for cleanliness was not a canon of
the victorious faith.
The coming of San Fernando only hastened the process of disruption in
Cordova. War was the chief business of the Spaniard at this age, and
handicraft was despised as something unworthy of a true Castilian
_caballero_. All the possibilities of reconstruction and restoration
were neglected by the Christians, who were more concerned with expelling
the Moors and shattering every relic of their rule, than in making
reasonable use of the resources and the crafts which they had developed
and brought to perfection. The remnant of the Moors still remained the
designers, craft-workers, and agriculturists, but their arts and their
husbandry steadily declined. No great and beautiful buildings were
reared on the ashes of Cordova, excepting the Christian additions to
the Mezquita, which was consecrated in the name of the Vírgen de la
Asuncíon.
The militarist Spaniards had no time to devote to trade, the cultivation
of the vegas, and the extension of learning. Buildings which had been
the joy of the Moors were permitted to crumble, or were pulled down to
supply material for the erection of squalid dwellings. Grim ruin
descended upon fair Cordova; melancholy decay succeeded its long era of
growth and prosperity. The admirable irrigation system, which had made
the meadows lush and the land fecund, was left unused, and the vineyards
and plots were neglected. Briars and weeds gained supremacy in the
fertile valley; the earth became impoverished and barren. The beautiful
horses of Arab breed, which were reared by the Moors, deteriorated in
stamina and grace, and degenerate cattle roamed the plains by the
Guadalquivir. Forests planted by the makers of Cordova were felled; the
country was rendered bare of foliage and shade.
In the seventeenth century the population of the city had been reduced
to about seventy thousand inhabitants, and the number of its residents
steadily dwindled after the expulsion of the Moors. There are now about
fifty thousand people in Cordova. In the tenth century three hundred
thousand persons dwelt in the city and its surroundings.
The Mezquita, the bridge, the mosque of Almanzor and the ruins of the
Alcazar stand as eloquent examples of the Cordova of Almanzor: not a
stone survives of the luxurious palaces, whose names suggest Oriental
splendour and the joy of life. We can but imagine the charm of the
Palace of Contentment and the Palace of the Diadem, and the loveliness
of the scented gardens that delighted sultans and sultanas, and the
sages and the poets of the far-famed ‘Bride of Andalusia.’
Hushed is the voice of the muezzin: no longer can men sit entranced at
the strains of the musicians, or listen to the recitals of the doctors
and the poets. But the same notes of the nightingale drift on the
perfumed breeze of evening, and the hawks still sail and soar above the
minaret. And in the Court of Oranges, girls of erect and Moorish mien
bear Oriental pitchers on their heads, as they resort to the fountain
for water; while through the open door of the Mezquita one may scent the
incense, and see the tangled vista of Arabic arches; or, standing upon
the many-arched bridge, watch the selfsame umber river which legions
upon legions of dusky warriors crossed to victory.
Thus Cordova, though in a sense dead, still lives and speaks. Its stones
are vividly reminiscent of the days of the Moors; the atmosphere is
mysteriously impressive, and the features of its natives have still the
Arab cast, while in their customs and their speech traces of the Moor
survive.
With the triumph of San Fernando came the steady disintegration of the
high civilisation of Cordova, and its history from the day of victory
onwards is one both mournful and instructive. The expulsion of the Arab
artisans was an error of policy which the more intelligent Cordovese
quickly recognised, for soon after the restoration of the city into the
hands of the Spanish sovereigns, many of the inhabitants proposed to
request the king to permit six per cent. of the Moors to remain in
Cordova. This petition was, however, lightly regarded by the Governor,
and it does not appear to have come under the attention of Ferdinand.
Later on, the citizens, finding that trade was rapidly declining, begged
that a few aged Moors might be allowed to stay in the city, and to ply
their trade of harness-makers.
The neglect of the staple industries of Cordova after the Christian
reconstruction is an object-lesson upon the paralysis of the arts and
crafts which characterises the Castilian influence during this period.
It seems almost incredible that the Spaniards had forgotten the art of
harness-making, or that the natives of Cordova refused to soil their
fingers in any sort of labour. But what other inferences can be drawn
from the proposed petitions that a small number of the Moriscos might be
retained as mechanics? It appears evident that the only occupations
deemed fitting for an Andalusian of that day were ecclesiastic or
military. There was only the choice between the church and the army.
An observant traveller, the Chevalier de Bourgoanne, who made a tour of
Spain in 1797, writes of the melancholy decay of Cordova. ‘In so fine a
climate,’ says the Chevalier, ‘in midst of so many sources of
prosperity, it (Cordova) contains no more than 35,000 inhabitants.
Formerly celebrated for its manufactories of silks, fine cloths, etc.,
it has now no other industrious occupations but a few manufactories of
ribbons, galoons, hats and baize.’
IV
THE BUILDING OF THE MOSQUE
When Abd-er-Rahman I. seized upon the citadel of the Gothic Christian
kings, he found the Cordovese split up into various sects, such as the
Gnostics, Priscillianists, Donatists, and Luciferians. These cults were,
however, united in their detestation of the new creed of the East, which
the victors sought to impose upon them. It is quite clear from the
records of the more impartial Spanish historians, that the Sultan was a
man of tolerant mould and a respecter of justice. His ambition was to
erect a temple, which would rival in magnificence those of Baghdad,
Jerusalem, and Damascus, and approach in sanctity to the fane of Mecca
itself.
The Christian church in Cordova stood upon the site of the former Roman
religious edifice dedicated to Janus, and upon this situation
Abd-er-Rahman desired to rear his great mosque. Autocrat though he was,
the monarch strove to maintain the conditions upon which the
inhabitants had surrendered. He might have broken faith, and annexed
the Christian building and the ground upon which it stood. But he
honourably offered to buy the church and the plot from the conquered
people. The negotiations of purchase were placed in the hands of the
Sultan’s favourite secretary, Umeya Ibn Yezid.
At first the Christians refused to sell their cherished basilica, which
had been divided into a temple of the faith of Christ and a fane for the
worship of Allah. Here, in separate portions of the building, the
conquerors and the conquered murmured their prayers and repeated their
praises to their deities. How the Cordovese were induced to relinquish
the church cannot be explained by any historical evidence that we are
able to obtain from the writings of Arabians and Spaniards. Some authors
have suggested that the Christians of Cordova were disheartened by
adversity and the assaults of Islam upon their creed, and that they
yielded to the suasion and counsels of Umeya Ibn Yezid, and sold their
tabernacle to the invaders. At any rate it is manifest that
Abd-er-Rahman won in the end, and that he was able to forward his
project without showing violence to the natives of Cordova.
No doubt the Christians preferred to worship in their own buildings
rather than to share the basilica with the infidels, and this preference
may have influenced their spiritual leaders in meeting the request of
the sultan and his agent. Under the terms of transference, the Cordovese
were permitted to reconstruct the edifice formerly dedicated to St.
Faustus, St. Januarius, and St. Marcellus, three martyrs whom they
deeply revered. Immediately upon the conveyance of the church and its
site to Abd-er-Rahman, the work of erecting the gorgeous mosque was
begun with much enthusiasm and at the expenditure of huge sums of money.
The Khalif was rich. Besides the treasure wrested from the Goths during
the wars, he extracted a tithe upon the produce of the land and on
manufactures. A tax was also laid upon every Christian and Jew in
Andalusia. Beyond this, the Moorish kings were greatly enriched by the
acquisition of the valuable mines of Spain, the quarries of marble, and
other sources of wealth. From these revenues Abd-er-Rahman and his
successors, Hisham, Abd-er-Rahman II., the greatest of the dynasty and
the third of the line--and lastly, the extravagant Al-manzor--lavished
heavy sums upon the designing, construction, and costly adornment of the
Mosque.
The power of the first Khalif of Cordova was supreme and undisputed. He
was the sole spiritual and temporal head of the people, ‘the Commander
of the Faithful.’ Subservient to him were the _walis_ who ruled in the
provinces. Abd-er-Rahman’s despotism made upon the whole for charity,
tolerance, and justice. The accounts of his persecutions have been
coloured by pious historians, and bear the stamp of a natural hostility
to the conqueror and his religion. One or two of the more accurate
Spanish writers assert that, at the most, only forty persons were
martyred in Cordova under the Omeyyad sway; and, according to Morales,
these victims sought persecution.
To court sufferings at the hands of the Moors was deemed a noble virtue
in the breast of the devout Christians. We may recall the story of Santa
Teresa of Avila, who, as a child, wandered from the city with her little
brother to seek persecution in the country of the infidels. Whatever may
be charged against the Khalifs of the family of Omeyya, it cannot be
asserted that their policy after the conquest was one of tyrannous
subjugation. They undoubtedly levied taxes and imposts upon the Goths,
and confiscated their lands, after a campaign of destruction and
aggression; but as victors they displayed magnanimity, and sought to
heal the wounded spirit of the vanquished.
The attitude of Abd-er-Rahman I. towards the Christian population of
Cordova was, therefore, clement and conciliatory. Under his sovereignty
there dawned an age of prosperity and advancement. The work of building
the resplendent Mezquita employed thousands of artisans and labourers.
This vast undertaking led to the development of all the resources of the
district. Durable stone and beautifully veined marbles were quarried
from the Sierra Morena and the surrounding regions of the city. Metals
of various kinds were dug from the soil, and factories sprang up in
Cordova amid the stir and bustle of an awakened industrial energy. A
famous Syrian architect made the plans for the Mosque. Leaving his
suburban dwelling, the Khalif came to reside in the city, so that he
might personally superintend the operations, and offer proposals for the
improvement of the designs. We are told that Abd-er-Rahman moved about
among the workers, directing them during several hours of every day. The
monarch was growing old. It was the longing of his heart to witness the
final achievement of his great scheme before death overtook him.
In planning the Mosque the architects incorporated a number of Roman
columns with choice capitals. Some of the columns were already in the
Gothic structure; others were sent from various quarters of Spain as
presents from the governors of provinces. Ivory, jasper, porphyry, gold,
silver, copper, and brass were used in the decorations. Marvellous
mosaics and azulejos were designed. Panels of scented woods were
fastened with nails of pure gold, and the red marble columns were said
to be the work of God. The primitive part of the building, reared under
the direction of Abd-er-Rahman I., was that bordering the Court of
Oranges. Later, the immense temple embodied all the styles of Morisco
architecture in one noble composition.
The first Khalif of Cordova did not survive to witness the completion of
the Mosque. He died in the Alcazar long before the work was finished,
and committed the task to his son Hisham. The prince carried on the work
with zealous devotion. Upon his father’s death in 788, the building
covered only a small part of the ground now occupied by the Mosque and
its later additions. Hisham I. built the tower for the muezzin, and the
fretted gallery for the women worshippers, and added much to the Zeca,
or House of Purification, erected by Abd-er-Rahman.
The Court of Ablutions was laid out by the first Khalif, and occupied
the ground of the present Court of Oranges. In constructing the Mosque,
the founders adapted the basilica form of building to the new worship.
During the Omeyyad dynasty the original building was constantly enlarged
and improved, and fresh decorations were added up to the time of
Almanzor. Each Khalif vied with his predecessor in beautifying the
temple. The pristine building was finished ten years after the planning
under Abd-er-Rahman I., that is, during the reign of Hisham I., who
conducted the labour with the utmost expedition. Marbles of spotless
white were chosen for the innumerable columns. Arrazi, an Arab writer,
speaks of the valuable wine-coloured marble, obtained from the mountains
of the district, which was much used in embellishing the naves of the
Mosques of Cordova and Ez-Zahra.
The solemnity and beauty of the ceremonies in the House of Purification
can only be imagined. Every day saw the celebration of the _tazamein_,
or purification of the devout, before entering the holy structure, and
six times daily the _alicama_, or call to prayer, was shouted by the
muezzin from the summit of the minaret. No shoes were permitted to
defile the sanctuary; the worshippers entered barefooted. From its
sacred shadow all Jews were excluded, and restrictions guarded the
approach of women, except the privileged royal brides.
The interior glittered with gold, silver, precious stones, mosaics, and
hundreds of lamps of brass. By the side of the priest stood a mighty wax
candle, and the scent of the burning aloes, ambergris, and perfumed oils
in the lanterns drifted through the tangled arches of the long naves.
Some of the brass lamps were made out of bells taken from Christian
churches. The pulpit was seven years in the making. It was of ivory,
ebony, sandal, aloe, and citron wood, with nails of gold and silver.
Eight artists lavished their skill upon the designing and adorning of
this pulpit. In the wondrous mih-rab the walls were of pure gold. A copy
of the Koran in a gold case, set with pearls and rubies, was kept in the
pulpit. It was taken away by Abu-Mohammed on one of his campaigns, and
was finally lost to the faithful.
The building of the Mosque began in 785 or 786, and throughout the rule
of the Omeyyad monarchs there were constant additions to the Zeca of
Abd-er-Rahman I. As Cordova grew, and strangers flocked to the city from
North Africa and Arabia, it was found necessary to provide a larger
edifice for the worshippers. In the time of Abd-er-Rahman II., the House
of Purification was enlarged by the addition of several aisles, two
porches were added, and a new mih-rab was constructed. The columns were
gilded at this period at the direction of the Sultan. During the reign
of Mohammed I. the work was continued; the walls and portals were
improved, and the maksurrah, or railed sanctum for the Khalif, was also
built. The ruler attended the services in great pomp on Fridays,
approaching the Mosque by an underground passage from his palace.
Hisham’s temple covered an area of 460 feet from north to south, and 280
feet from east to west. It was flanked by stout, fortified walls, with
watch-towers and a tall minaret. The number of the outer gates was nine,
and of the inner doors eleven. These doors led to the same number of
naves within the Mosque. The court had spacious gates on the north,
west, and east sides, and fountains for the purification of the pious.
The naves were eleven in number, stretching from north to south, and
these were crossed by twenty-one smaller naves running from east to
west.
In the Mezquita of Cordova we see the first examples of the true Arabian
architecture, whose purity was lost at a later date in the style of the
Almohades. The Estilo Sarraceno, or earlier style of design and
decoration, has an example in the beautiful Puerta del Perdon of the
Mosque of Cordova. We learn that by the year 1282 the fashion in form
and adornment had so greatly changed, that the Moors who then remained
in the city appeared unable to follow the tradition of their craft in
decorating the interior of the cathedral. Even in the reign of Almanzor,
the specific style of the Arabs was giving place to less beautiful
conceptions of line and decoration. Nevertheless, it is generally
admitted that the Mosque is the finest example in Europe of the Moorish
religious edifice. It maintains uniformity in the plan of its
construction, while the dimensions are enormous, and the adornment
elegant and characteristic of the art of Islam in the flower of its
might and magnificence.
Abd-er-Rahman III. assumed his title of Khalif with the style of
_En-Nāsir li-dīni-llāh_, ‘the Defender of the Faith of God,’ added to
the Mosque a new tower, and renovated the ancient façade. The minaret
contained two staircases, which were built for the separate ascent and
descent of the tower. On the summit there were three apples, two of gold
and one of silver, with lilies of six petals. The minaret is four-faced,
with fourteen windows, having arches upon jasper columns, and the
structure is adorned with splendid tracery.
Long before the final stages in the history of the Omeyyad builders, the
Moslem temple of Cordova was deemed one of the greatest marvels of
architecture in the world. The chroniclers and poets of the period unite
in applauding the zeal of the sovereigns who expended such vast treasure
in furthering the glory of Allah by the erection of this sumptuous and
dazzling tabernacle. Abúlmothanne, the poet, wrote of the Mosque: ‘To it
the pilgrims resort from all parts of the world, as if it were the
sacred temple of Mekka. Indeed, its mih-rab, when examined, will be
found to contain _rokn_ (angles) as well as _makárn_ (standing-place).’
And another singer proclaimed that the Mosque, which was consecrated to
God, was ‘without equal in the world.’
Hakem II., Al-Mostansir-billáh, greatly increased the size of the
building. This just and cultured ruler caused the construction of the
third mih-rab, which was over four years in the making and rivalled all
the previous work in this gorgeous part of the Mosque. The new sanctuary
was crowned with a splendid cupola, and the marvellous mosaics of
foseyfasa were introduced. Hakem also designed a fresh maksurrah for the
Sultan, a space enclosed by an ornate wooden fence or screen, which was
beautifully domed in the Byzantine style.
Hakem II. was not only occupied in extending and adorning the interior
of the Mezquita. During his busy reign in Cordova, the immense library
was enlarged by contributions of manuscripts upon all subjects, gathered
from every part of the civilised nations. But the library, with its
unique treasures of Oriental lore, and its works of science in many
languages, was lost to the world upon the wrecking and downfall of the
city. The fruit of Hakem’s devotion remains, however, in the most
gorgeous and lovely embellishments of the Mosque. This Khalif also built
an alms-house adjoining the temple, and quarters for the residence of
the preachers and officials of the house of worship.