SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELLA.
The journey from Lugo to Santiago is pleasant so far as the country is
concerned, and there is one advantage in the extremely slow and grave
pace of the diligences in this part of the world, that it always allows
of the scenery being well studied. Moreover, in these long rides there
is a pleasure and relief in being able to take a good walk without much
risk of being left behind, which can hardly be appreciated by the modern
Englishman who travels only in his own country. The general character of
the landscape is somewhat like that of the Yorkshire moors, diversified
here and there by beautiful valleys, the sides of which are generally
clothed with chestnut, but sometimes with walnut, oak, and stone-pines.
The heaths were in full flower, and looked brilliant in the extreme, and
here and there were patches of gorse. The road is fine, and has only
recently been made. The country is very thinly populated, so that we
passed not more than two or three villages on the way, and in none of
them did I see signs of old churches of any interest. It is difficult to
picture anything more wretched than the state of the Gallegan peasantry
as we saw them on this road. They were very dirty, and clothed in the
merest rags: the boys frequently with nothing on but a shirt, and that
all in tatters; and the women with but little more in quantity, and
nothing better in quality. The poorest Irish would have some difficulty
in showing that their misery is greater than that of these poor
Gallegans.
My journey to Santiago was quite an experiment. I had been able to learn
nothing whatever about the cathedral before going there, and I was
uncertain whether I should not find the mere wreck of an old church,
overlaid everywhere with additions by architects of the Berruguetesque
or Churrugueresque schools, instead of the old church which I knew had
once stood there. In all my Spanish journeys there had been somewhat of
this pleasant element of uncertainty as to what I was to find; but here
my ignorance was complete, and as the journey was a long one to make on
speculation, it was not a little fortunate that my faith was rewarded
by the discovery of a church of extreme magnificence and interest.
The weary day wore on as we toiled on and on upon our pilgrimage, and it
was nearly dark before we reached the entrance of the city, and after
much delay found ourselves following a porter up the steep streets and
alleys which lead up from the diligence Fonda to the principal inn,
which happens fortunately to be very near the one interesting spot in
the city--the cathedral. The next morning showed us not only the
exterior of the city, but enabled us also to form a good idea of its
surroundings. It stands on the slope of a steep hill, with great bare
and bleak hills on all sides, rising generally to a great height. From
some of them the views are no doubt very fine, and the town with its
towers and walls may well look more imposing than it does on a nearer
view.
For, to say the truth, if the cathedral be left out of consideration,
Santiago is a disappointing place. There is none of the evidence of the
presence of pilgrims which might be expected, and I suspect a genuine
pilgrim is a very rare article indeed. I never saw more than one, and he
proclaimed his intentions only by the multitude of his scallop-shells
fastened on wherever his rags would allow; but I fear much he was a
professional pilgrim; he was begging lustily at Zaragoza, and seemed to
have been many years there on the same errand, without getting very far
on his road. And there is not much evidence in the town itself of its
history and pretensions to antiquity; for, as is so often the case in
Spain, so great was the wealth possessed by the Church in the
seventeenth and early part of the eighteenth century, that all the
churches and religious houses were rebuilt about that time, and now, in
place of mediæval churches and convents, there are none but enormous
Renaissance erections on all sides; and as they are bad examples of
their class, little pleasure is to be derived from looking at them,
either outside or inside.
Perhaps some exception ought to be made from this general depreciation
of the buildings at Santiago in favour of the _entourage_ of the
cathedral; for here there is a sumptuous church opening on all sides to
Plazas of grand size, and surrounded by buildings all having more or
less architectural pretension. Steep flights of steps lead from one
Plaza to another, a fountain plays among quarrelsome water-carriers in
one, and in another not only does an old woman retail scallop-shells to
those who want them, but a tribe of market people ply their trade, cover
the flags with their bright fruit, make the ear tired with their eternal
wrangle, and the eye delighted with their gay choice of colours for
sashes, headgear, and what not.
The whole record of the foundation of this cathedral is a great deal too
long to enter upon here; but fortunately enough remains of its
architectural history to make the story of the present building both
intelligible and interesting, and to this I must now ask the attention
of my readers.
There seems to have been a church founded here in or about the year
868,[140] which is said to have been completed in thirty-one years,[141]
and consecrated in A.D. 899. Of this church nothing now remains; but the
contemporary deed of gift to the church by the King Alfonso III., and
the account of the altars and relics existing in it at the time, are of
considerable interest.[142]
I need hardly say how much store was laid by the clergy of Santiago on
their possession of the body of the Apostle. Mr. Ford[143] gives only
too amusing, if it is, as I fear, only too true, a version of the story
of the Saint’s remains. Suffice it here to say, that there no longer
seem to be great pilgrimages to his shrine, and that even in Spain the
old belief in the miracle-working power of his bones seems now
practically to have died out.[144] Nothing could, however, have been
stronger than the old faith in their patron, and the extreme wealth
brought to the church by the pilgrimages made of old to his shrine from
all parts of Europe would no doubt have involved the entire destruction
of all remains of the early church, in order to its reconstruction on a
far grander scale, had it not been destroyed, so far as possible, in the
century after its erection, by the Moors under Almanzor.
From the end of the tenth century I find no mention of the cathedral
until the episcopate of Diego Gelmirez, in whose time Santiago was made
an archbishopric. He was consecrated in the year 1100, and died in A.D.
1130, and the history of his archiepiscopate is given in great detail in
the curious contemporary chronicle, the ‘Historia Compostellana.’[145]
Here it is recorded that, in A.D. 1128, “forty-six years after the
commencement of the new church of St. James,” the bishop, finding that
the subordinate buildings were so poor that strangers absolutely
“wandered about looking for where the cloisters and offices might be,”
called his chapter together, and urged upon them the necessity of
remedying so grave a defect, finishing his speech by the offer of a
hundred marks of pure silver, thirty at once, and the rest at the end of
a year.[146] This would put the commencement of the new cathedral in the
year 1082, during the episcopate of Diego Pelaez, though, as will be
seen, the same History elsewhere says that the church was commenced in
A.D. 1178, a date which occurs also on the south transept door-jamb; and
the works must have been carried on during the time of his successors,
Pedro II. and Dalmatius (a monk of Cluny), to its completion under
Gelmirez.[147] It was in the time of this bishop, in the year 1117, it
is recorded in the Chronicle, that during a violent tumult in the city,
in which both the bishop and queen hardly escaped alive, the cathedral
was set on fire by the mob; but its construction is so nearly fireproof,
that doubtless it was the furniture only that was really burnt; for,
eleven years later, in A.D. 1128, the bishop, in his speech to the
chapter, already mentioned, speaks of the church as being extremely
beautiful, and, indeed, renowned for its beauty.[148] In A.D. 1124 two
canons of Santiago were collecting money for the works at the cathedral,
in Sicily and Apulia,[149] and the cloister, which was commenced in A.D.
1128, seems to have been still unfinished in A.D. 1134.[150] From this
date until A.D. 1168 I find no record of any alteration; but in this
year Ferdinand II. issued a warrant[151] for the payment of the master
of the works--one Matthew--and twenty years later, the same master of
the works put the following inscription on the under side of the lintel
of the western door:--
“Anno: ab: Incarnatione: Dai: Mº. Cº. LXXXVIIIvo: Era Iª CCXXh. VI.:ª
Die K-L. Aprilis: supra liniharia: Principalium: portalium.”
“Ecclesiæ: Beati: Jacobi: sunt collocata: Per: Magistrum: Matheum: qui:
a: fundamentis: ipsorum: portalium: gessit: magisterium.”[152]
In addition to these evidences, there are two others in the church
itself; one, to which I shall refer again, a date which I take to be
A.D. 1078, on the jamb of the south transept doorway; and the other, an
inscription which, with some modifications, is repeated several times
round the margins of circles let into the aisle walls, in the centre of
which are the dedication crosses. The date on one of these over the west
side of the transept, as well as I could read it, appeared to me to be
A.D. 1154;[153] but as the inscriptions vary somewhat round the
different crosses, it is possible that the dates may vary also with the
time of completion of the various parts of the building; and I regret
therefore that I did not make accurate copies of all of them. The
dedication crosses are all floriated at the ends, and have in the
spandrels between the arms of the cross--above, the sun and moon, and
below, the letters A and Ω. Three of these remain on each
side of the nave, two in each transept, and two in the choir aisle,
twelve in all. I saw none on the exterior; but so little of the old
external walls can now be seen that this is not to be wondered at.
It is now time to describe the building itself, the age of its various
parts having been pretty accurately defined by the documentary evidence
which I have quoted.
This cathedral is of singular interest, not only on account of its
unusual completeness, and the general unity of style which marks it, but
still more because it is both in plan and design a very curiously exact
repetition of the church of S. Sernin at Toulouse.[154] But S. Sernin is
earlier in date by several years, having been commenced by S. Raymond in
A.D. 1060, and consecrated by Pope Urban II. in A.D. 1096; and the
cathedral at Santiago can only be regarded, therefore, as to a great
extent a copy of S. Sernin, the materials being, however, different,
since granite was used in its construction in place of the brick and
stone with which its prototype was constructed.
The dimensions of the two churches do not differ very much; Santiago has
one bay less in its nave, but one bay more in each transept; it has only
one aisle, whilst S. Sernin has two on each side of the nave; and its
two towers are placed north and south of the west front, instead of to
the west of it, as they are at S. Sernin. The arrangement of the chevet
and of the chapels on the east of the transepts was the same in both
churches. Here they still exist in the chevet, but in the transepts
traces of them are only to be found after careful examination. Three of
them, indeed are quite destroyed, though slight traces still exist of
the arches which opened into them from the aisles, but the fourth has
been preserved by a piece of vandalism for which one must be grateful.
It has been converted into a passage-way to a small church which once
stood detached to the north-east of the cathedral, and the access to
which was by a western doorway. The erection of a modern chapel blocked
up the access to this doorway, and an opening was then made through the
northern chapel of the north transept, which has thus been saved from
the fate which has befallen the others. The position and size of these
chapels are indicated in the ground-plan.
The proportions of the several parts of the plans of the two churches
are also nearly identical; and owing in part to the arrangement of the
groining piers of the transepts, in which the aisles are returned round
the north and south ends, the transept fronts in both churches have the
very unusual arrangement of two doorways side by side--a central single
doorway being impossible. The triforium galleries surround the whole
church, being carried across the west end and the ends of the transepts,
so that a procession might easily ascend from the west end, by the tower
staircases--which are unusually broad and spacious--and make the entire
circuit of the church. Finally, the sections of both these great
churches are as nearly as possible the same; their naves being covered
with barrel-vaults, their aisles with quadripartite vaults, and the
triforia over the aisles with quadrant vaults, abutting against and
sustaining as with a continuous flying buttress the great waggon-vaults
of their naves.[155]
[Illustration: No. 17
SANTIAGO CATHEDRAL p. 147.
INTERIOR OF LOWER CHURCH]
The exterior of the cathedral at Santiago--to a more detailed
description of which I must now devote myself--is almost completely
obscured and overlaid by modern additions. The two old western steeples
shown on the plan are old only about as high as the side walls of the
church, and have been raised to a very considerable height, and finished
externally with a lavish display of pilasters, balustrades, vases, and
what not, till they finish in a sort of pepper-box fashion with small
cupolas. Between them is a lofty niche over the west front, which
contains a statue of the tutelar.[156] Fortunately the whole of the
façade between the steeples was built on in front of, and without
destroying, Master Matthew’s great work, the western porch. The ground
falls considerably to the west, and a rather picturesque quadruple
flight of steps, arranged in a complicated fashion, leads up from the
Plaza to the doors. There are two great and two lesser flights of steps,
so that a procession going up might be divided into four lines; a
doorway in the centre of the western wall below these steps leads into a
chapel constructed below the western porch. This is now called the
Chapel of St. Joseph, but seems to have been known of old as Santiago la
Vajo. The arrangement of its plan is very peculiar.[157] There are two
large central piers east and west of a sort of transept; to the west of
this are two old arches, and then the modern passage leading to the
doorway at the foot of the steps. To the east of the transept is an apse
consisting of an aisle formed round the great central pier, with small
recesses for altars round it. The aisle is covered with a round-arched
waggon-vault; it has five recesses for altars; the easternmost _seems_
to have a square east end, the next to it on either side have apses, and
the others are very shallow recesses hardly large enough for altars.
There can be no doubt whatever, I think, that this is the work on which
Master Matthew was first employed; it is exactly under the porch and
doorway, on which, as we know by the inscription on the lintel of the
door, he wrought; and as he was first at work here in A.D. 1168, and
finished the doors in A.D. 1188, we may safely put down this chapel as
having been begun and finished circa A.D. 1168-1175. In this the bases
are some of them square, some circular in plan; the sculpture of the
capitals is elaborate and similar in character to most of the later work
in the cathedral. The favourite device of pairs of animals regarding
each other is frequently repeated; and there are moulded and spiral
shafts in the jambs of the western arches. My view of the interior of
this interesting little chapel will best explain its general character
and peculiarities, and it will be felt, I think, that it is certainly
not earlier than the date I have assigned, and therefore, like the great
western door, of later date than the church in connection with which it
was built. Behind the eastern altar there is an arcade of three arches
forming a kind of reredos, but I am not at all sure whether they are in
their old places, and I am inclined to think it more likely that there
is an eastern apse behind them. There is nothing to prove whether there
were any western doors to this chapel, and as all the light must
originally have come through the western arches, it would seem to be
most probable that there were none. The chapel is now kept locked, and
is but seldom used for service.[158]
To return to the west front. This is the centre only of a vast
architectural façade; to the right of the church being the chapter-house
and other rooms on the west side of the cloister, and to the left
another long line of dependent buildings. The Plaza is bounded by public
buildings on its other three sides;[159] and beyond, to the west, the
ground falling very rapidly affords a fine view across the valley to the
picturesque mountain-like ranges which bound the landscape. This is the
Plaza Mayor or “del Hospital.”
Going northward from the west entrance, and turning presently to the
east, a low groined gateway is reached, which leads into another Plaza
fronting the north transept. This gateway is a work of the twelfth
century, but of the simplest kind. The Plaza de San Martin, to the north
of the cathedral, is picturesquely irregular; its north side is occupied
by a vast convent of St. Martin, and the ground slopes down steeply from
it to the cathedral. Here is the gayest and busiest market-place of the
town, and the best spot for studying the noisy cries and the bright
dresses of the Gallegan peasantry. They are to be seen on a Sunday,
especially, in all their finery,--bright, picturesque, and happy
looking, for those who can afford to dress smartly are happy, and those
who cannot don’t seem to come--selling and buying every possible kind of
ware, save, perhaps, the large stock of scallop-shells, which, though
they are kept for sale with due regard to the genius loci, seemed to me
never to attract any one to become a purchaser, and to adopt the badge
of St. James!
The whole of the northern front of the transept and church is
modernized. But to the east of it lies the little church used as the
Parroquia, and which will be better described when I go to the
interior, as externally it has no old feature save a simple little
window in its north wall.
[Illustration: Exterior of Chevet.]
A narrow passage from the Plaza de San Martin leads to the upper side of
a third Plaza opposite the east end; and here, though the cathedral has
been enclosed within square modern walls, there is fortunately just
enough left of the exterior of the eastern chapel and part of the apse
enclosed in a small court to explain its whole original design. The
entrance to this court is garnished with a number of statues, evidently,
I think, taken from a doorway, and perhaps from the destroyed north
doorway.[160] From this fragment of the chevet, it seems that the
eastern chapel was surrounded with a deeply recessed arcading, within
which were broad, round-arched windows with moulded archivolts carried
on shafts with sculptured capitals. The smaller chapels have
three-quarter shafts running up to the cornices placed between the
windows, and the corbel-tables at the eaves are simple and bold. The bay
between the chapels has a window occupying the whole space in width, and
above it is a small circular window, a feature which occurs in almost
exactly the same position in S. Sernin, Toulouse.[161] A string-course
is carried round the aisle wall above the roofs of the chapels, and the
wall is continued up to the same level as the walls of the aisles of the
church, and has alternately windows and arcading in its outer elevation.
This is perhaps the only serious difference between the design of this
church and that of S. Sernin. There the triforia are not carried round
the chevet, and consequently the aisle walls are not so lofty, and the
clerestory of the apse is shown in the usual way.
Continuing the circuit of the cathedral, we now reach the Plaza de los
Plateros, in front of the south transept. This is bounded on the west
side by the outer walls of the cloisters, and a broad flight of steps
all across the Plaza leads up to the transept. This has been to some
extent damaged by the erection of a lofty clock-tower projecting at its
south-east angle, in which are the clock and the bells. The rest of the
old façade is fortunately preserved. It has two doorways in the centre
division, and two grand and deeply recessed windows above them. The ends
of the aisles seem to have been similarly treated above. The finish of
the transept wall is modern, but there still remain two canopies in it,
under one of which is a figure of the Blessed Virgin, no doubt part of a
sculpture of the Annunciation.
The detail of the work in this front is of great interest, inasmuch as
it is clearly by another and an earlier workman than that of the western
part of the church. There are three shafts in each jamb of the doors,
whereof the outer are of marble, the rest of stone. These marble shafts
are carved with extreme delicacy with a series of figures in niches, the
niches having round arches, which rest upon carved and twisted columns
separating the figures. The work is so characteristic as to deserve
illustration. It is executed almost everywhere with that admirable
delicacy so conspicuous in early Romanesque sculpture. The other shafts
are twisted and carved in very bold fashion.
[Illustration: No. 18.
SANTIAGO CATHEDRAL p. 150.
SHAFTS IN SOUTH DOORWAY]
The jamb of this door retains an inscription deeply cut in large
letters, which appears to give the same date--Era 1116, 5 Ides of
July--that I have already quoted from the ‘Historia Compostellana.’ But
as the reading of this inscription is open to doubt, I think it well to
engrave it. This Era would make the date of these doors agree with the
commencement of the works. Figures on either side support the ends of
the lintels of the doors, but the tympana and the wall above for some
feet are covered with pieces of sculpture, evidently taken down and
refixed where they are now seen. They are arranged, in short, like the
casts at the Crystal Palace, as if the wall were part of a museum. One
of the stones in the tympanum of the eastern door has the Crowning with
Thorns and the Scourging; and on other stones above are portions of a
Descent into Hades, in which asses with wings are shown kneeling to our
Lord. Asses and other beasts are carved elsewhere, and altogether the
whole work has a rude barbaric splendour characteristic of its age.
[Illustration: Inscription on South Door.]
The windows above deserve special notice. Their shafts and archivolts
are very richly twisted and carved, and the cusping of the inner arch is
of a rare kind. It consists of five complete foils, so that the points
of the lowest cusp rest on the capital, and, to a certain extent, the
effect of a horseshoe arch is produced. This might be hastily assumed to
be a feature borrowed from the Moors; but the curious fact is that this
very rare form of cusping is seen in many, if not most, of the churches
of the Auvergnat type, to which reference has already been made, and it
must be regarded here, therefore, as another proof of the foreign origin
of most of the work at Santiago, rather than of any Moorish influence. I
have omitted to say that in addition to the other steeples there is a
modern dome over the crossing. The lower part of the lantern is old, and
the four piers which support it are somewhat larger than the rest.
The exterior of the cloister is rather Renaissance than Gothic in its
character, and has some picturesque small towers at the angles.
Altogether the impression which is first given here is of a church which
has been completely altered by Renaissance architects of rather a more
picturesque turn of mind than is usual; and the generally similar
character of the work in the Plazas on the several sides of the church
gives certainly a rather stately, though to me it was a very
disappointing, _tout ensemble_.
With such feelings about the exterior, the complete change in the
character of the work as one goes through the door is more than usually
striking, for you are at once transferred from what is all modern, to
what is almost all very old, uniform, and but little disturbed. The
interior of the transepts is very impressive; their length is not far
from equal to that of the nave, and the view is less interrupted than in
it, as the rails between the Coro and the Capilla mayor are very light,
and the stalls are all to the west of the crossing. The whole detail of
the design is extremely simple. The piers are alternated throughout the
church of the two sections given on my ground-plan. The capitals are all
carved, generally with foliage, but sometimes with pairs of birds and
beasts. Engaged columns run up from the floor to the vault, and carry
transverse ribs or arches below the great waggon-vault. The triforium
opens to the nave with a round arch, subdivided with two arches, carried
on a detached shaft. I have already described the construction, and I
need only add here that the buttresses, which appear on the ground-plan,
are all connected by arches thrown from one to the other, so that the
eaves of the roof project in front of their outside face. There is
consequently an enormous thickness of wall to resist the weight and
thrust of the continuous vault of the triforium, these arches between
the buttresses having been contrived in order to render the whole wall
as rigid and uniform in its resistance to the thrust as possible. The
height of the interior, from the floor to the centre of the barrel-vault
of the nave, is a little over seventy feet. This dimension is, of
course, insignificant if compared with the height of many later
churches; but it must be borne in mind that here there is no clerestory,
and that, owing to its absence, there is much less light in the upper
part of the church than is usual, and one consequence of this partial
gloom is a great apparent increase in the size of every part of the
building. The original windows remain throughout the greater part of the
church. In the aisles they have jamb-shafts inside, and in both aisles
and triforia there are jamb-shafts outside. Occasionally at the angles
of the aisles, and elsewhere where it was impossible to pierce the walls
for windows, sunk arcading, corresponding with them in outline and
detail, is substituted for them.
The chevet has been a good deal altered; most of the chapels remain, but
the columns and arches round the choir have all been destroyed, or, at
any rate, so covered over with modern work as to be no longer visible. A
thirteenth-century chapel has been added on the north of the apse, and a
small chapel of the fifteenth century and a large one of the
Renaissance period on its south-west side. The other alterations are
clearly indicated on the engraving of the ground-plan.
[Illustration: No. 19
SANTIAGO CATHEDRAL. p. 152.
INTERIOR OF SOUTH TRANSEPT, LOOKING NORTH-EAST]
I have already said that the existing Renaissance steeples at the west
end are built upon the lower portions of the original Romanesque towers.
The only peculiarity about these is the planning of their staircases.
The steps are carried all round the steeple in the thickness of the
wall, and the central space is made use of for a succession of small
chambers one over the other. These staircases are unusually wide and
good, and their mode of construction is obviously very strong.
The only other part of the church of the same age as the original fabric
is the detached chapel to the north-east of it. This seems to have had
originally no connexion whatever with the cathedral, the passage which
now leads to its western doorway from the north transept being quite
modern, and made for the reason already mentioned. Its western door is a
good late Romanesque work, with shafts in the jambs, and carved
capitals. The church itself consists of a nave and aisles of two bays in
length, and a chancel with an aisle on either side. The columns are
cylindrical, with carved capitals. The aisles have quadrant vaults, and
the nave a semi-circular ceiling, but I could not ascertain certainly
whether this was of plaster or stone. If the latter, then this little
church affords a very interesting example of the adaptation of precisely
the same mode of construction that we see in the great cathedral by its
side, viz. the waggon-vault in the nave supported on either side by the
quadrant vaults of the aisles.
[Illustration: Central Shaft of Western Doorway.]
It is now necessary to say something about what is to an architect the
chief glory of this noble church--its grand western entrance, fitly
called the Portico de la Gloria. On the whole, with no small experience
to warrant my speaking, and yet with a due sense of the rashness of too
general an approval, I cannot avoid pronouncing this effort of Master
Matthew’s at Santiago to be one of the greatest glories of Christian
art.[162] Its scale is not very grand, but in every other respect it is
quite admirable, and there is a freshness and originality about the
whole of the detail which cannot be praised too much. If we consider the
facts with which we are acquainted, we may understand how it is that it
has these great merits. Let us assume that Master Matthew was, as he no
doubt was, extremely skilled when the king sent him to Santiago with
his special warrant and recommendation. From that time until the happy
day came, after twenty years of anxious labour, when he was able to
write his inscription on the lintel of the door, it is probable that
this same man wrought on slowly but systematically on this great work.
During all this time he had but a very moderate opportunity of studying
similar works in his own neighbourhood, or of receiving incitement by
the competition of others of his craft; and I think the whole work bears
about it evidence that this was its history. There is up to a certain
point a conformity to common custom and precedent, and yet at the same
time a constant freshness and originality about it which seems to me to
show that its sculptor was not in the habit of seeing other similar
works during its progress. The figures are almost all placed in
attitudes evidently selected with a view to giving them life and
piquancy. But these attitudes are singularly unconventional; and though
they are by no means always successful to an eye educated in the
nineteenth century, they have all of them graces and merits which are
almost entirely unseen in the productions of nineteenth century
sculptors; whilst, again, in strong contrast to what is now almost the
invariable rule, there is no doubt that here we have the absolute
handiwork of the sculptor, and not a design only, the execution of which
has been relegated to a band of unknown and unrewarded assistants! The
detail of some of the smaller portions, as _e.g._ of the sculptured
shafts, is exquisitely refined and delicate, beautifully executed, and
with a singular appreciation, in some respects, of the good points of
classic sculpture.
The doorways are three in number, of which that in the centre opens into
the nave, and those on either side into the aisles. In front of these
doors is a western porch, of three groined divisions in width, the outer
face of which has been built up and concealed by the modern western
façade. The groining ribs of this porch are very richly decorated with
sculpture of foliage in their mouldings. The general design of the doors
will be best understood by reference to the engraving which I give of
them. The bases are all very bold, and rest generally on monsters. That
under the central shaft has a figure of a man with his arms round the
necks of two open-mouthed winged monsters;[163] whilst on the other side
is a figure of a person kneeling towards the east, in prayer, and about
life-size. The central shaft is of marble, and carved all over with the
tree of Jesse. The detail of this shaft is so delicate and
characteristic of the whole work, that I give an engraving of a portion
of it; nothing can be prettier or more graceful than the design, and the
execution is admirable. The corresponding shaft in either jamb is also
sculptured, but in these there is no story, the shafts being twisted
with carving of foliage and figures in the alternate members. The
capital of the central shaft has the figures of the Holy Trinity, with
angels on either side censing; and above is a grand sitting figure of
St. James, with a scroll in his right hand, and a palmer’s staff in the
other. His nimbus is studded with large crystals; but as none of the
other figures throughout the door have nimbi, I suspect it has been
added in his case. The main capital of the central shaft, above the
saint’s head, has on three sides the Temptation of our Lord, and on its
fourth side angels coming and ministering to Him.
The tympanum of this central door has a central seated figure of our
Lord, holding up His open hands. Around Him are the four Evangelists,
three of them with their emblematic beasts standing up on their hind
legs, with their paws in the Evangelists’ laps. Beyond them are angels
holding the various instruments of the passion, and above these angels a
multitude of small figures worshipping--the hundred and forty-four
thousand, many of them naked, _i.e._ free from sin. The archivolt is
perhaps the most striking feature in the whole work, having sitting
figures of the four-and-twenty elders arranged around its circumference,
in a manner at once quite original and singularly effective. The skill
and fancy shown in the treatment of this crowd of figures is beyond
praise, and there is a certain degree of barbaric splendour about the
profuse richness of the work which is wonderfully attractive. Traces
everywhere remain of the old delicate colouring with which the sculpture
was covered, and this just suffices to give a beautiful tone to the
whole work.
The side jambs have standing figures on a level with that of St. James.
On the north jamb are Jeremiah, Daniel, Isaiah, and Moses, and on the
opposite side St. Paul, and, I suppose, other New Testament saints,
though I could not tell which. The side doorways, though there is no
sculpture in their tympana, have figures corresponding with the others
in their jambs. Under the groining against the north wall is an angel
blowing a trumpet, and there are other angels against the springing of
the groining ribs holding children in their hands.
The whole scheme is, in fact, a Last Judgment, treated in a very
unconventional manner; the point which most invites hostile criticism
being the kind of equality which the sculptor has given to the figures
of our Lord and St. James, both being seated, and both in the central
position; and though the figure of the apostle is below that of his
Lord, it is still the more conspicuous of the two.
The design of the interior of the west end is peculiar. The doorway
occupies the same space in height as the nave arches; above it the
triforium is carried across over the porch, opening into the nave with
two divisions of the same arcade as in the side galleries. Above this is
a large circular window, with sixteen small cusps and a small pierced
quatrefoil on either side. These openings now all communicate with the
western triforium gallery; and I found it impossible to make out, to my
own satisfaction, what the original scheme of the west end could have
been. It does not appear clear whether there ever were any doors hung in
the doorways, but I think there never were; and, perhaps, as we are told
that the first church built over the body of the saint was of two stages
in height, and open at the ends[164] (somewhat like the curious church
still remaining at Naranco, near Oviedo), we may be safe in assuming
that this western porch was in the same way open to the air. Above it
the vault of the nave may have been prolonged between the towers, and
under this the circular window would have been seen from the outside as
it is still from the inside. Whether there was any direct access to this
western porch from the ground, may admit of question; but it seems
difficult to see how it would have been contrived without blocking up
the chapel below the porch, which I have already described.
The only remaining work of any importance is the cloister, with its
adjacent buildings,--the sacristies, chapter-room, library, &c. The
present erections show no relics whatever of the work which, as we have
seen, the Archbishop Diego Gelmirez undertook in the twelfth century. It
is uncertain, indeed, whether his constructions were on this side of the
church, for there are still remains of walls which seem to be coëval
with the church round a courtyard on the north side of the nave. The
cloisters now in existence are the work of Fonseca, afterwards
Archbishop of Toledo, and were commenced in A.D. 1533. As might be
expected by the date, there is very little Gothic character in their
design; they have the common late many-ribbed Spanish groining; and if
they have ever had traceries in the arches, these are now all destroyed.
The festival of St. James is celebrated with special solemnity whenever
it happens to fall upon a Sunday. Then the people, I was told, ascend a
staircase behind the altar, pass in front of some of his relics, and
descend by another staircase[165] on the other side. The body of the
saint is said to be contained in a stone tomb below the high altar,
which lies north and south, with a modern sarcophagus over it, and there
is a rather good old statue of him on horseback against the west wall of
the south transept.
The ritual arrangements here are the same as they usually are in Spain.
The Coro occupies four bays of the nave, and there is a passage railed
off between the Reja of the Coro and that of the Capilla mayor, and
there are not many altars now in use, but the number of clergy is very
great, and the church is constantly crowded with worshippers.
On a Sunday morning during my stay the Archbishop said Mass, and there
was a procession with tapers all round the church. As the slow chant
rose from among the dense crowd of worshippers, and the flickering
lights of the tapers struck here and there on the walls of the dark old
church, one of those pictures was produced which one must, I suppose, go
to Spain to see really in perfection. The number of communicants seemed
to be extremely small, but the number of those at confession unusually
large. The penitents have a way of kneeling with their cloaks held up
over them against the confessional, so that their heads are quite
concealed. Spanish women are fond of squatting on the floor, fanning
themselves, before an altar; but here they often kneel, with their arms
stretched out as in wild entreaty, for a long time together, and with
rather striking effect. I think I am within bounds in saying that fifty
or sixty priests are to be seen in this church at one time, some at the
altars, some hearing confessions, and others with a large staff of
singing men and boys in the choir.
I have but little more to say about Santiago. The churches seemed
everywhere to be modern, and, though some of them are very large,
extremely uninteresting. The streets are narrow, picturesque, and
winding, but with far fewer traces of any antiquity in the houses than
might have been expected. The only Gothic domestic building that I saw
is the great hospital, close to the cathedral, which has four fine
courts, and the principal entrance through a chapel or oratory, with an
altar in it. The detail of this work is, however, extremely late and
poor; it was founded in A.D. 1504 by Ferdinand and Isabella, Henrique de
Egas being the architect.
The interest which, as an architect, one must feel in a building which
is--as I have shown the cathedral here to be--a close copy of another
church in another country, is very great. And the only regret I feel is
that I am unable to give any evidence as to the nationality of the men
who wrought the exquisite work in the western porch. My feeling is
certainly strong that they must have been Frenchmen, and from the
district of Toulouse. This I infer from the execution of their work.
Moreover, I do not know where in Spain we are to find the evidence of
the existence of a school in which such artists could have been trained,
whilst at Toulouse no one can wander through the Museum in the
desecrated convent of the Augustines without recognizing the
head-quarters of a school of artists from among whom the sculptor of
Santiago might well have come thoroughly educated for his great work.
[Illustration: SANTIAGO DE COMPOSTELLA:--Ground Plan of the Cathedral
&c. Plate IX.]
From Galicia I travelled back by the same road along which I had already
journeyed as far as Leon; and from thence by Medina del Rio Seco--a
poor, forlorn, and uninteresting town--to Valladolid. The plain between
Leon and Valladolid is most uninteresting; and the whole journey from
the coast of Galicia to the last-named city is one of the most wearisome
I ever undertook. The occasional beauty of the scenery,--and on this
road it is oftentimes very beautiful,--does not prevent one’s feeling
rather acutely a diligence journey of sixty-six hours with few and short
pauses for meals; and the only solace--if solace it is--one has, is that
the _adalantero_ or postilion, who has to ride the whole distance, is in
infinitely worse case than oneself! Fortunately the least interesting
part of the road is now superseded by the opening of the railway from
Palencia to Leon.