A SABBATH EVE IN CORDOVA.
THE SYNAGOGUE OF CORDOVA.--THE DAUGHTERS OF ISRAEL PREPARING
FOR THE SABBATH.--THE THRONE OF THE "NASI."--RABBI MOSES BEN
CHANOCH.--THE ELOQUENCE OF SILENCE.--A TEARFUL SCENE.--THREE RABBIS
TAKEN CAPTIVE BY PIRATES.--EVIL DESIGNS AGAINST CHANOCH'S YOUNG AND
BEAUTIFUL WIFE.--SOLD AS SLAVE TO CORDOVA.--HIS MIRACULOUS RISE.
A paved walk, guarded on each side by majestic cypress trees, winding
its course along terraced gardens and near refreshing fountains, leads
up to the lofty eminence on which stands the only synagogue of Cordova.
Almost breathless we reach the height. We express our surprise that
the Synagogue, visited twice daily, and thrice on the Sabbath day,
should have been located so inconveniently, to which our distinguished
friend Dunash ben Labrat replies: "Such is the custom in Israel, both
Solomon[7] and Ezra[8] have established the custom of building the
Synagogue on a lofty eminence, and the Talmud teaches: "The city whose
houses are higher than its houses of worship will be destroyed."[9]
[7] Proverbs, i:21.
[8] Ezra, ix:9.
[9] Talmud Babli Sabbath, 11 a.
Before entering, we pause awhile to cast our eyes about us. Were we
standing on Mount Moriah, of deathless memory, with the gorgeous temple
of Solomon before us, and with the sacred scenery of Jerusalem and her
environments about us, even such scenes could not have awed us more
than those which fascinate our heart and mind on the temple-mount of
Cordova, the brightest gem in the proud diadem of fair Andalusia.
At the foot of the mount glides the silvery Guadalquivir. The blushing
sun is sinking behind the azure hills, and houses and synagogues and
foliage and fountain and river, all are crimson tinted, while the
fleecy cloudlets, that float in his radiant tracks, are resplendent
with colors of purple and violet and gold and red. The evening star
sparkles in the rosy sky so benignly, as if it were the eye of God,
pleased at seeing His "chosen people" hasten to prostrate themselves
before His footstool. The golden glimmering vapors, that rise from
beneath the illumined horizon into infinite space, seem to vault over
the Synagogue, as if bestowing celestial Sabbath blessing over its
worshipers. All nature around us inspires to worship. The nightingales
have begun their evening hymns, and the air is loud with the soft
melting notes of the skylarks, who sing their sweet "Good Night" to the
sunken sun. Our soul, too, is filled with a yearning to commune with
God, and so we turn toward the synagogue.
Like the mezquita (mosque) its exterior facade is plain and
unnoteworthy. We enter the high and spacious vestibule, and our eye
is dazzled with all the magnificence, with the harmonious blending of
colors, with the costly, but chaste ornamentations. The cupola above
admits a free circulation of air, bringing the sweet fragrance of the
surrounding gardens. On the one side is heard the refreshing sound of
the flowing waters within the reservoirs for ablution, and on the other
side the soft splash from the fountain jets in the garden.
Within the synagogue proper, clusters of delicate columns of various
marbles and of costly woods, support double galleries, one above the
other, with lattice work in front, that the black-eyed and raven-locked
and comely-featured Hebrew women may not draw the mind of the
worshipers beneath from their devotions. The galleries are empty now.
The Hebrew women do not attend the service of the Sabbath Eve. They are
at home awaiting the return of their husbands, fathers, brothers. All
day long have they been busy in the preparation for the Sabbath. The
house has been put in order. The choicest that means would allow and
the market afford has been secured and prepared for the festive Sabbath
meal. Upon the table, decked with snow white linens, and with the
tempting dishes, burn the lights in the heavy silver candlesticks, and
the traditional seven-armed Sabbath lamp, suspended from the center of
the ceiling, having been lighted with Sabbath benedictions by the queen
of the house, sheds a hallowed light over mother, wife and daughter,
who are attired in their neatest, and whose countenances are flushed
from the day's busy task, and whose eyes beam, and whose hearts beat
with joyous expectations.
But we have strayed from the description of the galleries of the
synagogue to the women in their homes. What wonder the Spanish Jews had
need of their latticed railings!
The interspaces between the graceful horseshoe arches and the ovals in
the ceiling are delicately pencilled with brilliant colors, and the
walls are filled with arabesques interwreathing appropriate Hebrew
texts.
The wall to the east, the direction towards Jerusalem, holds the
_Haichal_, the shrine, in which is kept the _Thora_, the parchment
scrolls of the Pentateuch.
The shrine is canopied by a wondrously designed shell-shaped covering,
inlaid with mother-of-pearl, ivory and silver. A curtain of silk and
woven gold, and decorated with gems of chrysolite and emeralds and
sapphires, serves as a screen to this "Holy of Holies." Over this
shell-shaped canopy is an illuminated window of artistic workmanship,
inscribed in brilliant colors with the words, "_Yehi Or_," "Let there
be light." The moon, queen of the night, rides in the cloudless sky,
and she sends her peerless light through this double-triangled window,
and the effect is most sublime.
Suspended from the ceiling, and directly in front of the curtain is the
_Ne'er Tamid_ the "Perpetual Lamp," famous for its wondrous beauty and
for its priceless value, the gift of the mother of _Chasdai ben Isaac_,
and its mellow light sends a hallowing influence over the congregants.
Beneath it are the pyramidal steps, from which the descendants of
the High-Priest Aaron bestow, on the great holidays, the priestly
blessings upon the congregation. To the right and left of these stand
the _M'noroth_, the high seven-armed candelabra, a faithful copy of the
Biblical design[10].
[10] Exodus xxv: 31-36.
In front of the steps stands the throne-like chair, in which is seated
_Chasdai ben Isaac_, the _Nasi_, secular head of all European Jews, the
_Resh Kallah_, President of the Academy for the Talmudical Sciences
at Pumbadita in Babylonia, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and of
Commerce, and of Finance to the Caliph Abderrahman III.
To the right of the shrine, on a raised platform, are seated Rabbi
_Moses ben Chanoch_, the _Dayan_, the chief judge and chief rabbi of
all European Jews; at his right the _Sh'liach Hazibur_, the Reader, is
seated; at his left his Chief Assistant _Dayan_; at his feet sit the
most advanced disciples of his far-famed academy.
To the left of the "Shrine" is seated the _Rosh Hak'neseth_, the
President of the congregation; behind his chair stands the _Chazan
Hak'neseth_, the beadle, to his right and left the officers of the
congregation are seated, at their feet sit the elders.
These three groups sit with their faces towards the congregation, while
the congregation faces the shrine. In the center of this capacious
interior is the "Almemor," or the "Bimah," a spacious elevated
platform of magnificent design. A balustrade encircles this platform,
whose balusters, as well as those of the graceful stairways that lead
up to the platform on both sides, are of delicate alabaster columns.
On this "Bimah" is the Reader's desk, and the Rabbi's pulpit, placed
there, that the vast audience may have the opportunity of advantageous
hearing.
From the ceiling great chandeliers are suspended, which shed a
shower of light upon the host of worshipers, and streaming through
the inexpressibly beautiful stained-glass windows, the synagogue,
that towers high above the city of Cordova, sheds its benign rays of
holiness and peace and good will over the city and all its people.
The floor of the vestibule is composed of marble, mosaics and glazed
tiles, so joined as to form various complicated patterns of surpassing
beauty. The floor of the synagogue is covered with embroidered Persian
carpets.
Though the seats are filled, and the officers are in their respective
places--
"No sound is uttered--but a deep
And solemn harmony pervades."
Verily, the Hebrews understand the essence of worship well. There is in
every prayerful soul that indefinable yearning and longing after the
infinite, after the highest and the sublimest that can give eloquent
utterance in deep silence only. The soul may stammer forth its wants
and its thanks, but its deepest, innermost feelings never. Therefore
have the Jews established the custom that the service of expression
shall ever be preceded by the still more sacred service of silent
meditation.
The strange surroundings, and the wondrous sights, have so completely
taken hold of our mind that it cannot find that calm repose so
necessary for silent devotion, and so, while the others are lost in
meditations our mind, continues its observations.
Two men rivet our attention. The one is _Chasdai ben Isaac_, one of
those awe-and-respect-commanding and love-and-confidence-inspiring
appearances we meet with but rarely in life. His features present an
embodiment of three distinct races. His high and square forehead, his
deep-set eye, his aquiline nose, his prominent chin, indicative of
profound wisdom, of capacities to command and of great will power;
these bespeak the Palestinian Hebrew. The grace and comeliness of the
figure bespeak the Moor. His tall, majestic form, full of life and
vigor, bespeak the European Visigoth.
No less attractive is the person of Rabbi _Moses Ben Chanoch_. There
is something strange and fascinating in his intelligent countenance.
Some strange, sweet melancholy seems to hover about his eyes. The lines
of his face fall into an expression of mild suffering, of endurance
sweetened and sustained by holiness and resignation to God's will. He
seems to be more deeply lost in meditation than any of the rest. Now
and then his forehead wrinkles, and his lips quiver, as if in pain,
and his teeth close, as if suppressing a cry of anguish.
Is the great and learned and pious Rabbi, revered wherever a Jewish
heart beats, whether in Asia or in Africa or in Europe, through
whom the light of Eastern learning, which, by the dispersion of the
illustrious teachers, and by the final closing of the great schools,
seemed to have been extinguished forever, suddenly rose again in the
West in renewed and undiminished splendor, is he really lost in pious
meditations? We have our suspicions, and may God pardon us if we
suspect him wrongfully.
"There are moments when silence, prolonged and unbroken,
More expressive may be than all words ever spoken,
It is when the heart has an instinct of what
In the heart of another is passing."[11]
[11] Lucile, Pt. II., Canto I., St. 20.
It may be, he recalls the day of his departure from Sura, in company
with his young and beautiful wife, and his little son, and three
other young and eminent rabbis, Rabbi _Sahamaria ben Elchanan_, Rabbi
_Chuschiel_ and Rabbi _Nathan ben Isaac Kohen_, for the purpose of
raising funds for the academy at Sura, which was then in its last
throes. He is recalling, perhaps, the harrowing scene when they were
taken captive along the Italian coast by the Spanish-Moorish pirate,
Admiral _Ibn Rumachis_. His quivering lips and wrinkled brow and his
suppressed cry of anguish betray his thinking of the evil designs
which the pirate admiral carried in his foul heart against his young
and beautiful wife; how she, the pious and innocent, preferring death
to infamy, had asked him, concealing the motive: whether there is
resurrection for those who perish in the sea; and how he, unsuspecting,
answered in the affirmative, basing it upon Psalm lxviii: 23. "The
Lord said, I will bring again from Bashon, _I will bring again from
the depths of the sea_," how she, no sooner had the answer been given,
plunged into the sea, and the raging billows swallowed his young and
beautiful wife, the mother of his young and only child.
Hence, his wrinkled brow and quivering lip and melancholy expression
on the blessed Sabbath eve. No illuminated home awaits him. No wife
that has cheerfully labored all day long to prepare for the festive
reception of the Sabbath. No wife to greet him with her cheery smile,
and with her wise and pure and holy converse to dispel the cares
and worries of the week. No mother to press his child against her
love-beating bosom and call him, too, "My own sweet child."
His thoughts continue in their wandering. He recalls the day when
he was sold as slave to Cordova; how he was ransomed by the Jewish
community, though his quality and learning were unknown; how he
entered, one day, the school for Talmud studies, over which Rabbi
_Nathan_, "Dayan" of the Jews of Cordova, presided; how he, ashamed of
his costume of sackcloth, seated himself in a corner, at a respectful
distance from the disciples; how he, aroused, at last, by the false
decisions of the ignorant Rabbi Nathan, forgetting in his excitement
his humble state, and his costume of sackcloth, ventured to correct,
with becoming modesty, the decisions rendered; how all eyes had turned
towards the poor slave; how, to draw forth his learning, Rabbi Nathan
entered into a debate with him, in which he evinced such profound
scholarship that Rabbi Nathan exclaimed with enthusiastic admiration.
"I am no longer Head of this School--Yon slave in sackcloth is my
master, and I his disciple."
His mind continues in its reveries. He recalls how he had been
installed by acclamation as Head of the Jewish community; how he had
gained the favor of Chasdai and of the Caliph; how his great school was
founded and is flourishing now, and is the most famous in the Jewish
literary world.
His face becomes more and more placid. He recognizes the finger of
God in his fate. His capture, and that of his three colleagues, he
sees now, has been providential. They had been destined to carry
the knowledge from the schools of Babylon to Africa and Europe. His
colleagues had fared equally as well. Rabbi _Sahamaria ben Elchanan_
had been sold as a slave to Alexandria, where he, too, was ransomed
by the Jewish community, and later he also established a flourishing
school at "_Misr_" (Kahira). Rabbi _Chuschiel_ met with the same fate.
He was sold to _Kairuan_, on the coast of Africa, and there he, too,
opened a school. Rabbi _Nathan ben Isaac Kohen_ was sold to _Narbonne_,
France, and, as if fate had so ordered it, he too opened a flourishing
school at that place. He would have continued his reveries had not the
"_Sh'liach Hazibur_" aroused him, who leaves his side, and mounting
the "_Almemor_," takes his place at his desk. The services are to
begin, and so we, too, must cease our observations, and unite with our
co-religionists in their joyous and reverential greeting of the weekly
Sabbath, the blessed Day of Rest.
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