was most likely begun in the first half of the twelfth century;
successive earthquakes suffered by the city, especially that felt in
Lisbon in 1755, obliged the edifice to be repaired more than once, which
accounts for many of the base additions which spoil the ensemble.
From the general disposition of the building, which is similar in many
details to the cathedral at Lugo, it has been thought probable that
Maestro Raimundo (father?) was the builder of the church; definite
proofs are, however, lacking.
The ground-plan is rectangular, with a square apse; the interior is
Roman cruciform, consisting of a nave and two aisles; the transept, like
that of Santiago, is also composed of a nave and two aisles; the four
arms of the cross are all of them very short, and almost all are of the
same length. Were it not for the height of the nave, crowned by a
Romanesque triforium of blinded arches, the interior would be decidedly
ugly. However, the height attained gives a noble aspect to the whole,
and what is more, renders the ensemble curious rather than beautiful.
The large and ungainly choir spoils the general view of the nave,
whereas the continuation of the aisles, broad and light to the very
apse, where, facing each aisle, there is a handsome rose window which
throws a flood of coloured light into the building, cannot be too highly
praised.
The walls are devoid of all decoration, and if it were not for the
chapels, some of which in default of pure workmanship are richly
ornamented, this see of Tuy would have to pass as a very poor one
indeed.
The roof of the building has been added lately, doubtless after one of
the many earthquakes. It is of a simple execution, neither good nor bad,
composed of a series of slightly rounded arches with pronounced ribs.
It is outside, however, that the tourist will pass the greater part of
his time. Unluckily, the houses which closely surround the building
forbid a general view from being obtained of any but the western front,
yet this is perhaps a blessing, for none of the other sides are worthy
of special notice.
As mentioned, the appearance of the church is that of a fortress rather
than of a temple, or better still, is that of a feudal castle. The
crenelated square tower on the western front is heavy, and no higher
than the peaked and simple crowning of the handsome Romanesque window
above the narthex; the general impression is that of resistance rather
than of faith, and the lack of all decoration has caused the temple to
be called sombre.
The handsome narthex, the summit of which is crenelated like the tower,
is the simplest and noblest to be found in Galicia, and is really
beautiful in its original severity. Though dating from a time when
florid ogival had taken possession of Spain, the artist who erected it
(it is posterior to the rest of the building--early fifteenth
century) had the good taste to complete it simply, without
decoration, so as to render it homogeneous with the rest of the
building. It is also possible that there were no funds at hand for him
to erect it otherwise!
[Illustration: TUY CATHEDRAL]
The doors stand immediately behind this narthex. The portal is carved or
decorated in an elaborate late Romanesque style, one of the most richly
ornamented porticos belonging to this school in Spain, and a handsome
page in the history of Galician art in the twelfth century. The low
reliefs above the door and in the tympanum of the richly carved arcade,
are _felt_ and are admirably executed.
The northern entrance to the building is another fine example of
twelfth-century Spanish, or Galician Romanesque. Though simpler in
execution than the western front, it nevertheless is by some critics
considered purer in style (earlier?) than the first mentioned.
The tower which stands to the left of the northern entrance is one of
the few in the Romanesque style to be seen in northern Spain; it is
severe in its structure and pierced by a series of round-headed windows.
The cloister dating from the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries is
another of Galicia's monuments well worth a visit, which proves the
local mixture of Romanesque and ogival, and is, perhaps, the last
example on record, as toward the fifteenth century Renaissance elements
had completely captured all art monuments.
Such is the cathedral of Tuy, a unique example of Galician Romanesque in
certain details, an edifice that really ought to be better known than it
is.
VII
BAYONA AND VIGO
The prettiest bay in Galicia is that of Vigo, which reaches inland to
Redondela--a village seated, as it were, on a Swiss lake, with two
immense viaducts passing over its head where the train speeds to Tuy and
Santiago. There is no lovelier spot in all Spain.
The city of Vigo, with its suffragan church on the hillside, is a modern
town dedicated to commerce; its wharves are important, and the water in
the bay is deep enough to permit the largest vessels afloat to enter and
anchor. The art student will not linger here, however, but will go by
boat to Bayona outside the bay and to the south near the Portuguese
frontier.
Here, until quite recently, stood for an unknown length of time the
suffragan church which has now been removed to Vigo. But Bayona, once
upon a time the most important seaport in Galicia, is a ruin to-day, a
delightful ruin, and one of the prettiest in its ensemble, thanks to the
beautiful and weird surroundings.
Its history extends from the times of the Phoenicians, Greeks, and
Romans,--even earlier, as remains of lake-dwellers have been found. This
statement is not an exaggeration, though it may appear to be one, for
the bay is as quiet as a lake.
After the defeat of the Armada, Bayona was left a prey to Drake and his
worthy companions. They dealt the city a death-blow from which it has
never recovered, and Vigo, the new, the commercial, has usurped its
importance, as it did its church, which once upon a time, as is
generally believed, was a bishopric.
The present ruinous edifice of Bayona is peculiarly Galician and shows
the same characteristics as the remaining cathedrals we have spoken
about so far. It was ordained in 1482 by the Bishop of Tuy. The windows
of the nave (clerestory) are decidedly pointed or ogival; those of the
aisles are pure Romanesque. The peculiar feature is the use of animal
designs in the decorative elements of the capitals,--a unique example
in Galicia, where only floral or leaf motives were used in the best
period of Romanesque. The design to be noticed here on one of the
capitals is a bird devouring a toad, and it is so crudely and rustically
carved that one is almost inclined to believe that a native of the
country conceived and executed it.
_PART III_
_The North_
I
OVIEDO
"Oviedo was born of a religious inspiration; its first building was a
temple (monastery?), and monks were its first inhabitants."
In the valley adjoining Cangas, in the eighth century, the most
important village in Asturias, a religious sect erected a monastery.
Froila or Froela, one of the early noblemen (now called a king, though
he was no king in those days) who fought against the Moors, erected in
the same century a church in the vicinity of Cangas (in Oviedo?),
dedicating it to the Saviour; he also built a palace near the same spot.
His son, Alfonso the Chaste, born in this palace, was brought up in a
convent near Lugo in Galicia. Upon becoming king he hesitated whether to
establish his court in Lugo, or in the new village which had been his
birthplace, namely Oviedo. At length, remembering perhaps his father's
love for the country near Cangas, he established it in the latter place
in the ninth century, and formed the kingdom of Asturias as opposed to
that of Galicia; the capital of the new kingdom was Oviedo.
"The king gave the city to the Saviour and to the venerable church built
by his father, and which, like a sun surrounded by its planets, he
placed within a circle of other temples.
"He convocated an ecclesiastical council with a view to establish a
primate see in Oviedo; he maintained an assembly of prelates who lent
lustre to the church, and he gave each a particular residence; the
spiritual splendour of Oviedo eclipsed even the brilliancy of the
throne."
This was in 812, and the first bishop consecrated was one Adulfo.
The subsequent reign of Alfonso was signalized by the discovery in
Galicia of the corpse of St. James the Apostle. The sovereign, it
appears, showed great interest in the discovery, established a church on
the sacred spot, and generously donated the nascent town. Not without
reason did posterity celebrate his many Christian virtues by calling
him the Chaste, _el Casto_.
Two hundred years only did Oviedo play an important part in the history
of Spain as capital of the Christian Kingdom. In 1020 its civil
dignities were removed by Alfonso V. to Leon in the south. From then on
the city remained important only as the alleged cradle of the new
dynasty, and its church--that of the Salvador--was used as the pantheon
of the kings.
In the twelfth century the basilica was in a ruinous state, and almost
completely destroyed. The fate of the Romanesque edifice which was then
built was as short as the city's glory had been ephemeral, for in 1380
it was destroyed by flames, and in its place the first stone of the
present building was laid by one Bishop Gutierre. One hundred and
seventy years later the then reigning prelate placed his coat of arms on
the spire, and the Gothic monument which is to-day admired by all who
visit it was completed.
The history of the city--an ecclesiastical and civil metropolis--is
devoid of interest since the tenth century. It was as though the streets
were too crowded with the legends of the fictitious kingdom of Asturias,
to be enabled to shake off the depression which little by little spread
over the whole town.
Apart from its cathedral, Oviedo and the surrounding country possesses
many of the earliest religious monuments in Spain, dating from the
eighth century. These, on account of their primary Romanesque and
basilica style, form a chapter apart in the history of ecclesiastical
architecture, and ought to be thoroughly studied. This is not the place,
however, to speak about them, in spite of their extreme age and the
great interest they awaken.
Nothing could be more graceful than the famous tower of the cathedral of
Oviedo, which is a superb Gothic _fleche_ of well-proportioned elements,
and literally covered over and encrusted with tiny pinnacles. Slender
and tapering, it rises to a height of about 280 feet. It is composed of
five distinct bodies, of which the penultimate betrays certain
Renaissance influences in the triangular cornices of the windows, etc.;
this passes, however, entirely unperceived from a certain distance. The
angles formed by the sides of the tower are flanked by a pair of slender
shafts in high relief, which tend to give it an even more majestic
impression than would be the case without them.
[Illustration: OVIEDO CATHEDRAL]
The cathedral itself is a late ogival building belonging to the
fifteenth century; though it cannot compare in fairy-like beauty with
that of Leon, nor in majesty with that of Burgos, it is nevertheless one
of the richest Gothic structures in Spain, especially as regards the
decoration of the interior.
The western front is entirely taken up by the triple portal, surmounted
by arches that prove a certain reluctance on the builder's part to make
them pointed; the northern extremity of the front is devoid of a tower,
though the base be standing. It was originally intended to erect a
second _fleche_ similar to the one described, but for some reason or
other--without a doubt purely financial--it was never built.
Of the three portals, that which corresponds to the central nave is the
larger; it is flanked by the only two statuettes in the whole front,
namely, by those of Alfonso the Chaste and Froela, and is surmounted by
a bold low relief. The arches of the three doors are richly carved with
ogival arabesques, and the panels, though more modern, have been wrought
by the hand of a master.
Taken all in all, this western front can be counted among the most
sombre and naked in Spain, so naked, in fact, that it appears rather as
though money had been lacking to give it a richer aspect than that the
artist's genius should have been so completely devoid of decorative
taste or imagination.
The interior of the Roman cruciform building, though by no means one of
the largest, is, as regards its architectural disposition, one of the
most imposing Gothic interiors in Spain. High, long, and narrow, the
central nave is rendered lighter and more elegant by the bold triforium
and the lancet windows of the upper clerestory wall. The wider aisles,
on the other hand, are dark in comparison to the nave, and tend to give
the latter greater importance.
This was doubtless the intention of the primitive master who terminated
the aisles at the transept by constructing chapels to the right and to
the left of the high altar and on a line with it. The sixteenth-century
builders thought differently, however, and so the aisles were prolonged
into an apsidal ambulatory behind the high altar. This part of the
building is far less pure in style than the primitive structure, and the
chapels which open to the right and to the left are of a more recent
date, and consequently even more out of harmony than the plateresque
ambulatory. The three rose windows in the semicircular apse are richly
decorated with ogival nervures, and correspond, one to the nave and one
to each of the aisles; they belong to the primitive structure, having
illuminated the afore-mentioned chapels.
Standing beneath the _croisee_, under a simple ogival vaulting, the ribs
of which are supported by richly carved capitals and elegant shafts, the
tourist is almost as favourably impressed by the view of the high altar
to the east and of the choir to the west, as is the case in Toledo. For
in Oviedo begins that series of Gothic churches in which the aesthetic
impression is not restricted to architectural or sculptural details
alone, but is also produced by the blinding display of metal, wood, and
other decorative accessories.
The _retablo_--a fine Gothic specimen--stands boldly forth against the
light coming from the apse in the rear, while on the opposite side of
the transept handsome, deep brown choir stalls peep out from behind a
magnificent iron _reja_. So beautiful is the view of the choir's
ensemble that the spectator almost forgives it for breaking in upon the
grandeur of the nave.
The chapels buried in the walls of the north aisle have most of them
been built in too extravagant a manner; the south aisle, on the other
hand, is devoid of such characteristic rooms, but contains some highly
interesting tomb slabs.
The cloister to the south of the church is a rich and florid example of
late ogival; it is, above all, conspicuous for the marvellous variety of
its decorative motives, both as regards the sculptural scenes of the
capitals (which portray scenes in the lives of saints and Asturian
kings, and are almost grotesque, though by no means carved without fire
and spirit) and the fretwork of the arches which look out upon the
garth.
The Camara Santa, or treasure-room, is an annex to the north of the
cathedral, and dates from the ninth or tenth century; it is small, and
was formerly used as a chapel in the old Romanesque building torn down
in 1380. Beside it, in the eleventh century, was constructed another and
larger room in the same style, with the characteristic Romanesque
vaulting, the rounded windows, and the decorative motives of the massive
pillars and capitals.
[Illustration: CLOISTER OF OVIEDO CATHEDRAL]
II
COVADONGA
To the battle of Covadonga modern Spain owes her existence, that is, if
we are to believe the legends which have been handed down to us, and
which rightfully or wrongfully belong to history. Under the
circumstances, it is not surprising that the gratitude of later monarchs
should have erected a church on the site of the famous battle, and
should have raised it to a collegiate church.
Covadonga lies in the vicinity of Oviedo, in a ravine lost in the heart
of the Picos de Europa; it is at once the Morgarten and Sempach of
Spanish history, and though no art monuments, excepting the above named
monastic church and two Byzantine-Romanesque tombs, are to be seen,
there is hardly a visitor who, having come as far north as Oviedo, does
not pay a visit to the cradle of Spanish history.
Nor is the time lost. For the tourist who leaves the capital of
Asturias with the intention of going, as would a pilgrim, to Covadonga
(by stage and not by rail!) will be delightfully surprised by the weird
and savage wildness of the country through which he is driven.
Following the bed of a river, he enters a ravine; up and up climbs the
road bordered by steep declivities until at last it reaches a wall--a
_cul-de-sac_ the French would call it--rising perpendicularly ahead of
him. Half-way up, and on a platform, stands a solitary church; near by a
small cave, with an authentic (?) image of the Virgin of Battles and two
old sepulchres, is at first hidden from sight behind a protruding mass
of rock.
The guide or cicerone then explains to the tourist the origin of Spanish
history in the middle ages, buried in the legends, of which the
following is a short extract.
Pelayo, the son of Dona Luz and Duke Favila, who, as we have seen, was
killed by Witiza in Tuy, fled from Toledo to the north of Spain, living
among the savage inhabitants of Asturias.
A few years later, when Rodrigo, who was king at the time, and by some
strange coincidence Pelayo's cousin as well, lost the battle of
Guadalete and his life to boot, the Arabs conquered the whole peninsula
and placed in Gijon, a seaport town of Asturias, a garrison under the
command of one Munuza. The latter fell desperately in love with Pelayo's
sister Hermesinda, whom he had met in the village of Cangas. Wishing to
get the brother out of the way, he sent him on an errand to Cordoba,
expecting him to be assassinated on the road. But Pelayo escaped and
returned in time to save his sister; mad with wrath and swearing eternal
revenge, he retreated to the mountainous vales of Asturias, bearing
Hermesinda away with him. He was joined by many refugee Christians
dissatisfied with the Arab yoke, and aided by them, made many a bold
incursion into the plains below, and grew so daring that at length
Munuza mustered an army two hundred thousand (!) strong and set out to
punish the rebel.
Up a narrow pass between two high ridges went the pagan army, paying
little heed to the growing asperity and savageness of the path it was
treading.
Suddenly ahead of the two hundred thousand a high sheet of rock rose
perpendicularly skywards; on a platform Pelayo and his three hundred
warriors, who somehow or other had managed to emerge from a miraculous
cave where they had found an effigy of the Virgin of Battles, made a
last stand for their lives and liberties.
Immediately a shower of stones, beams, trunks, and what not was hurled
down into the midst of the heathen army by the three hundred warriors.
Confusion arose, and, like frightened deer, the Arabs turned and fled
down the path to the vale, pushing each other, in their fear, into the
precipice below.
Then the Virgin of Battles arose, and wishing to make the defeat still
more glorious, she caused the whole mountain to slide; an avalanche of
stones and earth dragged the remnants of Munuza's army into the ravine
beneath. So great was the slaughter and the loss of lives caused by this
defeat, that "for centuries afterward bones and weapons were to be seen
in the bed of the river when autumn's heat left the sands bare."
This Pelayo was the first king of Asturias, the first king of Spain,
from whom all later-date monarchs descended, though neither in a direct
nor a legitimate line, be it remarked in parenthesis. The tourist will
be told that it is Pelayo's tomb, and that of his sister, that are still
to be seen in the cave at Covadonga. Perhaps, though no documents or
other signs exist to bear out the statement. At any rate, the sepulchres
are old, which is their chief merit. The monastical church which stands
hard by cannot claim this latter quality; neither is it important as an
art monument.
III
LEON
The civil power enjoyed by Oviedo previous to the eleventh century moved
southwards in the wake of Asturias's conquering army. For about a
century it stopped on its way to Toledo in a fortress-town situated in a
wind-swept plain, at the juncture of two important rivers.
Leon was the name of this fortress, one of the strategical points, not
only of the early Romans, but of the Arabs who conquered the country,
and later of the nascent Christian kingdom of Asturias. In the tenth
century, or, better still, toward the beginning of the eleventh, and
after the final retreat of the Moors and their terrible general
Almanzor, Leon became the recognized capital of Asturias.
When the Christian wave first spread over the Iberian peninsula in the
time of the Romans, the fortress Legio Septima, established by
Trajanus's soldiers, had already grown in importance, and was considered
one of the promising North Spanish towns.
The inhabitants were among the most fearless adherents of the new faith,
and it is said that the first persecution of the martyrs took place in
Leon; consequently, it is not to be wondered at that, as soon as
Christianity was established in Iberia, a see should be erected on the
blood-soaked soil of the Roman fortress. (First known bishop, Basilides,
252 A. D.)
Marcelo seems to have been the most stoically brave of the many Leonese
martyrs. A soldier or subaltern in the Roman legion, he was daring
enough to throw his sword at the feet of his commander, who stood in
front of the regiment, saying:
"I obey the eternal King and scorn your silent gods of stone and wood.
If to obey Caesar is to revere him as an idol, I refuse to obey him."
Stoic, with a grain of sad grandeur about them, were his last words when
Agricolanus condemned him to death.
"May God bless you, Agricolano."
And his head was severed from his body.
The next religious war to be waged in and around Leon took place
between Christians and the invading Visigoths, who professed a doctrine
called Arrianism. Persecutions were, of course, ripe again, and the
story is told of how the prior of San Vicente, after having been
beheaded, appeared in a dream to his cloister brethren trembling behind
their monastic walls, and advised them to flee, as otherwise they would
all be killed,--an advice the timid monks thought was an explicit order
to be immediately obeyed.
The conversion of Recaredo to Christianity--for political reasons
only!--stopped all further persecution; during the following centuries
Leon's inhabitants strove to keep away the Arab hordes who swept
northwards; now the Christians were overcome and Allah was worshipped in
the basilica; now the Asturian kings captured the town from Moorish
hands, and the holy cross crowned the altar. Finally the dreaded infidel
Almanzor burnt the city to the ground, and retreated to Cordoba. Ordono
I., following in his wake, rebuilt the walls and the basilica, and from
thenceforward Leon was never again to see an Arab army within its gates.
Prosperity then smiled on the city soon to become the capital of the
kingdom of Asturias. The cathedral church was built on the spot where
Ordono had erected a palace; the first stone was laid in 1199.
The traditions, legends, and historical events which took place in the
kingdom's capital until late in the thirteenth century belong to Spanish
history, or what is known as such. Ordono II. was mysteriously put to
death, by the Counts of Castile, some say; Alfonso IV.--a monk rather
than a king--renounced his right to the throne, and retired to a convent
to pray for his soul. After awhile he tired of mumbling prayers and,
coming out from his retreat, endeavoured to wrest the sceptre from the
hands of his brother Ramiro. But alas, had he never left the cloister
cell! He was taken prisoner by his humane brother, had his eyes burnt
out for the pains he had taken, and died a few years later.
Not long after, Alfonso VII. was crowned Emperor of Spain in the church
of San Isidoro, an event which marks the climax of Leon's fame and
wealth. Gradually the kings moved southwards in pursuit of the
retreating Moors, and with them went their court and their patronage,
until finally the political centre of Castile and Leon was established
in Burgos, and the fate that had befallen Oviedo and Lugo visited also
the one-time powerful fortress of the Roman Legio Septima.
To-day? A dormant city on a baking plain and an immense cathedral
pointing back to centuries of desperate wars between Christians and
Moors; a collegiate church, far older still, which served as cathedral
when Alfonso VII. was crowned Emperor of Spain.
_Pulchra Leonina_ is the epithet applied to the beautiful cathedral of
Leon, dedicated to the Ascension of Our Lady and to Nuestra Senora de la
Blanca.
The first stone was laid in 1199, presumably on the spot where Ordono I.
had erected his palace; the construction of the edifice did not really
take place, however, until toward 1250, so that it can be considered as
belonging to the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries.
"Two hundred years only did the temple enjoy a quiet life. In the
sixteenth century, restorations and additions were begun; in 1631 the
simple vault of the _croisee_ fell in and was replaced by an absurd
dome; in 1694 Manuel Conde destroyed and rebuilt the southern front
according to the style then in vogue, and in 1743 a great number of the
arches of the aisles fell in. Different parts of the building were
continually tumbling down, having become too weak to support the heavier
materials used in the construction of additions and renovations."
The cathedral was closed to the public by the government in 1850 and
handed over to a body of architects, who were to restore it in
accordance with the thirteenth-century design; in 1901 the interior of
the building had been definitely finished, and was opened once more to
the religious cult.
The general plan of the building is Roman cruciform, with a semicircular
apse composed of five chapels and an ambulatory behind the high altar.
As peculiarities, the following may be mentioned: the two towers of the
western front do not head the aisles, but flank them; the transept is
exceptionally wide (in Spanish cathedrals the distance between the high
altar and the choir must be regarded as the transept, properly speaking)
and is composed of a broad nave and two aisles to the east and one to
the west; the width also of the church at the transept is greater by
two aisles than that of the body itself,--a modification which produces
a double Roman cross and lends exceptional beauty to the ensemble, as it
permits of an unobstructed view from the western porch to the very apse.
Attention must also be drawn to the row of two chapels and a vestibule
which separate the church from the cloister (one of the most celebrated
in Spain as a Gothic structure, though mixed with Renaissance motives
and spoilt by fresco paintings). Thanks to this arrangement, the
cathedral possesses a northern portal similar to the southern one. As
regards the exterior of the building, it is a pity that the two towers
which flank the aisles are heavy in comparison to the general
construction of the church; had light and slender towers like those of
Burgos or that of Oviedo been placed here, how grand would have been the
effect! Besides, they are not similar, but date from different periods,
which is another circumstance to be regretted.
The second bodies of the western and southern facades also clash on
account of the Renaissance elements, with their simple horizontal lines
opposed to the vertical tendency of pure Gothic. But then, they also
were erected at a later date.
Excepting these remarks, however, nothing is more airily beautiful and
elegant than the superb expression of the _razonadas locuras_ (logical
nonsense) of the ogival style in all its phases, both early and late, or
even decadent. For examples of each period are to be found here,
corresponding to the century in which they were erected.
The ensemble is an astonishing profusion of high and narrow windows, of
which there are three rows: the clerestory, the triforium, and the
aisles. Each window is divided into two by a column so fragile that it
resembles a spider's thread. These windows peep forth from a forest of
flying buttresses, and nowhere does the mixture of pinnacles and painted
panes attain a more perfect eloquence than in the eastern extremity of
the polygonal apse.
The western and southern facades--the northern being replaced by the
cloister--are alike in their general design, and are composed of three
portals surmounted by a decidedly pointed arch which, in the case of the
central portals, adorns a richly sculptured tympanum. The artistic
merit of the statuary in the niches of both central portals is devoid of
exceptional praise, that of the southern facade being perhaps of a
better taste. As regards the stone pillar which divides the central door
into two wings, that on the south represents Our Lady of the Blanca, and
that on the west San Froilan, one of the early martyr bishops of Leon.
Excepting the Renaissance impurities already referred to, each portal is
surmounted by a row of five lancet windows, which give birth, as it
were, to one immense window of delicate design.
Penetrating into the interior of the building, preferably by the lateral
doors of the western front, the tourist is overcome by a feeling of awe
and amazement at the bold construction of aisles and nave, as slender as
is the frost pattern on a spotless pane. The full value of the windows,
which are gorgeous from the outside, is only obtained from the interior
of the temple; those of the clerestory reach from the sharp ogival
vaulting to the height of the triforium, which in its turn is backed by
another row of painted windows; in the aisles, another series of panes
rose in the sixteenth century from the very ground (!), though in
recent times the bases have unluckily been blinded to about the height
of a man.
The pillars and columns are of the simplest and most sober construction,
so simple that they do not draw the spectator's attention, but leave him
to be impressed by the great height of nave and aisles as compared with
their insignificant width, and above all by the profuse perforation of
the walls by hundreds upon hundreds of windows.
Unluckily, the original pattern of the painted glass does not exist but
in an insignificant quantity: the northern window, the windows of the
high altar, and those of the Chapel of St. James are about the only ones
dating from the fifteenth century that are left standing to-day; they
are easily recognizable by the rich, mellow tints unattained in modern
stained glass.
As accessories, foremost to be mentioned are the choir stalls, which are
of an elegant and severe workmanship totally different from the florid
carving of those in Toledo. The high altar, on the other hand, is devoid
of interest excepting for the fine ogival sepulchre of King Ordono II;
the remaining chapels, some of which contain art objects of value, need
not claim the tourist's special attention.
By way of conclusion: the cathedral of Leon, restored to-day after years
of ruin and neglect, stands forth as one of the master examples of
Gothic workmanship, unrivalled in fairy-like beauty and, from an
architectural point of view, the very best example of French ogival to
be met with in Spain.
Moreover, those who wrought it, felt the real principles of all Gothic
architecture. Many are the cathedrals in Spain pertaining to this great
school, but not one of them can compare with that of Leon in the way the
essential principle was _felt_ and _expressed_. They are all beautiful
in their complex and hybrid style, but none of them can claim to be
Gothic in the way they are built. For wealth, power, and luxury in
details is generally the lesson Spanish cathedrals teach, but they do
not give their lancets and shafts, their vertical lines and pointed
arches, the chance to impress the visitor or true believer with those
sentiments so peculiar to the great ogival style.
The cathedral of Leon is, in Spain, the unique exception to this rule.
Save only those constructive errors or dissonances previously referred
to, and which tend to counteract the soaring characteristic, it could be
considered as being pure in style. Nevertheless, it is not only the
truest Gothic cathedral on the peninsula, but one of the finest in the
world.
At the same time, it is no less true that it is not so Spanish as either
the Gothic of Burgos or of Toledo.
* * * * *
In 1063 the King of Leon, Fernando I., signed a treaty with the Arab
governor of Sevilla, obliging the latter to hand over to the Catholic
monarch, in exchange for some other privileges, the corpse of San
Isidoro. It was conveyed to Leon, where a church was built to contain
the remains of the saint; the same building was to serve as a royal
pantheon.
About a century later Alfonso VII. was battling against the pagans in
Andalusia when, in the field of Baeza, the "warlike apparition of San
Isidoro appeared in the heavens and encouraged the Christian soldiers."
Thanks to this divine aid, the Moors were beaten, and Alfonso VII.,
returning to Leon, enriched the saint's shrine, enlarged it, and raised
it to a suffragan church, destined later to serve as the temporary see
while the building of the real cathedral was going on.
In 1135 Alfonso VII. was crowned Emperor of the West Roman Empire with
extraordinary pomp and splendour in the Church of San Isidoro. The
apogee of Leon's importance and power coincides with this memorable
event.
The emperor's sister, Sancha, a pious infanta, bequeathed her vast
fortune as well as her palace to San Isidoro, her favourite saint; the
church in Leon became, consequently, one of the richest in Spain, a
privilege it was, however, unable to retain for any length of time.
In 1029, shortly after the erection of the primitive building, its front
was sullied, according to the tradition, by the blood of one Count
Garcia of Castile. The following is the story:
The King of Asturias at the time was Bermudo II., married to Urraca, the
daughter of Count Sancho of Castile. Political motives had produced this
union, for the Condes de Castile had grown to be the most important and
powerful feudal lords of the kingdom.
To assure the count's assistance and friendship, the king went even
further: he promised his sister Sancha to the count's son Garcia, who
lost no time in visiting Leon so as to become acquainted with his future
spouse.
Three sons of the defeated Count of Vela, a Basque nobleman whom the
Counts of Castile had put to death, were in the city at the time.
Pretending to be very friendly with the young _fiance_, they conspired
against his life, and, knowing that he paid matinal visits to San
Isidoro, they hid in the portal one day, and slew the youth as he
entered.
The promised bride arrived in haste and fell weeping on the body of the
murdered man; she wept bitterly and prayed to be allowed to be buried
with her sweetheart. Her prayer was, of course, not granted: so she
swore she would never marry. She was not long in breaking this oath,
however, for a few months later she wedded a prince of the house of
Navarra.
The present state of the building of San Isidoro is ruinous, thanks to a
stroke of lightning in 1811, and to the harsh treatment bestowed upon
the building by Napoleon's soldiers during the War for Independence
(1808).
Seen from the outside, the edifice is as uninteresting as possible; the
lower part is constructed in the early Latin Romanesque style; the
upper, of a posterior construction, shows a decided tendency to early
Gothic.
The apse was originally three-lobed, composed of three identical chapels
corresponding to the nave and aisles; in the sixteenth century the
central lobe was prolonged and squared off; the same century saw the
erection of the statue of San Isidoro in the southern front, which
spoiled the otherwise excellently simple Romanesque portal.
In the interior of the ruin--for such it is to-day--the only peculiarity
to be noted is the use of the horseshoe arches in the arcades which
separate the aisles from the nave, as well as the Arab dentated arches
of the transept. It is the first case on record where, in a Christian
temple of the importance of San Isidoro, Arab or pagan architectural
elements were made use of in the decoration; that is to say, after the
invasion, for previous examples were known, having most likely
penetrated into the country by means of Byzantine workmen in the fifth
and sixth centuries. (In San Juan de Banos.)
[Illustration: APSE OF SAN ISIDORO, LEON]
Instead of being lined with chapels the aisles are covered with mural
paintings. These frescoes are of great archaeological value on account of
their great age and the evident Byzantine influence which characterizes
them; artistically they are unimportant.
The chief attraction of the building is the pantheon, a low, square
chapel of six arches, supported in the centre by two gigantic pillars
which are crowned by huge cylindrical capitals. Nothing more depressing
or gloomy can be seen in the peninsula excepting the pantheon in the
Escorial; it is doubtful which of the two is more melancholy. The pure
Oriental origin (almost Indian!) of this pantheon is unmistakable and
highly interesting.
The fresco paintings which cover the ceiling and the massive ribs of the
vaulting are equally morbid, representing hell-scenes from the
Apocalypse, the massacre of the babes, etc.
Only one or two of the Romanesque marble tombs which lined the walls
are remaining to-day; the others were used by the French soldiers as
drinking-troughs for their cavalry horses!
IV
ASTORGA
The Asturica Augusta of the Romans was the capital of the northern
provinces of Asturias and the central point of four military roads which
led to Braga, Aquitania, Saragosse, and Tarragon.
During the Visigothic domination, and especially under the reign of
Witiza, Astorga as well as Leon, Toledo, and Tuy were the only four
cities allowed to retain their walls.
According to some accounts, Astorga was the seat of the earliest
bishopric in the peninsula, having been consecrated in the first century
by Santiago or his immediate followers; historically, however, the first
known bishop was Dominiciano, who lived about 347 A. D.
In the fourth and fifth centuries several heresies or false doctrines
were ripe in Spain. Of one of these, _Libelatism_, Astorga was the
centre; the other, _Priscilianism_, originally Galician, found many
adherents in the fortress-town, more so than elsewhere, excepting only
Tuy, Orense, and Palencia.
_Libelatism._--Its great defender was Basilides, Bishop of Astorga.
Strictly speaking, this faith was no heresy, but a sham or fraud which
spread out beyond the Pyrenees to France. It consisted in denying the
new faith; those who proclaimed it, or, in other words, the Christians,
who were severely persecuted in those days, pretended to worship the
Latin gods so as to save their skins. With this object in view, and to
be able to prove their sincerity, they were obliged to obtain a
certificate, _libelum_ (libel?), from the Roman governor, stating their
belief in Jupiter, Venus, etc. Doubtless they had to pay a tax for this
certificate, and thus the Roman state showed its practical wisdom: it
was paid by cowards for being tyrannical. But then, not all Christians
are born martyrs.
_Priscilianism._--Of quite a different character was the other heresy
previously mentioned. It was a doctrine opposed to the Christian
religion, proud of many adherents, and at one time threatening danger to
the Holy Roman Catholic Church. Considering that it is but little known
to-day (for after a lingering life of about three or four centuries in
Galicia it was quite ignored by philosophers and Christians alike), it
may be of some use to transcribe the salient points of this doctrine, in
case some one be inclined to baptize him or herself as prophet of the
new religion. It was preached by one Prisciliano in the fourth century,
and was a mixture of Celtic mythology and Christian faith.
"Prisciliano did not believe in the mystery of the Holy Trinity; he
believed that the world had been created by the devil (perhaps he was
not wrong!) and that the devil held it beneath his sway; further, that
the soul is part of the Divine Essence and the body dependent upon the
stars; that this life is a punishment, as only sinful souls descend on
earth to be incarnated in organic bodies. He denied the resurrection of
the flesh and the authenticity of the Old Testament. He defended the
transmigration of souls, the invocation of the dead, and other ideas,
doubtless taken from native Galician mythology. To conclude, he
celebrated the Holy Communion with grape and milk instead of with wine,
and admitted that all true believers (his true believers, I suppose,
for we are all of us true believers of some sort) could celebrate
religious ceremonies without being ordained curates."
Sinfosio, Bishop of Astorga in 400, was converted to the new religion.
But, upon intimation that he might be deprived of his see, he hurriedly
turned Christian again, putting thus a full stop to the spread of
heresy, by his brave and unselfish act.
Toribio in 447 was, however, the bishop who wrought the greatest harm to
Priscilianism. He seems to have been the divine instrument called upon
to prove by marvellous happenings the true religion: he converted the
King of the Suevos in Orense by miraculously curing his son; when
surrounded by flames he emerged unharmed; when he left his diocese, and
until his return, the crops were all lost; upon his return the
church-bells rang without human help, etc., etc. All of which doings
proved the authenticity of the true religion beyond a doubt, and that
Toribio was a saint; the Pope canonized him.
During the Arab invasion, Astorga, being a frontier town, suffered more
than most cities farther north; it was continually being taken and
lost, built up and torn down by the Christians and Moors.
Terrible Almanzor conquered it in his raid in the tenth century, and
utterly destroyed it. It was rebuilt by Veremundo or Bermudo III., but
never regained its lost importance, which reverted to Leon.
When the Christian armies had conquered the peninsula as far south as
Toledo, Astorga was no longer a frontier town, and rapidly fell asleep,
and has slept ever since. It remained a see, however, but only one of
secondary importance.
It would be difficult to state how many cathedral churches the city
possessed previous to the eleventh century. In 1069 the first on record
was built; in 1120 another; a third in the thirteenth century, and
finally the fourth and present building in 1471.
It was the evident intention of the architect to imitate the _Pulchra
Leonina_, but other tastes and other styles had swept across the
peninsula and the result of the unknown master's plans resembles rather
a heavy, awkward caricature than anything else, and a bastard mixture of
Gothic, plateresque, and grotesque styles.
The northern front is by far the best of the two, boasting of a rather
good relief in the tympanum of the ogival arch; some of the painted
windows are also of good workmanship, though the greater part are modern
glass, and unluckily unstained.
Its peculiarities can be signalized; the windows of the southern aisle
are situated above the lateral chapels, while those of the northern are
lower and situated in the chapels. The height and width of the aisles
are also remarkable--a circumstance that does not lend either beauty or
effect to the building. There is no ambulatory behind the high altar,
which stands in the lady-chapel; the apse is rounded. This peculiarity
reminds one dimly of what the primitive plan of the Oviedo cathedral
must have resembled.
By far the most meritorious piece of work in the cathedral is the
sixteenth-century _retablo_ of the high altar, which alone is worth a
visit to Astorga. It is one of Becerra's masterpieces in the late
plateresque style, as well as being one of the master's last known works
(1569).
It is composed of five vertical and three horizontal bodies; the niches
in the lower are flanked by Doric, those of the second by Corinthian,
and those of the upper by composite columns and capitals. The polychrome
statues which fill the niches are life-size and among the best in Spain;
together they are intended to give a graphic description of the life of
the Virgin and of her Son.
In some of the decorative details, however, this _retablo_ shows evident
signs of plateresque decadence, and the birth of the florid grotesque
style, which is but the natural reaction against the severity of early
sixteenth-century art.
V
BURGOS
Burgos is the old capital of Castile.
Castile--or properly Castilla--owed its name to the great number of
castles which stood on solitary hills in the midst of the plains lying
to the north of the Sierra de Guaderrama; one of these castles was
called Burgos.
Unlike Leon and Astorga, Burgos was not known to the Romans, but was
founded by feudal noblemen in the middle ages, most likely by the Count
of Castilla prior to 884 A. D., when its name first appears in history.
Situated almost in the same line and to the west of Astorga and Leon, it
entered the chain of fortresses which formed the frontier between the
Christian kingdoms and the Moorish dominion. At the same time it looked
westwards toward the kingdom of Navarra, and managed to keep the
ambitious sovereigns of Pamplona from Castilian soil.
During the first centuries which followed upon the foundation of the
village of Burgos at the foot of a prominent castle, both belonged to
the feudal lords of Castile, the celebrated counts of the same name.
This family of intrepid noblemen grew to be the most important in
Northern Spain; vassals of the kings of Asturias, they broke out in
frequent rebellion, and their doings alone fill nine of every ten pages
of mediaeval history.
Orduno III.--he who lost the battle of Valdejunquera against the Moors
because the noblemen he had ordered to assist refrained from doing
so--enticed the Count of Castile, together with other conspirators, to
his palace, and had them foully murdered. So, at least, saith history.
The successor to the title was no fool. On the contrary, he was one of
the greatest characters in Spanish history, hero of a hundred legends
and traditions. Fernan Gonzalez was his name, and he freed Castile from
owing vassalage to Asturias, for he threw off the yoke which bound him
to Leon, and lived as an independent sovereign in his castle of Burgos.
This is the date of Castile's first appearance in history as one of the
nuclei of Christian resistance (in the tenth century).
Nevertheless, against the military genius of Almanzor (the victorious),
Fernan Gonzalez could do no more than the kings of Leon. The fate that
befell Santiago, Leon, and Astorga awaited Burgos, which was utterly
destroyed with the exception of the impregnable castle. After the Arab's
death, hailed by the Christians with shouts of joy, and from the pulpits
with the grim remark: _"Almanzor mortuus est et sepultus et in
inferno_," the strength of Castile grew year by year, until one Conde
Garcia de Castilla married one of his daughters to the King of Navarra
and the other to Bermudo III. of Leon. His son, as has already been seen
in a previous chapter, was killed in Leon when he went to marry
Bermudo's sister Sancha. But his grandson, the recognized heir to the
throne of Navarra, Fernando by name, inherited his grandfather's title
and estates, even his murdered uncle's promised bride, the sister of
Bermudo. At the latter's death some years later, without an heir, he
inherited--or conquered--Leon and Asturias, and for the first time in
history, all the Christian kingdoms of the peninsula were united
beneath one sceptre.
Castile was now the most powerful state in the peninsula, and its
capital, Burgos, the most important city north of Toledo.
Two hundred years later the centralization of power in Burgos was an
accomplished fact, as well as the death in all but name of the ancient
kingdom of Leon, Asturias, and Galicia. Castile was Spain, and Burgos
its splendid capital (1230, in the reign of San Fernando).
The above events are closely connected with the ecclesiastical history,
which depends entirely upon the civil importance of the city.
A few years after Fernando I. had inaugurated the title of King of
Castile, he raised the parish church of Burgos to a bishopric (1075) by
removing to his new capital the see that from time immemorial had
existed in Oca. He also laid the first stone of the cathedral church in
the same spot where Fernan Gonzalez had erected a summer palace,
previous to the Arab raid under Almanzor. Ten years later the same king
had the bishopric raised to an archiepiscopal see.
San Fernando, being unable to do more than had already been done by his
forefather Fernando I., had the ruined church pulled down, and in its
place he erected the cathedral still standing to-day. This was in 1221.
So rapidly was the main edifice constructed, that as early as 1230 the
first holy mass was celebrated in the altar-chapel. The erection of the
remaining parts took longer, however, for the building was not completed
until about three hundred years later.
Burgos did not remain the sole capital of Northern Spain for any great
length of time. Before the close of the thirteenth century, Valladolid
had destroyed the former's monopoly, and from then on, and during the
next three hundred years, these two and Toledo were obliged to take
turns in the honour of being considered capital, an honour that depended
entirely upon the caprices of the rulers of the land, until it was
definitely conferred upon Madrid in the seventeenth century.
As regards legends and traditions of feudal romance and tragedy, hardly
a city excepting Toledo and Salamanca can compete with Burgos.
Historical events, produced by throne usurpers and defenders, by
continual strife, by the obstinacy of the noblemen and the perfidy of
the monarchs,--all interwoven with beautiful dames and cruel
warriors--are sufficiently numerous to enable every house in and around
Burgos to possess some secret or other, generally gruesome and
licentious, which means chivalrous. The reign of Peter the Cruel and of
his predecessor Alfonso, the father of four or five bastards, and the
lover of Dona Leonor; the heroic deeds of Fernan Gonzalez and of the Cid
Campeador (Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar); the splendour of the court of Isabel
I., and the peculiar constitution of the land with its Cortes, its
convents, and monasteries,--all tend to make Burgos the centre of a
chivalrous literature still recited by the people and firmly believed in
by them. Unluckily their recital cannot find a place here, and we pass
on to examine the grand cathedral, object of the present chapter.
* * * * *
The train, coming from the north, approaches the city of Burgos. A low
horizon line and undulating plains stretch as far as the eye can reach;
in the distance ahead are two church spires and a castle looming up
against a blue sky.
The train reaches the station; a mass of houses and, overtopping the
roofs of all buildings, the same spires as seen before, lost as it were
in a forest of pinnacles, emerging from two octagonal lanterns or
cimborios. In the background, on a sandy hill, are the ruins of the
castle which once upon a time was the stronghold of the Counts of
Castile.
Burgos! Passing beneath a four-hundred-year-old gateway--Arco de Santa
Maria--raised by trembling bourgeois to appease a monarch's wrath, the
visitor arrives after many a turn in a square situated in front of the
cathedral.
A poor architectural element is this western front of the cathedral as
regards the first body or the portals. Devoid of all ornamentation, and
consequently naked, three doors or portals, surmounted by a peculiar
egg-shaped ogival arch, open into the nave and aisles. Originally they
were richly decorated by means of sculptural reliefs and statuary, but
in the plateresque period of the sixteenth century they were demolished.
The two lateral doors leading into the aisles are situated beneath the
275 feet high towers of excellent workmanship.
[Illustration: BURGOS CATHEDRAL]
The central door is surmounted by a plateresque-Renaissance pediment
imbedded in an ogival arch (of all things!); the side doors are crowned
by a simple window.
Vastly superior in all respects to the lower body are the upper stories,
of which the first is begun by a pinnacled balustrade running from tower
to tower; in the centre, between the two towers, there is an immense
rosace of a magnificent design and embellished by means of an ogival
arch in delicate relief; the windows of the tower, as well as in the
superior bodies, are pure ogival.
The next story can be considered as the basement of the towers, properly
speaking. The central part begins with a prominent balustrade of statues
thrown against a background formed by twin ogival windows of exceptional
size. The third story is composed, as regards the towers, of the last of
the square bodies upon which the fleche reposes; these square bases are
united by a light frieze or perforated balustrade which crowns the
central part of the facade and is decorated with ogival designs.
Last to be mentioned, but not least in importance, are the _fleches_.
Though short in comparison to the bold structure at Oviedo, they are,
nevertheless, of surprising dignity and elegance, and richly ornamented,
being covered over with an innumerable amount of tiny pinnacles
encrusted, as it were, on the stone network of a perforated pyramid.
The northern facade is richer in sculptural details than the western,
though the portal possesses but one row of statues. The rosace is
substituted by a three-lobed window, the central pane of which is larger
than the lateral two.
As this northern facade is almost fifteen feet higher than the
ground-plan of the temple,--on account of the street being much
higher,--a flight of steps leads down into the transept. As a
Renaissance work, this golden staircase is one of Spain's marvels, but
it looks rather out of place in an essentially Gothic cathedral.
To avoid the danger of falling down these stairs and with a view to
their preservation, the transept was pierced by another door in the
sixteenth century, on a level with the floor of the building, and
leading into a street lower than the previous one; it is situated on the
east of the prolonged transept, or better still, of the prolonged
northern transept arm.
On the south side a cloister door corresponds to this last-named portal.
Though the latter is plateresque, cold and severe, the former is the
richest of all the portals as regards sculptural details; the carving of
the panels is also of the finest workmanship. Beside it, the southern
front of the cathedral coincides perfectly with the northern; like the
Puerta de la Plateria in Santiago, it is rendered somewhat insignificant
by the cloister to the right and by the archbishop's palace to the left,
between which it is reached by a paved series of terraces, for on this
side the street is lower than the floor of the cathedral. The impression
produced by this alley is grand and imposing, unique in Spain.
Neither is the situation of the temple exactly east and west, a rare
circumstance in such a highly Catholic country like Spain. It is Roman
cruciform in shape; the central nave contains both choir and high altar;
the aisles are prolonged behind the latter in an ambulatory.
The lateral walls of the church, enlarged here and there to make room
for chapels of different dimensions, give an irregular outline to the
building which has been partly remedied by the free use of buttresses,
flying buttresses, and pinnacles.
The first impression produced on the visitor standing in either of the
aisles is that of size rather than beauty; a close examination, however,
of the wealth of statues and tombs, and of the sculptural excellence of
stone decoration, will draw from the tourist many an exclamation of
wonder and delight. Further, the distribution of light is such as to
render the interior of the temple gay rather than sombre; it is a pity,
nevertheless, that the stained glasses of the sixteenth century see were
all destroyed by a powder explosion in 1813, when the French soldiers
demolished the castle.
The unusual height of the choir mars the ensemble of the interior; the
stalls are lavishly carved, but do not inspire the same feeling of
wonderful beauty as do those of Leon and Toledo, for instance; the
_reja_ or grille which separates the choir from the transept is one of
the finest pieces of work in the cathedral, and, though massive, it is
simple and elegant.
The _retablo_ of the high altar, richly gilt, is of the Renaissance
period; the statues and groups which fill the niches are marvellously
drawn and full of life. In the ambulatory, imbedded in the wall of the
_trascoro_, there are six plaques in low relief; as sculptural work in
stone they are unrivalled in the cathedral, and were carved, beyond a
doubt, by the hand of a master. The _croisee_ and the Chapel of the
Condestable are the two chief attractions of the cathedral church.
The last named chapel is an octagonal addition to the apse. Its walls
from the exterior are seen to be richly sculptured and surmounted by a
lantern, or windowed dome, surrounded by high pinnacles and spires
placed on the angles of the polygon base. The _croisee_ is similar in
structure, but, due to its greater height, appears even more slender and
aerial. The towers with their _fleches_, together with these original
octagonal lanterns with their pinnacles, lend an undescribable grace,
elegance, and majesty to what would otherwise have been a rather
unwieldy edifice.
The Chapel of the Condestable is separated from the ambulatory (in the
interior of the temple) by a good grille of the sixteenth century, and
by a profusely sculptured door. The windows above the altar are the only
ones that retain painted panes of the sixteenth century. Among the other
objects contained in this chapel--which is really a connoisseur's
collection of art objects of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries--can
be mentioned the two marvellously carved tombs of the Condestable and of
his wife.
The _croisee_, on the other hand, has been called the "cathedral's
cathedral." Gazing skyward from the centre of the transept into the high
_cimborio_, and admiring the harmony of its details, the wealth of
decorative elements, and the no less original structure of the dome,
whose vault is formed by an immense star, one can understand the epithet
applied to this majestic piece of work, a marvel of its kind.
Strange to say, the primitive cupola which crowned the _croisee_ fell
down in the sixteenth century, the date also of Burgos's growing
insignificance in political questions. Consequently, it was believed by
many that the same fate produced both accidents, and that the downfall
of the one necessarily involved the decadence of the other.
To conclude: The Gothic cathedral of Burgos is, with that of Leon and
perhaps that of Sevilla, the one which expresses in a greater measure
than any other on the peninsula the true ideal of ogival architecture.
Less airy, light, and graceful than that of Leon, it is, nevertheless,
more Spanish, or in other words, more majestic, heavier, and more
imposing as regards size and weight. From a sculptural point of
view--stone sculpture--it is the first of all Spanish Gothic cathedrals,
and ranks among the most elaborate and perfect in Europe.
VI
SANTANDER
The foundation of Santander is attributed to the Romans who baptized it
Harbour of Victory. Its decadence after the Roman dominion seems to have
been complete, and its name does not appear in the annals of Spanish
history until in 1187, when Alfonso, eighth of that name and King of
Castile, induced the repopulation of the deserted hamlet by giving it a
special _fuero_ or privilege. At that time a monastery surrounded by a
few miserable huts seems to have been all that was left of the Roman
seaport; this monastery was dedicated to the martyr saints Emeterio and
Celedonio, for it was, and still is, believed that they perished here,
and not in Calahorra, as will be seen later on.
The name of the nascent city in the times of Alfonso VIII. was Sancti
Emetrii, from that of the monastery or of the old town, but within a
few years the new town eclipsed the former in importance and, being
dedicated to St. Andrew, gave its name to the present city
(San-t-Andres, Santander).
As a maritime town, Santander became connected with all the naval events
undertaken by young Castile, and later by Philip II., against England.
Kings, princes, princess-consorts, and ambassadors from foreign lands
came by sea to Santander, and went from thence to Burgos and Valladolid;
from Santander and the immediate seaports the fleet sailed which was to
travel up the Guadalquivir and conquer Sevilla; in 1574 the Invincible
Armada left the Bay of Biscay never to return, and from thence on until
now, Santander has ever remained the most important Spanish seaport on
the Cantabric Sea.
Its ecclesiastical history is uninteresting--or, rather, the city
possesses no ecclesiastical past; perhaps that is one of the causes of
its flourishing state to-day. In the thirteenth century the monastical
Church of San Emeterio was raised to a collegiate and in 1775 to a
bishopric.
The same unimportance, from an art point of view, attaches itself to the
cathedral church. No one visits the city for the sake of the heavy,
clumsy, and exceedingly irregularly built temple which stands on the
highest part of the town. On the contrary, the great attraction is the
fine beach of the Sardinero which lies to the west of the industrial
town, and is, in summer, the Brighton of Spain. The coast-line, deeply
dentated and backed by the Cantabric Mountains, is far more delightful
and attractive than the Gothic cathedral structure of the thirteenth
century.
Consequently, little need be said about it. In the interior, the height
of the nave and aisles, rendered more pronounced by the pointed ogival
arches, gives the building a somewhat aerial appearance that is belied
by the view from without.
[Illustration: CRYPT OF SANTANDER CATHEDRAL]
The square tower on the western end is undermined by a gallery or tunnel
through which the Calle de Puente passes. To the right of the same, and
reached by a flight of steps, stands the entrance to the crypt, which is
used to-day as a most unhealthy parish church. This crypt of the late
twelfth century or early thirteenth shows a decided Romanesque tendency
in its general appearance: it is low, massive, strong, and crowned by
a semicircular vaulting reposing on gigantic pillars whose capitals are
roughly sculptured. The windows which let in the little light that
enters are ogival, proving the Transition period to which the crypt
belongs; it was originally intended as the pantheon for the abbots of
the monastery. But unlike the Galician Romanesque, it lacks an
individual _cachet_; if it resembles anything it is the pantheon of the
kings in San Isidoro in Leon, though in point of view of beauty, the two
cannot be compared.
The form of the crypt is that of a perfect Romanesque basilica, a nave
and two aisles terminating a three-lobed apse.
In the cathedral, properly speaking, there is a baptismal font of
marble, bearing an Arabic inscription by way of upper frieze; it is
square, and of Moorish workmanship, and doubtless was brought from
Cordoba after the reconquest. Its primitive use had been practical, for
in Andalusia it stood at the entrance to some mezquita, and in its
limpid waters the disciples of Mahomet performed their hygienic and
religious ablutions.
VII
VITORIA
If the foreigner enter Spain by Irun, the first cathedral town on his
way south is Vitoria.
Gazteiz seems to have been its Basque name prior to 1181, when it was
enlarged by Don Sancho of Navarra and was given a _fuero_ or privilege,
together with its new name, chosen to commemorate a victory obtained by
the king over his rival, Alfonso of Castile.
Fortune did not smile for any length of time on Don Sancho, for
seventeen years later Alfonso VIII. incorporated the city in his kingdom
of Castile, and it was lost for ever to Navarra.
As regards the celebrated _fueros_ given by the last named monarch to
the inhabitants of the city, a curious custom was in vogue in the city
until a few years ago, when the Basque Provinces finally lost the
privileges they had fought for during centuries.
When Alfonso VIII. granted these privileges, he told the citizens they
were to conserve them "as long as the waters of the Zadorria flowed into
the Ebro."
The Zadorria is the river upon which Vitoria is situated; about two
miles up the river there is a historical village, Arriago, and a no less
historical bridge. Hither, then, every year on St. John's Day, the
inhabitants of Vitoria came in procession, headed by the municipal
authorities, the bishop and clergy, the clerk of the town hall, and the
sheriff. The latter on his steed waded into the waters of the Zadorria,
and threw a letter into the stream; it flowed with the current toward
the Ebro River. An act was then drawn up by the clerk, signed by the
mayor and the sheriff, testifying that the "waters of the Zadorria
flowed into the Ebro."
To-day the waters still flow into the Ebro, but the procession does not
take place, and the city's _fueros_ are no more.
In the reign of Isabel the Catholic, the Church of St. Mary was raised
to a Colegiata, and it is only quite recently, according to the latest
treaty between Spain and Rome, that an episcopal see has been
established in the city of Vitoria.
Documents that have been discovered state that in 1281--a hundred years
after the city had been newly baptized--the principal temple was a
church and castle combined; in the fourteenth century this was
completely torn down to make room for the new building, a modest ogival
church of little or no merit.
The tower is of a later date than the body of the cathedral, as is
easily seen by the triangular pediments which crown the square windows:
it is composed of three bodies, as is generally the case in Spain, the
first of which is square in its cross-section, possessing four turrets
which crown the angles; the second body is octagonal and the third is in
the form of a pyramid terminating in a spire.
The portal is cut into the base of the tower. It is the handsomest front
of the building, though in a rather dilapidated state; the sculptural
decorations of the three arches, as well as the aerial reliefs of the
tympanum, are true to the period in which they were conceived.
The sacristy encloses a primitive wooden effigy of the Virgin; it is of
greater historic than artistic value. There is also a famous picture
attributed now to Van Dyck, now to Murillo; it represents Christ in the
arms of his mother, and Mary Magdalene weeping on her knees beside the
principal group. The picture is known by the name of Piety or La Piedad.
The high altar, instead of being placed to the east of the transept, as
is generally the case, is set beneath the _croisee_, in the circular
area formed by the intersection of nave and transept. The view of the
interior is therefore completely obstructed, no matter where the
spectator stands.
VIII
UPPER RIOJA
To the south of Navarra and about a hundred miles to the west of Burgos,
the Ebro River flows through a fertile vale called the Rioja, famous for
its claret. It is little frequented by strangers or tourists, and yet it
is well worth a visit. The train runs down the Ebro valley from Miranda
to Saragosse. A hilly country to the north and south, well wooded and
gently sloping like the Jura; nearer, and along the banks of the stream,
_huertas_ or orchards, gardens, and vineyards offer a pleasant contrast
to the distant landscape, and produce a favourable impression,
especially when a village or town with its square, massive church-tower
peeps forth from out of the foliage of fruit-trees and elms.
Such is Upper Rioja--one of the prettiest spots in Spain, the Touraine,
one might almost say, of Iberia, a circular region of about twenty-five
miles in radius, containing four cities, Logrono, Santo Domingo de la
Calzada, Najera, and Calahorra.
The Roman military road from Tarragon to Astorga passed through the
Rioja, and Calahorra, a Celtiberian stronghold slightly to the south,
was conquered by the invaders after as sturdy a resistance as that of
Numantia itself. It was not totally destroyed by the conquering Romans
as happened in the last named town; on the contrary, it grew to be the
most important fortress between Leon and Saragosse.
When the Christian religion dawned in the West, two youths, inseparable
brothers, and soldiers in the seventh legion stationed in Leon, embraced
the true religion and migrated to Calahorra. They were beheaded after
being submitted to a series of the most frightful tortures, and their
tunics, leaving the bodies from which life had escaped, soared skywards
with the saintly souls, to the great astonishment of the Roman
spectators. The names of these two martyr saints were Emeterio and
Celedonio, who, as we have seen, are worshipped in Santander; besides,
they are also the patron saints of Calahorra.
The first Bishop of Calahorra took possession of his see toward the
middle of the fifth century; his name was Silvano. Unluckily, he was the
only one whose name is known to-day, and yet it has been proven that
when the Moors invaded the country two or three hundred years later, the
see was removed to Oviedo, later to Alava (near Vitoria, where no
remains of a cathedral church are to be seen to-day), and in the tenth
century to Najera. One hundred years later, when the King of Navarra,
Don Garcia, conquered the Arab fortress at Calahorra, the wandering see
was once more firmly chained down to the original spot of its creation
(1030; the first bishop _de modernis_ being Don Sancho).
Near by, and in a vale leading to the south from the Ebro, the Moors
built a fortress and called it Najera. Conquered by the early kings of
Navarra, it was raised to the dignity of one of the cathedral towns of
the country; from 950 (first bishop, Theodomio) to 1030 ten bishops held
their court here, that is, until the see was removed to Calahorra. Since
then, and especially after the conquest of Rioja by Alfonso VI. of
Castile, the city's significance died out completely, and to-day it is
but a shadow of what it previously had been, or better still, it is an
ignored village among ruins.
Still further west, and likewise situated in a vale to the south of the
Ebro, Santo Domingo de la Calzada ranks as the third city. Originally
its parish was but a suffragan church of Calahorra, but in 1227 it was
raised to an episcopal see. Quite recently, in the beginning of the
nineteenth century, when church funds were no longer what they had been,
only one bishop was appointed to both sees, with an alternative
residence in either of the two, that is to say, one prelate resided in
Calahorra, his successor in Santo Domingo, and so forth and so on. Since
1850, however, both villages--for they are cities in name only--have
lost all right to a bishop, the see having been definitely removed to
Logrono, or it will be removed there as soon as the present bishop dies.
But he has a long life, the present bishop!
The origin of Santo Domingo is purely religious. In the eleventh and
twelfth centuries a pious individual lived in the neighbourhood whose
life-work and ambition it was to facilitate the travelling pilgrims to
Santiago in Galicia. He served as guide, kept a road open in winter and
summer, and even built bridges across the streams, one of which is still
existing to-day, and leads into the town which bears his name.
He had even gone so far as to establish a rustic sort of an inn where
the pilgrims could pass the night and eat (without paying?). He also
constructed a church beside his inn. Upon dying, he was canonized Santo
Domingo de la Calzada (Domingo was his name, and _calzada_ is old
Spanish for highroad). The Alfonsos of Castile were grateful to the
humble saint for having saved them the expense and trouble of looking
after their roads, and ordained that a handsome church should be erected
on the spot where previously the humble inn and chapel had stood. Houses
grew up around it rapidly and the dignity of the new temple was raised
in consequence.
Of the four cities of Upper Rioja, the only one worthy of the name of
city is Logrono, with its historical bridge across the Ebro, a bridge
that was held, according to the tradition, by the hero, Ruy Diaz Gaona,
and three valiant companions against a whole army of invading Navarrese.
The name Lucronio or Logrono is first mentioned in a document toward
the middle of the eleventh century. The date of its foundation is
absolutely unknown, and all that can be said is that, once it had fallen
into the hands of the monarchs of Castile (1076), it grew rapidly in
importance, out-shining the other three Rioja cities. It is seated on
the southern banks of the Ebro in the most fertile part of the whole
region, and enjoys a delightful climate. Since 1850 it has been raised
to the dignity of an episcopal see.
As regards the architectural remains of the four cities in the Upper
Rioja valley, they are similar to those of Navarra, properly speaking,
though not so pure in their general lines. In other words, they belong
to the decadent period of Gothic art. Moreover, they have one and all
been spoiled by ingenious, though dreadful mixtures of plateresque,
Renaissance, and grotesque decorative details, and consequently the real
remains of the old twelfth and thirteenth century Gothic and Romanesque
constructions are difficult to trace.
_Najera._--Absolutely nothing remains of the old Romanesque church built
by the king Don Garcia. A new edifice of decadent Gothic, mixed with
Renaissance details, and dating from the fifteenth century, stands
to-day; it contains a magnificent series of choir stalls of excellent
workmanship, and similar to those of Burgos. The cloister, in spite of
the Arab-looking geometrical tracery of the ogival arches, is both light
and elegant.
This cathedral was at one time used as the pantheon of the kings of
Navarra. About ten elaborate marble tombs still lie at the foot of the
building.
_Santo Domingo de la Calzada._--The primitive ground-plan of the
cathedral has been preserved, a nave and two aisles showing Romanesque
strength in the lower and ogival lightness in the upper tiers. But
otherwise nothing reminds one of a twelfth or thirteenth century church.
The cloister, of the sixteenth century, is a handsome
plateresque-Renaissance edifice, rather small, severe, and cold. The
great merit of this church lies in the sepulchral tombs in the different
chapels, all of which were executed toward the end of the fifteenth and
during the first years of the seventeenth centuries, and any one wishing
to form for himself an idea of this particular branch of Spanish
monumental art must not fail to examine such sepulchres as those of
Carranza, Fernando Alfonso, etc.
[Illustration: CLOISTER OF NAJERA CATHEDRAL]
The effigy of the patron saint (Santo Domingo) is of painted wood
clothed in rich silver robes, which form a striking antithesis to the
saint's humble and modest life. The chapel where the latter lies is
closed by a gilded iron _reja_ of plateresque workmanship. The saint's
body lies in a simple marble sepulchre, said to have been carved by
Santo Domingo himself, who was both an architect and a sculptor. The
truth of this version is, however, doubtful.
Of the square tower and the principal entrance no remarks need be made,
for both are insignificant. The _retablo_ of the high altar has been
attributed to Foment, who constructed those of Saragosse and Huesca. The
attribution is, however, most doubtful, as shown by the completely
different styles employed by the artist of each. Not that the _retablo_
in the Church of Santo Domingo is inferior to Foment's masterworks in
Aragon, but the decorative motives of the flanking columns and low
reliefs would prove--in case they had been executed by the Aragonese
Foment--a departure from the latter's classic style.
In one of the niches of the cloister, in a simple urn, lies the heart of
Don Enrique, second King of Castile of that name, the half-brother (one
of the bastards mentioned in a previous chapter and from whom all later
Spanish monarchs are descended) of Peter the Cruel. The latter was
murdered by his fond relative, who usurped the throne.
_Logrono._--In 1435 Santa Maria la Redonda was raised to a suffragan
church of Santo Domingo de la Calzada; about this date the old building
must have been almost entirely torn down, as the ogival arches of the
nave are of the fifteenth century; so also are the lower windows which,
on the west, flank the southern door.
Excepting these few remains, nothing can bring to the tourist's mind the
fifteenth-century edifice, and not a single stone can recall the
twelfth-century church. For the remaining parts of the building are of
the sixteenth, seventeenth, and successive centuries, and to-day the
interior is being enlarged so as to make room for the see which is to be
removed here from Santo Domingo and Calahorra.
[Illustration: SANTA MARIA LA REDONDA, LOGRONO]
The interior is Roman cruciform with a high and airy central nave, in
which stands the choir, and on each hand a rather dark aisle of much
smaller dimensions.
The _trascoro_ is the only peculiarity possessed by this church. It is
large and circular, closed by an immense vaulting which turns it into a
chapel separated from the rest of the church (compare with the Church of
the Pillar of Saragosse).
True to the grotesque style to which it belongs, the whole surface of
walls and vault is covered with paintings, the former apparently in oil,
the latter frescoes. Vixes painted them in the theatrical style of the
eighteenth century.
From the outside, the regular features of the church please the eye in
spite of the evident signs of artistic decadence. The two towers, high
and slender, are among the best produced by the period of decadence in
Spain which followed upon Herrero's severe style, if only the uppermost
body lacked the circular linterna which makes the spire top-heavy.
Between the two towers, which, when seen from a distance, gain in beauty
and lend to the city a noble and picturesque aspect, the facade,
properly speaking, reaches to their second body. It is a hollow, crowned
by half a dome in the shape of a shell which in its turn is surmounted
by a plateresque cornice in the shape of a long and narrow scroll.
The hollow is a peculiar and daring medley of architectural elegance and
sculptural bizarrerie and vice versa. From Madrazo it drew the
exclamation that, since he had seen it, he was convinced that not all
monuments belonging to the grotesque style were devoid of beauty.
The date of the erection of the western front is doubtless the same as
that of the _trascoro_; both are contemporaneous--the author is inclined
to believe--with the erection of the Pillar in Saragosse; at least, they
resemble each other in certain unmistakable details.
_Calahorra._--The fourth of the cathedral churches of Upper Rioja is
that of Calahorra. After the repopulation of the town by Alfonso VI. of
Castile in the eleventh century, the bodies of the two martyr saints
Emeterio and Celedonio were pulled up out of a well (to be seen to-day
in the cloister) where they had been hidden by the Christians, when
the Moors conquered the fortress, and a church was built near the same
spot. Of this eleventh-century church nothing remains to-day.
[Illustration: WESTERN FRONT OF CALAHORRA CATHEDRAL]
In the twelfth century, a new building was begun, but the process of
construction continued slowly, and it was not until two hundred years
later that the apse was finally finished. The body of the church, from
the western front (this latter hideously modern and uninteresting) to
the transept, is the oldest part,--simple Gothic of the thirteenth
century.
The numerous chapels which form a ring around the church have all been
decorated in the grotesque style of the eighteenth century, and with
their lively colours, their polychrome statues, and overdone
ornamentation, they offer but little interest to the visitor. The
_retablo_ of the high altar is one of the largest to be seen anywhere;
but the Renaissance elegance of the lower body is completely drowned by
the grotesque decoration of the upper half, which was constructed at a
later date.
The choir stalls are fine specimens of that style in which the artist
preferred an intricate composition to simple beauty. Biblical scenes,
surrounded and separated by allegorical personages and symbolical lines
in great profusion, show the carver's talent rather than his artistic
genius.
IX
SORIA
The Duero River, upon leaving its source at the foot of the Pico de
Urbion (near Vinuesa), flows eastward for about fifty miles, then
southward for another fifty miles, when it turns abruptly westward on
its lengthy journey across the Iberian peninsula.
The circular region, limited on three sides by the river's course, is
the historical field of Soria--part of the province of the same name,
Numantia, Rome's great enemy and almost the cause of her ruin, lay
somewhere in this part of the country, though where is not exactly
known, as the great Scipio took care to destroy it so thoroughly that
not even a stone remains to-day to indicate where the heroic fortress
stood.
In the present day, two cities and two cathedrals are seated on the
banks of the Duero within this circle; the one is Soria, the other Osma.
The latter was a Roman town, an early episcopal see, and later an Arab
fortress; the former was founded by one of the Alfonsos toward the end
of the eleventh century, as a frontier fortress against Aragon to the
east, the Moors to the south, and Navarra to the north.
The town grew apace, thanks to the remarkable _fueros_ granted to the
citizens, who lived as in a republic of their own making--an almost
unique case of self-government to be recorded in the middle ages.
The principal parish church was raised to a suffragan of Osma in the
twelfth century. Since then, there has been a continual spirit of
rivalry between the two cities, for the former, more important as a town
and as the capital of a province, could not bend its head to the
ecclesiastical authority of a village like Osma. Throughout the middle
ages the jealousy between the two was food for incessant strife. Pope
Clement IV., at Alfonso VIII.'s instigation, raised the Collegiate at
Soria to an episcopal see independent of Osma, but the hard-headed
chapter of the last named city refused to acknowledge the Pope's order,
and no bishop was elected or appointed.
This bitter hatred between the two rivals was the origin of many an
amusing incident. Upon one occasion the Bishop of Osma, visiting his
suffragan church in Soria, had the house in which he was stopping for
the night burnt about his ears. He moved off to another house, and on
the second night this was also mysteriously set on fire. His lordship
did not await the third night, afraid of what might happen, but bolted
back to his episcopal palace at Osma.
In 1520 the chapter of the Collegiate in Soria sent a petition to the
country's sovereign asking him to order the erection of a new church in
place of the old twelfth-century building, and in another part of the
town. The request was not granted, however, so what did the wily chapter
do? It ordered an architect to construct a chapel in the very centre of
the church, and when it was completed, admired the work with great
enthusiasm, excepting only the pillar in front of it which obstructed
the uninterrupted view. This pillar was the real support of the church,
and though the chapter was told as much (as though it did not know it!)
the architect was ordered to pull it down. After hesitating to do so,
the latter acceded: the pillar was pulled down, and with it the whole
church tumbled down as well! But the chapter's game was discovered, and
it was obliged to rebuild the cathedral on the same spot and with the
same materials.
Consequently, the church at Soria is a sixteenth-century building of
little or no merit, excepting the western front, which is the only part
of the old building that did not fall down, and is a fine specimen of
Castilian Romanesque, as well as the cloister, one of the handsomest,
besides being one of the few twelfth-century cloisters in Spain, with a
double row of slender columns supporting the round-headed arches. This
modification of the conventional type lends an aspect of peculiar
lightness to the otherwise heavy Romanesque.
As regards the settlement of the strife between Soria and Osma, the see
is to-day a double one, like that of Madrid and Alcala. Upon the death
of the present bishop, however, it will be transported definitely to
Soria, and consequently the inhabitants of the last named city will at
last be able to give thanks for the great mercies Allah or the True God
has bestowed upon them.
[Illustration: CLOISTER OF SORIA CATHEDRAL]
_Osma._--From an historical and architectural point of view, Osma,
the rival city on the Duero River, is much more important than Soria.
According to the tradition, St. James preached the Holy Gospel, and
after him St. Peter (or St. Paul?), who left his disciple St. Astorgio
behind as bishop (91 A. D.). Twenty-two bishops succeeded him, the
twenty-third on the list being John I., really the first of whose
existence we have any positive proof, for he signed the third council in
Toledo in the sixth century. In the eighth century, the Saracens drove
the shepherd of the Christian flock northward to Asturias, and it was
not until 1100 that the first bishop _de modernis_ was appointed by
Archbishop Bernardo of Toledo. The latter's choice fell on Peter, a
virtuous French monastic monk, who was canonized by the Pope after his
death, and figures in the calendar as St. Peter of Osma.
When the first bishop took possession of his see, he started to build
his cathedral. Instead of choosing Osma itself as the seat, however, he
selected the site of a convent on the opposite banks of the Duero (to
the north), where the Virgin had appeared to a shepherd. Houses soon
grew up around the temple and, to distinguish it from Osma, the new
city was called Burgo de Osma, a name it still retains.
In 1232, not a hundred years after the erection of the cathedral, it was
totally destroyed, excepting one or two chapels still to be seen in the
cloister, by Juan Dominguez, who was bishop at the time, and who wished
to possess a see more important in appearance than that left to him by
his predecessor, St. Peter.
The building as it stands to-day is small, but highly interesting. The
original plan was that of a Romanesque basilica with a three-lobed apse,
but in 1781 the ambulatory walk behind the altar joined the two lateral
aisles.
Two of the best pieces of sculptural work in the cathedral are the
_retablo_ of the high altar, and the relief imbedded in the wall of the
_trascoro_--both of them carved in wood by Juan de Juni, one of the best
Castilian sculptors of the sixteenth century. The plastic beauty of the
figures and their lifelike postures harmonize well with the simple
Renaissance columns ornamented here and there with finely wrought
flowers and garlands.
The chapel where St. Peter of Osma's body lies is an original rather
than a beautiful annex of the church. For, given the small dimensions of
the cathedral, it was difficult to find sufficient room for the chapels,
sacristy, vestuary, etc. In the case of the above chapel, therefore, it
was necessary to build it above the vestuary; it is reached by a flight
of stairs, beneath which two three-lobed arches lead to the sombre room
below. The result is highly original.
The same remarks as regard lack of space can be made when speaking about
the principal entrance. Previously the portal had been situated in the
western front; the erection of the tower on one side, and of a chapel on
the other, had rendered this entrance insignificant and half blinded by
the prominent tower. So a new one had to be erected, considered by many
art critics to be a beautiful addition to the cathedral properly
speaking, but which strikes the author as excessively ugly, especially
the upper half, with its balcony, and a hollow arch above it, in the
shadows of which the rose window loses both its artistic and its useful
object. So, being round, it is placed within a semicircular sort of
_avant-porche_ or recess, the strong _contours_ of which deform the
immense circle of the window.
To conclude: in the cathedral of Osma, bad architecture is only too
evident. The tower is perhaps the most elegant part, and yet the second
body, which was to give it a gradually sloping elegance, was omitted,
and the third placed directly upon the first. This is no improvement.
Perhaps the real reason for these architectural mishaps is not so much
the fault of the architects and artists as that of the chapter, and of
the flock which could not help satisfactorily toward the erection of a
worthy cathedral. Luckily, however, there are other cathedrals in Spain,
where, in spite of reduced funds, a decent and homogeneous building was
erected.
The cloister, bare on the inner side, is nevertheless a modest Gothic
structure with acceptable lobulated ogival windows.
_PART IV_
_Western Castile_
I
PALENCIA
The history of Palencia can be divided into two distinct parts,
separated from each other by a lapse of about five hundred years, during
which the city was entirely blotted out from the map of Spain.
The first period reaches from before the Roman Conquest to the
Visigothic domination.
Originally inhabited by the Vacceos, a Celtiberian tribe, it was one of
the last fortresses to succumb to Roman arms, having joined Numantia in
the terrible war waged by Spaniards and which has become both legendary
and universal.
Under Roman rule the broad belt of land, of which Palencia, a military
town on the road from Astorga to Tarragon, was the capital, flourished
as it had never done before. Consequently it is but natural that one of
the first sees should have been established there as soon as
Christianity invaded the peninsula. No records are, however, at hand as
regards the names of the first bishops and of the martyr saints, as
thick here as elsewhere and as numerous in Spain as in Rome itself. At
any rate, contemporary documents mention a Bishop Toribio, not the first
to occupy the see nor the same prelate who worked miracles in Orense and
Astorga. The Palencian Toribio fought also against the Priscilian
heresy, and was one of the impediments which stopped its spread further
southward. Of this man it is said that, disgusted with the heresy
practised at large in his Pallantia, he mounted on a hill, and,
stretching his arms heavenwards, caused the waters of the river to leave
their bed and inundate the city, a most efficacious means of bringing
loitering sheep to the fold.
Nowhere did the Visigoths wreak greater vengeance or harm on the
Iberians who had hindered their entry into the peninsula than in
Palencia. It was entirely wrecked and ruined, not one stone remaining to
tell the tale of the city that had been. Slowly it emerged from the
wreck, a village rather than a town; once in awhile its bishops are
mentioned, living rather in Toledo than in their humble see.
The Arab invasion devastated a second time the growing town; perhaps it
was Alfonso I. himself who completely wrecked it, for the Moorish
frontier was to the north of the city, and it was the sovereign's
tactics to raze to the ground all cities he could not keep, when he made
a risky incursion into hostile country.
So Palencia was forgotten until the eleventh century, when Sancho el
Mayor, King of Navarra, who had conquered this part of Castile,
reestablished the long-ignored see. He was hunting among the weeds that
covered the ruins of what had once been a Roman fortress, when a boar
sprang out of cover in front of him and escaped. Being light of foot,
the king followed the animal until it disappeared in a cave, or what
appeared to be such, though it really was a subterranean chapel
dedicated to the martyrs, or to the patron saint of old Pallantia,
namely, San Antolin.
The hunted beast cowered down in front of the altar; the king lifted his
arm to spear it, when lo, his arm was detained in mid-air by an
invisible hand! Immediately the monarch prostrated himself before the
miraculous effigy of the saint; he acknowledged his sacrilegious sin,
and prayed for forgiveness; the boar escaped, the monarch's arm fell to
his side, and a few days later the see was reestablished, a church was
erected above the subterranean chapel, and Bernardo was appointed the
first bishop (1035). After Sancho's death, his son Ferdinand, who, as we
have seen, managed to unite for the first time all Northern Spain
beneath his sceptre, made it a point of honour to favour the see his
father had erected a few months before his death, an example followed by
all later monarchs until the times of Isabel the Catholic.
A surprising number of houses were soon built around the cathedral, and
the city's future was most promising. Its bishops were among the
noble-blooded of the land, and enjoyed such exceptional privileges as
gave them power and wealth rarely equalled in the history of the middle
ages. But then, the city had been built for the church and not the
church for the city, and it is not to be marvelled at that the prelates
bore the title of "_hecho un rey y un papa_"--king and pope. The greater
part of these princes, it is true, lived at court rather than in their
episcopal see, which is, perhaps, one of the reasons why Palencia failed
to emulate with Burgos and Valladolid, though at one time it was the
residence of some of the kings of Castile.
Moreover, being only second in importance to the two last named cities,
Palencia was continually the seat of dissident noblemen and thwarted
heirs to the throne; because these latter, being unable to conquer the
capital, or Valladolid, invariably sought to establish themselves in
Palencia, sometimes successfully, at others being obliged to retreat
from the city walls. The story of the town is consequently one of the
most adventurous and varied to be read in Spanish history, and it is due
to the side it took in the rebellion against Charles-Quint, in the time
of the Comuneros, that it was finally obliged to cede its place
definitely to Valladolid, and lost its importance as one of the three
cities of Castilla la Vieja.
It remains to be mentioned that Palencia was the seat of the first
Spanish university (Christian, not Moorish), previous to either that of
Salamanca or Alcala. In 1208 this educational institution was founded by
Alfonso VIII.; professors were procured from Italy and France, and a
building was erected beside the cathedral and under its protecting wing.
It did not survive the monarch's death, however, for the reign of the
latter's son left but little spare time for science and letters, and in
1248 it was closed, though twenty years later Pope Urbano IV. futilely
endeavoured to reestablish it. According to a popular tradition, it owed
its definite death to the inhabitants of the town, who, bent upon
venging an outrage committed by one of the students upon a daughter of
the city, fell upon them one night at a given signal and killed them to
the last man.
In the fourteenth century, the cathedral, which had suffered enormously
from sieges and from the hands of enemies, was entirely pulled down and
a new one built on the same spot (June, 1321). The subterranean chapel,
which had been the cause of the city's resurrection, was still the
central attraction and relic of the cathedral, and, according to another
legend, no less marvellous than that of Toribio, its genuineness has
been placed definitely (?) without the pale of skeptic doubts. It
appears that one Pedro, Bishop of Osma (St. Peter of Osma?), was praying
before the effigy of San Antolin when the lights went out. The pious
yet doubting prelate prayed to God to give him a proof of the relic's
authenticity by lighting the candles. To his surprise (?) and glee, the
candles lit by themselves!
* * * * *
Let us approach the city by rail. The train leaves Venta de Banos, a
junction station with a village about two miles away possessing a
seventh-century Visigothic church which offers the great peculiarity of
horseshoe arches in its structure, dating from before the Arab invasion.
Immediately upon emerging from the station, the train enters an immense
rolling plain of a ruddy, sandy appearance, with here and there an
isolated sand-hill crowned by the forgotten ruins of a mediaeval castle.
The capital of this region is Palencia.
The erection of the cathedral church of the town was begun in 1321; it
was dedicated to the Mother and Child, and to San Antolin, whose chapel,
devoid of all artistic merit, is still to be seen beneath the choir.
This edifice was finished toward 1550. The same division as has been
observed in the history of the city can be applied to the temple: at
first it was intended to construct a modest Gothic church of red
sandstone; the apse with its five chapels and traditional ambulatory was
erected, as well as the transept and the high altar terminating the
central nave. Then, after about a hundred years had passed away, the
original plan was altered by lengthening the body of the building.
Consequently the chapel of the high altar was too small in comparison
with the enlarged proportions, and it was transformed into a parish
chapel. Opposite it, and to the west of the old transept, another high
altar was constructed in the central nave, and a second transept
separated it from the choir which followed.
In other words, and looking at this curious monument as it stands
to-day, the central nave is surmounted by an ogival vaulting of a series
of ten vaults. The first transept cuts the nave beneath the sixth, and
the second beneath the ninth vault. (Vault No. 1 is at the western end
of the church.) Both transepts protrude literally beyond the general
width of the building. The choir stands beneath the fourth and fifth
vaults, and the high altar between the two transepts, occupying the
seventh and eighth space. Beneath the tenth stands the parish chapel or
ex-high altar, behind which runs the ambulatory, on the off-side of
which are situated the five apsidal chapels. Consequently the second
transept separates the old from the new high altar.
[Illustration: PALENCIA CATHEDRAL]
In spite of the low aisles and nave, and the absence of sculptural
motives so pronounced in Burgos, the effect produced on the spectator by
the double cross and the unusual length as compared with the width is
agreeable. The evident lack of unity in the Gothic structure is
recompensed by the original and pleasing plan.
The final judgment that can be emitted concerning this cathedral church,
when seen from the outside, is that it shows the typical Spanish-Gothic
characteristic, namely, heaviness as contrasted to pure ogival
lightness. There is poverty in the decorative details, and solemnity in
the interior; the appearance from the outside is of a fortress rather
than a temple, with slightly pointed Gothic windows, and a heavy and
solid, rather than an elegant and light, general structure. Only the
cathedral church of Palencia outgrew the original model and took the
strange and exotic form it possesses to-day, without losing its
fortress-like aspect.
Though really built in stone (see the columns and pillars in the
interior), brick has been largely used in the exterior; hence also the
impossibility of erecting a pure Gothic building, and this is a remark
that can be applied to most churches in Spain. The buttresses are heavy,
the square tower (unfinished) is Romanesque or _Mudejar_ in form rather
than Gothic, though the windows be ogival. There is no western facade or
portal; the tower is situated on the southern side between the true
transepts.
Of the four doorways, two to the north and two to the south, which give
access to the transepts, the largest and richest in sculptural
decoration is the Bishop's Door (south). Observe the geometrical designs
in the panels of the otherwise ogival and slightly pointed doorway. The
other portal on the south is far simpler, and the arch which surmounts
it is of a purer Gothic style; not so the geometrically decorated panels
and the almost Arabian frieze which runs above the arches. This frieze
is Moorish or Mudejar-Byzantine, and though really it does not belong in
an ogival building, it harmonizes strangely with it.
In the interior of the cathedral the nakedness of the columns is
partially recompensed by the richness in sculptural design of some
sepulchres, as well as by several sixteenth-century grilles. The huge
_retablo_ of the high altar shows Gothic luxuriousness in its details,
and at the same time (in the capitals of the flanking columns) nascent
plateresque severity.
Perhaps the most interesting corner of the interior is the _trascoro_,
or the exterior side of the wall which closes the choir on the west.
Here the patronizing genius of Bishop Fonseca, a scion of the celebrated
Castilian family, excelled itself. The wall itself is richly sculptured,
and possesses two fine lateral reliefs. In the centre there is a Flemish
canvas of the sixteenth century, of excellent colour, and an elegantly
carved pulpit.
In the chapter-room are to be seen some well-preserved Flemish
tapestries, and in an apsidal chapel is one of Zurbaran's mystic
subjects: a praying nun. (This portrait, I believe, has been sold or
donated by the chapter, for, if I am not mistaken, it is to be seen
to-day in the art collection of the Spanish royal family.)
II
ZAMORA
Whatever may have been the origin of Zamora, erroneously confounded with
that of Numantia, it is not until the ninth century that the city, or
frontier fortress, appears in history as an Arab stronghold, taken from
the Moors and fortified anew by Alfonso I. or by his son Froila, and
necessarily lost and regained by Christians and Moors a hundred times
over in such terrible battles as the celebrated and much sung _dia de
Zamora_ in 901. In 939 another famous siege of the town was undertaken
by infidel hordes, but the strength of the citadel and the numerous
moats, six it appears they were in number, separated by high walls
surrounding the town, were invincible, and the Arab warriors had to
retreat. Nevertheless, between 900 and 980 the fortress was lost five
times by the Christians. The last Moor to take it was Almanzor, who
razed it to the ground and then repopulated it with Arabs from
Andalusia.
Previously, in 905, the parish church had been raised to an episcopal
see; the first to occupy it being one Atilano, canonized later by Pope
Urbano II.
Ten years after this bishop had taken possession of his spiritual
throne, he was troubled by certain religious scruples, and, putting on a
pilgrim's robe, he distributed his revenues among the parish poor and
left the city. Crossing the bridge,--still standing to-day and leading
from the town to Portugal,--he threw his pastoral ring into the river,
swearing he would only reoccupy the lost see when the ring should have
been given back into his hands; should this happen, it would prove that
the Almighty had pardoned his sins.
For two years he roamed about visiting shrines and succouring the poor;
at last one day he dreamed that his Master ordered him to repair
immediately to his see, where he was sorely needed. Returning to Zamora,
he passed the night in a neighbouring hermitage, and while supping--it
must have been Friday!--in the belly of the fish he was eating he
discovered his pastoral ring.
The following day the church-bells were rung by an invisible hand, and
the pilgrim, entering the city, was hailed as a saint by the
inhabitants; the same invisible hands took off his pilgrim's clothes and
dressed him in rich episcopal garments. He took possession of his see,
dying in the seventh year of his second reign.
Almanzor _el terrible_, on the last powerful raid the Moors were to
make, buried the Christian see beneath the ruins of the cathedral, and
erected a mezquita to glorify Allah; fifteen years later the city fell
into the hands of the Christians again, and saw no more an Arab army
beneath its walls.
It was not, however, until 125 years later that the ruined episcopal see
was reestablished _de modernis_, the first bishop being Bernardo (1124).
But previous to the above date, an event took place in and around Zamora
that has given national fame to the city, and has made it the centre of
a Spanish Iliad hardly less poetic or dramatic than the Homerian legend,
and therefore well worth narrating as perhaps unique in the peninsula,
not to say in the history of the middle ages.
When Fernando I. of Castile died in 1065, he left his vast territories
to his five children, bequeathing Castile to his eldest son Sancho,
Galicia to Garcia, Leon to Alfonso, Toro to Elvira, and Zamora to
Urraca, who was the eldest daughter, and, with Sancho, the bravest and
most intrepid of the five children.
According to the romance of Zamora, she, Dona Urraca, worried her
father's last moments by trying to wheedle more than Zamora out of him;
but the king was firm, adding only the following curse:
_"'Quien os la tomara, hija,_
_iLa mi maldicion le caiga!'--_
_Todos dicen amen, amen,_
_Sino Don Sancho que calla."_
Which in other words means: "Let my curse fall on whomsoever endeavours
to take Zamora from you.... Those who were present agreed by saying
amen; only the eldest son, Don Sancho, remained silent."
The latter, being ambitious, dethroned his brothers and sent them flying
across the frontier to Andalusia, then Moorish territory. Toro also
submitted to him, but not so Zamora, held by the dauntless Urraca and
the governor of the citadel, Arias Gonzalo. So it was besieged by the
royal troops and asked to surrender, the message being taken by the
great Cid from Don Sancho to his sister. She, of course, refused to give
up the town. Wherefore is not known, but the fact is that the Cid, the
ablest warrior in the hostile army, after having carried the embassy to
the Infanta, left the king's army; the many romances which treat of this
siege accuse him of having fallen in love with Dona Urraca's lovely
eyes,--a love that was perhaps reciprocated,--who knows?
In short, the city was besieged during nine months. Hunger, starvation,
and illness glared at the besieged. On the point of surrendering, they
were beseeched by the Infanta to hold out nine days longer; in the
meantime one Vellido Dolfo, famous in song, emerged by the city's
postern gate and went to King Sancho's camp, saying that he was tired of
serving Dona Urraca, with whom he had had a dispute, and that he would
show the king how to enter the city by a secret path.
According to the romances, it would appear that the king was warned by
the inhabitants themselves against the traitorous intentions of Vellido.
"Take care, King Sancho," they shouted from the walls, "and remember
that we warn you; a traitor has left the city gates who has already
committed treason four times, and is about to commit the fifth."
The king did not hearken, as is generally the case, and went out walking
with the knight who was to show him the secret gate; he never returned,
being killed by a spear-thrust under almost similar circumstances to
Siegfried's.
The father's curse had thus been fulfilled.
The traitor returned to the city, and, strange to say, was not punished,
or only insufficiently so; consequently, it is to-day believed that the
sister of the murdered monarch had a hand in the crime. Upon Vellido's
return to the besieged town, the governor wished to imprison him--which
in those days meant more than confinement--but the Infanta objected; it
is even stated that the traitor spoke with his heartless mistress,
saying: "It was time the promise should be fulfilled."
In the meanwhile, from the besieging army a solitary knight, Diego
Ordonez, rode up to the city walls, and accusing the inhabitants of
felony and treason, both men and women, young and old, living and dead,
born and to be born, he challenged them to a duel. It had to be
accepted, and, according to the laws of chivalry, the challenger had to
meet in single combat five champions, one after another, for he had
insulted, not a single man, but a community.
The gray-haired governor of the fortress reserved for himself and his
four sons the duty of accepting the challenge; the Infanta beseeched him
in vain to desist from his enterprise, but he was firm: his mistress's
honour was at stake. At last, persuaded by royal tears, according to the
romance, he agreed to let his sons precede him, and, only in case it
should be necessary, would he take the last turn.
The eldest son left the city gates, blessed by the weeping father; his
helmet and head were cleft in twain by Diego Ordonez's terrible sword,
and the latter's ironical shout was heard addressing the governor:
"Don Arias, send me hither another of your charming sons, because this
one cannot bear you the message."
A second and third son went forth, meeting the same fate: but the
latter's wounded horse, in throwing its rider, ran blindly into Ordonez
and knocked him out of the ring; the duel was therefore judged to be a
draw.
Several days afterward Alfonso, the dead king's younger brother, hurried
up from Toledo, and after swearing in Burgos that he had had nothing to
do with the felonious murder, was anointed King of Castile, Leon, and
Galicia. His brave sister Urraca lived with him at court, giving him
useful advice, until she retired to a convent, and at her death left her
palace and her fortune to the Collegiate Church at Leon.
The remaining history of Zamora is one interminable list of revolts,
sieges, massacres, and duels. As frontier fortress against Portugal in
the west, its importance as the last garrison town on the Duero was
exceptional, and consequently, though it never became important as a
metropolis, as a stronghold it was one of Castile's most strategical
points.
* * * * *
The best view of the city is obtained from the southern shore of the
Duero; on a low hill opposite the spectator, the city walls run east and
west; behind them, to the left, the castle towers loom up, square and
Byzantine in appearance; immediately to the right the cathedral nave
forms a horizontal line to where the _cimborio_ practically terminates
the church. Thus from afar it seems as though the castle tower were part
of the religious edifice, and the general appearance of the whole city
surrounded by massive walls cannot be more warlike. The colour also of
the ruddy sandstone and brick, brilliant beneath a bright blue sky, is
characteristic of this part of Castile, and certainly constitutes one of
its charms. What is more, the landscape is rendered more exotic or
African by the Oriental appearance of the whole town, its castle, and
its cathedral.
The latter was begun and ended in the twelfth century; the first stone
was laid in 1151, and the vaults were closed twenty-three years later,
in 1174; consequently it is one of the unique twelfth-century churches
in Spain completed before the year 1200. It is true that the original
edifice has been deformed by posterior additions and changes dating from
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.
Excepting these abominable additions, the primitive building is
Romanesque; not Romanesque as are the cathedrals we have seen in
Galicia, but Byzantine, or military Romanesque, showing decided
Oriental influences. Would to Heaven the cathedral of Zamora were to-day
as it stood in the twelfth century!
[Illustration: ZAMORA CATHEDRAL]
The form of the church is that of a basilica. Like the cathedral of
Palencia, it lacks a western front; the apse is semicircular,
strengthened by heavy leaning buttresses; the upper, towerless rim of
this same body is decorated with an ogival festoon set off by means of
the primitive pinnacles of the top of the buttresses. The northern
(Renaissance or plateresque) front is, though beautiful and severe in
itself, a calamity when compared with the Romanesque edifice, as is also
the new and horrid clock-tower.
The view of the southern end of the transept, as seen from the left, is
the most imposing to be obtained of the building. Two flights of steps
lead up to the Romanesque portal, flanked by three simple pillars, which
support three rounded arches deeply dentated(!). Blind windows, similar
in structure to the portal, occupy the second body of the facade, and
are surmounted in their turn by a simple row of inverted crenelated
teeth, showing in their rounded edges the timid use of the horseshoe
arc. The superior body is formed by two concentric and slightly ogival
arches embedded in the wall.
The greatest attraction, and that which above all gives a warlike aspect
to the whole building, is the _cimborio_, or lantern of the _croisee_.
Flanked by four circular turrets, which are pierced by round-topped
windows and surmounted by Oriental domes that add a stunted, solid
appearance to the whole, the principal cupola rises to the same height
as the previously mentioned turrets. The whole is a marvel of simple
architectural resource within the narrow limits of the round-arched
style. What is more, though this cupola and that of Santiago belong to
the same period, what a world of difference between the two! Seen as
indicated above, the _factura_ of the whole is intensely Oriental
(excepting the addition of the triangular cornices emerging from beneath
the cupola), and, it may be said in parenthesis, exceptionally fine.
Besides, the high walls of the aisles, as compared with the stunted
growth of the _cimborio_, and with the compact and slightly angular form
of the entire building, lend an unrivalled aspect of solidity, strength,
and resistance to the twelfth-century cathedral church, so
intrinsically different from that of Santiago.
The interior is no less peculiar, and particularly so beneath the
lantern of the _croisee_. The latter is composed of more than a dozen
windows, slightly ogival in shape, though from the outside the pillars
of the flanking turrets support round-headed arches; these windows are
separated from each other by simple columns or shafts. Again, what a
difference between this solid and simple _cimborio_ and the marvellous
lantern of the cathedral at Burgos! Two ages, two generations, even two
ideals, are represented in both; the earlier, the stronger, in Zamora;
the later, the more aerial and elaborate, in Burgos.
Another Romanesque characteristic is the approximate height of nave and
aisles. This circumstance examined from within or from without is one of
the causes of the solid appearance of the church; the windows of the
aisles--unimportant, it is true, from an artistic point of view--are
slightly ogival; those of the nave are far more primitive and
round-headed.
The transept, originally of the same length as the width of the church,
was prolonged in the fifteenth century. (On the south side also?... It
is extremely doubtful, as the southern facade previously described is
hardly a fifteenth-century construction; on the other hand, that on the
north side is easily classified as posterior to the general construction
of the building.)
Further, the western end, lacking a facade, is terminated by an apse,
that is, each aisle and the central nave run into a chapel. The effect
of this _double apse_ is highly peculiar, especially as seen from
within, with chapels to the east and chapels to the west.
The _retablo_ is of indifferent workmanship; the choir stalls, on the
other hand, are among the most exquisitely wrought--simple, sober, and
natural--to be seen in Spain, especially those of the lower row.
The chapels are as usual in Spanish cathedrals, as different in style as
they are in size; none of those in Zamora can be considered as artistic
jewels. The best is doubtless that which terminates the southern aisles
on the western end of the church, where the principal facade ought to
have been placed. It is Gothic, rich in its decoration, but showing here
and there the decadence of the northern style.
The cloister--well, anywhere else it might have been praised for its
plateresque simplicity and severity, but here!--it is out of date and
place.
To conclude, the general characteristics of the cathedral of Zamora are
such as justify the opinion that the edifice, especially as its
Byzantine-Oriental and severe primitive structure is concerned, is one
of the great churches that can still be admired in Spain, in spite of
the reduced size and of the additions which have been introduced.
NOTE.--To the traveller interested in church architecture, the
author wishes to draw attention to the parish church of La Magdalen
in Zamora. The northern portal of the same is one of the most
perfect--if not the most perfect--specimen of Byzantine-Romanesque
decoration to be met with in Spain. It is perhaps unique in the
world. At the same time, the severe Oriental appearance of the
church, both from the outside and as seen from within, cannot fail
to draw the attention of the most casual observer.
III
TORO
To the west of Valladolid, on the river Duero, Toro, the second of the
two great fortress cities, uplifts its Alcazar to the blue sky; like
Zamora, it owed its fame to its strategic position: first, as one of the
Christian outposts to the north of the Duero against the Arab
possessions to the south, and, secondly, as a link between Valladolid
and Zamora, the latter being the bulwark of Christian opposition against
the ever encroaching Portuguese.
Twin cities the fortresses have been called, and no better expression is
at hand to denote at once the similarity of their history, their
necessary origin, and their necessary decadence.
Nevertheless, Toro appears in history somewhat later than Zamora, having
been erected either on virgin soil, or upon the ruins of a destroyed
Arab fortress as late as in the tenth century, by Garcia, son of
Alfonso III. At any rate, it was not until a century later, in 1065,
that the city attained any importance, when Fernando I. bequeathed it to
his daughter Elvira, who, seeing her elder brother's impetuous
ambitions, handed over the town and the citadel to him.
Throughout the middle ages the name of Toro is foremost among the
important fortresses of Castile, and many an event--generally tragic and
bloody--took place behind its walls. Here Alfonso XI. murdered his uncle
in cold blood, and Don Pedro el Cruel, after besieging the town and the
citadel held in opposition to him by his mother, allowed her a free exit
with the gentlemen defenders of the place, but broke his word when they
were on the bridge, and murdered all excepting his widowed mother!
In the days of Isabel the Catholic, Toro was taken by the kings of
Portugal, who upheld the claims of Enrique IV's illegitimate daughter,
Juana la Beltranaja. In the vicinity of the town, the great battle of
Pelea Gonzalo was fought, which gave the western part of Castile to the
rightful sovereigns. This battle is famous for the many prelates and
curates who, armed,--and wearing trousers and not frocks!--fought like
Christians (!) in the ranks.
In Toro, Cortes was assembled in 1505 to open Queen Isabel's testament,
and to promulgate those laws which have gone down in Spanish history as
the Leyes de Toro; this was the last spark of Toro's fame, for since
then its fate has been identical with that of Zamora, forty miles away.
Strictly speaking, it is doubtful if Toro ever was a city; at one time
it seems to have possessed an ephemeral bishop,--at least such is the
popular belief,--who must have reigned in his see but a short time, as
at an early date the city was submitted to the ecclesiastical
jurisdiction of Astorga. Later, when the see was reestablished in
Zamora, the latter's twin sister, Toro, was definitely included in the
new episcopal diocese.
Be that as it may, the Catholic kings raised the church at Toro to a
collegiate in the sixteenth century (1500?) because they were anxious to
gain the good-will of the inhabitants after the Portuguese invasion.
Built either toward the end of the twelfth or the beginning of the
thirteenth century, Santa Maria la Mayor, popularly called _la
catedral_, closely resembles the cathedral church at Zamora. The style
is the same (Byzantine-Romanesque), and the impression of strength and
solidity produced by the warlike aspect of the building is even more
pronounced than in the case of the sister church.
The general plan is that of a basilica, rectangular in shape, with a
three-lobed apse, the central lobe being by far the largest in size, and
a transept which protrudes slightly beyond the width of the church. This
transept is situated immediately in front of the apse; the _croisee_ is
surmounted by the handsome _cimborio_, larger than that at Zamora,
pierced by twice as many round-topped windows, but lacking a cupola, as
do also the flanking towers, which are flat-topped. Above and between
these latter, the cone-shaped roof of the _cimborio_, properly speaking,
is sloping and triangular in its cross-section.
This body, less Oriental in appearance than the one in Zamora, impresses
one with a feeling of greater awe, thanks to the great diameter as
compared with the foreshortened height. Crowning as it does the apse
(from the proximity of the transept to the head of the church), the
_croisee_, and the two wings of the transept, the cupola in question
produces a weird and incomprehensible effect on the spectator viewing it
from the southeast. The more modern tower, which backs the _cimborio_,
lends, it is true, a certain elegance to the edifice that the early
builders were not willing to impart. The ensemble is, nevertheless,
peculiarly Byzantine, and, with the mother-church in Zamora, which it
resembles without copying, it stands almost unique in the history of
art.