Such was the rise, the progress, the culmination of architectural construction and embellishment in the states of Mohammedan Spain. The modifications—dependent upon economic conditions, upon wide and varied acquaintance with the masterpieces of other races, upon the development of more correct conceptions of the harmonious and the beautiful—which were undergone by this branch of the arts are more pronounced than is usually noticeable in the material and intellectual progress of a people from a state of barbarism to the highest point in the scale of civilization. The character of the Arab is, however, anomalous, independent of precedent, and apparently subject to few of those laws whose operation prescribes the career and fixes the ultimate fate of nations. The simplicity of form and comparative absence of decoration characteristic of a nomadic race are conspicuous in its first great architectural achievement,—a temple dedicated to the unity of God. In glaring contrast appears the culminating effort of its labors, a palace reared for the purposes of voluptuous indulgence, where even the principles of durable construction were apparently sacrificed to the pomp and prodigality of excessive adornment, a precursor of impending dissolution, an unmistakable indication of decadence. Thus the Arabs, like all races that preceded them, have recorded their deeds in the forms and inscriptions of their architectural monuments; permanent registers of the grandeur and depth of religious sentiment; suggestive memorials of proficiency in the arts of peace; potent manifestations of national genius, energy, and culture.
The artistic tastes of the Moslems, always largely controlled by pious considerations, were displayed, not only in the construction of splendid edifices, but in the embellishment of their most common accessories. The well-curbs, cylinders of marble or of enamelled pottery, girdled with raised inscriptions in gold and originally placed in court-yards, are examples of the persistence of Oriental tradition as well as of the reverence with which the Arab regarded that element which was the most precious treasure of the Desert.
The use of water for the purposes of ceremonial lustration is a custom of unknown antiquity. It was constantly employed in the sacerdotal mysteries of Egypt, India, Persia. The inhabitants of those countries venerated it as representing an active force in their systems of cosmogony. The Egyptians worshipped the Nile; the Hindus still sacrifice to the Ganges. By the former the rare geological formation of water crystals was regarded with peculiar reverence, because the drops thus mysteriously inclosed in their transparent envelope were believed to be spirits imprisoned by divine agency. In the traditions of Phœnicia the sacredness of springs was continually referred to; the Greeks assigned to each element a place in Olympus; the superstitious Roman sculptured his well-curbs with scenes of mythology or with graceful garlands of flowers. No nation of antiquity, however, ascribed such extraordinary importance to the divine virtues of water as the Hebrews. In the time of Abraham wells were regarded as of peculiar sanctity. Their locality confirmed the sacredness and obligation of an oath; it was a token of alliance, a place of reconciliation for enemies, a symbol which ratified and enforced the validity of contracts. The only permanent characteristic recognized by the nomadic Israelite was the possession of a well, which established the residence and station of his tribe.
The sacred character which invested the sources of water was intensified by the climatic conditions which magnified its importance and increased its value. It is not strange that the heat and drought of the Desert should have imparted to that indispensable fluid some of the beneficent attributes of Divine Power. The unsettled state of tribal existence is attributable solely to its scarcity. Its profusion was synonymous with fertility, prosperity, abundance. Its prominence, actual and symbolic, in the Jewish religious system constantly recurs in the Bible. The Hebrews made use of it on every important occasion, in every ceremony which called for the exercise of its mysterious virtues. They sprinkled it over the victims of sacrifice. They purified themselves with it before entering the precincts of the Temple. The veneration with which they regarded its ceremonial usage was transmitted to Christianity, which has consecrated its application as a rite indispensable to salvation. The dispersion of the Jews by the Romans familiarized every nation that received them with their customs, and not a few adopted the latter after more or less modification. Many of the fugitives settled in Yemen and other parts of Arabia, where their influence subsequently played an important rôle in the formation of the creed of Mohammed, whose doctrines are so largely of Hebrew and Christian derivation. From them the Arabs absorbed many traditions centuries old, which had been transmitted through numerous nations to the credulous Jews, who thus became the depositaries of all.
In the extensive and varied domain of the industrial and the useful arts, Hispano-Arab genius developed no less grace and dexterity than in the conspicuous and permanent creations of the architect. The effect of Koranic restrictions was to impede all advance until the artisan evaded or openly disregarded them. To the last, however, the universal prevalence of that religious sentiment, which was at once the incentive and the power of Islamism and inspired the skill that designed even the most homely articles of domestic use, as well as the exquisite ornaments of the palace, was disclosed by all the products of Arabian industry. Texts from the Koran were carved upon the wooden stamps used by the baker. They formed the bit of the key that unlocked the great door of the castle. On swords and knives, on vases and thimbles, on garments and banners, on the massive bracelets of the rich, on the rudely fashioned but highly treasured amulets of the poor, were engraved or embroidered legends of pious origin and significance. These objects have for the greater part disappeared. The prejudice fostered by centuries of unrelenting hostility, the aversion entertained by the ministers of an antagonistic and triumphant faith, have, as far as human diligence could accomplish it, destroyed all the smaller and more inconspicuous evidences of Moorish civilization. The durability of their materials, the excellence of their workmanship, and the multiplicity of uses to which these articles were destined, would imply that vast numbers of them would still be met with, especially in the old Moslem provinces of Spain. But such is not the case. The hatred of the Spaniard for everything Mohammedan extended even to the inanimate objects on which his vanquished enemies had exercised their skill, and which were at once suggestive of heresy and, indirectly, of his own ignorance and mechanical incapacity. It was the Christian custodians of the Mosque of Cordova who broke to pieces its magnificent pulpit and lectern for the jewels and ivory they contained; it was Ximenes, one of the greatest scholars of his time, who raised in the square of Granada the funeral pyre of Arabic literature; it was Philip II., the most powerful of European sovereigns and the worthy representative of his nation and his age, who ordered every stone in Toledo which bore an Arabic inscription to be destroyed. Much perished by the African invasions and the bloody seditions which followed them. Many articles of gold and silver, far more precious for their workmanship than for their intrinsic value, were consigned by the ignorant and the avaricious to the blow-pipe and the crucible. In the face of such indiscriminate and systematic destruction, whose spirit even massive edifices have not been able to withstand, it is not strange that so few of the minor objects of general utility have survived. Indeed, the work of ruin has been so thorough that there are now many educated persons in Spain who refuse to credit the artistic ability of the Saracens, on account of the dearth of evidence produced by the instrumentality of their own ancestors.
Chief among the branches of mechanical industry in which the Spanish Moors excelled was the treatment of metals. The casting of bronze, especially in large pieces,—an art requiring the greatest skill even in our day,—they understood to perfection. The specimens which have been preserved exhibit a smoothness unusual in works of this description, and reveal no subsequent finish with the burin or the file. Not only statuary, but utensils for worship as well as for domestic use—lamps, censers, vases, knives, cups, and hundreds of other articles—were produced by this convenient process. Their ornamentation, especially when they were destined for the service of the mosque, was rich and graceful; interlaced with the arabesques were pious mottoes and inscriptions; in some the parts in relief were gilded. An exquisite Arab vase, which tradition referred to the Crusades, but which most probably derived its origin from the Mussulmans of Spain, was for several centuries used in the baptismal ceremony of the infant princes of France.
The complete destruction of portable objects of the Mohammedan period during the centuries of ignorance and fanaticism which followed the Reconquest may be inferred from the non-existence of Moorish lamps, necessarily one of the most common utensils of both temple and habitation. It is a matter of historic record that in the Great Mosque of Cordova were suspended nearly two thousand; and, as there were seven hundred other edifices devoted to the worship of Islam in the Saracen metropolis, the number in use in that city was obviously immense, and the total amount throughout the empire must have been incalculable. And yet, of all these, not one is known to have survived uninjured. The so-called lamp of the Alhambra, which was captured at the taking of Oran and is supposed to have belonged to the mosque of that palace, is the only remaining example of this branch of Arab art once so flourishing, but which, with innumerable others, disappeared forever with the Castilian occupation. Their connection with the detested worship of Mohammed no doubt supplied the motive for this thorough annihilation.
Arabic lamps were of various metals, gold, silver, copper, or bronze. They contained two or more lights, placed one above the other, their rays being tempered by a polygonal screen, whose sides presented different patterns in arabesques cast or carved in the metal, producing a charming effect from the illumination within. From the base usually hung four spheres of open-work formed of lotus or palm leaves and pomegranates, and which exhibited verses of poetry or Koranic legends,—reminiscences of the “knops and flowers” which were suspended from each branch of the sacred candlestick in the Hebrew Tabernacle. In addition to metals, glass of different colors was frequently employed in these works of art, whose exquisite finish constituted their greatest value. The materials were almost always obtained from the spoil of Christian churches,—from the gold and silver vessels of the altar, from the candelabra and from the bells,—trophies which gratified the piety of the Moslem, and contributed in no small degree to the pride and exultation of victory.
Accident or good fortune has preserved for the examination of posterity a few of the numerous images which the Arab artists cast in bronze. Among them are a lion and a gazelle, whose history cannot be traced, but which the researches of archæology have assigned to one of the sumptuous palaces which adorned the suburbs of Cordova. These rare and interesting evidences of Moslem dexterity no doubt originally formed part of a fountain; they belong to the most advanced period of the khalifate; the forms are somewhat grotesque, but the mechanical execution is not inferior in delicacy to that of the best examples of the present age. Cufic legends are inscribed upon them, and there are indications that their eyes were formed of precious stones, as was the custom in Moorish Spain.
The frequent recurrence of the lion among the sculptures of Moslem civilization attests the symbolic importance with which that animal was regarded by those whose religion prohibited the representation of every species of animal life. In Arabic tradition that royal beast had acquired an important, almost a sacred, significance. With the eagle, it had been assigned a place in the eighth heaven of the Mohammedan faith. From the earliest ages its strength and ferocity had awakened the awe of the superstitious and imperfectly protected tribes of the Desert. It was recognized as the representative of power; the emblem of energy, nobility, and courage. With the Spanish Arabs, these sentiments of fear and respect were intensified by considerations of policy, custom, and tradition. In the enchanting gardens of palaces reared by the greatest khalifs stood bronze statues of lions with eyes of rubies and emeralds. They were the supporters of the arms of the Nazerite kings. Their marble effigies guarded the entrance to the royal mint. In the famous court of the Alhambra, they replaced the twelve oxen that sustained the brazen laver of Solomon, of which the fountain of that palace is an imitation. The Moslem princes of the Peninsula gloried in the title of “Lion of Battle.” Arabic tradition was in time confirmed and strengthened by the influx of Persian ideas through constant intercourse with the Orient, where the lion was a symbol of the Principle of Good.