bare piece of ground, where the remains of dismantled fortifications
give a deserted and forlorn air to the very unecclesiastical aspect of
the exterior. I made a sketch among these ruins and could not help
feeling the result looked more like an Eastern farm enclosure than a
really fine Cathedral. There was the huge unfinished square tower, baked
a brilliant yellow, the _cimborio_ and dome, with its eight curious
little domes, all roofed in cement, and a copy of, if not contemporary
with, the same in the old Cathedral of Salamanca; the low mud walls and
almost flat roofs; a party of peasants in a sort of nomad encampment,
innumerable fowls pecking at the dust--what more could you have to
remind one of the East. The sun was broiling, and nothing disturbed this
"bit" of the Spain of long ago.
The exterior of the Cathedral has been much marred by the poor
Renaissance north façade, not visible in my drawing, and a tower with a
slate roof. The south porch is, however, intact, and from it, for the
building stands high above the Douro, the view must have been grand
before the Bishop's Palace was built and obliterated the whole prospect.
A dozen steps, narrowing as they approach the portal, lead up to the
door which is surrounded by four good round arches with scroll mouldings
of simple design. Inside this I found myself in the south transept.
[Illustration: ZAMORA. THE CATHEDRAL]
The interior, with the exception of that portion east of the crossing,
which is poor Renaissance with perpendicular vaulting, is exceedingly
massive. The nave is but twenty-five feet in width, the columns which
support the bays are ten feet through; the aisles are very narrow, but
so good are the proportions of all these that this miniature Cathedral
is one of the finest Romanesque churches in the country.
The _cimborio_ is round in plan with sixteen windows from which the ribs
of the vaulting spring. Unfortunately the columns have been decorated
with a spiral pattern of a chocolate colour, quite destroying the beauty
and simple grandeur of a feature which for simplicity ranks next to that
of the Catedral Vieja at Salamanca.
In the Capilla del Cardenal at the west end of the nave is a very fine
_retablo_ divided into six panels painted by Gallegos, whose signature
is on the central one. I was examining this one morning when an old
priest passed through into the adjoining sacristy. He stopped and
explained the subjects to me, taking particular interest in this when he
learnt I was a painter and what my mission to Zamora was. I cannot
forget his courtesy and pride while showing me some of the treasures
the Cathedral possesses, and shared his regret that the wonderful
tapestries were only on view at certain festivals. In this chapel are
some good tombs of the great Romero family, others too of interest are
in the Capilla de San Miguel, and the finest of all that of Canon Juan
de Grado has the genealogy of the Virgin sculptured above the effigy of
the Canon. I was very grateful for the seats which here are available
for a rest and quiet examination of the church. In Burgos is the only
other Cathedral where it is possible to sit and gaze.
LEON
Situated on the edge of the great plain which stretches away south to
the Sierra de Gredos and beyond to Toledo, Leon served as a sort of
buffer town between the Highlanders of the north and the dwellers on the
Castilian uplands.
The headquarters of the seventh Roman Legion, from which the name is
derived, it may be described as a great fortress of bygone days.
Astorga, some thirty miles westwards, being an outpost in that direction
no doubt helped to preserve Leon from the ravages of the Galician
Visigoths.
The Romans held their fortress for five hundred years until Leovigild in
586 captured it after a long and strenuous siege. So highly was the
position and strength of these two towns appreciated, that when Witiza,
the King of the Goths, issued a decree levelling all defensive works to
the ground, they were exempted and their fortifications preserved.
The Moors held Leon for a very short spell, and then only as a defence
against northern invasion. When Ordoño I. descended from his mountain
fastnesses and drove them out, Leon changed front with its new
occupants, and became a stronghold to be held at all costs against
invaders from the south.
The great Almanzor, in his victorious march north with the soldiery of
Cordova, swept away all opposition and this buffer town was sacked.
However, after his defeat at Calatanavor and subsequent death, the
banner of Christ was once more unfurled to the breeze from what little
was left of its walls.
These were almost entirely rebuilt of _tapia_ and cob-stones by Alfonso
V., since whose time they have remained or slowly fallen away.
Leon stands in a verdant pasture valley intersected by many streams and
shady roads lined with tall poplars. The fields on either side are
divided from one another by hedges and willow trees, thick scrub follows
the streams and grows down to the water edge, and walking in these
pleasant places it was not difficult to imagine myself back in England.
The city itself is really little better than a big village, and
considering the important part it has played in the history Spain, seems
sadly neglected and left out in the cold. This, too, despite the fact
that it is an important junction and railway centre. There are no
buildings of any present importance, and those that once could lay claim
to this are in a state of decay. It is only on Sundays and market days,
when the peasants in picturesque costume and gay colours come in, that
Leon can boast of the smallest animation. I remember one Sabbath evening
as I stood on my balcony, that vantage ground from which one sees all
the life of the place pass by in the street below, watching the folk
parade up and down. A military band discoursed "brassy" music, the crowd
was packed as tight as sardines in a tin, when suddenly the "toot, toot"
of a motor horn was heard above the clash of cymbals and boom of the
drum. A large car came down a by-street opposite, turned sharply and
charged the crowd. The Spaniard is of an excitable temperament, loud
cries of disapproval, and screams from the gentler sex drowned all else.
The chauffeur discovered his mistake none too soon and attempted to turn
the car. At this the uproar grew louder and he brought it to a
standstill. Youths climbed the steps, boys hung on behind, "Toot, toot"
went the horn; the bandmaster, with an eye to the situation, waved his
_bâton_ more energetically than ever, the big drum boomed, the trombones
blurted out for all they were worth, but the hooting and whistling
drowned everything.
At last the car began to back and became disengaged, the chauffeur
adroitly turned, and started down the street followed by the noisier
elements of the crowd eventually pulling up at a café, just out of the
parade zone. In Leon as elsewhere, fashion dictates a limit to the walk
in either direction and the chauffeur had stopped beyond this. The two
occupants of the car got out in a very unconcerned manner, sat down at a
table and ordered a drink. For at least a quarter of an hour, while
these two were taking their coffee, the crowd stood round booing,
whistling and shouting. I do not think I have ever seen anything cooler
than the way in which, their thirst satisfied, and the account settled,
they got up and walked slowly after the car which long ago had
disappeared out of danger.
By this time, despite the presence of a couple of the _Guardia Civil_,
the crowd was excited. A cart full of peasant folk next essayed the
perils of the thoroughfare, they however got through safely after much
badinage and fun. No sooner had they gone, the band meantime had
vanished, when out from a wine shop came some peasants with castanets a
little light-headed for once. There were four of them, two men and two
women. They immediately began a dance on the pavement. A ring was formed
and a storm of hand-clapping encouraged them, for ten minutes they
footed it admirably. More castanets appeared from somewhere and soon
half Leon was dancing in the middle of the Calle. The feeble-looking
policemen, who had been terribly worried over the motor-car incident,
thrust out their chests, or tried to, and beamed all over. The scene had
changed from what had first looked very much like an ugly row, to one of
pure enjoyment, they were safe, every one else was out of danger, and
Leon too was saved.
[Illustration: LEON. THE CATHEDRAL]
The night I arrived in Leon, having finished dinner, I left the hotel
and taking the first turn hap-hazard wandered up the street. The
electric lights were soon behind me and I found myself in what seemed to
be a huge deserted square. The dark night was lit by milliards of
twinkling stars, and gazing upwards at them my eye followed the line of
what appeared to be immensely tall poplar trees. I looked again, I had
never seen trees that colour, then it slowly dawned on me that I was in
front of the great Cathedral. Slowly, slowly as my eye became accustomed
to the dark I made out tapering spires that met the very stars
themselves embedded in the purple-blue sky, an infinitude of pinnacles,
with a wonderful building beneath. The mystery of a beautiful night
conjures up all that is best in this country. Squalor and dirt are
hidden; one's thoughts take flight and wander back to the Spain of old,
the glorious Spain of bygone days. At moments like this I certainly
would never have been surprised to hear the clatter of hoofs and see a
band of knights with pennons flying and armour glinting appear suddenly
in the semi-darkness. Well, the days of chivalry have gone but the
romance of a starry night will never die.
The next morning I returned eager to discover what my impressions would
unfold. Much to my delight I found the restoration of the Cathedral,
which I knew was in progress, so far finished that not a single scaffold
pole, nor any rubbish heaps of old stones were anywhere to be seen.
Extremely well have the designs of Señor Don Juan Madrazo been carried
out, and the Cathedral to-day stands a magnificent church and grand
monument of Christianity.
Santa Maria de Regla is the third Cathedral which has existed in Leon.
The site of the first is supposed to have been outside the city walls.
The second was built where once stood the Palace of Ordoño II., and this
had been raised on ground occupied by Roman baths.
The present edifice was founded in 1190 by Bishop Manrique de Lara, a
scion of a great family which was always in revolt, but was not
completed until the early part of the fourteenth century.
With Toledo and Burgos, Leon's Cathedral forms the group of three great
churches that are distinctly French, and closely resemble Amiens and
Rheims. It would be difficult to find another building the interior of
which exceeded the colour elegance and grace of this airy structure.
[Illustration: LEON. THE WEST PORCH OF THE CATHEDRAL]
The west porch is the finest Gothic specimen of its kind which exists in
Spain and recalls those of Notre Dame de Paris and the Cathedral at
Chartres. Three archways are supported by cloistered columns to which
are attached figures under beautiful canopies. The archivolts and
tympanum are covered with sculpture representing the Reward of the Just
and Unjust, the Nativity, Adoration, Flight in Egypt, and Massacre of
the Innocents. All are extremely interesting, many of the figures being
in contemporary costume. Two grand towers flank the west façade, of
which the north is the older and some thirty feet less in height than
its neighbour. Both are surmounted by spires, that of the south being an
excellent example of open filigree work, rivalling those at Burgos and
very much better than that of Oviedo.
Between these towers and above the porch is a pediment with spires and a
glorious wheel window, underneath which is a row of windows that
corresponds to the triforium. This portion is part of the late
restoration.
The south porch also has three arches, which have been well renovated.
The centre one alone has a door to admit into the interior, it is double
and surrounded by figures in the archivolt with reliefs in the tympanum.
On the centre column is a figure of San Froilan, at one time Bishop of
Leon.
A beautiful balustrade follows the sky-line of the whole Cathedral. This
is broken by many pinnacles, some of which are spiral, with others on
the façades and finishing the supports of the flying buttresses, give
the exterior a resemblance to a forest of small spires.
The interior is a marvel of beauty and lightness. The nave and aisles
consist of six bays, no lateral chapels disfigure the latter with
chirrigueresque atrocities. The triforium runs round the whole
Cathedral. So cleverly has the spacing here been arranged, that with the
clerestory it makes one magnificent panel of gorgeous light. The windows
of this, forty feet high, were at one time blocked up for safety. They
now contain stained glass, and soar upwards to the vaulting of the roof.
Every window in the Cathedral is coloured and the effect as the sun
streams through can well be imagined.
No flamboyant _retablo_ spoils the simplicity of the east end, the place
of what might have been a jarring note amidst the Gothic work being
taken by good paintings in flat gilded frames. It was Señor Madrazo's
idea to remove the _coro_ from the centre of the nave, and had this been
done Santa Maria de Regla would have gained immensely. The carved
stalls are good, and the _trascoro_ sculptured in white marble, which
age has toned, and picked out in gold, is decidedly a fine work.
Among the chapels in the apse that of La Nuestra Señora del Dado
contains a miraculous Virgin and Child. Tradition tells that a gambler
who had lost heavily threw his dice at her and smote her on the nose.
This forthwith bled copiously, hence the miracle and the name of "Dado"
or "die." Another chapel contains the tomb of a great benefactress of
the Cathedral, the Condesa Sancha. An expectant nephew, seeing her
property slowly dwindling in the cause of the Faith, put an end to his
aunt, and thereby met his own death by being pulled asunder by horses to
which he was tied.
However, the chapels are not very interesting, but the tombs in the
Cathedral are. Of all these that of Ordoño II., behind the chancel, is
certainly the finest. The king lies at full length with a herald at his
head and a monk at his feet holding a scroll inscribed "aspice." He
wears his crown and carries the royal emblems. This tomb was erected
five hundred years after the king's death, and is guarded by a quaint
iron grille.
The cloisters, entered from a door in the north transept, are a jumble
of Gothic and Renaissance, with a Romanesque arcade and a good deal of
plateresque work as well. Some of the earliest frescoes in Spain are
fast disappearing from the walls. They illustrate events in the Life of
Christ, and are in an early Italian style that places their origin in
doubt. From the western spires to the angular exterior of the chevet, a
good idea is obtained of the beauty of the Cathedral as one stands in
these cloisters, and when they, too, are restored the great work begun
in 1860 will be finished.
Next to the Cathedral, and perhaps in a way more interesting, is the
convent of San Isidoro el Real. This, the Escorial of Leon and Castile,
is a building which Soult's soldiers desecrated in a most abominable
manner; next to the lower or Roman portion of the city walls it is the
most ancient building in Leon. The body of San Isidoro was brought
hither in the reign of Ferdinand I. who obtained it from the Emir of
Seville, and the present church was erected to receive it. This was in
1063, the original convent being a hundred years older. San Isidoro was
declared by the Council of Toledo to be the Egregious Doctor of Spain,
and in his capacity of titular saint fought with cross and sword at the
battle of Baeza against the Moors.
The church is Romanesque and dark with a lofty clerestory but no
triforium. The High Altar shares with that at Lugo in Galicia the
privilege of having the host always _manifestado_.
[Illustration: LEON. SAN MARCOS]
In the Panteon, a small low chapel at the west end, lie buried the Kings
and Queens and other royalties of Leon. The columns are very massive
with heavy capitals; the ceiling is adorned with early frescoes which
happily escaped the depredations of the French, they are crude, but the
colour adds to the impressiveness of this gloomy abode of the Dead.
Representing scenes from the Lives of our Lord and His Apostles, with
signs of the Zodiac and months of the year, they date from 1180. The
whole convent is replete with mural paintings, and before Soult sacked
it contained many extremely interesting and rare missals of the seventh
and eighth centuries.
Unique is another convent, that of San Marcos, which stands on the river
bank outside the city on the road to Astorga. Founded as a chapel in
1168 for the knights of Santiago, it was rebuilt in 1514-49 by Juan de
Badajos, and is certainly his masterpiece. It would be difficult to find
a façade of greater beauty than this marvel of plateresque work. The
remarkable pink and golden colour of the stone, intensified against the
background of a deep blue sky, the delicacy of the carving in which
angels and cherubs, griffons and monsters intermingle with floral
wreaths and branches of fruit in orderly confusion, the elegant pillars
and pilasters, all so truly Spanish under the blazing sun, fascinated
me immensely as time after time I returned to wonder and admire.
Here again I could conjure up the past, the romance of Spain's greatest
Order; well housed were those knights of old in their glorious Hospice,
and now--the river still runs under the walls of what afterwards became
a convent, its banks are lined with tall poplars, far away rise the
mountains of the north in rugged outline just as they did of yore--and
San Marcos? Alas! half is a museum and the rest a barrack. A forlorn air
pervades the place, the old garden wants tending, and despite the life
of the military, I could not help sighing once again, as I have so often
sighed in Spain--"How are the mighty fallen!"
OVIEDO
Oviedo, seldom visited by the foreigner, lies well situated on rising
ground in a fine open valley. Grand mountains surround and hem it in on
the east, south and west, to the north the country undulates until it
reaches the Biscay coast twenty odd miles away. These natural barriers
gather the clouds and the climate is humid; on an average there are but
sixty cloudless days in the year. While I was in Oviedo it rained almost
incessantly, and the "clang of the wooden shoon" kept the streets lively
with a clattering "click-clack." All the poorer classes wear sabots in
wet weather, sabots that are pegged on the soles, difficult to walk in,
but kept well out of the mud and puddles by these pegs. This particular
make is common to Asturias, just as the ordinary French shape is to
Galicia.
Oviedo is one of Spain's university cities, and I happened to strike the
week when the festivities in celebration of its tercentenary were in
progress. Wet weather and pouring rain never damp the ardour of the
Spaniard during a _fiesta_, and despite the rain, powder was kept dry
somehow or other, and enthusiasm vented itself regularly up to eleven
o'clock every night by terrific explosions. Functions of some sort
seemed to be going on all day long. Societies from the country paraded
the streets, led by music, in most cases bagpipes and a drum, and Oviedo
was evidently "doing itself proud."
I happened on a ceremony in the Cathedral one morning. The bishop was
preaching to an immense crowd when I entered. Seated in the nave were
the Professors of the University, Doctors of Law and Medicine, the
Military Governor and his Staff, the Alcalde and Town Councillors,
besides representatives from the universities of every European country,
except, strangely enough, Germany, and one from Harvard, the first to
attend a function of this sort since the war. It was a really wonderful
sight, for the Cathedral is not marred by a _coro_ in the nave. The hues
of the many-coloured robes, from canary yellow and scarlet to cerulean
blue and black, the vast throng literally filling every available bit of
space, even on to the pulpit steps, gave me a subject for my brush, and
I surreptitiously made a hasty sketch, to be finished afterwards in my
room.
[Illustration: OVIEDO. IN THE CATHEDRAL]
The Cathedral was founded by Fruela in 781, and enlarged in 802 by
Alfonso the Chaste, who made Oviedo the capital of Asturias, and with
his Court resided here. He created the See in 810. The present edifice
was begun by Bishop Gutierrez of Toledo in 1388, and the tower added by
Cardinal Mendoza in 1528.
Hedged in, although fronting on to a little _plaza_, the grand west
façade with its beautiful porch can hardly be said to be visible. This
lofty portico of richly ornamented Gothic, under the shelter of which
the gossips parade to and fro, leads into the Cathedral and stands
thrust out and between the two towers. Only one of these towers is
completed, and it is surmounted by a good open-work spire the top of
which rises two hundred and seventy feet from the ground.
I wandered about hopelessly trying to gain some idea of the exterior of
the Cathedral and found that it was only by walking outside the city
that anything at all can be seen of it, and then the towers and roof of
the nave, with the flying buttresses attached, were the only features
that came into view.
The entrance by the south door leads through a dark passage, in which
many votive offerings hang over a tiny shrine where burnt a little
flickering lamp; going in I found myself at the spot from which I had
made my sketch the previous day. What a relief it was to find no _coro_
blocking up the nave! The eye could wander over the whole of this lofty
interior--could follow the beautiful open work of the triforium and rest
on the stained glass of the clerestory windows. The aisles are very
shadowy, all the light being concentrated in the nave and the crossing,
and the vision, with a great sense of good effect, is led up to the
white tabernacle on the High Altar and the immense _retablo_ beyond. A
little theatrical if you like, but it is business, and the Church
understands this so well.
Among the chapels, good, bad and indifferent, is one containing a
gorgeous silver-gilt shrine wherein rests the body of Santa Eulalia,
Oviedo's patroness. In another, tucked away behind the north transept,
the Capilla del Rey Casto, lies buried Alfonso the Chaste who did so
much for the city. Six niches in the walls contain stone coffins, which
are supposed to hold the remains of Fruela I., Urraca, wife of Ramiro
I., Alfonso el Católico, Ramiro, and Ordoño I. The bodies of these
royalties at one time lay here, and a modern inscription on a mural
tablet relates how they were removed, but not how their tombs were
destroyed. Many other kings and princes we are told by this tablet also
lie here, and as there are but half a dozen coffins their bones must be
_bien mélange_.
There are the usual overdone chirrigueresque altars which do their best
to mar this imposing church, though I am glad to say they hardly
succeed. From them, however, it was a relief to be taken by a very
intelligent verger up the winding stairs which led to the Cámara Santa.
This is by far the most interesting portion of the Cathedral. Built by
Alfonso in 802 to hold the sacred relics brought hither from Toledo at
the time of the Moorish invasion, it stands above a vaulted basement;
the reason for this arrangement evidently being the damp climate, and
the wish to keep so holy a charge free from moisture. The chapel is
divided into two parts. The inner, of very small dimensions, has a low
barrel vaulting borne by arches with primitive twelfth-century figures.
The _sanctum sanctorum_ is slightly raised, and from this inmost Holy of
Holies the relics are shown to the devout who kneel in front of a low
railing every day at 8.30 A.M. and 3.30 P.M. The cedar wood _arca_ in
which they are kept is of Byzantine workmanship. The relics include some
of Mary Magdalene's hair, and crumbs left over from the feeding of the
five thousand.