The militarist Spaniards had no time to devote to trade, the cultivation of the vegas, and the extension of learning. Buildings which had been the joy of the Moors were permitted to crumble, or were pulled down to supply material for the erection of squalid dwellings. Grim ruin descended upon fair Cordova; melancholy decay succeeded its long era of growth and prosperity. The admirable irrigation system, which had made the meadows lush and the land fecund, was left unused, and the vineyards and plots were neglected. Briars and weeds gained supremacy in the fertile valley; the earth became impoverished and barren. The beautiful horses of Arab breed, which were reared by the Moors, deteriorated in stamina and grace, and degenerate cattle roamed the plains by the Guadalquivir. Forests planted by the makers of Cordova were felled; the country was rendered bare of foliage and shade.
In the seventeenth century the population of the city had been reduced to about seventy thousand inhabitants, and the number of its residents steadily dwindled after the expulsion of the Moors. There are now about fifty thousand people in Cordova. In the tenth century three hundred thousand persons dwelt in the city and its surroundings.
The Mezquita, the bridge, the mosque of Almanzor and the ruins of the Alcazar stand as eloquent examples of the Cordova of Almanzor: not a stone survives of the luxurious palaces, whose names suggest Oriental splendour and the joy of life. We can but imagine the charm of the Palace of Contentment and the Palace of the Diadem, and the loveliness of the scented gardens that delighted sultans and sultanas, and the sages and the poets of the far-famed ‘Bride of Andalusia.’
Hushed is the voice of the muezzin: no longer can men sit entranced at the strains of the musicians, or listen to the recitals of the doctors and the poets. But the same notes of the nightingale drift on the perfumed breeze of evening, and the hawks still sail and soar above the minaret. And in the Court of Oranges, girls of erect and Moorish mien bear Oriental pitchers on their heads, as they resort to the fountain for water; while through the open door of the Mezquita one may scent the incense, and see the tangled vista of Arabic arches; or, standing upon the many-arched bridge, watch the selfsame umber river which legions upon legions of dusky warriors crossed to victory.
Thus Cordova, though in a sense dead, still lives and speaks. Its stones are vividly reminiscent of the days of the Moors; the atmosphere is mysteriously impressive, and the features of its natives have still the Arab cast, while in their customs and their speech traces of the Moor survive.
With the triumph of San Fernando came the steady disintegration of the high civilisation of Cordova, and its history from the day of victory onwards is one both mournful and instructive. The expulsion of the Arab artisans was an error of policy which the more intelligent Cordovese quickly recognised, for soon after the restoration of the city into the hands of the Spanish sovereigns, many of the inhabitants proposed to request the king to permit six per cent. of the Moors to remain in Cordova. This petition was, however, lightly regarded by the Governor, and it does not appear to have come under the attention of Ferdinand. Later on, the citizens, finding that trade was rapidly declining, begged that a few aged Moors might be allowed to stay in the city, and to ply their trade of harness-makers.
The neglect of the staple industries of Cordova after the Christian reconstruction is an object-lesson upon the paralysis of the arts and crafts which characterises the Castilian influence during this period. It seems almost incredible that the Spaniards had forgotten the art of harness-making, or that the natives of Cordova refused to soil their fingers in any sort of labour. But what other inferences can be drawn from the proposed petitions that a small number of the Moriscos might be retained as mechanics? It appears evident that the only occupations deemed fitting for an Andalusian of that day were ecclesiastic or military. There was only the choice between the church and the army.
An observant traveller, the Chevalier de Bourgoanne, who made a tour of Spain in 1797, writes of the melancholy decay of Cordova. ‘In so fine a climate,’ says the Chevalier, ‘in midst of so many sources of prosperity, it (Cordova) contains no more than 35,000 inhabitants. Formerly celebrated for its manufactories of silks, fine cloths, etc., it has now no other industrious occupations but a few manufactories of ribbons, galoons, hats and baize.’
IV
THE BUILDING OF THE MOSQUE
When Abd-er-Rahman I. seized upon the citadel of the Gothic Christian kings, he found the Cordovese split up into various sects, such as the Gnostics, Priscillianists, Donatists, and Luciferians. These cults were, however, united in their detestation of the new creed of the East, which the victors sought to impose upon them. It is quite clear from the records of the more impartial Spanish historians, that the Sultan was a man of tolerant mould and a respecter of justice. His ambition was to erect a temple, which would rival in magnificence those of Baghdad, Jerusalem, and Damascus, and approach in sanctity to the fane of Mecca itself.