advice to the magistrates, is well worth notice:--
Nobles discretos varones,
Qui gobernais a Toledo
En aquatos escalones
Codicia, temor y miedo.
Por los comunes provechos
Deschad los particulares
Puez vos hezo Dios pilares
De tan requisimos lechos
Estat vermes y derechos.[9]
In the streets, the _alcazerias_ which wind around the sides of the
Cathedral, the rich silk guild traded. Here were shipped the goods that
freighted vessels sailing for the American colonies.
During the Visigothic reign in Toledo, the Cathedral site was occupied
by a Christian temple. It was transformed by the Moors after their
occupancy of the city into their principal mosque; there they were still
permitted to carry on their worship, according to the terms of the
treaty made on their surrender of the city to King Alfonso IV in 1085. A
year afterwards King Alfonso went off on a campaign, leaving the
capital in charge of his French queen, Constance, and the Archbishop
Bernard, recently sent to Toledo at the King's request by the Abbot of
Cluny. No sooner was King Alfonso outside the city walls than the
regents turned the Moors out of the church. The Archbishop arrived with
a throng of Christian citizens, battered down the main entrance, threw
the Moslem objects of worship into the gutters, and set in their place
the Cross and the Virgin Mary. When the news of this outrage reached the
ears of the King, he returned in wrath to Toledo, swearing he would burn
both wife and prelate who had dared to break the oath he had so solemnly
sworn. The Moslems, sagely fearing later vengeance would be wreaked upon
them should they permit matters to take their course, besought the
returning sovereign to restrain his wrath while they released him from
his oath,--"Whereat he had great joy, and, riding on into the city, the
matter ended peacefully."
The appearance of this fanatic Cluny monk is of the greatest importance
as heralding a new influence in the development and history of Spanish
ecclesiastical architecture. His coming marks the introduction of a
foreign style of building and a revolution in the previous national
methods, known as "obra de los Godos," or work of the Goths. Further,
with the gradual arrival of French ecclesiastics from Cluny and Citeaux,
came also a greater interference from Rome in the management of the
Spanish Church, and a radical limitation of the former power of the
Peninsula's arrogant prelates. Owing to the new influence, the Italian
mass-book was soon presented in place of the ancient Gothic ritual and
breviary. The foreign churchmen likewise aided in uniting sovereign,
clergy, and nobility in common cause against the Saracen infidels now so
firmly ensconced in the Peninsula. Spanish art had previously felt only
national influences; now, through the door opened by the monks, it
received potent foreign elements.
Spain had been far too much occupied with internal strife and political
dissension to have had breathing spell or opportunity for the
development of the fine arts and the building of churches. The passion
for building which the French monks brought with them awoke entirely
dormant qualities in the Spaniard, which in the early Romanesque, but
especially in the Gothic edifices, produced beautiful, but essentially
exotic fruits. First in the days of the Renaissance the architecture
showed features which might be termed original and national. With the
Cluniacs came not only French artisans but Flemish, German, and Italian,
all taking a hand in, and lending their influences to the great works of
the new art.
Nothing remains of the old Moorish-Christian house of worship. It was
torn down by order of Saint Ferdinand (he had laid the foundation stone
of Burgos as early as 1221), who laid the corner stone of the present
edifice with great ceremony, assisted by the Archbishop, in the month of
August, 1227 (seven years prior to the commencement of Salisbury and
Amiens). The building was practically completed in 1493, during the
reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, the most illustrious epoch of Spanish
history. Additions and alterations injurious to the harmony and symmetry
of the building were made till the end of the seventeenth century, and
again continued during the eighteenth. It thus represents the
architectural inspiration and decadence of nearly six hundred years.
In style it belongs to the group of three great churches, Burgos, Toledo
and Leon, which were based upon the constructional principles and
decorative features termed Gothic. In some respects these churches
embodied to a highly developed extent the organic principles of the
style, in others, they fell far short of a clear comprehension of them.
None of them had the beauty or the purity of the greatest of their
French sisters. Burgos may be said to be most consistently Gothic in all
its details, but neither Toledo nor Leon was free from the influence of
Moorish art, which was indeed developing and flowering under Moslem rule
in the south of the Peninsula, at the time when Gothic churches were
lifting their spires into the blue of northern skies under the guidance
and inspiration of the French masters. In many respects the Gothic could
not express itself similarly in Spain and France,--climatic conditions
differed, and, consequently, the architecture which was to suit their
needs. In France, Gothic building tended towards a steadily increasing
elimination of all wall surfaces. The weight and thrusts, previously
carried by walls, were met by a more and more skillfully developed
framework of piers and flying buttresses. Such a development was not
practical for Spain nor was it understood. The widely developed fields
for glass would have admitted the heat of the sun too freely, whereas
the broad surfaces of wall-masonry gave coolness and shade. Nor were the
sharply sloping roofs for the easy shedding of snow necessary in Spain.
In French and English Gothic churches, the light, pointed spire is the
ornamental feature of the composition, whereas in the Spanish, with a
few exceptions, the towers become heavy and square.
None of the three Cathedrals in question impresses us as the outcome of
Spanish architectural growth, but seems rather a direct importation.
They have the main features of a style with which their architects were
familiar and in which they had long since taken the initial steps. They
are working with a practically developed system, whose infancy and early
growth had been followed elsewhere.
While in the twelfth, and the early portion of the thirteenth century,
Frenchmen were gradually evolving the new system of ecclesiastical
architecture, the Spaniards, destined to surpass them, were to all
purposes still producing nothing but Romanesque buildings, borrowing
certain ornamental or constructional features of the new style, but in
so slight and illogical a degree, that their style remained based upon
its old principles. They employed the pointed arch between arcades and
vaulting, and unlike the French, threw a dome or cimborio over the
intersection of nave and transepts. In some instances we find a regular
French quadripartite vault at the crossing, but such changes are not
sufficient to term the cathedrals of the period (Tudela, Tarragona,
Zamora, and Lerida) Gothic. They remain historically, rather than
artistically, interesting. With the second quarter of the thirteenth
century, comes the change.
In style Toledo corresponds most closely to the early Gothic of the
north of France. Its plan reminds one forcibly of Bourges, though it is
far more ambitious in size. Owing to the long period of its building, it
bears late Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque features, while traces of
Moorish influence are not wanting.
The Cathedral of Toledo was built in an imaginative, creative and
passionate age,--an age when the ordinary mason was a master builder as
well as sculptor, stimulated by local affection, pride and piety. The
results of his work were tremendous,--his finished product was a
storehouse of art. Artists of all nations had a hand in the work.
Bermudez mentions 149 names of those who embellished the Cathedral
during six centuries. Here worked Borgoña, Berruguete, Cespedes, and
Villalpando, Copin, Vergara Egas, and Covarrubias. It is rather
difficult to analyze their genius. They were not naturally artists, as
were the French and Italians; they did not create as easily, but were
rather stimulated by a more naïve craving for vast dimensions. With this
we find interwoven in places the sparkling, jewel-like intricacy and
play of light and shade so natural to the Moorish artisan, and the
sombre, overpowering solemnity of the warlike Spanish cavalier.
It is necessary for a people at all times to find expression for its
æsthetic life. Architecture, like literature, reflects the sentiments
and tendencies of a nation's mind. As truly as Don Quixote, Don Juan, or
the Cid express them, so do the stories told by Toledo, Leon, or Burgos.
They reproduce the passions, the dreams, the imagination, and the
absurdities of the age which created them.
Toledo's first architect, who superintended the work for more than half
a century, was named Perez (d. 1285). He was followed by Rodrigo,
Alfonso, Alvar Gomez, Annequin de Egas, Martin Sanchez, Juan Guas, and
Enrique de Egas. Hand in hand with the architects, worked the high
priests.
The Archbishop of Toledo is the Primate of Spain. Mighty prelates have
sat on that throne, and the chapter was once one of the most celebrated
in the world. The Primate of Toledo has the Pope as well as the King of
Spain for honorary canons, and his church takes precedence of all others
in the land. The offices attached to his person are numerous. As late as
the time of Napoleon's conquest of the city, fourteen dignitaries,
twenty-seven canons, and fifty prebends, besides a host of chaplains and
subaltern priests, followed in the train of the Metropolitan. At the
close of the fifteenth century, his revenues exceeded 80,000 ducats
(about $720,000), while the gross amount of those of the subordinate
beneficiaries of his church rose to 180,000. This amount, or 12,000,000
reals, had not decreased at the beginning of the nineteenth century. In
the middle ages he was followed by more horse and foot than either the
Grand Master of Santiago or the Constable of Castile. When he threw his
influence into the balance, the pretender to the throne was often
victorious. He held jurisdiction over fifteen large and populous towns
besides numbers of inferior places.
Many who occupied the episcopal throne of Toledo ruled Spain, not only
by virtue of the prestige their high office gave them, but through
extraordinary genius and remarkable attainments. They were great alike
in war and in peace. Many of them combined broadness of view and real
learning with purity of morals. They founded universities and libraries,
framed useful laws, stimulated noble impulses, corrected abuses, and
promoted reforms. Popes called them to Rome to ask their advice in
affairs of the Church. Bright in the history of Spain shine the names of
such prelates as Rodriguez, Tenorio, Fonseca, Ximenez, Mendoza, Tavera,
and Lorenzana.
From the tenth to the sixteenth centuries Castile was far less bigoted
than other European nations, for, of all the daughters of the Mother
Church, Spain was the most independent. Her kings and her primate were
naturally her champions, ever ready and defiant. King James I even went
so far as to cut out the tongue of a too meddlesome bishop. From early
Gothic days to the time when Ferdinand began to dream of Spain as a
power beyond the Iberian Peninsula, no kingdom in Europe was less
disposed to brook the interference of the Pope. Ferdinand and Isabella
thwarted him in insisting upon their right to appoint their own
candidates for the high offices of the Spanish church, and the Pope was
obliged to give way.
The figure we constantly encounter in the thrilling tilts between Rome
and Spanish prelates is the Archbishop of Toledo. Like Richelieu and
Wolsey, Ximenez and Mendoza towered above their time, and their great
spirits still seem present within their church. Ximenez, better known in
English as Cardinal Cisneros, rose to his high office much against his
will from the obscurity of a humble monk. The peremptory orders of the
Pope were necessary to make him leave his cell and become successively
Archbishop of Toledo, Grand Chancellor of Castile, Inquisitor General,
Cardinal, Confessor to Queen Isabella, Minister of Ferdinand the
Catholic, and Regent of the Kingdom of Charles V. He was "an austere
priest, a profound politician, a powerful intellect, a will of iron, and
an inflexible and unconquerable soul; one of the greatest figures in
modern history; one of the loftiest types of the Spanish character.
Notwithstanding the greatness thrust upon him, he preserved the austere
practices of the simple monk. Under a robe of silk and purple, he wore
the hard shirt and frock of St. Francis. In his apartments, embellished
with costly hangings, he slept on the floor, with only a log of wood for
his pillow. Ferdinand owed to him that he preserved Castile, and Charles
V, that he became King of Spain. He did not boast when, pointing to the
Cordon of St. Francis, he explained, 'It is with this I bridle the pride
of the aristocracy of Castile.'"[10]
History may accuse him of the unpardonable expulsion of the Moriscos,
and the retention of the Inquisition as well as its introduction into
the New World,--but what he did was done from the strength of his
convictions and according to what, in the light of his age, seemed the
best for his country and his Church. He was perhaps even greater as a
Spaniard than as a churchman. His conceptions were all grand, and he was
as versatile as he was great. Victor in the greatest of all Spanish
toils, he executed the polyglot version of the Scriptures, the most
stupendous literary achievement of his age. Fitting his greatness is the
simplicity of his epitaph:--
Condideram musis Franciscus grande lyceum,
Condor in exiguo nunc ego sarcophago.
Praetextam junxi sacco, galeamque galero,
Frater, Dux, Praesul, Cardineusque pater.
Quin virtute mea junctum est diadema cucullo,
Cum mihi regnanti paruit Hesperia.
The figure of Cardinal Mendoza stands out clear and strong in the final
struggle with Granada. It was he who first planted the Cross where the
Crescent had waved for six centuries, and he was the first to counsel
Isabella to assist the great discoverer. His keen intellect made him
lend a ready ear and friendly hand to the rapid development of the
science of his time and the fast-spreading taste for literature.
And so the line of Toledo's illustrious bishops continues,--leaders of
the church militant, like the Montagues and Capulets, they fought from
the mere habit of fighting, but they seldom stained their swords in an
unworthy cause.
III
There is a great discrepancy between the interior and the exterior of
the Cathedral. The former is as grand as the latter is insignificant and
unworthy. The scale is tremendous. Only Milan and Seville cover a
greater area, if the Cathedral is considered in connection with its
cloisters. Cologne comes next to it in size. It runs from west to east,
with nave and double side aisles, ending in a semicircular apse with a
double ambulatory. As is characteristic of Spanish churches, it is
astonishingly wide for its length,--being 204 feet wide and 404 feet
long. The nave is 98 feet high and 44 feet wide, while the outer aisles
are respectively 26 and 32 feet across.
The exterior, with the exception of the ornamental portions of the
portals and a few carvings, is all built of a Berroqueña granite. The
interior is of a kind of mouse-colored limestone taken from the quarries
of Oliquelas near Toledo. Like many limestones, it is soft when first
quarried, but hardens with time and exposure.
The impression of the exterior is strangely disappointing. Imposing and
massive, but irregular, squat, and encumbered by surrounding edifices
clinging to its masonry. An indifferent husk, encasing a noble interior.
Only one tower is completed, and no two portions of the decoration are
symmetrical. The exterior has no governing scheme, no "idée maîtresse,"
no individual style, and is the outgrowth of no definite period.
Successive generations of peace or war have enriched or destroyed its
masonry. You stop with an exclamation of admiration in front of certain
details of the exterior; before others, you only feel astonishment. The
want of order and unity in the execution of its various portions and
elevations is distressing.
Order and harmony may be preserved, even where an edifice is carried on
by successive ages, each of which imparts to its work the stamp of its
own developing skill and imagination. Very few of the great cathedrals
were begun and completed in one style. Most of the great French churches
show traces of the earlier Norman or Romanesque; most of the English
Gothic, traces of the Norman or of the different periods of English
Gothic architecture; but one dominating scheme has been followed by the
consecutive architects. The lack of such a governing and restraining
principle is felt in the exterior of Toledo. Further than this, although
successive wars and religious fanaticism have with their destructive
fury injured so many of the beautiful statues and exquisite carvings and
much of the stained glass of the French and English religious
establishments, still the architecture itself has in the main been left
undisturbed. In Toledo, there is hardly a portion of the early structure
and decoration of the lower, visible part of the Cathedral which has not
been altered or torn down by the various architects of the last three
centuries.
As an obvious result, the portions of the exterior which are interesting
are individual features, and not a unified scheme; and they are
interesting historically, rather than in relation to or in dependence
upon one another.
The west front, which is the principal façade, the various doorways and
completed tower form the most interesting portions of the exterior.
The west front is flanked by two projecting towers, dissimilar in
design. To the south is the uncompleted one, containing the Mozarabic
chapel,[11] roofed by an octagonal cupola and surmounted by a lantern,
strangely betraying in exterior form its Byzantine ancestry.
[Illustration: Photo by J. Lacoste, Madrid
CATHEDRAL OF TOLEDO
The choir stalls]
To the north rises the spire which commands the city and the Cathedral
of Toledo. It was begun in 1380 and completed in sixty years,--no long
time when we take into account its size and detail and the carefulness
of its construction. Rodrigo Alfonso and Alvar Gomez were the
architects, and the Cardinals Pedro Tenorio and Tavera directed the
work. Although it lacks the soaring grace of the towers of Burgos, it
possesses quiet strength and a majestic dignity, and the transitions
between its various stories have been executed with a skill scarcely
less than that shown in the older tower of Chartres. It is in fact full
of a character of its own. Divided into three parts, it rises to a
height of some three hundred feet and terminates in a huge cross. The
principal building material is the hard but easily carved Berroqueña
granite, with certain portions finished in marble and slate. The lower
part, which is square, has its faces pierced by interlacing Gothic
arches, windows of different shapes, ornamental coats-of-arms and marble
medallions. It is crowned by a railing and, at the corners where the
transition to the hexagon occurs, by stone pyramids. The central part is
hexagonal in plan and ornamented by arches and crocketed finials. Above
it rises the slate spire terminating under the cross in a conical
pyramid, added after a fire in the year 1662. The spire is curiously and
uniquely encircled by three collars of pointed iron spikes, intended to
symbolize the crowns of thorns.
The great bells of the Cathedral peal from this tower, among them the
huge San Eugenio, better known, though, by the name "Campana gorda," or
the Big-bellied Bell, weighing 1543 arobes (about 17 tons) and put up
the same day it was cast in the year 1753. Its fame is shown by the old
lines, which enumerate the wonders of Spain as the--
Campana la de Toledo,
Iglesia la de Leon,
Reloj el de Benavente,
Rollos los de Villalon.[12]
Fifteen shoemakers could sit under it and draw out their cobbler's
thread without touching each other. A legend relates that "the sound of
it reached, when first it was rung, even to heaven. Saint Peter fancied
that the tones came from his own church in Rome, but on ascertaining
that this was not the case, and that Toledo possessed the largest of all
bells, he got angry and flung down one of his keys upon it, thus causing
a crack in the bell which is still to be seen."
Not only does the hoarse croak of Gorda's voice remind the tardy
worshiper of the approaching hour of prayer, but it tells each and all
of the "barrio" where the fire is raging. Though the prudent Toledan may
not know the art of signing his name or reading his Pater Noster, full
well he knows, whenever Gorda speaks, whether the danger is at his own
door or at his neighbor's.
The lower portion of the façade between the towers is composed of a fine
triple portal dating from 1418 to 1450, which, despite later changes, is
still an excellent piece of Gothic work. It contains over seventy
statues. Above, the façade is composed of an ornamental screen
inexpressive of the structure and the internal arrangement of the
edifice. A railing separated the "lonja," or enclosure immediately in
front of the entrances, from the street outside. The central entrance
is the Gate of Pardon; to the north is the Gate of the Tower, also
called the Gate of Hell; to the south is the Gate of the Scriveners or
of Judgment. The middle door is the largest and most important. For
centuries the steps leading to it have been climbed and descended by the
pregnant women of Toledo, to insure an easy parturition.
The doors themselves are covered with most interesting bronze work,
showing how far the Spaniards had in later centuries developed the art
of their skillful Saracenic predecessors. The arch of the Gate of Pardon
is exquisitely formed and its moldings and recesses are profusely
decorated with finely chiseled figures and ornaments. Each of the three
doors is surmounted by a relief, that over the Pardon representing the
Virgin presenting the chasuble to Saint Ildefonso, who is kneeling at
her feet.
The Scriveners' Gate derives its name from having been the door of entry
for the scriveners when they came to the Cathedral to take their oath,
but, though they had a gate for their own particular use, they did not
seem to enjoy an especially good reputation. According to an old verse,
their pen and paper would drop from their hands to dance an independent
fandango long before their souls ever entered the Kingdom of Heaven.
Above the door is an inscription commemorative of the great exploits of
the Catholic Sovereigns and Cardinal Mendoza and of the expulsion of the
Jews from the Kingdoms of Castile, Aragon and Sicily.
The principal feature above the doors is a classical gable which extends
the whole width of the façade, its field filled with colossal pieces of
sculpture representing the Last Supper. Our Lord and the Apostles are
seated, each in his own niche. It recalls the carving over the northeast
entrance of Notre Dame du Puy. Nothing could be more ineffective and out
of place than to crown this portion of the Gothic building with a Greek
gable end. Finally, above the gable, with a curious pair of arches built
out in front of it, comes a circular rose almost thirty feet in
diameter, of early fourteenth-century work, this again being surmounted
by late eighteenth-century Baroque additions.