THE first century of the Hejira forms a chapter in the history of

mankind as startling from the brilliancy of its events as it is

astonishing from the permanence of its results. Whether we consider the

first outburst of Mahomedanism as a conquest of one of the most

extensive empires of the world by a small and previously unknown people,

or as the propagation of a new religion, or as both these events

combined, the success of the movement is without a parallel in history.

It far surpassed the careers of the great Eastern conquerors in the

importance of its effects, and the growth of the Roman Empire in

brilliance and rapidity. From Alexander to Napoleon, conquests have

generally been the result of the genius of some gifted individual, and

have left, after a short period, but slight traces of their transient

splendour. Even Rome’s conquest of the world was a slow and painful

effort compared with that of the Arabians; and though she imposed her

laws on the conquered nations, and enforced them by her military

organization, she had neither the desire nor the power to teach them a

new faith; nor could she bind the various nations together into one

great people, who should aid her with heart and hand in the mission she

had undertaken.

It was, indeed, hardly possible that a poor and simple, but warlike and

independent, people like the Arabs, could long exist close to the ruins

of so wealthy and so overgrown an empire as that of Constantinople,

without making an attempt to appropriate the spoil which the effeminate

hands of its possessors were evidently unable to defend. It was equally

impossible that so great a supervision of Christianity as then prevailed

in Egypt and Syria could exist in a country which from the earliest ages

had been the seat of the most earnest Monotheism without provoking some

attempt to return to the simpler faith which had never been wholly

superseded. So that on the whole the extraordinary success of

Mahomedanism at its first outset must be attributed to the utter

corruption, religious and political, of the expiring empire of the East,

as much as to any inherent greatness in the system itself or the ability

of the leaders who achieved the great work.

Had it been a mere conquest, it must have crumbled to pieces as soon as

completed; for Arabia was too thinly populated to send forth armies to

fight continual battles, and maintain so widely extended an empire. Its

permanence was owing to the fact that the converted nations joined the

cause with almost the enthusiasm of its original promoters; Syria,

Persia, and Africa, in turn, sent forth their swarms to swell the tide

of conquest and to spread the religion of Islam to the remotest corners

of the globe.

To understand either Mahomedan history or art it is essential to bear

this constantly in mind, and not to assume that, because the first

impulse was given from Arabia, everything afterwards must be traced back

to that primitive people: on the contrary, there was no great

depopulation, if any, of the conquered countries, no great

transplantation of races. Each country retained its own inhabitants,

who, under a new form, followed their old habits and clung to their old

feelings with all the unchangeableness of the East, and perhaps with

even less outward change than is usually supposed. Before the time of

Mahomet the Sabean worship of the stars was common to Arabia and Persia,

and a great part of the Babylonian Empire. The Jewish religion was

diffused through Syria and parts of Arabia. Egypt, long before the time

of Mahomet, must have been to a great extent Arabian, as it now wholly

is. In all these countries the religion of Mahomet struck an ancient

chord that still vibrated among the people, and it must have appeared

more as a revival of the past than as the preaching of a new faith. In

Spain alone colonization to some extent seems to have taken place, but

we must not even there overlook the fact of the early Carthaginian

settlements, and the consequent existence of a Semitic people of

considerable importance in the south, where the new religion maintained

itself long after its extinction in those parts of Spain where no

Semitic blood is known to have existed.

So weak, indeed, in the converted countries was the mere Arabian

influence, that each province soon shook off its yoke, and, under their

own Caliphs, Persia, Syria, Egypt, Africa, and Spain soon became

independent States, yielding only a nominal fealty to that Caliph who

claimed to be the rightful successor of the Prophet, and, except in

faith and the form of religion, the real and essential change was

slight, and far greater in externals than in the innate realities of

life.

All this is more evident from the architecture than from any other

department—without, at least, more study than most people can devote to

the subject. The Arabs themselves had no architecture, properly so

called. Their only temple was the Kaabah at Mecca, a small square tower,

almost destitute of architectural ornament, and more famous for its

antiquity and sanctity than for any artistic merit.

It is said that Mahomet built a mosque at Medina—a simple edifice of

bricks and palm-sticks.[457] But the Koran gives no directions on the

subject, and so simple were the primitive habits of the nomad Arabs,

that had the religion been confined to its native land, it is probable

that no mosque worthy of the name would ever have been erected. With

them prayer everywhere and anywhere was equally acceptable. All that was

required of the faithful was to turn towards Mecca at stated times and

pray, going through certain forms and in certain attitudes, but whether

the place was the desert or the housetop was quite immaterial.

For the first half century after the Mahomedans burst into Syria they

seem to have built very little. The taste for architectural magnificence

had not yet taken hold of the simple followers of the Prophet, and

desecrated churches and other buildings supplied what wants they had.

When they did take to building, about the end of the 7th century, they

employed the native architects and builders, and easily converted the

Christian church with its atrium into a place of prayer; and, then, by a

natural growth of style, they gradually elaborated a new style of

details and new arrangements, in which it is often difficult to trace

the source whence they were derived.

In Egypt the wealth of ancient remains, in particular of Roman pillars,

rendered the task easy; and mosques were enclosed and palaces designed

and built with less thought and less trouble than had occurred almost

anywhere else. The same happened in Barbary and in Spain. In the latter

country, especially, a re-arrangement of Roman materials was all that

was required. It was only when these were exhausted, after some

centuries of toil, that we find the style becoming original; but its

form was not that of Syria or of Egypt, but of Spanish birth and

confined to that locality.

When the Turks conquered Asia Minor, their style was that of the

Byzantine basilicas which they found there, and when they entered

Constantinople they did not even care to carry a style with which they

were familiar across the Bosphorus, but framed their mosques upon a type

of church peculiar to that city, of which Sta. Sophia was the crowning

example.

It is true that, after centuries of practice most of these heterogeneous

elements became fused into a complete style. This style possesses so

much that is entirely its own as to make it sometimes difficult to

detect the germs, taken from the older styles of architecture, which

gave rise to many of its most striking peculiarities. These, however,

are never entirely obliterated. Everywhere the conviction is forced upon

us that originally the Moslems had no style of their own, but adopted

those which they found practised in the countries to which they came. In

other words, the conquered or associated people still continued to build

as they had built before their conversion, merely adapting their former

methods to the purposes of their new religion. After a time this

Mahomedan element thus introduced into the styles of different countries

produced a certain amount of uniformity,—increased, no doubt, by the

intercommunications arising from the uniformity of religion. In this way

at last a style was elaborated, tolerably homogeneous, though never

losing entirely the local peculiarities due to the earlier styles out of

which it rose, and which still continue to mark most distinctly the

various nationalities that made up the great Empire of Islam.

CHAPTER II.

SYRIA AND EGYPT.

CONTENTS.

Mosques at Jerusalem—El-Aksah—Mosque at Damascus—Egypt—Mosques at Cairo—

Other African buildings—Mecca.

CHRONOLOGY.

DATES.

The Hejira A.D. 622

Caliph Omar builds Mosque at Jerusalem 637

Amru—Mosque at Old Cairo 642

Abd el-Malek builds El-Aksah at Jerusalem and the “Dome of

the Rock” 691

Caliph Walid builds Mosque at Damascus 705

Ibn Tooloon at Cairo 879

Kaloun 1284

Sultan Hassan 1356

Sultan Berkook 1386

Kait-bey 1490

AS before mentioned, the earliest mosque of which we have any record was

that built by Mahomet himself at Medina. As, however, it contained

apartments for his wives, and other rooms for domestic purposes, it

might perhaps be more properly denominated a dwelling house than a

mosque. Indeed sacred buildings, as we understand them, seem to have

formed no part of the scheme of the Mahomedan dispensation. The one

temple of this religion was the Kaabah at Mecca, towards which all

believers were instructed to turn when they prayed. As with the ancient

Jews—one Temple and one God were the watchwords of the faith.

When, however, the Mahomedans came among the temple-building nations,

they seem early to have felt the necessity of some material object—some

visible monument of their religion; and we find that Omar, when he

obtained possession of Jerusalem, in the 15th year of the Hejira, felt

the necessity of building a place of prayer towards which the faithful

might turn, or rather which should point out to them the direction of

Mecca.

According to the treaty of capitulation, in virtue of which the city was

ceded to the Moslems, it was agreed that the Christians should retain

possession of all their churches and holy places; and no complaint is

made of even the slightest attempt to infringe this article during the

following three centuries. On the other hand, it was stipulated that a

spot of ground should be ceded to Omar, in which he might establish a

place of prayer. For this purpose the site of the old Temple of the Jews

was assigned to him by the patriarch; that spot being considered sacred

by the Moslems, on account of the nocturnal visit of the Prophet, and

because they then wished to conciliate the Jews, while at the same time

the spot was held accursed by the Christians on account of the Lord’s

denunciation and Julian’s impious attempt to rebuild it. Here Omar built

a mosque, which is described by an early pilgrim who saw it, as a simple

square building of timber capable of holding three thousand people, and

constructed on the ruins of some more ancient edifice.[458]

[Illustration: 970. Plan of the Mosque el-Aksah at Jerusalem. Scale 100

ft. to 1 in.]

The troubles which, during the next half-century, succeeded the murder

of Ali and his sons, seem to have been unfavourable to building or any

of the arts of peace, and no record has yet been brought to light of any

important structure erected during that period. In the 69th year of the

Hejira, Abd el-Melik, the Caliph of Damascus, determined to erect a

mosque at Jerusalem. His objects were to set up that city as a place of

pilgrimage in opposition to Mecca, which was then in the possession of a

rival, and to carry into effect what was at one time understood to have

been the intention of Mahomet, namely, to convert the temple of

Jerusalem into the holy place of his new religion, instead of that of

Mecca. These ulterior purposes were never realised, in consequence of

the violent opposition which the project met with from the Jews.

[Illustration: 971. View in the Mosque el-Aksah at Jerusalem.]

The mosque which Abd el-Melik erected was, according to Professor

Lewis,[459] partially destroyed by earthquakes in the years 748, 755 and

770 A.D., and was rebuilt by El Mahdi in 771-781 A.D., with increased

lateral dimensions but diminished in length. From the description given

by Mukaddasi,[460] the building, thus restored, covered a very much

larger area than the existing mosque, there being as many as seven

aisles on each side of the central aisle. Professor Lewis, in the work

above quoted, gives a suggested restoration of the plan, which in the

first place resembles very closely the prayer chambers of the typical

Mahomedan mosques at Amru in Old Cairo, Kerouan in Barbary, and Cordoba

in Spain; and in the general plan coincides so nearly in the position of

its piers and columns with the existing building, so far as it extends,

as to give a reasonable probability to his suggestion. When Jerusalem

was taken by the Crusaders, the Aksah was converted by them into a

palace, and some of their work is still to be seen in the arcades at the

north end. After the conquest of Saladin he carried out extensive

restorations; he covered the Mihrab, which had been walled off by the

Crusaders, and decorated it with marble: he erected the magnificent

pulpit which had been sent from Aleppo, and rebuilt the transept with

its dome as we now see it.

As the Aksah exists at present it has the appearance of an ordinary

basilica with nave and aisles, to which double aisles have been added on

each side. This would suggest that the three central aisles of the

mosque were raised above the rest of the building in order to obtain

increased light through clerestory windows both in central and side

aisles. This, however, may have been done by El Mahdi, who also built

the transept and dome, because they are mentioned by Mukaddasi (985

A.D.), who says “the centre part of the main building is covered by a

mighty roof, high pitched and gable-wise, behind which rises a

magnificent dome.” The mosque (Woodcut No. 971) is 187 ft. wide and 272

ft. in length over all, thus covering about 50,000 sq. ft., or as much

as many of our cathedrals. It has a porch, which is a later addition,

but has not the usual square court in front, possibly because it was

already within the enclosure of the sacred area. “The interior is

supported,” says an Arab historian,[461] “by 45 columns, 33 of which are

of marble, and 12 of common stone, besides which there are 40 piers of

common stone.” Later investigation has shown that the main piers of the

church are built with materials taken from some earlier edifice: the

circular piers of the nave, for instance, are of a reddish marble from

quarries near Jerusalem, patched up and bound together with iron rings,

the whole being plastered over, painted and polished in imitation of

marble, and Professor Lewis suggests that they may have been taken from

Justinian’s Church of St. Mary (described by Procopius), which was burnt

and thrown down by Chosroes in 614 A.D.

Although extremely picturesque, as an architectural object the Aksah is

of no great importance, the only portions which can lay any claim to

beauty being the arches carried on basket-capitals, which were erected

by the Crusaders, and the later decorations of Saladin and other Sultans

who enriched the south portion of the mosque near the Mihret: it must

also be added that it suffers very considerably from its juxtaposition

with the Dome of the Rock, which, though constructed by the same Abd

el-Melik who founded the Aksah, has been added to and decorated in so

sumptuous a manner by succeeding khalifs as to render it one of the most

beautiful buildings in the world.

The first drawings which were made of the Dome of the Rock

(Cubbet-es-Sakra, more generally known as the Mosque of Omar) by Messrs.

Arundale and Catherwood (probably under great difficulties, for the

sacred enclosure was not then thrown open to the gaze of unbelievers),

represented the work as one of uniform design. The more careful

examination which has been made in later years has revealed that the

columns, capitals and bases of the main structure were taken from some

earlier buildings and adapted in the best way; a high base making amends

for a small capital, and new ones only being made when it became

necessary. On this point Major Condor says,[462] “only three of the

capitals under the drum are alike; the rest differ in size, in outline,

and in details. One of the capitals is evidently placed on a shaft which

did not originally belong to it, but which required a large capital. The

sixteen capitals in the screen are more uniform:” “two of those capitals

are, however, of entirely different design, and their shafts longer than

the others.” “The original bases are now covered with marble flagging;”

“but this was removed in 1874, and it was then found that they differed

in outline and height, viz. from 4 to as much as 17 inches.”

[Illustration: 972. Plan of the Dome of the Rock (Mosque of Omar)

Jerusalem.]

The plan (Woodcut No. 972), consists of a central hall over the Sakhra,

or sacred rock, with double aisles round. The hall is divided from the

first aisle by 4 piers, with 3 columns between each; these 16 supports

carry 3-centred arches (virtually pointed arches, whose centres are

distant from one another by about one-fourth of the span, with the point

of the arch rounded off) with wooden tie-beams. Above these arches rises

a lofty cylindrical drum, the upper portion of which is pierced with 16

clerestory windows; the whole covered by a wooden dome, richly carved,

painted and gilded. The screen which divides the first aisle from the

surrounding one is octagonal, with piers at each angle, and two columns

between each; these columns are surmounted by capitals, dosserets, and

carry wood beams encased in rich architrave framing, and circular arches

above with a frieze decorated with an inscription above, now partially

hidden by later restorations. The outer wall is also octagonal, with

four doorways facing the cardinal points, and a parapet, the pent roof

over both aisles being continuous.

[Illustration: 973. View in Aisle of Dome of Rock. (From a Drawing by

Catherwood.)]

[Illustration: 974. Capital in Dome of Rock. (From De Vogüé.)]

The history of the structure has been carefully worked out by Professor

Lewis, taken from various ancient authors, compiled in part by Messrs.

Besant and Palmer, from which it would seem that Abd-el-Melik, having

first built a small dome known as the Cubbet-es-Silsileh (Dome of the

Chain) (A, Woodcut No. 972), for a treasury, was so pleased with the

work that he ordered the great dome over the Sakhra to be built on the

same model. The structure thus erected (shown in black on the plan,

Woodcut No. 972), was executed by skilled workmen from Persia,

Byzantium, and India. It was hung round with curtains of brocade,

probably protected by eaves as in the Cubbet-es-Silsileh. Owing possibly

to the inclemency of the weather, the Khalif el-Mamun (813-33) enclosed

the whole with the octagonal wall, and made various alterations,

including the erasure of Abd-el-Melik’s name in the frieze before

alluded to, and the insertion of his own, the date being untouched. To

this period (9th century) may also be attributed the mosaic decorations

of the drum, though a later date is by some ascribed to them. The dome

was rebuilt by Saladin, 1189, and although restored, is substantially

the same as erected by him. In the 16th century the whole building was

restored by Solyman the Magnificent, who encased the piers of the

interior and the arches covered by them with marble, filled the

clerestory windows with stained glass, and encased with marble and

Persian tiles the external walls.

Notwithstanding the various additions and restorations which have thus

therefore been made from time to time, the whole structure retains at

first sight one uniform character in its design, and it is only on a

careful analysis of its several parts that it is possible to distinguish

the dates of the various changes. The effect which is produced by the

whole is quite unrivalled by any other known building of its class. It

has not, of course, the splendour and magnificence arising from the

vastness and constructive beauty of such a church as Sta. Sophia at

Constantinople, but for its dimension, there is probably no building in

the world the design of which is at the same time so beautiful and so

appropriate for the purposes for which it was erected.

[Illustration: 975. Order of the Dome of the Rock. (From a Drawing by

Arundale.)]

MOSQUE AT DAMASCUS.

As an architectural object the great mosque at Damascus is even more

important than the Aksah, and its history is as interesting. The spot on

which it stands was originally occupied by one of those small Syrian

temples, surrounded by a square _temenos_, of which those at Palmyra and

Jerusalem are well-known examples.[463] The one in question was,

however, smaller, having been apparently only 450 ft. square; and we do

not know the form of the temple which occupied its centre.[464] This

temple was converted into a Christian church by Theodosius (395-408),

and dedicated to St. John the Baptist, whose chapel still exists within

the precincts of the mosque.

[Illustration: 976. Plan of Mosque at Damascus. By Sir Charles Wilson.

Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]

According to Jelal ed-Deen,[465] the church remained the joint property

of the Christians and Moslems, both praying together in it—or, at least,

on the east and west sides of a partition run through it—from the fall

of the city in the year of the Hejira 14 (A.D. 636) to the time of the

Caliph Walid in the year 86. He offered the Christians either four

desecrated churches in exchange for it, or threatened to deprive them of

one which they held on sufferance. As soon as the matter was settled, it

is said, he pulled down the Christian church, or at least part of it,

and in ten years completed the present splendid mosque on its site,

having first procured from the emperor at Constantinople fit and proper

persons to act as architects and masons in its construction.

If the building were carefully examined by some competent person, it

might even now be possible to ascertain what parts belonged to the

Heathen, what to the Christians, and what to the Moslems. At first sight

it might appear that the covered part of the mosque is only the

Christian church, used laterally like that at Ramleh; but its

dimensions—126 ft. by 446—are so much in excess of any three-aisled

church of that age, that the idea is hardly tenable. On the whole, it

seems probable that we must consider that the materials which had first

been collected for the Temple, and were afterwards used in the church,

were entirely rearranged by the Mahomedans in the form in which we now

find them.

Like all buildings in the first century of the Hejira, it was so badly

done that nearly all the pillars of the court have since that time been

encased in piers of masonry. The walls have been covered up with

plaster, and whitewash has obliterated the decoration which once

existed, and which is still visible where the plaster has peeled off. It

is still, however, interesting from its history, venerable from its age,

and important from its dimensions. These are, externally, 508 ft. by

320, and the enclosed court 400 ft. by 106. So that, in so far as size

is concerned, it may rank among the first of its class; and it has

always been considered so sacred, that repairs and additions have

constantly been made to it since its erection, more than eleven

centuries ago; but, as in the case of its contemporary the Aksah at

Jerusalem, the result is far from satisfactory. In this respect, these

two buildings form, as just mentioned, a most singular contrast with the

Dome of the Rock at Jerusalem (Woodcuts Nos. 973 to 975). That is

perfect—solemn and solid, and one of the most impressive buildings in

the world, both externally and internally; while the other erections of

the Moslems are rickety, in spite of all repairs, and produce no

impression of greatness notwithstanding their dimensions and antiquity.

The additions made by the Moslems to the mosque at Hebron (Woodcut No.

542) are mean and insignificant to the last degree; and beyond these, it

is difficult to say what there is in Syria built by them that is worthy

of attention.

There are some handsome fountains at Jerusalem, some details at

Hasbeiya, a few large khans at Beisan and elsewhere, and some very fine

city gates and remnants of military architecture; but the tombs are

insignificant, and except the two mosques described, there seems to be

no example of monumental architecture of any importance. The one

building epoch of the country occurred when the Roman influence was at

its height, during the first five centuries of the Christian era. Since

that time very little has been done, except by the Crusaders, worthy of

record; and before it nothing, that, from an architectural point of

view, would deserve a place in history.

EGYPT.

In Egypt our history begins with the mosque which Amru, in the 21st year

of the Hejira (A.D. 642) erected at Old Cairo; its original dimensions

were only 50 cubits, or 75 ft. long, by 30 cubits, or 45 ft. wide.

Edrisi[466] says that it was originally a Christian church which the

Moslems converted into a mosque; and its dimensions and form would

certainly lead us to suppose that, if not so, it was at least built

after the pattern of the Christian churches of that age. As early,

however, as the 53rd year of the Hejira it was enlarged, and again in

the 79th; and it apparently was almost wholly rebuilt by the two great

builders of that age, Abd-el-Melik and Walid, the builders of the

mosques of Jerusalem and Damascus.

It probably now remains in all essential parts as left by these two

Caliphs, though frequently repaired, and in some parts probably altered

by subsequent sovereigns of Egypt. In its present state it may be

considered as a fair specimen of the form which mosques took when they

had quite emancipated themselves from the Christian models, or rather

when the court before the narthex of the Christian church had absorbed

the basilica, so as to become itself the principal part of the building,

the church part being spread out into a prayer chamber (Mihrab) and its

three apses modified into niches pointing towards the sacred Mecca.

As will be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 977), it is nearly square

(390 ft. by 357), and consists of a court-yard, 255 ft. square,

surrounded on all sides by arcades supported by 245 columns taken from

older edifices of the Romans and Byzantines.[467] These columns carried

brick arches,[468] tied at their springing by wooden beams, as in the

Aksah. All this part of the mosque, however, has been so often repaired

and renovated, that but little of the original details can now remain.

[Illustration: 977. Mosque of Amru, Old Cairo. (From Coste’s

‘Architecture Arabe.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]

Of the original mosque, the only part that can with certainty be said to

exist is a portion of the outer wall, represented in Woodcut No. 960,

which possesses the peculiarity of being built with pointed arches,

similar in form to those of the Aksah at Jerusalem. They are now built

up, and must have been so at the time of one of the earlier alterations;

still they are, from their undoubted antiquity, a curious contribution

to the much-contested history of the pointed arch. Notwithstanding the

beautiful climate of Egypt, the whole mosque is now in a sad state of

degradation and decay, arising principally from its original faulty

construction. Owing to the paucity of details, many of M. Coste’s

restorations must be taken as extremely doubtful.

From the time of the great rebuilding of the mosque of Amru under Walid,

there is a gap in the architectural history of Egypt of nearly a century

and a half, during which time it is probable that no really great work

was undertaken there, as Egypt was then a dependent province of the

great Caliphat of the East. With the recovery, however, of something

like independence, we find one of its most powerful rulers, Ibn Tooloon,

commencing a mosque at Cairo (A.D. 876), which, owing to its superior

style of construction, still remained in tolerable perfection till about

1860.[469]

Tradition, as usual, ascribes the design to a Christian architect, who,

when the Emir declined to use the columns of desecrated churches for the

proposed mosque, offered to build it entirely of original materials. He

was at first thrown into prison through the machinations of his rivals;

but at last, when they found they could not dispense with his services,

was again sent for, and his design carried out.[470]

Be this as it may, the whole style of the mosque shows an immense

advance on that of its predecessor, all trace of Roman or Byzantine art

having disappeared in the interval, and the Saracenic architecture

appearing complete in all its details, the parts originally borrowed

from previous styles having been worked up and fused into a

consentaneous whole.

[Illustration: 978. Arches in the Mosque of Amru. (From G. de Prangey’s

Work.)]

[Illustration: 979. Mosque of Ibn Tooloon at Cairo. (From Coste’s

‘Architecture Arabe.’)]

The architect is said to have been a Copt, and if so this would explain

the development of style, Mr. Butler’s work on the Coptic churches of

Egypt,[471] proving clearly that, long previous to the buildings of

Tooloon, a style had been developed by the Copts with ornaments of a

geometrical character similar to that which is found in Tooloon.[472]

From this time we find no backsliding; the style in Egypt at last takes

its rank as a separate and complete architectural form. It is true, that

in so rich a storehouse of materials as Egypt, the architects could not

always resist appropriating the remains of earlier buildings; but when

they did this, they used them so completely in their own fashion, and so

worked them into their own style, that we do not at once recognise the

sources from which they are derived.

To return, however, to the mosque of Tooloon. Its general arrangement is

almost identical with that of the mosque of Amru, only with somewhat

increased dimensions, the court being very nearly 300 ft. square, and

the whole building 390 ft. by 455. No pillars whatever are used in its

construction, except as engaged corner shafts; all the arches, which are

invariably pointed, being supported by massive piers. The court on three

sides has two ranges of arcades, but on the side towards Mecca there are

five; and with this peculiarity, that instead of the arcades running at

right angles to the Mecca wall (as in the mosques of Amru and Kerouan)

they run parallel to it. This may be accounted for by the great solidity

of the walls carried by these arches, and the fact that the thrust of

the latter could not have been counteracted by the wooden ties which

suffice in the two examples above mentioned. By running the arcade the

other way, the arches served as abutments one to the other, carrying the

thrust to the outer walls, which are of great thickness. The same

principle is observed on the other three sides, which in each case lie

parallel to the external wall.

The whole building is of brick, covered with stucco; and fortunately

almost every opening is surrounded by an inscription in the old form of

Cufic characters, which were then used, and only used, about the period

to which the mosque is ascribed, so that there can be no doubt as to its

date. Indeed, the age both of the building itself and of all its

details, is well ascertained.

The Woodcut No. 979 will explain the form of its arcades, and of the

ornaments that cover them. Their general character is that of bold and

massive simplicity, the counterpart of our own Norman style. A certain

element of sublimity and power, in spite of occasional clumsiness, is

common to both these styles. Indeed, excepting the Mosque of Sultan

Hassan, there is perhaps no mosque in Cairo so imposing and so perfect

as this, though it possesses little or nothing of that grace and

elegance which we are accustomed to expect in this style.

[Illustration: 980. Window in Mosque of Ibn Tooloon.]

Among the more remarkable peculiarities of this building is the mode in

which all the external openings are filled with that peculiar sort of

tracery which became as characteristic of this style as that of the

windows of our churches five centuries afterwards is of the Gothic

style. With the Saracens the whole window is filled, and the interstices

are small and varied; both which characteristics are appropriate when

the window is not to be looked out of, or when it is filled with painted

glass; but of course are utterly unsuitable to our purposes. Yet it is

doubtful, even now, whether the Saracenic did not excel the Gothic

architects, even in their best days, in the elegance of design and

variety of invention displayed in the tracery of their windows. In the

mosque of Ibn Tooloon it is used as an old and perfected invention, and

with the germs of all those angular and flowing lines which afterwards

were combined into such myriad forms of beauty.

It is possible that future researches may bring to light a building, 50

or even 100 years earlier than this, which may show nearly as complete

an emancipation from Christian art; but for the present, it is from the

mosque of Tooloon (A.D. 885) that we must date the complete foundation

of the new style. Although there is considerable difficulty in tracing

the history of the style from the erection of the mosques of Damascus

and Jerusalem to that of Tooloon, there is none from that time onwards.

Cairo alone furnishes nearly sufficient materials for the purpose.

The next great mosque erected in this city was El-Azhar, or “the

splendid” built in the year A.D. 981 by the Arabs of Kerouan on the type

of their own mosque. This has been rebuilt in later times, but according

to Mr. Carpenter[473] it preserves the proportions of its original plan.

It is said to have been converted into a university in 1199, but was

overthrown by an earthquake in 1303, and subsequently entirely rebuilt

and restored by various sultans.

The Mosque of Al Hákim was built in the beginning of the 11th century.

Portions of the arcades still remain, which show it to have been of the

same type as Tooloon, with pointed and slightly horseshoe arches, and

engaged angle shafts, which in Tooloon are probably the earliest

examples of that feature extant. In the place of the minarets are two

Mabkárehs or square tombs with small minarets on the top.

The buildings during the next two centuries are neither numerous nor

remarkable in size, though progress is very evident in such examples as

exist, and towards the commencement of the 13th century we find the

style almost entirely changed. The Mosque of El-Dhahir (1268), now used

as a fort, is remarkable for the ornament around the arches of two of

its porches, which would prove it to be of Norman origin. It consists of

a chevron or zigzag in one case, and of moulded mullions in the other,

similar to those found in the porch of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem,

attributed to the Crusaders, and in the tower of the Martorana at

Palermo.

The mosque of Kalaoon and the hospital attached to it (A.D. 1287) are

both noble buildings, full of the most elegant details, and not without

considerable grandeur in parts. In all except detail, however, they must

yield the palm to the next great example, the mosque with which the

Sultan Hassan adorned Cairo in the year 1356. In some respects it is one

of the most remarkable mosques ever erected in any country, and

differing considerably from any other with which we are at present

acquainted.

As will be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 981), its external form is

very irregular, following on all sides the lines of the streets within

which it is situated. This irregularity, however, is not such as to

detract from its appearance, which is singularly bold and massive on

every side; the walls being nearly 100 ft. in height, and surmounted by

a cornice, which adds another 13 ft., and projects about 6 ft. This

great height is divided into no less than nine storeys of small

apartments; but the openings are so deeply recessed, and the projections

between them so bold, that, instead of cutting it up and making it look

like a factory, which would have been the case in England, the building

has all the apparent solidity of a fortress, and seems more worthy of

the descendants of the ancient Pharaohs than any work of modern times in

Egypt.

[Illustration: 981. Mosque of Sultan Hassan. (From Coste’s ‘Architecture

Arabe.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]

Internally there is a court open to the sky, measuring 117 ft. by 105,

enclosed by a wall 112 ft. in height. Instead of the usual colonnades or

arcades, only one gigantic niche opens in each face of the court. On

three sides these niches measure 46 ft. square; but on that which faces

Mecca, the great niche is 69 ft. wide by 90 in depth, and 90 ft. high

internally. All four are covered with simple tunnel-vaults of a pointed

form, without either ribs or intersections, and for simple grandeur are

unrivalled by any similar arches known to exist anywhere.

Behind the niche pointing towards Mecca is the tomb of the founder,

square in plan, as these buildings almost always are, measuring 69 ft.

each way, and covered by a lofty and elegant dome resting on pendentives

of great beauty and richness. It is flanked on each side by two noble

minarets, one of which is the highest and largest in Cairo and probably

in any part of the world, being 280 ft. in height and of proportionate

breadth. Its design and outline, however, are scarcely so elegant as

some others, though even in these respects it must be considered a very

beautiful example of its class.

[Illustration: 982. Section of Mosque of Hassan, Cairo. Scale 100 ft. to

1 in.]

One of the principal defects of this building is the position of its

doorway, which, instead of facing the _kibleh_ or niche pointing towards

Mecca, is placed diagonally, in the street alongside of the building. It

is a very beautiful specimen of architecture in itself; still its

situation and the narrow passages that led from it to the main building

detract most materially from the effect of the whole edifice, which in

other respects is so perfect. It may have been that ground could not be

obtained for the purpose of placing the entrance in the right position;

but more probably it was so arranged for the sake of defence, the whole

structure having very much the appearance of a fortalice, and being

without doubt erected to serve that purpose, as well as being adapted

for a house of prayer.

One of the finest buildings of the 14th century is that built by Sultan

Berkook outside the walls of Cairo (A.D. 1384), which, besides a mosque,

contains an additional feature in the great sepulchral chambers which

are in fact the principal part of the edifice, and betray the existence

of a strong affinity to the tomb-building races in the rulers of Egypt

at that time.

[Illustration: 983. Plan of Mosque and Tombs of Sultan Berkook. (From

Coste.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]

The plan and section (Woodcuts Nos. 983, 984), though small, will show

the state to which the art had at that period arrived in Egypt. The

pointed arch, as will be observed, is used with as much lightness and

elegance as ever it reached in the West.

[Illustration: 984. Section of Mosque of Berkook. (From Coste’s

‘Architecture Arabe.’)]

The dome has become a truly graceful and elaborate appendage, forming

not only a very perfect ceiling inside, but a most imposing ornament to

the exterior. Above all, the minaret has here arrived at as high a

degree of perfection as it ever reached in any after age.

The oldest known example of this species of tower is that of the mosque

of Ibn Tooloon, but it is particularly ungraceful and clumsy. The

minaret in that of Amru was probably a later addition. But it is only

here in Berkook that they seem to have acquired that elegance and

completeness which render them perhaps the most beautiful form of tower

architecture in the world. Our prejudices are of course with the spires

of our Gothic churches, and the Indians erected some noble towers; but

taken altogether, it is doubtful if anything of its class ever surpassed

the beauty and elegance of the minarets attached to the mosques during

this and subsequent centuries.

The mosque El Muayyad, erected in 1415 A.D., is a singularly elegant

specimen of a mosque with columns. Externally it measures about 300 ft.

by 250, and possesses an internal court, surrounded by double colonnades

on three sides, and a triple range of arches on the side looking towards

Mecca, where also are situated—as in that of Berkook—the tombs of the

founder and his family. A considerable number of ancient columns have

been used in the erection of the building, but the superstructure is so

light and elegant, that the effect is agreeable; and of the “mixed

mosques”—_i.e._, those where ancient materials are incorporated—this is

one of the most pleasing specimens.

Perhaps the most perfect gem in or about Cairo is the mosque and tomb of

Kaitbey (Woodcut No. 985), outside the walls, erected A.D. 1472. Looked

at externally or internally, nothing can exceed the grace of every part

of this building. Its small dimensions exclude it from any claim to

grandeur, nor does it pretend to the purity of the Greek and some other

styles; but as a perfect model of the elegance we generally associate

with the architecture of this people, it is perhaps unrivalled by

anything in Egypt, and far surpasses the Alhambra or the other Western

buildings of its age.

After this period there were not many important buildings erected in

Cairo, or indeed in Egypt; and when a new age of splendour appears, the

old art is found to have died out, and a renaissance far more injurious

than that of the West, has grown up in the interval. In modern Europe

the native architects wrought out the so-called restoration of art in

their own pedantic fashion; but in the Levant the corresponding process

took place under the auspices of a set of refugee Italian artists, who

engrafted their would-be classical notions on the Moorish style, with a

vulgarity of form and colour of which we have no conception. In the

later buildings of Mehemet Ali and his contemporaries we find the

richest and most beautiful materials used, so as to make us wonder how

men could so pervert every notion of beauty and propriety to the

production of such discordant ugliness.

[Illustration: 985. Mosque of Kaitbey. (From Coste’s Architecture

Arabe.)]

From its size and the beauty of the materials, the mosque erected by the

late Pasha in the citadel of Cairo ought to rival any of the more

ancient buildings in the city; but it is already falling to pieces, and

except for the fact that its main design is based on the principle of

the great mosques erected in imitation of Sta. Sophia at Constantinople,

which gives a certain grandeur to its interior, it would be utterly

uninteresting.[474]

MECCA.

In a history of the Mahomedan religion a description of the mosque at

Mecca would naturally take the first place; but in a work devoted to

architecture it is sufficient to mention it in connection with Egypt, to

whose sultans it owes whatever architectural adornment it possesses. The

Kaabah, or holy shrine itself, has no architecture, and is famous only

for its sanctity.

In the earlier centuries of the Hejira the area seems to have been

surrounded by a cloister of no great magnificence, but after a great

fire which occurred in 1399, the north and west sides were built in a

more splendid manner by Barkook, Sultan of Egypt, whose mosque and tomb

are illustrated, Woodcuts Nos. 983, 984. In 1500 El Ghoury, likewise an

Egyptian sultan of Memlook race, rebuilt the Bab Ibrahim. The next

repairs were due to the sultans of Constantinople. Selim I., in 1572,

rebuilt one side, and in 1576 Murad effected a general repair of the

whole, and left it pretty much as we now find it.

It need hardly be pointed out that in arrangement it necessarily differs

from all other mosques. The precept of the Koran was, that all true

believers when they prayed should turn to the Kaabah, and a mosque

consequently became a mere indicator of the direction in which Mecca

stood; but in this instance, with the Kaabah in the centre, no mihrab or

indication was possible. All that was required was a _temenos_ to

enclose the sacred object and exclude the outside world with its

business from the hallowed precincts.

The principal object in the enclosure is of course the Kaabah, a small,

low tower, nearly but not quite square in plan, the longer sides 39 and

40 ft. respectively; the shorter 31 and 33 ft.; its height is 36 ft. The

entrance is near one corner, at a height of 6 ft. from the ground. It is

wholly without architectural ornament, and the upper part is covered by

a black cloth, which is annually renewed. Next in importance to this is

the Zemzem, or holy spring, which is said to have gushed out on this

spot to the succour of Ishmael and his mother when perishing of thirst.

These two objects are joined by a railing surrounding the Kaabah, except

at one point, where it joins the Zemzem. The railing probably marks the

enclosure of the old Pagan temple before Mahomet’s time.

These, with some other subordinate buildings, now stand in a courtyard,

forming a perfect rectangle of about 380 ft. by 570 internally,

surrounded by arcades on all sides. These vary considerably in depth, so

as to accommodate themselves to the external outline of the building,

which, as shown in the Woodcut (No. 968), is very irregular. It is

entered on all sides by nineteen gateways, some of which are said to be

of considerable magnificence, and it is adorned by seven minarets. These

are placed very irregularly, and none of them are of particular beauty

or size.

On the longer sides of the court there are thirty-six arches, on the

shorter twenty-four, all slightly pointed. They are supported by columns

of greyish marble, every fourth being a square pier, the others circular

pillars.

[Illustration: 986. Great Mosque at Mecca. (From a Plan by Ali

Bey.[475])]

Neither its ordonnance, nor, so far as we can understand, its details,

render the temple an object of much architectural magnificence. Even in

size it is surpassed by many, and is less than its great rival, the

temple of Jerusalem, which was 600 ft. square. Still it is interesting,

as it is in reality the one temple of the Moslem world; for though many

mosques are now reputed sacred, and as such studiously guarded against

profanation, this pretended sanctity is evidently a prejudice borrowed

or inherited from other religions, and is no part of the doctrine of the

Moslem faith, which, like the Jewish, points to one only temple as the

place where the people should worship, and towards which they should

turn in prayer.

BARBARY.

[Illustration: 987. Plan of Great Mosque of Kerouan.]

There may be—no doubt are—many buildings erected by the Moslems in the

countries between Egypt and Spain; but, strange to say, with their love

of art, and opportunities for investigating them, the French have not

yet made us acquainted with their peculiarities. Even if not magnificent

in themselves, they must form a curious link between the styles of the

East and the West. The recent annexation of Tunis by France, however,

has enabled us at last to obtain plans and drawings of the great mosque

at Kerouan, so that we can trace, according to Mr. Carpenter (_see_

R.I.B.A. Transactions, 1882-83, from whence the particulars here given

are borrowed) the parentage of the Mosque of Cordoba and other work in

Spain which seemed, when this work was first written, to be cut off from

all connection with the East and to stand utterly alone.

[Illustration: 988. Main Entrance in Court of Great Mosque of Kerouan.]

The mosque of Kerouan was founded by the Emir Akhbah in 675 A.D., and

was rebuilt and extended in the succeeding three centuries. The plan of

the mosque (Woodcut 987) is somewhat irregular, being wider at the

south-eastern end by about thirty feet. It covers an area of a little

over 100,000 square ft. of which about one-third is covered over and

forms the prayer chamber. The great court measures 220 × 176 ft. with

double-aisled corridors on the east and west side; other buildings

partially enclosed on the north side, with a lofty tower, thirty feet

square, in the centre and surmounted by a small dome. In this tower is a

marble staircase, with Roman fragments of the time of Trajan and

Aurelius Antoninus.

The prayer-chamber is entered from the court by thirteen archways, all

circular and horseshoe. The central entrance (Woodcut 988) to the

principal aisle consists of a lofty horseshoe arch of two orders, with a

square low tower and surmounted by a fluted dome. The prayer-chamber

consists of a central aisle with eight aisles on each side, all running

in the direction of the Mecca wall, with cross-arcading at various

intervals. The aisles are separated one from the other by columns all

taken from earlier buildings, carrying horseshoe arches, the columns in

the central aisle being twenty-two feet high, and occasionally coupled

together or in triplets; those of the aisles being fifteen feet high.

The capitals are mainly taken from Roman buildings; some, however, are

Byzantine, and are carved with birds and flowers. The arches are all

tied together by wooden beams and iron rods. The mihrab is surmounted by

a fluted dome on hexagonal base, containing richly coloured glass

windows, and the mihrab niche is lined with marble and Byzantine mosaic

and flanked by porphyry columns. The chief entrance is through a porch

on the west side and is carried up as a tower, and there are four other

minor entrances.

[Illustration: 989. Minaret at Tunis. (From Girault de Prangey.)]

Tunis possesses some noble edifices, not so old as this, but still of a

good age; but except the minaret represented in the annexed woodcut (No.

989), none of them have yet been drawn in such a manner as to enable us

to judge either what they are or what rank they are entitled to as works

of art. This minaret is one of the finest specimens of a particular

class. It possesses none of the grace or elaborate beauty of detail of

those at Cairo; but the beautiful proportion of the shaft, and the

appropriate half-military style of its ornaments, render it singularly

pleasing. The upper part also is well proportioned, though altered to

some extent in modern times. Unfortunately neither its age nor height is

correctly known. It is probably three or four centuries old, and with

its contemporary the Hassanee mosque at Cairo, proves that the Saracenic

architects were capable of expressing simple grandeur as well as

elaborate beauty when it suited them to do so.

Algeria possesses no buildings of any importance belonging to any good

age of Moorish art. Those of Constantine are the only ones which have

yet been illustrated in an intelligible manner, and they scarcely

deserve mention after the great buildings in Egypt and the farther East.

I cannot help suspecting that some remains of a better age may still be

brought to light; but the French archæologists seem to be wholly taken

up with the vestiges of the Romans, and not to have turned their

attention seriously to the more modern style, which it is to be hoped

they soon will do. In an artistic point of view, at least, it is far

more important than the few fragments of Roman buildings still left in

that remote province.

CHAPTER III.

SPAIN.

CONTENTS.

Introductory remarks—Mosque at Cordoba—Palace at Zahra—Churches of Sta.

Maria and Cristo de la Luz at Toledo—Giralda at Seville—Palace of the

Alcazar—The Alhambra—Sicily.

CHRONOLOGY.

DATES.

Moors invade Spain A.D. 711

Abd-el-Rahman commences Mosque at Cordoba 786

El-Hakeem II. extends the Mosque southwards and rebuilds

sanctuary 961

El Mansour enlarges mosque eastwards 980

Alcazar and Giralda at Seville (about) 1200

Mohammed ben Alhammar commences Alhambra 1248

Abou abd-Allah, builder of Court of Lions, begins to reign 1325

Christian conquest of Granada 1492

OWING probably to its position, the forms which the Saracenic style

assumed in Spain are somewhat different from those which we find

elsewhere. As a style it is inferior to many other forms of Saracenic

art. It has not the purity of form and elegance of detail attained in

Egypt, nor the perfection in colouring which characterises the style of

Persia, while it is certainly inferior both in elegance and richness to

that of India. Still it is to us perhaps the most interesting of the

whole, not only because of its proximity to our own shores, and our

consequent greater familiarity with it, but because history, poetry, and

painting have all combined to heighten its merits and fix its forms on

our minds. Few are unacquainted with the brilliant daring of the handful

of adventurers who in the 8th century subjugated Spain and nearly

conquered Europe, and fewer still have listened without emotion to the

sad tale of their expulsion eight centuries afterwards. Much of the

poetry and romance of the Middle Ages owes its existence to the

struggles between the Christian and the Paynim knights; and in modern

times poets, painters, and architects have all lingered and expatiated

on the beauties of the Alhambra, or dwelt in delight on the mysterious

magnificence of the mosque at Cordoba. Indeed no greater compliment

could be paid to this style than that conveyed by the fact that, till

within the last few years, not one work of any importance has been

devoted to the Christian antiquities of Spain, while even England has

produced two such splendid illustrations of the Alhambra as those of

Murphy and Owen Jones—works far more magnificent than any devoted to our

own national art. In France, too, Girault de Prangey, Le Normand,

Chapuy, and others, have devoted themselves to the task; and even in

Spain the ‘Antigüedades Arabes en España’ is the best production of the

class. We are thus really familiar with what these strangers did; while

the cathedrals of Seville, Toledo, Burgos, and Leon, are only partially

measured or illustrated; and travellers hurrying to the Alhambra scarce

condescend to alight from the diligence to cast a passing glance at

their beauties.[476]

This is indeed hardly fair; still it must be confessed it is impossible

to come into contact with the brilliant productions of the fervid

imagination of a Southern people without being captivated with their

beauty; and there is a fascination in their exuberance of ornament and

brilliancy of colour which it is impossible to resist when these are

used with the daring which characterises their employment here. It is

also true that these Moorish architects avoid the vulgarity which would

inevitably accompany such exuberance in the hands of Northern artists—a

defect which the more delicately organised Asiatic invariably escaped.

CORDOBA.

As far as the history of architecture is concerned, by far the most

interesting building in Spain is the mosque of Cordoba; it was the first

important building commenced by the Moors, and was enlarged and

ornamented by successive rulers, so that it contains specimens of all

the styles current in Spain from the earliest times till the building of

the Alhambra, which was in the latest age of Moorish art.

This celebrated mosque was commenced by Caliph Abd-el-Rahman in the year

786, and completed by his son El-Hakeem, who died 796. The part built by

them was the eleven western aisles and twenty-one bays deep, which then

formed an edifice completed in itself, not unlike the Aksah at Jerusalem

(except in the number of aisles), which the Caliph is said to have been

anxious to surpass. In 961 A.D. El Hakeem II. enlarged the mosque by

forming arches through the south wall and adding twelve more bays

further south. He rebuilt the mihrab and added priest’s chambers the

whole width of his building. The court on the north side was rebuilt

about 937 A.D.

[Illustration: 990. Plan of Mosque of Cordoba. (R. H. Carpenter, R. I.

B. A., Transcriber.)]

The eight eastern aisles were added by El Mansour (976-1001), who

increased the size of the court to the full width, thus completing the

mosque to a parallelogram of 573 ft. by 422; it covers, therefore,

242,000 square feet, or, not counting the open court, 232,000 square

feet, being a larger superficies than that of any Christian church,

including St. Peter’s at Rome. It is, however, sadly deficient in

height, being only about 30 ft. high to the roofs, and also wants

subordination of parts, all the aisles being nearly of the same width,

about 22 ft., except the central one of the original eleven, which is 5

ft. wider; the 33 transverse aisles are all similar in breadth; so that

altogether it is as deficient in design as the “hall of a thousand

columns” of a Hindu temple, and produces pretty nearly the same effect.

The mosque of Abd el-Rahman I. was built with columns of many-coloured

marbles, taken from ancient edifices, with beautiful capitals of Roman

and Byzantine work. These columns being small and low, they were obliged

to employ the expedient of placing arch over arch to eke out their

height—to insert, in short, for the nonce that strange style which gives

so peculiar a character to the building. In the additions by El Hakeem

II. the same style was adhered to, but the columns were quarried at

Merida for the purpose, and are all uniform in colour and size. The

capitals are blocked out only, and not carved, except some in the

mihrab. A manksoura or sanctuary was enclosed at the north end,

including two bays in depth, and extending across the eleven bays of El

Hakeem II.’s addition. Great richness was given to this portion of the

work, and the lower arches are formed of interlaced cusped work of great

elaboration and richness, which seems to have suggested the plaster

decoration of the screen work above the arches in the courts of the

Alhambra. The decorations of the sanctuary and the mihrab in marble and

mosaic are of Byzantine workmanship, being executed by artists sent by

the Emperor Leo from Constantinople at the request of the Caliph, El

Hakeem II. The roof of the whole mosque was originally in wood, carved,

painted, and gilded. This is now hidden by the brick and plaster vault

built underneath partly in 1713-23 and in this century; this vault also

hides the frieze which decorated the upper part of the walls.

[Illustration: 991. Interior of Sanctuary at Cordoba. (From a Drawing by

Girault de Prangey.)]

In the eastern extension of Al Mansour there is a great falling off in

the execution of the work, which is irregularly set out, and in which

some of the arches are pointed.

The alterations effected by the Christians are found in the church

erected on the southern side of the first south wall, taking three bays

of El Hakeem II.’s mosque, and in the great coro built in 1547, in the

centre of the whole building. According to Mr. Carpenter, the work is a

combination of late Gothic and Plateresque work, and great ingenuity has

been shown in the treatment of the arches of the transept where the

Moorish aisles run into them. “The effect of the whole is undoubtedly

very grand, and we cannot but respect the skill of the architect, even

though its erection involved the sweeping away of a large portion of

Moorish work.” Mr. Carpenter refers also to “the very clever and

artistic treatment of the great internal piers of the flying buttresses,

which, with the walls of the Capilla Mayor facing the aisles are

panelled and filled with sculptures of late-painted work executed with

great delicacy and beauty.”

[Illustration: 992. Exterior of the Sanctuary, Cordoba. (From

Rosengarten.)]

Before leaving this mosque it may be as well to remark that nowhere in

any of these styles does the pointed arch appear, or only so timidly as

to be quite the exception, not the rule. At an age when its employment

was universal in the East, it is singular to observe how completely the

Saracenic architects followed the traditions of the country in which

they found themselves. At Cordoba they never threw off the influence of

the Roman arches, though farther north the pointed is by no means

uncommon in their buildings.

Contemporary with the rebuilding of the sanctuary of the mosque was the

erection of the great palace in the city of Zahra near Cordoba, which,

if we may trust the accounts that have been handed down to us, was by

far the most wonderful work of the Moors in Spain. This indeed might be

expected, for, as has been before remarked, the palaces were the

principal buildings of this people, and this being of the very best age,

might naturally be expected to excel any other edifice erected by them.

Hardly a stone now remains to mark even the spot where it stood. Its

destruction commenced shortly after its completion, in the troubles of

the 11th century, even before the city fell into the hands of the

Christians, and we therefore depend wholly on the Arabian historians

from whom Conde and Murphy compiled their accounts; but as they, with

Maccary, describe the mosque in the same page with the palace, and do

not exaggerate, nor say one word too much in praise of the former, we

cannot refuse credence to their description of the latter.

[Illustration: 993. Screen of the Chapel of Villa Viciosa, Mosque of

Cordoba.]

According to these authors the enclosing wall of the palace was 4000 ft.

in length E. and W., and 2200 ft. N. and S. The greater part of this

space was occupied by gardens, but these, with their marble fountains,

kiosks, and ornaments of various kinds, must have surpassed in beauty,

and perhaps even in cost, the more strictly architectural parts of the

building. 4300 columns of the most precious marbles supported the roofs

of the halls; 1013 of these were brought from Africa, 19 from Rome, and

140 were presented by the Emperor of Constantinople to Abd-el-Rahman,

the princely founder of this sumptuous edifice. All the halls were paved

with marbles in a thousand varied patterns. The walls too were of the

same precious material, and ornamented with friezes of the most

brilliant colours. The roofs, constructed of cedar, were ornamented with

gilding on an azure ground, with damasked work and interlacing designs.

All in short, that the unbounded wealth of the caliphs of that period

could command was lavished on this favourite retreat, and all that the

art of Constantinople and Bagdad could contribute to aid the taste and

executive skill of the Spanish Arabs was enlisted to make it the most

perfect work of its age. Did this palace of Zahra now remain to us, we

could afford to despise the Alhambra and all the works of that declining

age of Moorish art.

Among other buildings contained within the great enclosure of the palace

was a mosque. This had five aisles, the central one wider than the

others. The total length from the Kibleh, or niche pointing to Mecca, to

the opposite wall was 97 cubits (146 ft.), the breadth from E. to W. 49

cubits (74 ft.). It was finished in the year 941, and seems to have been

one of the last works of the palace, having been commenced in 936. From

this description it is clear that it was virtually a five-aisled church,

and, as no mention is made of the court, we may fancy that, like the

seven-aisled Aksah at Jerusalem, it never had that accompaniment, but

was in reality only a basilica extended laterally, but on a small scale.

The church of Sta. Maria la Bianca (Woodcuts Nos. 957, 958), described

in a previous chapter, though built for another people, and for a

different purpose, is still so essentially in the Saracenic style, that

it may fairly be taken as illustrating the progress which has been made

in perfecting it up to its date in the 12th century.

[Illustration: 994. Church of San Cristo de la Luz, Toledo. (From a

Drawing by Girault de Prangey.)]

Another very interesting specimen of a Moorish mosque in Spain is that

at Toledo, now known as the church of Cristo de la Luz (Woodcut No.

994). It is a small square building with four stout short pillars on the

floors, dividing it into nine equal compartments, the central one of

which is carried up higher than the others, and terminated by a sort of

dome, if dome it can be called; for the Spanish architects, working

almost wholly from Roman models, never adopted the Byzantine dome to any

extent, except perhaps as the roofs of baths. In their mosques and

palaces it is only used as an ornamental detail, and never constructed

either of stone or brickwork, but merely a carpentry framing covered

with stucco or mastic. The Spanish style shows in this a most essential

difference from the Eastern, where the domes are so splendid and durably

constructed, and where they constitute the actual roofs of the

buildings.

Indeed vaulting does not seem under any circumstance to have been an art

to which the Spanish Arabs ever paid any attention. Almost all their

roofs are of wood carved and painted, or of stucco, not used to imitate

stone, but as a legitimate mode of ceiling, which it certainly is, and

for fanciful and gorgeous decorations perhaps preferable to more durable

but less manageable materials.

The art resulting from such materials is, it is true, more ephemeral and

must take a lower grade than that built up of materials that should last

for ever; but such was not the aim of the gay and brilliant Moors, and

we must judge them by their own standard, and by their success in

attaining the object they aimed at.

In San Cristo the walls are sufficiently solid and plain, and on the

whole the forms and decorations are judiciously and skilfully applied to

attain the requisite height without raising the columns or giving any

appearance of forced contrivances for that purpose. In this respect it

shows a considerable advance on the design of the older part of the

mosque at Cordoba, than which it is probably at least a century more

modern; but it does not show that completeness which the art attained in

the 10th century, when the sanctuary at Cordoba was erected.

These four buildings mark four very distinct stages in the history of

the art—the early mosque at Cordoba being the first, the San Cristo de

la Luz the second; the third and most perfect is well represented by all

the building at the southern end of the mosque at Cordoba; and the

fourth by Sta. Maria la Bianca, where all trace of Roman and Byzantine

art has wholly disappeared. A fifth stage is represented by another

synagogue at Toledo called El Transitu; but this is so essentially

merely a gorgeously ornamented room that it hardly serves to be classed

among monumental buildings; besides which this stage is so well

illustrated in the palaces of Seville and Granada that it is not

necessary to dwell on minor examples. Had the great mosques of Seville,

Toledo, or Granada been spared to us, it would perhaps have been easier

and better to restrict our illustrations to sacred edifices alone; but

they—at least certainly the two first named—have wholly disappeared to

make way for the splendid cathedrals which stand where they once stood,

and which have obliterated nearly every trace of their previous

existence. In the northern cities the national pride and stern bigotry

of the Spaniards have long ago effaced all traces of this religion.

THE GIRALDA AT SEVILLE.

None of the mosques we have been describing possess minarets, nor is

there anything in Spain to replace the aspiring forms of the East except

the Giralda at Seville. This is a more massive tower than is, I believe,

to be found anywhere else as the work of a Moslem architect. At the base

it is a square of about 45 ft., and rises without diminution to the

height of 185 ft. from the ground; to this a belfry was added in 1568 by

Ferdinand Riaz, making it 90 ft. higher; and unfortunately we have

nothing to enable us to restore with certainty the Saracenic termination

which must have been displaced to make room for this addition. In the

annexed woodcut (No. 995) it is represented as restored by Girault de

Prangey, and from a comparison with the towers of Fez and Morocco,

erected by the same king, it is more than probable it was thus

terminated originally. It is difficult nevertheless to reconcile oneself

to the idea that the upper part was not something more beautiful and

more in accordance with the base. In the East the Mahomedan architects

would certainly have done something better; but here, from the want of

familiarity with tower-architecture, and from the want of any circular

or domical forms for the termination of towers or sky-lines, this

inartistic form may have been adopted. The lower part is certainly much

more beautiful; the walls are relieved with panels to just such an

extent as is required for ornament without interfering with the

construction or apparent solidity of the tower, while the windows are

graceful and appropriate, and in such number as seems required. In this

respect it contrasts pleasingly with the contemporary campanile at

Venice, which, though very nearly of the same dimensions, is lean and

bald compared with this tower at Seville. So indeed are most of the

Italian towers of the same age. All these towers seem to have been

erected for very analogous purposes, for the Giralda can never have been

meant as the minaret of a mosque, to be used for the call to prayer; nor

can we admit the destination sometimes ascribed to it by those who

surmise that it may have been merely meant for an observatory.

[Illustration: 995. Giralda, Seville. (From a Drawing by Girault de

Prangey.)]

Most probably it was a pillar of victory, or a tower symbolical of

dominion and power, like many others we have had occasion to allude to

in the previous pages of this work. Indeed the tradition is that it was

built by King Yousouf to celebrate his famous victory of Alarcos, gained

in the year 1159, in which year its construction was commenced. As such

it is superior to most of those erected in Europe in the Middle Ages,

but far inferior, except in size, to the Kootub Minar, and many others

still found in various parts of Asia.

THE ALCAZAR AT SEVILLE.

The Alcazar[477] at Seville was an older palace, and perhaps also at one

time a more magnificent one than the Alhambra itself. Hence it would be

a most interesting example of the Mahomedan style, were it not that it

has been much dilapidated in subsequent ages, and its character

destroyed by alterations and so-called improvements after it fell into

the hands of the Christians. It is more than probable that the best

parts of it belong to the same age as the Giralda—the end of the 12th

and beginning of the 13th century—and that it continued to receive

additions till the city was taken by the Christians in 1248. A careful

examination of the building by some one intimate with all the

peculiarities of the style might distinguish the ancient parts from the

later Christian additions, especially those perpetrated by Don Pedro the

Cruel (1353-1364), who, in an inscription on the walls, claims the merit

of having rebuilt it. The history of this palace is not consequently of

much importance, since it is not so much older than the Alhambra as to

mark another style, nor so complete as to enable us to judge of the

effect of the art as perfectly as we can in that celebrated palace.

THE ALHAMBRA.

It was after his expulsion from Seville (1248) that Mohammed ben Alhamar

commenced the present citadel of the Alhambra, at which both he and his

successors worked continually till the end of the 13th century. It does

not, however, appear that any of the more important buildings now found

there were erected by these monarchs. From the accession of

Abou-el-Walid (1309) to the death of Yousouf (1354) the works of the

present palace seem to have been carried on uninterruptedly, and it is

to this half-century that we must refer all the essential parts of the

palace now found in the citadel.

[Illustration: 996. Plan of the Alhambra, Granada. (From G. Le

Normand.)]

As will be seen from the annexed plan, it consists principally of two

oblong courts; the richest and most beautiful, that of the Lions (A A),

running east and west, was built by Abou Abdallah (1325-1333). The

other, the Court of the Alberca (B B), at right angles to the former, is

plainer and probably earlier. Restorers generally add a third court,

corresponding with that of the Lions, which they say was removed to

allow of the erection of the palace of Charles V. (X X), which now

protrudes its formal mass most unpleasingly among the light and airy

constructions of the Moors. My own impression is that if anything did

stand here, it was the Mosque, which we miss, although we know that it

existed, and tradition points to this side as its locality, though it

certainly was not the apartment at that angle which now goes by that

name. It must, like all Spanish mosques, have faced the south, and was

most probably destroyed by the first Christian conquerors of Granada.

Indeed it is not unlikely that the Christian palace above mentioned,

which stands strangely unsymmetrically with the other buildings, follows

the lines of the old mosque. This could be in great measure determined

if we could rely upon the bearings of the different courts and buildings

as given in the plans hitherto published.

The principal entrance to the Alhambra seems always to have been at the

southern end of the Court of the Alberca. This part does seem to have

been altered or pulled down to make way for the palace of Charles V. The

court was originally called, apparently from the pool of water which

always occupied its centre, El Birkeh. It is 138 ft. long by 74 wide,

the longer sides being singularly, and in such a place ungracefully,

plain. The end to the south terminates with a double arcade of very

beautiful design; and that to the north with a similar one, but only one

storey in height, crowned by the tower enclosing the great Hall of the

Ambassadors (C), to which the Court is practically an anteroom. This is

an apartment 35 ft. square, and about 60 in height, roofed by a

polygonal dome of great beauty of design, and covered, like the walls,

with arabesque patterns of the greatest beauty. One of its most charming

peculiarities, however, is the deeply-recessed windows, looking down on

the city, and beyond that commanding a view of the delicious Vega, and

the mountains that bound it. It is one of the most beautiful scenes in

the world, of which the architect availed himself with the eye of a true

artist, who knew how to combine nature and art into a perfect whole.

The other court, called that of the Lions (A A), from the beautiful

fountain supported by twelve conventional-looking animals so called, is

smaller (115 ft. by 66 from wall to wall), but far more beautiful and

elaborate than the other; indeed, with the apartments that surround it,

this is the gem of Arabian art in Spain—its most beautiful and most

perfect example.[478] It has, however, two defects which take it

entirely out of the range of monumental art: the first is its size,

which is barely that of a modern parish church and smaller than many

ball-rooms; the second its materials, which are only wood covered with

stucco. In this respect the Alhambra forms a perfect contrast to such a

building as the Hall at Karnac, or any of the greater monumental

edifices of the ancient world, and, judged by the same standard, would

be found lamentably deficient. But, in fact, no comparison is applicable

between objects so totally different. Each is a true representative of

the feeling and character of the people by whom it was raised. The

Saracenic plaster hall would be totally out of place and contemptible

beside the great temple-palace of Thebes; while the granite works of

Egypt would be considered monuments of ill-directed labour if placed in

the palaces of the gay and luxurious Arab fatalist, to whom the present

was everything, and the enjoyment of the passing hour all in all.

The shafts of the pillars that surround the Court of Lions are far from

being graceful in themselves, being more like the cast-iron props used

by modern engineers than anything else. Their capitals, however, are

very gracefully moulded, and of a form admirably adapted for the support

of the superstructure they were destined to bear, and the pillars

themselves are so gracefully grouped, alternately single and coupled,

and their alignment is so completely broken by the projecting portico at

each end, that they cease to be prominent objects in themselves, and

become mere accessory details. The arcades which they support are

moulded in stucco with a richness and beauty of ornament that is

unrivalled. There is in this no offence to good taste; indeed work

executed in plaster _ought_ to be richly decorated, otherwise it is an

unsuccessful attempt to imitate the simplicity and power that belongs to

more durable and more solid materials. It should therefore always be

covered with ornament, and was never elaborated with more taste and

consistence than here.

At the upper end of this court is an oblong hall, called that of

Judgment (D), and on either side two smaller rooms, that “of the

Abencerrages” (E) on the south, and that called “of the Two Sisters” (F)

opposite, the latter being the most varied and elegant apartment of the

whole palace. The walls of all these are ornamented with geometric and

flowing patterns of very great beauty and richness, and applied with

unexceptionable taste for such a decoration; but it is in the roofs and

larger arcades that the fatal facility of plaster becomes most apparent.

Instead of the simple curves of the dome, the roofs are made up of

honeycombed or stalactite patterns, which look more like natural

rockwork than the forms of an art, which should be always more or less

formal and comprehensible at a glance, at least in its greater lines and

divisions. There is perhaps no instance where a Saracenic architect has

so nearly approached the limits of good taste as in these parts, and it

requires all the countervailing elements of situation, and comparison

with other objects, to redeem them from the charge of having exceeded

those limits.

Behind the Hall of the Two Sisters, and on a lower level, are situated

the baths (G)—beautiful in some respects, and appropriately adorned, but

scarcely worthy of such a palace.

Besides the edifices mentioned above, there is scarcely a town in Spain,

once occupied by the Moors, that does not retain some traces of their

art. These traces, however, are generally found in the remains of baths,

which from their nature were more solidly built than other edifices, and

were generally vaulted with bricks—frequently with octagonal domes

supported on twelve pillars, as those in the East. These in consequence

have survived, while the frailer palaces of the same builders have

yielded to the influence of time, and their mosques have disappeared

before the ruthless bigotry of their successors. None of the baths,

however, seem to be of sufficient importance to require notice.

In Spain we entirely miss the tombs which form so remarkable a feature

of Saracenic architecture wherever any Turanian blood flows in the veins

of the people. The Moors of Spain seem to have been of purely Semitic

race, either importations from Arabia or the descendants of the old

Phœnician settlers on the southern coast; and among them, of course, it

would be absurd to look for any indications of sepulchral magnificence.

If the Moors of Spain had practised tomb-building to as great an extent

as some of their brethren further east, this circumstance would, in all

probability, have given a more monumental character to their style of

architecture. True domes would certainly have been introduced and

applied, not only to their mosques but to their palaces, and with them

all those beautiful arrangements which we find as the invariable

accompaniments of domes in the East.

Be this as it may, it is on the whole perhaps fortunate that we possess

in Spain a form of Saracenic art from which all feeling of solemnity,

and all aspirations for the future, are wholly banished. No style of

architecture is so essentially impressed with the feeling that the

enjoyment of the hour is all that should be cared for. It is

consequently the gayest, but it is also the most ephemeral, of all the

styles of architecture with which we are acquainted.[479]

CHAPTER IV.

TURKEY.

CONTENTS.

Mosques of Mahomet II.—Suleimanie and Ahmedjie Mosques—Mosques of

Sultanas Validé, and of Osman III.—Civil and Domestic Architecture,

Fountains, &c.

CHRONOLOGY.

DATES.

Conquest of Constantinople by Mahomet II. A.D. 1443

Bajazet II. 1481

Selim I. 1512

Suleiman II., the Magnificent 1520

Selim II. 1566

Amurath III. 1574

Mahomet III. 1595

Ahmed I. 1603

Amurath IV. 1623

Mahomet IV. 1649

Suleiman III. 1687

Ahmed III. 1703

Mahmood I. 1739

THE latter half of the 15th century witnessed some strange vicissitudes

in the fate of the Mahomedan faith in Europe. In 1492 Granada was

conquered, and the Moors expelled from the country which they had so

long adorned by their arts, and rendered illustrious by their

cultivation of the sciences. Of all the races who, at various times,

have adopted the faith of Islam, the Spanish Moors seem to have been

among the most enlightened and industrious, and the most capable of

retaining permanently the civilisation they had acquired. They have made

way for a people less progressive and more bigoted than any other

population in Europe.

Before, however, this misfortune happened in the West, the fairest city

of the Christian world, and its most fertile provinces, had fallen a

prey to the most barbarous horde of all those who had adopted the

Mahomedan religion. For two centuries the Turks had gradually been

progressing westward from their original seats in Central Asia, and at

last, in 1453, Constantinople itself fell into their power, and for more

than a century after this, the fate of Europe trembled in the balance.

The failure of the siege of Vienna (1683) turned the tide. Since that

time the Christians have slowly and surely been recovering their lost

ground; but the Crescent still surmounts the dome of Sta. Sophia.

Had the Turks obtained possession of Constantinople at an earlier date,

it is possible that their architecture might have taken a different form

from that in which we now find it. But before that event the foundation

of St. Peter’s at Rome had already been laid. The old principles of art

were already losing their hold on the architects of Europe, a revolution

was taking place, and though this would hardly be much felt so far east

as the Bosphorus, or materially influence strangers like the Turks,

still it must have had some influence, and modified their style to some

extent. Be this as it may, we are struck at Constantinople with the same

phenomenon which meets us everywhere in the Mahomedan world. Wherever

the various nationalities settled who had embraced that faith, they at

once adopted the architectural forms of their new country, and set to

work to mould and modify them, so as to bring them more into conformity

with their special requirements. Nowhere do they seem to have brought

their style with them, or thought of forcing that on their new subjects.

In this they were wise; and it is what probably all nations would do who

had any true knowledge of art, or any true feeling for its purposes. In

nine cases out of ten the original people of a country find out the

arrangements most suited to their climate, and the forms of construction

best adapted to the materials which are available; and to attempt to

substitute for these, forms suited to other climates and another class

of materials, is what only an Aryan would think of doing. The Turks,

though barbarous, belonged to one of the great building races of the

world; and so soon as they entered Constantinople, set to work

vigorously to vindicate the characteristics of the family.

Besides appropriating seven or eight of the principal churches of the

city—with Sta. Sophia at the head of the list—to the new worship,

Mahomet II. founded six or seven new mosques, some of them of great

magnificence. The chief of these is that which still bears his name, and

crowns the highest of the seven hills on which the city stands. To make

way for it, he pulled down the Church of the Apostles, which had been

the burying-place of the Christian emperors apparently since the time of

Constantine, and was consequently an edifice of considerable

magnificence. It had, however, been plundered by the Latin barbarians

who sacked the city some time before the Moslems, and it was also so

crippled by earthquakes as to be in a dangerous state. In order to

effect his purpose, Mahomet employed Christodulos, a Christian resident

in Constantinople, to erect on the spot a mosque, which he intended

should surpass all others in his empire. How far he was successful we

have now little means of judging. An earthquake in 1763 so completely

ruined this mosque that the repairs amounted almost to a rebuilding; and

as these were carried out with the quasi-Italian details of the latter

half of the 18th century, its present appearance probably conveys very

little idea either of the form or of the magnificence of the original

building. Enough of its form, however, still remains to tell us that,

like all Turkish mosques, it was a copy of Sta. Sophia. There is,

indeed, nothing in the style we are now speaking of so remarkable as the

admiration which that great creation of the Christians excited in the

minds of its Moslem possessors. There are in or about Constantinople at

least 100 mosques erected in the four centuries during which the Turks

have possessed that city. Not one of these is a pillared court, like

those of Egypt or Syria, nor an arcaded square, like those of Persia or

India—none are even extended basilicas, like those of Barbary or Spain.

All are copies, more or less modified, of Sta. Sophia; and many of the

modifications are no doubt improvements; but none are erected with the

same dimensions, none possess the same wonderful richness of decoration,

or approach the poetry of design, of their prototype. In all that

constitutes greatness in architectural art, the Christian Church still

stands unrivalled. No one who has stood beneath the dome of Sta. Sophia

will hesitate to admit that the Turks were perfectly justified in their

admiration of Justinian’s great creation; but the curious thing is, that

no Christian ever appreciated its beauties. When, after the troubles of

the 7th and 8th centuries, the Greeks again took to building churches,

it was such as Sta. Irene, or the Theotokos, churches like those at

Pitzounda or Ani, or those of Greece or Mount Athos. Not one single

direct copy of Sta. Sophia by Christian hands exists, so far as is

known, in the whole world. But the Turk saw and seized its beauties at a

glance; and, by constancy to his first affection, saved his architecture

from the utter feebleness which has characterized that of Western Europe

during the four centuries in which he has been encamped on this side of

the Bosphorus.

Among the other mosques built by Mahomet II., the most sacred is that of

Eyub, the standard-bearer of the Prophet, whose body is said to have

been found on the site of the mosque. Plans and drawings of this mosque

might easily have been obtained while our armies occupied Constantinople

during the Crimean war; but the opportunity was neglected, and all we

have to depend upon is an eye-sketch by Ali Bey.[480] As the mosque in

which each Sultan on his accession is girt with the sacred sword, and as

the most holy in the empire, it would be interesting to know more about

it, but we must wait.

The mosque of Bayazid, 1497-1505, is of the usual type, but not

characterized by any extraordinary magnificence. In the mosque of Selim,

1520-26, the dome and its pendentives are carried by eight octagonal

piers, reverting therefore to the principle of St. Sergius as regards

supports; these piers, however, stand free within the walls, so that

there is apparently greater space provided; the dome has a diameter of

108 ft., being the largest built by the Turks, that of Suleimanie mosque

being 93 ft. in diameter, and of Sultan Ahmed 63 ft.

SULEIMANIE.

All these were, however, surpassed by that which was erected by Suleiman

the Magnificent, between the years 1550-1555. It is still quite perfect

in all its constructive parts, and little altered in detail; and as

there is every reason to suppose that it equalled, or even surpassed,

all others of its class, if it be illustrated the rest will be easily

understood.

[Illustration: 997. Plan of Suleimanie Mosque. (By Texier.) Scale 100

ft. to 1 in.]

As will be seen from the plan,[481] the mosque itself is nearly square,

225 ft. by 205 over all externally, and covering between 45,000 and

46,000 sq. ft. In front is a forecourt, 150 ft. by 190 internally,

surrounded by an arcade on all sides, and containing the fountains,

which are the indispensable accompaniment of all mosques. Behind is the

“garden” containing the tomb of the founder and those of his favourite

wife and other members of the family. All this, properly speaking, is

one design and one building; and all these parts are requisite to

complete the establishment of a great imperial mosque.

[Illustration: 998. Section of Suleimanie Mosque. (By Texier.) Scale 50

ft. to 1 in.]

Internally the construction rests on four great piers of pleasing and

appropriate design; and the screen of windows on each side, under the

great lateral arches of the dome, is borne by four monolithic shafts of

porphyry of great beauty. These formerly supported statues in the

hippodrome, and most probably were brought originally from Egypt. Each

is 28 ft. in height, or, with the base and capital, 35 ft. The dome

itself is 86 ft. in diameter internally, and 156 ft. in height. This

seems even a better proportion of height to diameter than that of Sta.

Sophia, though the dimensions are so much less that it has not, of

course, the same grandeur of effect. At Sta. Sophia the dome is 108 ft.

in diameter, and 175 ft. in height, or 21 and 19 ft. more respectively.

These smaller dimensions, as well as the absence in the mosque of all

the mosaic magnificence of the church, and the presence of a good deal

of modern vulgarity, render it extremely difficult to institute any fair

comparison between the two buildings. On the whole, it may, perhaps, be

said with truth, that the mosque is more perfect mechanically than the

church; that the constructive parts are better disposed and better

proportioned; but that, for artistic effect and poetry of design, the

church still far surpasses its rival, in so far at least as the interior

is concerned.

[Illustration: 999. View of Suleimanie Mosque. (From a Photograph by

Bedford.)]

Externally the mosque suffers, like all the buildings of the capital,

from the badness of the materials with which it is constructed. Its

walls are covered with stucco, its dome with lead, and all the sloping

abutments of the dome, though built with masonry, have also to be

protected by a metal covering. This, no doubt, detracts from the effect;

but still the whole is so massive—every window, every dome, every

projection, is so truthful, and tells so exactly the purpose for which

it was placed where we find it—that the general result is most

satisfactory, and as impressive an external effect has been produced

with one-half the expense of adornment requisite for a Gothic building

of the same pretensions.

The tomb of the founder, which stands in the garden behind, avoids these

defects. It is built in marble of various colours, and every detail is

most carefully elaborated. It is too small—only 46 ft. in diameter

externally—to produce any grandeur of effect; but it suffices to show

that the architects of those days were quite competent to produce

satisfactory designs for the exteriors of their buildings, if they had

found appropriate materials in which to execute them.

Next in importance to the Suleimanie, among the Imperial mosques of

Constantinople, is that which the Sultan Ahmed commenced A.D. 1608. The

mosque itself is in plan somewhat larger than the preceding, measuring

235 ft. by 210, and covering nearly 50,000 sq. ft.; but it is inferior

both in design and in the richness or taste of its decorations. As will

be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 1000), it deviates still further than

the Suleimanie from the design of Sta. Sophia; and in the exact ratio in

which it diverges from that type, does it fail in producing an artistic

effect. Its great defect is, that it is too mechanically regular. In the

nave of Sta. Sophia the proportion of length to breadth is practically

as two-and-a-half to one. In the Suleimanie it is nearly two to one, but

the Ahmedjie is absolutely square. Without asking for the extreme

difference between length and breadth which prevails in Gothic

cathedrals, a design must have sides—there must be some point towards

which the effect tends. In this mosque, as in the Pantheon at Rome, if

the plan were divided into quarters, each of the four quadrants would be

found to be identical, and the effect is consequently painfully

mechanical and prosaic. The design of each wall is also nearly the same;

they have the same number of windows spaced in the same manner, and the

side of the Kibleh is scarcely more richly decorated than the others.

Add to this, that all the windows are glazed with white glass, and that,

above the marble wainscotting, whitewash has been unsparingly employed,

and it will be easy to understand how the mosque fails in producing the

effect which might fairly be expected from its dimensions and the

general features of its design. Still, a hall nearly 200 ft. square,

with a stone roof supported by only four great fluted piers, is a grand

and imposing object, and has very narrowly missed producing the effect

its builders were aiming at.

The external effect is more pleasing than the internal; the mode in

which the smaller domes and semi-domes lead up to the centre produces a

pyramidal effect that gives a very pleasing air of stability to the

outline, and the six tall minarets go far to relieve what otherwise

might be monotonous. It is said that this is the only mosque in the

Moslem world which has so many of these graceful adjuncts, except the

mosque at Mecca, which has seven. The Suleimanie and Sta. Sophia have

four; most of the others two, and some only one; but, whatever their

number, the form of all is nearly identical with those of the Suleimanie

(Woodcut No. 999). They are graceful, no doubt, but infinitely inferior

to those of Cairo, or, indeed, of any country where this form of tower

was long employed. We do not know whence the Turks first got this form,

and it is very difficult to understand why they persevered so long in

adhering to it, after so many other more beautiful forms had been

introduced among their co-religionists in other countries. But so it is;

and everywhere its tall extinguisher roof is one of the first objects

that warns the traveller that he has passed within the boundaries of the

Turkish Empire.

[Illustration: 1000. Plan of Ahmedjie Mosque. (By Texier.) Scale 100 ft.

to 1 in.]

Though very much smaller than those just described, that known as the

Prince’s Mosque is one of the most pleasing in Constantinople. It was

erected in 1548, by order of Sultan Suleiman, by the same architect—

Sinan—who designed the great mosque, and who seems to have been the

great architect of the reign of that magnificent monarch. The smaller

mosque was erected in memory of his son Mahomet, and as a place of

burial for him; and another of his sons—Mustafa—was also laid by his

side. In accordance with this destination, this mosque bore a more

solemn and gloomier aspect than the great mosques of the city. Their

principal defect is the glare introduced through their numerous

scattered windows, a defect which in this mosque is remedied with the

most satisfactory results.

There are three imperial mosques in the city erected by Sultanas, and

all bearing the name of Valide, which has given rise to some confusion

in describing them. The most important of them is that at the end of the

bridge of boats near the harbour, known as the “Mosque at the Garden

Gates.” It is somewhat late in date (1665), and has been a good deal

whitewashed and otherwise disfigured; but on the whole it is of more

artistic design than that of Ahmed, and, when fresh, must have been, for

its size, as pleasing as any of the mosques in the city.

The Turks adhered so long to this form, and repeated it over and over

again with so little variation, that it is extremely difficult to draw a

line between what may be said to belong to the Middle Ages, and what to

modern times. As late, for instance, as 1755 the Sultan Osman III.

erected a mosque in the Bazaar, which externally is as pleasing as any

of those in the city, and it requires a very keen eye to detect anything

which would indicate that it is more modern than those of the age of

Suleiman. It has the peculiarity, however, that there are no semi-domes,

and the light is introduced through screens under all the four great

arches of the central dome. In another locality the effect might be

pleasing, but in the latitude of Constantinople the result is a glare of

light which aggravates the usual defect of these designs. Even the Turks

seem to feel this, as the mosque is generally known by the name of Nur

Osmanlie, or Lantern of Osman, a designation which too correctly

describes its leading characteristics.

CIVIL AND DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE.

As about one-tenth part of Constantinople is burnt down every year, and

the flames visit each quarter in tolerably regular succession, it would

be in vain to look for anything worthy of the name of architecture among

the temporary wooden structures dignified by the name of the “palaces”

of the nobles. Partly from the jealousy of the Government, or partly, it

may be, because the Turks have never felt quite secure in their European

possessions, they never seem to have affected anything of a permanent

character in their dwellings. It might, however, be expected that in the

palace of the Sultan something better would be found; but there are few

things more disappointing than a visit to the Seraglio. In situation it

is unrivalled, and it has been the habitation of powerful and luxurious

sovereigns for more than fifteen centuries, yet it contains nothing that

is worthy of admiration, and hardly anything that is even interesting

from its associations. There is nothing within the enclosure which will

stand comparison even with the plaster glories of the Alhambra; and the

contemporary palaces of Persia, or of Delhi and Agra, surpass it to such

an extent as to render comparison impossible.

There is one pavilion, the walls of which are covered with Persian

tiles, which is pleasing, both from its form and the mode of decoration.

Besides this, the various halls being separate buildings and grouped

without formality together, the effect of the whole is picturesque,

though neither as parts nor as a whole have they any architectural

merit.

Among the minor objects of architectural art none are more pleasing than

the fountains which frequently adorn the public places in the provincial

cities as well as in the capital; though their outline is by no means

remarkable for beauty. They are generally a square block with a niche on

each face, from a spout in which the water flows. The whole is crowned

by a very deep cornice constructed in wood, but without any brackets or

apparent means of support, which true architectural taste so inevitably

demands. Their beauty, in consequence, depends almost wholly on their

ornamentation. That, however, is of the most elaborate character, and

not only pleasing in form, but rich in colour; of the same character, in

fact, as that of the Alhambra, and pleasing from the same cause, in

spite of defects in form.

It is probable that if the country towns, especially on the Asiatic side

of the Bosphorus, were examined with care, examples might be found of

domestic architecture exhibiting more care, and of a more permanent

character than any in the capital. The true Turk evidently loves art,

and has an instinctive appreciation of the harmonies of colour—probably,

also, of form; and, if allowed an opportunity, would have produced much

that is beautiful in architecture. The blood of the various races who

inhabit the capital must, however, be very much mixed, and various other

circumstances militate against any great development in that quarter.

The subject seems worthy of more investigation than has hitherto been

bestowed upon it, but the first appearance of the Turks among civilized

nations was only as warriors pushing forward and fighting. When at last

they settled on the shores of the Bosphorus it was at an age too late

for much true architectural development in Europe. On the whole, we

ought therefore rather to be surprised that they did so much, than seek

to know why they did not accomplish more. Sinan and Michel Angelo were

employed simultaneously in erecting the two great religious edifices of

their age in the two old capitals of the Christian world. The mosque at

Constantinople is less than one-fourth the size of St. Peter’s at Rome,

but notwithstanding its comparatively small dimensions, it is far better

in design, and a much more impressive building than its gigantic

Christian rival. If the mosque had been constructed with better

materials, and with somewhat increased dimensions, it would have stood a

comparison with any building of its class; and, even as it is, must be

considered as one of the most successful designs of modern times.

CHAPTER V.

PERSIA.

CONTENTS.

Historical notice—Tombs at Bagdad—Imaret at Erzeroum—Mosque at Tabreez—

Tomb at Sultanieh—Bazaar at Ispahan—College of Husein Shah—Palaces and

other buildings—Turkestan.

CHRONOLOGY.

DATES.

Arab conquest of Persia A.D. 641

Haroun al-Rashid began to reign 786

Dynasty of Tartar Saamanides 874

Seljukian dynasty 1037

Ghengis Khan 1205

Ghazan Khan builds a mosque at Tabreez 1294

Mahomed Khodabendah, builder of tomb at Sultanieh, began

to reign 1303

Sufi dynasty 1499

Abbas the Great, builder of Bazaar at Ispahan 1585

Husein Shah, last of the Sufis 1694

Tamerlane 1361-1405

OWING to a curious concatenation of circumstances, partly local, partly

ethnological, the architectural history of Persia is nearly a blank for

the first six centuries of the Hejira. Nothing remains of the ancient

glories of Bagdad except a few fragments of the walls of the Madrissa,

and perhaps one or two tombs. Bussorah and Kufa are equally destitute of

any architectural remains of the great age of the Caliphs. Indeed, there

seems scarcely to be one single mosque or important building now

remaining between the Euphrates and the Indus which belongs

authentically to the earlier centuries of the Mahomedan era, and in such

a state as would enable us to say what the style of those days was, or

how far it resembled or differed from the contemporary styles in the

neighbouring countries.

From what we know from history of the age of Haroun al-Rashid, it is

probable that no Moorish court ever reached a higher pitch of

enlightenment and magnificence than that of Bagdad during his reign

(A.D. 786-809). It was also so far removed from the direct influence of

the Byzantine style, that it is probable we should find in his buildings

the germ of much which now comes abruptly before us without our being

able to trace it back to its origin.

In the whole architectural history of the world there is scarcely so

complete a break as this, and scarcely one so much to be lamented,

considering how great and how polished the people were whose art is thus

lost to us. Let us hope, however, that it is not entirely lost; but that

some fragments may yet be recovered by the first who earnestly searches

for them.

[Illustration: 1001. Plan of Tomb of Zobeidé, Bagdad. Scale 100 ft. to 1

in.]

[Illustration: 1002. Tomb of Zobeidé, Bagdad.]

[Illustration: 1003. Tomb of Ezekiel, near Bagdad. (From Texier and

Pullan.)]

Meanwhile there is one tomb outside the walls of Bagdad known as the

tomb of Zobeidé,[482] the favourite wife of Haroun al-Rashid, which may

belong to this epoch; and even if it should prove to be more modern is

interesting from its presenting us with a new form of pyramidal roof. It

is an octagonal building, 80 ft. in diameter externally and 61 ft. high,

with an entrance porch on one side. The walls are of great thickness and

contain a staircase leading to the roof. The internal diameter is 42 ft.

and is covered over with a roof of pyramidal form 45 ft. in diameter and

rising to 90 ft. above the roof of the main building. The Sassanian

method of covering over such a space would have been to span it with an

egg-shaped dome similar to that which we find in the central hall of

Serbistan (Woodcut No. 259), which is of the same diameter. Here,

however, a much stronger form of construction would seem to have been

adopted; a series of slightly pointed headed niches sixteen in number

were built, projecting slightly, on arches thrown across the alternate

angles of the interior. Above these were built a second range with a

less diameter and therefore overhanging a little the lower range, the

sides of the upper range resting on the centres of the niches below. In

this way six more stages were constructed all in brick, gradually

diminishing the diameter of the central space. Then comes a break which

is emphasized in the extreme by a cavetto cornice, above which come

three more stages but with eight niches only in each row, the upper one

covering completely the whole pyramid. The interiors of these niches

(which range in size from 5 ft. diameter and 10 ft. high in the lower

range to 1 ft. 6 in. diameter and 5 ft. high in the upper range) are

decorated with tiles and mosaic. The exteriors, both of this tomb

(Woodcut No. 1002) and of that of Ezekiel (Woodcut No. 1003), which is

of similar design, are covered over with stucco. Lamps were probably

suspended by chains from the centre of each of these niches to judge by

the holes now visible outside. Somewhat the same form occurs also at

Susa in the so-called tomb of Daniel, and generally seems to be so usual

in the age of the Caliphs, and is so peculiar, that it must have been

long in use before it could have become so generally diffused. The chief

interest which is attached to it is the possibility of its having been

the source from which that essentially Saracenic feature the stalactite

vault has been obtained. It is not found in any other style, and

although, in later work it is more often found in other materials, such

as stone, plaster and wood, in these latter it has not the same

constructional reason for its existence, in fact it has become a purely

decorative feature.[483] On comparing the tomb of Ezekiel (Woodcut No.

1003) with the pendentive shown in the porch of the ruined Mosque of

Tabreez (Woodcut No. 1006 ) the same superimposed niches will be

recognised.

[Illustration: 1004. Imaret of Oulou Diami at Erzeroum. (From Texier’s

‘Arménie et la Perse.’)]

From these, which may belong to the age of the Caliphs, we pass at once

to the Seljukians, who seem to have been possessed of stronger building

instincts.

One of the earliest buildings of this race of which anything like

correct illustrations have been published is the Imaret or Hospital of

Oulou Diami, at Erzeroum—an arcade of two storeys, surrounding on three

sides a courtyard 90 ft. by 45. It is broken in the centre by what in a

Christian church would be called a transept. The woodcut here given (No.

1004) shows the general appearance of the arcade, and also the upper

part of two minarets which flank the external porch. This porch is

ornamented in the richest manner of the style. Opposite to the entrance

a long gallery leads to the tomb of the founder, a circular building of

very considerable elegance, the roof of which is a hemispherical vault

internally, but a straight-sided Armenian conical roof on the outside.

These dispositions make the plan of the building so similar to that of a

Christian church, that most travellers have considered it as one,

mistaking the court for the nave, and the tomb, with the gallery leading

to it, for the apse and choir. There can, however, be no doubt but that

it was originally built by a Mahomedan, for the purpose of a hospital,

or place of rest for pilgrims, during the sway of the Seljukian princes

in the 12th and 13th centuries; and that its similarity to a Christian

church in plan is accidental, though its details very much resemble

those of the churches of Ani and other places in Armenia. This, however,

only shows that the inhabitants of the same country did not practise two

styles, but arranged the same forms in different manners to suit their

various purposes.

There is another mosque of about the same age as this one at Ani, which

would show even more clearly this close analogy; but it has never been

drawn with sufficient correctness to admit of its being used for the

purpose of demonstrating the fact now pointed out. But, indeed,

throughout Armenia, mosques and Christian churches constantly alternate,

borrowing details from one another, and making up one of the most

curious mixed chapters in the history of the art; a chapter still

remaining to be written by some one who may visit the spot with

sufficient knowledge and enthusiasm to accomplish it.

MOSQUE AT TABREEZ.

The next building that may be chosen for illustration is the ruined

mosque at Tabreez, which, when perfect, must have been one of the most

beautiful in the country. Its history is not exactly known; but it

certainly belongs to the Mogul dynasty, which, on the death of Mangu

Khan the son of Ghengis Khan, was founded in Persia by Hulaku, the

brother of Mangu. He and his sons generally retained the faith of their

forefathers till Ghazan Khan, who succeeded in A.D. 1204. Ghazan

zealously embraced the Mahomedan faith, and it was apparently to

signalise the conversion that he began this mosque; but whether it was

finished by him or his successors is not evident. As will be seen by the

plan, it is not large, being only about 150 ft. by 120, exclusive of the

tomb in the rear, which, as a Tartar, it was impossible he could

dispense with.

In plan it differs also considerably from those previously illustrated,

being in reality a copy of a Byzantine church, carried out with the

details of the 13th century—a fact which confirms the belief that the

Persians before this age were not a mosque-building people. In this

mosque the mode of decoration is what principally deserves attention,

the whole building, both externally and internally, being covered with a

perfect mosaic of glazed bricks of very brilliant colours, and wrought

into the most intricate patterns, and with all the elegance for which

the Persians were in all ages remarkable.

Europe possesses no specimen of any style of ornamentation comparable

with this. The painted plaster of the Alhambra is infinitely inferior,

and even the mosaic painted glass of our cathedrals is a very partial

and incomplete ornament compared with the brilliancy of a design

pervading the whole building, and entirely carried out in the same

style. From the time, however, of the oldest Assyrian palaces to the

present day, colour has been in that country a more essential element of

architectural magnificence than form; and here at least we may judge of

what the halls of Nineveh and Persepolis once were, when adorned with

colours in the same manner as this now ruined mosque of the Tartars.

[Illustration: 1005. Mosque at Tabreez. Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]

Though of course impossible adequately to represent this building in a

woodcut, the view[484] (Woodcut No. 1006) of its principal portal will

give some idea of the form of the mosque, and introduce the reader to a

new mode of giving expression to portals, which after the date of this

building is nearly universal in the East. The entrance-door is small,

but covered by a semi-dome of considerable magnitude, giving it all the

grandeur of a portal as large as the main aisle of the building. The

Gothic architects attempted something of this sort, by making the outer

openings of their doors considerably larger than the inner; in other

words, by “splaying” widely the jambs of their portals. By this means,

in some of the French cathedrals, the appearance of a very large portal

is obtained with only the requisite and convenient size of opening; but

in this they were far surpassed by the architects of the East, whose

lofty and deeply-recessed portals, built on the same plan as the example

here shown, are unrivalled for grandeur and appropriateness.[485]

[Illustration: 1006. View of Ruined Mosque at Tabreez. (From Texier’s

‘Arménie et la Perse.’)]

The mosque was destroyed by an earthquake in the beginning of the

present century, but it seems to have been deserted long before that,

owing to its having belonged to the Turkish sect of the Somnites, while

the Persians have during the last five centuries been devoted Shi-ites,

or followers of the sect of Ali and his martyred sons.

TOMB AT SULTANIEH. (A.D. 1303-1316.)

Mahomed Khodabendah, the successor of Ghazan Khan, the builder of the

mosque at Tabreez last described, founded the city of Sultanieh, and,

like a true Tartar, his first care was to build himself a tomb[486]

which should become the principal ornament of his new city. Ker

Porter[487] says that, being seized with as much zeal for his new

Shi-ite faith as his predecessor had been for the Somnite, his intention

was to lodge in this mausoleum the remains of Ali and his son Hossein.

This intention, however, was not carried into effect, and we know that

his own bones repose alone in their splendid shrine.

[Illustration: 1007. Tomb at Sultanieh. Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]

In general plan the building is an octagon, with a small chapel added

opposite the entrance, in which the body lies. The front has also been

brought out to a square, not only to admit of two staircases in the

angles, but also to serve as a backing to the porch which once adorned

this side, but which has now entirely disappeared.

[Illustration: 1008. Section of the Tomb of Sultan Khodabendah at

Sultanieh. (From Texier’s ‘Arménie et la Perse.’) Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.]

Internally the dome is 81 ft. in diameter by 150 ft. in height, the

octagon being worked into a circle by as elegant a series of brackets as

perhaps ever were employed for this purpose. The form of the dome, too,

is singularly graceful and elegant, and much preferable to the

bulb-shaped double domes subsequently common in Persian architecture.

The whole is covered with glazed tiles, rivalling in richness those of

the mosque at Tabreez, and with its general beauty of outline this

building affords one of the best specimens of this style to be found

either in Persia or any other country.

[Illustration: 1009. View of the Tomb at Sultanieh.]

These works were, however, far surpassed in magnificence, though not in

beauty, by those of the dynasty of the Sufis, who succeeded in 1499. The

most powerful and brilliant sovereign of this race was Shah Abbas the

Great (A.D. 1585-1629), whose great works rendered his capital of

Ispahan one of the most splendid cities of the East. Among these works,

by far the most magnificent was the great _Maidan_, or bazaar, with its

accompanying mosque and subordinate buildings. The Maidan is an immense

rectangular area, 2600 ft. by 700,[488] surrounded on all sides by an

arcade two storeys in height, consisting of 86 arches on the longer and

30 on the shorter sides, richly ornamented, and broken in the centre of

each face by a handsome edifice. The great mosque is at one end,

opposite to which is the bazaar gate, and in the longer side the Luft

Ullah mosque; facing this is the Ali Kassi gate, which, in its various

storeys and complicated suites of apartments, is in fact a palace rather

than a gateway as we understand the term.

[Illustration: 1010. Great Mosque at Ispahan. (From Texier’s Work.)

Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.]

The dimensions of the Great Mosque, or Mesjid Shah, may be judged of

from the following plan. As will be perceived, the Maidan not facing

Mecca, a bend is made in the entrance, which, however, is far from being

unfavourable to the general picturesque effect of the group. The mosque

itself is a rectangular building, the internal dimensions of which are

223 ft. by 130, the centre compartment being surmounted by a dome 75 ft.

in diameter and 110 ft. high internally; but being double, like most

domes of this age, its external height is 165 ft., which is also the

height of the minarets attached to the mosque. On three sides the mosque

is surrounded by courtyards, richly ornamented, and containing fountains

and basins of water for the prescribed ablutions of the faithful. The

principal court measures 225 ft. by 170, and surrounded as it is on all

sides by façades in the richest style of Persian polychromatic

decoration, the brilliancy of its architectural effect is almost

unrivalled by any other example of its class. Both in architectural

forms and in the style of ornament this mosque is inferior to those at

Tabreez and at Sultanieh; but for mass and amount of decoration it is

among the most magnificent specimens of its class. Taken altogether, the

Maidan Shah, and its accompanying mosques and gates—the whole the work

of one king and on one design—present a scene of gorgeous, though it may

be somewhat barbarous, splendour, almost unequalled in the whole world.

Even now, in its premature decay, it strikes almost every traveller with

astonishment, though the style is not one that looks well in ruin, owing

to the perishable nature of the materials employed, and the tawdry

effect of glazed tiles, when attention is drawn to the fact that they

are a mere surface ornament to the walls.

The forms and peculiarities of this style will be better judged of—in a

woodcut at least—by the representation of the Madrissa, or college, of

Husein Shah (Woodcut No. 1001 ), the last of the Sufi kings of Persia;

and though erected at the end of the 17th century, while the great

mosque was built in the beginning of it, but little change seems to have

taken place in the interval: the minarets are of the same form, the

double bulb-shaped dome is similar, and the double arcades that surround

the court of the mosque are the same in form as those that encircle the

Maidan Shah.

From the time of the Afghan invasion, which took place during the reign

of the Sultan Husein in the beginning of the last century, Persia does

not seem to have recovered herself sufficiently to undertake any great

works; some palaces, it is true, have been built, and mosques of

inferior dimensions, but nothing really remarkable of late years. The

influence of the corrupt styles of Europe has become too apparent to

enable us to hope that she will ever again be able to recover her place

in the domain of art.

Although it was sometimes brilliant, and always truthful, the Persian

Saracenic is hardly entitled to rank among the really great or admirable

styles of architecture. Its chief historic interest rests on the fact of

its being a modern reproduction of the style of the ancient palaces of

Nineveh and Babylon, using the same thick walls of imperfectly burned

bricks, and covering them with the same brilliant coloured decorations

of glazed and painted tiles and bricks, carrying this species of

decoration to an extent never attempted in any other part of the world.

This too constitutes its principal claim to interest in an artistic

point of view, since it shows how far polychromatic decoration may be

used, both internally and externally, not only without any offence to

good taste, but with the most complete success in producing that beauty

and splendour which is the aim of all architectural utterance.

[Illustration: 1011. Madrissa of Sultan Husein at Ispahan. (From Flandin

and Coste’s ‘Voyage en Perse.’)]

PALACES.

The Persian princes showed almost as much taste and splendour in their

palaces as in their mosques; but these were not from their nature so

capable of architectural display as the others. An Eastern palace

neither requires that mass of apartments and offices which are

indispensable in Europe, nor does the climate admit of their being

massed together so as to form a single group, imposing from its size. On

the contrary, the Persian palaces generally consist of a number of

pavilions and detached halls, and smaller groups of apartments scattered

over a large space interspersed with trees and gardens, and only

connected by covered arcades or long lines of canals, the centre of

which is adorned by fountains of the most elegant forms.

Individually these detached buildings are often of great beauty and most

elaborately ornamented, and the whole effect is pleasing and tasteful;

but for true architectural effect they are too scattered, and the whole

is generally very deficient in grandeur.

The Throne-room at Teheran (Woodcut No. 1012 ) is a fair specimen of

these buildings, though, in fact, it is only a porch or deep recess

opening on a garden, the front being supported or ornamented by two

twisted columns. In front of these a massive curtain is drawn out when

the room is used, and both for colour and richness of effect the curtain

is virtually the principal feature in the composition.

[Illustration: 1012. Throne-room at Teheran. (From ‘Nineveh and

Persepolis Restored.’)]

The next example is taken from the palace of Char Bagh, or the “Four

Gardens,” at Ispahan, and shows the general picturesque form these

buildings assume. It is by no means so favourable a specimen as the

last, though this may arise more from the nature of the building than

from any defect on the part of its architect. Many of the pavilions in

the same palace are of great lightness and elegance, though, most of

them being supported by wooden pillars, and being of very ephemeral

construction, they hardly belong to the higher class of architectural

art.

The Caravanserais form another class of buildings, not peculiar, it is

true, to Persia, but which, from the character of the traffic in

merchandise, and the general insecurity of the roads along which it is

conducted, has received a great development in that country. Internally,

their usual form is that of a square courtyard, surrounded by a range of

arcades generally two storeys in height, each arch opening into a small

square cell at the back. Externally they present only a high plain wall,

surmounted by battlements and flanked by towers at each angle, and

sometimes also by additional towers in the longer faces. The principal

architectural ornament is lavished on the gateways, which are almost

always higher than the contiguous walls, and often display great beauty

of design combined with considerable elaboration of detail.

It is not, however, only in these larger monuments that the Persians

show an appreciation of the beautiful and a power of expressing it. As

in most Eastern nations, the feeling seems innate, and all the minor

objects they fabricate exhibit it, as well as the more important ones,

and it is to the former that we must probably look in future for

examples of Persian art, for her political position is such that she

will hardly be able soon to attempt anything great or important in

architectural art. There are still, however, resident in that country

remnants of those races who built the palaces of Babylon and Nineveh;

and if an opportunity were afforded them, they might still do something,

if allowed to do it in their own way. It is to be feared, however, that

European influence is extending through that country too fast for art;

and that if they attempted anything, it will be only in the bastard

Italian style, which, with the round hat, seems destined to make the

tour of the globe.

[Illustration: 1013. Palace at Ispahan. (From ‘Nineveh and Persepolis

Restored.’)]

TURKESTAN.

[Illustration: 1014. Pavilion in the Khan’s Palace at Khiva. (From a

view in ‘The Graphic.’)]

The progress of the Russians in Northern Asia has recently opened up

whole regions that hitherto have been hidden from the light of European

research, and the beautiful paintings of Verestchagin have rendered us

familiar with the splendour of the capital of Timur the Lame.

Unfortunately, however, no photographs have yet been published of

Samarcand, and no plans of the buildings of that far-famed city. We have

not seen any such detailed descriptions as would enable us to speak with

anything like certainty of their affinities or difference with other

buildings of the same age. All that can be said with certainty is that

the great Mosque and Tomb of its founder at Samarcand are erected in the

same style as the mosque at Tabreez (Woodcut No. 1006 ), and the tomb at

Sultanieh (Woodcut No. 1009), and other buildings in Persia and Armenia,

with only such slight differences as might be expected from their more

northern locality. The whole façade of the mosque, together with

minarets and domes, is covered with painted tiles—so far as can be

ascertained—of extreme beauty of design, and the tomb is surrounded by

screens of marble trellis-work very similar to what we find afterwards

in the works of Timour’s descendants at Agra and Delhi. The great

interest, in fact, that attaches to these buildings arises not so much

from their own intrinsic value as because they form a connecting link

between the style of Persia and that of the Great Mogul dynasty in

India, and, when properly investigated, they will serve to explain much

that is now obscure in the history of the art in that country.

The buildings of these Northern capitals will probably also prove

interesting as historical indications in another direction, as they

retain traces of a modern style of architecture which, notwithstanding

the distance in time, seems to be traceable back to the palaces of

Nineveh and Persepolis. Verestchagin’s paintings gave several

illustrations of this style, which in a modified form is found in the

oldest cave temples in India. Its most marked peculiarity is the

elongated bulbous form of the shaft, rising from a broad shoe-like base,

and supporting a small bracket capital. The sketch on the previous page

of a pavilion at Khiva explains its general features, but its merits as

an architectural form arise from the beauty of the carved details with

which it is ornamented, which cannot be expressed in so small a scale.

We probably know enough now of Northern Asia to render it probable that

we can hardly expect to find there any buildings of great antiquity, or

any of greater magnificence than those of Samarcand; but it seems

equally, or more clear that, when properly investigated, these buildings

will supply many missing links in our history, and explain a great deal

that now seems mysterious.

BOOK II.

ANCIENT AMERICA.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

CHRONOLOGY.

DATES.

Toltecs arrived in Anahuac A.D. 648

Toltecs abandoned the country 1051

Chichemecas arrived 1170

Acolhuans arrived about 1200

Aztecs reached Tula 1196

City of Mexico founded 1125

Almitzotl conquered Guatemela beginning of 16th century

Spaniards arrived 1519

ALTHOUGH considerable progress has been made during the last few years

in clearing away the mists that hang over most of the problems connected

with American antiquities, much still remains to be done before we can

give a distinct or satisfactory answer to many of the questions that

arise regarding them. We cannot yet say positively whether the Toltecs,

the Aztecs, and other tribes who inhabited the Valley of Mexico, were

successive waves of one great immigration from the North, or whether

they belonged to different races of mankind. We cannot tell whether

there was any connection between the civilisation of Mexico and Peru.

The historical difficulties are far from being settled, and, more than

all these, it is still a matter of doubt whether American civilisation

is wholly original and indigenous, or whether any portion of it was

derived from the Old World.

The one consolatory fact in all this perplexity seems to be, that the

materials certainly do exist by which it can be removed. So soon as any

one conversant with such inquiries will undertake the investigation on

the spot, he will be able to arrange all the buildings into

chronological series, and fix at least their approximate dates. He will

also be able to say how far the buildings in one province are akin to

those in another, and to separate those which belong to other races; and

he will be able to tell us whether there is any essential similarity

between the styles of the Old and the New World, or whether the latter

be really original. Whenever a sufficient number of photographs reach

Europe the investigation may be undertaken here, but it will be very

much easier on the spot. Hitherto the great difficulty has been that the

drawings of American monuments—especially those published by Humboldt

and Lord Kingsborough—cannot be depended upon. The one bright exception

to this censure are those of F. Catherwood,[489] both those which he

published separately, and those with which he illustrated the works of

Mr. Stephens.[490] Had that artist undertaken to classify his work in a

chronological series, he doubtless could have done it; but as the

arrangement of the plates is purely topographical, and they are so far

reduced to a common denominator by the process of engraving, the

classification can hardly now be attempted by one not familiar with the

buildings themselves. In the meanwhile there seems no good reason for

doubting the conclusion which he and Mr. Stephens arrived at, that the

cities which they rediscovered were those which were inhabited and in

the full tide of their prosperity at the time of the Spanish Conquest.

The buildings which we now see in ruins were probably then all in use,

and many may have been in progress and unfinished at the time of that

great disaster. On the other hand, it is extremely doubtful if any

building in Central America can date from five centuries before that

event: in Mexico some may be older, but their title to greater antiquity

has not yet been satisfactorily made out.

Whatever uncertainty may exist with regard to Mexican history, there is

nothing in it that can strictly be stigmatised as fabulous. The Mexicans

do not pretend to any very remote antiquity or divine descent. There are

no heroes who live thousands or tens of thousands of years; nor any of

the other extravagances that usually mark the dawn of history in the Old

World. On the contrary, the Mexican annals modestly commence with the

arrival of the Toltecs in Anahuac in the 5th or 6th century, and with

the beneficent teaching of a stranger, Quetzalcoatl, who lived among

them, taught them architecture and the agricultural arts, instructed

them in their religious duties, and then, like Lycurgus fifteen

centuries earlier, left them by sea, promising to return.

For 300 or 400 years from this time the Toltecs lived in peace and

prosperity, covering the table-land, it is said, with their monuments.

But evil times came; famine, internecine wars, and disasters—interpreted

as evidences of the wrath of the gods—drove them from their homes, and

they migrated, it is said, southwards to Yucatan; where it is usually

assumed that they erected the architectural monuments we now find in

that country.

Central America is, however, one of the most fertile countries in the

world, and capable of supporting—indeed did support—an immense

population with very little labour; so it seems probable that it was

inhabited long before the time mentioned.[491] This, however, by no

means militates against the idea that the Toltecs may have been the

first to communicate to their new country many of the arts they had

elaborated in Anahuac. Indeed, it is to such a combination of two not

very dissimilar races that all the greatest results in art or

civilization have been attained in other parts of the world, and it may

have been the case here also.

Politically the annals of Anahuac are a blank between the departure of

the Toltecs and the arrival of the Aztecs in the middle of the 12th

century. These seem to have been a people of different race from the

former occupants of the valley, but sufficiently akin to take up the

previous civilization; and being reinforced by successive immigrations

of tribes of the same race, and speaking apparently similar languages,

they had at the time of the arrival of the Spaniards fully repeopled the

valley and elaborated a very considerable degree of civilization.

Again everything we read of, and every indication we have, leads us to

suppose that the greatest development of civilization in Mexico took

place immediately before the Spanish Conquest, and thus that the time of

highest prosperity was that which directly preceded its destruction.

Four centuries had apparently sufficed to convert a tribe of Red Indians

into a tolerably civilized community. Whatever their civilization may

have been, it could not have attained a very permanent character, for it

vanished like a phantom at the first touch of the European; and the

remnants of the Indians who still remain are as incompetent creatures as

exist in any part of the world.

Till the investigations of the ethnologist are further advanced, it is

impossible to feel any great confidence in the various theories that

have been advanced on this subject. Without wishing to put it forward as

a thing to be relied upon, it appears to me that the following scheme

meets more nearly than any other the requirements of the case, while it

amalgamates more perfectly the various facts ascertained by scientific

men.

It is generally admitted that two races of men are found, either now

living or whose remains are found in Mexican sepulchres. One of these is

said to be allied to the Esquimaux, or races of that class, the other to

the Red Indians. The former, I cannot help thinking, represent the

Toltecs. It does seem that all along the west coast of America, from

Behring’s Straits to California, races have always existed more or less

closely allied to the Kamtchatdales or Esquimaux; and these may, at some

early period, have advanced to the plains of Mexico. If they were of

that blood there is no difficulty in understanding how they became

builders.

On the other hand there seems little doubt that the Aztecs were Red

Indians, allied to those tribes who, so far as we know, always inhabited

the Valley of the Mississippi and the countries to the eastward of it.

They may have been capable of taking up an earlier civilization, and, if

their blood was mixed at all with the earlier inhabitants, of carrying

it further; but in themselves they are utterly unprogressive and

incapable of developing any attributes of civilized life.

In Yucatan we certainly have another race, but whether they were Caribs,

or some other people whose traces have been lost, cannot now be easily

ascertained. In Peru, and possibly also further north, there is

certainly a strongly developed Polynesian element, and there may be

other races still; but these four alone, mixed in varying quantities,

are more than sufficient to account for all the varieties we find there

in the course of our inquiries.

There still remains one question which is more germane to our present

subject than even the others; though perhaps on the whole still more

difficult to answer. It is this: Are the civilization and arts of the

ancient Americans original and indigenous, or did they receive any

impulse from the natives of the Old World? One part of this may easily

be disposed of. The absence of all domestic animals, the possession of

only one of the cereals, the total ignorance of alphabetic writing and

of the use of iron—though the country is full of the ore—and many other

minor facts, seem sufficient to prove that no immigration of tribes or

families could have taken place in such numbers as to bring their

animals, their grain or their materials, with them. This, however, by no

means precludes the possibility of many missionaries having reached

their shores, who, though bringing nothing but what they carried in

their brains, could communicate doctrines, teach arts, and improve

processes, and so communicate much of the civilization of the countries

from which they came.

Without laying too much stress on the somewhat mythic story of

Quetzalcoatl, though there seems no good reason for doubting its main

features, we have only to refer to the history of India between 250 B.C.

and 700 A.D. to see what missionary zeal prevailed in those days. Asoka

set the example, and by his missionaries and their successors the

doctrines of Buddha were propagated from the shores of the Mediterranean

to the Yellow Sea; or, what is more to our purpose, we have only to read

the travels of Fa Hian and Hiouen Thsang to see what dangers by land and

sea the Chinese missionaries between the 4th and 7th centuries were

prepared to brave in the service of the faith. It probably would have

been easier to travel to Mexico from China _viâ_ Behring’s Straits than

to reach India through Central Asia, and to return from Ceylon by sea.

Whether or not such a journey was ever accomplished, is another

question. I do not think that either Neumann[492] or D’Eichthal[493]

have at all made out a satisfactory case to prove that the country of

Fusang, from which the pilgrim Hoei Shin returned to China in the year

499, was Mexico. On the contrary, the evidence of the domestic animals,

&c., he speaks of, and other important details, all seem to tell the

other way. It looks more as if Vancouver Island, or the coast

thereabout, was the place indicated. But are there any remains of a

half-civilized people there? Be this as it may, the story, which is

authentic as far as it goes, seems to prove that Northern America was in

communication with Northern Asia in the 5th century.

D’Eichthal’s argument, that the Mexican sculptures are Buddhist, seems

even more groundless. I have carefully examined the examples he adduces,

and, from a tolerably intimate acquaintance with Buddhist art in Asia,

may be permitted to say that I can see no trace of it in Mexico. If the

argument were based on that Serpent-worship which almost everywhere

underlies Buddhism in the Old World, it would not be so easy to refute

it. There is a very considerable likeness between the sculptured forms

of the Serpent-worship in the Old and in the New World. But it is a

serious question, whether this arose from a similar instinct in the two

races, or was communicated from the one to the other. My present

impression is in favour of some intercommunication in so far as

Serpent-worship is concerned.

Our knowledge of the architecture of Eastern Asia and of Western America

is not yet sufficiently precise to enable us to base any very pointed

argument upon it. It is curious, however, that as we advance eastward

from the Valley of the Euphrates at every step we meet with forms of art

becoming more and more like those of Central America. When we reach the

sea we encounter at Suku in Java a teocalli, which is almost identical

with that of Tehuantepec.[494] In Cambodia we have teocallis at Bakong

and Bakeng, and no one would be startled if told that representations of

some of the temples at Ongcor Thom in Cambodia were really taken from

buildings found in Yucatan. In China many of the crinkum-crankums of

their art find their close counterparts in America. But for the distance

and the geographical difficulties, no one probably would hesitate to

admit that the architecture of America may have been borrowed from the

Old World. But how did it cross the ocean? At present that barrier seems

almost insurmountable. But it may not always remain so: the inquiry is

still in its infancy, and the tendency of all recent researches has been

to show that there were more means of communication and a more direct

connection between the nations of the world in ancient times than we

have hitherto been disposed to believe was likely or even possible.

CHAPTER II.

CENTRAL AMERICA.

CONTENTS.

Historical Notice—Central American style—Temples—Palaces—Buildings at

Palenque—Uxmal, &c.