PILGRIMS TO SANTIAGO
St. James’s Road--The legend of St. James--Landing at Padron--Abbot
Ildefred--Alfonso el Casto--The town of Santiago--Diego
Gelmirez--The _Historia Compostelana_--Another famous
manuscript--The Codex of Calistus II.--Basque words--Origin of the
Basques--Molina’s list of pilgrims--In the cathedral--Hymn of the
Flemings--Relics of St. James--The scallop shell--Images of St.
James--Jet workers--Money-changers--St. Bridget--Philip II--William
of Rubruquis--Queen Matilda--An irreparable loss--A book on
Galicia--Why the pilgrims wear a scallop shell--Crowding of
pilgrims to the Mass--Beds in the cathedral--Incense in Christian
worship--The great censer--Early references to the
_botafumeiro_--The censer swings too far--Candlemas--An impressive
ceremony--The _Chirimias_--English pilgrims to Santiago--An English
hospital--The monastery of Sobrado
“The mediæval Spanish roads were the work of the clergy,” wrote Ford,
“and the long-bearded monks, here as elsewhere, were the pioneers of
civilisation.... In other provinces of Spain, the star-paved milky way
in the heavens is called _El Camino de Santiago_ (“the road of St.
James”); but the Galicians, who know what their roads really are,
namely, the worst on earth, call the milky way _El Camino de Jerusalem_
(“the road to Jerusalem”).” And here is a passage that we find among the
poetic writings of Daudet: A shepherdess has asked a young shepherd if
he knows the names of all the stars, and he begins his reply with, “Why,
yes, mistress. Look, straight above our heads. That is St. James’s Road.
It runs from France straight over Spain. It was St. James of Galicia who
traced it there, to show the brave Charlemagne his way when he was
making war upon the Saracens.”
The actual road which brought pilgrims and troubadours from France,
across northern Spain to the town of Santiago in Galicia, was known as
_el camino francés_, or the French Road. Ford says that the Spaniards
made Santiago a centre for their pilgrimages, because, as every one
knows, the Pope had forbidden them to take part in the Crusades as long
as they had infidels on their own soil.
The legend of how St. James came to be the patron saint of Spain--the
legend as it is authorised by the Catholic Church in the twentieth
century, is as follows:--St. James, eleven years after the crucifixion
of Christ, was decapitated by the order of King Herod, because he
preached the Gospel to the Jews. The disciples took possession of his
holy body by night, and, accompanied by the Angel of the Lord, arrived
at Joppa, on the seashore. While they were hesitating as to what they
should do next, a ship, provided with all that they could require during
a long voyage, appeared before them. The disciples, filled with joy,
entered the ship, and, singing hymns of praise to God, sailed with
favourable breezes and a calm voyage, till they came to the harbour of
Iria, on the Gallegan coast. There, full of happiness, they sang a psalm
of David.
Having landed near what is now the town of Padron, the disciples
deposited the holy body in a little enclosure, which is venerated to
this day under the name of Libredon--about eight miles distant from the
town of Iria. There they found a great stone idol that had been erected
by the pagans,--this they hacked to pieces with the aid of some iron
tools they had discovered in a cave close by. Having reduced the idol to
dust, they made of it a very firm cement, and with this they made a
stone (or marble) sepulchre, and a little oratory supported by arches.
Having enclosed the holy body in the sepulchre and placed it in the
oratory, they built over it a tiny church with an altar for the use of
the people of the neighbourhood. Then they sang two more psalms (which
are still given in the guide-books). The people of the place were very
soon converted to the true faith through the preaching of the disciples,
and it was at length decided that two of them, Athanasius and
Theodosius, should remain at Iria to watch over the sepulchre of St.
James and strengthen the new converts in their new religion, while the
rest departed to carry the Gospel to other parts of Spain. Athanasius
and Theodosius kept reverent watch over the sepulchre, and commanded
their converts that after their death they two should be buried one on
either side of St. James. In due time they died peacefully and happily,
and entered into heaven. Later on a small community of monks, twelve in
all, established itself near the spot; they were presided over by the
venerable Abbot Ildefred, and it was their business to offer up solemn
prayers to the glorious apostle to whom Spain owes her faith, and by
whose valiant championship that nation considers itself to have been
freed from the Mussalman yoke.
For eight hundred years the holy body remained where the disciples had
placed it, forgotten by all. Then in the year 812 “some men of
authority” went to Teodomirus, who was then bishop of Iria Flavia
(Padron), and informed him that they had seen on many occasions strange
lights flickering at night-time in a neighbouring wood, and angels
hovering near them. The bishop hurried to the spot indicated, and,
seeing the lights with his own eyes, at once ordered the wood to be
carefully searched. Very soon, amongst the trees, a little oratory was
discovered, and in it a marble sarcophagus. The king, Alfonso _el Casto_
(Alfonso II.) was at once informed of the marvellous discovery; he came
in person to see the sepulchre, and immediately decided to transfer the
Episcopal See from Iria to this sacred spot, which henceforth bore the
name of Compostela (from _campos_ “a field,” and _stella_ “a star”). A
solemn procession of bishops, priests, nobles, and citizens inaugurated
the foundation of the new city (which became known to all the Spanish
world as Santiago de Compostela). This (the translation of the Episcopal
See) took place, we are told, in the reign of Charlemagne. From that
moment “Spanish heroism sought, as was natural, in the sepulchre of the
holy Apostle the strength and enthusiasm which saved Europe from the
barbarism of Islam, and the roads leading to Santiago were the wide
highways that were trodden by nobility and virtue, by science and
valour, during the centuries of the Reconquest.”
Santiago soon became one of the most celebrated cities of Christendom.
The modest church built by Alfonso _el Casto_ was too small to
accommodate the pilgrims who flocked to it, so it was replaced by a
beautiful cathedral. The whole Christian world is said to have
contributed towards the building of this edifice, pious alms poured in
from every part of Europe, the pilgrims themselves took part, with their
own hands, in the laying of its stones,--young men and old, women of all
ages, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, popes and prelates, emperors
and kings, all lent their aid.
Diego Gelmirez was at that time the prelate of Santiago. This remarkable
man is famed not only for the zeal with which he superintended the
building of the cathedral, but also for the many agricultural
improvements which he introduced and encouraged, and for the works of
art with which he beautified the city; he also erected many churches,
both within and without it, among which may be noted that of Sar, that
of Conjo, and that of St. Susanna. He performed the part of bishop and
mayor combined in one. So much did literature flourish under his
patronage, that he has been called “the Mæcenas of Galicia.” The
_Historia Compostelana_, preserved in the archives of the cathedral,
from which I have taken my account of the finding of St. James, was
written at his bidding. The first part of it is the work of two authors,
and the last of one. The first two were chosen by Gelmirez as the most
learned of his canons, Don Munio (or Nunio) a Spaniard, and Don Hugo a
Frenchman by birth. Both, according to Florez, had the full confidence
of the prelate, who confided to them without reserve his most important
secrets. Gelmirez set them to work upon this book as soon as he became
bishop, in 1100. In 1112, both canons became bishops in their turn,
Munio of Mondoñedo, and Hugo of Porto. After their departure from
Santiago the work of writing the book was carried on by Girardo. The
work is without doubt one of the most precious literary monuments of the
twelfth century. Florez brought it before the public after it had lain
dead for six hundred years, by publishing it in his _España Sagrada_.
In the _Historia Compostelana_ there is no allusion to St. James beyond
the finding of the sepulchre in the first chapter, and some have thought
this fact a proof that the legend about the apostle has no foundation,
but Florez points out that this book was written solely to perpetuate
the memory of Gelmirez, as the title, _Registro del Venerable Obispo_,
shows. The early history of Santiago is only touched upon in the first
three chapters, and the work does not pretend to be a church register.
Another famous manuscript preserved in the archives of Santiago
Cathedral since the twelfth century is the priceless Codex of Calistus
II., the date of which is supposed to be a few years later than that of
the _Historia Compostelana_ (about 1140). This document, of which the
capitals are illuminated, contains some curious miniatures, one having
for its subject the departure of Charlemagne for Spain. Here there is a
description of the principal roads by which pilgrims were wont to reach
Santiago. Pope Calistus II. was one of the most illustrious of all the
pilgrims who visited Santiago. He undertook the pilgrimage when he was
an archbishop in France, about 1109. There are in existence three
examples of this manuscript which bears his name: one is in the Royal
Library at Madrid, and another, preserved in one of the other libraries,
is a Gallegan translation dating from the first half of the fifteenth
century. At the end of the twelfth century there was in existence a
French translation.
In the year 1173, Arnaldo del Monte, a monk of the celebrated monastery
of Ripoll in the province of Gerona, went on a pilgrimage to Santiago.
He handled, described, and made extracts from the precious Codex; his
dedication of it is still preserved in the library of Ripoll, and there
is also said to be a copy in the Paris library.
The Codex of Calistus III., supposed to have been partly written by his
chancellor, Aimerico Picard, is in five books. The first contains four
homilies of Calistus on the three great festivals of Santiago, and the
Mass, with a dramatic liturgy set to music composed by Fulbert de
Chartres, retouched by the hand of Calistus or some other personage;
some of the writings of Augustine, Ambrose, Jerome, and, we are told, of
Bede, _per totum annum legenda_. The second contains “The Miracles of
the Apostles”; the third gives an account of the translation of St.
James from Jerusalem to Spain; the fourth, “How Charlemagne brought
Spain under the yoke of Christ”; and the fifth, various writings.
According to the written testimony of Pope Calistus II., the most
wonderful cures were effected at the shrine of St. James. “The sick come
and are cured, the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the dumb
speak, the possessed are set free, the sad find consolation, and, what
is more important, the prayers of the faithful reach to heaven, the
heavy weight of sins is removed, the chains of sin are broken, thither
come all the nations of the earth,” and here follows a list of some
eighty tribes and nations. These pilgrims travelled across Europe in
companies, and in companies they placed themselves beside the sepulchre,
the Italians on this side, the Germans on that, as the case might be;
every one holding a wax taper is his hand, there they remained to
worship the whole night long, and the light from the innumerable tapers
made the night like day. Some sang to the accompaniment of the cithara,
others to that of the lyre, some to the timbrel, others the flute,
others to the fife, others to the trumpet, others to the harp, others to
the viola, others to the British and Welsh harp and crouth, others to
the psaltery, and others to many other musical instruments. Some weep
for their sins, some read psalms, and some give alms to the priests.
There does not exist a language or a dialect that is not heard in that
cathedral. If any one enters sad, he goes out happy; there is celebrated
one continuous festival, people come and go, but the service is not
interrupted by day or by night. The doors of the sacred edifice are
never closed, lamps and tapers fill it at midnight with the splendour of
midday. Thither all wend their way, rich and poor, prince and peasant,
governor and abbot. Some travel at their own expense; others depend upon
charity. Some come with chains for the mortification of their flesh;
others, like the Greeks, with the sign of the cross in their hands. Some
carry in their hands iron and lead for the building of the basilica of
the Apostle. Many whom the Apostle has delivered from prison carry with
them their manacles and the bolts of their prison doors, and do penance
for their sins.
“The many thousands of miracles,” says Calistus, “that were worked daily
through the intercession of the Apostle in the happy city of his
glorious tomb increased the legions of pilgrims, who carried back with
them to the utmost confines of the world the name of Compostela!” “And
how the highways of Asia and Europe must have resounded in those days,”
cries Sanchez, “with hymns of praise sung by the pious pilgrims to St.
James!” Every nation had its own special hymns, a mixture of Latin and
the local idiom. One of the most beautiful of these compositions was,
according to Fita, that sung by the Flemmings, “que es de lo mas selecto
de la poesia del siglo xii.” In each verse the name of St. James appears
in a different case of the Latin declension.
As we have seen, special roads were built in Italy, France, and Spain to
facilitate the pilgrimages. Bridges were thrown across ravines and
rivers; inns and monasteries sprang up at the chief halting-places, such
as St. Marks at Leon and the monastery of Roncevalles, and in the lonely
and dangerous places where they were most needed. The fame of St. James
impressed even Rome. In the beginning of the tenth century, Pope John X.
(915-928) sent a priest named Zanelo to Santiago to find out if it was
really true that so many pilgrims went there and so many miracles were
wrought. Book ii. of the Codex of Calistus II. tells of many wondrous
miracles.
The most glorious days of the pilgrimages were those in which Diego
Gelmirez was archbishop. It is difficult for the uninitiated to see why
the tomb of St. James should have been considered to be the most
glorious of all the saints’ tombs in the world; but so it was, according
to St. Buenaventura.[84] There constantly occurred such frightful
crushes and stampedes in the fourteen gateways leading to the sacred
edifice, that a great many accidents happened even to the members of the
best-regulated pilgrim bands, and free fights ensuing, complaints went
up even to the Pope at Rome! For very often the prelate of Compostela
was absent from his post, and there was no other to take his place.
There is still preserved among the ancient constitutions of the
cathedral a description of the ceremonies prescribed in connection with
the pilgrims, and carried out by Archbishop Juan Arias 1282, 1266. The
custodian of the altar and a priest standing erect with rods in their
hands called up the bands of pilgrims in turn according to their
nationality and in their own language, and told them to group themselves
round the priest who was to hand them the indulgences they had gained by
their pilgrimages. Each pilgrim received a sharp rap from the rod as he
passed. As soon as divine worship was over (that is, the portion which
they attended), the pilgrims proceeded to lay their offerings before the
altar, and then went to venerate the _chain_. Sanchez thinks this was
the chain by which the Jews secured their prisoners. After the chain
came the _crown_, the _hat_, the _staff_, the _knife_, and the _stone_.
It seems that even the _hatchet_ with which St. James was beheaded lay
upon the altar when Baron de Rozmilal made his pilgrimage in 1465. The
staff is the only one of these sacred relics that has survived to our
day.
Most of the pilgrims, after they had done with Santiago, went on to
Padron to see the spot where the Holy Body had been landed by the
Disciples. But there was a great deal to be done in Santiago.
Money-changers sat with little heaps of coin close to the entrance of
the church, and did a lively business with the foreigners.
Scallop-shells had to be purchased, for the pilgrim who returned home
without his shell would not get his friends to believe he had got as far
as Santiago. This shell, the _pecten Veneris_ or _ostra Jacobea_
(Linn.), was called in Galicia _ó Jacobea_ (the shell of St. James). It
received the first of these names because it resembled in its form the
comb employed by the ancients, and Aphrodite was supposed to comb her
hair with one of these shells when rising from the sea. It is the common
convex bivalve so familiar to English eyes, white inside, and the fish
of which somewhat resembles an oyster, though it is less delicate in
flavour and odour. This sacred shell was offered for sale to the
pilgrims in all sizes, and made of many different materials: there were
shells in black jet, in porcelain, in silver, in copper and in brass, in
tin and lead. Traders called _los conchiarii_, _concheiros_, or
_latoneros_, sold shells, images of the Apostle, crosses, medals, and
other _objêts de religion_ to the pilgrims. The insignia of St. James
consisted chiefly in the metal scallop-shells which the pilgrims
attached to their robes and broad-brimmed pilgrim’s hats. Villa-Amil,
quoting Lopez Ferreiro,[85] tells us that in virtue of an edict of
Gregory IX. about 1228, in answer to a petition from the Archbishop and
Corporation, the manufacture of these shells in any place except
Compostela was strictly prohibited. In 1224 any one found falsifying
them was threatened with the anathema of Pope Alexander IV., and in 1266
Pope Clement IV. went even so far as to publish an edict excommunicating
those pilgrims who purchased or wore any other shells than those
manufactured in Compostela. Alfonso X., also, in 1260 forbade the
pilgrims to wear any insignia of St. James that had not been
manufactured on the spot, because by so doing they caused the Cathedral
of Santiago to suffer loss both in honour and revenue. Later on, in
1581, confiscation of the article and a fine were imposed on those who
dared to falsify the insignia of the Apostle or gilded them with saffron
that would not wear. The inns of the town of Santiago at which the
pilgrims put up had the sacred sign of the scallop-shells over the
central porch. Many of these, now turned into private houses, may still
be seen by the traveller. “But how,” the reader will ask, “did the
scallop-shell come to be chosen as the chief emblem of St. James?”
Next, perhaps, to the scallop-shells in popularity among the pilgrims
were the images of St. James, also manufactured for them at Santiago, a
favourite material being black jet (_azabache_). Dr. Fernando Keller, an
antiquarian of Zurich, published in 1868 a description of two jet
figures of St. James found in Switzerland, near the chapel for leprous
pilgrims at Einsiedeln; and a similar one found in Scotland has been
described by a Scotch antiquary as the _signaculum_ of a pilgrim to
Santiago, blessed at the shrine before it was carried away. The poorer
pilgrims who could not afford a jet image contented themselves with a
pewter one. But Villa-Amil says there is plenty of evidence that the
sale of the images had nothing to do with the Cathedral, and that the
workers in jet were in the habit of besieging the pilgrims and worrying
them into the purchase of their images. A few years ago, according to
Villa-Amil, not a single specimen of the ancient Santiago jet-worker’s
art was known (except to a few persons) to be in existence. Yet the
confraternity of jet-workers flourished up to the close of the sixteenth
century. They are mentioned in a curious notice in a memorial dated
August 8, 1570, which Villa-Amil gives at length. In the Ordinances of
the Confraternity there are some interesting technical details, such,
for instance, as the statement that jet from the Asturias was preferred
to Portuguese jet “because it took the straw,” _i.e._ had the power of
attraction. With regard to the jet images--the bearded image of St.
James, with pilgrim’s hat, robe, and staff, usually had two smaller
images kneeling on either side of it, but sometimes there was only one.
On the upturned brim of his hat there is the conventional shell, and in
his left hand he holds an open book. A rosary is suspended from his
girdle. He is usually barefooted and barelegged. From the hook of his
staff is suspended the leathern bag which was part of every pilgrim’s
staff. The kneeling figures are attired in pilgrim’s garb, also with
rosaries. The figure of St. James is never more than seven inches high.
The more ancient ones bear traces of gilding. Examples are to be seen in
the Kirker Museum at Rome, in the British Museum, in the Museum at
Perugia, in the Cluny Museum, and in many other places. Mr. Joseph
Anderson, according to Villa-Amil, was long under the impression that
the only piece of jet workmanship in the United Kingdom was the little
figure of St. James in the Museum of the Society of Antiquaries of
Scotland. A very rare and interesting specimen is the one of which Señor
Villa-Amil has kindly presented me with an illustration, and which is in
the possession of Guillermo de Osma.
The jet-workers (_azabacheros_) gave their name to the street in which
they carried on their trade, which led up to the principal entrance of
the cathedral, the façade of which is still known as _la Azabacheria_.
Señor Villa-Amil[86] has devoted a most interesting chapter to the
subject of the Santiago money-changers. He is convinced that there is
absolutely no foundation for the popular fallacy which attributed to
these money-changers the functions of a noble corporation, and wrapped
them in a romantic halo, as though they were something like “Knights of
the Round Table.” It is not true that, while they spent their days in
changing the pilgrims’ money, they guarded by night the sepulchre of St.
James. On the contrary, it is now quite certain that, according to the
earliest mention that has been found of them, their position was neither
a high nor a remarkably honourable one. They are mentioned in reference
to a statute passed in the year 1133 to prevent them from using false
weights. And Mauro Castella Ferrer, in his _History of St. James_,
informs us that a man who had been a money-changer, or the master of
such, was prohibited from wearing the garb of St. James! Far from being
looked upon as honourable knights, men of this trade were constantly
being upbraided all through the Middle Ages for the abuses of which they
were the originators. This was the case not only in Santiago, but all
over Spain. One charge against them was that they knowingly received and
circulated coins that they knew to be worthless.
The Confraternity of Money-Changers of Santiago was in existence in the
middle of the fifteenth century--for in 1450 Juan II. conceded to them
certain privileges. Money-changers, silversmiths, and jet-workers
represented the most important industries in Santiago in the Middle
Ages, and all these were established in quarters close to the Cathedral.
The money-changers, according to Aimerico, carried on their trade in the
Azabacheria in company with the jet-workers. In the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries these money-changers were no longer simple
money-changers seated on the ground with heaps of coin piled around
them; they had risen to the rank of respectable bankers, and many of
them were men of considerable standing and wealth. Villa-Amil thinks
that Francisco Trevino, whose tomb and effigy may still be seen in the
_capilla del Salvador_ of the cathedral, and who was secretary to
Archbishop Fonseca in the sixteenth century, was one of these
money-changers.
Among the saints who came as pilgrims to Santiago are the great names of
St. Frances from Italy and St. Bridget from Ireland. Warlike princes
journeyed thither that they might obtain the protection of the Apostle
against the enemies they were to meet in the field of battle. Philip II.
visited the sepulchre of St. James before embarking with the Armada for
the British coast. Among the queenly pilgrims to Santiago were Isabel,
queen of Portugal, and Catherine of Aragon, the unhappy wife of our
Henry VIII. The Cid and the Gran Capitan both came to Santiago. William
X., Count of Portiers and Duke of Aquitaine, expired in 1137 in the nave
of the Cathedral while joining in the Divine service. Louis VII. of
France came here on his return with the French army from the Second
Crusade. It was thought a blessed thing to die on the road to or from
Santiago. In the thirteenth century, Juan de Briena, King of Jerusalem
and Emperor of Constantinople, was among the pilgrims. The Franciscan
monk William de Rubruquis, who was sent by Louis IX. to convert the
Mongols of Siberia, found among the Tartars a Nestorian monk who
intended to make a pilgrimage to St. James of Galicia. Queen Matilda,
the daughter of Henry I. of England and wife of the Emperor Henry V. of
Germany, on returning to her old home as a widow in 1124, carried with
her the bones of one of the hands of St. James. Contemporary annalists
regarded this as an irreparable loss to the Kingdom.
Pilgrims continued to flock to Galicia in thousands up to and throughout
the sixteenth century.
In the year 1550 the first edition of a book entitled _Descripcion del
Reyno de Galicia_ was printed at Mondoñedo. Its author was Francisco
Molina, a native of Malaga and a canon of the Cathedral of Mondoñedo.
There is a copy of the first edition in the library of Santiago
University. This is one of the most curious and at the same time most
valuable of all the old works upon Galicia that are still extant. This
“Description of the Kingdom of Galicia” is written in verse, with
explanatory footnotes on every page. Here we read that of all the
cathedrals of the world that of Santiago was the most visited. “It is
venerated by all nations,” says the writer, “especially by the Slavs. A
Slav who makes a pilgrimage to Santiago is, on his return to his native
country, considered free from all his sins and escapes many of the
annoyances to which the others (who had not been to Santiago) are
subjected. Every year we see, on the 1st of May, processions of Slavs
with offerings, with thick and long wax candles. Having shown themselves
to their friends at home, they return the next year, in May, till they
have been three times, and on the occasion of the third procession they
wear three crowns. They then return to Esclavonia, where they henceforth
enjoy great liberty.” This is certainly very like the journey of
Mohammedans to Mecca! “The number of pilgrims is a marvellous thing!”
exclaims Molina. “The only other cathedrals where there is a concourse
of pilgrims anything like that at Santiago are St. Peter’s at Rome and
St. John’s at Ephesus. More pilgrims come to Santiago than to these two,
especially in Jubilee year (every seven years); but since Luther arose
with his dangerous views, the number of German, French, English and
Bohemian pilgrims has somewhat decreased.” Molina owns that the people
who take the least part in these pilgrimages are the Spaniards, “perhaps
because they are contented to know that they have the Cathedral and
relics of St. James in their own land, or perhaps because they prefer
seeing foreign lands to travelling in their own country.”
Molina tells his readers that the relics are shown to the pilgrims on
certain days of the week by a man specially appointed for the purpose on
account of his linguistic talents. He is called _lenguagero_ (linguist).
The head of the glorious Apostle is carried round the Cathedral on all
feast days in solemn procession. “One of the relics is a drop of milk
from the breast of the Virgin in a vase as fresh and perfect as if of
to-day. There is also a precious lock of her hair, and a thorn from
Christ’s crown which turns the colour of blood every Good Friday.”
“St. James brought nine disciples with him to Spain,” writes Molina. We
will leave his account of the great hospital erected for the pilgrims
till another chapter. He devotes many pages to a careful description of
the arms of the great families of Galicia, and with them of the arms of
St. James. “The reason why the pilgrims wear a scallop-shell as the
insignum of St. James,” he explains, “is that a certain nobleman, who
wished to accompany the body of the Apostle to Galicia, not finding a
passage in the ship, entered the sea on horseback, and thus reached
Galicia. As he came out of the water it was found that his body and that
of his horse were covered with scallop-shells. And now, the pilgrim who
does not bring scallop-shells back with him is not believed to have been
to Santiago at all.”
The crowding of the pilgrims to Mass was so great in the early years of
the seventeenth century, that the priest, after administering the Holy
Communion in the Chapel of the King of France, administered it in the
nave, in the transept, in the cloisters, and even in the large square
which is now called _Plaza de los Literarios_, but which was then called
the _La Quintana_. All these places were tightly packed with pilgrims.
As late as the year 1706, altars were temporarily erected in the
cloister for the priest to say Mass. In 1794, D. Miguel Ferro, Architect
of the Cathedral, wrote: “The crowd of pilgrims on the great feast days
is so large, that only two-thirds of them can get into the Cathedral,
apart from the families who live in the town.”[87] “Since then,” wrote
Sanchez in 1888, “the revolutions which inaugurated the present epoch,
and the spirit of religious indifference which has unfortunately
affected modern minds, have influenced the decadence of pilgrimages to
Santiago; they are now only the shadow of what they were.... To-day,
nevertheless, we feel the fervour and enthusiasm of bygone days is once
more growing.... With the discovery of the Sacred Relics of the Apostle,
Santiago appears at certain epochs to recover her former appearance.
Never shall we forget the 29th of June 1883, on which, staff in hand,
and on foot, and chanting hymns, there arrived at the sacred portal of
the Cathedral a company of Augustine friars, who had been unjustly
forced to leave France, their mother country. Shortly after their
arrival we witnessed that of another band of pilgrims, composed of
students from the Catholic University of Paris, and most of whom
belonged to the noblest families of France.”
It has been seen that the portals of the Cathedral were kept open day
and night for the convenience of the pilgrims; those who had been unable
to receive shelter in the overcrowded inns often passed entire nights
within the precincts of the Cathedral, sleeping on the stones of the
cloister and even in the Cathedral itself, using the galleries as if the
sacred edifice had been an inn. If we may trust Quintela Naya, it was
not till the thirteenth century that the making up of beds in the
Cathedral was forbidden. In order that the atmosphere of the edifice
might be purified for the relays of pilgrims, recourse was had to
incense-burning, and there eventually came into use, history cannot tell
us when, the wonderful _botafumeiro_, or giant censer, which is to this
very day one of the glories of the Cathedral.
There seems to be no trace of the use of incense in Christian worship
during the first three centuries. St. Clement of Alexandria (A.D. 192)
said, when contrasting the Christian service with pagan rites, “the
truly holy altar is the just soul, and its perfume is holy prayer.”[88]
Only when great crowds of unwashed pilgrims began to make the air of the
churches intolerable was the use of incense, as a disinfectant,
introduced into Divine Service.[89] Its use as a part of the ritual
dates from about the end of the fifth century. It is supposed that all
the side chapels of Santiago Cathedral had at first their own
incense-burners, but that when the pilgrims took to sleeping round the
altar and in the gallery which encircles the nave and transept, these
being found insufficient to purify the air of the entire building, their
place was taken by a huge silver casket filled with incense and
suspended by iron chains and by ropes and pulleys from the triangle of
the cupola. This great _incensario_ was solemnly swung the whole length
of the nave backwards and forwards above the heads of the pilgrims.
Whether the _botafumeiro_, which may still be seen to swing in Santiago
Cathedral is the original one which was in use there in the thirteenth
century, is not known. Señor Villa-Amil was not able for many years to
find any earlier allusion to this one than a passage discovered by
Zepedano in Oscea’s _Historia del glorioso Apostol Santiago_ (1615),
which says that in 1602 an order was given for the old beams from which
the great incense-burner was suspended to be replaced by new ones, and
new pulleys to be provided from the Biscay iron-works. The censer is
described as resembling a great silver cauldron, into which were put
from four to six pounds of perfume, and which, suspended by a long rope,
was swung to and fro by five or six men during the principal festivals
so as to fumigate the entire edifice. Recently, with the help of Señor
Lopez Ferreiro, a passage dating from the fourteenth century has been
found, in the Codex of Calixtus II., where the great annual festival in
honour of St. James is described. It runs thus: “Nunc decoretur cum
Capite beati Jacobi alphei mire magnitudinis in testis argenti deaurati
cum multis et magnis lapidibus pretiosis in testis et maxime cum magno
turibulo argenteo, a sumitate ecclesie et funibus suspensum per rotas
currendo a portale septentrionali usque a portali meridiano pleno
carbonibus incensis cum ture feriendo in utraque parte sumitatis
ecclesie, estante antistite in pontificale cum tota procesine ut supra.”
With regard to the form of the incense-burner here mentioned, Villa-Amil
says that it was fashioned like a turret, because in a Bull of Nicholas
V., which was dispatched from Rome on September 27, 1447, there is
promulgated a sentence of excommunication against the person who should
steal from the Cathedral of Santiago “_quoddam jocale argenteum in modum
bastitie artificis ingenio fabricatum, valoris mille ducatorum vel
circa_.”
In yet another passage in an old volume in the Library of Seville
Cathedral, Señor Villa-Amil has found the following: “In the year 1499
the Infanta Catalina was about to be married to the Prince of Wales, the
son and heir of the king of England, and she, the daughter of King
Fernando and Queen Isabella, before she embarked at Coruña (it was the
Jubilee year), attended Mass in the Cathedral at Santiago, which was so
full that it seemed as if it would be impossible, without the greatest
difficulty, to get another person into the transept. A censer swung
above the people as large as a great cauldron, suspended by very thick
iron chains. It was filled with live charcoal, upon which had been
heaped incense and other perfumes. And it swung so far as to reach
almost from one door of the transept to the other. Suddenly, while it
was swinging, the chains upon which it was swinging broke with a sound
like the report of a gun, and, without dropping a single ash, the censer
swung out of the door of the Cathedral, where it was smashed to atoms,
and dispersed all its red-hot coals without any one being hurt.”[90]
Villa-Amil’s article was published in 1889. His book, from which I have
translated the above incident, was not published until May 1907, but the
story appears to have been handed down from generation to generation
among the townspeople of Santiago; it was related to me by a Santiago
shopkeeper in February 1907. “Once,” he said solemnly, “in ages past,
the rope by which the censer was swinging broke, and the censer flew out
of the window over the gate of the _Platerias_, right over to the
fountain.” “And killed a lady,” put in his son, who was listening. “No;
it did not hurt any one,” said the shopkeeper, shaking his head. “It was
before my time and before my father’s time but it can’t happen again,
for ever since that day the master carpenter of the Cathedral is always
present to watch. He is one of those who pull the rope, and it is he who
stops the censer at the conclusion of the ceremony.”
It was on February 2, 1907, that I had the good fortune to assist at the
celebration of Candlemas, one of the four principal festivals of the
year, at Santiago Cathedral; and on that occasion the “king of censers,”
as Victor Hugo called it in his poem, swung before my admiring eyes. The
service began at 9.30. The Archbishop with his red cap (for he is now a
Cardinal) and ermine cape, presided. Standing in the transept close to
the choir in the midst of a large congregation, all standing or
kneeling, I saw two men come forward bearing “the largest incense-burner
in the world” suspended by its chains to a horizontal pole. They placed
it on the pavement, exactly under the central cupola, from the triangle
of which hung the two ends of a rope worked by a pulley. The chains of
the great silver censer were now attached to one end of the rope, while
seven strong men clutched the other end, and, pulling it, caused the
cauldron to rise in the air above our heads till it was about ten feet
from the ground. Then it began to swing gently. Every eye was fixed on
it, and there was for a moment the perfect silence of universal
expectation, but only for a moment, for then the silver tones of a
couple of clarions (_chirimias_) fell upon our ears.[91] At length the
great censer, as if taking courage at the sound of the music, swung
boldly out across the transept. It swung higher and higher, and the
clear voice of the silver-voiced clarions sounded more and more
triumphant. At last it swung so high that I thought it must turn a
somersault, and pour its glowing charcoal upon our upturned faces. We
saw its perforated top filled with tongue-like flames fanned by the
wind. And, in the midst of it all, the sight of those hundreds of eager,
upturned faces. What a study! When Borrow visited Galicia he heard of
“the mighty censers, which are at times swung so high by machinery as to
smite the vaulted roof of the Cathedral,” but he did not have the
privilege of assisting at one of those extraordinary ceremonies. “It is
one of the things to see,” said a professor of the University to whom I
mentioned it. “It is one of the sights of Santiago.” I do not know for
how long the censer swung above our heads, covering at each gigantic
swing the whole length of the transept,--perhaps ten minutes, perhaps
fifteen,--but at last it began to swing more gently and to rise less
high, and then it gradually subsided till it ceased swinging altogether.
While the five men were detaching it from its rope the congregation
began to press into the central nave, where a large ring had been formed
by the priests. Here the ecclesiastical musicians had taken their stand,
and here they gave us a (violins and ’cellos) repertoire of church
music, to which the congregation listened with rapture. The two
clarionets or _chirimias_ are only heard while the censer swings. It is
their sacred privilege to accompany its flight, and give by their clear
tones the final touch to one of the most dramatic scenes ever witnessed
in a Christian church. It reminded me of the moment when I saw the aged
Pope Leo X. carried to his throne in St. Peter’s at Rome (on the
occasion of his Jubilee), while clarion music imitated the singing of
angels in the great cupola of Michael Angelo.
Señor Villa-Amil has discovered that Sergius I. (687-701) provided a
censer, according to the biography of this pope quoted by Anastasius the
librarian: “_Thymiamaterium aureum columnis, ... quod suspendit arte
eandum imaginum S. Petri, in quo incensum et odor suavitatis festis
diebus missarum solemnia celebrantur omnipotenti Deo opulentius
mittitur_.” Villa-Amil believes, with Ferreiro, that of this class of
suspended censers that of Santiago was probably one of the first. For
many years the swinging censer of Santiago was thought to be the only
example of the kind, but Señor Benito Alonso has published the following
paragraph, which he recently discovered among the Proceedings of the
Corporation of Orense, by Inocencio Portabales: “On December 21, 1503,
the Corporation of Orense appointed Juan Diaz, a citizen of the town, to
the office of administrating and swinging the censer (_botafumeiro_),
which was provided with ropes and enormous cords. It was swung in the
transept of the Cathedral suspended from the roof of the lantern on
Christmas Day, at Easter, Pentecost, Ascension, Corpus, St. John the
Baptist’s Day, St. Peter’s Day, etc.”[92] It is clear, then, that in the
Cathedral of Orense, as well as in that of Santiago, there was a
swinging censer in use during the Middle Ages.
But to return to the pilgrims: the roads of Christendom were so crowded
with them that Dante exclaims--
“Mira mira ecco il Barone
Per cui laggiu si visita Galizia.”
“At the marriage of our Edward I., in 1254, with Leonora, sister of
Alfonso _el Sabio_, a special bodyguard for English pilgrims was
demanded; but they came in such numbers that the French took alarm, and
when Enrique II. was enabled by the aid of France to dethrone Don Pedro,
he was compelled to prevent any English whatever from entering Spain
without the French king’s permission. The capture of Santiago by John of
Gaunt increased the difficulties.... Rymer mentions 916 licences granted
to English in 1428, and 2460 in 1434. In the Middle Ages the duty of a
pilgrimage to Compostela was absolutely necessary in many cases to take
up an inheritance.”[93] A guide-book for the use of English pilgrims was
published in the fourteenth century, entitled _The Way from the Lond of
Engelond unto Sent Jamez in Galiz_.[94]
Lopez Ferreiro tells us in his great work on Santiago Cathedral that the
English had both a hospital and a church for the use of their pilgrims
near Cebrero in the province of Lugo. Pope Alexander III. mentions it
in his Bull conferring upon them all the privileges of Santiago. English
pilgrims used to come by sea for a long time, but when they became
masters of Aquitaine most of them came by land. Henry II. sent
ambassadors to Ferdinand II. with a message that for some time he had
been intending to visit the Cathedral of Santiago, and asking him to
provide a safe escort for his ambassadors. Pilgrims from England were
kindly received at the Gallegan monasteries, which they passed on their
way from the coast, especially at Sobrado,[95] of which the picturesque
ruins are still standing.