incline to Mr. Street’s view that the correct rendering is probably
Pierre le Pierre, the architect having been, as the name implies, a
Frenchman. “This, at any rate,” continues Mr. Street, “is certain: the
first architect of Toledo, whether he were French or Spanish, was
thoroughly well acquainted with the best French churches, and could not
otherwise have done what he did. In Spain, there was nothing to lead
gradually to the full development of the Pointed style. We find, on the
contrary, buildings, planned evidently by foreign hands, rising suddenly
without any connection with other buildings in their own district, and
yet with most obvious features of similarity to works in other countries
erected just before them. Such is the case with the cathedrals at
Burgos, at Leon, and at Santiago, and such even more decidedly is the
case here. Moreover, in Toledo, if anywhere, was such a circumstance to
be expected. In this part of Spain there was in the thirteenth century
no trained school of native artists. Even after the conquest the Moors
continued to act as architects for Christian buildings whether secular
or ecclesiastical, and, indeed, to monopolise all the art and science of
the country which they no longer ruled. In such a state of things I can
imagine nothing more natural than that, though the Toledans may have
been well content to employ Mohammedan art in their ordinary works, yet,
when it came to be a question of rebuilding their cathedral on a scale
vaster than anything which had as yet been attempted, they would be
anxious to adopt some distinctly Christian form of art; and lacking
entirely any school of their own, would be more likely to secure the
services of a Frenchman than one of any other nation.... But however
this may have been, the church is thoroughly French in its ground-plan
and equally French in all its details for some height from the ground;
and it is not until we reach the triforium of the Choir that any other
influence is visible; but even here the work is French work, only
slightly modified by some acquaintance with Moorish art....”
The stupendous fabric, once begun, whether by French or Spanish hands,
took two hundred and sixty-six years to finish. From the death of the
first architect in 1270 to the year 1425 the names of the architects
have been lost. During this period, the successive styles of
architecture naturally influenced the original scheme and found
expression in the building. It was in January 1493 that the roof was
finished and the main structure completed. Certain chapels, such as the
Reyes Nuevos, Sagrario, &c., were later additions. Among the later
architects we find Rodrigo Alfonso, Alvar Gomez, Martin Sanchez, and
Juan Guas. The stone employed inside (according to O’Shea) was quarried
at Oliguelas, some nine miles from the city. It becomes harder with age.
“The external portion is all of Berroqueña stone, save the ornamentation
of the portals, which is also of Oliguelas white stone.”
The Cathedral forms an oblong, semicircular at the eastern end, and
lying east and west. In width it is exceeded only by the Cathedrals of
Milan and Seville, measuring 178 feet broad by 395 feet long. On the
north side are the cloisters and additional chapels and sacristies. From
the eastern side project the chapels of the Reyes Nuevos, San Ildefonso,
and Santiago, and the Winter Chapter-room. The plan of the interior is
easy of comprehension. The nave extends from the western entrance to the
Capilla Mayor: on either side of it are two aisles which are continued
round and behind this chapel in a semicircular sweep. Street extols the
skill with which this arrangement has been carried out. Between the
Choir and the Capilla Mayor a transept extends across the church, not
projecting, however, beyond the outer walls of the farther aisles. The
eighty-eight pillars which support the fabric and mark off these
divisions are composed each of from eight to sixteen light columns,
standing on the same base. The capitals are moulded in plain foliage.
The arches resting on these pillars make up the seventy-two vaults of
which the roof is composed. The aisles rise gradually in towards the
central nave, which is 116 feet high. The crypt or substructure
corresponds in its divisions and the number of its piers to the edifice
above. The pavement is of bluish white marble arranged in chequers.
In the original plan no side-chapels appear to have been contemplated.
But the chapel of Santa Lucia was added by Archbishop de Rada in memory
of Alfonso VI. And, in addition to chapels built since the rest of the
church, the spaces between the buttresses in the outer aisles have been
railed off so as to form twenty-three chapels of various styles and
periods. The interior is lit by 750 stained-glass windows of rich hues
that delight the spectator. They depict episodes from the Scriptures,
and are said to have been as carefully designed as if intended for close
inspection. Among the artists were Dolfin (1418), De Vergara, Albert of
Holland, Maese Cristobal, Juan de Campos, Vasco Troya, and Pedro
Francés. The effect of the light falling in rays of richest colour on
the pavement and columns is magical. The walls are denuded of colour and
rudely whitewashed.
The centre of the Cathedral is occupied by the choir (_Coro_), to the
east of which, separated by the transept, is the Capilla Mayor. The
choir is enclosed by walls and cloisters, except on the side facing the
Capilla Mayor, where it is railed in by the magnificent reja, designed
by Domingo de Cespedes and Hernando Bravo (1548). Like the corresponding
railing of the High Chapel opposite, this work was formerly heavily
silver-plated and gilded, but at the time of the French invasion it was
recoated with iron to secure it from spoliation. Unfortunately, no
means have yet been discovered of restoring the reja to its original
state. Among the elaborate ornamentation may be noticed the arms of
Cardinal Siliceo and of the Ayala family, with the interwoven
inscriptions _Procul esto prophani_ and _Psale et psile_. The Choir is
paved with white marble inlaid with dark. The vaulting above the Choir
itself rises to the height of a hundred feet, the aisle round it to
ninety feet, and the outer aisle to thirty-five feet. In the outer aisle
are small chapels placed between the buttresses. Mr. Street describes
this part of the building in great detail and considers that the
original scheme of the Cathedral is only to be seen here. The triforium,
formed of an arcade of cusped arches, in the outer wall of the inner
aisle exhibits Moorish influence. “It would be impossible,” writes the
authority just mentioned, “to imagine any circumstance which could
afford better evidence of the foreign origin of the first design than
this slight concession to the customs of the place in a slightly later
portion of the works. An architect who came from France, bent on
designing nothing but a French church, would be very likely, after a few
years’ residence in Toledo, somewhat to change in his views, and to
attempt something in which the Moorish work, which he was in the habit
of seeing, would have its influence. The detail of this triforium is,
notwithstanding, all pure and good....”
The Choir is enriched by a magnificent screen, lecterns, and stalls. The
screen, or _respaldo_, which at one time seems to have been continued
right across the transept, encloses the Choir on three sides, and
consists of an arcade carried on fifty-two columns of jasper and marble,
and supporting and enclosing admirable statuary and sculpture. Above the
capitals of the columns is a series of fifty-six medallions in high
relief, dating from 1380, and representing scenes from the Old
Testament. These reliefs are worthy of close study, and are beautiful
examples of simple and faithful mediæval treatment. The series is
supplemented by a medallion with a bust by Berruguete and the statues of
Innocence and Sin, by Nicolas de Vergara--works on which Street outpours
the vials of his wrath.
Of the wonderful Choir Stalls of Toledo everyone has heard. They are
unsurpassed triumphs of the carver’s art. The lower tier, including
fifty seats, is the work of Maese Rodrigo, and dates from 1495. The
stalls are of walnut wood, and the carving portrays the campaign against
Granada by the Catholic Sovereigns. The carving being almost
contemporary with the events illustrated has given these reliefs an
historical as well as an artistic value. The names of the fortresses
are here and there indicated by labels, and the designs are somewhat
marred by the introduction of fanciful monsters. The whole breathes very
much of the mediæval spirit, and we can, therefore, hardly complain of a
certain stiffness and lack of variety. They form an admirable contrast
to the finer, more finished work of the upper tier of stalls, executed
fifty years later by Berruguete and Philip of Burgundy, surnamed
Vigarni. Thirty-five seats, including the Primate’s, are the work of the
Spaniard, the thirty-six opposite exhibiting the skill of the
Burgundian. “They were wrought,” says O’Shea, “in rivalry of each other,
and finished in 1543; and as Cardinal Tavera’s inscription runs:
‘Certaverunt turn artificum ingenia; certabunt semper spectatorum
judicia.’” The stalls are placed in recesses of alabaster, and separated
by fine red jasper columns, with capitals in white marble. Over the
recesses is a series of alabaster figures in low relief of the prophets
and patriarchs. The carvings on the stalls themselves depict episodes
from both the New and Old Testaments. The work breathes the spirit of
the Renaissance, interpreted by Berruguete and his colleague with a
skill, it has been truly observed, worthy of Benvenuto Cellini himself.
Berruguete was a pupil of Michelangelo. His work is more vigorous than
that of Vigarni, who excels in elegance and softness of outline.
Street’s denunciations of these triumphs of the carver’s art are a
curious instance of the length to which an artistic bias may lead a
clever writer and critic. The reliefs representing the visits of the
Blessed Virgin to Purgatory and to St. Ildefonso are not by Philip of
Burgundy, but by his brother Gregorio.
Very fine are the reading-desks, with friezes of gilded bronze, executed
by the two Vergaras in the middle of the sixteenth century. Those on the
Epistle side are carved in low relief with the stories of David and
Saul, the Blessed Virgin and St. Ildefonso, and the Apocalypse; those on
the Gospel side, the stories of St. Ildefonso, the Ark of the Covenant,
and the Passage of the Red Sea. In the centre of the Choir is a
magnificent brass lectern upheld by a great eagle with wings outspread;
its eyes are of red stones and it crushes with its talons a struggling
dragon. It was executed in 1646 by Salinas. The pedestal on which it
stands is older by two hundred years, and is thoroughly Gothic in
character, with buttresses, pinnacles, and statuary. The work is said to
be German. The pedestal is borne by six lions, finely sculptured.
The northern entrance to the transept, which separates the Choir from
the Capilla Mayor, affords the best and least interrupted view of the
Cathedral. That view impressed the writer with its calm majesty and
sanctity, but by way of contrast it is worth while recording the
impressions of a traveller only lately returned (Mr. Stewart Dick): “My
first feeling was one of disappointment--a feeling that even now has
hardly worn away.
“It is vast and cold. A white expanse. Huge pillars towering up to a
great height. A blaze of harsh daylight. In the middle, blocking up the
view down the nave, the tawdry gilt of the Coro. Doors opening and
banging all round, people promenading, sitting on the bases of the
pillars and talking with undropped voices. You ask yourself with
amazement, Is this a church? The form is here, but where is the spirit?
“In fact, it is only in the evening that Toledo Cathedral comes into its
own. It is quiet and peaceful then. The promenaders have all gone away,
the blaring of the organ has ceased, and through the open door you hear
the twittering of birds in the cloisters. The shadows darken among the
pillars, the beautiful windows begin to glow, and a soft light fills the
upper part of the church. It is like the opening of a flower.
“Then at last you begin to feel the impressiveness and the dignity of
those avenues of mighty pillars. The trivialities that annoyed you are
lost, the effects are broad, grand, and majestic, and at last the
building is a temple; it seems as if the Holy Spirit had entered with
the fall of the twilight.”
The Capilla Mayor, or High Chapel, occupies the eastern end of the nave,
the aisles sweeping round behind it. The hinder portion was originally
the Capilla de los Reyes Viejos, the chapel in which were entombed
Sancho el Bravo, Sancho el Deseado, Alfonso VII., and others. In the
year 1498 the two chapels were thrown into one by Cardinal Cisneros, who
left the royal tombs for a time undisturbed. The High Chapel, according
to O’Shea, measures 56 feet in length, 50 feet in breadth, and 116 feet
in height. The piers are sculptured with the effigies of kings,
prelates, and saints, and with “a multitude of angels playing on
different instruments, and with outspread wings, that want but incense
to raise them again from the spot where they have alighted.” The walls
of the chapel are pierced or of open-work, the stone in parts being
almost transparent, and thus adding to the brightness of the effect. Two
rows of statuary enhance the beauty of the stonework, which is among the
earliest portions of the fabric. But these walls, for all their
magnificence, are put in the shade by the superb reja or railing, facing
that of the Choir, and contemporary with it. This work is thus described
by Señor Riaño: ‘The reja is 42 feet wide by 19 inches high; it rests
on a pediment of marble ornamented with masks and bronze work upon which
rises the reja, which is divided horizontally by means of a frieze of
ornamentation, and this again vertically into five compartments. In each
vertical division there is a pilaster of four sides formed of _repoussé_
plates, carved with a fine ornamentation in the Renaissance style; this
is again terminated with life-size figures in high relief of bronze. The
second compartment rises upon the band which divides it in a horizontal
sense; it follows the same decoration in its pilasters, and is
terminated by a series of coats of arms, torches, angels, and a variety
of foliage which finishes the upper part. Upon the centre, hanging from
a thick chain, supported from the roof, is suspended a life-size Rood of
admirable effect, which completes the decoration. In several spots there
are labels with mottoes in Latin; in one of them appears the following
inscription, and the date of 1548, when the splendid work was finished:
‘Anno MDXLVIII. Paul III. P.M. Carol. V. Imper. Rege. Joannes Martinez
Siliccus Archiepiscopus Tolet. Hispaniae Primat.’ The railings of the
reja are silvered, and the reliefs and salient points gilt. The artist
who made it was Francisco Villalpando, a native of Valladolid; this
model was chosen in preference to those of several artists, who
presented their plans in competition before the ecclesiastical
authorities; it is calculated that ten years elapsed before it was
finally finished, Villalpando was greatly distinguished likewise as a
sculptor and architect.” By him are the gilt pulpits in the plateresque
style, made from the bronze tomb that the Great Constable, De Luna, had
caused to be designed for himself. On a pier at the extremity of the
chapel is the statue of the celebrated shepherd, Martin Alhaga, who is
said to have, semi-miraculously, guided Alfonso VIII. and his army to
the rear of the Moorish forces at Las Navas de Tolosa--thus securing the
victory to the Christians. The king, who alone saw his features, is said
to have designed the statue. Opposite is the figure of the Moorish
Alfaqui, Abu Walid, whose intercession secured the old mosque to the
Catholics, in the manner already narrated.
The splendour of the High Altar, with its jasper and bronzes, renders a
detailed description impossible and inadequate. Its magnificent retablo,
rising to the very roof, is the richest gem of the Cathedral. Designed
by Philip Vigarni (Borgoña), and painted and gilded by his brother Juan,
numerous other masters contributed to its excellences. We may name
Maître Petit Jean (of France or Aragon), Almonacid (a converted Moor),
Copin (a Dutchman), Francesco of Antwerp, Fernando del Rincon, Egas, and
Pedro Gumiel. The retablo is of wood and divided into five compartments
by gorgeous columns. The subjects are from the New Testament, and are
worked out with immense and ornate elaboration. The whole is crowned
with a colossal Calvary. Behind the High Altar is placed that
extraordinary example of eighteenth-century bad taste, the too famous
_Transparente_. The whole architecture, painting, statues, carving and
bronze is the work of the same person, Narciso Thomé who completed it in
1734. Much as we may denounce the taste (or rather the lack of it) of
this triumph of the Churrigueresque style, we are obliged to admire the
wonderful execution of this misdirected genius.
The royal tombs lie around the High Altar. They were placed in recesses,
sculptured in the Gothic style by Diego Copin of Holland, by order of
Cardinal Cisneros in 1507. The arches are peculiarly graceful and light.
The tombs themselves date from much earlier times. Here sleep their last
sleep Alfonso VII., Sancho el Bravo, Sancho el Deseado, and several
Infantes. To the left of the altar is the sepulchre, more glorious than
any king’s, of the great Cardinal Mendoza, erected by order of Isabel
the Catholic, who owed so much to him. It was the work of Covarrubias,
and is all of precious marbles. One side is formed by the sarcophagus
with its recumbent effigy, the other by an altar. Above this last is a
medallion representing the Archbishop Adoring the Cross. Part of the
wall was demolished to make room for this stately mausoleum. Beneath the
Capilla Mayor is a subterranean chapel, not of special interest. It
contains a Burial of Christ by Copin, deserving of an inspection that in
the dim light is well-nigh impossible, and some pictures by Ricci.
At the eastern extremity of the Cathedral, behind the Capilla Mayor and
projecting beyond the general outline, is the chapel of San Ildefonso.
Erected by Archbishop de Rada, it remains the last important
middle-pointed feature of the building, though considerably modified by
Cardinal Albornoz in the latter part of the fourteenth century. It is
eight-sided, and has beautiful traceried windows, and arches richly
moulded and decorated. In arched recesses, beneath gabled and pinnacled
canopies, are the tombs of Cardinal Albornoz, and several members of his
family. There is much beautiful detail on the tomb of Don Iñigo de
Mendoza, who fell at Granada in 1491; and the sepulchre of the Bishop of
Avila by Tejada is a noble temple of the plateresque. The altar is
modern. St. Ildefonso was the prelate who distinguished himself by his
advocacy of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. In return he is
said to have received signal marks of favour from the Blessed Virgin,
who invested him with a cassock, came down to attend Matins in his
company, and so forth.
To the north of this chapel is the larger Capilla de Santiago, likewise
projecting beyond the original ground plan, and dating from 1435. It was
built by order of the Great Constable, Alvaro de Luna, to be the place
of sepulchre of himself and wife, on the site of an earlier chapel
dedicated to St. Thomas à Becket. The plan is similar to that of the
last chapel described. Outside, the flat-pitched tile roof is finished
with a battlement and circular turrets at the angles. The most
conspicuous features of the chapel are the tombs, in Carrara marble, of
the Constable Alvaro de Luna and his wife Doña Juana Pimentel. The
Constable is shown in full armour, and at each corner of his tomb kneels
a knight of Santiago, of which order he was Grand Master. Four
Franciscan monks attend on his lady. In niches in the wall repose
kinsmen of the ill-fated Constable, the tombs all having been executed
by permission of Isabel the Catholic, by Pablo Ortiz in 1488,
thirty-five years after De Luna’s death on the scaffold at Valladolid.
The tombs designed for the Constable in his lifetime were to have been
furnished with life-size figures in bronze, which, by mechanical
contrivance, were to have risen each time Mass was celebrated, and to
have remained during the service in a kneeling posture. These figures
were destroyed by the Infante Don Enrique, and the bronze was used by
Villalpando for the pulpits in the Capilla Mayor. The retablo of the
High Altar reveals the portraits of the founder and his wife by Juan de
Segovia. “The chapel,” says Mr. Street, “bears evidence in the
‘perpendicular’ character of its panelling, arcading and crocketing, of
the poverty of the age in the matter of design. At this period, indeed,
the designers were sculptors rather than architects, and thought of
little but the display of their own manual dexterity.”
Passing down a corridor between this chapel and that of Santa Leocadia
we reach the Capilla de los Reyes Nuevos, lying quite outside the
original plan of the Cathedral. It was founded by Enrique II. of
Trastamara, and contains his tomb, his wife’s, and the sepulchres of
Enrique III., his Queen, Katharine of Lancaster, Juan I. and Queen
Leonor, and the effigy of Juan II., who is buried near Burgos. The
chapel is a fine specimen of the Renaissance style, reconstructed by
Alfonso de Covarrubias in 1534. The portal is fine, and is guarded by
two kings armed and bearing escutcheons. During Mass, a gorgeously
apparelled functionary holds upright a mace, crowned and jewelled, and
with the arms of Spain.
The side-chapels of the Cathedral are not, on the whole, as interesting
as one would expect in a building of such antiquity and associations. To
the south of the Capilla de San Ildefonso is the Capilla de la Trinidad;
next comes the entrance to the Chapter House or Sala Capitular, an early
sixteenth-century work with an artesonado ceiling in red, blue, and
gold, excelling anything of the kind in Andalusia. The thirteen frescoes
adorning the walls of the Chapter House are by Juan de Borgoña, who was
also responsible for the earlier series of portraits of the archbishops.
Copin’s work is to be recognised in the archiepiscopal throne, the other
stalls being by Francisco de Lara. Returning to the church through a
portal in the Moorish style, we find on the left the chapel of San
Nicolas, followed by the chapels of San Gil, San Juan Bautista, Santa
Ana, and the Reyes Viejos, founded in 1290 as the Capilla del Espritu
Santo, with a fine reja by Céspedes. The chapel of Santa Lucia, founded
by Archbishop de Rada, is, of course, in the best Gothic style, and has
“an extremely rich recessed arch in stucco, of late Moorish work--a
curious contrast to the fine pointed work of the chapel.”
The Capilla de San Eugenio contains the alabaster effigy of Bishop del
Castillo (1521), and the tomb in the Mudejar style of the Alguacil
Fernan Gudiel (1278). The statue of the saint is by Copin, the
paintings on the retablo by Juan de Borgoña. Adjacent to the chapel is
the colossal figure of Saint Christopher, usually seen in Spanish
churches. This figure is probably coeval with the fabric, but was
restored in 1638. A primitive style of art is also to be seen in the
altar-piece of the Capilla de San Martin. The next two chapels--de la
Epifania and de la Concepcion--do not present any features of special
interest.
In the south-west angle of the church is the interesting Mozárabic
Chapel, built in 1504 by Enrique de Egas, under the orders of the famous
Cardinal Ximenes de Cisneros. It is devoted to the celebration of Mass
and the offices of the church according to the Mozárabic ritual, which
till the middle of the last century was followed in six of the parish
churches. The Cupola dates from 1626, and was the work of Jorge Manuel
Theotocopuli. The porch is Gothic, and the reja in good Renaissance
style, executed by Juan Frances in 1524. The frescoes, of no great
value, painted by Juan de Borgoña, represent the expedition against
Oran, in which the great Cardinal took part. Miss Hannah Lynch gives a
vigorously worded account of a service in this chapel according to its
peculiar rite: “The quaint old ritual may be heard every morning at 9
A.M., and will be found extremely puzzling to follow. The canons, in a
sombre, flat monotone, chant responses to the officiating priest at the
altar. The sound combines the enervating effect of the hum of wings,
whirr of looms, wooden thud of pedals, the boom and rush of immense
wings circling round and round. After the first stupefaction, I have
never heard anything more calculated to produce headache, nervous
irritation, or the contrary soporific effect. In summer, it must be
terrible.”