Chapter X: Appendix: B

JET-WORK OF SANTIAGO

In former times the art of carving jet was largely practised at this town. The characteristic form was the _signaculum_ or image of Saint James; that is, a more or less uncouth representation of the apostle in full pilgrim's dress. The height of these images, which are now dispersed all over Europe, varies between four and seven inches. They are fully described in Drury Fortnum's monographs, _On a signaculum of Saint James of Compostela_, and _Notes on other signacula of Saint James of Compostela_, as well as in Villa-amil y Castro's _La azabachería compostelana_. These objects were sold in quantities to the pilgrims visiting Santiago, who nevertheless were often cheated by the substitution of black glass for jet.[59]

[59] The following passage from Townsend's Journey through Spain (Vol.
II., p. 56), is curious as showing where jet was formerly found in
this Peninsula. "When I returned to Oviedo, a gentleman gave me a
collection of amber and of jet, of which there is great abundance
in this province: but the two most considerable mines of it are in
the territory of Beloncia, one in a valley called Las Guerrias, the
other on the side of a high mountain in the village of Arenas, in
the parish of Val de Soto. The former is found in slate, and looks
like wood: but when broke, the nodules discover a white crust,
inclosing yellow amber, bright and transparent. Jet and a species
of kennel coal, abounding with marcasites, universally accompany
the amber."

Specimens of this work are in the British and Cluny Museums, and in the Archæological Museum at Madrid. An interesting jet figure of the apostle on horseback belonged to the late Count of Valencia de Don Juan. Jet processional crosses (twelfth and thirteenth century), studded with enamel, and which were used at funerals, are preserved in the cathedrals of Oviedo and Orense. Rings, rosaries, and amulets were also carved from this material.

As to Spanish processional crosses generally (the use of which was undoubtedly borrowed from the standard borne at the head of pagan armies), I may say that they are commonly fitted with a handle, called the _cruz baja_ or "lower cross," though sometimes this handle is dispensed with, as, for instance, at the funerals of infants. According to Villa-amil y Castro, the typical shape of the Spanish processional cross has always been that denominated the _immissa_, consisting of four arms terminating in straight edges. The same authority says that within this broader definition the primitive form was the Greek cross, that is, having four arms of equal length. Another early form was the "Oviedo" cross (see Vol. I., Plate II.), with the four arms in the shape of trapezia, united at the centre by a disc. Of this latter shape are, or were, the crosses of Guarrazar and those which were presented by Alfonso the Second and Alfonso the Third to the cathedrals of Oviedo and Santiago.

A later form was the _potenzada_ cross, which had a cross-piece fixed at the extremity of each arm. As time advanced, this T-shaped termination to the arms assumed such decorative and capricious forms as the trefoil and the fleur-de-lis. Early in the history of the Spanish church the processional cross consisted often of a wooden core, covered with more or less profusely ornamented silver plates, and having, between the handle and the upper part, an enamelled bulb or _n[oe]ud_. The image of Christ, converting the cross into the crucifix, was not attached until a later period, because, as Villa-amil y Castro has remarked, the primitive Christians considered the essential glory of their faith, rather than, as yet, the perils and the pains to which they were exposed by clinging to that faith. The cross was thus the symbol of the Christian's glory; the crucifix, of his suffering.[60]

[60] As for the clothing of sacred images in Spain, even these are
subject to changes in the fashion of costume. Ford makes merry over
"the Saviour in a court-dress, with wig and breeches." Swinburne
wrote in 1775, from Alicante: "We have been all the morning in
great uneasiness about Sir T. G.'s valet de chambre, who, till
within this hour, was not to be found in any of the places he
usually frequents. His appearance has quieted our apprehensions;
and it seems he has been from sunrise till dinner-time locked up
in the sacristy of the great church, curling and frizzling the
flaxen periwig of the statue of the Virgin, who is to-morrow to be
carried in solemn procession through the city."

A similar passage occurs in one of the letters of Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu. "I was particularly diverted," she wrote from Nuremberg in
1716, "in a little Roman Catholic church which is permitted here,
where the professors of that religion are not very rich, and
consequently cannot adorn their images in so rich a manner as their
neighbours. For, not to be quite destitute of all finery, they have
dressed up an image of our Saviour over the altar in a fair,
full-bottomed wig, very well powdered."