The Great Mosque of Córdoba, built through considerable effort and expense by the Moorish Umayyad dynasty, has not in fact been used as a mosque since June 30, 1236. It was on this date that Ferdinand III of Castile took possession of the city, a day after its formal surrender ended a siege by the Christian forces. One of the first tasks addressed on this day was the consecration of the celebrated mosque as a Christian cathedral, now formally known as the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Assumption. Islamic practices have not been allowed in the Mezquita ever since, with requests to end this policy having been turned down by the Roman Catholic Church on more than one occasion. The Catholics' point of view is somewhat understandable – it's their church, and other religions should practice in their own facilities (there are functioning mosques in the area). But there are area Muslims who remain less than content with this situation.

During the Reconquista, the repurposing of mosques as Christian places of worship was a fairly common practice. The same thing was done in Seville when it was captured twelve years later. But the Seville mosque/cathedral eventually deteriorated to a point where it had to be rebuilt, while the bulk of the Córdoba mosque was retained, with the help of appropriate maintenance. And improvements were made in Córdoba, though of an unmistakably Christian character. Which we discovered as we wandered through this rather schizophrenic building. Some were on the subtle side, or architectural in nature.

Other improvements were more overt. Sprinkled liberally among the Moorish arches are many altars and Christian accents.




Another theme consistent with other cathedrals we'd visited was the fact that Catholics love their chapels. The many chapels of the Mezquita are mainly lined up along the east, west and north walls of the building. This explains why many of the doors found on the outside of the building don't go anywhere – there are chapels in the way. As in many cathedrals, most of the chapels are behind gates, probably to protect them from tourists who might poke at them. Taking pictures of them between the bars is usually possible, though.









Some chapels are more elaborate than others. One such chapel is the Chapel of St. Teresa, which is actually open to visitors (partly because it's part of the Treasury, discussed below). This chapel is octagonal, and contains a number of altars and paintings. The two most prominent works in the chapel are probably the tomb of Cardinal Salazar and the Monstrance of Arfe. The large tomb is made from both black and white marble and holds the mortal remains of Cardinal Don Pedro de Salazar, who was Bishop of Córdoba from 1686 until his death in 1706. During his lifetime he sponsored a hospital and a convent in Córdoba, and conceived the idea for the chapel in which he is buried, which is also known as the Chapel of Cardinal Salazar. The Monstrance of Arfe is impossible to miss, as it sits in the center of the room and is nearly nine feet tall. The Monstrance dates back to 1518, and no, it wasn't dedicated to someone's dog – it was created by a goldsmith named Enrique de Arfe.


The largest chapel, located in the southeast corner of the Mezquita, is the 16th Century Chapel of the Tabernacle, which could be a whole church by itself. It has three naves and several rows of pews, and every square inch of the walls and ceiling appears to be covered with artwork. We weren't able to get a very close look at any of it, though, as the gate was locked and we had to peer through the bars. Apparently a number of bishops are buried in this chapel.



Another chapel of special significance is the Royal Chapel, which is named for the fact that it once contained the remains of two kings, Alfonso XI (1311-1350) and Ferdinand IV (1285-1312). The chapel was built during the reign of Henry II (1334-79), the son of Alfonso XI (and grandson of Ferdinand IV). For those keeping track, this is the Henry of Trastámara who gained the throne by stabbing his half-brother Pedro the Cruel to death (as described in the page for Seville's Alcázar). Alfonso and Ferdinand were eventually moved to the Church of San Hipólito, elsewhere in the city, so the chapel isn't as royal as it used to be. It's not possible to enter this chapel, but there are openings through which some of it can be seen. The chapel is decorated in semi-Moorish Mudejar style, and is presided over by a figure of Córdoba conqueror Ferdinand III.

Centuries after the conquest of Córdoba, around 1516, the new bishop of Córdoba, Don Alonso Manrique de Lara, embarked on a major initiative for the Mezquita. Up until that point, Christian worship in the building had been centered in a Main Chapel which was located near its western edge. De Lara felt that the main chapel should be in the heart of the building, more toward its center. This developed into a major disagreement between the clerics (many of whom actually disagreed with their bishop) and the city council, who felt the Main Chapel should be left where it was. Things became heated, with threats of violence from one faction and of excommunication from the other going back and forth, until emperor Charles V intervened, telling everyone to shut up and to let the bishop perform the construction he deemed necessary. The construction began in 1523 and lasted until 1607, and the result has been called a "cathedral within a mosque". This "cathedral" (not really an accurate name, as the whole Mezquita is a cathedral) is visible from the outside as an apparent church protruding from the top of the otherwise mostly flat building, and on the inside as a tall, brightly-lit Renaissance church, with no architectural relationship to the Moorish arch-forest surrounding it. It's said that the emperor revisited in 1526, after construction was well underway, and expressed regret that he'd green-lighted a project that "destroyed something unique in the world", and replaced it with something commonplace (many are skeptical that this really happened, as admitting to a mistake would have been very out of character for Charles V). But regardless of one's approval or disapproval of the project, one would have to admit that a cathedral sprouting from the middle of a mosque is actually pretty unique.






De Lara didn't get a chance to micromanage the construction of his chapel, as he was named Archbishop of Seville in 1523, when construction was beginning. This forced him to relocate - maybe his superiors felt he had worn out his welcome in Córdoba. But those working on the chapel seem to have done a spectacular job, even without his help. The entire structure is quite tall and flooded with light (especially when compared to the dimness of the rest of the Mezquita), with the chapel itself housing a gigantic marble altarpiece. But the chapel isn't just a chapel. The structure also has a transept and a nave (with a dome at their intersection), giving it a Latin cross layout. Beneath the nave is a choir filled with beautifully carved wooden choir stalls and flanked by two huge dueling pipe organs. But that seems to be about it – in particular, there is nowhere to put a large congregation of worshippers, as you would normally have in a cathedral. This makes it difficult to know exactly what to call this 16th Century insertion into the Mezquita. Maybe a chapel on steroids.




The Mezquita is filled with valuable historical objects, mostly found in the chapels. But some additional ones are found in the aforementioned Treasury, which includes the Chapel of St. Teresa. Here are a few:



Having had our fill of the Mezquita, we left as we had come in, through a doorway on the west side of the courtyard. Across the street from the Mezquita we noted a building with an impressive doorway. This building turned out to be the Palace of Congresses and Exhibitions, first built as a hospital between 1512 and 1516 on the ruins of the old Umayyad fortress. Apparently there is an impressive cloister inside, but they seemed to be closed for the day.

So we went looking for somewhere to eat dinner. This turned out to be at a place down the street from the hotel, and turned out to be pretty good if I recall correctly. The pictures reveal a long, breaded thing with French fries and a plate stacked with large fried anchovies. While many people like anchovies on their pizza, Nella likes anchovies on her anchovies, so she must have been thrilled when she saw this on the menu.


After dinner it was finally getting dark outside, so we took a short stroll to see how well Córdoba did their mood lighting. Pretty well, as it turned out.


Returning to the hotel, we unpacked enough to get us through the night. We were only staying one night – the next morning we would be boarding a train to take us back northward, to the city of Toledo.