three first transverse naves of the noble apartment, beginning at the
re-inforcing wall, which marks the prolongation of Hakam, giving to the
single nave that they opened a length of one hundred feet from the inner
door of the Alms Chamber to the central apartment of the three enclosed
in the old “maksurrah.” They made the Alms Chamber into a vestibule,
leaving the re-inforcing wall as it was without touching the bold
ultra-semi-circular arches resting on pairs of columns; they pulled down
the cadi’s apartment in order to make way for the transept, and also the
three transverse naves it had occupied. The three columns in front of
the Arab pillars, which stood in the length from east to west, were
pulled down too, and three handsomer pillars were erected in their
place, fortified at right angles by walls in the manner of buttresses,
which intercepted the entire width of one transverse nave. Great pointed
arches sprang from pillar to pillar, corresponding with the horse-shoe
arches in front; a light and graceful dome stretched from one side to
the other, divided into four compartments by three great arches, of
which that nearest to the sanctuary rested on high columns, and the
other two on well-carved brackets, with open-work borders suspended at a
regular height above the spaces. Finally, they took the central
apartment of the ancient “maksurrah,” where we presume the khalif sat,
and erected there the Grand Chapel.
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE--FRONT OF THE TRASTAMARA CHAPEL.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
GENERAL VIEW OF THE CHAPEL OF VILLAVICIOSA.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
NORTH ANGLE OF THE CHAPEL OF VILLAVICIOSA.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
VILLAVICIOSA CHAPEL.]
This chapel was built at the king’s expense, for which the grateful
chapter resolved to celebrate the anniversary of his death, a practice
which has been faithfully observed to the present day.
The arrangement of this space was perfectly adapted for the purpose of a
Grand Chapel; the other room adjoining to the east being converted into
a sacristy. It was doubtless in the same condition as when finished by
the architects of Hakam II. At the north side it had a horse-shoe arch
corresponding with the re-inforcing wall of the same khalif, and on the
east side it had a great arched window and two little doors at the
sides, which communicated with the tribune of the “Alicama,” at the
south side, giving a splendid example of the rich Byzantine style of
the time of Hakam, and forming a combination of segment arches
crossing in space and forming crosses of undulating ribbons in the
intercolumniations, the whole being similar to the decoration displayed
in front of the vestibule of the “mihrab.” We do not know how the west
side was decorated, where this space was united with the apartment of
the cadi, which had been pulled down. In order to convert this into a
Grand Chapel it was not necessary to disfigure it completely; it was
sufficient to fill up the great northern arch, which in the time of the
khalifs was closed by the first “maksurrah,” and also to block up the
great window at the east, communicating with the tribune of the
“Alicama;” to leave the two little side doors open for communication
with the sacristy, and to enlarge the sanctuary as much as necessary, to
shut it in at the south side with glass windows, and to place the
customary chancel at its opening. Perhaps no more than this was done;
but who is capable to-day of saying how much respect the king’s
architects had for Arab-Byzantine work?
In the year 1260 Don Gonzalo Yanez, first gentleman of Aguilar, founded
the Chapel of St. John the Baptist. Five years later the Bishop Fernando
de Mesa built the Chapel of Santiago, in the south-east corner, near the
Chapel of St. Clement. This chapel was wide and commodious, and the Arab
arches in its area were not disturbed. In 1263 King Alfonso X. had the
ancient aqueducts repaired, and in 1275 Prince Ferdinand gave an order
for four Moors, who should be free from taxation, to be kept at work in
the building operations of the cathedral. Two of these were to be
carpenters, and two masons. This privilege was confirmed several times
in succeeding years, and a charter exists, dated Cordova, 25th October,
1282, which orders that all the Moors living in the city, whether they
were artificers or not, shall work for two days of the year in the
cathedral. It was thought that these workmen would understand the
repairing of Moorish work better than Christians, but the task was also
meant as a humiliation. As time went on, these workmen, more or less,
lost the traditions of their faith and their architecture, so that they
were really of little service in preserving the original character of
the edifice.
In 1278 the first statue of St. Raphael the Archangel was placed on the
top of the minaret. At that time Cordova was visited by the plague,
which worked terrible destruction amongst the inhabitants. It is related
that St. Raphael appeared to Friar Simon de Sousa, of the Convent of Our
Lady of Mercy, and told him that God was moved with compassion, and that
He would take away the visitation if a statue of St. Raphael himself
were placed on the tower of the Cathedral, and if his Feast were
celebrated properly every year. This was done, and the plague
immediately ceased. A new chapel to St. Bartholomew was erected in 1280
by Martin Muñoz, nephew of the famous commander Domingo Muñoz; and after
this, the Chapel of St. Paul,
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE--CHAPEL OF VILLAVICIOSA.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
ARAB TRIBUNE, TO-DAY THE CHAPEL OF VILLAVICIOSA, LEFT SIDE.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
ANCIENT INSCRIPTION OF THE TIME OF KHALIFATE, FOUND IN AN EXCAVATION.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE.
DETAIL OF THE TRASTAMARA CHAPEL.]
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE.
CHAPEL OF TRASTAMARA, SOUTH SIDE.]
which belonged to the family of the Godois. Then followed the foundation
of the Chapel of St. Nicholas, by a pious Archdeacon; and of the Chapels
of St. Benedict, St. Vincent, and St. Giles, and that of Our Lady of the
Snow.
It was not thought wise to make any great efforts to introduce the art
of the West into a city which could not as yet be considered sure of not
falling again into the hands of the infidels. In the year 1369 Don
Enrique, the Fraticide, came to the throne of Castile. He desired to
carry out the wishes of his father, and to give him a place of sepulchre
worthy of his high renown. For this purpose he ordered a Royal Chapel to
be erected in the cathedral at the back of the Grand Chapel in the Arab
Tribune, which served as a sacristy. He decided to bury here his
grandfather, Don Fernando X., whose body had been laid under the grand
chapel by order of his Queen, Constanza. This fabric must have taken
some considerable time, for the stucco, wood and tile work are really
wonderful. Mohammedan art had undergone a complete transformation; the
grandiose Arab-Byzantine style had been succeeded by the effeminate
Moorish school, first practised by the Almoravides, and after by the
Almohades; and the Moorish architects and decorators of Cordova could
not remain uninfluenced by the taste which had become general through
the artificers who had renovated the Alcazar at Seville, and who had
embellished the Alhambra at Granada. Nothing was more unlike the
architecture of the days of Hakam II. than that employed now in the
construction of the Royal Chapel. Two parts are noticed--an upper and a
lower. The Moorish architect who directed the work had windows with
ornamented arches in the new style opened in the east and west sides,
which were longer than the others. He ordered, too, that Saracen art,
emancipated from the Byzantine traditions, should be stamped on the
ornamentation of the four walls, and on the cupola that crowned them.
These arches were given festoons with lobules, which boldly, though
corruptly, hid the true object of the curves. They were also set in
square compartments, forming many edges beautifully worked with hammer
and chisel. The framings were crowned with beautiful little cornices of
small interlaced and open-worked arches, and above them ran round all
the four sides a wide facia of little pine-shaped domes, which imitated
stalactites of crystallised gold, having a most surprising effect, and
of a sort until then unknown in the most famous mosque of the West.
In the east and west walls, which were the longest of the rectangle, the
arches with lobules, which could not be opened, were in relief; and
resting on the light cornice were two tablets with lions. There were
four of these lions--two on the western and two on the eastern facia,
equi-distant from one another; and from each lion to that which faced
him sprang a great arch, whose facing projected some feet over the lower
zone, and from each lion to that by his side sprang another great arch,
which did not project beyond the facing of the lower wall. These four
upper arches, each one with twenty-one trefoil lobules, formed a perfect
square, their four supports being at an equal distance, thanks to the
ingenious method of cutting the longer sides, putting the lions
perpendicularly over the great lower arches. Once this difficulty was
overcome it was doubtless an easy matter to raise the cupola, which was
to crown the fabric. The ancient dome must have been similar to that
which has been discovered in the Chapel of Villaviciosa, but it must
have seemed poor in the eyes of King Henry II., so accustomed to seeing
the Moorish cupolas with stalactites; so they placed a cornice on the
arches described above, and on this
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE.
INTERIOR OF THE MIHRAB.]
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE.
ARAB ARCADE ABOVE THE FIRST MIHRAB.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE.
DETAILS, ARCHES OF THE MIHRAB.]
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE.
DETAIL OF THE MIHRAB.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE.
EXTERIOR OF THE CHAPEL OF THE MIHRAB.]
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE.
GATE OF THE SULTAN.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
PRINCIPAL ENTRANCE TO THE MOSQUE.]
[Illustration: THE MOSQUE.
DETAIL NEAR THE MIHRAB.]
rested the segments of the circle, which form the elegant and strange
African cupola.
The following distribution is seen in the lower portion: Towards the
middle of the east side there is an arch formed of little domes with
stalactites, slightly pointed, sufficiently deep, enclosed in a sort of
framing of gilded stucco, forming beautifully interlaced branches. The
square compartment finishes at the lower end in a wide facia, which runs
on both sides on a high socle of minute and beautiful tiling, and
between the complicated ornaments in relief circles are formed,
enclosing the arms of Castile and Leon. To the right side, on this same
facia, is an ornamental arch of eleven lobules enclosed in another
framing, entirely covered with tracery in relief, sustained by two very
slight columns, built into the wall. Joined to this is another arch,
much lower, with seven lobules, also ornamented, and sustained by
columns of the same style as those just described, bearing a shield with
the same arms. The left side has the same ornamentation, with the
difference that both the arches have seven lobules, because the wall has
more frontage on this side: and another difference was that in the
north-east corner it had an ornamentation of minute open-work instead of
a shield. The wall opposite had the same distribution with a deep
central arch and small arches at the side, with little columns in the
Gothic style, which show already that the style is no longer purely
Moorish, but a sort of base mixture of the decorative art of the East
and the West. Perhaps we may consider this the true concession of the
Moorish artificers to the art preferred by the Court, and as their final
abandonment of the pure style, which had been traditional with them.
In 1521 the Bishop Don Alonso Manrique obtained permission from the
Emperor Charles V. to erect the Gothic cathedral, which is in existence
to-day. Three years later, when he visited the buildings, the Emperor
repented having given his permission. Indeed the Christian work appears
cold and pallid by the side of that of the Arabs.
As Amados de los Rios, a great Spanish antiquary and Orientalist, sings
in his mournful requiem over the departed glories of the mosque:
“Neither the sumptuous Christian fabric that to-day rises in the midst
of those countless columns, nor all the treasures of art lavished upon
it by the celebrated artists of the sixteenth century who erected it,
nor that interminable series of chapels of every epoch which, resting
against the walls of the mosque disfigure it; nor the clumsy angels that
seem to suspend their flight to shed glory over the Divine service, nor
the words of the Evangelist sounding from the seat of the Holy Spirit,
can dispel or banish, in the slightest degree, the majesty of those
wandering shades that in vain seek in the sanctuary the sacred volume
whose leaves, according to tradition, were enamelled with the blood of
the Khalif Othman, martyr to the faith. A world of souvenirs here
enthrals the mind of the traveller as he gazes with a feeling of sorrow
upon these profanations--works dedicated by the intolerant, yet sincere,
faith of our ancestors; impelled by the desire of banishing for ever
from that spot, consecrated to the law of Jesus, the spirit of Mohammed
and the ghosts of his slaves that haunt it, and will for ever haunt it
while it exists. For, in spite of the mutilations it has endured, and of
the changes it has undergone, there is impressed upon it, by a superior
ineradicable law, the seal of the art that inspired it, and the
character of the people by whom it was planned and erected.”
Don Amados is not alone in his eloquent, if unavailing, protest. When
Charles V. observed St. Peter’s Chapel rising out of the very centre of
the mosque, he rebuked the Bishop,
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE GATES OF PARDON.]
[Illustration: THE BISHOP’S GATE.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE--PILASTERS AND ARABIAN BATHS.]
Alonso Manriquez, who had erected the incongruous edifice, in no
measured terms. “You have built here,” said the king, “what you or
anyone might have built elsewhere; but you have spoilt what was unique
in the world.” Alas! the monarch had forgotten, or did not choose to
remember, that the reprimand came with a very bad grace from one who,
for his never-completed palace at Granada, had torn down whole courts
and halls of the Alhambra.
The mosque of Cordova is still to-day, by universal consent, the most
beautiful Mussulman temple, and one of the most wonderful architectural
monuments in the world. The susceptible Italian author, Edmondo de
Amicis, has given us a vividly picturesque description of his first
impression of the interior of the building. “Imagine a forest,” he says,
“fancy yourself in the thickest portion of it, and that you can see
nothing but the trunks of trees. So, in this mosque, on whatever side
you look, the eye loses itself among the columns. It is a forest of
marble, whose confines one cannot discover. You follow with your eye,
one by one, the very long rows of columns that interlace at every step
with numberless other rows, and you reach a semi-obscure background, in
which other columns seem to be gleaming. There are nineteen aisles,
which extend from north to south, traversed by thirty-three others,
supported (among them all) by more than nine hundred columns of
porphyry, jasper, breccia, and marbles of every colour. Each column
upholds a small pilaster, and between them runs an arch, and a second
one extends from pilaster to pilaster, the latter placed above the
former, and both of them in the form of a horseshoe; so that in
imagining the columns to be the trunks of so many trees, the arches
represent the branches, and the similitude of the mosque to a forest is
complete. The middle aisle, much broader than the others, ends in front
of the “maksurrah,” which is the most sacred part of the temple, where
the Koran was worshipped. Here, from the windows in the ceiling, falls a
pale ray of light that illuminates a row of columns; there is a dark
spot; farther on falls a second ray, which lights another aisle. It is
impossible to express the feeling of mysterious surprise which that
spectacle arouses in your soul. It is like the sudden revelation of an
unknown religion, nature, and life, which bears away your imagination to
the delight of that paradise, full of love and voluptuousness, where the
blessed, seated under the shade of leafy palm trees and thornless rose
bushes, drink from crystal vases the wine, sparkling like pearls, mixed
by immortal children, and take their repose in the arms of charming
black-eyed virgins! All the pictures of eternal pleasure, which the
Koran promises to the faithful, present themselves to your bright mind,
gleaming and vivid, at the first sight of the mosque, and cause you a
sweet momentary intoxication, which leaves in your heart an
indescribable sort of melancholy! A brief tumult of the mind, and a
spark of fire rushes through your brain--such is the first sensation one
experiences upon entering the cathedral of Cordova.”
Listen again to the musings of this same impressionable writer, as he
gazes at the ceiling and walls of the principal chapel, the only part of
the mosque that is quite intact. “It is,” he says, “a dazzling gleam of
crystals of a thousand colours, a network of arabesques, which puzzles
the mind, and a complication of bas-reliefs, gildings, ornaments,
minutiæ of design and colouring, of a delicacy, grace and perfection
sufficient to drive the most patient painter distracted. It is
impossible to retain any of the pretentious work in the mind. You might
turn a hundred times to look at it, and it would only seem to you, in
thinking it over, a
[Illustration: CORDOVA
INSCRIPTIONS AND ARABIAN CHAPTERS.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE--A CUFIC INSCRIPTION IN THE PLACE APPROPRIATED TO THE
PERFORMANCE OF ABLUTIONS.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
ARABIC INSCRIPTIONS.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
A CUFIC INSCRIPTION ON THE ADDITIONS MADE TO THE MOSQUE, BY ORDER OF THE
KHALIF AL-HAKAM.]
mingling of blue, red, green, gilded, and luminous points, or a very
intricate embroidery, changing continually, with the greatest rapidity,
both design and colouring. Only from the fiery and indefatigable
imagination of the Arabs could such a perfect miracle of art emanate.”
But if the mere shell of this majestic edifice, this voiceless testimony
to the glory of a world-power that has gone the way of all temporal
empires is still eloquent in decay, and still a force to stir the
imagination, what must it have been when the spirit of Moslemism filled
its courts, and the temple resounded with praise and devotion? We can
get some idea of the impressiveness of a Mohammedan service in the pages
of Frederick Schack’s _Poetry and Art of the Arabs in Spain and Sicily_.
The following vivid passage is a description of the mosque of Cordova on
a solemn fête day: “On both sides of the pulpit wave two standards to
signify that Islam has triumphed over Judaism and Christianity, and that
the Koran has conquered the Old and New Testaments. The ‘Almnedian’
climb upon the gallery of the high minaret and intone the ‘salam’ or
salutation to the Prophet. Then the nave of the mosque fills with
believers, who, clothed in white and wearing a festive aspect, gather
for the oration. In a few moments, throughout the edifice nothing is to
be seen but kneeling people. By the secret way which joins the temple to
the alcazar, comes the khalif, who seats himself in his elevated place.
A reader of the Koran reads a Sura on the reading-desk of the Tribune.
The voice of the Muezzin sounds again, inviting people to the noon-day
prayers. All the faithful rise and murmur their prayers, making
obeisances. A servant of the mosque opens the doors of the pulpit and
seizes a sword, with which, turning towards Mecca, he admonishes all to
praise Mohammed, while the Prophet’s name is being celebrated from the
Tribune by the singing of the ‘mubaliges.’ After this the preacher
ascends the pulpit, taking from the hand of the servant the sword, which
recalls and symbolises the subjection of Spain to the power of Islam. It
is the day on which ‘Djihad,’ or the holy war, is to be proclaimed, the
call for all able-bodied men to descend into the battle-field against
the Christians. The multitude listen with silent devotion to the
discourse (woven from the head of the Koran) which begins like this:
“‘Praised be God, who has increased the glory of Islam, thanks to the
sword of the champion of the Faith, and who, in his Holy Book, has
promised aid and victory to the believer.
“‘Allah scatters his benefits over the world.
“‘If he did not impel men to dash armed against each other, the earth
would be lost.
“‘Allah has ordered that the people be fought against until they know
there is but one God.
“‘The flame of war will not be extinguished until the end of the world.
“‘The Divine benediction will fall upon the mane of the war-horse until
the Day of Judgment.
“‘Be you armed from head to foot, or only lightly armed, rise, and take
your departure.
“‘O, believers! what will become of you if, when you are called to
battle, you remain with your face turned toward the ground?
“‘Do you prefer the life of this world to that of the future?
“‘Believe me: the gates of paradise stand in the shadow of the sword.
“‘He who dies in battle for the cause of God, washes with the blood he
sheds all the stains of his sins.
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE BRIDGE ACROSS THE GUADELQUIVIR, WITH A VIEW OF THE CATHEDRAL
(MEZQUITA). THE SCENE AS IT APPEARED IN 1780.
From _Antigüedades Arabes de España_. Madrid, 1780, fol.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
VIEW OF CORDOVA CATHEDRAL (MEZQUITA), AS IT APPEARED IN 1780.
From _Antigüedades Arabes de España_. Madrid, 1780. fol.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
WALL OF THE MOSQUE.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
FAÇADE OF THE MIHRAB.]
“‘His body will not be washed like the other bodies, because in the Day
of Judgment his wounds will send out a fragrance like musk.
“‘When the warriors shall present themselves at the Gates of Paradise, a
voice from within will ask: “What have you done during your life?”
“‘And they will reply: “We have brandished the sword in the struggle for
the cause of God.”
“‘Then the eternal Gates will open, and the warriors will enter forty
years before the others.
“‘Up, then, O believers! Abandon women, children, brothers, and worldly
possessions, and go forth to the holy war!
“‘And thou, O God, Lord of the present and future world, fight for the
armies of those who recognise thy Unity! Destroy the incredulous,
idolaters, and enemies of thy holy faith! Overthrow their standards, and
give them, with all they possess, as booty to the Mussulmans!’”
The preacher, when he has finished his discourse, exclaims, turning
towards the congregation: “Ask of God!” and prays in silence. All the
faithful, touching the ground with their foreheads, follow his example.
The “mubaliges” sing: “Amen! Amen, O Lord of all beings!” Like the
intense heat which precedes the tempest, the enthusiasm of the multitude
(restrained, up to this time, in a marvellous silence) breaks out in
loud murmurs, which, rising like the waves of the sea, and inundating
the temple, finally make the echo of a thousand united voices resound
through the naves, chapels, and vaults in one single shout: “There is no
God but Allah!”
Abd-er-Rahman I. was old when he commenced the building of the Mosque,
and experienced in every description of architecture. His passion for
building was as eager as that of his predecessors of the house of
Omeyyad, who had made Damascus the envy of the world; and, during the
frequent periods of peace, he had turned all his thoughts to the
adornment of his capital by works which he had himself superintended.
One of his first undertakings was to supply Cordova with water by means
of an aqueduct, which came from the distant hills, and the vestiges of
which are visible to this day. The water thus brought from the mountains
was conveyed to the palace, and thence carried to every quarter of the
city by means of conduits, from which it flowed into basins, as well as
into lakes, enormous tanks, reservoirs and fountains. The sultan then
planted a most delightful garden, to which he gave the name of
Munyat-Arrissafah, in remembrance of a country seat near Damascus, which
his grandfather, the Khalif Hisham, had built, and where he himself had
spent the earliest years of his life. Finding the spot a very charming
one, he erected in the middle of it a magnificent palace; and, moreover,
made it his residence in preference to the old palace, inhabited by the
former governors of Andalus. Having an ardent love of horticulture, he
commissioned a botanist to procure for him in the East fruits and plants
that could be easily naturalised in Andalus; and, in this manner, it is
said, Abd-er-Rahman introduced the peach, and the particular kind of
pomegranate, called “Safari,” into Spain. It is believed that this best
species of pomegranate obtained its name from having been sent to
Abd-er-Rahman by his sister, then residing in the East, and was called
“Safari,” or “the Traveller,” from this circumstance. Other derivations
of the name are given, all plausible enough. One thing is certain, the
fruit is called to this day in Spain, “Granada Zafari,” and is
considered the best of its kind in point of flavour, smallness of seed,
and abundance of juice.
[Illustration: CORDOVA