Part 4

In planning the Mosque the architects incorporated a number of Roman columns with choice capitals. Some of the columns were already in the Gothic structure; others were sent from various quarters of Spain as presents from the governors of provinces. Ivory, jasper, porphyry, gold, silver, copper, and brass were used in the decorations. Marvellous mosaics and azulejos were designed. Panels of scented woods were fastened with nails of pure gold, and the red marble columns were said to be the work of God. The primitive part of the building, reared under the direction of Abd-er-Rahman I., was that bordering the Court of Oranges. Later, the immense temple embodied all the styles of Morisco architecture in one noble composition.

The first Khalif of Cordova did not survive to witness the completion of the Mosque. He died in the Alcazar long before the work was finished, and committed the task to his son Hisham. The prince carried on the work with zealous devotion. Upon his father’s death in 788, the building covered only a small part of the ground now occupied by the Mosque and its later additions. Hisham I. built the tower for the muezzin, and the fretted gallery for the women worshippers, and added much to the Zeca, or House of Purification, erected by Abd-er-Rahman.

The Court of Ablutions was laid out by the first Khalif, and occupied the ground of the present Court of Oranges. In constructing the Mosque, the founders adapted the basilica form of building to the new worship. During the Omeyyad dynasty the original building was constantly enlarged and improved, and fresh decorations were added up to the time of Almanzor. Each Khalif vied with his predecessor in beautifying the temple. The pristine building was finished ten years after the planning under Abd-er-Rahman I., that is, during the reign of Hisham I., who conducted the labour with the utmost expedition. Marbles of spotless white were chosen for the innumerable columns. Arrazi, an Arab writer, speaks of the valuable wine-coloured marble, obtained from the mountains of the district, which was much used in embellishing the naves of the Mosques of Cordova and Ez-Zahra.

The solemnity and beauty of the ceremonies in the House of Purification can only be imagined. Every day saw the celebration of the _tazamein_, or purification of the devout, before entering the holy structure, and six times daily the _alicama_, or call to prayer, was shouted by the muezzin from the summit of the minaret. No shoes were permitted to defile the sanctuary; the worshippers entered barefooted. From its sacred shadow all Jews were excluded, and restrictions guarded the approach of women, except the privileged royal brides.

The interior glittered with gold, silver, precious stones, mosaics, and hundreds of lamps of brass. By the side of the priest stood a mighty wax candle, and the scent of the burning aloes, ambergris, and perfumed oils in the lanterns drifted through the tangled arches of the long naves. Some of the brass lamps were made out of bells taken from Christian churches. The pulpit was seven years in the making. It was of ivory, ebony, sandal, aloe, and citron wood, with nails of gold and silver. Eight artists lavished their skill upon the designing and adorning of this pulpit. In the wondrous mih-rab the walls were of pure gold. A copy of the Koran in a gold case, set with pearls and rubies, was kept in the pulpit. It was taken away by Abu-Mohammed on one of his campaigns, and was finally lost to the faithful.

The building of the Mosque began in 785 or 786, and throughout the rule of the Omeyyad monarchs there were constant additions to the Zeca of Abd-er-Rahman I. As Cordova grew, and strangers flocked to the city from North Africa and Arabia, it was found necessary to provide a larger edifice for the worshippers. In the time of Abd-er-Rahman II., the House of Purification was enlarged by the addition of several aisles, two porches were added, and a new mih-rab was constructed. The columns were gilded at this period at the direction of the Sultan. During the reign of Mohammed I. the work was continued; the walls and portals were improved, and the maksurrah, or railed sanctum for the Khalif, was also built. The ruler attended the services in great pomp on Fridays, approaching the Mosque by an underground passage from his palace.

Hisham’s temple covered an area of 460 feet from north to south, and 280 feet from east to west. It was flanked by stout, fortified walls, with watch-towers and a tall minaret. The number of the outer gates was nine, and of the inner doors eleven. These doors led to the same number of naves within the Mosque. The court had spacious gates on the north, west, and east sides, and fountains for the purification of the pious. The naves were eleven in number, stretching from north to south, and these were crossed by twenty-one smaller naves running from east to west.

In the Mezquita of Cordova we see the first examples of the true Arabian architecture, whose purity was lost at a later date in the style of the Almohades. The Estilo Sarraceno, or earlier style of design and decoration, has an example in the beautiful Puerta del Perdon of the Mosque of Cordova. We learn that by the year 1282 the fashion in form and adornment had so greatly changed, that the Moors who then remained in the city appeared unable to follow the tradition of their craft in decorating the interior of the cathedral. Even in the reign of Almanzor, the specific style of the Arabs was giving place to less beautiful conceptions of line and decoration. Nevertheless, it is generally admitted that the Mosque is the finest example in Europe of the Moorish religious edifice. It maintains uniformity in the plan of its construction, while the dimensions are enormous, and the adornment elegant and characteristic of the art of Islam in the flower of its might and magnificence.

Abd-er-Rahman III. assumed his title of Khalif with the style of _En-Nāsir li-dīni-llāh_, ‘the Defender of the Faith of God,’ added to the Mosque a new tower, and renovated the ancient façade. The minaret contained two staircases, which were built for the separate ascent and descent of the tower. On the summit there were three apples, two of gold and one of silver, with lilies of six petals. The minaret is four-faced, with fourteen windows, having arches upon jasper columns, and the structure is adorned with splendid tracery.

Long before the final stages in the history of the Omeyyad builders, the Moslem temple of Cordova was deemed one of the greatest marvels of architecture in the world. The chroniclers and poets of the period unite in applauding the zeal of the sovereigns who expended such vast treasure in furthering the glory of Allah by the erection of this sumptuous and dazzling tabernacle. Abúlmothanne, the poet, wrote of the Mosque: ‘To it the pilgrims resort from all parts of the world, as if it were the sacred temple of Mekka. Indeed, its mih-rab, when examined, will be found to contain _rokn_ (angles) as well as _makárn_ (standing-place).’ And another singer proclaimed that the Mosque, which was consecrated to God, was ‘without equal in the world.’

Hakem II., Al-Mostansir-billáh, greatly increased the size of the building. This just and cultured ruler caused the construction of the third mih-rab, which was over four years in the making and rivalled all the previous work in this gorgeous part of the Mosque. The new sanctuary was crowned with a splendid cupola, and the marvellous mosaics of foseyfasa were introduced. Hakem also designed a fresh maksurrah for the Sultan, a space enclosed by an ornate wooden fence or screen, which was beautifully domed in the Byzantine style.

Hakem II. was not only occupied in extending and adorning the interior of the Mezquita. During his busy reign in Cordova, the immense library was enlarged by contributions of manuscripts upon all subjects, gathered from every part of the civilised nations. But the library, with its unique treasures of Oriental lore, and its works of science in many languages, was lost to the world upon the wrecking and downfall of the city. The fruit of Hakem’s devotion remains, however, in the most gorgeous and lovely embellishments of the Mosque. This Khalif also built an alms-house adjoining the temple, and quarters for the residence of the preachers and officials of the house of worship.

The style introduced by Hakem II. is seen in the Puerta Murada, in the holy mih-rab, and the part once occupied by the maksurrah. This sovereign delighted in rich colouring, in splendour and daring in the construction of delicate columns to heavy arches, and in the extension of the fantastic arched naves. He almost doubled the size of the Mezquita by the extensions on the south side.

Under Almanzor there was no slackening in the enthusiasm which the Omeyyad family exhibited in improving Cordova and extending and beautifying its famous House of Purification. The part added to the Mosque by Almanzor is that behind the altar, to the left, when entering by the Door of Pardon. The enlargement during this Khalif’s rule was towards the east. New rows of columns, numbering eight, were added, giving a fresh sense of vastness to the aisles and vistas of interlaced arches.

The great Mosque was completed in the time of Almanzor, and its completion was the presage of the decline of Arab power in Spain. In extent the building now measures 394 feet by 360 feet. Almanzor put the finishing touches to the work which Abd-er-Rahman I. began. For generations architects, designers, artists, masons, and metal-workers had lovingly toiled to produce a triumph of art.

The Mosque was finished. Almanzor sought to improve upon the designs and bewildering brilliance displayed in the labour of preceding reigns; but it is doubtful whether his endeavours heightened the splendour of the structure, or gave fresh lustre to the building that stood in the days of Hakem II. It is agreed among the authorities upon Moorish art that Almanzor’s contributions to the edifice show evidence of a decline in taste, and a waning of the æsthetic sense of the Arab-Byzantine schools of designers and craftsmen.

When Almanzor died, the Mosque was 742 feet in length from north to south, and 472 feet in width from east to west. It was encompassed by battlemented walls, with towers of irregular height. The south wall was the highest, and it had nineteen towers. The total number of the watch-towers was forty-eight, and the majority of these have survived.

In the stressful days when the Moorish colonisers sought to possess the whole of the Iberian Peninsula, Cordova was stoutly fortified, and the Mosque was protected by this unscalable wall. This barrier of stone is over six feet thick, and designed to withstand the most violent battering. The defences of the sanctuary are very picturesque; there is a subject for the painter at every tower and corner; but they are perhaps a little less wonderful than the grim walls of Avila, or the sombre parapets of brown Toledo. They are made of durable stone, which is marvellously preserved. Many times have these battlements shuddered at the shouts of the fierce besiegers and the determined defenders; often have their stones been stained with the blood of Goth and Moor.

To-day, in the shadow of the walls, we stroll and look upon the calm vistas, the plain, and the cold grey slopes of the sierras, and see the beggars shrinking from the blinding glare of the sun, prone upon the ground in their tatters, in the cool shelter which the tall towers yield. The Mosque dreams, as all things dream in ancient Spain. Its solid outer walls have defied the ravage of storms and wars. They remain weird monuments of Oriental strength, placid and somewhat mournful in their magnificent sufficiency.

V

IN THE COURT OF ORANGES

The Court of Oranges is shaded on one side by the oldest parts of the Mosque. It is much larger than the Orange Court, or Patio de los Naranjos, of the cathedral of Seville. Here was once the Court of Ablutions, the place where the faithful purified themselves before venturing within the Mezquita. The fountains, five in number, remain to remind us of the original character of the courtyard. Women come here to fetch water from the clear springs. They carry tall jars upon their hips, or upon their heads, and loiter by the fountain to gossip.

This quiet court invites the aged and the idler. It is cool and gratefully shaded, and when the orange-trees are in bloom a fragrance pervades the place. The priests who officiate in the cathedral spend the hours of leisure here, pacing in pairs up and down, as they smoke their cigarettes. Now and again, one notes the lover waiting for his fair one amid the fountains and the palms.

Once there were nineteen beautiful gateways leading into the Court of the Oranges, and these were uniform with the nineteen aisles. We enter by the Puerta de los Palmas, facing the Puerta del Perdon. The sumptuous Gate of Pardon at once attracts us. It is over twenty feet high, with the characteristic horseshoe arches and the elaborate Oriental ornamentation. But this is not the ancient gate; it dates from the Christian recapture of Cordova, and is constructed in imitation of the Arabian work. It is surmounted by a belfry. The upper part of the horseshoe arches is exceedingly ornate, and on either side are coats of arms. The structure is in the Estilo Sarraceno. There are massive doors, coated with copper, upon which are inscriptions. Above the door are poorly painted frescoes.

The Bell Tower erected in place of the old minaret of Abd-er-Rahman III. is not Moorish. It was designed by Hernan Ruiz, one of the Christian architects who planned the cathedral. This tower is interesting as a later monument, but it is not in harmony with the Mosque. It rises higher than the former minaret, is more pretentious, and is out of character with the surroundings. On the top is a figure of San Rafael.

The Court of Oranges is over four hundred feet long and more than two hundred feet in breadth. There was a destruction of many of the trees during a violent storm about seventy years ago, and some of the orange-trees were not replaced. The courtyard has quiet cloisters on three sides, with pillars and arches in the Gothic style.

One side of the Patio de los Naranjos is occupied by the Mosque, and it is here we see the finest exterior work of the time of Abd-er-Rahman I. and Hisham. The portions added by Almanzor are behind the altar to the left, when entering by the Gate of Pardon. In the main the impression that one gains in the Court of Oranges is distinctly Moorish. The fountains, the trees, the fine doors of the Mosque, the walls, the gate on the eastern side, and the inscriptions are purely Oriental. For the rest there has been tampering. The hand of the ‘restorer’ can be traced, and the Bell Tower is an affront upon the old edifice.

Four of the fountains were originally constructed by Hakem II., when he had spent his energy upon improving the interior of the Mezquita. The two founts in the east were for the ablution of the women; the two in the west for the purification of the men. The fountains were scooped out of single blocks of marble, brought from one quarry. To bring these huge masses of marble to their positions in the Court of Oranges, it was necessary to make a sloping road. The fountains were drawn by oxen, and borne upon heavy carts, and seventy beasts were required for each team. When the tanks were set in their places, the water streamed in through the great aqueduct of Abd-er-Rahman I., and the surplus went to fill other fountains in the city.

There was no sparing of the toil of man or beast in the days when the Omeyyads reigned in Cordova, for each Khalif seemed eager for the completion of his share of work upon the Mezquita. The army of Morisco labourers was augmented by a host of Christian captives, and we read that these unfortunates were employed to carry stone upon their heads. We can imagine the files of Christians, each man bending under his burden, compelled to toil in the upraising of a mighty temple to the glory of Islam. But the pendulum swings, and time brings its changes in the fortunes of Moor and Christian. At a later period it is the Mudejar, the ‘reconciled’ Moor, who supports the cumbrous loads upon his head, and does the bidding of the Catholic in the construction of the cathedral. And out of all this labour and sweat, hewing of stone, forging of metal, carving of wood and ivory, beating of gold and silver, and laying on of choice, imperishable colours, we have the composite fane of to-day--the Christian cathedral enfolded in the more wondrous structure of the Mohammedan Mosque. Surely there are questions that flash upon the mind as we sit in the Orange Court, and listen to the throb of the bell calling the Christians to prayer within the ancient Mezquita of the Omeyyads!

But the Cordovese do not appear to ponder upon Time’s fantastic transformations. They muse of other things--the affairs of the hour--and regard the Mezquita as an excellent asset to their slumbrous and impoverished city. Every stranger within their walls is looked upon as a sightseer; and what should he come to see but the famous Mosque? And so the boys in the street, offering their services as guides through the labyrinthine white alleys, point ahead and cry: ‘Mezquita, Mezquita.’ For the building is not known as the cathedral; it is still called the Mosque, although it has been reconsecrated and dedicated to the worship of God and the Virgin Mother.

Climb to the top of the tower and look around upon the bleached houses of the city, the curving river, the dull green of the olive thickets, the yellow grain fields, and the grey ridges of the mountains. Everything is sharp, clear-cut in the unpolluted air, and glowing in the brilliant sunshine of the south. The thoroughfares are like a network, tangled and mazy. Carthaginian hosts crossed those sierras to conquer this coveted territory from the Iberians. Then came the legions of Rome, to expel the settlers and to found Corduba. Here stood the great temple of Janus in the days of Seneca and Lucan, the arena, the schools, and the institutions of a powerful and cultured people. But all these fell with the inrush of the Goths from the north, those intrepid warriors, fanatical as they were fearless; and Cordova saw the ruin of the Roman civilisation, and the inception of a new faith and a new social order.

The scene changes constantly; the action of the drama is vivid. Again the invading flood sweeps over Andalusia. The swarthy Moors advance in battle array to the walls of the city, and the affrighted Cordovese fly to their churches for hiding. Again there sounds the clash of weapons and the shouts of combatants. And Islam prevails; the Christian cathedral is given to the Moors, and the Mezquita takes its place.

For centuries the Omeyyad rules in Cordova, and shapes the city to his fashion, obliterating almost every trace of the preceding orders, creeds, and customs. These are the palmy days, whose memorial lies below us in the Mosque, and the bridge over the Guadalquivir. These are the days that made Cordova a name familiar in the ears of the civilised nations, the days of power, splendour, and learning, whose glory shone throughout the world. The new Mecca arose; the creed of the East conquered, and Iberia was transformed to the guise of the Orient. And as the Moorish sway spread, and the conquered Christians conformed to the new traditions, and the country prospered, men thought that this state was sound and stable, and probably final and perfect.

But the pendulum swung again; the dominion of Islam was threatened by enemies within and without. History repeated itself; Time worked its inevitable revenge, and a lustier race made profit from the decadence of the Morisco civilisation. Spain arose and turned upon her oppressor, and the streets of Cordova were once more drenched with the blood of Moor and Christian. This proud Bell Tower stands as a symbol of the reconquest, and of the decline of Cordova.

Christian Spain rejoiced in her change of fortune. The crusaders set themselves to demolish and to upheave. They abandoned the wholesome habits of the Moors; the baths were destroyed by the hundred as useless relics of the detested Mohammedan. Temples, colleges, and palaces were thrown down. Science, the arts, and letters were neglected. We have read how trade forsook Cordova, and how the light of learning was almost extinguished. Gone were the cultured days of Abd-er-Rahman III., and the resplendent pomp of Almanzor. The Mecca of the West had fallen; the fate of Roman Corduba had come upon it. There was no revival, no uprising of the ruins from the ashes that could remake Cordova in the semblance of its old self. Vestiges alone remained to remind the beholder of the grandeur and the glory of the Mohammedan domination. A misdirected imperialism, an irrational conception of greatness, wrought the wreckage of the ‘Bride of Andalus’ after her recapture by the Christian Spaniards.

VI

THE SPLENDOURS OF THE MOSQUE

Before the rise of Mahomet, the architecture of the Arabs was almost devoid of those specific characters that we find in the later work of Omeyyad designers and artists. The pristine Arabian edifices were built as though the tent served as the model for the architects of this nomadic race. But in the great Mosque of Omar at Jerusalem we have the first example of a new and vigorous development of the art of architecture. The minaret, or praying-tower, was invented by Alwalid, and other distinctive features of the Moorish or Saracenic style were introduced in religious buildings.

In the earliest Morisco-Spanish edifices there was not much original work. The Visigothic temples were reconsecrated to the new faith and adapted to the plans of the primitive Mohammedan mosques, but the designs and style of decoration were not purely Morisco. The work was probably influenced by Persian and ancient Egyptian art, and according to Señor F. M. Tubino it contained Semitic elements. We shall also note the incorporation of the Corinthian capital with the slender Moorish column of marbles of various colours. The characteristic horseshoe arch, with its delicate columns, was one of the earliest manifestations of the developing art of the Moors. There has been much discussion concerning the introduction of the pointed arch, which is so often claimed as ‘Gothic.’ The arch in architecture was no doubt copied from the curved interlacing of the branches of trees, and the wide, flat arch was succeeded by models of a more pointed type. In the thirteenth century the pointed arch was a comparatively common form, and it is fairly evident that its origin was in the East.

In the Mosque of Jerusalem, and of Amrou, in Cairo, there were early examples of the pointed arch. The contrary flexure is a form of pointed arch, and it was used by the Moors. Sir Christopher Wren, and other authorities upon architectural art, lean to the opinion that the so-called Gothic arch is of Oriental origin. There are, however, a number of students who have endeavoured to disprove the Moorish genesis of the narrow arch.

In the First Period of Morisco architecture, the talent and the energy of the designers were chiefly applied to the planning of military defences, towers, walls, and embattlements. The Second Period was one of greater security from the alarms of wars, and the architects devoted their art to devising religious structures and noble mosques. In the Third Period we see the upraising of fine secular buildings, palaces, dwelling-houses, with their courts and colonnades, and the erection of sumptuous marble baths.