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- Kategorie: Lebensstil
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
With 160 Illustrations PREFACE It would be unnecessary to enlarge upon the reasons for including a study of Cordova in this series of Spanish Handbooks: indeed a series of this description would be incomplete without it. The beautiful, powerful, and wise Cordova,—‘the City of Cities,’ ‘the Pearl of the West,’ ‘the Bride of Andalus,’ as the Arabian poets have variously named it,—the ancient capital of Mohammedan Spain, is still one of the most curious and fascinating monuments of this singularly interesting country. Much water has flowed under the sixteen arches of the bridge which spans the Guadalquivir since ‘Cordova was to Andalus what the head is to the body, or what the breast is to the loin’; the Moorish city of the thirty suburbs and three thousand mosques, whose fame once obscured the glory of ancient Damascus, is no longer the centre of European culture. ‘The brightest splendour of the world’ has been lost in centuries of neglect and decay, and the new light of a modern civilisation has not shone upon the remains of its mediæval grandeur. But the Cordova of the great Khalif is still the most African city in Spain; its mosque remains to give us a clearer and fuller idea of the power and magnificence of the Moors than anything else in the Peninsula, not excepting even the Alhambra; and in its narrow, uneven streets and mysterious, silent patios, in the gold and crimson of its fragrant gardens, the student and the artist may find unending interest and enchantment. In selecting the illustrations for this book, the authors have endeavoured to provide both for the antiquary and the lover of the beautiful; for those whose acquaintance with Spain must be made through the medium of the printed page, and for those more fortunate readers who will, we hope, find this book a memento of their wanderings in Andalusia.
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Albert Frederick Calvert
Table of contents
CORDOVA
PREFACE
CONTENTS
ILLUSTRATIONS
CORDOVA
I THE BRIDE OF ANDALUS
II THE MOORISH CAPTURE
III THE OMEYYAD DYNASTY
IV THE BUILDING OF THE MOSQUE
V IN THE COURT OF ORANGES
VI THE SPLENDOURS OF THE MOSQUE
VII THE CATHEDRAL AND CHURCHES
VIII THE PALACE OF THE KHALIFS AND THE MOORISH BRIDGE
IX ILLUSTRIOUS NATIVES OF CORDOVA
APPENDIX I THE GREAT MOSQUE OF CORDOVA
APPENDIX II CORDOVA
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Contents.
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(etext transcriber's note)
THE SPANISH SERIES
CORDOVA
THE SPANISH SERIES
EDITED BY ALBERT F. CALVERT
SevilleMurilloCordovaThe PradoThe EscorialSpanish Arms and Armour
In preparation—
GoyaToledoMadridVelazquezGranada and AlhambraRoyal Palaces of SpainLeon, Burgos, and SalamancaValladolid, Oviedo, Segovia, Zamora, Avila, and Zaragoza
CORDOVA
A CITY OF THE MOORS BY ALBERT F. CALVERT AND WALTER M. GALLICHAN WITH 160 ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMVII
Edinburgh: T. and A. Constable, Printers to His MajestyToTHE DUKE OF SOTOMAYORLord High Chamberlain to H.M. the King of Spain, etc.
My dear Duke,
Some of the pleasantest of my many pleasant memories of Spain are associated with, as indeed they were derived from, the sympathy you have displayed in my work and the great kindness I ever received from the Duchess of Sotomayor and yourself. For these, I hope, sufficient reasons—not as one who seeks to liquidate a heavy debt of hospitality, but rather rejoices in his obligations—I beg you to accept this dedication and permit me to associate your illustrious name with this modest volume.
I am,My dear Duke,Your obliged and ever grateful,ALBERT F. CALVERT.
PREFACE
It would be unnecessary to enlarge upon the reasons for including a study of Cordova in this series of Spanish Handbooks: indeed a series of this description would be incomplete without it. The beautiful, powerful, and wise Cordova,—‘the City of Cities,’ ‘the Pearl of the West,’ ‘the Bride of Andalus,’ as the Arabian poets have variously named it,—the ancient capital of Mohammedan Spain, is still one of the most curious and fascinating monuments of this singularly interesting country.
Much water has flowed under the sixteen arches of the bridge which spans the Guadalquivir since ‘Cordova was to Andalus what the head is to the body, or what the breast is to the loin’; the Moorish city of the thirty suburbs and three thousand mosques, whose fame once obscured the glory of ancient Damascus, is no longer the centre of European culture. ‘The brightest splendour of the world’ has been lost in centuries of neglect and decay, and the new light of a modern civilisation has not shone upon the remains of its mediæval grandeur.
But the Cordova of the great Khalif is still the most African city in Spain; its mosque remains to give us a clearer and fuller idea of the power and magnificence of the Moors than anything else in the Peninsula, not excepting even the Alhambra; and in its narrow, uneven streets and mysterious, silent patios, in the gold and crimson of its fragrant gardens, the student and the artist may find unending interest and enchantment.
In selecting the illustrations for this book, the authors have endeavoured to provide both for the antiquary and the lover of the beautiful; for those whose acquaintance with Spain must be made through the medium of the printed page, and for those more fortunate readers who will, we hope, find this book a memento of their wanderings in Andalusia.
ALBERT F. CALVERT. WALTER M. GALLICHAN.
CONTENTS
ILLUSTRATIONS
Many of the photographs included in this volume, other than those taken by myself, were supplied by Messrs. Rafael Garzon of Granada, Senan and Gonzalez of Granada, Hauser and Menet of Madrid, Ernst Wasmuth of Berlin, publisher of Uhde’s Baudenkmaeler in Spanien und Portugal, and Eugen Twietmeyer of Leipzig, publisher of Junghändel’s Die Baukunst Spaniens, and I take this opportunity of acknowledging their kind permission to reproduce them in this volume.
A. F. C.
CORDOVA
I THE BRIDE OF ANDALUS
I THE BRIDE OF ANDALUS
An impression of colour, heat, and somnolence grows upon the stranger as he rambles through the bright alleys and sunlit plazas of Cordova. He may be neither painter, poet, nor antiquary; yet the opulence of vivid, almost garish tones, the romance that lingers about the Moorish courtyards and the perfumed gardens, and the surviving, pervasive suggestion of age, will stimulate his senses and imagination. For one who is capable of deeper and more subtle impressions, the old city will seem as a consummation of desire and a realisation of fanciful dreams. The spell of Orientalism will hold him; the splendours of The Arabian Nights will be brought before his vision; and he will conjure shapes of sultan, wizard, genii, and sage, and see the lovely retinue of fair women within the palaces of the swarthy potentates.
Music of reed and string will delight his ears; and loitering by the walls, on the banks of the swirling Guadalquivir, he will hear the selfsame song of the bulbul which brought joy and sadness to dark, inscrutable eyes in olden days. He will watch the blue shadows of mosque and tower, and see the sun lavish gold on roof and turret, while his eye will be dazzled by the hues of balconies, by the hot geranium, the gay dabs of drying garments, hanging like flags against the ardent sapphire of the Andalusian sky.
Framed in the arch of a city gateway, he will see a lovely vista of vineyard, olive-crowned hillock, and meditative, grey sierra, rising to the blue.
He will pace the silent square at night, and discourse with Seneca. His ears will drink in the stoic counsels of Lucan, and his brain will grapple with the problems laid down by the sagacious Averroes. He will hear the Moslem call to prayer, and stand to gaze upon the band of the devout filing into the Mezquita.
Clamours of battle will assail him, the clash of sword and shield will startle his slumber, and the night will tremble with the triumphant roar of the fierce, invading Goths. And in hours, fragrant with the scent of flowers—placid in contempla tion of the simple happiness of Cordova’s youths and maidens in the Court of Oranges—he will weave romances of the ancient life, when the town was the seat of the cultured, the home of the arts, and the sanctuary of the pious.
Doubtless the Cordova of to-day subsists like other towns upon the industry and the commercial energy of its inhabitants. There are shops and hotels in the streets; there are signs of handicrafts and of common daily employments. But there is no bustle, no indication of a strenuous existence for the people, and the siesta is long and undisturbed. There is a market, but its produce and merchandise do not suggest the wealth and commerce of earlier days. The consumo, or customs officer, levies his tax upon almost everything which the hard-faring peasants bring into the town, and we have seen a conflict between one of these officials and a countryman over a single live pigeon. The peasant questioned the tax, and the officer explained the case with the flat of his sword-blade. This incident is characteristic of Andalusia, and perhaps it may throw a light upon the discontent which is apt, at times, to manifest itself violently among the agricultural population of Spain.
Certainly there are days of markets and ferias when Cordova arouses itself, and trains of mules and asses creep into the place, and flocks may be seen in the streets. Wine, oil, and fruit are produced in the environs, and grain-crops flourish on the plain. In mediæval times Cordova was famed for its mart, where silk and grain were sold. The district still bears repute for its horse-breeding, but the stock has suffered deterioration through injudicious selection. An anonymous American writer, who was here in 1831, speaks of the horses of Cordova as the finest in Spain, and asserts that they are the descendants of the pure Arabian breed. One still notes many good horses. It is said that the water from the Guadalquivir is as nourishing for horses as is the barley of certain districts of Spain.
The banishment of the Moors hastened the decay of Cordova. For a period the region was almost stripped of its population, and grass grew in the plazas and patios of the town. To-day the inhabitants number about fifty thousand, and though Cordova wears an air of lethargy, the grass does not spring up in the streets. There seems to be just enough human activity to keep the town alive, and it is not wholly, as Henry O’Shea described it, ‘a city of the dead.’ A certain measure of prosperity is assured for Cordova by the attraction of its antiquity, which brings strangers from many lands to visit the magnificent Mezquita.
The Spaniard is not a passionate enthusiast of modernity. He is conservative, and zealous and proud of his ancient towns, and it is quite probable that the bulk of the natives of Cordova prefer that the atmosphere of the place shall remain mediæval. And we who resort to Cordova to reflect upon its past grandeur, and to imbue ourselves with the spirit of the Moorish days, are assuredly satisfied that it has not been modernised and marred during the years that have intervened between the great vandalism after the expulsion of the Arabs and the present time. We are glad to think that all which remains of majesty and beauty is now carefully cherished and respected.
Toledo and Avila, both Moorish towns, display an austerity fascinating by reason of its very grimness. Cordova is beautiful by comparison, partly on account of its situation in a fertile district, and partly because its houses are white flower-decked, and cheerful in aspect. It is more voluptuous than these fortified towns of Castile. The climate is southern, the air softer, and the buildings are less stern in colouring and less menacing in appearance. In Cordova, flowery courts invite you with a smile; in Toledo, frowning gates and barred doors forbid your entrance. Toledo reminds us that the Moors were warriors and conquerors, bent upon aggression and the extension of territory; in Cordova one thinks of the race as sages, artists, worshippers, poets, and lovers. The palm-trees planted by Abd-er-Rahman, ‘The Servant of the Merciful God,’ the tropical flowers and fruits, the mosque, and the fountains, give impress of the milder, pacific, quietly joyous life of the Moors. We recall the words of the wise ruler: ‘Beautiful palm-tree! thou art, like me, a stranger in this land; but thy roots find a friendly and a fertile soil, thy head rises into a genial atmosphere, and the balmy west breathes kindly among thy branches.’
By these signs we learn to love Cordova as the sanctuary of learning and devotion rather than as the citadel of the valiant. It is essentially Oriental. Look at the streets—narrow, crooked, and shady, for, having no horse vehicles, the Arabs had no need for wider thoroughfares. The roofs of the houses project and screen the alleys from the sun. Cordova is clean and bright in contrast to Toledo. The streets are free from garbage; the interiors of the houses are frequently cleansed, and flowers are grown by rich and poor. Fruits are cultivated in and around the town, and one may pluck the fig, orange, lemon, date, peach, plum, pomegranate, strawberry, and almond.
Standing on the massive bridge which spans the Guadalquivir, one looks upon the mosque, the city walls, and towers of churches. The Campo de la Verdad forms a broad promontory washed by the river, and we see quaint Morisco water-mills, and the lever nets of fishermen. There are seventeen arches to the bridge, which is of Moorish design, standing upon piles constructed by the Romans. In the distance rises the range of the Sierra Morena, a savage wilderness of rock, ravine, and crag, haunted by the boar, deer, and lynx. Winding through rich meadowland, the Guadalquivir flows, now in swift shallows, and then in slow deeps, which from certain points of view resemble landlocked pools. The river is wide, but not of great depth. Its flood is stained brown from the soil through which it flows, and at times, when the mountains pay their tribute of swollen streams, the Guadalquivir speeds in a turbid current, filling its banks to the brim.
There is a lonely majesty about this tawny river which for many leagues of its course flows through a desolate, deserted plain. It has but few trees upon its banks; but here and there are stretches of brushwood tenanted by nightingales. The stork visits the silent reaches to fish for eels. Upon its brown banks grows the cold grey cactus. The river breeds barbel, tench, and big eels, and in the summer shad ascend from the sea.
In Roman times the Guadalquivir was navigable as far as Cordova, but to-day the channels have silted up. A few salt pools in the plains show that the sea once covered large tracts of this part of Andalusia. The river is now tidal for some miles above Seville, and ships of heavy tonnage can reach that port. In the middle and upper reaches the river is unfrequented; it waters grassy wastes and fertile vegas, and murmurs by groves of olives in its course by Andujar and Cordova.
Antillon, a Spanish writer, accuses the Cordovese of ignorance and coarse manners. We encountered neither of these qualities during our stay in the old town. Cordova has its mendicants, whose eyes are keen for the advent of visitors, and the boys are somewhat troublesome in their voluntary capacity as guides to the sights of the place. But the natives of Cordova are sedate, picturesque folk, showing no discourtesy to the stranger, but rather a disposition to assist him.
There are three principal hostelries—the Suiza and the Oriente are the visitors’ houses; but those who desire a purely Spanish environment may find quarters at the little Victoria, which has a very charming patio, gay with flowers. There are several good cafés. For amusement there is the Grand Teatro, a large house, in which we saw The Barber of Seville performed. There is, of course, a bull-ring, the Plaza de Toros of every town in Spain. The chief fights are held during the ferias of May and September.
But Cordova is the town of dreams, memories, and meditations rather than of exuberant gaiety. It is a Mecca of the artistic and the studious. For garish pleasure, sparkling society, and excitement one must go to Seville, Malaga, or Cadiz. There is a serene solemnity in Cordova, though it is by no means a gloomy city. The mosque is the attraction and the wonder of the city, and sacred temples do not dispose to hilarity. Cordova is eloquent of the gorgeous, heroic past, and its stones contain sermons upon human destiny and the insecurity of empires. It is a garden city, antiquated, improgressive, tenacious of the ancient spirit, and abounding in beauty of form and colour.
Cordova contains only the remnants of its pristine magnificence, but these are marvellous and precious. The city once boasted of fifty thousand resplendent palaces, and a hundred thousand inferior houses. Its mosques numbered seven hundred, and the cleanly Moors built nine hundred public baths. The city stretched for ten miles along the banks of the Guadalquivir, flanked with walls, battlements, and towers, and approached by guarded gates. The common folk spoke in phrases of poetry; there were no illiterates. Art in every branch flourished in the city; there were hosts of craftsmen working in brass, gold, and clay. The libraries were huge, and hither came men of science, philosophers, poets, and students of all subjects to glean from the store of the world’s accumulated thought.
Throughout Europe the mention of Cordova brought yearning to the hearts of the cultured and studious, and men suffered hardship and stress to pay pilgrimages to this source of learning. Many who journeyed hither echoed the words of Ibn Sareh, the poet, which he uttered upon entering the seat of wisdom: ‘God be praised; I am in Cordova, the abode of science, the throne of the Sultans!’ Seville was ‘the gem,’ ‘the pearl’ of Andalusia; Cordova was called ‘the Bride.’ El-Makkari, the Moorish chronicler, rehearses many of the poetical tributes paid by Moslem writers to the splendid city. Setting forth the culture of the city, he adds, in one place: ‘The Cordovans were further celebrated for the elegance and richness of their dress, their attention to religious duties, their strict observance of the hours of prayer, the high respect and veneration in which they held their mosque, their aversion to wine and their destruction of wine-vases wherever they found any, their abhorrence of every illicit practice, their glory in nobility of descent and military enterprise, and their success in every department of the sciences.’
Such were the inhabitants of Cordova at the time when the city was the great capital of the Mohammedan empire. Seville and Toledo yielded pre-eminence to Cordova, and men spoke in veneration of its four great wonders: the immense and gorgeous mosque, the bridge over the Guadalquivir, the city of Ez-Zahra, situated in the suburbs, and the sciences which were studied in the colleges.
When we read the ancient annals and grow absorbed by the story of Cordova’s past, we can scarcely realise that the town and its inmates were real things. The place and the people seem to belong to the realm of fairy romance; the city seems one of dreams, and the natives pass as in a pageant of the imagination. And yet we may enter the sacred mih-rab, commune with the ghosts of warrior and philosopher, and stand where Tarik stood when he wrested the prized capital from the Goths.
Tangible evidence of a superb civilisation surrounds us in Cordova. We see examples of early Moorish architecture brought to its highest artistic manifestation in the mosque. We listen in vain for the voices of teachers, the song of the singers and poets, and the call of the muezzin to devotion; but we tread in the footsteps of the long-vanished Moor, and read his story in the noble lines, chaste embellishments, and gorgeous details which his skilful hands produced.
II THE MOORISH CAPTURE
II THE MOORISH CAPTURE
Probably a city of the Carthaginians once stood upon the ground now covered by Cordova. Phœnicians, Greeks, Trojans, and Tyrians battled in their day for the rich spoil of Spain, and the armies of Carthage ravaged the whole of the country. Rome wrought the downfall of the Carthaginian dominion in Bœtica (Andalusia) and Lusitania (Spain). In A.D. 205 the Romans began to lay hands on the Iberian Peninsula, and after long strife they conquered all the land save the territory of the indomitable Basques of the rocky north.
At Corduba (Cordova) the Romans established a capital of Hispania Ulterior, and the city was one of importance and prosperity. Under Cæsar it became the chief town of Bœtica. According to Plutarch, the government of Spain was given to Julius Cæsar after his prætorship, and he ruled firmly and justly over Portugal and Andalusia. The conquering emperor resided in Corduba, and it was here that he was first attacked with epilepsy.
Beneath the rule of Rome Andalusia prospered. Roads, bridges, and aqueducts were constructed; cities were enlarged and founded, industries were developed, and the wealth of the country increased. This spell of peace and progress was broken by the conflict between Cæsar and Pompey, and Spain was the scene of some of their fiercest battles. With the decay of Roman greatness and valour, Bœtica was overrun by the hosts of the Goths from northern and eastern Europe. Like beasts of prey these hordes despoiled the Roman cities, shattering temple and amphitheatre, and laying waste fertile farms and abundant orchards. Rome yielded its last hold upon fair Bœtica; the Goths seized upon the land, and split it up into territories ruled by warriors. The invaders were ruthless in their destruction; they aimed at removing every trace of the Roman civilisation, and unfortunately they were successful in accomplishing an almost universal demolition of building, monument, and statue.
Cordova was one of the residences of the Gothic kings. It was known as Kordhobah among the Goths. There is little doubt that it was a city of considerable opulence; for when it was sacked by the Moors it yielded gorgeous robes, embroidered with gold flowers, fine chains of gold, strings of pearls, and quantities of emeralds and rubies. The sway of Ludherick, or Roderick, King of the Goths, was first menaced by Tarif the Berber. Roderick was in dispute with the Lord of Ceuta, a city on the Strait of Gibraltar, and this quarrel exposed him to the attack of the covetous territory-hunters of northern Africa.
While Roderick and the Lord of Ceuta contended, Tarif, the redoubtable leader of the Berber army, landed in Spain, with a force of one hundred cavalry and four hundred foot-soldiers. Tarif appears to have solicited reinforcements, in order to meet the Goths at better odds. A force under Tarik was then sent by Musa Ibn Noseyr, with the object of capturing Andalusia. As Tarik was crossing the sea, he beheld an apparition of Mohammed, surrounded by armed Arabs. The Prophet bade the General take cheer, saying: ‘Take courage, O Tarik, and accomplish what thou art destined to perform.’ The vision was accepted by the anxious Tarik as an omen of victory. He rallied his soldiers, and marched upon Cordova, which was the royal citadel of Roderick. The Gothic king, upon the tidings of the invasion, came from the north with his army to the capital, and commanded his officer Theodemir to advance and encounter Tarik.
Roderick was at this time striving with the sons of Witiza, the preceding monarch, for his claim to certain territories. Count Julian and Bishop Oppas sided with the princes, and a large number of the people stood to their cause. The advent of the forces of Musa served as an opportunity for the sons of Witiza to strike a blow at Roderick, their powerful enemy. They decided to join the army of Tarik, and to oppose the Gothic rule.
The combined hosts of Tarik and the sons of Witiza encamped to the south of Cordova, after taking Algeciras. Meanwhile the Moorish commander wrote to his superior for more troops, for Roderick boasted of a large and valorous following. The great encounter between the Goths and the Moors was enacted on the plain of Guadalete. Roderick came to the field in a litter, carried by two mules, and over his head was a brilliantly jewelled canopy. Aided by the disaffected princes and their adherents, Tarik made a terrific onslaught upon the ranks of the Goths. It has been recounted by Moorish historians that Tarik himself went into the thick of the fight, and killed Roderick with his sword. This account is, however, doubted by El-Makkari, who asserts that after the battle Roderick could not be found alive or dead.
The victory was mighty and complete for the Moors. Upon the news of Tarik’s success, his compatriots began to pour into the country, for the purpose of colonisation, and in the expectation of enrichment in a land which had yielded fortune to Carthaginian, Roman, and Visigoth. But Cordova was still secure in the keeping of the Christians, though Roderick had been defeated. Naturally the victorious Tarik yearned to win fresh laurels, and his design was upon the great capital of the Goths, the remaining stronghold of the routed defenders of Bœtica.
The general selected for the attack upon Cordova was Mughīth Ar-rumi. At the direction of Tarik, this warrior rode, with seven hundred horsemen, to lay siege to the city. Some of the Moorish chroniclers state that Tarik himself led the expedition against the capital; but Mughīth appears to have been the leader upon whom the conduct of this important movement fell.
Advancing within a short distance of Cordova, the force encamped in a forest, and remained cautiously in hiding. At this time many parts of Andalusia, which are now wholly bare of trees, were well wooded. The foolish destruction of the forests came later, under the Christian rule, the reason for the wholesale felling of timber being that trees harbour birds, and that birds feed upon seed and grain.
