[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE--LATTICE.]
Abd-er-Rahman II. carried on the work of beautifying Cordova with
gardens, palaces, and bridges, but it was the third sovereign of his
name, the Great Khalif, Abd-er-Rahman III., who restored the Moslem
supremacy in Spain, and won for himself the title of En-Nasir
li-dini-llah (“The Defender of the Faith of God”), who placed the crown
on Cordova’s beauty and splendour. Byzantium, perhaps, compared with it
in the loveliness of her buildings, and the luxury and refinement of her
life, but no other city of Europe could approach the “Bride of
Andalusia.” “To her,” sang the old Arab writer, “belong all the beauty
and the ornament that delight the eye and dazzle the sight. Her long
line of Sultans form her crown of glory; her necklace is strung with the
pearls which her poets have gathered from the ocean of language; her
dress is of the canvas of learning well knit together by her men of
science; and the masters of every art and industry are the hem of her
garments.”
“The inhabitants of Cordova,” says Ahmed-El-Makkari, the great Arab
historian, “are famous for their courteous and polished manners, their
superior intelligence, their exquisite taste and magnificence in their
meals, dress, and horses. There thou wouldst see doctors, shining with
all sorts of learning; lords, distinguished by their virtue and
generosity; warriors, renowned for their expeditions into the country of
the infidels; and officers, experienced in all kinds of warfare. To
Cordova came from all parts of the world students eager to cultivate
poetry, to study the sciences, or to be instructed in divinity or law;
so that it became the meeting-place of the eminent in all matters, the
abode of the learned, and the place of resort for the studious; its
interior was always filled with the eminent and the noble of all
countries, its literary men and soldiers were continually vying with
each other to gain renown, and its precincts never ceased to be the
arena of the distinguished, the retreat of scholars, the halting place
of the noble, and the repository of the true and virtuous. Cordova was
to Andalus what the head is to the body, or what the breast is to the
lion.”
To-day there is nothing left in Cordova but the mosque, the bridge, and
the ruins of the alcazar to mark the spot where, in the time of
Abd-er-Rahman III., a city, ten miles in length, lined the banks of the
Guadelquivir with mosques and gardens and marble palaces. The royal
palaces of the Great Khalif included the Palace of Lovers, the Palace of
Flowers, the Palace of Contentment, the Palace of the Diadem, and the
palace which the Sultan named Damascus, of which the Moorish poet sang,
“All palaces in the world are nothing compared to Damascus, for not only
has it gardens with the most delicious fruits and sweet-smelling
flowers, beautiful prospects, and limpid running waters, clouds pregnant
with aromatic dew, and lofty buildings; but its night is always
perfumed, for morning pours on it her gray amber, and night her black
musk.” The city contained over fifty thousand palaces of the nobles, and
twice that number of houses of the common people, while seven hundred
mosques and nine hundred public baths had close companionship among a
community who made cleanliness co-ordinate with godliness.
But perhaps the greatest monument of Moorish architecture that was ever
created in Spain, the most wonderful city and palace that has ever been
constructed, is to-day a name and a memory of which not a trace is in
existence. That marvellous suburb of Cordova, called Ez-Zahra, “the
Fairest,” which was built at the suggestion of the favourite mistress of
Abd-er-Rahman III., and was
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE--ORNAMENTAL ARCHED WINDOW.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
THE MOSQUE--CAPITALS OF THE ENTRANCE ARCH.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
DETAILS OF THE FRIEZE.]
[Illustration: PLAN.]
[Illustration: KEYSTONE OF ORNAMENTAL ARCH.]
[Illustration: CORDOVA
DETAIL OF THE CORNICE.]
[Illustration: DETAIL OF THE CORNICE.]
forty years in the making, has been entirely obliterated. At the foot of
the “Hill of the Bridge,” at a distance of three miles from Cordova, the
foundation of the city was laid in A.D. 936. A third of the royal income
was expended every year in the prosecution of the work. Ten thousand
labourers and three thousand beasts of burden were employed continually,
and six thousand blocks of stone were cut and polished each day for
building purposes. Many of its four thousand columns came from Rome,
Constantinople, and Carthage; its fifteen thousand doors were coated
with iron and polished brass; the walls and roof in the Hall of the
Khalif were constructed of marble and gold. A marble statue of Ez-Zahra,
“the Fairest,” was erected over the principal gateway.
Arabian chroniclers have exhausted their eloquence in attempting to do
justice to the wonders of Medinat-Ez-Zahra, and the result is so
monotonous a surfeit of superlatives that even the beauty that inspired
them can scarcely reconcile us to the repetition. But the historians
occasionally drop into prose in recounting the marvels of the palace,
and then we learn that “the number of male servants employed by the
khalif has been estimated at thirteen thousand seven hundred and fifty,
to whom the daily allowance of flesh meat, exclusive of fowls and fish,
was thirteen thousand pounds; the number of women of various kinds and
classes, comprising the harem of the sultan or waiting upon them, is
said to have amounted to six thousand three hundred and fourteen. The
Slav pages and eunuchs were three thousand three hundred and fifty, to
whom thirteen thousand pounds of flesh meat were distributed daily, some
receiving ten pounds each, and some less, according to their rank and
station, exclusive of fowls, partridges, and birds of other sorts, game,
and fish. The daily allowance of bread for the fish in the pond of
Ez-Zahra was twelve thousand loaves, besides six measures of black
pulse, which were every day macerated in the waters.” It is small wonder
that travellers from distant lands, men of all ranks and professions in
life, following various religions--princes, ambassadors, merchants,
pilgrims, theologians, and poets--all agreed that they had never seen in
the course of their travels anything that could be compared to it.
“Indeed,” writes one Moorish chronicler, “had this palace possessed
nothing more than the terrace of polished marble overhanging the
matchless gardens, with the golden hall and the circular pavilion, and
the works of art of every sort and description--had it nothing else to
boast of but the masterly workmanship of the structure, the boldness of
the design, the beauty of the proportions, the elegance of the
ornaments, hangings, and decorations, whether of shining marble or
glittering gold, the columns that seemed from their symmetry and
smoothness as if they had been turned by lathes, the paintings that
resembled the choicest landscapes, the artificial lake so solidly
constructed, the cistern perpetually filled with clear and limpid water,
and the amazing fountains, with figures of living beings--no
imagination, however fertile, could have formed an idea of it.” So at
least it struck the Moorish author, and the sight inspired him to
ejaculate: “Praise be to God Most High for allowing His humble creatures
to design and build such enchanting palaces as this, and who permitted
them to inhabit them as a sort of recompense in this world; and in order
that the faithful might be encouraged to follow the path of virtue, by
the reflection that, delightful as were these pleasures, they were still
far below those reserved for the true believer in the celestial
Paradise!”
The effect of all this massed splendour upon the mind,
[Illustration: CORDOVA
CAPITAL OF ARCH.]
[Illustration: SIDE VIEW OF THE CORNICE.]
[Illustration: BASES.]
[Illustration:
EAST FAÇADE, WITHOUT THE PORTICO.]
even of those whose position and duties made familiar with the treasures
of Abd-er-Rahman’s palaces, is illustrated by one of the ambassadors of
the Greek Emperor. The khalif received Constantine’s emissaries in the
great hall of the palace of Ez-Zahra, which was specially arranged for
the occasion. The richest carpets and rugs, and the most gorgeous silk
awnings, covered the floor, and veiled the doors and arches, and in the
midst of the apartment was set up the royal throne, overlaid with gold,
and glittering with precious stones. On the right and left of the throne
stood the khalif’s sons, beside them were the viziers, and behind them,
in the order of their rank, were ranged the chamberlains, the nobles,
and officers of the household. The ambassadors were awed and amazed by
the magnificence of the scene, and the orator, charged with the office
of delivering the speech of welcome, was literally struck dumb by the
splendour of the spectacle. With wide, staring eyes and speechless lips
he stood spellbound, caught in a maze of wonder. This man, who had grown
accustomed to superb beauty, who had seen splendour piled upon splendour
under the directing hand of his master, was paralysed by the effect it
produced. His brain reeled, and, without uttering a word, he fell
senseless to the ground. A second orator took the embossed scroll, and
faced the august assemblage, but the witchery of the scene hypnotised
his senses, and he, too, hesitated, faltered, and broke down.
The mere outward and visible aspect of this “brightest splendour of the
world,” as the nun Hroswitha described it, fired the imagination of man,
and deprived the practised orators of speech. But the mind of Cordova at
this period of its history was as beautiful as its frame. It was the
fountain-head of learning, the well-spring of art, the scientific centre
of Europe. Literature became the study of every class, poetry was the
common language of the people. The potters, the silk weavers, the glass
blowers, the jewellers, swordmakers, and brass workers of Cordova were
renowned throughout Europe--in all that appertained to art she was
acknowledged to stand pre-eminent. The greatest doctors, the most
skilled surgeons, had their homes in Cordova; and astronomers,
geographers, chemists, philosophers, and scientists of every kind
resorted thither to study and prosecute their researches.
Under Hakam II., the Royal library at Cordova became the largest and
most celebrated collection of books in the world; and under Almanzor,
the powerful minister who ruled Spain for the Khalif Hisham, the beauty
of the Imperial city was jealously maintained. But the end of the
Omeyyad dynasty was even then in sight, the sun of Cordova’s glory was
already commencing to set. After the death of Almanzor
“Sultan after Sultan with his pomp
Abode his destin’d hour and went his way,”
the puppet khalifs were enthroned and deposed at the will of successive
prevailing factions. Anarchy had broken out again, the mob was Sultan,
and the work of pillage and plunder was begun. The overthrow of the
Almanzor order was followed by the wrecking of the Almanzor palace,
which was ransacked and burned to the ground. For four days the work of
riot, robbery, and massacre went on unchecked. Palace after palace was
reduced to ruins, gardens were devastated, the public squares ran with
blood. The brutal, savage Berbers captured the beautiful city of
Ez-Zahra (A.D. 1010) by treachery, and put its garrisons to the sword,
while the flying inhabitants were chased into the sacred precincts of
the mosque and butchered without mercy.
Ez-Zahra, “the city of the fairest,” was pillaged; its palaces and
mosques were thrown down, and the walls were given to the flames. To-day
its site alone remains, and its glories exist only in name.
SEVILLE
The beginning of the history of Seville is buried, with the date of its
foundation, in oblivion. It has its place in mythology as the creation
of Hercules; its origin being more reasonably credited to the
Phœnicians, who colonised the mineral-yielding region of Andalusia,
which is watered by the Guadalquivir, and called it Tartessii. Strabo
states that they built the town of Tartessus; and some authorities
favour the conclusion that Seville stands on the site of that Phœnician
stronghold. In 237 B.C. Hamilcar Barca conquered Andalusia, and his
son-in-law founded Carthagena, which was seized by Publius Cornelius
Scipio, or Scipio Africanus, during the second Punic War. Scipio founded
Italica, which was to serve as a sanatorium for his invalided soldiers,
and for awhile its importance eclipsed that of the neighbouring city of
Seville. Honoured by the gifts of three Roman emperors born within its
walls, and adorned with the splendid edifices raised by Trajan, Adrian,
and Theodosius, Italica was advanced to the first rank among the Roman
cities of the Peninsula. Julius Cæsar restored the balance of power to
Seville in 45 B.C., when he made it his capital, and changed its name to
Julia Romula. The city was fortified and protected by walls, which have
been variously described as from five to ten miles in length. To-day the
remains of the great aqueduct, the two high granite columns in the
Alameda de Hercules, and the beautiful fragments of capitals and statues
in the Museo Arqælogico, are the only existing relics of the Roman sway
in Seville, while on the opposite bank of the Guadalquivir a ruined,
grass-grown amphitheatre is all that is left of the once mighty town of
Italica. In 584 Leovigild repaired the walls of Italica when he was
beseiging Seville, and less than two centuries later those walls were
greatly injured by the Moors, who further fortified and enlarged Seville
with the stones brought from Italica.
In 711 Tarik captured Cordova, and in the following year Musa, the
Governor of Africa, appeared before Seville with an army of 18,000
warriors. In a few weeks the city had fallen, and for 536 years the
“Pearl of Andalusia” remained in the possession of the Moors. The
conquerors abandoned Italica to its fate, or, rather, they used the
remains of the city as a quarry, while some of the sculpture of the
deserted capital, which appealed to the Arabs by its surpassing beauty,
was removed to Seville. Despite the injunctions contained in the Koran,
the sculptures were not destroyed, and a statue of Venus was long
preserved in one of the public baths of the city. El-Makkari, writing in
the sixteenth century, and quoting from an early Moorish manuscript,
records that “there was once found a marble statue of a woman with a
boy, so admirably executed that both looked as if they were alive; such
perfection human eyes never beheld. Indeed, some Sevillians were so much
struck with its beauty as to become deeply enamoured of it.” An
anonymous poet, a native of Seville, made a set of verses about it,
which have been translated by Don Pascual de Gayangos as follows:
“Look at that marble statue, beautiful in its proportions,
surpassing everything in transparency and smoothness.
“She has with her a son, it is true, but who her husband
was I cannot tell, neither was she ever in labour.
“Thou knowest her to be but a stone, but yet thou canst
not look at her, for there is in her eyes something that
fascinates and confounds the beholder.”
It has been said that the Sevillians pretend to regard Hercules as the
builder of the city, and the _Puerta de la Carne_ is inscribed with the
following distich:
“_Condidit Alcides--renovavit Julius urbem,
Restituit Christo Fernandus tertius heros._”
This has been paraphrased in an inscription over the Puerta de Xerex:
“Hercules me edificó
Julio Cesar me cercó
De muros y torres altas;
Un Rey godo me perdió,
El Rey Santo me ganó,
Con Garci Perez de Vargas.”
Hercules built me; Julius Cæsar encircled me with walls and lofty
towers; a Gothic king (Roderick) lost me; a saint-like king (St.
Ferdinand), assisted by Garci Perez de Vargas, regained me.
The inscription might well have included the name of the brother of
Garci Perez, Diego de Vargas, surnamed “El Machuca,” or “the Pounder,”
who performed prodigies of valour at the breaking of the Moorish bridge
of boats across the Guadalquivir, when the destruction of that
gallantly-defended means of access to the city led to the capture of
Seville by the Christians in 1248. These two brothers are the heroes of
Spanish ballads, and were greatly distinguished by St. Ferdinand; the
grateful monarch freely acknowledging their prowess by the bestowal of
houses and lands wrested from the Moors. A curious “Repartimiento,” or
Domesday Book of Seville, is still extant, and many families can trace
their actual possessions back to this original partition.
Musa appointed his son, Abdelasis, a brave soldier and a humane ruler,
to be governor of Seville. That he was a successful general, that he
married Egilona, the widow of the unfortunate King Roderick, and was
murdered by the order of Suleyman, brother and heir of the Khalif of
Damascus, is all that history records of him. A malignant rumour, that
he was scheming to make himself sole ruler of the Berber dominion in
Spain, reached Damascus. Suleyman immediately sent emissaries to Seville
with secret instructions that Abdelasis should be put to death, adding
as an incentive to swift compliance with his order, that whoever among
them executed the deed, should be appointed his successor as Amir of
Seville. The delegates were armed with friendly letters to Abdelasis,
who received them cordially, and entertained them in accordance with his
exalted position as an amir under the khalif. It appears, according to
the tradition, that the scheme was revealed to ’Abdullah Ibn, “who was
the most eminent and most conspicuous officer in the army.” ’Abdullah,
however, would have no hand in the projected assassination, but, on the
contrary, endeavoured to dissuade the conspirators from their purpose,
saying to them: “You know the hand of Musa has conferred benefits on
every one of you: if the Commander of the Faithful has been informed as
you represent, he has been told a lie. Abdelasis has never raised his
hand in disobedience to his master, nor dreamt of revolting against
him.” Suleyman’s emissaries, however, disregarded his words, and decided
on the murder. One morn they stood among the rest at the gates of the
palace, waiting till the governor should go to the mosque, and, when he
appeared, followed him to prayer. Scarcely had he entered the “kiblah,”
and begun to read the Koran, than one of the conspirators rushed upon
the governor and stabbed him. Abdelasis, leaving the “kiblah,” took
refuge in the body of the mosque, whither he was followed and slain.
When the news spread through the city, the inhabitants
[Illustration: PLATE XXV
SEVILLE.
Frieze in the Hall of Ambassadors.]
[Illustration: Mosaic of the large Court, Alcazar.]
[Illustration: Stucco work, Hall of Ambassadors.]
[Illustration: Mosaic of the large Court.]
[Illustration: SEVILLE
FAÇADE OF THE ALCAZAR.]
[Illustration: SEVILLE
ALCAZAR--GATES OF THE PRINCIPAL ENTRANCE.]
were roused to fury. The assassins produced the letters and commands of
the khalif, but to no purpose; the people refused to abide by the
sultan’s behests, and chose ’Abdullah to be his successor. ’Abdullah
was, however, quickly displaced by Ayub, Suleyman’s nominee, and the
conspirators then departed to make their report at Damascus, carrying
with them the head of the unfortunate Abdelasis.
The author of the tradition, Mohammed Ibn, says that when these
emissaries arrived at Damascus and produced the head of Abdelasis before
Suleyman, he sent immediately for Musa. Upon his appearance, Suleyman,
pointing to the head, said: “Dost thou know whose head that is?” “Yes,”
answered Musa, “it is the head of my son Commander of the Faithful, the
head of Abdelasis (may Allah show him mercy) is before thee, but by the
life of Allah there was never a Moslem who less deserved such unjust
treatment; for he passed his days in fasting, and his nights in prayer;
no man ever performed greater deeds to serve the cause of the Almighty,
or His messenger Mohammed; no man was more firm in his obedience to
thee. None of thy predecessors would have served him thus. Thou even
wouldest never have done what thou hast to him, had there been justice
in thee.” Suleyman retorted, “Thou liest, O Musa, thy son was not as
thou hast represented him; he was impious and forgetful of our religion,
he was the persecutor of the Moslems, and the sworn enemy of his
sovereign, the Commander of the Faithful. Such was thy son, O doting,
foolish, fond old man!” Musa replied, “By Allah! I am no dotard, nor
would I deviate from truth, wert thou to answer my words with the blows
of death. I speak as the honest slave should speak to his master, but I
place my confidence in God, whose help I implore. Grant me his head, O
Commander of the Faithful, that I may close his eyes.” And Suleyman
said: “Thou mayest take it.” As Musa was leaving the Hall of Audience
one who was present wished to interfere with him, but Suleyman said:
“Let Musa alone, he has been sorely punished;” and added: “The old man’s
spirit is still unbroken.” But the old man, whose name had once stood
for the symbol of conquest, whose initiative had won Spain for the Moor,
had received his death sentence. Grief, which could not bend his spirit,
seized upon his frame. The old man fell sick of grief and shame, and in
a little while he was dead.
Suleyman’s treachery had its first result in the removal of the seat of
Moorish rule in Spain to Cordova. Ayub, the successor of Abdelasis,
recognising the insecurity of his tenure in Seville, forsook “the Pearl
of Andalusia” with all speed, and when in 777, Abd-er-Rahman proclaimed
himself sole ruler of Spain, it was from his palace at Cordova that the
fiat was sent forth to the world. Seville, the first and the natural
capital of the South, dropped into second place among the cities of the
Peninsula, and it was not until 1078 that it re-established its claim as
the Moorish metropolis. For three hundred and fifty years the Moslems
were faithful to the sovereignty of Cordova; and although Seville came,
by reason of its beautiful palaces, gardens, and baths, to be regarded
as one of the fairest cities of earth; the alcazar and the lordly
mosque, which now bear evidence of its former grandeur, are of a later
Moorish period. And Seville grew in beauty under, and in spite of, the
destructive influence of strife and conflict. While Abd-er-Rahman was
cultivating the graces of Cordova, Seville was being desolated by many
assaults. Yusuf, and, after his death, his three sons, made attacks upon
Seville, and Hixem ben Adri el Fehri, who had stirred the Toledans to
insurrection, was
[Illustration: SEVILLE.
ALCAZAR.
Hall of Ambassadors. Details.]
[Illustration: SEVILLE
FAÇADE OF THE ALCAZAR.]
[Illustration: SEVILLE
CHIEF ENTRANCE TO THE ALCAZAR, MOORISH STYLE, BUILT UNDER DON PEDRO I.
THE CRUEL, 1369-1379.]
subsequently defeated at the gates of Seville by the Governor,
Abdelmelic. At a later date, Cassim, the son of Abdelmelic, fled with
his army before the advance of the Wali of Mequinez, and was stabbed to
death by his father for cowardice. Abdelmelic, who threw himself upon
the invaders, was overcome and wounded in a night battle on the banks of
the Guadalquivir; but, despite his hurt and his defeat, he rallied his
soldiers, and drove the hitherto victorious Wali through the streets of
Seville, and out again into the open country, where he was captured and
killed.