On the whole the far-famed Mezquita may be pronounced disappointing. It must always be so with the simply planned temples of Islam, when they are stripped of the innumerable lamps, the rich carpets and handsome furniture, still to be seen in them at Cairo, Constantinople, and Smyrna.
Of the magnificent Palace of the Khalifas, the wonderful domain of Az Zahara, no trace remains. It was built by a Byzantine architect on the flanks of a hill, three miles north-east of Cordova, which the khalifa at one time thought of levelling. Arab writers declare this to have been the largest palace, as of course it was the most magnificent, ever raised by the hand of man. The harem (credat Judæus) could accommodate 6,000 women, 3,790 eunuchs, and 1,500 guards. Marble appears to have been freely used in the construction, from which it would seem that the building bore little resemblance to the Alcazar of a later day. There were, of course, thousands—tens of thousands—of columns brought from Rome and Tunis, and probably from Carthage, and fine fragments of terra-cotta are still unearthed on the site. Aqueducts conducted sweet waters to every chamber in the palace, and fountains cooled the air in the luxuriantly planted gardens. We are told of the Hall of Ceremonial, with its brilliant mosaics and its ceiling of scented wood, in the centre of which was set an immense pearl, the gift of the Emperor Constantinos Porphyrogenitos. And we hear in addition of basins filled with quicksilver for the amusement of the odalisques.
This gorgeous pile owes its existence to a favourite of the Khalifa An Nasir, who at her death directed that her immense wealth should be employed in ransoming Moslem prisoners in the clutch of the Christian. The bereaved potentate sent east, west, north and south in order to execute this pious request, only to find to his joy that no such thing as a Moslem captive was anywhere to be found. The happy thought then came to him to expend the money on the erection of a palace to be named after a new favourite, Zahara, whose name it should perpetuate, and in whose society he might hope to forget the deceased. This seems to us a somewhat queer application of the legacy. The work occupied ten thousand men daily for many years, and cost during An Nasir's reign alone seven and a half millions of dineros or pieces of gold.
The palace seems to have excited, as well it might, the cupidity of neighbouring monarchs. Alfonso VI., the conqueror of Toledo, demanded it of the Amir Al Mutamed, as a residence for his queen, Doña Constancia, whose accouchement he suggested might take place in the mosque. It was the Moor's rejection of this original proposal that led to hostilities, and threw the Spanish Moslems into the arms of the terrible Almorávides. Those fierce sectaries seem to have entirely neglected Az Zahara, and under the puritanical Almohades we can easily imagine it would be suffered to decay. How little was left of it when Ferdinand took the place is shown by his referring to it merely as Cordova la Vieja (Old Cordova).
Men who lived in such comfort and luxury might be supposed to have regarded their less fortunate fellows with easy good nature and tolerance, and according to most historians the khalifas of Cordova were benevolent despots, even towards their Christian subjects. Some Spanish writers, however, paint the lot of these last in gloomy colours, though, if we accept their accounts in toto, without the least reservation, there can be no question that the lot of the Christian under the Moor was very much better than the lot of the Moor under the Christian. But that standpoint would not be that of the historians in question. They are frankly partisans. The Mohammedans, they would argue, deserved what they got, because they worshipped the false Prophet; the Christians were in the right. It is more difficult to understand their vehement condemnation of the Bishop Recafred, because he forbade his flock to seek voluntary martyrdom by publicly cursing Mohammed. To curse the Arabian Prophet or anyone else is nowhere laid down as a Christian's duty, and on merely prudential grounds the prelate was surely justified in dissuading his people from pursuing a course which must finally have resulted in their complete extermination. Probably in disgust at the ingratitude and imbecility of his flock, Recafred embraced the creed of Islam, and died cursed and abominated by the people whose utter extinction he had averted. The history of the martyrs of Cordova is a curious chapter in the annals of religion.
It was recently remarked of Italy that there was not enough faith to generate a heresy, and by a parity of reasoning the lamp of faith must have burnt very brightly in the Christian community of Cordova. The Saracen authorities were bewildered by the multitude of sects and factions which claimed to represent the Church of Christ, and to administer its temporalities. Councils of the Christian prelates were frequently convoked by the khalifas, but by the defeated side their decisions were always branded as schismatical or heretical. Religious debate is the favourite occupation of a decaying State, and the Mohammedans themselves had their divisions. The doctors of the law, who congregated in a special quarter of the capital, constituted themselves the critics of their rulers and of public morals. They considered culture and luxury incompatible with morality, and preached the creed of the Uncomfortable and the Unlovely with the zest of an English Puritan. One day there arose a sovereign (Hakem) more sensitive of censure than his predecessors. He burnt out the Puritan quarter and forced the zealots to take refuge in distant parts where their peculiar talents were more in demand.