ARCHITECTURE OF THE MOSQUES
Gothic architecture is expressive of much that a mixed or transitory
style lacks, but again the Roman, or Lombard, or the later architecture
of the Renaissance, have their own particular cachet quite as
recognizable and quite as well defined.
Mohammedan architecture, so different in motif and treatment, is quite
as expressive and, in many ways, quite as civilized as the architectural
forms of Europe, and possesses in addition a certain feeling which baked
clay and plaster suggests better than all other materials. A feeling
which is often entirely wanting in cut stone when used to reproduce
animal and plant forms.
Saracenic, Assyrian, Persian and Byzantine architectural details are all
of them beautiful, if bizarre, but the Mohammedan architecture of the
Moors outranks them all for sheer appeal, fantastic and less consistent
though it be. Fantastic it is, but often in a simple, suggestive way,
depending upon design and proportion rather than profuse decoration.
This is why the mosques of Kairouan in Tunisia, or those of Tlemcen in
Algeria are even more interesting than the great Mosque of Saint Sophia,
or the palace corridors of the Alhambra itself, which are, in fact, but
a mixture of several styles. Terra-cotta and baked clay are all right in
their way, but their way is the Mohammedan builders' way, not that of
the modern school architects who simulate cut stone in the same plastic
products, and build up Turkish baths in palatial twenty-story Broadway
hotels with the pagan decorations of ancient Rome, when what they had in
mind all the time was the fountained courtyard of a Mohammedan
mosque--not by any means a symbolism of paganism. Our new-school
architects of the Western world sadly muddle things at times. Moorish
arabesques do not mingle well with the palmer's shells of the Italian
Renaissance and the English fan-lights of the brothers Adam.
The word mosque comes properly from the word _mesgid_, signifying place
of adoration. The Italians make of the word, _moscheta_; the Spaniards,
_meschita_; and the French, _mosquée_. All these variations are met with
in North Africa. It is well to recognize them, for both Algeria and
Tunisia are more "mixed" in their language and institutions than any
other lands yet become affected of twentieth-century tourists. The
mixture is perhaps the more likable because of its catholicity. It is
certainly more interesting; but school-board and self-taught linguists
will need all their wits about them to make the most of the soft, sweet
tongue of a desert Arab who lisps first in French, then in Spanish and
then in Italian, with perhaps an "_Oh, yes!_" or an "_All right!_" here
and there. He modestly reserves his own Arabic for an exclusive harangue
among his intimates.
The conventional type of mosque is undoubtedly reminiscent of the Greek
basilica, but in every way more amply disposed. The plan herewith is the
accepted conventional type of great mosque before it got crowded up in
the cities. To-day in most large towns and cities the mosque has been
shorn of many of its attributes, leaving only the inner sanctuaries
remaining.
The plainness of the exterior of the mosques of North Africa is no
indication of the gorgeousness of their interiors. An imposing sobriety
of exterior, of all the mosques of Islam
[Illustration: _Ground Plan of a Mosque_
A Outer Court. B Inner Court or Sahn. C Pulpits on which the Koran is
placed. D Fountain. E Tribune from which the Muezzin calls to prayer. F
Three praying-niches. G Horses and camels. H Strangers. I Bath. J
Drinking-fountain. K Well.]
in the Moghreb, from Tlemcen to Kairouan, invariably clothes dentelled
sculpture and mouldings, fine rugs and hangings, and a labyrinth of
architectural fantasies possessed by no other class of civil or
religious edifices extant.
The architecture of the mosques of Algeria and Tunisia, as of those of
Constantinople and Cairo, is the apotheosis of a mysterious symbolism,
at which the infidel can but wonder and speculate. He will never
understand it, at least he will never feel it as does the Mussulman
himself. It is unfortunate that we outsiders are thought of as
unbelievers, but so it is. One does not forget that even
twentieth-century Arab gamins at Suez and Port Saïd revile the Christian
with their guttural:
"_Ya Nasrani
Kalb awani!_"
This venerable abuse means nothing more or less than:
"O Nazarene
O dog obscene!"
This comes down from tradition, for the same thing is recounted in
Percy's "Reliques." There, in a certain anecdote, a knight calls his
Mussulman opponent "_unchristian hound_," to which the retort courteous
was given as, "christen dogge."
Of all the dainty features of a Moorish mosque none appeals to the
artist as does the minaret. Minaret is the Arab name for a chandelier,
lantern, signal fire, and finally the slim, graceful tower of purely
Arab origin. Properly speaking it is in the application to the Mussulman
place of worship, the mosque, that we know the minaret in its most
poetic form. In its architectural sense, however, it is that slim,
graceful, arrow-like tower which is so frequently a component part of a
Moorish or Byzantine structure.
The Hebrews had a similar word for a tower which performed similar
functions--_menorah_; and the Chaldeans the word _menora_; while,
finally, the Syrians adopted _menortho_. Of the exotic origin of the
word there is no doubt, but a minaret is first of all something more
than a mere tower. It must be of special proportions, and it must be an
adjunct to a more pretentious structure. Never is a minaret a thing
apart.
For a comparison between the Byzantine minaret and that born of the
ingenuity of the Moorish builder, the words of Théophile Gautier must be
accepted as final: "The minarets of Saint Sophia (Constantinople) have
not the elegance nor _sveltesse_ of those of the Moor."
The minaret of the mosque of the Sultan Kalaûn at Cairo is perhaps the
most splendid of all contemporary works. Its height approximates two
hundred feet, and though the mosque itself is ruined, its firm, square
minaret, brilliant with all the fantasy of the best of Mussulman art, is
to-day quite the most splendid example of its class above ground.
The minaret of El Bardenei, also at Cairo, runs the former a close
second.
The square, dazzling white and more severe, though none less beautiful,
minarets of Tunis and Algiers seem almost as if they were another
species from the Cairene type. In reality they are not. They are one and
the same thing, differing in no essential constructive element, but only
in detail of decoration.
The Arabs, seemingly, have a horror of symmetry. No two structures in
one street are on the same building line or at the same angle, and the
sky-lines of even the Frenchified cities of Algiers and Tunis are as
bizarre as that of lower New York, though not as elevated.
The Arab's idea of a street building line is most rudimentary, but
French engineers are helping him out, and boulevards, avenues and
streets are being laid out, and roads and alleys straightened as
opportunity offers. The Arab looks on stolidly and doesn't in the least
seem to object, though it answered him well enough previously that the
doorway of his favourite mosque should be half-hidden and almost
obstructed by the jutting veranda of a Moorish café, a sheep butcher's,
a silversmith's, or a red and yellow awninged bath-house, and these, be
it noted, were all set at varying angles and inclinations.
A _moucharabia_ is a component of every Arab, Moorish or Turkish
structure of any pretence. Its name sounds as though it might have some
relation to a fly-screen, and in a certain sense it is that, though not
an impenetrable one. It is more like the choir-screen of a Renaissance
church.
In reality the _moucharabia_ is a lattice or _grille_ of wood or even
iron, sometimes ornate and finely carved, and sometimes merely a barred
gate or door.
When these fine latticed _grilles_ are taken away by the housebreaker,
and offered the dealer in curios, they take on an exalted value that
the original owners never knew. It is difficult to buy old-time woodwork
anywhere, whether one is searching out Chippendale chairs in Yorkshire,
_panétiers_ in Provence, or _moucharabias_ in the Mitidja; but the Arab
curio dealer can give the Christian or Hebrew antique dealer of other
lands a good fair start and then beat him as to the profits he can draw
from the inexperienced tourist collector. One thing you may be sure of,
Arab or Moorish antiques are seldom imitations, and though the "asking
price" of a _moucharabia_ may (at first) be excessive, and the "talking
points" of dubious value, the article in question is probably authentic,
and actually could not be duplicated by the workmen of to-day for a
similar price.
[Illustration]
The native dealer of Tunis or Algiers will ask two or three hundred
francs for a fine example of a _moucharabia_, all green and red and
gold, but he will probably take seventy-five if you will spend the day
with him arguing it out.
The little temples or shrines called _koubas_ scattered all over Algeria
are not unlike the pagan temples of the Greeks in their general
proportions. Literally the word in Arabic means a square house, though
indeed it was the patriarch Abraham who supposedly set the conventional
design upon which all others have since been built. Two workmen, one a
Greek and another a Copt, built the first _kouba_ at Mecca, and it was
out of this that the typical Arab mosque grew, as distinct from the
frequently more splendid mosques of the Byzants.
The Arabs had no religious art previous to their adoption of the faith
of Mahomet. The true Mussulman thinks that the form and style of the
mosque and all its dependencies was preconceived in the heavens, before
even the creation of man, and that that poor mortal was only formed in
the image of God when everything was ready and in place. With what
success man has made use of his opportunities each must judge for
himself.
The _mosque-marabout_ is often a monument which marks a holy place, the
tomb, for instance, of a celebrated marabout or holy man. That erected
at Algiers, above the remains of the Marabout Sidi-Brahim, famous
because of
[Illustration]
his defence of a French captain and his soldiers in the Algerian warfare
of 1845, is as admirable and worthy a sepulchral monument as one will
find in any land.
The religious architecture of Islam, as far as its symbolism is
concerned, is a thing that will never be understood by the Christian. A
mosque to most people is simply a public monument, a thing of domes and
minarets and many columns. The winter bird of passage at Cairo thinks it
a great inconvenience that he should be made to put on a pair of
_babouches_ over his shoes in order to enter, forgetting that it is a
Holy Place and that one of the tenets of the Mussulman religion forbids
walking rough-shod over the rugs and carpets of a place of worship. In
Algeria the practice is similar, except that the "infidel" simply
removes his shoes and enters stocking-footed. In Tunisia, with the
exception of the mosques at Kairouan, none but the Mussulman may pass
their thresholds.
The fine Moorish architecture which radiated from Granada in the golden
days of its best epoch has in our day sadly degenerated. The primitive
Arab of Africa intermingled with the Moors and absorbed to a certain
degree the pure fundamental principles of Moorish architecture. The
town-dwelling Arab built his mosques and his houses, during the last two
centuries, less luxuriously perhaps than his predecessors (and often
with the aid of Italian workmen), but he did not debase the Moorish
formulæ. What he kept of constructive elements was pure, the debasement
has only come in later years with the additions and reconstructions
incident to keeping pace with the times. This is where the Arab
architect beats the European at the same game.
The religious edifices of Islam, whether the simple _kouba_ of a saint,
or the elaborate mosque of the city, possess always a certain infallible
form. The fundamental principles are the same, whether one takes an
example from the Holy Land, or from one within sight of Gibraltar.
In Arabia, in Syria, Egypt, Tunisia and Algeria this Arab expression of
the architecture of the Moors predominates, but in Persia, Turkestan and
in the Ottoman Empire there is a certain specious Byzantine cachet,
which, if not actually a debasement, is a qualifying note which
differentiates the two varieties. The Arab variety has always been,
however, the pattern-mould from which has sprung forth the Islamic
religious architecture of to-day.
Before the birth of Islamism, Arabia, properly called, had no great
artistic monuments. The first mosque of magnificent proportions was
erected in the year 20 of the Hegira (642 A.D.) under the Khalifat of
Omar--this was the mosque of Hmrou at Cairo.
On this model many others were afterwards constructed, with variations
of little importance. These comprise for the most part the mosques of
the Arabian peninsula, of Egypt, of Africa, and of Andalusia. The most
famous of this class are those at Mecca and Medina; that of Iba Touloum
at Cairo; that of Djama Ez-Zitouna at Tunis; those at Mahdia and Gafsa;
of Okba Ibm Maffî at Kairouan; and El Mansourah at Tlemcen. Besides
these most of the mosques of Morocco are in the same style, as is also
the grand mosque of Cordova in Spain.
Omar's great mosque at Jerusalem was built at the inspiration of that
Kalif. He said to the Patriarch of Jerusalem after one of the periodical
religious quarrels of the time: "Show me a place, then, where I may
build a mosque, where Mussulmans may henceforth assemble for their
prayers without coming into contact with those of the Christian cult."
Then finally grew up the mosque of Omar, the Khalif himself working
with the common labourers. Thus came into being the mosque commonly
reputed to be the most beautiful in existence to-day.
We know that the minarets of the mosques were primarily instituted that
the _muezzins_ might make their call to prayer in full view and hearing
of the faithful. It is to the honour of the Khalif el-Walid that the
first of these svelt, sky-piercing towers was raised, and its name
derived from the Arab _menora_.
The minaret plays a preponderant role in all Arab art, and is the
distinguishing characteristic between Arab and Moorish architecture. In
the Moghreb (that is the Barbary States and Spain, bordering on the
western Mediterranean) the form of the minaret is nearly always
quadrangular, and the tiny terrace or platform high above supports,
invariably, a smaller pavilion whose roof is usually composed of four
sloping sides which, in turn, is surmounted by the conventional three
balls and crescent of copper, silver or even gold. The four sides
forming the base of this square tower are sometimes of carved stone, or
faïence, or of rough-hewn stone covered with plaster, which is
afterwards carved or gilded.
Amongst the most beautiful of these minarets of the Moghreb there is an
exquisite delicacy of design, a remarkable warmth of colour and an
elegant, piquant suggestion of daintiness as they rise up into the
unalterable azure of the African skies. Of this class are those of
Ez-Zitouna and the Kasba at Tunis; of Sidi-bou-Medine and Mansourah at
Tlemcen; those at Tangier and Fez; and of course that of the Giralda at
Seville. The Giralda is assuredly one of the most beautiful types of
Arabic-Andalusian architecture, and was built in the twelfth century
during the reign of the Sultan Yacoub-el-Nansourd.
In Egypt, quaint and mysterious as the roof-tops and minarets are to the
untrained eye, they possess no systematic regularity of form or feature.
They are of all dimensions and proportions. The gamut runs from the
square to the hexagon, to the octagon, and to the circle even, with
always numerous openings too small to be called windows, and above all a
plethora of finely chiselled stone.
This résumé outlines the brilliant art of the builder of the Arab
mosque, beginning with the twelfth century in Spain, the thirteenth in
the Moghreb, and finally the thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth in
Egypt and Syria.
Beyond the pale of these perfect types are the Perso-Byzantine varieties
of the Ottoman Empire; and still farther east, types which are quite
beyond the scope of these pages.