Chapter IX: Conclusion (4)

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.

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!

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.

The lateral doors, not situated in the transept, are located near the foot of the church. The southern portal is the larger, but the most simple; the arch which crowns it shows a decided ogival tendency, a circumstance which need not necessarily be attributed to Gothic influence, as in many churches prior to the introduction of the ogival arch the pointed top was known, and in isolated cases it was made use of, though purely by accident, and not as a constructive element.

The northern door is smaller, but a hundred times richer in sculptural design. It shows Byzantine influence in the decoration, and as a Byzantine-Romanesque portal can figure among the best in Spain.

It has been supposed that the western front of the building possessed at one time a narthex, like the cathedral Tuy, for instance. Nothing remains of it, however, as the portal which used to be here was done away with, and in its place a modern chapel with a fine Gothic _retablo_ was consecrated.

Seen from the interior, the almost similar height of the nave and aisles, leaves, as in Zamora, a somewhat stern and depressing impression on the visitor; the light which enters is also feeble, excepting beneath the _linterna_, where "the difficulty of placing a circular body on a square without the aid of supports (_pechinas_) has been so naturally and perfectly overcome that we are obliged to doubt of its ever having existed."

Gothic elements, more so than in Zamora, mix with the Romanesque traditions in the decoration of the nave and aisles; nevertheless, the elements of construction are purely Romanesque, excepting the central apsidal chapel which contains the high altar. Restored by the Fonseca family in the sixteenth century, it is ogival in conception and execution, and contains some fine tombs of the above named aristocratic family. But the chapel passes unnoticed in this peculiarly exotic building, where solidity and not grace was the object sought and obtained.

IV

SALAMANCA

The very position of Salamanca, immediately to the north of the chain of mountains which served for many a century as a rough frontier wall between Christians and Moors, was bound to ensure the city's importance and fame. Its history is consequently unique, grander and more exciting than that of any other city; the universal name it acquired in the fourteenth century, thanks to its university, can only be compared with that of Bologna, Paris, and Oxford.

Consequently its fall from past renown to present insignificance was tremendous, and to-day, a heap of ruins, boasting of traditions like Toledo and Burgos, of two cathedrals and twenty-four parish churches, of twice as many convents and palaces, of a one-time glorious university and half a hundred colleges,--Salamanca sleeps away a useless existence from which it will never awaken.

Its history has still to be penned. What an exciting and stirring account of middle age life in Spain it would be!

The Romans knew Salamantia, and the first notice handed down to us of the city reads like a fairy story, as though predicting future events.

According to Plutarch, the town was besieged by Hannibal, and had to surrender. The inhabitants were allowed to leave, unarmed, and taking away with them only their clothes; the men were searched as they passed out, but not so the women.

Together men and women left the town. A mile away they halted, and the women drew forth from beneath their robes concealed weapons. Together the men and the women returned to their town and stealthily fell upon their foes, slaughtering them in considerable numbers. Hannibal was so "enchanted" (!) with the bravery displayed by the women, that he drew away his army from the town, leaving the patriotic inhabitants to settle again their beloved Salamanca.

The Western Goths, upon their arrival in Spain, found Salamanca in a flourishing state, and respected its episcopal see, the origin of which is ignored. The first bishop we have any record of is Eleuterio, who signed the third Council of Toledo in 589.

The Arabs treated the city more harshly; it was in turn taken and destroyed by infidels and Christians; the former sacking frontier towns, the latter destroying all fortresses they could not hold.

In the eighth century no bishop seems to have existed in Salamanca; in the tenth, date of a partial reestablishment of the see, seven prelates are mentioned; these did not, however, risk their skins by taking possession of their chair, but lived quietly in the north, either in Santiago--farther north they could not go!--or else in Leon and Burgos. The eleventh century is again devoid of any ecclesiastical news connected with the see of Salamanca; what is more, the very name of the city is forgotten until Alfonso VI. crossed the Guaderrama and fixed his court in Toledo. This bold step, taken in a hostile country far from the centre of the kingdom and from his base of operations, obliged the monarch to erect with all speed a series of fortresses to the north; as a result, Salamanca, Segovia, and Avila, beyond the Guaderrama Mountains, and Madrid to the south, were quickly populated by Christians.

This occurred in 1102; the first bishop _de modernis_ was Jeronimo, a French warrior-monk, who had accompanied his bosom friend el Cid to Valencia, had fought beside him, and had been appointed bishop of the conquered see. Not for any length of time, however, for as soon as el Cid died, the Moors drove the Christians out of the new kingdom, and the bishop came to Leon with the Cristo de las Batallas,--a miraculous cross of old Byzantine workmanship, supposed to have aided the Cid in many a battle,--as the only _souvenir_ of his stay in the Valencian see.

The next four or five bishops fought among themselves. At one time the city had no fewer than two, a usurper, and another who was not much better; the Pope deprived one of his dignity, the king another, the influential Archbishop of Santiago chose a third, who was also deposed--the good old times!--until at last one Berengario was appointed, and the ignominious conflict was peacefully settled.

The inhabitants of the city at the beginning were a strong, warlike medley of Jews (these were doubtless the least warlike!), Arabs, Aragonese, Castilian, French, and Leonese. Bands of these without a commander invaded Moorish territory, sacking and pillaging where they could. On one occasion they were pursued by an Arab army, whose general asked to speak with the captain of the Salamantinos. The answer was, "Each of us is his own captain!" words that can be considered typical of the anarchy which reigned in Spain until the advent of Isabel and Ferdinand in the fifteenth century.

If the bishops fought among themselves, and if the low class people lived in a state of utter anarchy, the same spirit spread to--or emanated from--the nobility, of whom Salamanca had more than its share, especially as soon as the university was founded. The annals of no other city are so replete with family traditions and feuds, which were not only restricted to the original disputers, to their families and acquaintances, but became generalized among the inhabitants themselves, who took part in the feud. Thus it often happened that the city was divided into two camps, separated by an imaginary line, and woe betide the daring or careless individual who crossed it!

One of the most dramatic of these feuds--a savage species of vendetta--was the following:

Dona Maria Perez, a Plasencian dame of noble birth, had married one of the most powerful noblemen in Salamanca, Monroy by name, and upon the latter's death remained a widowed mother of two sons. One of them asked and obtained in marriage the hand of a noble lady who had refused a similar proposition made by one Enriquez, son of a Sevillan aristocrat. The youth's jealousy and anger was therefore bitterly aroused, and he and his brother waited for a suitable opportunity in which to avenge themselves. It soon came: they were playing Spanish ball, _pelota_, one day with the accepted suitor, when a dispute arose as to who was the better player; the two brothers fell upon their victim and foully murdered him. But afraid lest his brother should venge the latter's death, they lay in wait for him behind a street corner, and as he came along they rapidly killed him as they had his brother. Then they fled across the frontier to Portugal.

The two corpses had in the meantime been carried on a bier by the crowds and laid down in front of Dona Maria's house; the latter stepped out on the balcony, with dishevelled hair; an angry murmur went from one end of the crowd to the other, and a universal clamour arose: vengeance was on every one's lips. But Dona Maria commanded silence.

"Be calm," she said, "and take these bodies to the cathedral. Vengeance? Fear not, I shall venge myself."

An hour later she left the town with an escort, apparently with a view to retire to her estates near Plasencia. Once well away from the city, she divulged her plan to the escort and asked if they were willing to follow her. Receiving an affirmative reply, she tore off her woman's clothes and appeared dressed in full armour; placing a helmet on her head, she took the lead of her troops again, and set out for the Portuguese frontier.

The strange company arrived on the third day at a Portuguese frontier town, where they were told that two foreigners had arrived the night before. By the description of the two Spaniards, Dona Maria felt sure they were her sons' murderers, and consequently she and her escort approached the house where the fugitives were passing the night. Placing the escort beneath the window, she stealthily entered the house and stole to the brothers' room; then she slew them whilst they were sleeping, and, rushing to the window, threw it open, and, spearing the heads of her enemies on her lance, she showed them to her retinue, with the words:

"I'm venged! Back to Salamanca."

Silently, at the head of her troops, and bearing the two heads on her lance, Dona Maria returned to Salamanca. Entering the cathedral, she threw them on the newly raised slabs which covered her sons' remains.

Ever after she was known as Dona Maria _la brava_, and is as celebrated to-day as she was in the fifteenth century, during the abominable reign of Henry IV. And so great was the feud which divided the city into two camps, that it lasted many years, and many were the victims of the gigantic vendetta.

The city's greatest fame lay in its university, founded toward 1215, by Alfonso IX. of Leon, who was jealous of his cousin Alfonso VIII. of Castile, the founder of the luckless university of Palencia.

The fate of the last named university has been duly mentioned elsewhere; that of Salamanca was far different. In 1255 the Pope called it one of the four lamps of the world; strangers--students from all corners of Europe--flocked to the city to study. Perhaps its greatest merit was the study of Arabic and Arabian letters, and it has been said that the study of the Orient penetrated into Europe through Salamanca alone.

What a glorious life must have been the university city's during the apogee of her fame! Students from all European lands, dressed in the picturesque costume worn by those who attended the university, wended their way through the streets, singing and playing the guitar or the mandolin; they mingled with dusky noblemen, richly dressed in satins and silks, and wearing the rapier hanging by their sides; they flirted with the beautiful daughters of Spain, and gravely saluted the bishop when he was carried along in his chair, or rode a quiet palfrey. At one time the court was established in the university city, lending a still more brilliant lustre to the every-day life of the inhabitants, and to the sombre streets lined with palaces, churches, colleges, convents, and monasteries.

Gone! To-day the city lies beneath an immense weight of ruins of all kinds, that chain her down to the past which was her glory, and impede her from looking ahead into her future with ambitions and hopes.

The cathedrals Salamanca can boast of to-day are two, an old one and a comparatively new one; the latter was built beside the former, a praiseworthy and exceptional proceeding, for, instead of pulling down the old to make room for the new, as happens throughout the world, the cathedral chapter convocated an assembly of architects, and was intelligent enough--another wonder!--to accept the verdict that the old building, a Romanesque-Byzantine edifice of exceptional value, should not be demolished. The new temple was therefore erected beside the former, and, obeying the art impulses of the centuries which witnessed its construction, is an ogival church spoilt--or bettered--by Renaissance, plateresque, and grotesque decorative elements.

* * * * *

_The Old Cathedral._--The exact date of the erection of the old see is not known; toward 1152 it was already in construction, and 150 years later, in 1299, it was not concluded. Consequently, and more than in the case of Zamora and Toro, the upper part of the building shows decided ogival tendencies; yet in spite of these evident signs of transition, the ensemble, the spirit of the building, is, beyond a doubt, Romanesque-Byzantine, and not Gothic.

The plan of the church is the same as those of Zamora, Toro, and Coria: a nave and two aisles cut short at the transept, which is slightly prolonged beyond the width of the body of the church; there is no ambulatory walk, but to the east of the transept are three chapels in a three-lobed apse, the central lobe larger than the others and containing the high altar; the choir was placed (originally) in the centre of the nave, and a _cimborio_ crowns the _croisee_, this latter being a peculiarity of the three cathedral churches of Zamora, Toro, and Salamanca.

Unluckily, the erection of the new building as an annex of the old one required (as in Plasencia, though from different reasons) the demolition of certain parts of the latter; as, for instance, the two towers of the western front, the northern portal as well as the northern half of the apse, and the corresponding part of the transept. Parts of these have either been surrounded or replaced by the new building.

The narthex and the western end are still preserved. They are of the same width as the nave, for, beneath the towers, of which one seems to have been far higher than the other, each of the aisles terminates in a chapel. Byzantine in appearance, the two western doors are, nevertheless, crowned by an ogival arch, and flanked by statuettes of the same style. The facade, repaired and spoilt, is of Renaissance severity.

The interior of the building is more impressive than that of either Zamora or Toro; this is due to the absence of the choir,--removed to the new cathedral,--which permits an uninterrupted view of the whole church, which does not occur in any other temple throughout Spain. Romanesque strength and gloominess is clearly discernible, whereas the height of the central nave (sixty feet) is rendered stumpy in appearance by the almost equal height of the aisles. The strength and solidity of the pillars and columns, supporting capitals and friezes of a peculiar and decided Byzantine taste (animals, dragons, etc.), show more keenly than in Galicia the Oriental influence which helped so thoroughly to shape Central Spanish Romanesque.

Of the chapels, but one deserves special mention, both as seen from without and from within, namely, the high altar, or central apsidal chapel. Seen from without, it is of perfect Romanesque construction, excepting the upper row of rose windows, which are ogival in their traceries; inside, it contains a mural painting of an exceedingly primitive design, and a _retablo_ in low reliefs enchased in ogival arches; it is of Italian workmanship.

Of the remaining chapels, that of San Bartolome contains an alabaster sepulchre of the Bishop Diego de Anaya--one of the many prelates of those times who was the possessor of illegitimate sons; the bodies of most of the latter lie within this chapel, which can be regarded not only as a family pantheon, but as a symbol of ecclesiastical greatness and human weakness.

The windows which light up the nave are round-headed, and yet they are delicately decorated, as is rarely to be seen in the Romanesque type. The aisles, on the contrary, are not lit up by any windows.

Like the churches of Zamora and Toro, the whole cathedral resembles a fortress rather than a place of worship. The simplicity of the general structure, the rounded turrets buried in the walls, serving as leaning buttresses, the narrow slits in the walls instead of windows, lend an indisputable aspect of strength. The beautiful, the really beautiful lantern, situated above the _croisee_, with its turrets, its niches, its thirty odd windows, and its elegant cupola, is an architectural body that wins the admiration of all who behold it, either from within the church or from without, and which, strictly Byzantine in conception (though rendered peculiarly Spanish by the addition of certain elements which pertain rather to Gothic military art than to church architecture), is unique--to the author's knowledge--in all Europe. Less pure in style, and less Oriental in appearance than that of Zamora, it was nevertheless, created more perfect by the artistic conception of the architect, and consequently more finished or developed than those of Toro and Zamora. Without hesitation, it can claim to be one of Salamanca's chief attractions.

The thickness of the walls (ten feet!), the admirable simpleness of the vaulting, and the general aspect from the exterior, have won for the church the name of _fortis Salamantini_.

* * * * *

_The New Cathedral._--It was begun in 1513, the old temple having been judged too small, and above all too narrow for a city of the importance of Salamanca.

Over two hundred years did the building of the present edifice last; at times all work was stopped for years, no funds being at hand to pay either artists or masons.

The primitive plan of the church, as proposed by the congress of architects, was Gothic of the second period, with an octagonal apse; the lower part of the church, from the foot to the transept, was the first to be constructed.

The upper part of the apse was not begun until the year 1588, and the artist, imbued with the beauty of Herrero's Escorial, squared the apse with the evident intention of constructing turrets on the exterior angles, which would have rendered the building symmetrical: two towers on the western front, a cupola on the _croisee_, and two smaller turrets on the eastern end.

The building as it stands to-day is a perfect rectangle cut in its length by a nave (containing the choir and the high altar), and by two aisles, lower than the nave and continued in an ambulatory walk behind the high altar.

The same symmetry is visible in the lateral chapels: eight square _huecos_ on the exterior walls of the aisles, five to the west, and three to the east of the transept, and three in the extreme eastern wall of the apse.

Magnificence rather than beauty is the characteristic note of the new cathedral. The primitive part--pure ogival with but little mixture--contrasts with the eastern end, which is covered over with the most glaring grotesque decoration; most of the chapels are spoiled by the same shocking profusion of super-ornamentation; the otherwise majestic cupola, the high altar, and the choir--all suffer from the same defect.

The double triforium--one higher than the other--in the clerestory produces a most favourable impression; this is heightened by the wealth of light, which, entering by two rows of windows and by the _cimborio_, falls upon the rich decoration of friezes and capitals. The general view of the whole building is also freer than in most Spanish cathedrals, and this harmony existing in the proportions of the different parts strikes the visitor more favourably, perhaps, than in the severer cathedral at Burgos.

The exterior of the building reflects more truthfully than the interior the different art waves which spread over Spain during the centuries of the temple's erection. In the western front, the rich Gothic portal of the third period, the richest perhaps in sculptural variety of any on the peninsula, contrasts with the high mongrel tower, a true example of the composite towers so frequently met with in certain Spanish regions. The second body of the same facade (western) is highly interesting, not on account of its ornamentation, which is simple, but because of the solid, frank structure, and the curious fortress-like turrets embedded in the angles.

The flank of the building, seen from the north--for on the south side stand the ruins of the old cathedral--is none too homogeneous, thanks to the different styles in which the three piers of windows--of chapels, aisles, and clerestory--have been constructed. The ensemble is picturesque, nevertheless: the three rows of windows, surmounted by the huge cupola and half-lost among the buttresses, certainly contribute toward the general elegance of the granite structure.

V

CIUDAD RODRIGO

In the times of the Romans, the country to the west of Salamanca seems to have been thickly populated. Calabria, situated between the Agueda and Coa Rivers, was an episcopal see; in its vicinity Augustabriga and Mirobriga were two other important towns.

Of these three Roman fortresses, and perhaps native towns, before the invasion, not as much as a stone or a legend remains to relate the tale of their existence and death.

Toward 1150, Fernando II. of Castile, obeying the military requirements of the Reconquest, and at the same time wishing to erect a fortress-town, which, together with Zamora to the north, Salamanca to the west, and Coria to the south, could resist the invasion of Spain by Portuguese armies, founded Ciudad Rodrigo, and twenty years later raised the church to an episcopal see, a practical means of attracting God-fearing settlers. Consequently, the twelfth-century town, inheriting the ecclesiastical dignity of Calabria, if the latter ever possessed it, besides being situated in the same region as the three Roman cities previously mentioned, can claim to have been born a city.

One of the early bishops (the first was a certain Domingo) was the famous Pedro Diaz, about whom a legend has been handed down to us. This legend has also been graphically illustrated by an artist of the sixteenth century; his painting is to be seen to the right of the northern transept door in the cathedral.

Pedro Diaz seems to have been a worldly priest, "fond of the sins of the flesh and of good eating," who fell ill in the third year of his reign. His secretary, a pious servant of the Lord, dreamt he saw his master's soul devoured by demons, and persuaded him to confess his sins. It was too late, for a few days later he died; his death was, however, kept a secret by his menials, who wished to have plenty of time to make a generous division of his fortune. When all had been settled to their liking, the funeral procession moved through the streets of the city, and, to the surprise of all, the dead bishop, resurrected by St. Francis of Assisi, at the time in Ciudad Rodrigo, opened the coffin and stood upon the hearse. He accused his servants of their greed, and at the same time made certain revelations concerning the life hereafter. His experiences must have been rather pessimistic, to judge by the bishop's later deeds, for, having been granted a respite of twenty days upon this earth, he "fasted and made penitence," doubtless eager to escape a second time the tortures of the other world.

Other traditions concerning the lives and doings of the noblemen who disputed the feudal right or _senorio_ over the town, are as numerous as in Plasencia, with which city Ciudad Rodrigo has certain historical affinities. The story of the Virgen Coronada, who, though poor, did not hesitate in killing a powerful and wealthy libertine nobleman whom she was serving; the no less stirring account of Dona Maria Adan's vow that she would give her fair daughter's hand to whomsoever venged her wrongs on the five sons of her husband's murderer, are among the most tragic and thrilling. There are many other traditions beside, which constitute the past's legacy to the solitary city near the Portuguese frontier.

It was in the nineteenth century that Ciudad Rodrigo earned fame as a brave city. The Spanish war for independence had broken out against the French, who overran the country, and passed from Bayonne in the Gascogne to Lisbon in Portugal. Ciudad Rodrigo lay on the shortest route for the French army, and had to suffer two sieges, one in 1810 and the second in 1812. In the latter, Wellington was the commander of the English forces who had come to help the Spanish chase the French out of the peninsula; the siege of the town and the battle which ensued were long and terrible, but at last the allied English and Spanish won, with the loss of two English generals. The Iron Duke was rewarded by Spanish Cortes, with the title of Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo, together with the honours of grandee of Spain, which are still retained by Wellington's descendants.

The cathedral church of Ciudad Rodrigo is a twelfth-century building, in which the Romanesque style, similar to those of Zamora and Toro, fights with the nascent ogival style. Notwithstanding these remarks, however, the building does not pertain to the Transition period, but rather to the second or last period of Spanish Romanesque. This is easily seen by the basilica form of the church, the three-lobed apse, the lack of an ambulatory walk, and the apparently similar height of nave and aisles.

The square tower, surmounted by a cupola, at the foot of the church, as well as the entire western front, dates from the eighteenth century; it is cold, anti-artistic, utterly unable to appeal to the poetic instincts of the spectator.

Behind the western front, and leading directly into the body of the church, is a delightful Romanesque narthex which doubtlessly served as the western facade prior to the eighteenth-century additions. It is separated from the principal nave by a door divided into two by a solid pediment, upon which is encrusted a statue of the Virgin with Child in her arms. The semicircular arches which surmount the door are finely executed, and the columns which support them are decorated with handsome twelfth-century statuettes. There is a great similarity between this portal and the principal one (del Obispo) in Toro: it almost seems as though the same hand had chiselled both, or at least traced the plan of their decoration.

Of the two doors which lead, one on the south and the other on the north, into the transept, the former is perhaps the more perfect specimen of the primitive style. Both are richly decorated; unluckily, in both portals, the rounded arches have been crowned in more recent times by an ogival arch, which certainly mars the pureness of the style, though not the harmony of the ensemble.

To the left of these doors, a niche has been carved into the wall to contain a full-length statue of the Virgin; this is an unusual arrangement in Spanish churches.

The exterior of the apse retains its primitive _cachet_; the central chapel, where the high altar is placed, was, however, rebuilt in the sixteenth century by Tavera, the Cardinal-Archbishop of Toledo, who had at one time occupied the see of Ciudad Rodrigo. It is a peculiar mixture of Gothic and Romanesque, of pointed windows and heavy buttresses; the flat roof is decorated by means of a low stone railing or balustrade composed of elegantly carved pinnacles.