Chapter VII: Conclusion (2)

The last Spanish city on the Mino, the Rhine of Galicia, as beautiful as its German rival, and as rich in architectural remains, both military and ecclesiastical, is Tuy, the Castellum Tude of the Romans, lying half-way on the main road from Braga (Portugal) to Lugo and Astorga in Spain.

The approach to the city by rail from Orense is simply superb. The valley of the Mino is broad and luxuriant, with ruins of castles to the right and to the left, ahead and behind; in the distance, time-old Tuy, the city of a hundred misfortunes, is seated on an isolated hill, the summit of which is crowned by a fortress-cathedral of the twelfth century.

Tuy sits on her hill, and gazes across the river at Valenca do Minho, the rival fortress opposite, and the first town in Portugal. A handsome bridge unites the enemies--friends to-day. Nevertheless, the cannons' mouths of the glaring strongholds are for ever pointed toward each other, as though wishing to recall those days of the middle ages when Tuy was the goal of Portuguese ambitions and the last Spanish town in Galicia.

Before the Romans conquered Iberia, Tuy, which is evidently a Celtic name, was a most important town. This is easily explained by its position, a sort of inland Gibraltar, backed by the Sierra to the rear, and crowning the river which brought ships from the ocean to its wharves. The city's future was brilliant.

Matters changed soon, however. The Romans drew away much of its power to cities further inland, as was their wont. The castle remained standing, as did the walls, which reached on the northern shores of the river down to Guardia, situated in the delta about thirty miles away. Remains of the cyclopean walls which crown the mountain chain on the Spanish side of the Mino are still to be seen to-day, yet they give but a feeble idea of the city's former strength.

After the Romans had been defeated by the invasion of savage tribes from the north, Tuy became the capital of the Suevos, a tribe opposed to the Visigoths, who settled in the rest of Spain, and for centuries waged a cruel war against the kings whose subjects had settled principally in Galicia and in the north of Portugal.

The power of the Suevos, who were seated firmly in Tuy, was at last completely broken, and the capital, its inhabitants fighting energetically to the end, was at length conquered. It was the last stronghold to fall into the hands of the conquerors. A century later Witiza, the sovereign of the Visigoths, made Tuy his capital for some length of time, and the district round about is full of the traditions of the doings of this monarch. Most of these legends denigrate his character, and make him appear cruel, wilful, and false. One of them, concerning Duke Favila and Dona Luz, is perhaps the most popular. According to it, Witiza fell in love with the former's wife, Dona Luz, and, to remove the husband, he heartlessly had his eyes put out, on the charge of being ambitious, and of having conspired against the throne. The fate that awaited Dona Luz, who defended her honour, was no better, according to this legend.

After the return of Witiza to Toledo, the city slowly lost its importance, and since then she has never recovered her ancient fame.

Like the remaining seaports of Galicia,--or such cities as were situated near the ocean,--Tuy was sacked and pillaged by Arabs and vikings alike. The times were extremely warlike, and Galicia, from her position, and on account of the independent spirit of the noblemen, was called upon to suffer more than any other region, and Tuy, near the ocean, and a frontier town to boot, underwent greater hardships than any other Galician city. Of an admirable natural position, it would have been able to resist the attacks of Gudroed and Olaf, of the Portuguese noblemen and of Arab armies, had it been but decently fortified. The lack of such fortifications, however, and the neglect and indifference with which it was, as a rule, regarded by the kings of Asturias, easily account for its having fallen into the hands of enemies, of having been razed more than once to the ground, of having been the seat of ambitious and conspiring noblemen who were only bent on thrashing their neighbours, Christians and infidels alike.

In the sixth century Tuy had already been raised to the dignity of a city, but until after the eleventh century the prelates of the church, tyrants when the times were propitious, but cowardly when danger was at hand, were continually removing their see to the neighbouring villages and mountains to the rear. They left their church with surprising alacrity and ease to the mercy of warriors and enemies, to such an extent, in fact, that neither are documents at hand to tell us what happened exactly in the darker ages of mediaeval history, nor are the existing monuments in themselves sufficient to convince us of the vicissitudes which befell the city, its see, and the latter's flocks.

Since the last Arab and Norseman raid, matters seemed to have gone better with fair Tuy, for, excepting the continual strife between Portuguese and Galician noblemen, who were for ever gaining and losing the city on the Mino, neither infidels nor pirates visited its wharves. It was then that the foundations of the present cathedral were laid, but not without disputes between the prelates (one of whom was taken prisoner, and had to give a handsome ransom to be released) and the noblemen who called themselves seigneurs of the city. Between the claims and struggles of these two factions, those who suffered most were the citizens themselves, who had nothing to gain and everything to lose. Between the bishops who pretended to possess the whole city, and the noblemen who endeavoured to leave the prelates without a groat, the ignored inhabitants of the poorer quarters of the town passed a miserable life.

Since the middle ages, or better still, since the time when the Mino became definitely the frontier line between Spain and Portugal, the city of Tuy has been heard of but little. Few art students visit it to-day, and yet it is one of the most picturesquely situated cities in Galicia, or even in Spain. Its cathedral, as well as the Pre-Roman, Roman, Gothic, and middle age remains,--most of them covered over with heaps of dust and earth,--are well worth a visit, being highly interesting both to artists and to archaeological students.

In short, Tuy on her hill beside the Mino, glaring across an iron bridge at Portugal, is a city rich in traditions and legends of faded hopes and past glories. Unluckily for her, cities of less historical fame are better known and more admired.

As has already been mentioned, the cathedral crowns the hill, upon the slopes of which the city descends to the river; moreover, the edifice occupies the summit only,--a _castro_, as explained in a previous chapter. Therefore, for proofs are lacking both ways, it is probable that the present building was erected on the same spot where the many basilicas which we know existed and were destroyed in one or another of the many sieges, stood in bygone days.

The present cathedral dedicated to the Virgin Mary, like that in Orense, 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!

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.

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.

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.)

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.