The mosque, or rather its minaret, has best withstood the blows from man's hand and the destroying ravages of time. Towering up to one hundred twenty-five feet, it is of an architectural type quite unique in the world of Moslem Africa. Whereas minarets have usually an entrance only from the court of the mosque, this one at Mansura has an opening through the outer face, which served at the same time as an entrance to the mosque itself. A very pleasing doorway, framed in sculptured marble, is still in a good state of preservation. I had a feeling that the marble was of later date than the other construction, yet I was not quite sure of it.
This minaret was destroyed in a very strange manner, appearing as though a stroke of lightning had cleanly split it from top to bottom. From the court of the mosque all of the interior is visible, showing remnants of the stairs up which the sultan, Abu'l Hasen, rode on horseback to the top of the tower and, as a simple muezzin, summoned the Faithful to prayer. This extraordinary crumbling away of just half the minaret gave rise to a legend told in the neighboring villages, which Guiter wrote down in its purest form from the text of the Arabian scholar, El-Hadj Sadok.
According to this legend the sultan ordered two competing architects, a Moor and a Jew, to submit plans for the minaret. When the sultan found their drawings equally beautiful, he assigned to the Moor the construction of the half of the minaret facing the court of the mosque and to the Jew the half facing outward. The joint task was finished and elicited general praise. A
