Toledo: an historical and descriptive account of the "City of generations"

by Albert Frederick Calvert

The exterior of this most interesting building is unpromising. It is thus described by Mr. Street: “The exterior face of the walls is built of brick and rough stone. The lower part of the side wall is arcaded with three round arches, within the centre of which is a round horseshoe arch for a doorway; above is a continuous sunk arcade of cusped arches, within which are window openings with round horse-shoe heads. The lower part of the walls is cut with single courses of brick, alternating with rough stonework; the piers and arches of brick, with projecting labels and strings also of unmoulded brick. The arches of the upper windows are built with red and green bricks alternated.” Restorations carried out in 1899 brought to light a most interesting pierced frieze running round the north-eastern façade, and serving as a sort of ventilator. Above was deciphered the following inscription in Arabic characters: “In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful. This mosque was rebuilt ... the renewal of its upper part, proposing to render it more beautiful, and [the restoration] was finished, with the help of God, under the direction of Musa Ibn Ali, the architect, and of Saada. It was completed in the Muharram of the year 370” [July 17, 979, to August 15, 980 A.D.] The whole façade of the edifice has been much disfigured by successive reconstructions, coatings of plaster, &c., and has undergone much more serious transformation than the interior.

Entering when the eyes have become accustomed to the obscurity, we make out the details of a very small and curious structure. Again to quote Mr. Street, the nave is only “21 ft. 7¼ in. by 20 ft. 2 in., and this space is subdivided into nine compartments by four very low circular columns, which are about a foot in diameter. Their capitals are all different. The arches, of which four spring from each capital, are all of the round horseshoe form; above them is a string-course, and all the intermediate walls are carried up to the same height as the main walls. They are all pierced above the arches with arcades of varied design, generally cusped in very Moorish fashion, and supported on shafts; and above these each of the nine divisions is crowned with a little vault, formed by intersecting cusped ribs, thrown in the most fantastic way across each other, and varied in each compartment. The scale of the whole work is so diminutive that it is difficult, no doubt, to understand how so much is done in so small a space; but looking to the early date of the work it is impossible not to feel very great respect for the workmen who built it, and for the ingenious intricacy which has made their work look so much larger and important than it really is.” After the Reconquest, the loftier portion of the temple, consisting of apse and transept, and containing the altar, was added. Looking closer into the details of the Moorish portion, one is struck by the contrast presented by rude shafts and capitals, evidently of Visigothic workmanship, with the general elegance and delicacy of the whole. On making a careful study of these features, it is difficult to resist the conclusion (supported, indeed, by tradition) that they formed part of an earlier and less skilfully constructed mosque, itself merely a restoration or adaptation of a Visigothic church. Señor Amador de los Rios is of opinion that the existing structure constituted only the inner portion or maksurah of the temple, and believes that the southern wall is the only part of the outer or enclosing enceinte remaining. In this he finds traces of the kiblah or sanctuary, membar, and other features peculiar to Mohammedan worship. The mosque consisted originally, in all probability, in addition to the fabric we now see, of naves extending on each side of those still standing, from north-east to south-west. Even thus the mosque must have been very small. The exact configuration and plan of the original building is still a matter of great perplexity to archæologists, and a great many more discoveries remain to be made before anything can be positively stated under this head.

The newer, or Christian, portion of the mosque contains some remarkable mural paintings, discovered in 1871. They date from about the close of the twelfth century, and exhibit pronounced Byzantine influence. It seems satisfactorily established that two of the four female figures represent Saints Eulalia and Martiana; and the other two, in all probability, the martyrs Leocadia and Obdulia. The fifth figure—that of a man—represents a prelate. It may be, as Mr. Leonard Williams thinks, the Archbishop Bernardo, who figures largely in the annals of the Reconquest; or the prelate’s patron saint. It is not to that archbishop, however, but to one of his successors—possibly Don Gonzalo Perez (1182-1193)—that the remodelling of the building into a Christian place of worship should be ascribed.

This intensely interesting monument is the subject of several curious and entertaining legends. In the days of Athanagild (and it is not impossible, as we know, that the church may have existed at that time) a crucifix, greatly venerated by the citizens, hung over the door. Two evil-minded Jews, Sacao and Abishai by name, to express their hatred for Christianity, drove a lance into the side of the figure. Instantly blood gushed forth. The terrified Israelites hid the miraculous object in their own home, but were traced by the stains of blood, and (it is hardly necessary to add) torn to pieces. This irritated their co-religionists, who, to avenge them, poisoned the feet of the statue. This resulted in a second miracle, for when a devout woman was about to kiss the feet, they were withdrawn—to the discovery and undoing, once more, of the villainous Jews. The right foot of the image remains withdrawn to the present day, that all men may know the truth of the story.

Now we come to the explanation of the name “Cristo de la Luz.” When the Moors were about to take the city, the Christians walled up the miraculous crucifix, with a lamp burning before it. Three hundred and seventy years passed; and on the glorious May 25, 1085, Alfonso VI. and his Christian chivalry came riding into reconquered Toledo. Among the cavaliers was the Cid, Ruy Diaz de Bivar. The warrior’s horse, on passing the mosque, stumbled, or, as others have it, knelt. With preternatural acuteness, the Cid suspected some unusual circumstance, and had the adjacent wall broken down. Then was discovered the crucifix with the lamp still burning brightly, as when placed there nearly four centuries before. The mosque was reconsecrated on the spot; and the King left his shield as a memento. There it hangs to-day, above the central arch, bearing a white cross on a crimson ground. Whether it is authentic or not, we cannot say, but below it one may read: Esto es el escudo que dejo en esta ermita el Rey Don Alfonso VI., cuando ganó á Toledo y se dijo aqui la primera misa.

The Cristo de la Luz is no longer a church, and is now classed among the national monuments of Spain.

Hardly less interesting, but very far from being as well known, is the ancient mosque in the Calle de las Tornerias. It is contained in the upper part of the private houses numbered 27, 29, and 31. The mosque having been built against a steep incline, it was raised on a substructure of galleries, which now form the ground floor of the modern houses. The mosque was never converted to Christian uses, and retains its original physiognomy almost unimpaired. In the opinion of Spanish archæologists, it belongs to the same period as the Cristo de la Luz; but Street does not share this view, and thinks it a later work. Like the other mosque, it is built more or less in the form of a square, and has likewise Visigothic columns and capitals, pointing to the existence of a previous structure. Here, also, we find the horseshoe arch and the cupola, and evidences of the position of the kiblah. Recent restorations have shown that the walls are composed of the finest brickwork, unsurpassed for smoothness and regularity. But so far no trace has been revealed of any texts from the Koran, or inscription commemorating the architect’s name, such as were usual in the Mohammedan temples of Spain.

The Puerta Antigua de Bisagra, or ancient gate of Bisagra—not to be confounded with the new gate of the same name built by Charles V.—is dilapidated and falling to pieces. In Moorish times it was the principal entrance to the city. The name was probably originally Bib-Sahla. It dates from about the beginning of the tenth century, but to the primitive structure only the foundations of the gate belong. A reconstruction seems to have been carried out at the time of the Reconquest, and to that epoch the arch, or gate, properly speaking, may be assigned. The upper portion of the time-worn fabric belongs to a still later period. This is the only one remaining of the fifteen gates with which the walls of Toledo appear to have been furnished during the Mohammedan occupation.

The celebrated Puente de Alcantara, as it exists to-day, must be regarded as the work of the Christians. It took the place of a structure, built or restored by the Musulmans, and regarded by the writers of their time and nation as one of the wonders of Spain. According to an inscription on the bridge tower, the work dated from the year 997 A.D., and was built by “Alif, son of Mohammed Al Ameri, Governor of Toledo, under the great Wizir, Al Mansûr.” With it, no doubt, were incorporated the remains of previous Gothic and Roman constructions. It was almost entirely swept away in a great flood in the year 1258, after having already undergone extensive repairs and restorations since the Reconquest. Thus we may conclude that there can be few if any traces of the Moorish bridge in the actual Puente de Alcantara. On the other side of the town there was probably a wooden bridge or bridge of boats, where the Puente de San Martin now spans the river. A little below it is a brick tower, with open arches, the horseshoe curve of which, and other features, bespeak its Moorish origin. Legend places here the incident of the Bath of Florinda. In later times the work was believed to be the remains of a bridge. But an Arabic inscription, recently redeciphered and translated, goes to prove that the tower formed part of a very different monument: “In the Name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! Oh, men, believe that the promises of God are certain and let not yourselves be seduced by the flattery of the world, nor be lured away from God by the deceits of the Evil One! This is the tomb of Hosàm (?)-ben-Abd ... [He confessed that there is no other God but] God. He died [may God have mercy on him] ... the year eight ... and four hundred.” The Baños de la Cava may now be safely regarded as a Musulman sepulchral monument of the fifth century after the Hegira.

We have now briefly considered the only monuments of interest to any but the most ardent archæologists that can be ascribed, so far as their general structure is concerned, to the Moslem lords of Toledo. Admitting that the most important buildings of that time have long since disappeared, it remains clear that the city could never have presented the Oriental aspect of the Andalusian seats of Islam.