Archbishop Fonseca in 1521. They are bad Gothic enriched with
Renaissance details. The centre court is paved with granite and gives an
impression of bareness which is not redeemed by the architecture.
It was in this Cathedral that John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, was
crowned King of Spain.
[Illustration: SANTIAGO. INTERIOR OF THE CATHEDRAL]
Santiago possesses a much frequented university, which is extremely well
provided with books.
In the church of Santa Maria de la Sar may be seen relics of the Holy
Office which held its sittings in the adjoining monastery. The
president's chair, marked with a palm, a cross and a red sword is
perhaps the most notable. This monastic church, at one time owned by
Templars, is situated outside the city boundary on the Orense road. Like
all the others, in fact like the whole of Santiago, it is built of
granite. It possesses a triple apse; the nave is of five bays without a
triforium or clerestory, and the interior, in consequence, is very dark,
heavy and gloomy. In it is the tomb of Archbishop Bernardo, 1242. The
cloister at one time must have been exceptionally fine, but alas! only
nine arches now remain; and the whole edifice is of the fast-crumbling
away type not uncommon in the country.
The fine Plaza Mayor, or Plaza Alfonso Doce, is bounded on the north by
the huge Hospice erected by Enrique de Egas for Ferdinand and Isabella
for the use of poor pilgrims. The royal coat-of-arms is in evidence over
the entrance portal, enriched, in addition, with figures of saints and
pilgrims. The massive cornice has a course of heavy chain work and the
ball decoration so common in Toledo. This huge pile of buildings is now
used as a hospital. It is divided into four courts with fountains and
is admirably adapted for its present use. The small chapel is one of the
gems of Santiago. The roof springs from four arches with Gothic statues
and niches clustered round a central column.
On the west side of the Plaza stands the great Seminario founded in 1777
for the education of young priests. The ground floor is now occupied as
the Ayuntamiento of Santiago.
To the south is the Collegio de San Gerónimo, with a remarkable early
doorway. The college was known as _Pan y Sardina_ from the poverty of
its accommodation. Sardines, the staple industry of Vigo and other coast
towns of the district, are the cheapest food obtainable, hence the
appellation. Santiago is delightfully situated amidst heather-clad
hills, the lower slopes of which are well wooded with oak, fir, and
eucalyptus. Great boulders of granite stand out like the monoliths of
prehistoric ages. Many a pleasant walk through the purple heather
revealed to me a landscape such as one sees in parts of Cornwall and
Scotland. The grey city with its red-tiled roofs, its huge deserted
monastic buildings, the many spires and domes of the Cathedral and other
churches, all set in patches of brilliant green meadows and maize fields
look particularly beautiful from Monte Pedroso, a fine vantage point
surmounted by a huge Calvary.
The climate is comparatively moist, ferns of all sorts grow in the shade
of garden walls, and bracken is thick in the oak woods. The Galician is
well favoured by Nature, and being a patient, hard-working man of not
much mental capacity, very pious and an ardent advocate of small
holdings, gets through life with a contented spirit. He is very close
and knows the value of a peseta. Unfortunately he is looked down upon by
the Castilian, and the term "Gallego" is rather one of abuse than
respect. Driven to emigration by the subdivision of land which cannot
support more than those who own and work it now, he goes south in great
numbers and is the trusted _concierge_ in many a large house and hotel
in Madrid and elsewhere. The Panama Canal too attracts him from his
native hills, in fact the Gallego is to be met with wherever Spanish is
the spoken language.
TUY
The train deposited me one morning at this little frontier town. It was
very hot, and it was Sunday. The only porter in the station volunteered
to carry my bag to the Fonda, so we joined a long file of peasants and
tramped up the dusty road to the old Gothic capital which stands
splendidly situated above the river Minho.
From a distance the Cathedral rises like a fort, capping the white
houses and brown roofs which are terraced below. At one time in the far
away past Tuy was a town of great importance. Greek remains have been
dug up here, but history does not go further back than Ætolian Diomede,
the son of Tydeus, who founded what became under King Witiza the Gothic
capital. This was in the year 700. Ordoño I. rebuilt it two hundred
years later, and I did not find it difficult to trace the massive
granite walls which sheltered the inhabitants, and preserved it as the
most important city of these parts.
Truly a crown to the fortress, the castellated walls of the Cathedral
give it a martial air. The nave of five bays is early pointed, with a
blind triforium and blocked up clerestory. So narrow and dark are the
aisles and so massive the columns which support the fine vaulting of the
roof, that I could never get rid of the feeling that I was in some great
hall of an ancient castle. It only wanted a few halberdiers or
men-at-arms, instead of the black-garbed peasant women kneeling at the
different altars, to make the illusion perfect.
The transepts, which have aisles, are Romanesque with an early pointed
triforium. After the great earthquake at Lisbon many strengthening
additions were made to the interior, blocking out most of the light. In
the case of the aisles arches were run up at different intervals with no
sense of proportion, quite hap-hazard, and creating a very much askew
appearance in this part of the building. Transoms were built across the
nave to add to the disfigurement of one of the most perfect little
Cathedrals in Spain.
The west doorway is very fine, with four detached columns on either
side, thus forming a narrow porch. The upper half of these columns each
consists of a good figure of a saint whose feet rest on a devil. In the
tympanum are good reliefs and a well-cut Adoration of the Magi. The
archivolt is seven-fold and is an excellent piece of rich carving. All
is granite, and all is solemn, quite in keeping with this hard
material.
[Illustration: TUY]
The Cloister Court, round which runs a most beautiful arcade of early
pointed work with detached shafts, has unfortunately fallen into decay.
But the charming little garden in the centre somewhat compensates for
this. When I strolled in the silence was only broken by the cooing of
doves and the hum of bees. The sun seemed to find his way into every
nook and cranny, and here, thought I, is peace.
Away beyond the outer wall, a wall which is part of the old defence of
Ordoño's day, is the road to Portugal. Passing through vineyards it
reaches the river a mile distant and crosses the water by a very fine
bridge. It was from this road that I made my sketch of the quaint
old-world town. Down by the river at the end of the one broad street
that Tuy possesses is the old Convent of Santo Domingo. Now a barrack,
it still keeps its grand Transitional church. The chancel is extremely
fine and among its many tombs a knight in armour with his lady at his
side I thought the best. On the grassy platform in front of the church I
spent one or two pleasant evenings. The river flows below and the
mountains of Portugal rise sublimely from the opposite bank. I was
decidedly pleased with my short sojourn in this typical Spanish town,
the wonderful position of which, right on the frontier overlooking
another land, makes it one of Spain's most unique Cathedral cities.
ORENSE
"In the gold district," such is the meaning of Orense. In Roman days it
was the headquarters for working the gold in which the district
abounded.
Three warm springs, situated close to the road which leads out of the
town to the south-west, also brought fame to Orense, though they
possessed, apparently, no medicinal properties. Nowadays the poorer
classes use the water for domestic purposes, thereby saving fires.
In Visigothic times Orense was the capital of the Suevi, and was the
scene of the renunciation of Paganism by this tribe. Besides its warm
springs the town boasts of two other wonders, its bridge and its
Cathedral. The former is certainly a grand piece of work. The centre
arch rises one hundred and thirty-five feet above the river Minho, with
a magnificent span of one hundred and forty feet. Of the six remaining
arches some are pointed and some are round.
The Cathedral is a most interesting structure, more's the pity it is so
little known. Built on an artificial platform to throw it out from the
hillside, it rises well above the neighbouring roofs. Silversmiths and
metal workers ply their trades in the dark shops between the buttresses
which hold up this platform on three sides.
There is nothing much to attract one in the exterior of the Cathedral
except the Gothic north and south doors. They both have rounded arches
with good figures in the jambs and archivolts. The south is the better
of the two, as the north bears traces of alteration, the case in the
whole appearance of the exterior. A third door opens in the second bay
west of the north aisle, and is approached from the street below by
steps leading up between two shops. The massive north-west tower is
adjoining and stands over perhaps half a dozen small rooms where all day
long the musical tap of the metal workers' hammers are heard.
The side chapels of the interior are all recessed, and standing in the
south-west corner of the Cathedral I obtained an uninterrupted view for
my sketch along the south aisle into the apse. There is no triforium in
the nave, but a beautiful lancet clerestory enhances both this and the
aisles. I thought the octagon at the crossing extremely good. Two rows
of lights, one above the other, have an interior gallery with an
unobtrusive balustrade round each. The supporting corbels are well-cut
bosses. The spandrils between the arches are recessed with well-carved
figures of angels and archangels playing on musical instruments. Of
course this octagon bears no comparison with that at Burgos, it is much
simpler and much smaller, but has a tentative beauty of its own.
[Illustration: ORENSE. IN THE CATHEDRAL]
The transepts are of earlier date, and have been altered, though not
injudiciously. The _coro_ is small, very dark and solemn, and in this
respect bears favourable comparison with many another which may be far
finer. Its _reja_, like that of the Capilla Mayor, is a very good
example of wrought and hammered iron-work, and does credit to the skill
of those who no doubt sat in the little shops below giving their
life-work to the adornment of the church above.
The High Altar is a mass of silver with a background of glittering
carving which forms the gilded _retablo_. The warm yellow of the
Cathedral stone and the time-worn colour of the figures which decorate
this _retablo_ have a very pleasing effect to the eye. The ashes of
Santa Eufemia, Orense's patroness, rest beneath her effigy which stands
to the south of the High Altar, and those of SS. Facundo and Primivo
under theirs on the north side. Santa Eufemia's body was found by a poor
shepherdess lying out on the mountain slopes of the Portuguese border,
and was brought here to rest.
The Cathedral is full of fine tombs, among which that of Cardinal
Quintata in Carrara marble is the best. It is placed on the north side
of the chancel facing a much earlier Gothic tomb with a well-carved
canopy which stands on the south side. The present edifice was founded
in 1220 by Bishop Lorenzo, displacing the older church erected in 550
and dedicated to Saint Martin.
Wandering at random up the narrow streets which covered the hill I found
myself outside the Convent of San Francisco. Like so many institutions
of a kindred nature it is now a barrack, and difficult of access.
However, I managed to get in and found the chief interest centred in the
cloisters. They are beautiful relics of the thirteenth century. Sixty
arches complete the arcade, with coupled shafts standing free. The
capitals are well carved and the dog-tooth moulding above them has not
suffered much from the ravages of time.
Here, as in other towns where money in late mediæval days was scarce, it
is pleasant to find untouched remains of an earlier past. The streets
are mostly arcaded and very tortuous and quaint. The market is held on
the Plaza of the Cathedral, and fruit vendors sit in the sun on the
steps which lead into the Holy Fane. The _Alamedas_ are thronged at
night with a crowd which, for Spain, seemed to take life seriously.
I had finished my usual after-dinner stroll one evening, and returned to
my hotel. It was a balmy night and I pulled my chair out on to the
balcony. The lights in the cottages on the hill opposite went out one by
one, and away down below, amongst the dark foliage of a vineyard, I
heard the sound of a guitar. A voice breathed out a love song, and once
more I felt the romance of the South--that indescribable feeling which
comes over one when nerves are attune to enchanting surroundings.
ASTORGA
"No, you won't find much for your brush to do in Astorga, señor"--was
the answer to a query addressed to a fellow passenger in the train. I
fear he was not far wrong, though I knew with the Cathedral I should not
be disappointed.
It was a wet evening, and I landed at the station in the dark; gave my
traps to a porter, and found myself after a tramp through the mud at the
only Fonda in the place. My baggage was deposited in a sort of glorified
cupboard containing a bed. The small window had no glass, and I
discovered the next day that it opened on to the stables. I objected to
these quarters, and later on in the evening my belongings were moved
into a room just vacated by some one who had gone on to Madrid in _el
rapido_.
The next morning I made my way to the Cathedral. It stands well and
quite isolated, except for the "New Art" Bishop's Palace which is in
course of erection. The Cathedral is late Gothic, built in the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries on the site of a former church. The interior is
lofty and very beautiful, though spoilt by a bad _trascoro_ in execrable
taste and quite out of keeping with the elegant columns of the nave.
This consists of seven bays. The bases of the piers run up ten feet or
more, and resemble the later additions to Leon Cathedral and those at
Oviedo. The intersecting mouldings on them are the very last style of
Gothic work and exemplify the beginning of a more florid taste. There is
no triforium. The clerestory windows are of unusual height, as at Leon,
and are filled with very fine glass.
The aisles are also very lofty. The chapels attached to that on the
north have their vaulting carried up to the height of the aisle, a very
unusual feature. All the windows on this side, with one exception, are
blocked. In the south aisle the vaulting of the lateral chapels is low.
The windows are glazed and contain good glass; and in the first chapel
from the west is a very fine early German _retablo_.
The transepts are of one bay only. The south has perhaps the best glass
in a Cathedral which is specially rich in this.
[Illustration: ASTORGA]
There is much good iron work in the different _rejas_, and the walnut
_silleria_ in the _coro_ are exceptionally well carved. But the gem of
the Cathedral is undoubtedly the magnificent _retablo_ over the High
Altar. Its author, Gaspar Becerra, was a native of Baeza, and studied in
Italy under Michael Angelo. It is his masterpiece, and well merits this
title. Of the fourteen panels, _The Disputation_ and _Ascension_ are the
best. The exterior of this lofty church is much enhanced by its flying
buttresses. The west façade is good Renaissance work, with flanking
towers, only one of which is, however, finished. A flying buttress
connects them with the centre of the façade as at Leon, in fact I could
not help drawing comparison, when I knew them both, between these two
Cathedrals.
The warm red stone of which this at Astorga is built has weathered most
beautifully, and contrasts with the grey balustrade composed of figures
holding hands--a very quaint device, by the way--which adorns the ridge
above the clerestory. At the south-east corner, instead of the usual
pinnacle, a huge weathercock stands. It is a wooden statue of Pedro
Mato, a celebrated Maragato, in the dress of his tribe.
La Maragateria is a territory of small extent in the middle of which
Astorga is situated. The inhabitants, the Maragatos, mix with no one.
They live exclusively to themselves, preserve their costume and their
customs, and never marry out of their own clan. The men hire themselves
out as carriers, the women stay at home and work. It is supposed that
as they have many Arabic words still in use, they are a remnant of the
Moorish occupation left behind when Christian armies finally swept the
Infidel back into the south. This may be so, for the Moors are past
masters at caravan work, and the Maragatos are the great carriers of
Spain. When on the road their strings of mules take precedence, and
everything clears out of their way. The men dress in loose baggy
knickers and the women attire themselves in short red or canary-coloured
skirts with green or light blue lining, one pleat remains open and shows
either of these colours. They wear white stockings, black shoes, and
very gaily-coloured handkerchiefs cover their heads. On a Sunday they
swarm into the town, going off in the evening at sundown to their
different villages in picturesque chattering throngs. Twice a year the
whole tribe assembles at the feasts of Corpus Christi and the Ascension,
when they dance for an hour, el Cañizo, a dance which if an outsider
dare join in is immediately stopped.
I had heard a great deal of the dignity of the Spaniard, before I went
to Spain, and had failed to find that this reputation was at all
justified, except in the case of the _Guardia Civil_, until I came
across the Maragatos. I found them to be among the most self-respecting
and courteous folk that one could meet anywhere; they certainly are
amongst the most interesting of the many distinct tribes that people the
Peninsula.
Astorga, the Asturia Augusta of the Romans, is described by Pliny as a
"magnificent city." It was once the capital of southern Asturia and was
always an important outpost fortress. As indicative of its strength I
may mention that Astorga bears for arms a branch of oak.
Like Leon, the importance of its position as a base, both for those who
lived in the mountains to the north and west, as well as for those who
came from the plain, was always appreciated, and was for ever a bone of
contention between the inhabitants of these districts. The Bishopric was
founded in 747 by Alfonso el Catolico, but no man of note has ever been
appointed to the See as far as I could discover. Indeed, Astorga is
another of those old Spanish cities which are passed by in the train,
with the remark--"How nice the old walls look, I do wish we had time to
stop here."
A saunter round the walls I must own is very disappointing. It is so
evident that but little veneration is felt, or respect shown, for any
antiquities or historical associations. In many places they have been
pulled about for the sake of the building materials they yielded. They
are the rubble heaps of Astorga and have fallen into sad decay. One
portion is, however, preserved. In the south corner, where a pretty
little _paseo_ garden affords shade and a pleasant promenade, a splendid
view is obtained "over the hills and far away." Here, at any rate,
restoration has been undertaken for the sake of the common ground where
men and women walk, as custom dictates, every evening.
At the spot where the Cathedral stands a great deal of demolition has
taken place, and even to-day the huge new château-like palace of the
bishop, now in process of erection, closes in a fine space and detracts
from the little antiquity which is left in this corner of Astorga. Such
is modern taste in Spain. Besides its walls, Astorga is celebrated for
its _mantecadas_, small square sponge-cakes, neatly folded in pieces of
greased paper, which find their way all over this part of the country;
but the farther off you find them the less do they resemble the
originals, and these are very good.
ZAMORA
Travelling through the great plain of Leon by train is apt to become
intensely monotonous, especially when, as in the case of reaching
Zamora, fate decreed that I should sit baking for hours in the slowest
of all, the undesirable _mercantilo_. Very few villages enlivened the
yellow landscape, which bare of vegetation lay blistering under the
midday sun; those that were visible were all _tapia_ built with unglazed
lights, and seemed to have grown outwards from the little brown-walled
churches in their midst. On rising ground beyond the limits of these
sad-looking hamlets, I could see the dwellings of the poorest of the
poor. Dug out of the bank-sides, they resemble rabbit holes more than
anything else. A door gives light, ventilation and access to the
interior, a tiny chimney sticking out of the ground above carries off
the extra fumes of smoke. Life inside must be nearer that of the beasts
than that of any other race in Europe; and as the slow _mercantilo_
crawled along I had plenty of time to note the stunted growth and
wearied mien of those whose day of toil ends in these burrows under the
earth. In many places, the year's vintage is stored in these
subterranean holes. At last the train crept into the station and I read
the name of my destination on its wall.
Zamora adds another to the list of those very interesting old cities of
Spain which still have a remnant of their ancient walls left standing.
Known at one time as Ocellum Duri, "The eye of the Douro," from its
strategical position on that barrier river, it still bears many traces
of a glorious past. Of old, an outpost for defence against the Infidel
of the south, with its natural barrier, Zamora nevertheless changed
hands many times. The veracious chronicler records how in 939 Ramiro II.
came to the city's relief and slew forty thousand Moors--their whole
force, in fact, to a man!--only to be revenged a few years later by the
all-conquering Almanzor.
Ferdinand I. in 1065 rebuilt the defences which this redoubtable warrior
had levelled and presented the city to his daughter Urraca, whose son,
Alfonso VI., was the first King of united Leon and Castile. Zamora
figures, too, in the Cid's meteoric life. He appointed Geronimo, his
confessor, who lies buried in Salamanca, to the Bishopric, and when
Sancho besieged the place, it being then held by Urraca, the defence was
so excellent that "no se tomó Zamora en una hora" (Zamora was not taken
in one hour) became a proverb. It was at this siege that five Moorish
sheiks brought the Cid tribute and saluted him as "Campeador."
There are more tangible remains of the quaint old city's importance to
be found in its Cathedral and streets than its proverbs and anecdotes.
Here is the house of Urraca, with an almost obliterated inscription over
the gateway--"Afuera! Afuera! Rodrigo el soberbio Castellano"--culled
from the ballad of the Cid, and referring to his exclusion from the
place.
In the church of San Pedro y Ildefonso are a couple of fine bronze-gilt
shrines containing the remains of SS. Ildefonso and Atilano. The
Romanesque church of the Templars, La Magdalena, dates from the twelfth
century. Its rose window is formed with small columns like the Temple
Church in London; and within are some beautiful tombs.
The Hospital is a good building with an overhanging porch, very
effectively coloured and having the appearance of glazed tiles. Many old
houses of the nobility now slumber tranquilly in slow decay, and Zamora,
like so many other Spanish towns of its class, seems left behind in the
modern hurry of life; and this is one of its greatest charms, the charm
that is so typical of old Spain.