CHAPTER IX.

SEGOVIA.

Few journeys can be made by the ecclesiologist in Spain which will be

altogether more agreeable or more fruitful of results than one to this

time-honoured city; for not only does it contain within its walls more

than the usual number of objects of architectural and ecclesiological

interest, but the road by which it is usually approached, across the

Sierra de Guadarrama, presents so much fine scenery as to be in itself

sufficient to repay the traveller for his work. It was from Madrid that

I made my way to Segovia, taking the railway as far as the little

station at Villalba, near the Escorial, and travelling thence by a

fairly-appointed diligence. The very fine and picturesque granite ranges

of the Guadarrama are generally bare and desolate on their southern

side, though here and there are small tracts of oak-copse, or fern, or

pine-trees; but, after a slow ascent of some three or four hours, when

the summit of the pass is reached, the character of the scenery changes

entirely, and the road winds down through picturesque valleys and dips

in the hills, which are here thickly covered everywhere with pine-trees

of magnificent growth. It is necessary to travel for a time in the

dismal plains of Old Castile, to enjoy to the full the sudden change to

the mountain beauties of the Guadarrama; and it is impossible not to

sympathize with the kings of Spain, who at La Granja, on the lower

slopes of the northern side of the range, have built themselves a palace

within easy reach of Madrid, and--owing to its height above the sea--in

a climate utterly different from, and much more endurable than, that of

the capital. Of the palace they have built I must speak with less

respect than I do of their choice of its site, for it is now untidy in

its belongings and apparently little cared for. A church forms the

centre of it, and the whole group of buildings has slated roofs,

diversified by an abundance of _tourelles_. The walls are all plastered

and covered with decaying paintings of architectural

decorations--columns, cornices, and the like--which give a thoroughly

pauperized look to the whole place. But probably the interior of the

palace and its famous gardens would correct the impression which I

received from a hurried inspection of the exterior only. It is an

uninteresting drive of about an hour from La Granja to Segovia. The

tower of the cathedral is seen long before reaching the city; but it is

not till one is very near to it that the first complete view is gained,

and this, owing to the way in which the Alcazar and cathedral stand up

upon a rocky height above the suburbs, and the streams which girt it on

either side, is very picturesque. Even finer is it as one drives on

through the suburb and first finds oneself in presence of the grand old

Roman aqueduct, which, still perfect and still in use, spans with its

magnificent ranges of arch upon arch the valley which separates the city

rock from the hills beyond. Its base is girt closely round by houses and

the diligence road passes under one of its arches, so that the enormous

scale upon which it is built is thoroughly appreciated, and it is quite

impossible not to admire the extreme simplicity and grandeur of the

work. Nothing here was done that was useless or merely ornamental, and

the whole still stands with but little repair--and that little well

done--after so many centuries of good service, as useful as at the

first.

A steep hill leads up from the valley below the aqueduct through a

gateway in the walls into the city, and after threading the narrow

winding streets we find ourselves in the fine Plaza de la Constitucion,

which is surrounded by picturesque balconied houses, save at its

north-west angle, where it opens so as to allow a fine view of the east

end of the cathedral. The houses have generally extremely picturesque

open upper stages of wood arcading, and the windows and balconies are

all gay with the heavy curtains which protect them from the sun.

The situation of the city is in every way striking. On either side of it

there is a deep valley, and these at their meeting have between them the

great rock on which the Alcazar is built--as admirably secure a site for

a castle as could have been selected. Going eastward along the narrow

ridge the cathedral is soon reached, and this is the centre of the city,

which then widens somewhat, before the edge of the hill is reached which

leads down to the suburb below the aqueduct. In the two valleys are some

of the best of the buildings: San Millan in one, the Templars’ Church

and the Convent of El Parral in the other; but most of the old churches

are crowded closely together on the summit of the hill.

I shall begin my architectural notes with the cathedral, in deference

only to its rank, and not at all to its age or architectural merits. It

is nevertheless a building of no little value in the history of Spanish

art, as being perhaps the latest Gothic building erected, and one which

was yet but little influenced by Renaissance art. In the Appendix I give

a translation of the interesting contemporary account of the church,

written by one Juan Rodriguez, who appears to have been the canon in

charge of the work. According to his account, Juan Gil de Hontañon, the

architect of Salamanca Cathedral, was appointed in A.D. 1522 to

superintend the work, and on the 8th of June in the same year the Bishop

ordered a procession, and, going himself to the site of the church, laid

its foundation-stone at the western end. Cean Bermudez, in his account

of this cathedral, speaks of a competition among several architects for

the work, and says that the design of Rodrigo Gil de Hontañon--the son

of Juan Gil--was selected.[185] But this seems to be clearly contrary to

the distinct statement of the Canon Juan Rodriguez. The work was

commenced, as we have seen, in 1522, and Juan Gil seems to have died

circa 1531. His son Rodrigo was not made Maestro mayor until 1560, and

on the 5th of August, 1563, laid the first stone of the Capilla mayor.

The inscription on his tombstone in the cloister[186] says that he laid

the first stone of the church; but if he did so it was on behalf of his

father, who was then undoubtedly the Maestro mayor, and we may assume, I

believe, that the greater part of the church, as we now see it, was

finished before the year 1577, in which he died, though, indeed, Madoz

says that the Sacrament was moved to the new cathedral as early as 1558,

though the chapels of the apse were not completed until 1593. The north

door, by Juanes de Mugaguren, was added in A.D. 1626, and is thoroughly

Pagan.

The plan[187] of this church must be compared with that of the new

cathedral at Salamanca, built by the same man. The details of the two

churches are very similar; but the scale of Segovia is slightly greater

than that of Salamanca, and it has the enormous advantage of having a

grand chevet in place of a square east end. It will be seen, on

reference to my account of Salamanca, that the architects who drew up

the scheme for the cathedral there, intended that its end should be

circular, but that nevertheless it has not been so built. It seems

probable, therefore, that Hontañon felt that this alteration was a

mistake, or else that we owe the amended plan of Segovia to the better

taste of his son Rodrigo, who was master of the works of the eastern

portion of the church. But in any case, whether it is to the father or

the son that we owe it, the internal effect is undoubtedly very noble,

in spite of all the shortcomings which must be looked for in a work of

such a date. The main columns are of grand dimensions, moulded, and

rising from lofty bases planned with that ingenious complication of

lines which was always so much affected by the later German and Spanish

architects. The arches are very lofty, and there is no triforium, but

only a traceried balustrade in front of the clerestory, which consists

of uncusped triplets filling the wall above the springing of the

groining, and very low in proportion to the great height of the church,

though at the same time amply sufficient for the admission of all the

light necessary in such a climate. The aisle has a somewhat similar

clerestory, but without the traceried balustrade which we see in the

nave clerestory, and the aisles and chapels are all lighted with

windows, each of one broad light. Most of the smaller arches here are

semi-circular; but though this is the case, and though so many of the

windows are of one light, there is no appearance anywhere of any attempt

to revive the form or detail of earlier work.

On the exterior the general character is just the same as that of

Hontañon’s work at Salamanca. There are the same pinnacles and

buttresses, the same parapets, and the same concealment of the roofs and

roof-lines everywhere--even in the transepts, which have no gables--and

there is also a domed lantern over the Crossing and a lofty tower at the

west end, finished with an octagonal stage covered with a dome, and

rising from between four great pinnacles. So great, in short, are all

the points of similarity, that I can well believe that portions of the

two works may have been executed from the same plans, and this close

copying of the earlier work at Salamanca may perhaps have been the true

reason of the respectably Gothic detail of the chevet, built as it was

so near the end of the sixteenth century. The groining is all of the

kind so common in Spain, having ogee lierne ribs in addition to the

diagonal, and in place of ridge ribs.

Not a little of the grand effect of the interior is owing to the rich

stained glass with which all, or nearly all, the windows are filled. It

is all, of course, of the very latest kind, and poor in much of its

design; yet nevertheless it is often magnificent in colour, and in this

respect quite beyond anything that most of our artists in glass seem to

me to accomplish nowadays. The Coro is here--and probably was from the

first--in the nave; but there is nothing either in its fittings or in

those of the Capilla mayor which struck me as worthy of note. The detail

of the central dome is quite Pagan, and here and there throughout the

work little indications of the same spirit peep out, and show how narrow

was the escape which the whole church had of being from first to last

executed in the Renaissance style.

With all its faults this church has grand points: this every one will

allow who has seen it rising in a noble pyramidal mass above the houses

of the town from the open space in front of the Alcazar, from whence all

its parts are seen to great advantage. Of the other subordinate

buildings I need not say much. The canon, whose account I give in the

Appendix, is much more enthusiastic about them than I was, for in truth

they are cold and tame in design and meagre in detail; and wanting the

effect of height and colour of the interior of the cathedral, want all

that makes it so striking. I saw no great, if any, difference of style

between the cloisters and the church; but they were the cloisters of the

old church, and were removed here by a contract entered into by one Juan

de Campero in 1524. Campero was one of the architects consulted as to

the rebuilding of Salamanca Cathedral, and was evidently a mason or

builder as well as an architect. I was not aware of the history of the

cloister when I was at Segovia, and I did not notice any evidence of the

work having been rebuilt and added to in the way described.

The cathedral is the largest and most important, but at the same time

the most modern mediæval building in Segovia; whilst, on the contrary,

one of the smallest, the church of the Templars, is also one of the most

ancient and curious; it is situated by the roadside just out of the

city, on its north-west side, and below the great rock which is crowned

by the Alcazar. The date of its consecration in A.D. 1208 is given by an

inscription which still remains in the interior, and which has been

incorrectly given by Cean Bermudez. It is as follows:--

Hæc sacra fundantes cœlesti sede locentur;

Atque suberrantes in eadem consocientur.

Dedicatio ecclesiæ beati Sepulchri Xrti

Idus Aprilis Era MCCXLVI. +.

[Illustration: No. 24.

SEGOVIA p. 184.

INTERIOR OF THE TEMPLARS CHURCH LOOKING N E.]

The plan is very peculiar.[188] The nave is dodecagonal, and has a small

central chamber enclosed with solid walls, round which the vaulted

nave forms a kind of aisle. This central chamber is of two storeys in

height, the lower entered by archways in the cardinal sides, and the

upper by a double flight of steps leading to a door in its western side.

The upper room is vaulted with a domical roof which has below it four

ribs, two parallel north and south, and two parallel east and west, and

it retains the original stone altar, arcaded on its sides with a

delicately wrought chevron enrichment and chevroned shafts. The upper

chapel is lighted by seven little windows opening into the aisle around

it. The room below the chapel has also a dome, with ribs on its under

side. On the east side of the building are the chancel and two chapels,

forming parallel apses, to the south of which is a low steeple, the

bottom stage of which is also converted into a chapel. The chapel in the

centre of the nave is carried up and finished externally with a pointed

roof, whilst the aisle is roofed with a lean-to abutting against its

walls. There are pilasters at the angles outside, small windows high up

in the walls, and a fine round-arched doorway on the western side. The

character of the whole of this interesting church is late Romanesque,

and its value is considerable, as being an accurately dated example. It

is not now used, the Templars having been suppressed in A.D. 1312.

Within a few minutes’ walk of this church of La Vera Cruz (for this is

its dedication) is the convent of El Parral, founded in the fifteenth

century,[189] by a Marquis de Villena, on a spot once so beautiful as to

give rise to the saying, “Los huertos del Parral, Paraiso terrenal,” but

now so dreary, desolate, decaying, and desecrated, that the eye refuses

to rest on it, and seeks relief by looking rather at the grand view of

the town on the rocky heights on the other side of the little valley.

Juan Gallego, a native of Segovia, was the master of the works here in

1459, and it is recorded that before beginning to construct the convent

he collected all the waters from the hill above its site, and

distributed them by aqueducts for the service of the convent. The

Capilla mayor was not commenced until A.D. 1472, in which year a

contract was drawn up with Bonifacio and Juan de Guas, of Segovia, and

Pedro Polido, of Toledo, binding them to complete the work within three

years, for the sum of 400,000 maravedis. Then the tribune of the Coro

was found to be too low for the taste of the monks, and it was taken

down and rebuilt by Juan de Ruesga, of Segovia, for 125,000 maravedis;

and by a contract signed in July, 1494, he bound himself to complete the

work before the end of the same year. After this, in 1529, Juan Campero,

whose name has already been mentioned in connexion with the rebuilding

of the cloister of the cathedral, undertook to raise the tower

twenty-nine feet.[190]

The ground-plan and general design of this church are very peculiar. The

accompanying sketch-plan[191] will explain them better than any words;

and, strange as the planning of the transepts looks, it is,

nevertheless, very fine in effect. This is mainly the result of the very

remarkable distribution of light. The western part of the church is

almost without windows, and the great western gallery coming forward

just half the length of the nave, adds much to the impression of gloom

at this end of the building. The eastern end seems to be by contrast all

window, being lighted by twelve large three-light windows, with statues

of the Apostles in their jambs. The effect of the brilliant light at the

east end, and the deep gloom of the west, is most impressive, and shows

how much architects may do by the careful distribution of light. Few old

buildings are altogether without some sign of attention to this

important element of beauty in building, whilst few modern buildings

seem to me ever to have been devised with even any thought of the

existence of such a phenomenon as a shadow! The front of the gallery is

elaborately panelled, and returned eastward on the north side, to form a

gallery in front of the organ; and on the south, to make a passageway to

the staircase by which the monks reached the Coro. The arch under the

gallery is struck from three centres and richly cusped, and the whole is

carried on a stone vault. A very richly carved and cusped doorway leads

from the south transept to the cloisters, and to an elaborately painted

chapel, which has been added on the south-east of the choir. The

exterior of the church and convent is poor and uninteresting, though

there is a rather fine double west door, with a statue of the Blessed

Virgin in the centre, and saints on either side in the jambs.

The conventual buildings deserve but little notice. In the modern

cloister--fast falling to ruin--are retained the traceried balustrades

which probably adorned the cloister built at the time of the foundation

of the convent.

[Illustration: No. 25.

SAN ESTEBAN, SEGOVIA. p. 187.

SOUTH-EAST VIEW OF CHURCH AND STEEPLE]

A very picturesque path loads up from El Parral into the city. The

effect of the Alcazar from hence is very imposing, the enormous

keep-tower which rises out of its western face being very prominent,

with its outline marked by round corner turrets projecting from the

angles so often seen in the old castles of Castile. Its walls, as well

as many others in the Alcazar, are covered with diapers in plaster, with

the pattern left slightly in relief, a mode of decoration which seems to

have been extremely popular in Segovia in the fourteenth and fifteenth

centuries. Until very lately this Alcazar was covered with picturesque

tall slated roofs, but, unfortunately, a fire has completely gutted the

whole building, and left nothing but the outside walls, which still,

however, are most imposing in their effect. The old town walls diverge

slightly from the Alcazar, and enclose the whole city; their outline is

broken picturesquely with towers, sometimes round and sometimes square,

and they wind about to suit the uneven and rugged surface of the rock on

which they are built. The gateways are not very remarkable, though

always effective. One of them is passed in coming from El Parral, and,

as soon as the town is reached, the noble steeple of San Esteban--one of

its finest architectural features--is seen in front.

I have seldom seen a better work than this. It is evidently one of a

large class, most of the other steeples here reproducing the unusual

arrangement of the angles. They are boldly splayed off, and in the

middle of the splay is set a shaft, which finishes with a sculptured

capital. The effect of this design is to give great softness of contour

to the whole steeple, and yet to mark boldly and broadly the importance

of the angles. The arcading of the various stages is richly and

admirably managed, and the details throughout are very pure and good. I

have found no evidence of its exact date, though it is evidently a work

of the first half of the thirteenth century.

The church to which this steeple belongs is remarkable for the remains

of an external cloister against the walls of the nave. There are several

churches here which have the same feature, and in other parts of this

book I have mentioned similar cases at Las Huelgas, Burgos, and at La

Antigua, Valladolid. It looks like an arrangement for keeping the

building cool, and is as good in its effect, as in so hot a climate it

must be convenient.

Of the early churches here none is altogether so fine as that of San

Millan. It stands in the southern valley, not far from the aqueduct, and

exactly on the opposite side of the town to the Templars’ Church. Like

that, too, it is outside the walls, and in a scantily-peopled suburb.

It consists of a nave and aisles,[192] all finished at the east end with

apses, and protected on both sides by cloisters similar to those of San

Esteban, save that they are confined to the sides, and do not return

across the west front. There is a low square lantern at the Crossing,

and transepts which do not project beyond the aisles, and hardly show

themselves, therefore, on the ground-plan. The central lantern is

finished with a corbel-table, roofed with a low tiled roof, and lighted

by a small window in each face. The apses are similar in style and

detail to most of the early Spanish apses, having engaged shafts at

intervals, richly wrought corbel-tables, and round-arched shafted

windows. Both the transepts probably had flat gables, with single

windows, like those in the apse, but the north transept has been

destroyed for the erection of a steeple, which seems to have formed no

part of the original plan. The most striking view of the church is from

the north-west. The west front is quite unaltered, save by the addition

of three little windows over the west door, and is a capital example of

simple Romanesque. The gables are all of the same pitch, and the aisle

walls are arcaded and pierced with windows above the cloister roofs. The

cloister is a very rich composition, the shafts being coupled, with

finely sculptured capitals, and the arches enriched with billet

mouldings. The corbel-tables and cornices to these cloisters have

evidently been carved at a date long after the original foundation of

the church, the edge of the eaves-cornice being cut in a rich

interlacing pattern of ivy-leaves, which cannot, I think, be earlier

than from A.D. 1250 to 1270, and the heads, figures, and foliage on the

corbels under it are all of the same character. There are fine north and

south doors here, and there is a local peculiarity in their design which

deserves notice. Their jambs consist of shafts set within very bold

square recesses; and the number of orders in the arch is double that of

those in the jamb, they being alternately carried on the capitals of the

shafts, and upon the square order of the jambs. The effect is good, the

bold spacing of the shafts, and the massiveness of the intermediate

square jambs, tending to give that effect of solidity which these early

Spanish architects never tired in their attempts to attain.

[Illustration: No. 26.

SAN MILLAN, SEGOVIA. p. 188.

NORTH-WEST VIEW.]

The interior of the church has been much modernized, but still enough

remains to render the whole scheme intelligible. The arcades between the

nave and aisles are all perfect; they are very plain, but spring from

carved capitals of large size. The capitals of the nave arcades have

their abaci planned with re-entering angles, so as exactly to fit the

plan of the two square orders of the archivolt. Some of the caps are of

foliage only, others are _historiés_; one I remember having all round it

the Adoration of the Magi, who are represented as large figures on

horseback, and produce a most strange effect in such a place. The cross

arches under the lantern are old, as also are those across the aisles,

but the roof of the nave is now all under-drawn with plaster, and there

are no means of telling precisely how it was originally covered; but, on

the whole, I incline to the belief that it must have had a cylindrical

vault, with quadrant vaults in the aisles, though it is possible, of

course, that it had a flat wooden ceiling. The square piers in the nave

favour this alternative, inasmuch as they seem to rise higher than they

would have done had the roof been a stone vault. The pilasters against

the aisle walls also run up to the level of the plate inside, and this

(though it is modern) is higher than the springing of the nave arcades,

and seems to prove that there have never been cross arches in the

aisles. The external walls of the aisles above the cloister roofs are

arcaded with plain arches between the pilasters, by which it is divided

into bays, and the aisle windows are set within these arches. The

lantern is modernized, but there still remain coupled cross ribs on its

under side, and these, though they are plastered, being similar to those

under the central vault of the Templars’ Church, are probably original.

I wish much that I could put my hands on some documentary evidence which

would fix the exact date of this very fine and interesting church, for,

from its importance, it may be considered to be a leading example; and

there is no doubt that it very largely influenced the other churches of

this important city. It is possible, however, from the character of some

of the detail, that part of it is older than the Templars’ Church,

consecrated, as we have seen, in A.D. 1208; though other parts of the

detail--as, for instance, that of the external cornices--cannot be

earlier than A.D. 1250-1270. Before the last of these dates, therefore,

I have no doubt the church was erected, though, as the arches are all,

or nearly all, semi-circular, the greater part of the work was probably

finished early in the century, if not in the twelfth century, and the

decorations may have been completed afterwards.[193]

The non-introduction of pointed arches is certainly in favour of the

earlier date, seeing that in the Templars’ Church most of the main

arches, rude as they are, are pointed; and were it not for the late

character of some parts of San Millan, and looking only to the character

of the plan and general design, I might have assumed its date to be

about A.D. 1150. It is possible that the cloisters were added after the

erection of the church.

The object of these external cloisters has been, I believe, matter of

considerable discussion, yet I confess that they always seemed to me to

be adopted mainly, if not solely, on account of the excessive heat in

Spain in summer, and to be well worth our imitation when we have to

erect churches in tropical climates. That they were confined very much

to certain localities is perfectly true, but this is constantly the

case, with local developments, in all parts of Europe; and here, no

doubt, the idea once suggested by some early architect was frequently

repeated by him, without taking the fancy of his brethren generally

enough to make them repeat it elsewhere.

[Illustration: Capital in Cloister, San Martin, Segovia.]

Another example of the same class, which in its original state must have

been finer than San Millan, is to be seen in the church of San Martin.

Here the cloister was carried not only along the sides, but across the

west front also, with a bold projecting west porch, breaking its lines,

and giving great character and dignity to the whole scheme. The west

doorway of the porch has statues in its jambs, and the detail seems to

me to be all genuine thirteenth century work. The illustration of one of

the cloister capitals will, I think, prove this; for though the old

favourite device of couples of birds is repeated here, the lines are all

extremely fine and graceful, and the carving of the abacus of an

advanced kind. This church is, unfortunately, very much modernized

throughout. It seems to have had three parallel apses at the east end,

and transepts, against which the side cloisters of the nave were

stopped. There is a modern lantern over the old crossing, and a tower to

the west of it rising from out of the centre of the nave, which seems to

be in part old. There were northern and southern as well as western

doors, and openings in the cloister opposite each of them.

San Roman, a desecrated church near the palace of the civil governor,

has a short nave, chancel, and apse, with a tower on the south side of

the chancel. The walls are very lofty, and are all finished with

corbel-tables at the eaves. The apse has three round-headed windows, and

there is a noble north door, similar in design to those of San Millan,

and with the abaci and labels richly carved. The west end has a small

doorway, and a circular window over it, the former certainly, and the

latter probably, not original. The lower stage only of the tower

remains. This church must be of about the same age as San Millan.

San Facundo is similar in plan to San Roman, and of the same date. The

detail of the apse is precisely the same as that of San Millan. There is

a large west door, modernized, and an open cloister seems to have been

added at a later date to the side of the church, and is now walled up.

This church is desecrated, and converted into a Museum of Paintings.

Santa Trinidad has a fine apse, and this is again of the San Millan

pattern. It has carved stringcourses at the springing of the windows,

and again just over their arches, and there are three-quarter engaged

wall-shafts between the windows, and a richly sculptured eaves-cornice

and corbel-table.

San Nicolas, close to Santa Trinidad, has two apses, each lighted with a

single window, engaged wall-shafts, and the usual carved labels, abaci,

and corbel-tables. The tower is on the north side, rises one stage above

the roof, and is lighted with two round-arched belfry windows. A small

apse was added rather later than the original fabric to the east of this

tower, and before its erection the plan must have been almost the same

as that of San Roman, but reversed. About a hundred yards from San

Nicolas is another church which is almost an exact repetition of San

Roman.

San Luine (?), in the Plazuela de Capuchinos, is of just the same class

as the rest, with nave, chancel, and apse, and a second apse east of the

tower on the south side. There are no side windows here, and only a

single light at the east end.

Another church, in the Plaza de Isabel II., is of the same plan as the

last, with a modernized tower. The carving on the string-courses here

is of the same kind of natural foliage that I have described at San

Millan.

Near the aqueduct are two churches. One of them, S. Antholin (I think),

has a tower at the north-east of the nave; its two upper stages have on

each face two round-arched shafted windows, and the angles are treated

in a precisely similar way to those of San Esteban, having bold splays

with engaged shafts in their centres. Another church close to this is

modernized, but retains its old tower, with the angles treated in the

same way.

The church of San Juan has remains of an external cloister on one side.

The last church of this long, and I fear very dry, catalogue, is that of

San Miguel, which stands in the Plaza near the cathedral. It has four

bays of nave, shallow transepts, and a very short choir, which is, I

think, apsidal, but almost concealed by a pagan Retablo. The whole is of

late fifteenth-century date, and must, I think, be the work of the same

hand as the cathedral. Some figures at the west end, representing St.

Michael and the Annunciation, have evidently been taken from some older

building, and built into the walls here. There is a very beautiful

triptych in the north transept, with a Descent from the Cross in the

centre, which ought to be looked at. It is a fine work of, I suppose,

the latter part of the sixteenth century.[194]

I have already mentioned the great Alcazar, and the old town walls and

gateways. They are magnificent in their scale, and very picturesque. The

Alcazar was burnt some two or three years ago, and is now roofless, and

I was told that its interior had been completely destroyed. I foolishly

omitted to verify this statement by personal inspection, and contented

myself with the sight of the exterior. The walls of the front towards

the city are all diapered in plaster, and here and there about the town

several other examples of the same kind of work are to be seen. The

patterns are generally tracery patterns of the latest Gothic, repeated

over and over again, so as to produce a regular diaper throughout. I

presume that it was executed with a frame cut out to the required

pattern, so as to allow of the ground being cut back slightly, leaving

the pattern lines formed in the original face of the plaster. This kind

of decoration seems to be perfectly legitimate, and here, owing to the

care with which the plaster has been made and used, it has stood

remarkably well, though most of the patterns that I saw had evidently

been executed in the fifteenth century.

In the front of the Alcazar these plaster patterns are carried not only

all over the plain face of the walls, but also round the towers and

turrets at the angles, so that the very smallest possible amount of

wrought stone is introduced. The great tower or keep standing back a few

feet only from the front is similarly ornamented, but has stone quoins

bonded irregularly into the walls; in its upper stage it has windows

surmounted by quaint stone canopies, and then a series of great circular

turrets, corbelled boldly out from the face of the wall, and carried up

a considerable height, give its extremely marked and Spanish air to this

grand tower. These turrets are of stone, and between them is a parapet

boldly corbelled out on machicoulis from the walls. With that contempt

for uniformity which marks mediæval artists, the keep is more than twice

as broad on one side as on the other, and the great mass of wall and

turret, roofs and spirelets, which crowned the whole building before the

fire, well sustained its picturesque irregularity of shape.

The front of a private house near the walls, not far from San Esteban,

is another capital example of the same kind of plaster-work. Here the

façade is a perfectly smooth and unbroken surface, pierced for doors and

windows, which are set in square panels of stone, and with a regular and

straight line of stone quoining at the angles. At one end a low tower is

carried up a few feet above the general line of the building. The

windows are generally mere plain square openings; but two set side by

side in the principal stage have delicate _ajimez_ windows of two

lights, with elaborately traceried heads. The patterns in the plaster

are three in number: the first carried from the stone plinth up to the

sills of the principal windows, where it is cut by a narrow band of

ornament, acting as a stringcourse to divide it from the second pattern,

which is carried up to the eaves, the tower being covered with a third

diaper, rather less intricate than the others.

Near this house is a tower in the walls even more worthy of notice. It

is of very considerable height, quite plain in outline, and pierced with

only one or two square-headed windows, but surmounted by a fine parapet

supported on machicoulis. The whole tower is built with bold stone

quoins and horizontal bands of brickwork, each band two courses in

height, at intervals of about three feet. Between these bands the walls

are plastered and diapered. Here, as in the other house, only two or

three patterns are used, but I think great judgment is shown in the

repetition for the greater part of the height of the same pattern, which

is changed at last near the top, where it was desirable to emphasize the

work. Most men having three patterns to use would have divided them

equally, but the real artist gives all their value to his simple

materials by not doing so. The construction of this tower led naturally

to its decoration. The wrought stone at the angles, the rough stonework

of the walls, and the occasional bonding-courses of brick, were all used

simply as the best materials for their respective parts; and the rough

stonework being plastered and diapered, gave a richness and polish to

the whole work which it would otherwise have wanted, whilst it in no

degree destroyed the air of stability of the wall, which is secured by

the obviously constructional arrangement of the stone and brick.

The Moors were always distinguished by the beautiful use they made of

plaster; and whether or no these Segovian buildings were executed by

Moorish architects, it is quite certain that at any rate we owe them to

their influence and example. The patterns used are generally such as in

stone-work would be unhesitatingly attributed to the end of the

fifteenth or first half of the sixteenth century, and to this period no

doubt the works I have been describing belong. They deserve a detailed

notice because they prove, as do most Moorish works, that plaster may be

used truthfully and artistically, and that without any approach to the

contemptible effect which the imbecility and dishonesty of the

nineteenth-century designers of plaster-work have contrived to impress

on almost all their productions.

My last work in Segovia was to go to the Alcazar to get a sketch of the

town, with the cathedral rising in a noble mass in its very centre,

backed by the line of the Guadarrama mountains, looking black and angry

with the storm-clouds which swept over the sky and around their summits

at sunset; and then strolling quietly back into the town, I went into

the cathedral, to be impressed, as one always must be in such a place,

by the aweful solemnity which even the latest Gothic architects in Spain

knew how to impart to their buildings.

[Illustration: SEGOVIA:--Ground Plan of the Cathedral: Plate XII.

W. West, Lithr. Published by John Murray, Albemarle St. 1865.]

Some Account of Gothic Architecture in Spain · 第 9 / 23 章