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Title: Toledo
Author: Calvert, Albert Frederick
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Toledo" ***
THE SPANISH SERIES
TOLEDO
THE SPANISH SERIES
_EDITED BY ALBERT F. CALVERT_
GOYA
TOLEDO
MADRID
SEVILLE
MURILLO
CORDOVA
VELAZQUEZ
THE PRADO
THE ESCORIAL
ROYAL PALACES OF SPAIN
GRANADA AND ALHAMBRA
SPANISH ARMS AND ARMOUR
LEON, BURGOS & SALAMANCA
VALLADOLID, OVIEDO, SEGOVIA,
ZAMORA, AVILA & ZARAGOZA
TOLEDO
AN HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE
ACCOUNT OF
THE “CITY OF GENERATIONS,”
BY ALBERT F. CALVERT, WITH
OVER 500 ILLUSTRATIONS
LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMVII
Printed by BALLANTYNE & CO. LIMITED
Tavistock Street, London
TO
S.A. INFANTA MARIA TERESA
IN WHOSE SYMPATHY
THE ANCIENT GRANDEUR IS LINKED WITH
THE FUTURE GREATNESS OF SPAIN
THIS VOLUME
WITH AN ASSURANCE OF SINCERE ESTEEM
IS DEDICATED
PREFACE
The author would, in the ordinary way, be hard put to it to frame a
reasonable apology for compiling a new volume on the subject of the
ancient and royal city of Toledo. Artists have reproduced its wonder of
imposing and picturesque detail; archæologists have explored its many
monuments; historians have discovered in its archives a record which,
for many centuries, represents the log-book of Spain. There is no
secret, apart from the impenetrable mystery of its origin, which has not
been revealed; its chronicle is a well-thumbed volume. The beginnings of
Spanish history go no further back than the earliest references we have
to the natural stronghold founded on the seven rocks on the banks of the
Tagus, and Spanish tradition claims for the citadel an antiquity coeval
with the sun and stars. Both the history and the legends have been
transcribed in many languages, yet, in a series which is intended to
embrace all Spain in its compendious design, the inclusion of the
twice-told tale of the “city of generations” carries with it an
unquestionable justification.
The ambition of the author has not been to throw fresh light on a
well-worn subject, nor to supplement the work of earlier and more
erudite writers with new facts or theories, but simply, as in the case
of the earlier volumes in this series, to equip the illustrations with a
brief, explanatory text. It would be futile to attempt to even outline
the story of Toledo in some hundred and fifty pages of letterpress, but
I hope it may be found that in this limited space sufficient detail has
been given to convey to the reader a general idea of the changing
fortunes and unchanging character of the city, which Padilla has
described as “the crown of Spain, the light of the world, free from the
time of the mighty Goths.”
The impression of grandeur and melancholy, of strength and silence,
which the traveller receives from a visit to the one-time capital of the
Peninsula, cannot be suggested by the written word, but it may be that
the illustrations will recall, if they do not suggest, the feeling which
the city inspires. Toledo is mediæval in its architecture and its
atmosphere. The Moorish occupation has left no more than a scratch upon
its Gothic character; the spirit of modernity has been defied by its
virile antiquity. But the Moslem remains have been made a feature of the
illustrations, and, as in the volumes devoted to Seville, Cordova, and
Granada in this series, the intricacies of Arabian decoration have been
extensively reproduced.
Many of the plates are included here by the courtesy of Messrs.
Alguacil, Rafael Garzon, Hauser and Menet, and Moreno, and to these
gentlemen I tender my sincere thanks for the permission accorded me to
reproduce them. I have also to acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. E. B.
d’Auvergne for the assistance rendered by him in the compilation, and to
Messrs. Martin and Gamoneda for their kindness in allowing me to make
use of the matter and illustrations contained in the volume on _Toledo_
which they have published in the new series of the _Monumentos
Arquitectónicos de España_.
I venture to hope that no apology is needed for including the chapter on
El Greco, and the selection of his pictures, which appear in this
volume. A separate book, devoted entirely to this subject, which will be
issued in this series, cannot be ready for some time, and as so little
has been written about Domeniko Theotokopouli, and so few of his
pictures have been reproduced, I have decided to incorporate these brief
notes concerning the Cretan painter, whose association with Toledo
extended over a period of nearly forty years.
A. F. C.
“ROYSTON,”
SWISS COTTAGE,
N.W.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE CHILDHOOD OF THE CITY 1
THE CITY UNDER THE VISIGOTHS 8
TOLEDO UNDER THE MOOR 29
TOLEDO THE CAPITAL OF CASTILE 59
BUILDINGS OF THE CASTILIAN PERIOD 83
THE CATHEDRAL 101
THE DECLINE OF THE CITY 130
EL GRECO 147
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
TITLE PLATE
Toledo. (_Specially drawn for The Spanish Series_) 1
General View of Toledo from the South-east 2
View of Toledo from the South-east 3
General View of Toledo 4
View of Toledo from the Campo del Rey 5
General View of Toledo 6
State of the Ruins of the Circo Maximo in the Year
1848, according to the “Album Artistico” 7
The River Tagus 8
Bridge of Alcantara 9
Perspective of St. Martin’s Bridge and the Direction
of the Fortified Lines 10
Perspective View of the Site of the Aqueduct 11
Environs of Toledo 12
Plaza de Zocodover 13
The Town Hall 14
The Market-place 15
The Market-place 16
A Street in Toledo 17
A Street in Toledo 18
A Street in Toledo 19
A Street in Toledo 20
A Street in Toledo 21
A Street in Toledo 22
A Street in Toledo 23
A Street in Toledo 24
Visagra Gate 25
A Street in Toledo 26
A Street in Toledo 27
Bridge of Alcantara 28
Alcantara Gate 29
Alcantara Portal and Bridge 29
Exterior of the Northern City Walls 30
Fortifications of the old Bridge of Boats, replaced by
the Bridge of St. Martin 31
Remains of the City Walls of “Al-Hizém,” from the
Gate of the Doce Cantos to the Plaza de Armas of
the Bridge of Alcantara 32
Remains of the City Walls, south-west, rebuilt at the
Time of the Reconquest 33
Remains of the Roman Ramparts of the first Enclosure
of the City 34
Remains of the Roman Ramparts of the first Enclosure
of the City. (Plaza de Armas of the Bridge of
Alcantara) 35
Visigoth Capital transformed into a Fountain Basin.
(No. 9, Callejon de la Lamparilla) 35
Principal Entrance to the House of the Baths of Aben-Ya-Yix
Bajada al Colegio del Infantes 36
Sepulchral Arch of the Infante don Fernando Perez
in the Belen Chapel in the Convent of the Comendadora
de Santiago 36
Ruins of Polan Castle. Fourteenth Century 37
Guadamar Castle 38
Remains of the Roman Ramparts of the first Enclosure
of the City 39
The Exterior Walls 40
Remains of the Fortifications in the Jewish Suburb 40
Gate of the “Almofala” (Bib-al-Mojadha) rebuilt in
the Fourteenth Century 41
“The Abbot’s Tower” in the Northern Walls 41
Ruins of the Aquaria Tower, commonly called “Horno
del Vidrio” 42
Remains of the Aqueduct (left bank of the river) 43
Remains of the Aqueduct (right bank of the river) 43
Remains of the Roman Construction in the Tower of
the Plaza de Armas of the Bridge of Alcantara 44
Bridge of Alcantara 45
East Side of the Bridge of Alcantara 46
Posterior Façade of the defensive Tower of the Bridge
of Alcantara 47
Defensive Tower of the Bridge of Alcantara. Anterior
Façade 48
Alcantara Gate 49
Commemorative Inscription in the Avenue of the
Defensive Tower of the Bridge of Alcantara 50
Coat-of-Arms of the Catholic Sovereigns in front of
the Defensive Tower of the Bridge of Alcantara 51
“The Khalif’s Capitals” at No. 13 Calle del Coliseo 51
Perspective of the Bridge of Alcantara 52
St. Martin’s Bridge 53
St. Martin’s Bridge 54
Façade of Santa Cruz 54
Defensive Towers at the Entrance of St. Martin’s
Bridge and the Town 55
Restored Posterior Façade of the Arch de La Sangre 55
Remains of the Aqueduct (right bank) 56
East Side of St. Martin’s Bridge 57
Defensive Tower of St. Martin’s Bridge. Façade seen
from the Bridge 58
Defensive Tower of St. Martin’s Bridge. Façade seen
from the Highway 58
Malbardón Gate. Eleventh Century 59
Visagra Gate 60
Upper Part of the Visagra Gate. Built in 1550 61
Tower in the City Walls of “The Suburb of San Isidoro,”
near the new Visagra Gate 62
Hydraulic Machine and Remains of the Walls in the
Quarter of the Curtidores, near the River 63
Walls of the Suburb of San Isidore 63
Ancient Visagra Gate 64
Ancient Visagra Gate. The Side which joins the Wall
and the side Defensive Tower 65
Ancient Visagra Gate. Defensive and Side Tower 66
Ancient Visagra Gate. Remains of the Eastern Façade 67
Detail of the Principal Façade of the old Visagra Gate 68
Interior of the old Visagra Gate 68
Ancient Visagra Gate 69
The Tower called “Puerta Baja de la Herreria,” now
“Gate of the Sun” 70
Castle of San Servando 71
Castle of San Servando. Ancient Entrance in the West
Façade 72
Castle of San Servando. South-east Angle 72
Door of the Castle in San Servando 73
Gate of Valmadron 74
Gate of Cambrón 75
Los Baños de Florinda de Cava 76
Entrance to Los Baños 77
Ruins of the Tower called “Los Baños de Florinda
de Cava” 78
Details of the Convent of Santa Fe. Eleventh Century 79
West Portal in the old Hermitage, now the Inn of Santa
Ana, on the Sisla road 80
Altar-piece of San Justo 81
Detail of the Church of San Justo. Fifteenth Century 82
Detail of the Chapel of Santos Justo and Pastor 83
Effigies of Juan Guas, architect of San Juan de Los
Reyes, and of his son. Chapel of Christ at the
Column, in the Parish Church of San Justo 84
Effigies of Mari Alvares, wife of Juan Guas, and of her
Daughter. Chapel of Christ at the Column, in
the Parish Church of San Justo 85
Mosque of the Tornerias. Exterior of the South Façade,
South-west Angle 86
Interior of the Mosque de las Tornerias 87
Arch of the “Kibláh” in the Mosque de las Tornerias 88
Mosque of the Tornerias. Trefoil Arched Window 89
Mosque of the Tornerias. Horse-shoe Window 89
Mosque of the Tornerias. Arched Window 90
Mosque of the Tornerias. Rectangular Window 90
Mosque de las Tornerias 91
Mosque of the Tornerias, built over Roman Remains 92
Supposed Elevation of the Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm 93
Supposed Plan of the Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm 94
Actual Situation of the North-east Façade of the
Ancient Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm, a Transept
and _Mudejar_ Apsis of the Hermitage of Santo
Cristo de la Luz 95
The Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm, Horse-shoe Arch and
Remains of the Dado and Little Arches and Windows
in the North-east Façade (right side) 96
The Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm, Horse-shoe Arch and
Remains of the Dado of Little Arches and Windows
in the North-east Façade (left side) 97
Principal Nave in the Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm 98
Arch in the Southern Interior of the Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm 99
Actual Entrance to the Castle 99
Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm. Arch in the Interior Wall,
South-west Angle 100
Detail of the North-west Façade of the Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm 100
Bib-al-Mardóm. “Arch of the Cross,” Interior Façade 101
Bib-al-Mardóm. “Arch of the Cross,” Exterior Façade 101
Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm 102
North-west Façade of the Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm
(Hermitage of Santo Cristo de la Luz), discovered
in February 1899 103
The Epigraphic Medallion on the North-west Façade of
the Mosque of Bib-al-Mardóm (Hermitage of
Santo Cristo de la Luz), rebuilt in the year 370
after the Hegira (A.D. 980) 104
Visigoth Capital in the old Moorish Parish Church of San
Sebastian 105
Visigoth Base which serves as a Capital in the old
Moorish Parish Church of San Sebastian 105
Santo Cristo de la Luz 106
The Hermitage of Santo Cristo de la Luz 107
Wall-Paintings of Santo Cristo de la Luz 108
Church of Santo Cristo de la Luz 109
Wall-Paintings of Santo Cristo de la Luz 110
Ancient Mosque, now the Hermitage of Santo Cristo
de la Luz 111
Exterior of the Hermitage of Santo Cristo de la Luz,
and Towers of various Churches 112
Detail of the Transito (Synagogue), built in 1360 at the
expense of Samuel Levi 113
Details of the Interior Decoration of the Church of the
Transito (Ancient Synagogue) 114
Details of the Interior Decoration of the Church of the
Transito (Ancient Synagogue) 115
Details of the Transito (Synagogue) 116
Details of the Transito (Synagogue) 117
Details of the Transito (Synagogue) 118
Entrance Arch in the Building called Taller Del Moro 119
Detail of Decoration in the Moorish Workshop 120
Details of the Palace of the Ayalas 121
Details of the Palace of the Ayalas 122
Exterior of the Chapel of Santo Cristo de la Vega 123
Door and Exterior of Santa Maria la Blanca 124
Sections and Details of the Ancient Synagogue, now the
Church of Santa Maria la Blanca 125
Part of the Longitudinal Section of the Ancient Synagogue,
now the Church of Santa Maria la Blanca 126
Interior of Santa Maria la Blanca 127
Interior of Santa Maria la Blanca 128
Interior of Santa Maria la Blanca 129
Cárcel de Santa Hermandad 130
A Gothic Doorway 131
A Doorway 132
St. Michael’s Tower. Fourteenth Century 133
House of the Toledos 134
Details of a Courtyard 135
Details of a Courtyard 136
Details of a Courtyard 137
Details of a Courtyard 138
Details of a Courtyard 139
The Fountain of Calerahigo 140
Arab Details 141
Visigoth Crowns and Crosses of Guarrazar 142
Visigoth Crowns and Crosses of Guarrazar 143
Visigoth Crowns and Crosses found at Toledo and now
in the Royal Armoury at Madrid 144
San Pedro Martin 145
Calle de Santo Tomé 145
Alcazar Royal Palace. Reproduction of the Engraving
made in 1566 for Braun’s “Civitates Orbi Terrarum” 146
Perspective of the Alcazar in 1845. East and North
Façades. Reproduction of an Engraving in the
Work “Toledo Pintoresca” 147
The Alcazar. Taken from the Plaza de Zocodover 148
South Façade of the Alcazar 149
The Alcazar. West Façade after the latest Restoration 150
The Alcazar 151
Alcazar. Principal Façade on the North 152
The Alcazar. East Façade, after the latest Restoration 153
General View of the Alcazar 154
The Alcazar. The Principal Staircase 155
The Alcazar. Principal North Portal 156
The Alcazar. Court and Plan 157
Court of the Alcazar 158
Court in the Alcazar. After the latest Restoration 159
The Alcazar. Plan and Details. North Façade 160
Details of the North Façade of the Alcazar 161
Door of the Hall of the House of the Mesa (the Table) 162
Details of the House of the Mesa 163
Details of the House of the Mesa 164
Details of the House of the Mesa 165
Details of the Hall of the House of the Mesa 166
Details of the Hall of the House of the Mesa 167
Details of the Hall of the House of the Mesa 168
Details of the House of the Mesa 169
Doorway of the College of the Infantes. Sixteenth
Century 170
Doorway of the Palace of the Martinez 171
Roman Tower of San Juan de los Reyes 172
Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 172
Exterior of San Juan de los Reyes 173
San Juan de los Reyes 174
Plan of the Church and Processional Cloister of San
Juan de los Reyes 175
Doorway in San Juan de los Reyes 176
Gothic Doorway in San Juan de los Reyes 177
Exterior of the Arch of San Juan de los Reyes 178
Interior of San Juan de los Reyes 179
Interior of San Juan de los Reyes 180
Interior of San Juan de los Reyes 181
Longitudinal Section of the Church of San Juan de los
Reyes 182
Interior, San Juan de los Reyes 183
Retablo, San Juan de los Reyes 183
Gallery in San Juan de los Reyes 184
Gallery in San Juan de los Reyes 185
Details of San Juan de los Reyes 186
Details of Gallery in San Juan de los Reyes 187
Details of San Juan de los Reyes 188
San Juan de los Reyes. Wall in the Presbytery 189
Interior of San Juan de los Reyes 190
Interior of San Juan de los Reyes 191
Interior of San Juan de los Reyes 192
San Juan de los Reyes. Decoration in the Transverse
Nave 193
San Juan de los Reyes. Details of the Arms of Isabella
the Catholic 194
Details of the Transept of the Church of San Juan de
los Reyes 195
San Juan de los Reyes. Interior 196
A Dome in San Juan de los Reyes 197
Remains of Windows of San Juan de los Reyes 198
Details of the Cross-Aisle in the Church of San Juan
de los Reyes 199
Altar of San Juan de los Reyes 200
Altar of San Juan de los Reyes 200
Details of the Altar-piece in San Juan de los Reyes 201
Copy of the original Drawing of the Arch and Cross-Aisle
of San Juan de los Reyes 202
Longitudinal Section of the Cloister of San Juan de los
Reyes 203
Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 204
San Juan de los Reyes. The Cloisters 205
Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 206
Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 207
Details of the Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 208
Compartment of the Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 209
San Juan de los Reyes. Details of the Cloisters 210
Details of the Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 211
San Juan de los Reyes. Details of the Cloisters 212
San Juan de los Reyes. Details of the Cloisters 213
San Juan de los Reyes. Details of the Cloisters 214
San Juan de los Reyes. Details of the Cloisters 215
Church of San Juan de los Reyes. Courtyard 216
Court in San Juan de los Reyes 217
Doorway of the Museum of San Juan de los Reyes 218
San Juan de los Reyes. Details above Door of Museum 219
Palace of Don Pedro the Cruel 220
Details of the Palace of Don Pedro the Cruel 221
Façade of the Palace of Don Pedro the Cruel 222
Doorway of the Palace of Don Pedro the Cruel 223
Doorway of the Palace of Don Pedro the Cruel 224
The Cathedral 225
General View of the Cathedral 226
The Cathedral 227
Section of the Cathedral 228
Longitudinal Section of the Cathedral 229
Transverse Section of the Cathedral 230
Principal Façade of the Cathedral and Tower 231
The Cathedral. Detail of the Exterior 232
The Cathedral. Portal of the Principal Façade 233
The Cathedral. Principal Gate 234
The Cathedral. The Gate of the Lions 235
The Cathedral. Porch of the Principal Façade 236
The Cathedral. The Lion Door 237
The Cathedral. The Lion Door 237
Door of the Cathedral 238
The Cathedral. Door of the Lost Child 239
The Cathedral. Details of the Puerta de la Feria 240
The Cathedral. Gate of the Conception 241
The Cathedral. Ornamental Details of the Gates 242
The Cathedral. Central Nave 243
The Cathedral. Tomb of Alonso de Carrillo 243
The Cathedral. General View of the Interior 244
The Cathedral. General View of the Interior 245
The Cathedral. Interior 246
The Cathedral. Interior 247
Windows in the Principal Nave of the Cathedral 248
The Cathedral. Grating of the Principal Chapel.
Sixteenth Century 249
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Principal Chapel 250
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Principal Chapel 251
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Principal Chapel 252
The Cathedral. Details of the Principal Chapel 253
The Cathedral. Details of the Principal Chapel 254
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Principal Chapel 255
The Cathedral. Details of the Principal Chapel 256
The Cathedral. Details of the Principal Chapel 257
The Cathedral. Altar-piece of the Principal Chapel 258
The Cathedral. Detail of the Altar-piece of the Principal
Chapel 259
The Cathedral. Exterior of the High Altar 260
The Cathedral. Exterior of the High Altar 261
The Cathedral. Exterior of the High Altar 262
The Cathedral. Details of the Altar-piece 263
The Cathedral. Frontal of the High Altar. Fifteenth
Century 264
The Cathedral. Frontal of the High Altar. Fifteenth
Century 265
The Cathedral. Detail of the Frontal of the High
Altar 266
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Principal Chapel 267
The Cathedral. Sepulchre of Cardinal Mendoza in the
Principal Chapel 268
The Cathedral. Dome of the Principal Chapel 269
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Choir 270
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Choir 271
The Cathedral. Details of the Exterior of the Choir 272
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Choir 273
The Cathedral. Choir Stalls 274
The Cathedral. Choir Stalls 275
The Cathedral. Choir Stalls 276
The Cathedral. Details of the Choir Stalls, representing
the Re-conquest of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 277
The Cathedral. Interior of the Choir 278
The Cathedral. Details of the Choir 279
The Cathedral. Details of the Choir 280
The Cathedral. The Archbishop’s Throne, representing
the Transfiguration. By Berruguete 281
The Cathedral. Virgin of the Laneros 282
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 283
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 284
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 285
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 286
The Cathedral. Detail of Choir Stalls. The Capture
of Alhama by Ferdinand and Isabella, 1482. Re-conquest
of Granada 287
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 288
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 289
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 290
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 291
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 292
The Cathedral. Detail of the Choir Stalls. Re-conquest
of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella 293
The Cathedral. Upper part of the Choir Stalls, carved
by Berruguete and Borgoña. Sixteenth Century 294
The Cathedral. Upper part of the Choir Stalls, carved
by Berruguete and Borgoña. Sixteenth Century 295
The Cathedral. Upper part of the Choir Stalls, carved
by Berruguete and Borgoña. Sixteenth Century 296
The Cathedral. Upper part of the Choir Stalls, carved
by Berruguete and Borgoña. Sixteenth Century 297
The Cathedral. Upper part of the Choir Stalls, carved
by Berruguete and Borgoña. Sixteenth Century 298
The Cathedral. Upper part of the Choir Stalls, carved
by Berruguete and Borgoña. Sixteenth Century 299
The Cathedral. Upper part of the Choir Stalls, carved
by Berruguete and Borgoña. Sixteenth Century 300
The Cathedral. Masonry in the Choir 301
The Cathedral. Exterior of the Presbytery 302
The Cathedral. Interior of the Chapel of the New
Kings with the Sepulchres of Don Henry the
Bastard and his Wife 303
The Cathedral. Sepulchres of Don Henry the Bastard
and his Wife in the Chapel of the New Kings 304
The Cathedral. Sepulchre of Cardinal Tavera in the
Chapel of the New Kings 305
The Cathedral. Sepulchre of Don Juan I. in the Chapel
of the New Kings 306
The Cathedral. Sepulchre of Doña Leonor, Wife of Don
Juan I., in the Chapel of the New Kings 307
The Cathedral. Chapel of the Descent of the Virgin 308
The Cathedral. Muzarabic Chapel 309
The Cathedral. Details of the Chapel of the Virgen
de la Antigua 310
The Cathedral. Chapel of the Virgen de la Antigua.
Fourteenth Century 311
The Cathedral. Doorway of the Chapel of the Canons 312
Altar-piece of Santa Isabel 313
Altar-piece of Santa Catalina 313
Altar-piece of Santa Catalina 314
Altar-piece of Santa Catalina 315
Altar-piece of Santa Catalina 316
Chapel of Santa Catalina. Founded by the Counts of
Cedillo 317
The Cathedral. Chapel of Santiago, containing the
Sepulchres of Don Alvaro de Luna and that of his
Wife Doña Juana. Fifteenth Century 318
The Cathedral. Sepulchre of Don Juan de Zerezuela in
the Chapel of Santiago. Fifteenth Century 319
Cupola of the Chapel “de los Reyes Nuevos” in the
Cathedral 320
Cupola of the “Capilla de Santiago,” called “De Don
Alvaro de Luna” in the Cathedral 320
The Cathedral. Sepulchre of Don Gil Carrillo de Albornoz
in the Chapel of San Ildefonso 321
The Cathedral. Sepulchre of Gil de Albornoz in the
Chapel of San Ildefonso 322
The Cathedral. Entrance to the Chapter Room. Sixteenth
Century 323
The Cathedral. Chapter Room 324
The Cathedral. Various Portraits of Cardinals 325
The Cathedral. Various Portraits of Cardinals 326
The Cathedral. Details in the Chapter Room 327
The Cathedral. Chapter Room 328
The Cathedral. Doorway of the Chapter Room 329
The Cathedral. Detail of a Doorway in the Chapter
Room 330
The Cathedral. Cupboard made by Gregorio Pardo
(1549-1551), for the Antechamber of the Chapter
House 331
Cupboard in the Cathedral 332
The Cathedral. A Rich and Gossamer-carved Ceiling
in the Chapter Hall. Sixteenth Century 333
The Cathedral. Ceiling in the Chapter Hall 334
The Cathedral. A Ceiling in the Ante-room 335
The Cathedral Cloisters 336
The Cathedral Cloisters 337
Presentation Portal in the Cloister of the Cathedral 338
Exterior, by the Cloisters of the Chapel, of the Place of
Sepulchre built by Henry II. for his Tomb 339
The Cathedral. Picture by Bayeu in the Cloisters 340
Portal of St. Catherine in the Cloister of the Cathedral 341
The Cathedral. Details of the Gate of the Presentation
in the Cloister 342
The Cathedral. Reliquary of San Sebastian in the
Octavo 343
The Cathedral. Detail of the Reliquary of San Sebastian
in the Octavo 344
The Cathedral. A Byzantine Reliquary 345
Sepulchres in the Cathedral 346
Sculpture in the Cathedral 347
The Cathedral. Bronze Lectern and Books of the
Holy Office 348
The Cathedral. A Bronze Pulpit 349
The Cathedral. Detail of a Pulpit 350
Pulpit in the Cathedral 351
Cathedral Bells which Ring when the Host is Elevated 352
The Cathedral. Statue of Don Juan II. Sixteenth
Century 353
The Cathedral. St. Francis of Assisi 354
The Cathedral. A Picture by Bayeu 355
Details in the Cathedral 356
The Cathedral. Cover of a Missal 357
The Cathedral. Silver Salver, “The Abduction of the
Sabine Women,” by Benvenuto Cellini 358
The Cathedral. Chalice and Paten 359
The Cathedral. A Ship that belonged to Queen Juana
la Loca 360
Monstrance in the Cathedral 361
The Cathedral. Sword of Alfonso VI. 362
The Cathedral. The Adoration of the Kings (silk) 363
The Cathedral. The Veil of Santa Leocadia (silk) 364
The Cathedral. The Assumption (silk) 365
The Cathedral. The Beheading of San Eugenio (silk) 366
Kufic Entablature in the Cathedral 367
The Cathedral. A Dalmatic embroidered in Gold and
Silk. Sixteenth Century 368
The Cathedral. A Chasuble embroidered in Gold and
Silk. Sixteenth Century 369
The Cathedral. Details of the Puerta del Reloj 370
The Cathedral. Details of the Puerta del Reloj 371
The Cathedral. Details of the Puerta del Reloj 372
The Cathedral. Details of the Puerta del Reloj 373
Effigies of Juan Guas (architect of San Juan de los
Reyes), his Wife, and Children 374
Sculpture in San Andrés 375
Banner of the Salado 376
St. Peter Natano and St. Theresa sculptured in Wood 377
Plan of the Santa Iglesia Primada 378
Santa Isabel. Side Altar-piece 379
Santa Isabel. Detail of an Altar-piece 380
Parish Church of Santiago 381
Exterior of Santiago del Arrabal. Thirteenth Century 382
Pulpit in the Church of Santiago del Arrabal, from
which San Vicente de Ferrer preached against the
Jews 383
Parochial Church of Santiago del Arrabal 384
Church of San Tomé 385
Detail of an Altar-piece in the Church of the Trinity 386
Sepulchres in the Church of St. Peter the Martyr 387
Details of a Sepulchre in the Church of St. Peter the
Martyr 388
Church of St. Peter the Martyr. Statue of a Kneeling
Canon 389
Chapel in San Juan de la Penitencia 390
Chapel in San Juan de la Penitencia 391
Details of San Juan de la Penitencia 392
Sepulchre in San Juan de la Penitencia 393
Sepulchre in San Juan de la Penitencia 394
Detail of the Convent of San Juan de la Penitencia 395
Details of the Convent of San Juan de la Penitencia 396
Convent of Santo Domingo 397
Convent of Santo Domingo 398
Convent of Santo Domingo 399
Ancient Sepulchre in the Convent of Santo Domingo 400
Santo Domingo el Real. Principal Altar-piece 401
Doorway of the Convent of San Antonio 402
Porch of the Church and Convent of San Clemente 403
Porch of the Church and Convent of San Clemente 404
Detail of the Interior of the Convent of San Clemente 405
Portal of Santa Cruz 406
Portal of Santa Cruz 407
Porch of Santa Cruz 408
The Hospital of Santa Cruz 408
Court of Santa Cruz 409
Courtyard of the Hospital 410
Court of Santa Cruz 411
Court of Santa Cruz 412
Detail of the Portal of the Hospital of Santa Cruz 413
Details of Santa Cruz 414
Hospital of Santa Cruz 415
Portals in the Vestibule of the Ancient Hospital of
Santa Cruz 416
Hospital of Santa Cruz. Portrait of the Founder,
Cardinal Mendoza 417
Hospital de Afuera. The Court 418
Hospital de Afuera 419
Hospital of St. John Baptist 420
Hospital de Afuera. Sepulchre of Cardinal Tavera,
1557, Alonzo Berruguete 421
The University 422
The University 422
Details of the House of Munárriz 423
Gate of Al Mardóm 424
Altar of the Church of San Justo 424
Portal of the Archbishop’s Palace 425
In the Town Hall 425
Cloisters of San Juan de los Reyes 426
View of St. Martin’s Bridge, looking down the River 426
Gallery of San Juan de los Reyes 427
A Moorish Workshop 427
Hotel Castilla 428
Detail of the Courtyard of the Hotel Castilla 429
Visigoth Capitals in the Church of San Sebastian 430
National Archæological Museum. Capital, Fourth
Century after the Hegira 431
National Archæological Museum. Capital of Santiago
de los Caballeros near the Alcazar. Fourth
Century after the Hegira 431
Capital in the Archæological Museum 432
National Archæological Museum. Fragment of Dado
found near the Basilica of Santa Leocadia 433
National Archæological Museum. Window of San Ginés 433
National Archæological Museum. Decorative Table in
White Marble, belonging to the Aljama Mosque of
Toledo 434
National Archæological Museum. Decorative Fragment
found at the “Miradero.” Carved in White
Marble 434
Capital in the South-west Angle, belonging to the old
Mosque, now the Hermitage of Santo Cristo de la
Luz 435
The Fifth of the Visigoth Capitals of the Hospital of
Santa Cruz 435
National Archæological Museum. Skylight or Ornament
found at Toledo 436
Visigoth Capital in the Provincial Museum 436
Architectural Fragments of the Visigoth Period in the
Parish Church of San Román 437
Architectural Pieces of the Visigoth Period existing in
the City 438
Architectural Fragments of the Visigoth Period 439
Capital of the South-east Angle belonging to the ancient
Mosque, now the Hermitage of Santo Cristo de la Luz 440
Visigoth Capital of the old Parish Church of San Sebastian 440
National Archæological Museum. Visigoth Capitals of
the Church of Santa Eulalia. Fragment of the
Dado of the Basilica of Santo Leocadia 441
Capitals in the Archæological Museum 442
Provincial Museum. Capital of the Fourth Century
after the Hegira 443
National Archæological Museum. Arab Astrolabe
made at Toledo in the year 459 after the Hegira
(A.D. 1067) 443
Architectural Fragments of the Visigoth Period 444
Architectural Fragments anterior to the Mahometan
Irruption, No. 1 445
Architectural Parts and Decorative Remains anterior
to the Mahometan Irruption, No. 2 446
Architectural Parts and Decorative Fragments anterior
to the Mahometan Irruption, No. 3 447
Arches of various Churches of the Fourteenth and
Fifteenth Centuries 448
Denudation of our Lord before the Crucifixion. El
Greco. Sacristy of the Cathedral 449
The Virgin, St. Anne, the Child Jesus, and St. John.
El Greco. Chapel of St. Anne 450
Our Lady of Sorrows. El Greco. Sacristy of the New
Kings, in the Cathedral 451
Pentecost. El Greco. Church of the Trinity 452
Jesus and St. John. El Greco. Church of St. John
the Baptist 453
The Assumption. El Greco. Chapel of San José 454
St. Martin. El Greco. Chapel of San José 455
The Holy Eucharist, by El Greco. Church of San José 456
San José and the Child Jesus. El Greco. Parish
Church of the Magdalene 457
The Interment of Count de Orgaz. El Greco. Church
of Santo Tomé 458
Detail of the Interment of Count de Orgaz. El Greco 459
Fragment of the Interment of the Count de Orgaz. El
Greco 460
Fragment of the Interment of the Count de Orgaz. El
Greco 461
Fragment of the Interment of the Count de Orgaz. El
Greco 462
Fragment of the Interment of the Count de Orgaz. El
Greco 463
Fragment of the Interment of the Count de Orgaz 464
Fragment of the Interment of the Count de Orgaz. El
Greco 465
Fragment of the Interment of the Count de Orgaz. El
Greco 466
The Annunciation. El Greco. Parish Church of San
Nicolás 467
The Crucifixion. El Greco. San Nicolás 468
San Pedro Nolasco. El Greco. Parish Church of San
Nicolás 469
The Assumption. El Greco. Parish Church of San
Vicente 470
San Eugenio. El Greco. Parish Church of San Vicente 471
St. Peter. El Greco. Parish Church of San Vicente 472
Jesus and the Virgin. El Greco. Parish Church of
San Vicente 473
The Ascension. El Greco. San Domingo el Antigua 474
A Saint (? Santo Domingo el Antigua). El Greco 475
The Birth of Jesus. El Greco. Santo Domingo el
Antigua 476
Santa Veronica with the Sudarium. El Greco. Santo
Domingo el Antigua 477
St. John Baptist. El Greco. Santo Domingo el Antigua 478
St. John the Evangelist. El Greco. Church of Santo
Domingo 479
Altar-piece of the Convent of Santo Domingo. El Greco 480
St. Francis of Assisi. El Greco. College of Noble
Ladies 481
The Baptism of Jesus. El Greco. Hospital of St. John
Baptist 482
Portrait of Cardinal Tavera. El Greco. Hospital of
St. John Baptist 483
View of the High Altar of the Tavera Hospital. El
Greco 484
General View of Toledo (left half). El Greco. Provincial
Museum 485
General View of Toledo (right half). El Greco. Provincial
Museum 486
View of Toledo. El Greco. Provincial Museum 487
Portrait of Antonio Covarrubias. El Greco. Provincial
Museum 488
Portrait of the Son of Covarrubias. El Greco. Provincial
Museum 489
The Crucifixion. El Greco. Provincial Museum 490
Allegory of the Virgin. El Greco. Provincial Museum 491
Portrait of Juan de Avila. El Greco. Provincial
Museum 492
Our Saviour. El Greco. Provincial Museum 493
St. John the Evangelist. El Greco. Provincial Museum 494
St. Peter. El Greco. Provincial Museum 495
St. Matthias. El Greco. Provincial Museum 496
St. Philip. El Greco. Provincial Museum 497
St. Andrew. El Greco. Provincial Museum 498
St. Thomas. El Greco. Provincial Museum 499
St. Simon. El Greco. Provincial Museum 500
St. Matthew. El Greco. Provincial Museum 501
St. Jude Tadeo. El Greco. Provincial Museum 502
An Apostle. El Greco. Provincial Museum 503
An Apostle. El Greco. Provincial Museum 504
An Apostle. El Greco. Provincial Museum 505
The Annunciation. El Greco 506
The Dream of Philip II. El Greco. Chapter Hall
of the Escorial 507
St. Maurice and the Theban Legion. El Greco. Chapter
Hall of the Escorial 508
Portrait of El Greco by Himself. Señor A. de Beruete,
Madrid 509
Christ driving the Money Changers from the Temple.
El Greco. Señor de Beruete, Madrid 510
Portrait of a Student (El Greco?). El Greco. Don
Pablo Bosch, Madrid 511
TOLEDO
THE CHILDHOOD OF THE CITY
There are spots that stand out in the ocean of time like islands
unsubmerged. The flood of years has rolled onwards past and around them,
and its billows have broken in vain against their shores. Such a spot is
Toledo. It lifts its head above the ever-shifting waters of the ages,
and looks forth unchanged, unchanging, across the sea of centuries--a
last surviving beacon of the drowned mediæval world.
Very old is the city. It has outgrown decay. Nor can we conceive it as
changing. It has almost become a part of the everlasting hills on which
it stands. The rock has grown into Toledo and Toledo into the rock.
In a land where all is old, men marvel at the antiquity of this city.
And when it was younger by centuries, the chroniclers, groping amid
legends and fables the wildest and most extravagant, strove to penetrate
the darkness of the ages and to discern the pale glimmerings of Toledo’s
dawn. Here, surely, first trod the first man, thought the ancients, and
here was already a city when God first placed His sun exactly over it in
the yet-dark Heavens. If this was not so, said another chronicler, then
beyond doubt Toledo’s seven hills were the first to appear above the
waters of the Deluge, and Tubal, the grandson of Noah, established here
a kingdom. So stories and traditions multiplied, each historian
inventing a fresh one. These fables of the city’s founding are quaint,
curious, and ingenious. Iberia and Hispania of course suggested persons,
and so we find Iberia, daughter of King Hispan, and wife of a Persian
captain, Pyrrhus, resorting in search of health to the banks of the
Tagus, and her husband making a bower for her on these rocky steeps.
Hercules, who is credited with the foundation of Seville, added the
building of Toledo to his many labours. “Dismiss these far-fetched
fables,” cries the learned prelate De Rada, “and admit that our city was
founded by the Consuls Tolemon and Brutus, in the reign of Ptolemy
Evergetes.” But another conjecture as absolutely baseless as the others!
More interesting is the legend that the town was built by Jews flying
from Nebuchadnezzar, by whom it was named Toledoth, “the city of
generation.” Certain it is that Jews lived in Toledo at the earliest
periods of its history, and played a great part, as we shall see, in its
affairs. However picturesque may be these traditions and wonderings of
the sages, we cannot resist the conclusion that the beginnings of this
old capital of Spain were obscure and commonplace enough. Along the
banks of the yellow Tagus savage tribesmen pastured their flocks and
herds, and the more practical spirits among them recognised the
advantages of the cliff above the river as a settlement. Doubtless mere
temporary encampments succeeded each other here season after season,
till some sentiment or necessity attached men permanently to the spot,
and a rude cluster of huts was formed--the rough inception of our
greatest towns.
The Celtiberians hereabouts were known to the Romans as Carpetani (how
ill these Latin forms seem to reproduce the uncouth designations which
these primitive peoples really bore!) The Carthaginians were the first
civilised nation to come in contact with them, and we hear of a Punic
governor, Tago. It is impossible to resist the suspicion that his
personality arose, Aphrodite-like, from the river Tagus. But a Moorish
writer gives a plausible account of a revolt which arose among the
Carpetani consequent on Tago’s assassination by Hasdrubal, the
contemporary of Hannibal. This brought that great commander himself upon
the scene. Before him the tribesmen were scattered like chaff before the
wind.
Did the African Phœnicians found a permanent station at Toledo? It
would not seem so. No vestige or fragment, no trace whatever of their
domination has come down to us. Most likely this was a mere trading
centre, where the black-bearded, keen-eyed Semites bartered the wares of
Africa and the East against the ores and fleeces of Spain. The
population remained almost purely Celtic. One wonders if a few
Carthaginians settled amongst them, and if their descendants became
confounded with their kinsmen in race, the Jews. It is a wild
conjecture, but might not the presence of such Semitic settlers have
given rise to the fantastic legend of the founding of Toledo by the
Children of Israel?
Where the Carthaginian sowed, the Roman reaped. And now the Carpetanian
village looms in the light not of mere tradition, but of history. Livy
tells us that in the year 193 B.C. the Pro-Consul Marcus Fulvius
Nobilior defeated a host of Celtiberians, Vaccei and Vectones in this
region, and took prisoner a king called Hilerno. In consequence of this
victory Toledo--described as _urbs parva sed loco munito_--fell into the
power of the conquerors. The wild rebellious Celts might henceforward
chafe and lash themselves into impotent fury; on their necks the yoke of
the Roman was firmly riveted, never by the natives unassisted to be
shaken off.
Historians have remarked on the aloofness of the Toledans during the
long winter of foreign domination. Between the various leaders and
factions who made Spain their cock-pit, the citizens observed strict
neutrality. They rendered no assistance to Viriathus in his magnanimous
attempt to recover national independence. Perhaps they were not wanting
in sympathy for their compatriots; but the conquerors had long
recognised the military value of the town by the Tagus, and here we may
suppose was always a strong garrison ready to stamp out the first
efforts at revolt.
Under the wings of the Roman eagle, the material prosperity of Toledo
steadily increased. From a collection of wretched huts, it had become a
_colonia_, the capital of Carpetania. As such it would have had its
_arx_, or citadel, prætorium, forum, temples, baths, and _vici_, or long
suburbs straggling into the country. Of all these practically no traces
remain. But in the Vega, outside the town, may be traced a semicircular
enclosure, formed by masses of stones and mortar, about a metre in
thickness, but of varying height. This space has been dignified with the
name of Circus Maximum, and is undoubtedly a Roman work. But Señor
Amador de los Rios has demonstrated almost conclusively that the Circus
never advanced much beyond the foundations, which we now see before us
probably in no very different state from that in which they were left
some two thousand years ago. But though no Celtiberian captives or
Christian martyrs here were “butchered to make a Roman holiday,” the
consecration of the spot to the practice of cruelty bore fruit in after
years. For the fires lit by the Inquisition were kindled here, and the
Christian put the incompleted amphitheatre to the use for which it had
been designed by the Pagan. To-day the men of Toledo play at _pelota_ in
the enclosure, and their cheery shouts may well scare away the ghosts of
torturer and victim.
This may be regarded as the most important Roman remains in the
neighbourhood of the city. The famous Cave of Hercules, which figures so
largely in legendary lore, was probably the crypt or substructure of a
Temple of Jupiter; and on the cliff-side below the Alcazar are a few
fragments of a once-important aqueduct.
It has been conjectured from the dimensions of the projected Circus that
the Romans had at one time thought of elevating Toledo to the rank of
chief city of Spain. The design, if it ever was formed, was never
carried into execution. Of what passed in the town under Latin rule we
have but the vaguest notion. Toledo, like almost every other place in
Europe, has its traditions of fierce persecution productive of local
martyrs. Almost as many Christians were massacred in Spain, if we
credit these stories, as Gibbon thinks perished in the whole Roman
Empire. Among the martyrs of Toletum, it is perhaps superfluous to say,
was a young and lovely virgin, in this instance called Leocadia. She was
done to death by the truculent Dacian. St. Eugenius, the first bishop of
Toledo, is said to have been a disciple of St. Paul. He was martyred at
Paris, and his alleged remains were obtained from Charles IX. of France
and presented to the city by Philip II.
In early ecclesiastical annals Toledo has less shadowy claims on
remembrance as the seat of several councils, the most celebrated being
those of 396, 400, 589. The minutes of the second council are preserved
in the local archives. Miss Hannah Lynch makes merry over the fathers’
spirited denunciations of her sex. In truth, the irreverent reader is
reminded of those other fulminations launched in the diocese of Rheims
against certain persons unknown, and of the poet’s surprised comment on
their want of effect. The sex fared better at the hands of the Council,
however, than vegetarians and mathematicians, both of whom were
excommunicated downright. Neither class is numerous in Spain at the
present day, so the labours of the fathers may not have been altogether
ineffectual.
THE CITY UNDER THE VISIGOTH
During the fifth century the Toledans may well have listened with
attention to spiritual discussions, for looking forth from their rocky
perch, they beheld the kingdoms of the earth passing away, and all that
had seemed stable and eternal fading like the morning mist. The final
breaking-up of the great world-controlling power was evident. Nations,
the very names of which the men of the south had never heard, loomed
from out the darkness of the north, and swept like a cloud of locusts
over the land. The whole of Spain was desolate. Toledo, ever grim and
stubborn, stood prepared to die hard. The tide of Vandal invasion surged
in vain round her walls; then spent its fury in the south. The Visigoths
established themselves in southern France. Under Walya they had overrun
Spain, but had exchanged it, willingly enough, for Aquitania. Euric the
Balthing, who succeeded his brother Theodoric as king in 466, seems to
have repented of the bargain. He reconquered all Spain, except Galicia,
which was held by the Suevi, and took Toledo. Where the Vandal had
failed, the Visigoth succeeded. In the first years of the sixth century
the Franks stripped Euric’s grandson, Amalaric, of practically all his
possessions north of the Pyrenees, and the kingdom of the Visigoths
became synonymous with Spain. Its capital was Narbonne during the
troubled reigns of Theudis and Theudigisel. But in 553 Athanagild was
elected king. His wife was the sister of the Bishop of Toledo, and
partly on that account, perhaps, but more probably because of its
central position, he made that city his capital. That rank it retained
during the continuance of the Visigothic monarchy, with the brief
interval of the reign of Liuba, who succeeded Athanagild in 567 and
removed his Court to Narbonne.
The history of Toledo for the next century and a half becomes, in some
sort, the history of Spain. Under Liuba’s brother and successor
Leovigild (more correctly Liobagilths) the monarchy was consolidated.
The Suevi in the north-west were subdued, and the nominal suzerainty of
the Eastern Emperor was disavowed. Despite the difference in religion
between the Visigoths, who were Arians, and the Romanised Iberians, who
were Catholics, the two races began to intermingle, and the fusion of
both into a single nation commenced. Leovigild was the first of his line
to assume the insignia and appurtenances of royalty, and struck coins
with his own likeness and the description, “King in Toledo.” The title
is significant of the increased importance of the city. The prosperity
of the kingdom was temporarily interrupted by the celebrated
insurrection of the monarch’s son Ermenegild. This was the outcome of
the marriage of that prince with Ingunthis, the daughter of the Prankish
and Catholic king Sisebert. The wedding was solemnised in Toledo with
great pomp, but the city shortly after became the scene of violent
quarrels between Queen Goiswintha and her daughter-in-law. Ermenegild
embraced his wife’s religion, and headed a revolt against his father. He
was defeated, and paid the penalty with his life at Tarragona, after
refusing to accept the sacrament at the hands of an Arian bishop.
Unedifying though his conduct may appear to us, he was regarded as a
martyr for the faith, and is enrolled among the saints of the Catholic
Church.
Nor does his example seem to have been without its effect upon his
brother, Reccared, who succeeded Leovigild in 587. In the month of May
589, Toledo was thronged with Catholic bishops and priests--many lately
returned from exile--and with nobles from all parts of Spain, making
their way to the Basilica of Santa Maria de la Sede Real, to assist at
the solemn profession of the Catholic faith by the king and his queen,
Baddo. Sixty-two prelates took part in this, the third Council of
Toledo, the most eminent being Massona, Bishop of Merida, Leandro of
Baetica, Santardus of Braga, Ugno of Barcelona, Megecias of Narbonne,
and Eufemio of Toledo. It was a memorable day for Spain. The king’s
example was soon followed by his subjects of his own race, and the
unification of the two peoples was greatly accelerated.
During the hundred and ten years that elapsed between the death of
Reccared (601) and the rout of the Guadelete (711), no fewer than
fifteen sovereigns sat on the throne of Spain. Toledo was the theatre of
their barbaric triumphings, their violent entrances and tragic exits.
Now the city would resound with the savage, exultant yells of the
townsmen, as they dragged the body of the usurper Witeric up and down
the steep, uneven streets--to cast the bleeding, shapeless thing that
had so lately been a king, upon a dunghill. Now, the people would be
acclaiming Wamba, greatest of the Visigoths--after the strange scene at
Gerticos, where the crown was forced upon him at the sword’s point;
another time, a long procession of captives would file through the
gates, to witness to the old king’s triumph in Narbonnese Gaul. Not a
“demise of the crown” but there would be angry mutterings among the
townsfolk, and whispers of murder, compulsion, and fraud. And while the
kings raved and the people wept, the Church grew every day stronger--so
strong that usurper and legitimate sovereign alike had perforce to
obtain her sanction to his election and accession. And as the years went
on, the spark of religious zeal in the breast of Spain was fanned into
flame, and we read of fierce onslaughts on the Jewish citizens, and of
merciless edicts, condemning them to penalties painful and humiliating.
Dark days were these for the Children of Israel whose home Toledo so
long had been; but darker still were impending for their persecutors and
for the royal line of the Visigoths.
An exact picture of society in Spain at this period has been preserved
in the Etymologies of Isidore Pacense. The Visigoths were a primitive,
barbarous people, who had imposed upon themselves the outward
appearances of Roman, or rather of Byzantine, civilisation. The
contemptuous reference of Hallam to this “obscure race” is undeserved.
Even in their earlier stages of development the Goths manifested many
noble qualities--notably, a clemency towards their enemies--which were
not conspicuous in the more polished nations of the South. And though
they never properly assimilated the culture of the Latins, they attained
to a degree of refinement and civilisation which compares favourably
with that reached by contemporaries. “Spain,” remarks the author of
“Toledo” in the “Monumentos Arquitectónicos de España,” “may then fairly
and proudly claim that, while in Central Europe art had acquired no
distinctive form--in the midst of the bitterness of slavery, when,
before the abjuration of Reccared, the fusion of the races was not
legally recognised--the Iberian Peninsula had developed a definite and
evident artistic and literary individuality. That individuality must
have been the result of the fortuitous conjunction and union of Latin
traditions, more or less degenerate, with influences originally
Byzantine and with those other transformed elements introduced by the
Germanic hosts of Atawulf; but, even then, it remains an individuality,
which asserts itself in the surviving examples of Visigothic culture,
and which was transmitted to the generations succeeding the Moslem
conquest.”
According to the standpoint of the critic, the Gothic kings’ taste for
pomp and luxury may be interpreted as proof of their civilised instincts
or of their native barbarism. For of the splendour of the Court of
Toledo we have abundant testimony. From the writings of Isidore, we
learn that the nobles used only goblets and basins of the precious
metals, that their garments were of superfine silk, and their ornaments
of the richest jewels. The elaborate ceremonial of the royal household
may be inferred from the list of functionaries--the First Count, or
Chief Butler, the _Escancias_; the Count Chamberlain, or _Cubiculario_;
the Master of the Horse, _Estabulario_; the Major Domo, or _Numerario_;
the Steward, or _Silonario_; the Master of the Pages, or _Espartarius_;
the Count of the _Sagrarios_, or Sacred Things; and the Treasurer, or
_Argentarios_. These offices were only held by the highest nobles. In
the Cluny Museum at Paris and the Royal Armoury at Madrid are preserved
the superb Votive Crowns discovered at Guarrazar in 1858. These
priceless objects proclaim the wealth and munificence of the Visigothic
monarchs. They are composed of double hoops of gold, decorated on the
outside by three bands in relief. The outer bands are set with pearls
and sapphires, and the middle band with the same stones in a setting of
a red vitreous substance. The crown is suspended by four chains from a
double gold rosette, which encloses a piece of rock crystal set in
facets. Each chain consists of four links, shaped like the leaf of the
pear-tree, and _percées à jour_. In its original state the crown of King
Swinthila, now in the Madrid Armoury, had, hanging from its lower rim, a
cross and twenty-two letters, making up the inscription, SVINTHILANUS
REX OFFERET. All and each of these letters were actual jewels, set in
the red glassy paste already mentioned, to them being attached large
single pearls and pear-shaped sapphires. Though only twelve letters were
remaining when the crown was discovered, the dedication was skilfully
reconstructed by Señores de Madrazo and Amador de los Rios. The crown of
Recceswinth in the Cluny Museum and the crown of the Abbot Theodosius at
Madrid do not differ greatly from that of Swinthila in style and
material. Though the workmanship is rude compared with modern specimens
of the goldsmith’s art, these crowns still excite admiration by their
beauty and richness. Inquiring into the origin of their style, Señor de
Riaño arrives at the conclusion that it “must be looked for in the East;
their manufacture was most probably Spanish. We cannot imagine the
extraordinary magnificence of the Visigothic court, so similar to that
of Constantinople and other contemporary ones, without the presence at
each of a group of artists whose task was to satisfy these demands.” Not
only the applied arts, but letters and learning were cultivated at
Toledo. Swinthila and Recceswinth delighted in the composition of
epistles and verses, in which, unfortunately, the taste, acquired from
the Byzantines, for long-winded, flowery and involved phrases is
painfully apparent. Recceswinth interested himself in the collection and
revision of ancient manuscripts. In his reign flourished the learned and
saintly Ildefonso, who was publicly thanked for his work on the
perpetual virginity of Mary by the martyr Saint Leocadia, who came
expressly from Heaven for the purpose. One of Ildefonso’s successors in
the see of Toledo, Julian, was a Jew by birth, or at least descent. He
was renowned for his erudition and especially as a polemical writer.
Though he narrowly escaped excommunication as a heretic, he is now
venerated as a saint, and was buried beside St. Ildefonso.
As the seat of a Court which did something more than ape the culture of
the Latins (_pace_ Mr. Leonard Williams), Toledo rose from an obscure
Roman colony into a city of dignity and importance. It is supposed to
have reached its highest stage of development in the reign of King Wamba
(672-680), whose mutilated statue confronts the traveller on approaching
the town from the railway-station. Most of the buildings ascribed by the
chroniclers, however, to that king were in all probability only restored
by his orders, and were originally constructed by his predecessors.
Isidore Pacense enumerates among the edifices existing in his time in
Spain, basilicas, monasteries, oratories, and hermitages; the _Aula
Regia_, or royal residence, “distinguished before all other buildings by
the richness of the four porticos which encircled it”; the _Atrii_ of
the nobility, which were allowed only three porticos; hospitals,
guest-houses, and _Repositaria_, or treasure-houses. It is reasonable to
assume that the capital of Spain would have possessed buildings of all
the kinds specified during the hundred years that elapsed between the
death of Athanagild and the accession of Wamba.
To the former king is attributed the foundation of the sanctuary
converted later into the Hermitage of Cristo de la Luz, and the Church
of Santa Justa, reconstructed in the sixteenth century. From an
inscription on marble found in 1581, near the Convent of San Juan de la
Penitencia, it would appear that Reccared built a church consecrated to
the Virgin in the year 587. The text runs: IN NOMINE DNI CONSECRA | TA
ECCLESIA SCTE MARIE | IN CATHOLICO DIE PRIMO | IDUS APRILIS ANNO FELI |
CITER PRIMO REGNI D-NI | NOSTRI GLORIOSISSIMI H | RECCAREDI REGIS ERA |
DCXXV. To Liuba II. is ascribed the erection of the Church of San
Sebastian, where some capitals and shafts, discovered in 1899, exist to
attest its Visigothic origin. The Basilica of Santa Leocadia dated from
the days of Sisebut (612-621): and though the chroniclers assign no date
to the dedication of the Church of San Ginés there can be no doubt that
it took place in the seventh century. Wamba adorned with statuary and
partially restored the city walls, but it is an error, based on a
corrupt text of Isidore Pacense’s, to suppose that he built them.
The site of the Aula Regia, or Palace of the Visigothic kings, has long
been a matter of dispute among archæologists. The author of the article
on Toledo in the “Monumentos Arquitectónicos” decides in favour of the
plot of ground covered by the Convents of the Concepcion and the
Comendadores de Santiago, the ruined Hospital of Santa Cruz, and the new
extension of the Paseo del Miradero--close to the Zocodover, in the
north-east angle of the city. Adjacent to the palace was the Basilica of
Saints Peter and Paul, “which seems,” says Señor Menendez y Pidal, “to
have been the royal pantheon, opened only for the entombment of the
sovereign and the taking the oath of allegiance to his successor.” Here
were suspended the votive crowns, afterwards buried at Guarrazar; here
probably were interred Athanagild, Leovigild, Reccared I., Liuba II.,
Gundemar, Sisebut, Reccared II., Tulga, Erwig, Egica, and Witica. Their
very dust has long since been scattered by the wind--who shall say
where? In a hall attached to that Basilica, in similar annexes to the
Basilicas of Santa Leocadia and Santa Maria de la Sede Real, were held
those ecclesiastical synods which so powerfully contributed to the
shaping of the destinies of Spain. Santa Leocadia’s church is now known
as the Cristo de la Vega; the Basilica de Santa Maria faced the Bridge
of Alcantara and was in after years known as Santa Maria de Alficem.
Here Recceswinth is said to have been crowned, the temple being
afterwards restored by Erwig, Wamba’s successor.
Not a single building erected by the Visigothic kings exists to-day.
“Destroyed by man’s fury and by the vicissitudes of time,” regretfully
observes Señor Amador de los Rios, “or altered till all trace of their
original form has been lost, by the pious care which intended to
preserve them, you may seek in vain in the city of Wamba for an intact
monument of that age; not even the walls ascribed to that prince have
remained entire. Fragments of friezes; isolated capitals, which have
adorned later edifices, oddly out of place in the scheme of decorations,
or cut and defaced; broken shafts, perhaps bearing some inscriptions;
pieces of a hinge, a metope, a lintel, or an impost, perhaps some
dedicatory tablet--this is all that has escaped at Toledo the
devastating scythe of time.”
These relics, however, are fortunately numerous. For a detailed
description of the more important, the reader is referred to the
“Monumentos Arquitectónicos de España.” Some we shall notice more
particularly in dealing with the edifices of which they now form part.
Under Wamba the Visigothic monarchy reached the apex of its greatness.
Under his four successors, Erwig, Egica, Witica, and Roderic, State and
people are said to have become hopelessly enervated. The old Gothic
vigour blazed up now and again in some individual ruler or statesman,
but failed to communicate itself to the nation. The kingdom was
tottering to its fall. The taste for display and the amenities of
existence grew stronger in this period of decline. Never was there such
wealth and splendour in Toledo as when it fell a prey to the hosts of
Islam. The rapid decay of this once great and martial race is without a
parallel in history. It is difficult to assign to it a cause. Luxury was
the privilege only of the nobility and clergy, and could hardly have
corrupted the whole people. Modern writers lamely attribute the final
catastrophe to ecclesiastical influence and domination. Perhaps when all
has been said, the state of Spain under Witica and Roderic was not much
worse than under subsequent rulers of other dynasties; and the downfall
may have been due, not so much to the effeminacy of the vanquished, as
to the extraordinary military genius of the conquerors. Historians would
have said little about the degeneracy of the Visigoths if the battle of
the Guadalete had had a different issue.
The Hispano-Goths, as Catholics, evinced a fanatical and intolerant
temper which had been conspicuously lacking in them as Arians. Harsh
edicts continued to be promulgated against the Jews--then, as till a
much later date, a most important element in the population of Toledo.
The unlucky Children of Israel may have derived in the intervals of
persecution some malicious consolation from the bitter quarrels between
the king and the Catholic clergy. Witica was an enemy, or what was
probably regarded as the same thing, a would-be reformer of the Church.
To his impiety, indeed, monkish writers are fond of ascribing the
destruction of the Gothic kingdom. His predecessor, Egica, did not
hesitate to condemn to excommunication, exile, and confiscation of
property, Sisebert, the powerful Archbishop of Toledo. Perhaps some
clerkly chronicler, by way of retaliation for this outrage upon his
order, invented the following discreditable story, to be found in the
pages of Lozano.
King Egica had conceived an ardent passion for the beautiful Doña Luz,
who is described as the grand-daughter of Kindaswinth, and the sister of
Roderic, afterwards king. Her love, however, was given to her uncle, Don
Favila, Duke or Governor of Cantabria. The lovers, wearied at last by
the king’s opposition to their union, went through a secret and
simplified form of marriage in the lady’s bedchamber before a statue of
the Virgin. In the course of time. Doña Luz became a mother. Egica’s
suspicions had already been enkindled, and fearing his wrath, she placed
the new-born infant in a little ark and set it afloat on the bosom of
the Tagus. As her maids pushed out the tiny craft from the foot of the
steep path that leads down from Toledo, a radiance diffused itself
around the sleeping child and for long marked his passage down the broad
stream. The irate monarch, divining that Doña Luz must in some way have
disposed of her child, caused a census to be taken of all the children
born in and around the city within the past three months with the names
of the respective fathers. The number of births was recorded at
35,428--a very surprising total for Toledo! And, which is still more
remarkable and highly creditable to the city, the parentage of these
numerous infants was in every case authenticated. What then had become
of Doña Luz’s baby? Baffled in his quest, the king suborned one of his
minions, Melias by name, to accuse the unfortunate lady of incontinency.
The penalty for this offence, we are told, was nothing less than death
by fire; and for that fate Egica bade Doña Luz prepare, unless she could
secure a defender or otherwise clear her reputation. At the eleventh
hour, the valorous champion appeared in the person of Don Favila, who
disproved the charge made against his lady-love to the satisfaction of
mediæval intelligences, by the simple method of running her accuser
through the body. This, however, did not satisfy the sceptical monarch,
who insisted on a further ordeal by combat. A knight named Bristes,
cousin of the recreant Melias, was challenger and accuser on this
occasion, and was quickly despatched by the doughty Favila.
In the meantime the ark containing Pelayo, the infant child of Doña Luz
and her champion, had reached Alcantara, where the little passenger
almost miraculously fell into the hands of his mother’s other uncle,
Grafeses. This benevolent prince took every care of the child,
unsuspicious, of course, of his origin. Attracted to Court by the noise
of these scandals and combats, he found a handkerchief in his niece’s
room, the counterpart of one which he had discovered in the little ark.
Doña Luz soon confessed to him the whole story, and he endeavoured to
intercede for her with the king. Egica, probably more exasperated than
ever, insisted on a third duel between Favila and a knight called
Longaris. Both combatants had been wounded when a holy hermit appeared
on the scene, and admonished the king as to his wickedness and hardness
of heart. Egica repented and consented to the public celebration of the
marriage of Favila and Doña Luz. Here we have a fine romantic account of
the origin of the heroic Pelayo, the restorer of the monarchy and the
saviour of the Spanish nation.
Wilder, more romantic still, and better known are the legends clustering
round the last king of the Goths. The scene of most of these is laid in
Toledo. Here was held that wonderful tournament, to which resorted all
the crowned heads of Europe--aye, even such potentates as the Emperor of
Constantinople and the King of Poland. A new city of palaces was reared
in the Vega by the hospitable Roderic to accommodate his fifty thousand
noble guests. This splendid function may have taken place before or
after the king’s strange marriage with the bewitching Moorish princess
Elyata (re-baptized Exilona), who had been washed ashore by the sea on
the coast of Valencia. Lovely as was his consort, Roderic did not, as we
all know, remain faithful to her. Here enters the mournful and very
shadowy figure of Florinda, otherwise known as La Cava. This peerless
damsel was confided to the care of the king by her father, the trusty
Julian (or Illán), governor of Ceuta. Alas for the maiden! while bathing
in the Tagus, her charms were only too well revealed to Roderic, gazing
from his palace windows on the cliff above. A glimpse of a shapely leg
scarce concealed by a diaphanous mantle decided the fate of
Florinda--and of Spain. What he could not effect by persuasion, the
king effected by violence. Perhaps he hoped that the proud Julian’s
daughter would keep silence as to her own dishonour. He was mistaken. A
trusty page, spurring night and day, quickly bore the fatal tidings to
the father at distant Ceuta, and the missive in which the wronged
Florinda implored vengeance on her betrayer.
To the no doubt conscience-stricken Roderic, seated in good old kingly
fashion upon his throne, appeared two venerable strangers with a message
of mysterious import. When Hercules had founded (as some men say)
Toledo, not far from the city, among the mountains, he had reared a
tower, of which these uncouth brethren were the guardians, as their
ancestors, in an unbroken line, had been before them. On this tower and
on its unknown and fearful contents, the demigod had laid a necromantic
spell. It had been the custom of each of the Kings of Spain to affix to
the massive doors a new lock, and now Roderic was summoned to fulfil
this duty, for failing this and if any rash mortal should discover the
secret of the tower, ruin, absolute and immediate, must overtake his
kingdom. Agog with curiosity, with a brilliant cavalcade, the king
clattered through the streets of his capital, and found the wondrous
tower in the recesses of the hills. The aged custodians besought him to
hasten and to affix his seal to the enchanted doors. In vain! it was
with another intention the impetuous sovereign had come hither. He burst
open the doors and rushed in, where never man since Hercules had dared
to tread. Before him stood a gigantic statue in bronze, which dealt
blows with a great mace unceasingly to right and left. On its breast
were inscribed the words, _I do my duty_. Roderic sternly adjured the
creature of enchantment to let him pass. It obeyed. In the interior of
the tower the King found a casket of rich workmanship. A legend thereon
warned him of the doom that would overtake him who should open it.
Roderic forced open the lid. He beheld a fold of linen on which were
painted the figures of Moorish warriors in battle-array. As he gazed the
figures seemed to move, to grow larger, to assume the proportions of
men. He beheld a battlefield where Goths and Moors contended for the
mastery. Breathless, he awaited the issue. The Goths were flying, and he
saw his own white steed, Orelia, galloping through the fray--riderless.
Affrighted, the king and his attendants rushed to the door. There lay
the two ancient custodians, dead. Thunder rolled, a storm burst over the
land, and Roderic and his cavaliers drew not rein till they reached the
palace of Toledo. Next day the stout-hearted Goths reascended to the
hills. But as they approached, behold a great eagle swooped down from
the sky holding in its talons a flaming brand! The tower blazed up like
matchwood. Then arose a great wind which carried the ashes to every part
of Spain; and every man on whom a portion of the ashes fell was
afterwards slain in battle by the Moors.
These direful portents must surely have prepared Roderic for treachery,
conspiracies, and unpleasantness of all kinds. But when Count Julian
arrived, smiling and deferential, to take his daughter home to Ceuta, he
seems to have suspected nothing, feared nothing. The rest of the
story--Julian’s invitation to the Moors, the rout of Guadalete, the
disappearance of Roderic--relates to the history of Spain generally, not
to that of Toledo. Dozy believes that Julian actually existed, but he
seems to have been a Byzantine governor of Ceuta, not a Spaniard. It is
hardly necessary to say that Florinda is as much a figment of the
imagination as the enchanted tower. Yet near the Puente de San Martin
(above which never king’s palace stood) some fragments of masonry are
pointed out as the Baños de la Cava (Florinda’s Bath). They are, in
reality, but the remains of a Moorish tomb.
In July 711, King Roderic set out from Toledo, never to return. Upon the
news of the rout of Guadalete, all the magnates and prelates abandoned
the city. Its surrender to the Moorish host of the one-eyed Tarik was
the work of the Jews, who had not forgotten the persecutions of Sisebert
and Egica. There were Jews in the invading army under the command of
Kaula-al-Yahudi. When Tarik appeared before the walls, a venerable
Israelite was let down in a basket, and, approaching him, offered to
admit him to the city if liberty and the free exercise of their religion
were guaranteed to his race. The Berber joyfully accepted these terms,
and on the following day proud Toledo--deserted by its Christian
inhabitants--was annexed to the Saracen Khalifate.
TOLEDO UNDER THE MOOR
Never again was Toledo to attain to the wealth and splendour it
possessed under Wamba and his successors. The invaders, fresh from the
conquest of the richest provinces of Africa, were dazzled by the
magnificence of the spoils that fell to them in the dark-browed city
above the Tagus. The Arabian historians have need of all their powers of
hyperbole to over-estimate the richness of the treasure. There was
enough and to spare, Al Leyth Ibn Saïd tells us, for every soldier in
the army. The humblest troopers might have been seen staggering under
the weight of priceless silks and garments, chains of gold, and strings
of precious stones. The rude Berbers, fresh from their mountains, but
ill appreciated the value of the loot, and cut the costliest fabrics in
two or more pieces to adjust their shares. A magnificent carpet,
composed of superb embroidery, interwoven with gold and ornamented with
filigree work, and profusely set with gems, is said to have been treated
in this way by the troopers into whose greedy hands it fell. It would be
interesting to learn the place of manufacture of this carpet, for from
the silence of St. Isidore upon the subject of textile fabrics, it would
seem that they were not made in his time in Spain.
But, to credit the Moorish chroniclers, the rarest of exotic treasures
had been accumulated in the Visigothic capital. Here were found the
Psalms of David, written upon gold leaf in a fluid made from dissolved
rubies! and most wonderful of all, the Table of Solomon made out of a
single emerald! It was brought to Toledo--so runs one version--after the
taking of Jerusalem, and was valued in Damascus at one hundred thousand
dinars--equal to about £50,000. We are not surprised to hear that this
unique piece of furniture “possessed talismanic powers”; for tradition
affirms it was the work of genii, and had been wrought by them for King
Solomon the Wise, the son of David. This marvellous relic was carefully
preserved by Tarik as the most precious of all his spoils, being
intended by him as a present to the Khalifa; and, in commemoration of
it, the city was called by the Arabs, Medina Almyda, that is to say,
“The City of the Table.”
Thus far Washington Irving. With characteristic credulity, Ibn Hayyan,
the historian, gives in the translation of Gayangos a substantially
different account of the treasure: “The celebrated table which Tarik
found at Toledo, although attributed to Solomon and named after him,
never belonged to the poet-king. According to the barbarian authors, it
was customary for the nobles and men in estimation of the Gothic Court,
to bequeath a portion of their property to the church. From the money so
amassed the priests caused tables to be made of pure gold and silver,
gorgeous thrones and stands on which to carry the Gospels in public
processions, or to ornament the altars on great festivals. The so-called
Solomon’s table was originally wrought with money derived from this
source, and was subsequently emulously enlarged and embellished by
successive kings of Toledo, the latest always anxious to surpass his
predecessor in magnificence, until it became the most splendid and
costly gem ever made for such a purpose. The fabric was of pure gold,
set with the most precious pearls, emeralds and rubies. Its
circumference was encrusted with three rows of these valuable stones,
and the whole table displayed jewels so large and refulgent that never
did human eye behold anything comparable with it.... When the Muslims
entered Toledo it was discovered on the altar of the Christian Church,
and the fact of such a treasure having been found soon became public and
notorious.”
Gibbon accounts for the presence of the Table of Solomon at
Toledo--assuming that there ever was such a thing, and that it ever was
there at all--by supposing it to have been carried off by Titus to
Rome, whence it may have been taken by Alaric when the Goths sacked the
city. Whichever version of the table’s origin be accepted, it seems
strange that it was not carried away by the clergy in their flight from
Toledo. Of its ultimate fate nothing is known, unless we can accept the
little that is revealed in the following history.
Upon Musa approaching the city to supersede Tarik, the latter broke off
and concealed one of the legs of the table. Musa was already incensed
against his lieutenant for having deprived him of the glory of the
conquest of Spain, and emphasised his reprimands with strokes of a whip.
When he found that the leg of the table was missing, his anger was very
great. Tarik assured him he had found it in that mutilated condition,
and Musa caused the missing leg to be replaced by one of gold. His
subordinate, however, he cast into prison, where the One-Eyed One
remained till released by orders from the Khalifa himself. He was amply
revenged on Musa, when upon the latter presenting the table to his
sovereign as his own discovery, he was able triumphantly to give him the
lie by producing the missing leg of emerald. And so the wonderful Table
of Solomon, of emerald, or of gold, or of both, passes out of the ken of
history.
We hear of Musa’s son, Abd-ul-Aziz (or “Belasis,” as he is quaintly
termed by old Spanish writers) marrying King Roderic’s widow, Exilona,
at Toledo. Abd-ul-Aziz, however, was Governor of Seville, where he met
his death, and it is not unlikely, if he married the queen at all, that
he did so in that southern city, where she may have been left by her
first consort to await the result of the battle of the Guadalete. If
there be any truth in the legend that Exilona was of Moorish origin
herself, the story of this second and apparently cold-blooded union
seems less improbable. Tradition has it that the widow of the Goth only
consented to the match on Abd-ul-Aziz promising to observe towards her
all the deference due to a Christian queen. He kept his promise only too
faithfully, and his forcing his officers to bend the knee to a woman and
an infidel, is said to have contributed to bring about his assassination
in the mosque at Seville.
The conquerors here, as in other parts of the kingdom, acted generously
towards the conquered. A moderate tribute was levied on the Christians,
who were allowed to practise their religion and be governed by their own
laws and customs. Seven churches were allotted to their use, the names
of these being Santa Eulalia, Santa Maria de Alficem, Santa Justa, San
Sebastian, San Marcos, San Torcuato, and San Lucas. But these privileges
must have hardly consoled the citizens for the loss of the town’s rank
as capital of Spain. It became, as it had been under the Romans, “a
strong place,” of which the dominant race valued the advantages, but, in
consequence of the rise of Cordoba and Seville it sank to the condition
of a provincial town.
As such its career was throughout stormy and turbulent. The spirit of
rebellion seemed instinct in the grim fortress-like city, and infused
itself into Mohammedan and Christian, Arab and Castilian alike. The two
races fraternised well enough. They had a common interest: resistance to
any external authority. This impatience of control was characteristic of
the Toledans for centuries. Its annals during the period of Mohammedan
occupation are a tedious record of sieges, riots, usurpations and
massacres. Such events are only of interest when studied in the minutest
detail. A brief _résumé_ of them is, however, indispensable to a proper
knowledge of the town.
The citizens’ first appearance in the troubled arena of Muslim politics
was as loyalists--an uncongenial _rôle_! In the civil wars that
distracted the reign of Abd-ul-Malik, Toledo was held by his son Omeya,
and vainly besieged for a month by the rebels. On the approach of
Abd-ul-Malik, the garrison, wishful of glory, made a vigorous sortie and
completely routed the investing force. The townsmen had tasted blood.
It took much to quench their thirst. Knowing their character, in the
troubles fomented by the pretender Yusaf ben Debri, his partisan,
Mohammed Abu-l-Aswad took refuge among them in the year of the Hegira
142. The place was immediately invested by the Wizir, Al Kama, and as
usual offered a stout resistance. Wearied of their ruler, however, the
people played him false and betrayed the town to the Wizir. Abu-l-Aswad
was taken prisoner and sent to Cordoba.
A year or two later the Toledans repented of their submission. While the
Amir, Abd-ur-Rahman, was engaged in preparations for a war in the east
of Spain, some powerful families, led by one Hixem ben Adra al Fehri,
rose, seized the Alcazar, and put the Wizir to flight. They released the
notorious rebel, Kasim ben Yusuf, from prison, and raised an army of
about ten thousand men--mostly freebooters and masterless men who seemed
to have regarded Toledo as the best market for their peculiar talents.
The Amir’s appearance before the walls, with a powerful army, caused
moderate counsels to prevail among the insurgents. The citizens were
anxious to be rid of the undesirables they had invited into their midst,
and persuaded Hixem to visit the royal camp to solicit terms.
Abd-ur-Rahman generously pardoned him, and once more incarcerating
Kasim, left the town to itself.
He soon had good reason to repent his forbearance. In 763 Kasim escaped
from confinement, rallied the citizens round him, and declared the town
subject only to the Khalifa of Damascus. The siege that followed was
languidly conducted. The people, we read, were suffered to cultivate
their fields, and to carry produce into the city unmolested. At this
rate the siege might have lasted as long as that of Candia. Kasim,
meanwhile lulled into a sense of security, abused his power, and
alienated his unruly subjects. On the arrival of the Amir, he was given
notice to quit. Having seen him successfully elude the royal forces,
Toledo opened its gates to Abd-ur-Rahman. The Amir, despairing of the
townsmen’s temper, exacted from them but a nominal obedience, but his
successor, Hakam, thought to coerce them by a bitter lesson. As
Governor, he sent them one Amru of Huesca, a renegade Christian, “by a
condescension,” he wrote, “which proves our extreme solicitude for your
interests.” The renegade’s policy was thorough. He ingratiated himself
with the people, and posed as the champion of their liberties. It was at
their own suggestion that he raised a fortress in their very midst. The
place being strongly garrisoned and all being ready, the approach of a
large army, commanded by the Amir’s son, Abd-ur-Rahman, was announced.
At the suggestion of the Governor, the prince was invited by the
nobility into the city; and he, in return, as if to mark his sense of
the honour conferred upon him, ordered a great feast to be made ready at
the Castle. To this all the chief men were bidden. What followed is
known as the Day of the Fosse. The guests were allowed to enter only one
by one. Behind the gate stood a man with bared arm and uplifted axe. As
each guest entered there was a sweep of the arm, a flash of steel, and a
head rolled into the ditch already prepared. Without, nothing was heard,
nothing was seen, nothing suspected. The episode reminds one of the
famous Blood Bath of Stockholm. The butchery is said at last to have
been revealed to those waiting outside the wall by the thick vapour
issuing from the gate. A physician, who had been watching for hours, and
who had noticed that none of the numerous guests who had entered, had
issued forth, was the first to raise the alarm. “Men of Toledo,” he
shouted, “I vow that yonder vapour is not the smoke of a feast, but
rises from the blood of our butchered brethren!”
This ghastly tragedy occurred in 807, and has given rise to a proverbial
expression current in Spanish--_una noche Toledana_, applied to a night
disagreeably passed in sleeplessness or pain.
The blow struck by the ferocious Amru was of the kind that alone met
with the approval of Macchiavelli: it not only intimidated, but it
crushed. For a quarter of a century we hear no more of tumults or
dissensions in the City by the Tagus. Meantime it prospered. Arts and
letters flourished. In the year 827 we have to record the death “of the
very learned alfaqui, Isa ben Dinar el Ghafeki, a native of that city
and a disciple of Malik ben Anas. He was a man beloved by all--friendly
in manner, admirable in conversation, and upright of life: such as were
taught by Isa ben Dinar acquired their learning with delight. He was in
the habit of practising some few observances that were considered
extraordinary: he made, for example, the prayer of the dawn with the
preparation and ablutions proper to that of the evening twilight.”
The opulence of the Jews and Christians decided the Wali, Aben Mafût ben
Ibrahim, to increase their tribute. This led to the outbreak of 832. A
wealthy young citizen, named Hakam el Atiki, otherwise known as El
Durrete, or “the striker of blows,” had been insulted by the Wali, and
used the discontent of the people as a means of avenging his injuries.
He distributed money freely among the more inflammable sections of the
populace, and collected about him a body of lawless followers. One of
these was seized in the Soko, or market-place (the Zocodover) by one of
the Wali’s officers, and a tumult at once uprose. In the end the
Alcazar fell into the hands of the rebels, and the Wali barely escaped
with his life. Hakam, however, was shortly afterwards obliged to abandon
his conquest, and spread abroad the report that he had left the country.
The vigilance of the garrison becoming in consequence relaxed, he seized
the city by a _coup de main_, and held it for some years. He was
wounded, taken prisoner, and beheaded in 837, by Abd-el-Raf, his head
being suspended from the gate of Bisagra.
So far the risings at Toledo had been mainly political, and the townsmen
had sunk their religious and racial differences to make common cause
against the stranger. The cause of the insurrection of 854 was, by
exception, an outburst of fanaticism on the part of the Muzarabes or
Christians, who practised the ritual of the Spanish Goths. It was at
this time that the Catholics of Cordoba and Seville, subject to some
extraordinary aberration, had in great numbers earned the doubtful
honour of martyrdom by blaspheming Mohammed. To Toledo, as the most
likely spot at which to create a disturbance, came Eulogius and stirred
the Christians to avenge the “wrongs” of their co-religionists. Under
the leadership of Sindola, they dispossessed their Moorish governors,
and carrying the war into the enemy’s own country, defeated the Amir’s
forces at Andujar. Ordoño King of Leon, now came to the assistance of
the citizens, who, hitherto, had shown no eagerness to call in the help
of the Christians of the north. Mohammed, the Amir, presently appeared
before Toledo, and drew the allied forces into an ambush. The Christians
were totally defeated--almost annihilated. Nothing daunted, the
Toledans, later on, insulted their sovereign by electing Eulogius to the
vacant archiepiscopal see. Mohammed, by way of reprisal, inveigled a
large force of Christians on to a bridge which he had undermined. It was
the Day of the Fosse over again.
In the year 873, we find the independence of Toledo, subject to his
suzerainty, nominally acknowledged by the Amir, who was probably glad to
make any terms that promised peace with vassals so turbulent. In the
reign of the Amir Al Mundhir even this faint shadow of outside authority
was shaken off by the city, which again asserted its complete
independence, in 886, under Ibn Hafsûn. The town was besieged by the
royal forces under the Wizir Haksim. The wily Ibn Hafsûn, seeing that
the stronghold must fall, proposed to the opposing general that he
should allow him to evacuate the place and transport his army to the
frontier of Valencia, on a train of beasts of burden to be provided by
the besiegers. Haksim joyfully assented to this capitulation, and on the
day appointed, what was supposed to be the entire army of the rebel
chief issued from the gates of the city and wended their way, with the
train of packhorses, eastwards. Leaving what he considered a sufficient
garrison in Toledo, Haksim drew off the greater part of his forces and
went to Cordoba. Meanwhile the crafty Hafsûn swiftly retraced his steps,
and with the aid of the considerable detachment he had left concealed in
the town, put the garrison to the sword, and once more hurled defiance
at the Amir. Great was Al Mundhir’s wrath on the receipt of this
intelligence, and before nightfall, the head of Haksim lay severed from
his body.
Ibn Hafsûn proved a formidable antagonist. The Amir lead an army against
him in 888 and was defeated and killed. Twenty years later Hafsûn died,
bequeathing what was practically an independent sovereignty to his son.
The great Khalifa, Abd-ur-Rahman III., now sat on the throne of Cordoba.
He determined to put an end to the arrogant pretensions of the unruly,
untameable city. His summons to capitulate being contemptuously
rejected, he took the field in 930. For eight years the siege went on,
varied by exploits and incidents, which might prove matter for a Moorish
Iliad. Famine stalked abroad in the obstinate city, but the Hafsûns
would not hear of surrender. When at last it became plain that the
people would yield, the leaders and their partisans, to the number of
four thousand, made a last desperate sortie. Two thousand cavaliers,
with a foot-soldier clutching firmly hold of each horse’s girth, they
broke through Abd-ur-Rahman’s camp, and got clean away. Almost joyfully
the townsmen opened their gates to the great Amir--to be firmly bitted
and bridled during the remainder of his reign.
That the town was still subject to the central authority in the year
979, we gather from this incident. The Governor, Abd-ul-Malik Ibn Merwân
having some difference with the Wali of Medina Selim (Medinaceli),
challenged him to single combat and slew him. For this, without more
ado, he was removed from office by orders from Cordoba.
In the first quarter of the eleventh century, Toledo recovered her
freedom, on the break-up of the Umeyyah empire. Under her sultan,
Ismail, in 1023, she was able to boast that she knew no other lord or
ruler under the blue heavens. After Ismail came Abu-l-Hasan Yahya al
Ramân who reigned till 1075, and was then succeeded by Yahya Kadir, who
lost his throne in 1085.
Before relating the incidents of the reconquest of Toledo by the
Christians and its incorporation in the steadily expanding kingdom of
Leon, we will take a glance at the city as it was under its Mohammedan
rulers. Of its affluence, importance, and strength, the foregoing
cursory sketch of its history has afforded us some idea. It ranked as
the metropolis of the Christian element in the Amir’s dominions, and its
prelates early obtained recognition from their Paynim sovereigns as
dignitaries of the highest standing. Among them were such notable men as
Wistremir and Eulogius. One of the archbishops of Toledo, Elipando,
embraced the heresy of Nestorius, and went the length of excommunicating
his fellow bishops. Upon his death, however, an orthodox successor was
chosen. The Christians were wealthy and arrogant. They were classed in
congregations, dependent on their various churches, each division
including certain families irrespective of their domiciles. Toledo,
during the three and a half centuries of Mohammedan dominion, never
seems to have lost the outward character of a Christian town. Moorish
influence she felt, and it served to soften and chasten her rough
features, but Moorish she never became as did Seville and Cordoba. Yet
in every corner of the old city the guides are prone to point out the
buildings and remains that they fondly believe to be of Arabic
workmanship. In reality, very few monuments of the Mohammedan period
have survived. It is not by what we see but by what we read that we can
form an idea of the city as it was in those days.
It was renowned for its clepsydras or water-clocks, invented by
Abu-l-Kasim. These are described as follows in an Arabic document: “But
what is marvellous and surprising in Toledo, and what we believe no
other town in all the world has anything to equal, are its water-clocks.
It is said that Az-Zagral [Abu-l-Kasim] hearing of a certain talisman
which is in the city of Arin, of Eastern India, and which shows the
hours by means of _aspas_ or hands, from the time the sun rises till it
sets, determined to fabricate an artifice by means of which the people
could know the hour of day or night, and calculate the day of the moon.
He made two great ponds in a house on the bank of the Tagus, near the
Gate of the Tanners, making them so that they should be filled with
water or emptied according to the rise and fall of the moon.” The water
began to flow into the ponds as soon as the moon became visible, and at
dawn they were four-sevenths full. The water rose by one-seventh every
twenty-four hours, and were full at full moon. As the luminary waned,
the water fell in exact proportion. The exact working of these
contrivances was lost when an astronomer, deputed by Alfonso el Sabio to
examine them, broke parts of the intricate machinery.
The chroniclers relate wonders of the palace of An Naôra, so called from
its celebrated _noria_ or hydraulic apparatus. The apartments were so
splendid as to rival those of the palace of the Amir himself, and “were
resplendent as the sun at noonday, and the moon at the full.” In the
luxurious gardens was the lake or albuhera, in the centre of which rose
a pavilion of glass, where Al Ramân-bil-Lah, the last sovereign of
Toledo, used to pass the night. “The clever architects”--we quote from
the “Monumentos Arquitectónicos”--who made the lake, not only raised the
waters from the river in order to fill it, but raised them above the
cupola of the pavilion, over and around which they flowed incessantly,
forming around it a diaphanous and crystalline mantle. Not a drop could
penetrate the structure or touch the persons within. With the sonorous
murmur of these waters mingled that produced by the fountains that
gushed forth from the mouths of the lions in metal guarding this
wonderful pavilion. Illumined inside with lamps of various colours,
without it presented a fantastic appearance, which was reflected back
from the waters of the lake, and which the people of Toledo contemplated
with admiration through the dense foliage.”
Of this exquisite pleasaunce, no trace remains. Nor is anything left of
the other palace of Al Hizem, built by Ismaîl, the first admittedly
independent Sultan of Toledo--afterwards inhabited by the Christian
kings. The principal building in Moorish times was, of course, the
Aljama, or Chief Mosque. This seems to have been erected at the same
time as the great Mezquita at Cordoba, in the reign of Abd-ur-Rahman
II., and to have been richly embellished and enlarged under the third
and greatest Khalifa of that name. We read that in the fourth century of
the Hegira, the architect Fatho ben Ibrahim el Caxevi built two
sumptuous mosques, called, the one, Adabejin, the other Gebel Berida;
but where these were situated, or what was the real Arabic spelling of
the names, we have no means of knowing.
Happily a few specimens of the local architecture of that epoch remain.
Of these one of the learned compilers of the “Monumentos
Arquitectónicos” writes: “In spite of their varying degrees of
integrity, and although greatly damaged and changed by later
restorations, these works possess an extreme importance, and suffice to
manifest the peculiar physiognomy of the secondary religious edifices of
this part of the Peninsula at the most glorious epoch of the
Khalifate--a physiognomy strikingly different from that of the principal
religious structures, or Aljamas, equivalent to our cathedrals, and
different also from that of the same buildings in the south. They show,
furthermore, decorative processes believed to have been unknown in
Spain at that epoch.”
The most complete and remarkable of these buildings is the Mosque of
Bib-el-Mardom, now known as the Cristo de la Luz. It is situated to the
north of the city, between the Puerta del Sol and the Puerta Bisagra.
Here Alfonso VI., on entering Toledo on May 25, 1085, halted and caused
Mass to be celebrated, leaving his shield behind him as a memento of the
incident.
The exterior of this most interesting building is unpromising. It is
thus described by Mr. Street: “The exterior face of the walls is built
of brick and rough stone. The lower part of the side wall is arcaded
with three round arches, within the centre of which is a round horseshoe
arch for a doorway; above is a continuous sunk arcade of cusped arches,
within which are window openings with round horse-shoe heads. The lower
part of the walls is cut with single courses of brick, alternating with
rough stonework; the piers and arches of brick, with projecting labels
and strings also of unmoulded brick. The arches of the upper windows are
built with red and green bricks alternated.” Restorations carried out in
1899 brought to light a most interesting pierced frieze running round
the north-eastern façade, and serving as a sort of ventilator. Above was
deciphered the following inscription in Arabic characters: “In the name
of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful. This mosque was rebuilt ... the
renewal of its upper part, proposing to render it more beautiful, and
[the restoration] was finished, with the help of God, under the
direction of Musa Ibn Ali, the architect, and of Saada. It was completed
in the Muharram of the year 370” [July 17, 979, to August 15, 980 A.D.]
The whole façade of the edifice has been much disfigured by successive
reconstructions, coatings of plaster, &c., and has undergone much more
serious transformation than the interior.
Entering when the eyes have become accustomed to the obscurity, we make
out the details of a very small and curious structure. Again to quote
Mr. Street, the nave is only “21 ft. 7¼ in. by 20 ft. 2 in., and this
space is subdivided into nine compartments by four very low circular
columns, which are about a foot in diameter. Their capitals are all
different. The arches, of which four spring from each capital, are all
of the round horseshoe form; above them is a string-course, and all the
intermediate walls are carried up to the same height as the main walls.
They are all pierced above the arches with arcades of varied design,
generally cusped in very Moorish fashion, and supported on shafts; and
above these each of the nine divisions is crowned with a little vault,
formed by intersecting cusped ribs, thrown in the most fantastic way
across each other, and varied in each compartment. The scale of the
whole work is so diminutive that it is difficult, no doubt, to
understand how so much is done in so small a space; but looking to the
early date of the work it is impossible not to feel very great respect
for the workmen who built it, and for the ingenious intricacy which has
made their work look so much larger and important than it really is.”
After the Reconquest, the loftier portion of the temple, consisting of
apse and transept, and containing the altar, was added. Looking closer
into the details of the Moorish portion, one is struck by the contrast
presented by rude shafts and capitals, evidently of Visigothic
workmanship, with the general elegance and delicacy of the whole. On
making a careful study of these features, it is difficult to resist the
conclusion (supported, indeed, by tradition) that they formed part of an
earlier and less skilfully constructed mosque, itself merely a
restoration or adaptation of a Visigothic church. Señor Amador de los
Rios is of opinion that the existing structure constituted only the
inner portion or _maksurah_ of the temple, and believes that the
southern wall is the only part of the outer or enclosing _enceinte_
remaining. In this he finds traces of the _kiblah_ or sanctuary,
_membar_, and other features peculiar to Mohammedan worship. The mosque
consisted originally, in all probability, in addition to the fabric we
now see, of naves extending on each side of those still standing, from
north-east to south-west. Even thus the mosque must have been very
small. The exact configuration and plan of the original building is
still a matter of great perplexity to archæologists, and a great many
more discoveries remain to be made before anything can be positively
stated under this head.
The newer, or Christian, portion of the mosque contains some remarkable
mural paintings, discovered in 1871. They date from about the close of
the twelfth century, and exhibit pronounced Byzantine influence. It
seems satisfactorily established that two of the four female figures
represent Saints Eulalia and Martiana; and the other two, in all
probability, the martyrs Leocadia and Obdulia. The fifth figure--that of
a man--represents a prelate. It may be, as Mr. Leonard Williams thinks,
the Archbishop Bernardo, who figures largely in the annals of the
Reconquest; or the prelate’s patron saint. It is not to that archbishop,
however, but to one of his successors--possibly Don Gonzalo Perez
(1182-1193)--that the remodelling of the building into a Christian place
of worship should be ascribed.
This intensely interesting monument is the subject of several curious
and entertaining legends. In the days of Athanagild (and it is not
impossible, as we know, that the church may have existed at that time) a
crucifix, greatly venerated by the citizens, hung over the door. Two
evil-minded Jews, Sacao and Abishai by name, to express their hatred for
Christianity, drove a lance into the side of the figure. Instantly blood
gushed forth. The terrified Israelites hid the miraculous object in
their own home, but were traced by the stains of blood, and (it is
hardly necessary to add) torn to pieces. This irritated their
co-religionists, who, to avenge them, poisoned the feet of the statue.
This resulted in a second miracle, for when a devout woman was about to
kiss the feet, they were withdrawn--to the discovery and undoing, once
more, of the villainous Jews. The right foot of the image remains
withdrawn to the present day, that all men may know the truth of the
story.
Now we come to the explanation of the name “Cristo de la Luz.” When the
Moors were about to take the city, the Christians walled up the
miraculous crucifix, with a lamp burning before it. Three hundred and
seventy years passed; and on the glorious May 25, 1085, Alfonso VI. and
his Christian chivalry came riding into reconquered Toledo. Among the
cavaliers was the Cid, Ruy Diaz de Bivar. The warrior’s horse, on
passing the mosque, stumbled, or, as others have it, knelt. With
preternatural acuteness, the Cid suspected some unusual circumstance,
and had the adjacent wall broken down. Then was discovered the crucifix
with the lamp still burning brightly, as when placed there nearly four
centuries before. The mosque was reconsecrated on the spot; and the King
left his shield as a memento. There it hangs to-day, above the central
arch, bearing a white cross on a crimson ground. Whether it is authentic
or not, we cannot say, but below it one may read: _Esto es el escudo que
dejo en esta ermita el Rey Don Alfonso VI., cuando ganó á Toledo y se
dijo aqui la primera misa._
The Cristo de la Luz is no longer a church, and is now classed among the
national monuments of Spain.
Hardly less interesting, but very far from being as well known, is the
ancient mosque in the Calle de las Tornerias. It is contained in the
upper part of the private houses numbered 27, 29, and 31. The mosque
having been built against a steep incline, it was raised on a
substructure of galleries, which now form the ground floor of the modern
houses. The mosque was never converted to Christian uses, and retains
its original physiognomy almost unimpaired. In the opinion of Spanish
archæologists, it belongs to the same period as the Cristo de la Luz;
but Street does not share this view, and thinks it a later work. Like
the other mosque, it is built more or less in the form of a square, and
has likewise Visigothic columns and capitals, pointing to the existence
of a previous structure. Here, also, we find the horseshoe arch and the
cupola, and evidences of the position of the kiblah. Recent restorations
have shown that the walls are composed of the finest brickwork,
unsurpassed for smoothness and regularity. But so far no trace has been
revealed of any texts from the Koran, or inscription commemorating the
architect’s name, such as were usual in the Mohammedan temples of Spain.
The Puerta Antigua de Bisagra, or ancient gate of Bisagra--not to be
confounded with the new gate of the same name built by Charles V.--is
dilapidated and falling to pieces. In Moorish times it was the principal
entrance to the city. The name was probably originally Bib-Sahla. It
dates from about the beginning of the tenth century, but to the
primitive structure only the foundations of the gate belong. A
reconstruction seems to have been carried out at the time of the
Reconquest, and to that epoch the arch, or gate, properly speaking, may
be assigned. The upper portion of the time-worn fabric belongs to a
still later period. This is the only one remaining of the fifteen gates
with which the walls of Toledo appear to have been furnished during the
Mohammedan occupation.
The celebrated Puente de Alcantara, as it exists to-day, must be
regarded as the work of the Christians. It took the place of a
structure, built or restored by the Musulmans, and regarded by the
writers of their time and nation as one of the wonders of Spain.
According to an inscription on the bridge tower, the work dated from the
year 997 A.D., and was built by “Alif, son of Mohammed Al Ameri,
Governor of Toledo, under the great Wizir, Al Mansûr.” With it, no
doubt, were incorporated the remains of previous Gothic and Roman
constructions. It was almost entirely swept away in a great flood in the
year 1258, after having already undergone extensive repairs and
restorations since the Reconquest. Thus we may conclude that there can
be few if any traces of the Moorish bridge in the actual Puente de
Alcantara. On the other side of the town there was probably a wooden
bridge or bridge of boats, where the Puente de San Martin now spans the
river. A little below it is a brick tower, with open arches, the
horseshoe curve of which, and other features, bespeak its Moorish
origin. Legend places here the incident of the Bath of Florinda. In
later times the work was believed to be the remains of a bridge. But an
Arabic inscription, recently redeciphered and translated, goes to prove
that the tower formed part of a very different monument: “In the Name of
God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! Oh, men, believe that the promises
of God are certain and let not yourselves be seduced by the flattery of
the world, nor be lured away from God by the deceits of the Evil One!
This is the tomb of Hosàm (?)-ben-Abd ... [He confessed that there is no
other God but] God. He died [may God have mercy on him] ... the year
eight ... and four hundred.” The Baños de la Cava may now be safely
regarded as a Musulman sepulchral monument of the fifth century after
the Hegira.
We have now briefly considered the only monuments of interest to any but
the most ardent archæologists that can be ascribed, so far as their
general structure is concerned, to the Moslem lords of Toledo. Admitting
that the most important buildings of that time have long since
disappeared, it remains clear that the city could never have presented
the Oriental aspect of the Andalusian seats of Islam.
The history of the city as an independent State is soon told. Under
Ismail and his son Al Mamûn, Toledo became the most powerful Musulman
State in Spain. The lesser principalities having been disposed of, a
fierce struggle for supremacy was waged between Al Mamûn and the Amir
of Seville. A desperate battle before the walls of Murcia decided the
issue in favour of the Toledan, and gave Valencia into his hands. But,
as is often the case with men of all ranks, Al Mamûn’s strength and
wisdom were undone and rendered unavailing by his fatal trait of
magnanimity.
Alfonso of Leon, dispossessed of his kingdom by his brother, threw
himself upon the protection of the Amir of Tolaitola. The noble Muslim
bestowed upon the fugitive prince a palace near his own, an oratory, and
a garden “wherein to recreate himself”; and allowed him to establish a
miniature Court for himself and his followers at Brihuega. Lands were
assigned to him as a source of revenue, and he became the most intimate
and honoured friend of the Amir. It is said that in return an oath was
exacted of Alfonso that he would assist his host against all men, and
never war upon him or his son. That some such pledge should have been
asked for in return for such magnificent hospitality seems very
probable. The Archbishop Don Rodrigo relates that one day Al Mamûn found
himself with his most trusty counsellors in a wood from which a full
view of the city could be obtained. The Moorish sovereign fell to
discoursing upon the defences of the place and the best means of
attacking it. These words were overheard by Alfonso, who chanced to be
by, and who at once feigned sleep beneath a tree. Here he was presently
discovered by the Moors, to their great dismay. Some among them asked
leave of Al Mamûn to slay him. On this permission being indignantly
refused, they dropped hot lead on the Leonese prince’s hand to see if he
were really asleep. Alfonso did not stir, which would have convinced
most people that he was feigning sleep. The Muslims, on the contrary,
retired, satisfied that he had heard nothing and seen nothing.
Before returning to his kingdom, the Christian prince renewed his vows
of loyalty and friendship to Al Mamûn, with whom personally, indeed, he
never broke faith. The Moor’s son, Yahya, reaped the reward of the
father’s generosity. A weak and incapable sovereign, addicted to luxury
and despised for his devotion to superstitious practices, he was
detested by his own subjects, who on one occasion drove him out of the
city, to take refuge at Cuenca. His authority was restored only with the
help of his natural foes, the Castilians. Alfonso, unmindful of his vow,
forgetful of the dead Al Mamûn’s princely generosity, could not resist
this opportunity of adding to his dominions the old capital of the Kings
of Spain. For six years he laid waste the frontiers of the Amirate, and
in the seventh year--carefully availing himself, no doubt, of the
information unwittingly communicated by his old benefactor--invested
Toledo itself. Famine accomplished what arms could not, Yahya asked for
terms. They were onerous enough. They involved the cession of all the
Moorish King’s dominions, except Valencia, the Muslims who elected to
remain in Toledo being guaranteed the free exercise of their religion,
their property, and liberty. They were to be subject to their own laws
and tribunals and to retain their mosques. The terms, as remarks
Quadrado, were, in fact, almost the same as those granted to the
Christians by the Arabs three hundred and seventy years before. Only the
Alcazar, the bridges, gates, and the garden called the Huerta del Rey,
were reserved to Alfonso himself. The capitulation completed, Yahya and
his court took the road to Valencia, and Alfonso VI. entered Toledo by
the Bib-el-Mardom on Sunday, May 25, 1085.
“May God renew her past splendour, and inscribe once more the name of
Toledo on the list of the cities of Islâm!” This was the devout
aspiration of a Muslim chronicler, but in neither particular has it ever
been fulfilled.
TOLEDO THE CAPITAL OF CASTILE
The incorporation of the haughty city of the Visigoths with the kingdom
of Castile was, when the first wave of enthusiasm had subsided, regarded
with coldness and misgiving by its people. The Toledans were as
tenacious as ever of their peculiar customs and privileges which they
had hoped to maintain intact. Even with the powerful assistance of the
Cid, whom he appointed Alcalde, Alfonso found the ordering of the
affairs of his new capital a difficult and dangerous task. The
population included (remarks Don Jose Quadrado) “the conquered and
resigned Musulman, the Israelite ever submissive and industrious, the
Mozarabe ennobled by his ancient lineage and constancy in his faith, the
Castilian, proud of his conquests, the foreigner rewarded for his
prowess, or attracted from remote countries by signal privileges; and
this multiplicity of races and diversity of creeds demanded as many
separate systems of law and administrations.” The Jews, Musulmans and
foreigners continued subject to their own codes and tribunals; but while
the Mozarabe or native of Toledo clung to the old Fuero Juzgo or
Visigothic law, inherited from his fathers, the Castilians and Leonese
expected to be ruled according to the ruder, rougher code of their
warrior counts and kings. Alfonso dealt with these two peoples of common
race and language as with the other more widely distinct races. Each had
an Alcalde of its own, subject, however, to the Alcalde Mayor named by
the king. A compromise, too, was arrived at, the Castilians being
subject to their own law in civil cases, and to the Mozarabe in criminal
matters. On the whole, the tendency of these measures was to conciliate
the Toledans. But we find evidence of jealousies between them and their
conquerors or deliverers from the North for many years afterwards.
Alfonso’s honour had not gone unstained in regard to his taking the city
of his old friend and benefactor, and the Moors must have been sanguine
indeed if they looked forward to a scrupulous fulfilment of the pledges
given them by the conqueror while he was _outside_ the walls. The clause
that entitled the Muslims to the free and exclusive use of their mosques
was particularly obnoxious to the rabid ecclesiastics and crusaders who
accompanied the king. With increasing irritation they compared the noble
proportions of the Mohammedan mezquita with those of the humble
provisional Catholic Cathedral of Santa Maria de Alficem. While Alfonso
was absent in Leon, he left the city in charge of his queen, Constancia,
a Frenchwoman, and of her countryman, Bernard, now bishop, and formerly
a monk of Cluny. This prelate took advantage of his sovereign’s absence
to burst one night into the coveted mosque with an armed party, and
having “purified” it, suspended bells in the minarets, which announced
at dawn the celebration of the Christian rite. When word was brought to
the King of this infamous violation of the treaty, he set out for
Toledo, announcing his intention of burning the bishop alive. Moved
either by that magnanimity which in the person of Al Mamûn had
contributed to their downfall, or, as Spanish writers say, by a
far-seeing prudence, the Moors went out in a body to meet the monarch,
and besought him to forgive the highly placed thieves. Alfonso, with a
show of reluctance, acquiesced in their prayer, and the Christians were
most undeservedly confirmed in the possession of a church they had no
hand in creating. The Alfaqui, or headman of the Muslims, was
munificently rewarded for his generosity, his statue being placed in the
Capilla Mayor of the new cathedral, which was solemnly consecrated in
1087. No nation has shown a very nice sense of honesty in respect of
church property, yet it needs no subtle intelligence to perceive that a
church is as much the property of the particular sect for whose special
use it was designed by members of that sect, as any private house is of
its private owner.
The sturdy Toledans were attached, not only to their laws and customs,
but (which was of more importance in those days) to their own Gothic or
Mozarabic ritual. This differs in what are considered important
particulars from the Roman. The host is divided into nine parts,
representing the Incarnation, Epiphany, Circumcision, Passion, Death,
Resurrection, Ascension, and Eternal Kingdom of Christ. Of these
fragments, seven are arranged to form a cross. Because it is not Roman,
English writers are fond of extolling the beauty and simplicity of this
liturgy. It was a stumbling-block to Queen Constance and the zealous
French bishop, who were anxious to reduce all things in Spain to
Catholic uniformity. The King ordered the question to be decided by
ordeal of single combat. The Mozarabic champion remained the victor. The
bishop then demanded the ordeal of fire. The two missals were
accordingly thrown into a great blazing pile, and the local favourite,
having probably been saturated with some incombustible preparation,
remained unconsumed. Another version has it that neither book was
injured by the flames. Alfonso, after his fashion, clinched the
controversy by ordering the Mozarabic ritual to be confined to the two
parish churches allotted to the Christians by their Moorish rulers,
whilst everywhere else Mass was to be celebrated according to the Roman
office.
Alfonso VI. had to fight hard to keep possession of Toledo. The
Almoravide invasion had burst like a tidal wave over Southern Spain.
Everywhere the Musulmans were recovering their spirits and their
strength. The Castilian king fled, wounded, from the bloody field of
Zalaca, with only five hundred followers, leaving behind him twenty
thousand slain. Toledo could have had no pleasant associations for its
latest conqueror. Here died three of his _six_ wives--Constancia of
Burgundy, Isabel of France, and Zayda of Seville. At Ucles was slain his
only son, while yet a mere child. “Where is your prince?” asked the
unhappy father of the warriors escaped from the rout. “Where is the
light of my eyes and the staff of my age?” All were silent. “He is dead
and you live!” bitterly exclaimed the king. “Yes,” replied Alvar Fañez
sternly, “we live to save the throne, the country, and the lands
acquired with our blood and sweat.” But the Alcazar re-echoed to the
mournful plaint, “Sancho! Sancho, my son!” till Alfonso VI. passed away
in July 1109. The stones of which the church altars were built had
miraculously distilled tears in token of his approaching death. Before a
year had passed the Vega was blackened by the advancing hordes of Islam.
The Castle of Azeca, the monastery of San Servando, fell into their
hands; but the City of the Goths, thanks to the leadership of Archbishop
Bernard and of Alvar Fañez, hurled back the hosts of Ali and was held
fast for Spain.
The accession of Alfonso VII. el Batallador brought brighter days to his
capital, but it was assailed during the twelfth century with a
succession of calamities that might have broken down the patience of
Job. The year 1113 was marked by an earthquake and disastrous
overflowing of the Tagus; 1116, by a fire on a large scale; in 1117, the
price of wheat rose, to fourteen soldos the bushel; in 1168, the Tagus
was again in flood; again in 1181 and 1200; between 1187 and 1200, all
the grocery stores were burnt (how or why, we are not told), the Tagus
was frozen over in 1191, and there was a famine the following year.
Eclipses of the sun were of the commonest occurrence: we hear of them in
1114, 1162, 1177, 1191, and 1207. We can easily imagine the Mohammedan
denizens shaking their heads and ascribing these phenomena, especially
the last, to the change of government, and extolling the good old times
of Al Mamûn when earth, river, and sun kept their places and behaved
according to rule.
Yet Toledo flourished, and her citizens were never more in their element
than in the spring of the year 1212, when their town became the
rallying-point and base of the great crusading army, destined to achieve
the crowning mercy of the Navas de Tolosa. The dominant personality of
that time was the Archbishop Rodrigo Jimenez de Rada. A writer of
history, a valiant soldier, a sagacious statesman, princely in his
magnificence, and angelic in his charity, he was a tower of strength in
Spain, and especially for Toledo, in the dreadful years of famine and
brigandage that followed the victory over the Moor. His name will be for
ever remembered as practically the founder of the great cathedral which
is the city’s crowning glory and title to fame.
The century of floods, earthquakes, and eclipses passed away, and found
Toledo a hotbed of civil strife and internecine discord. As in Italian
cities at the same time, rival families and factions fought in the
streets, turned their houses into fortresses, and set the civic
authorities at defiance. The hidalgos of Toledo would hurry home from
warring with the infidel to plunge their swords into the bosoms of their
fellow townsmen. Laras and Castros waged pitched battles for the
possession of the capital of Castile. At last the royal power asserted
itself, and with terrible effect. We read that “the King Ferdinand came
to Toledo, and hanged many men and boiled others alive in cauldrons.
Era MCCLXII. (1224).” This boiler of his fellow men is known as _Saint_
Ferdinand. His father, Alfonso IX. of Leon, is also mentioned as having
broiled his rebellious subjects, and flayed others alive. But such
performances are not considered by a certain class of writers even now
to argue any real depravity of character.
The sainted king’s severity on another occasion is more creditable to
him. On his entry into the town, two young women threw themselves at his
feet and implored vengeance on their betrayer, Fernandez Gonzalo--the
Alcalde himself. The high rank of the offender did not save him from
instant decapitation, and his head was within an hour gazing down on the
scene of his amours from the Puerta del Sol. Whether the betrayed
damsels or any one else were benefited by these drastic measures, the
panegyrists of the righteous king forgot to tell us.
Still it was an age when strong measures were called for; and
recognising this, the citizens themselves instituted the famous Santa
Hermandad or Holy Brotherhood for the maintenance of public order and
suppression of brigandage. The organisation received the royal sanction,
and was endowed with many privileges. It supplied the place of a regular
police force for all Castile for at least three centuries, and readers
will remember the frequent references to it in the pages of “Don
Quixote.”
Toledo had not yet become a capital in the sense of being the permanent
residence of the sovereign. Saint Ferdinand and his immediate
predecessors and successors were essentially soldiers. Their Court was
the camp, and in the unremitting war of reconquest it was necessarily
transferred from place to place, from one confine of the ever-expanding
kingdom to the other. When at Toledo the king resided at the
Alcazar--which in Moorish days had been a fortress constructed of
_tapia_ (a species of concrete), and which was fortified with masonry by
Alfonso VI. The building was enlarged and embellished, and made more
suitable for a royal residence by Sancho el Bravo (1284-1295). But the
state of affairs in what may be termed the Epoch of the Reconquest
(1085-1252), was obviously not favourable to the development of the
building arts. Toledo possesses few memorials of these days, for such
edifices as may have been founded at or before that time have undergone
such transformations as to render them practically the products of later
ages. Such supplies and energies as were not absorbed by the
all-important business of war were naturally diverted to the building of
the cathedral, which was not, as we shall see, completed for another two
centuries.
Mediæval history concerns itself almost exclusively with kings and
princes, battles and treaties. Of the life of the people in Spain, as
elsewhere, we hear very little. From stray references in the records we
glean the information that the streets of Toledo were filthy and
unpaved, and frequently encumbered with the carcases of beasts. Over the
gates the heads of malefactors were ever rotting, poisoning the already
vitiated air. We have concise details, too, of no particular interest,
as to the municipal constitution of the city. Beyond this meagre
information, we know something of the history of Toledo only so far as
it was also the history of Spain.
Pedro I., the Cruel (1350-1368), had no liking for the gloomy, turbulent
town, and during his reign Seville might have been called the seat of
government. However much he may have endeared himself to the
Andalusians, the ferocious king was no favourite with the Toledans. When
the ill-used queen, Blanche of Bourbon, escaped from her prison in the
Alcazar and claimed the right of sanctuary in the cathedral, the city
rose in her behalf, and a thousand native blades sprung from their
scabbards to protect her. An alliance was concluded with Talavera and
Cuenca, and the gates opened to Don Enrique of Trastamara, the king’s
half-brother. It is said that Pedro’s faction held the bridge of San
Martin, expecting the rebel prince to enter that way, while his
supporters introduced his troops into the town by the opposite bridge of
Alcantara. The Trastamara partisans attacked the Jewish quarter, the
Israelites being especial favourites of Don Pedro, and a frightful
massacre ensued. Soon the king’s party gained the upper hand, and the
unfortunate Blanche was removed from the city, wherein she had found
such staunch friends, to the castle of Sigüenza.
This is not the first time we read of a massacre of Jews at Toledo. Yet
the town was for many centuries one of the strongholds of Jewry in
Europe, and a centre of Hebrew culture and activity. The story of the
Jews of Toledo is, in fact, one of the most interesting chapters in the
history of the city and of Spain.
Jews were settled in the Peninsula at a remote period. The author of
“The Moorish Empire in Europe” (S. P. Scott) thinks their arrival in
that country “antedated the Christian Era by at least a thousand years.”
As we know, legend actually ascribes the foundation of Toledo to the
race. This may, we think, be due to a confusion of the Israelites with
Phœnician settlers. At the time of Christ, the Jews of Spain were very
numerous and opulent. Another legend tells how their chief men addressed
a letter to the Sanhedrim at Jerusalem, protesting against the
Crucifixion. A document--altogether spurious, it need hardly be
said--has been produced in support of this story. After the destruction
of Jerusalem by Titus, there seems to have been a large influx of Hebrew
refugees into Spain. So long as the Visigoths remained Arians, they
remained tolerant; but Reccared, soon after his conversion to
Catholicism, levelled the severest enactments against the Israelites. He
set a bad precedent. With Sisebut began the long era of persecution. His
harsh edicts, forcing the Jews to choose between baptism and banishment,
are still to be found in the Fuero Juzgo. Swinthila, Kindila,
Recceswinth, Erwig, and Egica followed the same policy. Among the
tyrannical enactments of this time is the grotesque command that the
Jews of Toledo should eat pork! Under these circumstances it is not to
be wondered that the Spanish Jews beheld with dawning hope the
successful progress of the Mohammedans in Northern Africa. A secret
intelligence was established with these Semitic conquerors of a newer
faith, and thanks to the constant intercourse between the Jews of Africa
and those of Spain, Musa and Tarik were fully supplied with the most
minute particulars of the Visigothic State.
The period of the Khalifate was the Golden Age of Spanish Jewry. The
numbers of the race, depleted by persecution, were increased by the
advent of upwards of twelve thousand Yemenite Jews, invited by the
Moorish conquerors. Never since the days of Solomon had the Children of
Israel known such peace and prosperity. Possessed already of a
remarkably high degree of culture, they communicated their knowledge to
the Arabs, who showed themselves generous patrons and protectors. Nor
were the new rulers of Spain slow to perceive the advantages to be
derived from the subject race’s commercial enterprise and talent for
affairs. Though the versatility of the Jew at this time was one of his
most remarkable characteristics, it was above all as a physician that he
was esteemed by Muslims and Christians alike. In this capacity he became
the indispensable and most trusted companion of sovereigns and prelates,
and penetrated into the very arcana of power. From Court physician to
Minister the transition in those days of personal government was easy,
and we find Hasdai ben Isaac Ibn Shaprut occupying both positions under
Abd-ur-Rahman I.
As far as was consistent with their religious beliefs, the Jews of
Toledo assimilated themselves with the conquerors. The minutes of the
congregation were kept in Arabic down to the end of the thirteenth
century, and that language was sedulously cultivated and almost
exclusively employed by the brilliant succession of Jewish theologians
and humanists who made the city a centre of literary and scholastic
activity.
We have it on the authority of Mr. S. P. Scott that, under the Muslim
dominion, the Jews were allowed to elect a king, always a prince of the
House of Judah, “who, while not openly invested with the insignia of
royalty, received the homage and tribute of his subjects.” It is
illustrative of the respect of the race for learning that the erudite
Rabbi Moses, when recognised exposed as a slave at Cordoba, was
immediately elected to this dubious royalty.
The Jews of Toledo must have viewed with unpleasant apprehensions the
re-establishment of the Catholic monarchy. Yet at first it seemed they
had no cause for alarm. Alfonso VI., as we know, granted to them the
liberal privileges by which the Muslims also benefited. But in the
charter confirming the customs of the Mozarabes (1091) it was made plain
that no penalty would be exacted of a Christian for the murder of a Jew
or Muslim. The result might have been foreseen. Seventeen years after,
the people rose in savage fury, broke into the synagogues and butchered
the rabbis in their pulpits, burnt and pillaged every Jewish house, and
slaughtered the luckless objects of their animosity without mercy. But
it was the people, rather than the governing classes, who manifested
this violent racial prejudice. As in every other land, in spite of
persecution, the Chosen People grew in wealth and abated not their
industry and commercial activity. It was they who brought to the grim
Gothic city the choicest products of the East; they alone who could
combat the ravages of disease; they alone who could supply the needy
king and nobles with the coin for which in Italy men paid as much as one
hundred and twenty per cent. interest. Spain hated the Jew, but could
not as yet do without him.
The rule of Alfonso VI.’s successors could not have been excessively
harsh, for many Jewish families, hounded out of Southern Spain by an
unusual manifestation of Mohammedan bigotry, took refuge within the
walls of Toledo. Thanks to the influence of Fermosa, the Jewish mistress
of Alfonso VIII., many of her race exercised important functions at the
Court. But the fanatical temper of the populace attributed to the favour
shown these unbelievers the disaster of Alarcos, and the beautiful
favourite and her friends were murdered in the very presence of the
king.
“At the beginning of the thirteenth century,” says Mr. Joseph Jacobs,
B.A., in the “Jewish Encyclopædia,” “the Shushans, the Al-Fakhkhars, and
the Alnaquas, were among the chief Jewish families of Toledo, Samuel Ibn
Shushan being nasi [the chief of Sanhedrim] about 1204. His son built a
synagogue which attracted the attention of Abraham ben Nathan of Lunel,
who settled in Toledo before 1205. During the troubles brought upon
Castile by the men of ‘Ultrapuertos’ in 1211-12, Toledo suffered a riot;
and this appears to have brought the position of the Jews more closely
to the attention of the authorities. In 1219 the Jewish inhabitants
became more strictly subject to the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of
Toledo, who imposed upon every Jew over twenty years old an annual
poll-tax of one-sixth of a gold mark; and any dispute about age was to
be settled by a jury of six elders, who were probably supervised by the
nasi, at that time Solomon ben Joseph Ibn Shushan. In the same year
papal authority also interfered with the affairs of the Toledo Jews,
ordering them to pay tithes on houses bought by them from Christians,
‘as otherwise the Church would be a considerable loser.’”
A significant phrase! But not only houses and land all over the country
were mortgaged to the Jews, but also church plate and even the sacred
vessels. Jewish usurers were said to drink out of the chalices used for
the Precious Elements. The exasperation of the Christians was
disregarded by Alfonso X. the Learned, who entertained a profound
respect for the erudition and traditions of the Jews. A Hebrew, Don Zag
Ibn Said, directed the compilation of the famous Alfonsine Tables; and
under the patronage of the monarch, Toledo became famous for its
translations from the Arabic into Hebrew, Latin, and Spanish. The rabbis
distinguished themselves in medicine and astronomy. While doing his
utmost to draw the oppressed race within the fold of the Catholic
church, the Learned King granted permission to the Jews of Toledo to
erect that beautiful synagogue which, under the name of Santa Maria la
Blanca, ranks to-day among the national monuments of Spain.
“The Spanish Jews,” says Mr. Scott, “by reason of the peculiarities of
their situation, the hostility of their rulers--which their pecuniary
resources and natural acuteness often baffled, but never entirely
overcame--and their successive domination by races of different origin,
faith, and language, were impressed with mental peculiarities and
characteristics not to be met with in their brethren of other countries.
Their religious formalism was proverbial, and the Hebrew of Toledo
observed more conscientiously the precepts of the Pentateuch and Talmud
than the Hebrew of Damascus or Jerusalem.” Thus we find the Jews of
Toledo siding against the rationalising theories of the great
Maimonides, himself a native of Cordoba, and whose tomb is a conspicuous
landmark on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee.
Don Amador de los Rios reproduces an ancient record for the year 1290,
stating the amount of tribute payable by the various Jewish communities
of Castile. Out of a total of 2,801,345 maravedis the Israelites of the
city of Toledo contributed 216,500, and those in the entire archdiocese
1,062,902 maravedis. The pomp of Catholic public worship and the wealth
of the clergy are partially accounted for by these figures.
Up till then, always the most valuable (from a European point of view)
and the most prosperous element of the population of Toledo, the Jews
assumed yet greater prominence in the reign of Pedro I. That prince was
declared by his numerous enemies to be the substituted child of a
Jewess, and his Court was reviled as a Jewish Court. He showed favour to
the race in many ways. His treasurer and confidential adviser was the
famous Don Samuel Ha Levi. Whether or not the Jewish statesman’s
administration was in the interests of Castile, it is too late in the
day to say; but there can be no doubt that he was a loyal servant of his
king and a devoted friend of his own people. He it was who caused to be
erected Toledo’s other great synagogue, now called the Transito. He was
a warm ally of the beautiful Maria de Padilla, Pedro’s gentle mistress,
and for years, with consummate astuteness, defended himself against the
insidious and violent attacks of his innumerable enemies. His enormous
wealth--honestly or dishonestly acquired--brought about his downfall. In
the very year (1360) the synagogue was completed, Samuel was seized at
Seville, and, by order of the king, placed upon the rack. The haughty
Hebrew is said to have died of sheer indignation. Pedro shed crocodile
tears over his ill-starred Minister’s fate, and greedily confiscated his
property. His fortune was found to consist of 70,000 doubloons, 4000
silver marks, twenty chests filled with treasure, and eighty Moorish
slaves. The property of all Levi’s relatives was also forfeited to the
Crown, and was valued at 300,000 doubloons. Pedro did not, however,
withdraw his favour from the Jews as a race. It had been well for them
if he had. Their loyalty to the Bluebeard King earned for them the
detestation of the partisans of Enrique de Trastamara, and brought
about, as we have seen, the massacre of 1355, in which 1200 Jews
perished.
The new king, Enrique, took advantage of a riot said to have been
excited by the arrogance of the converted Jews in 1367, and in which
1600 houses were burnt to the ground, to impose a tribute of no less
than twenty thousand gold doubloons on the afflicted people.
It was possibly due to the presence of a large Israelite population that
Toledo, very much against its will, had been held for King Pedro in
1369. It was, in consequence, fiercely assailed by its own archbishop,
Don Gomez Manrique, while Pedro sent an army largely composed of
Saracens to its relief. The city was a prey to famine, internecine
warfare, pestilence, and to every description of calamity. The killing
of Pedro and the accession of Enrique were hailed as an ineffable boon
by the wretched citizens. But from that hour the position of the Jews
grew more and more pitiable. Their prosperity waned, and with it the
prosperity of the old city in which they had so long been unwelcome
guests.
Their final ruin as a community was effected mainly at the instance of
St. Vicente Ferrer, the Dominican. Visiting the city in 1391 he so
inflamed the devout populace with apostolic zeal that they burst into
the larger of the two Juderias or Ghettos, put practically the whole of
its inhabitants--including the venerable rabbis, Judah ben Asher and
Israel Alnaqua--to the sword, sacked the quarter from end to end, and
demolished most of the synagogues. The saintly Ferrer reappeared at
Toledo twenty years later, but there were nominally no Jews left to
massacre. The Hebrews that remained had been “converted.” The good friar
did what he could, and induced the Toledans to confiscate the synagogue
built in Alfonso X.’s reign and convert it into the Christian Church of
Santa Maria la Blanca. We suggest that it should have been renamed San
Vicente del Sangre.
The work of destruction was done thoroughly, and henceforward we hear
little in the story of Toledo of the Children of Israel. But their names
have not been altogether forgotten. Mr. Jacobs gives a long list of
members of that luckless congregation, famous for their learning and
science. He enumerates theologians, physicians, astronomers,
grammarians, satirists, poets and astrologers. Toledo, thanks to these
latter, achieved an unenviable reputation as a centre of the magic art.
Indeed, this was known at one time as the Arte Toledana. “It is said”
(we quote Mr. Jacobs) “that Michael Scott learned his magic from a
Toledo Jew named Andreas, who translated works on magic from the
Arabic.” The same writer elsewhere says: “The Spanish Jews differed but
little from the Christian population with regard to customs and
education. They were fond of luxury, and the women wore costly garments
with long trains, also valuable jewellery; this tended to increase the
hatred of the population towards them. They were quarrelsome and
inclined to robbery, and often attacked and insulted one another even in
their synagogues and prayer-houses, frequently inflicting wounds with
the rapier or sword they were accustomed to carry.” With royal
permission a Jew might have two wives.
Deprived of the more legitimate pastime of Jew-baiting, the Toledans
began to turn their swords against each other and their sovereign.
“Never,” remarks Gamero, “had the nobility shown itself so arrogant and
rebellious as during the reign of Juan II.” Envy of that great man and
powerful Minister, Don Alvaro de Luna, was mainly the cause of this. The
leading families took different sides, and the streets frequently were
slippery with the blood of the citizens. The Alcalde, Pero Lopez de
Ayala, declared against the great Constable and held the town as an
independent seigneurie against the king’s forces for five years. King
Juan had deserved better things of his lieges of Toledo, for in 1431 he
had entertained them on his return from his campaign in Andalusia with
festivities and pageants of the gayest character. The people took part
in bull fights and games in the Zocodover, while the knights and
_ricoshombres_ jousted and feasted in the Vega. The Alcazar re-echoed to
the music of lute and lyre, and the songs of the minstrels. But Toledo
was not to be subdued with kindness. The artisan class presently
revolted on the imposition of a new tax, the tumult being the occasion
of the saying, _Soplara il odrero, y alborozarse la Toledo_ (Let the
ironmonger blow and Toledo will rise). Next, the cruel and miserly
governor, Pedro Sarmiento, followed Ayala’s example, and demanded of the
king the dismissal of the noble Constable. The royal forces were set at
defiance, and a pitched battle was fought below the walls. The fortune
of the day remained with the rebels, and Sarmiento was able for a time
to dictate to his sovereign. He was at last crushed, but was able to
carry off an enormous amount of treasure loaded on two hundred mules.
These events had produced a permanent feud between the families of Ayala
and Silva, only terminated by the marriage of the heir and heiress of
the respective houses. Toledo, during the first three-quarters of the
fifteenth century, was a prey to incessant warfare. Sometimes the whole
town would be contending against external foes for or against the king,
sometimes it would be the nobles contending with the people, or the
church with the nobles. Toledo, as a whole, supported its archbishop,
Carrillo, when in 1465 he pronounced sentence of dethronement on Enrique
IV. Three years later that unlucky monarch managed, by winning over the
Ayalas to his side, to make his entry into the city. The proud chief of
the family was himself obliged to flee from the town in 1471. The king
was besieged in the Alcazar; the balance inclined sometimes to this
party, sometimes to that. The old animosities between the Ayalas and
the Silvas blazed up again from time to time; and under its weak
sovereign Toledo had its fill of fighting. But those brave days were
drawing to a close, and in 1474, came one before whom even Toledans had
to bend the knee and whom, recognising in her a stronger spirit, they
afterwards delighted to honour. The accession of Isabel the Catholic on
the death of Enrique IV., and to the exclusion of the rightful heiress,
Juana, calumniously nicknamed La Beltraneja, marks the beginning of a
new era in the history of Spain, and therefore of Toledo.
BUILDINGS OF THE CASTILIAN PERIOD
The earliest specimens of post-Moorish architecture in Toledo partake
more or less of the character of fortifications. For many years, as we
have seen, after the Reconquest the Christians’ hold upon the city was
precarious, and the first efforts of the Castilian kings was naturally
towards strengthening its defences. The history of the walls of Toledo
is obscure and confused; but it seems certain that a wall has always
extended within historic times across the northern side of the loop
formed by the river. The Conqueror Alfonso VI. strengthened and added to
this defence by the erection of the newer or outer wall, inclosing the
suburb or Arrabal del Antequeruela. He also appears to have restored the
inner or Moorish wall, and has left traces on the magnificent Puerta del
Sol, a Moorish work which must have been quite new in his day. Indeed,
it may possibly have been built by Moorish masons after the Reconquest.
It is a noble and impressive portal to the grand old city, and most
powerfully impresses the beholder. Quadrado will have it that so
dignified a monument can have been the work only of a ruling race, in
the days of its liberty and glory; it could not have been the mere
afterglow of the ascendency and taste of a nation now subjugated. We
may, however, be permitted to doubt whether the political decadence of a
people becomes _instantly_ manifested in its artistic life. The gateway
forms a high tower with two flanking turrets, one square and abutting on
the wall, the other rounded and finishing off the _enceinte_. The portal
is composed of a succession of four arches, all being of the horseshoe
shape, though the outer arches are more pointed than the inner ones.
Above the outermost arch is a double row of arcades of brickwork, the
arches intersecting. Over the second arch is a circular medallion in
relief, representing the Virgin offering the chasuble to St. Ildefonsus.
Another relief in marble is supposed to represent the summary punishment
of Fernan Gonzalez by St. Ferdinand, for the seduction of two young
women. The battlements are of a type common enough in Spanish Christian
architecture, but which Mr. Street thinks was derived originally from
the Moors. Another writer, Mr. O’Shea, remarks: “This gate with its warm
orange tints, that contrast so admirably with the lapis-lazuli azure of
the cloudless sky, its battlement fringing the top, and opening vistas
of most novel aspect, is a treasure for an artist.” The exceeding
quaintness and majesty of this gateway have moved many writers to
express themselves almost too rapturously. Toledo’s other gates--the
Puerta Nueva de Visagra and the Puerta del Cambrón--date from a much
later period.
The rude, dismantled pile of the Castle of San Servando, which crowns
the height opposite to the Bridge of Alcantara, marks the site of a
monastery, erected by Alfonso VI. in gratitude for his escape from the
rout of Sacralias (1086). It was peopled by Benedictines from Sahagun
and Cluny. These holy men soon found by the defensive works with which
their new home was provided that their duties would not be entirely of a
clerical description. Yusuf-ben-Tashfin, the Almoravide leader, almost
destroyed the building during his abortive siege of Toledo, and Alfonso
subsequently gave the establishment the aspect and features of a
fortress. As such it bore the brunt of the repeated Saracen onslaughts
in the first half of the twelfth century. It was abandoned in
consequence by the monks, and was bestowed by Alfonso VIII. on the
Knights Templars. It continued in their possession till the suppression
of the Order in 1312. It seems to have fallen into ruins soon after, and
was rebuilt about 1386, on the initiative of the great archbishop,
Tenorio. It is not a very interesting monument. It is built of masonry,
with facings of red brick here and there. Three of its four sides are
standing, and the same number of towers. These bear a resemblance to the
outer or circular tower of the Puerta del Sol. The windows and arches
exhibit Moorish, or rather Mudejar, influence. The castle in its day
must have been a fine specimen of the mediæval stronghold. To-day its
ruin is complete. It serves as a home to the owl and the bat, and the
very ghosts of monks and templars seem to have deserted it as
uninhabitable.
The castle is referred to by Calderon and other writers, and seems at
one time to have been a favourite spot for duels.
The increased importance of Toledo as the capital of Castile
necessitated the improvement of its communications with the outside
world. The Bridge of Alcantara was, at the time of the Reconquest, the
only permanent traject across the Tagus, and the bridge of boats on the
western side of the town having been swept away, Alfonso X. (1252-1289)
decreed the construction of a stone bridge now known as the Puente de
San Martin. It was built of five arches and lasted till the reign of
Pedro I., when it was blown up by that king’s partisans to obstruct the
entry of Enrique de Trastamara. It continued in a practically demolished
condition for twenty years, when the great archbishop, Pedro Tenorio,
determined to restore the missing arches at his own expense. It is said
that the architect entrusted with the work found, to his dismay, the
night before the day fixed for the opening, that, owing to some
oversight in his calculations, the whole fabric would collapse on the
removal of the scaffolding. He made known the cause of his anxiety to
his wife; and she rose at dead of night, and setting fire to the whole
structure preserved her husband’s reputation and, not impossibly, his
life. The reconstructed bridge was, of course, without fault or flaw. A
final reconstruction took place in 1690. On the town side, the Puente de
San Martin is defended by two square towers. Above the archway are two
inscriptions relating to the works executed by order of Charles II. The
further extremity of the bridge is defended by another square
battlemented tower with a horseshoe arch. Its two bridges are among the
most picturesque features of Toledo.
With the obvious exception of the cathedral, the most interesting
monuments of what we may term the middle age of Toledo are the two
synagogues, now styled Santa Maria la Blanca and El Transito. The Jews,
as we have seen, everywhere loom large in the annals of Toledo.
The first-named of these temples derives its actual name from a
tradition that a Christian church occupied the site in Visigothic times,
to account for the dedication of which a legend is repeated similar to
that of Santa Maria ad Nives at Rome. It is situated on what was once
the Jewry or Ghetto, on the western side of the city, not far from the
Puente de San Martin. Its foundation--as a synagogue--is variously
ascribed to the period of the Reconquest, to the last days of the
Moorish dominion, and to the latter period of the Khalifate. The first
date seems the most probable. It continued to be used for the Jewish
worship till 1405, when, as has been already told, it was seized and
converted into a Catholic church. It has long since become a merely
secular monument. The exterior, approached through the most miserable
and sordid neighbourhood, is very far from reflecting the splendour the
Jews enjoyed at its foundation. The façade, mean and dilapidated like
the rest of the exterior, is probably of much more recent construction
also. Within, a strange, fantastic impression is created. The phrase,
“How are the mighty fallen!” involuntarily rises to the lips as one
contemplates the traces of grandeur and elegance subsisting amid ruin
and decay. The temple is symbolical of the race: exotic, reminiscent of
a lost glory, depressed, oppressed. There is, however, no trace or
suggestion of the primitive Hebrew architectural style about the
building. The traditions of Jerusalem were either unknown to, or had
been forgotten by, those who reared these walls--likely enough Moors,
whose skill was always at the disposal of Christian and Jew. In fact,
the synagogue may be taken as a fine example of late Saracenic work. The
plan consists of a nave with two aisles on each side. The nave was
prolonged in the seventeenth century so as to form a chancel. The
building is 81 feet long by 63 feet wide. The nave reaches to a height
of 60 feet, and is 15 feet broad, while the aisles measure only 12 feet
and rise from 40 to 50 feet high. The nave and aisles are separated by
four rows of octagonal columns, from which spring bold horseshoe arches
of the true Moorish type. The capitals are of stucco and elaborately
designed with floral devices, in which the fir-cone is conspicuous;
there is a vague suggestion of Byzantine influence. Mr. Street imagines
them to be much later than the original capitals which they overlay.
“All the Moorish decorative work seems to have been executed in the same
way in plaster. This was of very fine quality, and was evidently cut and
carved as if it had been stone, and seldom, if ever, I think, stamped or
moulded, according to the mistaken practice of the present day. The
consequence is that there is endless variety of design everywhere
and--wherever it was desired--any amount of undercutting. The spandrels
above the arches are filled in with arabesque patterns, and there is a
cusped wall arcade below the roof.” All this stucco work appears to date
from about the time of Alfonso X., or perhaps from a later restoration.
Above the nave is an exquisite frieze in low relief, formed of lines
interlacing and crossing each other. The roof is of pine-wood, and _not_
of Lebanon cedar, as at one time alleged. Mr. Street thinks “the
pavement is very good, but must be about the date of the conversion of
the synagogue into a church. It is divided into compartments by border
tiles laid down the length of the church on either side of the columns.
The spaces between them are filled in with a rich diaper of encaustic
and plain red tiles, whilst the general area between these richer bands
is paved with large red, relieved by an occasional encaustic, tiles. The
latter have patterns in white, dark blue, and yellow, and in all cases
they are remarkable for the beautiful inequality of the colours of the
surface of the design. Both colour and material are in themselves better
than the work of our tile manufacturers of the present day and
illustrate very well the difference between hand-work and machinework.”
The Catholics added three altars in the plateresque style, which, it is
unnecessary to say, do not harmonise with the rest of the edifice. One
of the retablos is attributed to Berruguete.
Comparing this old Jewish meeting-place with the other and later
synagogue, Miss Hannah Lynch remarks: “As a religious temple, as the
expression of solemn worship rooted in the strange and mysterious East,
the former is by far the more imposing, the more earnest and harmonious.
Prayer in the _Transito_ seems a matter of graceful and artistic
dilettanteism; here it appears a great racial cry of the soul.”
The later vicissitudes of this synagogue are curious. About the middle
of the sixteenth century it was converted by Cardinal Siliceo into an
asylum for the professional frail ones of Toledo; but about half a
century later the establishment ceased to exist--whether because there
was no more frailty in Toledo or no more repentance, we are not told.
Subsequently it was turned into a barracks, and then (O’Shea says) into
a dancing-hall.
The Transito (so called after the Transit of the Blessed Virgin, _i.e._,
the Assumption) is situated in the same quarter. We have already told
the story of its foundation by Samuel Ha Levi, the powerful treasurer of
Pedro I. Upon the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492, it was
handed over to the Order of Calatrava, who dedicated it to St. Benedict
(San Benito). This synagogue is also purely Moorish in style, but of the
later or Granadan period. Its plan differs radically from that of Santa
Maria la Blanca. It constitutes a parallelogram, undivided into naves
and aisles, 76 feet by 31 feet, and 44 feet high. The effect is simple
and graceful. The side walls are quite plain up to the height of about
twenty feet, where a broad frieze of stucco runs round the building,
with floral and star pattern designs, and bordered by inscriptions in
Hebrew. Above this is an arcade with double shafts, and extremely rich
capitals. The arches are of the horseshoe form, cusped into seven
points. Eight of the arches contain lattice-work of the most beautiful
design. Indeed, the whole of the arcading is rich and graceful beyond
all praise. The western wall, where was formerly the Rabbinical chair,
and is now the altar, is profusely decorated with patterns,
inscriptions, and coats of arms, down to within seven feet of the floor.
In the opposite wall windows have been pierced, breaking into the
frieze. The roof is of cedar, and a fine specimen of _artesonado_ work.
Across it run tie-beams, superfluous in this case, but of which the
Moorish builders were fond. The rafters slope down equally to a deep
cornice, which is carried right across the angles, “so as to give
polygonal ends to the roof.”
On either side of the altar are long Hebrew inscriptions now illegible,
and the precise meaning of which has been a subject of fierce and
perpetual controversy. The text on the Epistle side may be translated:
“The mercies which God hath shown us, raising up amongst us judges and
princes to deliver us from our enemies and oppressors.... And we of this
land have built this house with a strong and mighty arm. The day that it
was built was great and delightful for the Jews, who, attracted by the
fame of these things, came from the ends of the earth to see ... if a
ruler should be given us who should be as a tower of strength ... to
govern our commonwealth.... And there was raised up to help us, Samuel
[Levi,] and God was with him and with us, and who found for us grace and
mercy. He was a man of peace, powerful among all the people, and a great
builder. These things were accomplished in the reign of the King Don
Pedro; may God be his helper, enlarge his dominions, prosper him and
succour him, and place his seat over all princes. May God be with him
and all his house, and may every man be humbled before him ... and let
those who hear his name rejoice to hear it in all the Kingdoms, and let
it be manifest that he has been unto Israel a defender and a shield.”
The inscription on the Gospel side proclaims the Rabbi Myir Abdali as
the architect and extols his pre-eminent virtues, and pathetically
celebrates the return of good and prosperous times--times not destined
to last for the luckless race!
In the neighbourhood of the synagogue exists the skeleton of the palace
built by the great Jewish treasurer. It afterwards passed into the hands
of the Marquises of Villena, and is associated with Don Enrique de
Aragon, uncle of Juan II., a very interesting personality. He was a man
of vast learning, and was, probably in consequence, reputed to be a
magician and in league with the Evil One. Indeed, his magnificent
library, including his own writings, was, in after years, burnt by order
of the Inquisition. Beneath the mansion are still to be found various
subterranean chambers, which popular superstition declares to have been
the scene of Don Enrique’s conferences with Satan and his satellites.
This necromancer was indeed Marquis of Villena, but it is by no means
certain that he inhabited this house, which afterwards became the
property of another family (the Pachecos), on whom the title was
conferred by Enrique IV. The palace was deliberately burnt by its owner,
the Duque de Escalona, in the reign of Charles V., it having been
contaminated, as he thought, by the temporary residence within its walls
of the Constable de Bourbon, then in arms against his own country. The
Castilian grandee’s sense of honour was not a mere pose. The building is
now the property of the Marquis de la Vega, who has tastefully restored
it. It receives additional interest from its having been, as is now
believed, the home of El Greco.
Two ruinous structures are pointed out as the palaces of Don Pedro and
of Enrique de Trastamara respectively. The latter probably belonged to
one of the Counts of Trastamara, not to the king who bore that title. It
is in the Moorish style, with horseshoe arches, friezes, and _ajimeces_.
The so-called palace of Don Pedro is of the same class of architecture,
but has much less to show--a horseshoe arch, a dado, and an almost
illegible Arabic inscription which reads, “Lasting glory and perpetual
prosperity to the master of this house.”
Better examples of the Mudejar (or late Moorish) style are the Casa del
Mesa and the Taller del Moro. The former is situated close to the church
of San Román, and was built soon after the Reconquest by that prominent
Toledan, Esteban Illán. The saloon is one of the very best examples of
this style of architecture. It is 60 feet long by 22 feet wide, and 36
feet high. The artesonado ceiling is thus described by Street: “The
patterns are formed by ribs (square in section) of dark wood with a
white line along the centre of the soffit of each. The sides of the ribs
are painted red, and the recessed panels have lines of white beads
painted at their edges, and in the centre an arabesque on a dark blue
ground. The colours are so arranged as to mark out as distinctly as
possible the squares and patterns into which it is divided, and the
sinking of some panels below the others allows the same pattern to be
used for borders and grounds with very varied effect. The reds are
rather crimson in tone, and the blues very dark.” The entrance--of a
slightly horseshoe pattern--is framed in exquisite and luxuriant
traceries. So also is the opposite _ajimez_ window, but here the designs
show Gothic influence. A high dado of _azulejos_ and a very deep cornice
and frieze of delicate workmanship complete the decoration of this very
beautiful hall.
The Taller del Moro is (quite without foundation) said to occupy the
site of the massacre of the _Noche Toledana_. It was so called because
it was used as a workshop during the building of the cathedral. There is
a conflict of opinion as to its age, but it probably dates from about
the time of the Reconquest. The Arabic inscriptions, however, imply that
it was intended for the habitation of a Moor, the Latin texts being
doubtlessly added by later owners. The Taller consists of a large hall,
54 feet long by 23 feet wide, and of two adjacent smaller apartments. It
exhibits the artesonado ceiling, the delicate stucco-work and friezes
with star-like and floral designs we are led to expect in specimens of
Mudejar architecture. Street doubts if the stucco-work dates further
back than 1350. The portal is in good Gothic style, and was added by
Cardinal Mendoza.
As in all other Spanish cities, after their reacquisition by the
Christians, in Toledo, for many, many years, Moorish architects and
masons continued to be employed even in the construction of sacred
edifices. This accounts for the mixed Christian and Saracenic style of
several of the churches, even where these had not originally been
mosques. The interesting church of San Román had been a Mohammedan
temple remodelled to the requirements of Christian worship, while the
tower or steeple is a Mudejar work added by Esteban Illán, and (to quote
Mr. Street), “the finest example of its class to be seen here.” The
steeple is of rough stone and brick, of a warm brown tone, and quite
plain for more than half its height. The upper stages are pierced with
windows which exhibit a very ungraceful trefoiled variation of the
horseshoe arch--then fast dying out. Notwithstanding, the steeple has a
noble and rugged appearance, like most things Toledan. The church itself
has been so often restored, that it is hard to assign it to any one
epoch. The Capilla Mayor is of the sixteenth century, and of the
plateresque style. One of the altars has a front of black stone, carved
at the edges in imitation of an altar-cloth with embroidery and lace.
Here and there traces may be detected of the original mosque. The
steeples of the churches of Santa Magdalena, Santo Tomé, San Pedro
Martir, San Miguel, Santa Leocadia, and La Concepcion, resemble that of
San Román, but differ greatly in size.
The minor churches of Toledo are not specially interesting. Without the
walls, however, is one with noteworthy characteristics. The little
“basilica” of the Cristo de la Vega occupies the site of the famous
church of St. Leocadia, built by the Visigothic King, Sisebuth, in the
seventh century, to mark the place of the virgin saint’s martyrdom.
Several of the great councils were held here. The story is told that the
saint appeared in person here to St. Ildefonso, in the presence of King
Recceswinth, and having expressed her satisfaction at the theologian’s
masterly defence of the virginity of the Blessed Virgin, allowed him,
with the royal dagger, to cut off a piece of her veil as a souvenir of
her visit. This event naturally raised the “basilica” in the estimation
of the devout. It was demolished by the Moors, and restored in 1162. It
underwent many restorations and was finally ruined by the French during
the War of Independence. The present edifice represents little more than
the apse of the chapel of the Cristo de la Vega. There was a miraculous
crucifix, attached to which is a particularly silly legend. Two lovers
had plighted their troth before the image, and the man afterwards denied
the promise. The girl adjured the Christ to bear witness to the truth of
her statement, and the figure obligingly extended a wooden arm while a
voice from on high proclaimed, “_I testify._” Another version has it
that the figure testified in favour of a Christian who (_mirabile
dictu_) had lent money to a Jew; and yet another, that it expressed
approbation of the magnanimity of a cavalier who had pardoned his enemy
under extraordinary circumstances. Whatever it may have done, the
crucifix has long since disappeared. An Arabic inscription deduces that
Mohammed ben Rahman, first King of Toledo, was buried here, A.D. 743. As
there was no king in the city of that year, and as the first independent
sovereign was otherwise named, the inscription must be apocryphal or
else the word “king” must signify in the original merely _Vali_ or
governor.
A legend, better known and rather less silly than that of the Cristo de
la Vega, deals with the love affairs of an imaginary Moorish princess,
called Galiana “la mora mas celebrada de toda la moreria,” the daughter
of an equally mythical king, called Galafre. _He_ is linked up with
history by some writers alleging him to have been the nephew of the
wicked Count Julian, Galiana was the apple of her parent’s eye, and for
her delectation he built a palace abounding in all conceivable delights.
The young lady had, in some way, compromised herself with a gigantic
Moor, Bradamante by name; and to rid her of this truculent wooer, no
less a personage than Charlemagne appeared on the scene. All, of course,
ended happily (except for Bradamante) by the conversion of the lovely
princess and her marriage to the gallant Frank. In the Puerta del Rey,
outside the town, may still be seen a building dilapidated, let out in
tenements, which is pointed out as the Palace of Galiana. The place was
a mansion of the great Guzman family and exhibits traces of fine Moorish
work--horseshoe arches, twin-windows, a defaced inscription or two, some
tiling, and arabesques--enough, in short, to conjure up a splendid
Moorish palace, which, however, need not have antedated the Reconquest.
The building is the property of H.I.M. the Empress Eugénie, and it is
somewhat to be regretted that her attention has not been directed to its
present condition and to the chance here presented of retarding the
decay of a valuable monument of antiquity.
THE CATHEDRAL
Transcending in importance all the other monuments of Toledo and,
indeed, of Castile, is the Cathedral--one of the noblest specimens of
Gothic architecture the world affords. The metropolitan church of Spain,
it is sumptuous without gaudiness, austere without gloominess, admirably
interpreting the spirit of Spanish Catholicism before it withered under
the chilling influence of Philip II. and the Inquisition. The Cathedral
of Toledo does not impress the foreigner as typically national. Indeed
it corresponds no longer to the temper of the nation. And it was raised
as a protest against those Moorish influences which have passed into the
life and art of Spain, and without which nothing can be taken as
representatively Spanish.
The Cathedral of Toledo, then, is Gothic, and may be said to embody the
ideals of old Spain--of the young fighting nation that looked forward,
not backward. Splendid as the Mosque seized by Archbishop Bernard and
converted to Christian uses may have been, it was the work of the
infidel. In 1227 King Ferdinand III. and the Archbishop Don Rodrigo de
Rada were able at last to give effect to a determination arrived at some
years before; and on August 14 the first stone of a new temple, which
should never have been contaminated by Muslim rites, was laid with
solemn ceremony. The name of the architect continues to be a matter of
controversy. An epitaph in the sacristy of the Capilla de los Doctores
affords some clue to his identity. It runs as follows:
Agni: jacet: Petrus Petri: magister
Eclesia: Scte: Marie: Toletani: fama:
Per exemplum: pro more: huic: bona:
Crescit: qui presens: templum: construxit
Et hic quiescit: quod: quia: tan: mire:
Fecit: vili: sentat: ire: ante: Dei:
Vultum: pro: quo: nil: restat: multum:
Et sibi: sis: merce: qui solus: cuncta:
Coherce: obiit: x dias de Novembris:
Era: de M: et CCCXXVIII (A.D. 1290).
“Petrus Petri” is interpreted by Spanish writers “Pedro Perez,” but we
incline to Mr. Street’s view that the correct rendering is probably
Pierre le Pierre, the architect having been, as the name implies, a
Frenchman. “This, at any rate,” continues Mr. Street, “is certain: the
first architect of Toledo, whether he were French or Spanish, was
thoroughly well acquainted with the best French churches, and could not
otherwise have done what he did. In Spain, there was nothing to lead
gradually to the full development of the Pointed style. We find, on the
contrary, buildings, planned evidently by foreign hands, rising suddenly
without any connection with other buildings in their own district, and
yet with most obvious features of similarity to works in other countries
erected just before them. Such is the case with the cathedrals at
Burgos, at Leon, and at Santiago, and such even more decidedly is the
case here. Moreover, in Toledo, if anywhere, was such a circumstance to
be expected. In this part of Spain there was in the thirteenth century
no trained school of native artists. Even after the conquest the Moors
continued to act as architects for Christian buildings whether secular
or ecclesiastical, and, indeed, to monopolise all the art and science of
the country which they no longer ruled. In such a state of things I can
imagine nothing more natural than that, though the Toledans may have
been well content to employ Mohammedan art in their ordinary works, yet,
when it came to be a question of rebuilding their cathedral on a scale
vaster than anything which had as yet been attempted, they would be
anxious to adopt some distinctly Christian form of art; and lacking
entirely any school of their own, would be more likely to secure the
services of a Frenchman than one of any other nation.... But however
this may have been, the church is thoroughly French in its ground-plan
and equally French in all its details for some height from the ground;
and it is not until we reach the triforium of the Choir that any other
influence is visible; but even here the work is French work, only
slightly modified by some acquaintance with Moorish art....”
The stupendous fabric, once begun, whether by French or Spanish hands,
took two hundred and sixty-six years to finish. From the death of the
first architect in 1270 to the year 1425 the names of the architects
have been lost. During this period, the successive styles of
architecture naturally influenced the original scheme and found
expression in the building. It was in January 1493 that the roof was
finished and the main structure completed. Certain chapels, such as the
Reyes Nuevos, Sagrario, &c., were later additions. Among the later
architects we find Rodrigo Alfonso, Alvar Gomez, Martin Sanchez, and
Juan Guas. The stone employed inside (according to O’Shea) was quarried
at Oliguelas, some nine miles from the city. It becomes harder with age.
“The external portion is all of Berroqueña stone, save the ornamentation
of the portals, which is also of Oliguelas white stone.”
The Cathedral forms an oblong, semicircular at the eastern end, and
lying east and west. In width it is exceeded only by the Cathedrals of
Milan and Seville, measuring 178 feet broad by 395 feet long. On the
north side are the cloisters and additional chapels and sacristies. From
the eastern side project the chapels of the Reyes Nuevos, San Ildefonso,
and Santiago, and the Winter Chapter-room. The plan of the interior is
easy of comprehension. The nave extends from the western entrance to the
Capilla Mayor: on either side of it are two aisles which are continued
round and behind this chapel in a semicircular sweep. Street extols the
skill with which this arrangement has been carried out. Between the
Choir and the Capilla Mayor a transept extends across the church, not
projecting, however, beyond the outer walls of the farther aisles. The
eighty-eight pillars which support the fabric and mark off these
divisions are composed each of from eight to sixteen light columns,
standing on the same base. The capitals are moulded in plain foliage.
The arches resting on these pillars make up the seventy-two vaults of
which the roof is composed. The aisles rise gradually in towards the
central nave, which is 116 feet high. The crypt or substructure
corresponds in its divisions and the number of its piers to the edifice
above. The pavement is of bluish white marble arranged in chequers.
In the original plan no side-chapels appear to have been contemplated.
But the chapel of Santa Lucia was added by Archbishop de Rada in memory
of Alfonso VI. And, in addition to chapels built since the rest of the
church, the spaces between the buttresses in the outer aisles have been
railed off so as to form twenty-three chapels of various styles and
periods. The interior is lit by 750 stained-glass windows of rich hues
that delight the spectator. They depict episodes from the Scriptures,
and are said to have been as carefully designed as if intended for close
inspection. Among the artists were Dolfin (1418), De Vergara, Albert of
Holland, Maese Cristobal, Juan de Campos, Vasco Troya, and Pedro
Francés. The effect of the light falling in rays of richest colour on
the pavement and columns is magical. The walls are denuded of colour and
rudely whitewashed.
The centre of the Cathedral is occupied by the choir (_Coro_), to the
east of which, separated by the transept, is the Capilla Mayor. The
choir is enclosed by walls and cloisters, except on the side facing the
Capilla Mayor, where it is railed in by the magnificent reja, designed
by Domingo de Cespedes and Hernando Bravo (1548). Like the corresponding
railing of the High Chapel opposite, this work was formerly heavily
silver-plated and gilded, but at the time of the French invasion it was
recoated with iron to secure it from spoliation. Unfortunately, no
means have yet been discovered of restoring the reja to its original
state. Among the elaborate ornamentation may be noticed the arms of
Cardinal Siliceo and of the Ayala family, with the interwoven
inscriptions _Procul esto prophani_ and _Psale et psile_. The Choir is
paved with white marble inlaid with dark. The vaulting above the Choir
itself rises to the height of a hundred feet, the aisle round it to
ninety feet, and the outer aisle to thirty-five feet. In the outer aisle
are small chapels placed between the buttresses. Mr. Street describes
this part of the building in great detail and considers that the
original scheme of the Cathedral is only to be seen here. The triforium,
formed of an arcade of cusped arches, in the outer wall of the inner
aisle exhibits Moorish influence. “It would be impossible,” writes the
authority just mentioned, “to imagine any circumstance which could
afford better evidence of the foreign origin of the first design than
this slight concession to the customs of the place in a slightly later
portion of the works. An architect who came from France, bent on
designing nothing but a French church, would be very likely, after a few
years’ residence in Toledo, somewhat to change in his views, and to
attempt something in which the Moorish work, which he was in the habit
of seeing, would have its influence. The detail of this triforium is,
notwithstanding, all pure and good....”
The Choir is enriched by a magnificent screen, lecterns, and stalls. The
screen, or _respaldo_, which at one time seems to have been continued
right across the transept, encloses the Choir on three sides, and
consists of an arcade carried on fifty-two columns of jasper and marble,
and supporting and enclosing admirable statuary and sculpture. Above the
capitals of the columns is a series of fifty-six medallions in high
relief, dating from 1380, and representing scenes from the Old
Testament. These reliefs are worthy of close study, and are beautiful
examples of simple and faithful mediæval treatment. The series is
supplemented by a medallion with a bust by Berruguete and the statues of
Innocence and Sin, by Nicolas de Vergara--works on which Street outpours
the vials of his wrath.
Of the wonderful Choir Stalls of Toledo everyone has heard. They are
unsurpassed triumphs of the carver’s art. The lower tier, including
fifty seats, is the work of Maese Rodrigo, and dates from 1495. The
stalls are of walnut wood, and the carving portrays the campaign against
Granada by the Catholic Sovereigns. The carving being almost
contemporary with the events illustrated has given these reliefs an
historical as well as an artistic value. The names of the fortresses
are here and there indicated by labels, and the designs are somewhat
marred by the introduction of fanciful monsters. The whole breathes very
much of the mediæval spirit, and we can, therefore, hardly complain of a
certain stiffness and lack of variety. They form an admirable contrast
to the finer, more finished work of the upper tier of stalls, executed
fifty years later by Berruguete and Philip of Burgundy, surnamed
Vigarni. Thirty-five seats, including the Primate’s, are the work of the
Spaniard, the thirty-six opposite exhibiting the skill of the
Burgundian. “They were wrought,” says O’Shea, “in rivalry of each other,
and finished in 1543; and as Cardinal Tavera’s inscription runs:
‘Certaverunt turn artificum ingenia; certabunt semper spectatorum
judicia.’” The stalls are placed in recesses of alabaster, and separated
by fine red jasper columns, with capitals in white marble. Over the
recesses is a series of alabaster figures in low relief of the prophets
and patriarchs. The carvings on the stalls themselves depict episodes
from both the New and Old Testaments. The work breathes the spirit of
the Renaissance, interpreted by Berruguete and his colleague with a
skill, it has been truly observed, worthy of Benvenuto Cellini himself.
Berruguete was a pupil of Michelangelo. His work is more vigorous than
that of Vigarni, who excels in elegance and softness of outline.
Street’s denunciations of these triumphs of the carver’s art are a
curious instance of the length to which an artistic bias may lead a
clever writer and critic. The reliefs representing the visits of the
Blessed Virgin to Purgatory and to St. Ildefonso are not by Philip of
Burgundy, but by his brother Gregorio.
Very fine are the reading-desks, with friezes of gilded bronze, executed
by the two Vergaras in the middle of the sixteenth century. Those on the
Epistle side are carved in low relief with the stories of David and
Saul, the Blessed Virgin and St. Ildefonso, and the Apocalypse; those on
the Gospel side, the stories of St. Ildefonso, the Ark of the Covenant,
and the Passage of the Red Sea. In the centre of the Choir is a
magnificent brass lectern upheld by a great eagle with wings outspread;
its eyes are of red stones and it crushes with its talons a struggling
dragon. It was executed in 1646 by Salinas. The pedestal on which it
stands is older by two hundred years, and is thoroughly Gothic in
character, with buttresses, pinnacles, and statuary. The work is said to
be German. The pedestal is borne by six lions, finely sculptured.
The northern entrance to the transept, which separates the Choir from
the Capilla Mayor, affords the best and least interrupted view of the
Cathedral. That view impressed the writer with its calm majesty and
sanctity, but by way of contrast it is worth while recording the
impressions of a traveller only lately returned (Mr. Stewart Dick): “My
first feeling was one of disappointment--a feeling that even now has
hardly worn away.
“It is vast and cold. A white expanse. Huge pillars towering up to a
great height. A blaze of harsh daylight. In the middle, blocking up the
view down the nave, the tawdry gilt of the Coro. Doors opening and
banging all round, people promenading, sitting on the bases of the
pillars and talking with undropped voices. You ask yourself with
amazement, Is this a church? The form is here, but where is the spirit?
“In fact, it is only in the evening that Toledo Cathedral comes into its
own. It is quiet and peaceful then. The promenaders have all gone away,
the blaring of the organ has ceased, and through the open door you hear
the twittering of birds in the cloisters. The shadows darken among the
pillars, the beautiful windows begin to glow, and a soft light fills the
upper part of the church. It is like the opening of a flower.
“Then at last you begin to feel the impressiveness and the dignity of
those avenues of mighty pillars. The trivialities that annoyed you are
lost, the effects are broad, grand, and majestic, and at last the
building is a temple; it seems as if the Holy Spirit had entered with
the fall of the twilight.”
The Capilla Mayor, or High Chapel, occupies the eastern end of the nave,
the aisles sweeping round behind it. The hinder portion was originally
the Capilla de los Reyes Viejos, the chapel in which were entombed
Sancho el Bravo, Sancho el Deseado, Alfonso VII., and others. In the
year 1498 the two chapels were thrown into one by Cardinal Cisneros, who
left the royal tombs for a time undisturbed. The High Chapel, according
to O’Shea, measures 56 feet in length, 50 feet in breadth, and 116 feet
in height. The piers are sculptured with the effigies of kings,
prelates, and saints, and with “a multitude of angels playing on
different instruments, and with outspread wings, that want but incense
to raise them again from the spot where they have alighted.” The walls
of the chapel are pierced or of open-work, the stone in parts being
almost transparent, and thus adding to the brightness of the effect. Two
rows of statuary enhance the beauty of the stonework, which is among the
earliest portions of the fabric. But these walls, for all their
magnificence, are put in the shade by the superb reja or railing, facing
that of the Choir, and contemporary with it. This work is thus described
by Señor Riaño: ‘The reja is 42 feet wide by 19 inches high; it rests
on a pediment of marble ornamented with masks and bronze work upon which
rises the reja, which is divided horizontally by means of a frieze of
ornamentation, and this again vertically into five compartments. In each
vertical division there is a pilaster of four sides formed of _repoussé_
plates, carved with a fine ornamentation in the Renaissance style; this
is again terminated with life-size figures in high relief of bronze. The
second compartment rises upon the band which divides it in a horizontal
sense; it follows the same decoration in its pilasters, and is
terminated by a series of coats of arms, torches, angels, and a variety
of foliage which finishes the upper part. Upon the centre, hanging from
a thick chain, supported from the roof, is suspended a life-size Rood of
admirable effect, which completes the decoration. In several spots there
are labels with mottoes in Latin; in one of them appears the following
inscription, and the date of 1548, when the splendid work was finished:
‘Anno MDXLVIII. Paul III. P.M. Carol. V. Imper. Rege. Joannes Martinez
Siliccus Archiepiscopus Tolet. Hispaniae Primat.’ The railings of the
reja are silvered, and the reliefs and salient points gilt. The artist
who made it was Francisco Villalpando, a native of Valladolid; this
model was chosen in preference to those of several artists, who
presented their plans in competition before the ecclesiastical
authorities; it is calculated that ten years elapsed before it was
finally finished, Villalpando was greatly distinguished likewise as a
sculptor and architect.” By him are the gilt pulpits in the plateresque
style, made from the bronze tomb that the Great Constable, De Luna, had
caused to be designed for himself. On a pier at the extremity of the
chapel is the statue of the celebrated shepherd, Martin Alhaga, who is
said to have, semi-miraculously, guided Alfonso VIII. and his army to
the rear of the Moorish forces at Las Navas de Tolosa--thus securing the
victory to the Christians. The king, who alone saw his features, is said
to have designed the statue. Opposite is the figure of the Moorish
Alfaqui, Abu Walid, whose intercession secured the old mosque to the
Catholics, in the manner already narrated.
The splendour of the High Altar, with its jasper and bronzes, renders a
detailed description impossible and inadequate. Its magnificent retablo,
rising to the very roof, is the richest gem of the Cathedral. Designed
by Philip Vigarni (Borgoña), and painted and gilded by his brother Juan,
numerous other masters contributed to its excellences. We may name
Maître Petit Jean (of France or Aragon), Almonacid (a converted Moor),
Copin (a Dutchman), Francesco of Antwerp, Fernando del Rincon, Egas, and
Pedro Gumiel. The retablo is of wood and divided into five compartments
by gorgeous columns. The subjects are from the New Testament, and are
worked out with immense and ornate elaboration. The whole is crowned
with a colossal Calvary. Behind the High Altar is placed that
extraordinary example of eighteenth-century bad taste, the too famous
_Transparente_. The whole architecture, painting, statues, carving and
bronze is the work of the same person, Narciso Thomé who completed it in
1734. Much as we may denounce the taste (or rather the lack of it) of
this triumph of the Churrigueresque style, we are obliged to admire the
wonderful execution of this misdirected genius.
The royal tombs lie around the High Altar. They were placed in recesses,
sculptured in the Gothic style by Diego Copin of Holland, by order of
Cardinal Cisneros in 1507. The arches are peculiarly graceful and light.
The tombs themselves date from much earlier times. Here sleep their last
sleep Alfonso VII., Sancho el Bravo, Sancho el Deseado, and several
Infantes. To the left of the altar is the sepulchre, more glorious than
any king’s, of the great Cardinal Mendoza, erected by order of Isabel
the Catholic, who owed so much to him. It was the work of Covarrubias,
and is all of precious marbles. One side is formed by the sarcophagus
with its recumbent effigy, the other by an altar. Above this last is a
medallion representing the Archbishop Adoring the Cross. Part of the
wall was demolished to make room for this stately mausoleum. Beneath the
Capilla Mayor is a subterranean chapel, not of special interest. It
contains a Burial of Christ by Copin, deserving of an inspection that in
the dim light is well-nigh impossible, and some pictures by Ricci.
At the eastern extremity of the Cathedral, behind the Capilla Mayor and
projecting beyond the general outline, is the chapel of San Ildefonso.
Erected by Archbishop de Rada, it remains the last important
middle-pointed feature of the building, though considerably modified by
Cardinal Albornoz in the latter part of the fourteenth century. It is
eight-sided, and has beautiful traceried windows, and arches richly
moulded and decorated. In arched recesses, beneath gabled and pinnacled
canopies, are the tombs of Cardinal Albornoz, and several members of his
family. There is much beautiful detail on the tomb of Don Iñigo de
Mendoza, who fell at Granada in 1491; and the sepulchre of the Bishop of
Avila by Tejada is a noble temple of the plateresque. The altar is
modern. St. Ildefonso was the prelate who distinguished himself by his
advocacy of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception. In return he is
said to have received signal marks of favour from the Blessed Virgin,
who invested him with a cassock, came down to attend Matins in his
company, and so forth.
To the north of this chapel is the larger Capilla de Santiago, likewise
projecting beyond the original ground plan, and dating from 1435. It was
built by order of the Great Constable, Alvaro de Luna, to be the place
of sepulchre of himself and wife, on the site of an earlier chapel
dedicated to St. Thomas à Becket. The plan is similar to that of the
last chapel described. Outside, the flat-pitched tile roof is finished
with a battlement and circular turrets at the angles. The most
conspicuous features of the chapel are the tombs, in Carrara marble, of
the Constable Alvaro de Luna and his wife Doña Juana Pimentel. The
Constable is shown in full armour, and at each corner of his tomb kneels
a knight of Santiago, of which order he was Grand Master. Four
Franciscan monks attend on his lady. In niches in the wall repose
kinsmen of the ill-fated Constable, the tombs all having been executed
by permission of Isabel the Catholic, by Pablo Ortiz in 1488,
thirty-five years after De Luna’s death on the scaffold at Valladolid.
The tombs designed for the Constable in his lifetime were to have been
furnished with life-size figures in bronze, which, by mechanical
contrivance, were to have risen each time Mass was celebrated, and to
have remained during the service in a kneeling posture. These figures
were destroyed by the Infante Don Enrique, and the bronze was used by
Villalpando for the pulpits in the Capilla Mayor. The retablo of the
High Altar reveals the portraits of the founder and his wife by Juan de
Segovia. “The chapel,” says Mr. Street, “bears evidence in the
‘perpendicular’ character of its panelling, arcading and crocketing, of
the poverty of the age in the matter of design. At this period, indeed,
the designers were sculptors rather than architects, and thought of
little but the display of their own manual dexterity.”
Passing down a corridor between this chapel and that of Santa Leocadia
we reach the Capilla de los Reyes Nuevos, lying quite outside the
original plan of the Cathedral. It was founded by Enrique II. of
Trastamara, and contains his tomb, his wife’s, and the sepulchres of
Enrique III., his Queen, Katharine of Lancaster, Juan I. and Queen
Leonor, and the effigy of Juan II., who is buried near Burgos. The
chapel is a fine specimen of the Renaissance style, reconstructed by
Alfonso de Covarrubias in 1534. The portal is fine, and is guarded by
two kings armed and bearing escutcheons. During Mass, a gorgeously
apparelled functionary holds upright a mace, crowned and jewelled, and
with the arms of Spain.
The side-chapels of the Cathedral are not, on the whole, as interesting
as one would expect in a building of such antiquity and associations. To
the south of the Capilla de San Ildefonso is the Capilla de la Trinidad;
next comes the entrance to the Chapter House or Sala Capitular, an early
sixteenth-century work with an artesonado ceiling in red, blue, and
gold, excelling anything of the kind in Andalusia. The thirteen frescoes
adorning the walls of the Chapter House are by Juan de Borgoña, who was
also responsible for the earlier series of portraits of the archbishops.
Copin’s work is to be recognised in the archiepiscopal throne, the other
stalls being by Francisco de Lara. Returning to the church through a
portal in the Moorish style, we find on the left the chapel of San
Nicolas, followed by the chapels of San Gil, San Juan Bautista, Santa
Ana, and the Reyes Viejos, founded in 1290 as the Capilla del Espritu
Santo, with a fine reja by Céspedes. The chapel of Santa Lucia, founded
by Archbishop de Rada, is, of course, in the best Gothic style, and has
“an extremely rich recessed arch in stucco, of late Moorish work--a
curious contrast to the fine pointed work of the chapel.”
The Capilla de San Eugenio contains the alabaster effigy of Bishop del
Castillo (1521), and the tomb in the Mudejar style of the Alguacil
Fernan Gudiel (1278). The statue of the saint is by Copin, the
paintings on the retablo by Juan de Borgoña. Adjacent to the chapel is
the colossal figure of Saint Christopher, usually seen in Spanish
churches. This figure is probably coeval with the fabric, but was
restored in 1638. A primitive style of art is also to be seen in the
altar-piece of the Capilla de San Martin. The next two chapels--de la
Epifania and de la Concepcion--do not present any features of special
interest.
In the south-west angle of the church is the interesting Mozárabic
Chapel, built in 1504 by Enrique de Egas, under the orders of the famous
Cardinal Ximenes de Cisneros. It is devoted to the celebration of Mass
and the offices of the church according to the Mozárabic ritual, which
till the middle of the last century was followed in six of the parish
churches. The Cupola dates from 1626, and was the work of Jorge Manuel
Theotocopuli. The porch is Gothic, and the reja in good Renaissance
style, executed by Juan Frances in 1524. The frescoes, of no great
value, painted by Juan de Borgoña, represent the expedition against
Oran, in which the great Cardinal took part. Miss Hannah Lynch gives a
vigorously worded account of a service in this chapel according to its
peculiar rite: “The quaint old ritual may be heard every morning at 9
A.M., and will be found extremely puzzling to follow. The canons, in a
sombre, flat monotone, chant responses to the officiating priest at the
altar. The sound combines the enervating effect of the hum of wings,
whirr of looms, wooden thud of pedals, the boom and rush of immense
wings circling round and round. After the first stupefaction, I have
never heard anything more calculated to produce headache, nervous
irritation, or the contrary soporific effect. In summer, it must be
terrible.”
At the opposite, or north-west, angle of the church is the Chapel of San
Juan or of the Canons, so called because Mass can be celebrated here
only by those dignitaries. It was built in 1537 by Covarrubias in the
Renaissance style, and occupies the site of the old tower chapel, called
the Quo Vadis. The ceiling is of artesonado, in gold and black, with
carved flowers and figures. Since 1870 this chapel has been the
repository of the Cathedral Treasure, styled Las Alhajas, or the Jewels.
Here is kept the gorgeous _custodia_, or portable tabernacle, made by
order of Cardinal Cisneros by Juan de Arfe, who began it in 1517 and
completed it without assistance in 1524. This triumph of the
silversmith’s craft is in the form of a Gothic temple, eight feet high,
with all the architectural details, such as columns, arches, and
vaultings, the whole resembling delicate lacework. Scenes from the life
of our Saviour are illustrated in reliefs. There are no fewer than two
hundred and sixty statues of various sizes, all exhibiting the same
skill. The tabernacle was gilded over in 1595 by Valdivieso and Morino.
The _viril_ inside, in which the Host is exposed, was made of the first
gold brought from America, is completely covered with precious stones,
and weighs twenty-nine pounds. In the Treasure is also included the
mantle of the Virgen del Sagrario, considered by Señor de Riaño the most
remarkable specimen of embroidery that exists in Spain. It is described
in the following manner: “It is made of twelve yards of cloth of silver,
entirely covered with gold and precious stones. In the centre is an
ornament of amethysts and diamonds. Eight other jewels appear on each
side of enamelled gold, emeralds, and large rubies; a variety of other
jewels are placed at intervals round the mantle, and at the lower part
are the arms of Cardinal Sandoval [seventeenth century] enamelled on
gold and studded with sapphires and rubies. The centre of this mantle is
covered with flowers and pomegranates embroidered in seed-pearls of
different sizes. Round the borders are rows of large pearls. Besides the
gems which are employed in this superb work of art, no less than 257
ounces of pearls of different sizes, 300 ounces of gold thread, 160
ounces of small pieces of enamelled gold, and eight ounces of emeralds
were used.” The beautiful dish, repoussé in silver, the designs on
which represent the Rape of the Sabines and the Death of Darius, was
believed to be the work of Benvenuto Cellini, but is now ascribed to the
Flemish artist, Mathias Méline. Among the Alhajas are also four
geographical globes, with large silver figures, gleaming with
gems--eighteenth-century work. Of historical interest is the sword, said
to have been worn by Alfonso VI. on his entry into Toledo, and the
original letter written by St. Louis of France to the Chapter, bestowing
sacred relics obtained from the Great Emperor: “Given at Etampes, the
year of our Lord, 1248, month of May.” Other objects of value are the
Cope of Cardinal Albornoz and the Cruz de la Manga, made in the
sixteenth century by Gregorio de Varona, a native of the city. Here,
also, are the archiepiscopal cross, planted by Cardinal Mendoza on the
summit of the Alhambra in 1492, and the Golden Bible in three volumes,
dating from the twelfth century. It is to be doubted if the accumulation
of these splendid objects, intended for diverse practical uses, in one
collection, serves to show any of them to the best advantage.
On the north aisle are the chapels of Teresa de Haro, Nuestra Señora de
la Antigua--where the Spanish colours used in the Moorish campaigns were
blessed--of the Pila Bautismál, with a beautiful bronze font, and a
reja by Céspedes; and the large Capilla de San Pedro, built in 1442 in
the Gothic style by Archbishop de Rojas. The founder’s fine monument was
placed here in the eighteenth century. On the other side of the Puerta
del Reloj is the Capilla de la Virgen del Sagrario, noted for a statue
of the Blessed Virgin, which she is said to have kissed on her visit to
St. Ildefonso. The statue is of dark-coloured wood, and was formerly
clothed in a mantle embroidered by Felipe Corral; and composed of gold,
rubies, emeralds, and pearls, now kept in the Treasury. In this chapel
the degree of doctor is conferred on licentiates. The two small chapels
of the Cristo and of Santa Leocadia are adjacent to the entrance to the
Capilla de los Reyes Nuevos.
Adjoining the Chapel of the Virgen del Sagrario are a set of apartments,
built with it upon the site of an old hospital, by Nicolas de Vergara,
junior, at the close of the sixteenth century. These rooms are the
Sacristia, Vestuario, Cuarto de la Custódia, and Ochavo. The Sacristia,
entered through a portal 26 feet high, contains paintings by El Greco,
to be noticed in the chapter on that master; the ‘Betrayal of Christ,’
by Goya; and a ceiling fresco by Luca Giordano, representing the Miracle
of San Ildefonso. The Vestuario contains pictures by several Italian
masters, among them ‘Paul III.’ by Titian; a replica of the portrait at
Naples; a ‘Madonna’ by Rubens; and a ‘St. Francis’ by El Greco. The
Custodia was till lately the Cathedral Treasury. The Ochavo, at the back
of the Capilla de la Virgen, is richly adorned and contains the
collection of relics, among them massive silver caskets, wonderfully
wrought, for the bones of the saints Leocadia and Eugenius.
The vestments preserved here, to the number of forty sets, belong mostly
to the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and are of the most splendid
description. “Each set [says Riaño] generally includes a chasuble,
dalmatic, cope, altar frontal, covers for the gospel stands, and other
smaller pieces. The embroideries on the orphreys, which are formed of
figures of saints, are as perfect as the miniatures on illuminated MSS.”
The Cloisters to the north-west of the church were built by Cardinal
Tenorio in 1389. They are not, as Miss Lynch observes, to be compared
with those of Burgos, of Santiago, or of Oviedo. The garden they enclose
lends a brighter, gayer note to the columned and arched galleries than
is found in those other cathedrals. The frescoes in the lower cloister
were painted by Francisco Bayeu, and illustrate the lives of St.
Eugenius and the legend of the _Niño perdido_.
We should, perhaps, have described the exterior of the Cathedral first,
but from the sightseer’s point of view the interior is, of course, more
important. It is a general subject of complaint that it is extremely
difficult to obtain a good view of any considerable part of the fabric
from the outside, nor does it stand out as conspicuously from a distance
as its imposing dimensions would lead one to suppose. The best view is
to be obtained from the church of Nuestra Señora de la Valle, above the
Puente de San Martin. The exterior, with its flying buttresses, finials,
and rose-windows, reflects the Gothic spirit of the interior. The west
façade is flanked by two towers, that above the Chapel of the Canons
alone being complete. It is 295 feet high, and was begun by order of
Archbishop Tenorio, in 1380, by Rodrigo Alfons, and completed under
Archbishop Contreras in 1440 by Alvar Gomez. On the summit is a small
spire, surmounted by a cross, a vane, and an arrow. Here are hung the
bells, among them the famous Campana Gorda, weighing nearly two tons,
and whose note reaches to Madrid. The tower also contains a peal called
the Matraca, worked continuously by mechanism from Maundy Thursday till
Easter Saturday. The view from the summit is far-reaching and inspiring.
Among the finest features of this noble church are its eight principal
entrances. In the western façade are three portals--the Puerto del
Perdon in the centre, flanked by the Puertas de los Escribános and de
la Torre. All date from the first half of the fifteenth century and are
in the Gothic style. The Puerta del Perdon forms a noble arch, richly
ornamented, and divided into two smaller arches by a column surmounted
by the figure of Christ, above which are the Twelve Apostles. Above
these again is a relief in the Renaissance style representing the gift
of the Chasuble to San Ildefonso. The smaller doors are in single
arches, and are sculptured with statues of angels and patriarchs. The
Puerta de los Escribános is so called because through it the notaries
enter the church to take their oaths. It is also called the Puerta del
Juicio. Above it is a long inscription commemorating the taking of
Granada and the expulsion of the Jews. Above the portals the façade is
adorned with a colossal sculpture of the Last Supper, the Saviour and
the Apostles being seated each in a niche, and the table reaching from
buttress to buttress. The façade is pierced with a beautiful rose-window
thirty feet across with a glazed arcade beneath.
On the south side are the Puertas Llana and de los Leones. The former in
the classic style, was made by Ignacio Haám in 1800. The Puerta de los
Leones gives access to the transept, and is a magnificent Gothic work,
erected in 1460 by the Fleming, de Egas, and ornamented by Juan Alemán.
The sculpture of the portal is perfect. The six columns of the atrium
are surmounted by six lions holding shields. Here are the famous bronze
doors, wrought by Villalpando and Ruy Diaz del Corral in 1545. The
wood-carving and decoration employed a great many masters, among whom
may be mentioned Velasco, Troyas, and the two Copins. Between them was
divided the sum of 68,672 maravedis. At the opposite or northern end of
the transept is the Puerta del Reloj, dating from the beginning of the
fifteenth century, and so named from the clock above it. The door is of
bronze and above it is a fine rose-window of about the same period. It
is considered by Street the best example of stained glass now remaining
in the Cathedral. West of this, the Puerta de Santa Catalina leads into
the eastern cloister. The decoration is profuse. St. Catharine, and the
instruments of her martyrdom, are shown, with the arms of Spain and the
Tenorio family. The Puerta de la Presentacion, also leading into the
cloister, is in the Renaissance style, and dates from 1565. Pedro
Castañeda, Juan Vasquez, Torribio Rodriguez, Juan Manzano, and Andrés
Hernandez are named as the designers of this very fine portal. The
cloisters are entered from the west side next to the tower, by the
Puerta del Mollete, so called because _molletes_ or rolls were or are
distributed to the poor here.
The chapel and cloister of San Bias on the north side of the cloisters
are the most important additions made to the structure in the fifteenth
century. The chapel contains the monument of the founder, Cardinal
Tenorio, and “in the cloister walls,” says Street, “a door which, in the
capricious cusping and crocketing of its traceried work, illustrates the
extremes into which Spanish architects of this age ran in their
elaboration of detail and affectation of novelty.”
THE DECLINE OF THE CITY
Toledo, up till then hardly distinguished for its loyalty to the Crown,
loved Isabel the Catholic, and on her account, perhaps, rendered
obedience to her Aragonese husband. The Catholic sovereigns liked the
city, and generally held their Court there. The magnificent Cardinal
Mendoza was the prime mover in the expedition against Granada, and
planted the Cross on the summit of the Alhambra. The power of the
primacy was in no way diminished by the consolidation of the monarchy,
and Toledo still looked rather to its archbishop than to its king for
guidance and governance. Under Ferdinand and Isabel it prospered
exceedingly. The arts of peace were studied, industries flourished, and
the more adventurous and restless spirits found an outlet for their
energies in colonial enterprises beyond the seas instead of cutting each
other’s throats in the byways of the city. Toledo became courtly and
urbane. The luckless princess, Juana, was born at the Alcazar in 1479;
and here the Infanta Isabel was married on April 29, 1498, to the King
of Portugal. Only a few months later her corpse was brought hither from
Zaragoza, to be laid in the convent of Santa Isabel.
The death of Queen Isabel, and the proclamation of Juana and Felipe I.
on May 22, 1502, put an end to the long spell of peace. Toledo sided at
first with Ferdinand against his son-in-law, and was held by the Silvas
against the latter’s forces under the Marquis de Villena. In the
following year (1506) the Ayalas, supported by the townsmen generally,
took possession of the town, and resolved to maintain its liberties
against the Flemish favourites and centralising tendencies of the new
_régime_. The Silvas, as a matter of course, ranged themselves on the
opposite side, and the streets ran red with blood. Toledo was herself
again.
The accession of the Flemish prince, Charles, afterwards emperor,
determined the Castilians to make a stand for national independence.
What city had so good a claim to be the headquarters of the movement,
the focus of anti-foreign agitation, as Toledo the turbulent? In 1520
occurred the outbreak of the _Comuneros_ movement. At its head were four
gentlemen of Toledo: Hernando Dávalos, Gonzalo Gaytan, Pedro de Ayala,
and (greatest of all) Juan de Padilla. Twenty thousand citizens rallied
to the cry of “Padilla y Comunidad!” and the movement spread from the
Tagus to Salamanca and westwards to the frontiers of Portugal. To
Juana, imprisoned at Tordesillas, herself a Toledan, protestations of
loyalty and devotion were addressed. But denounce her son’s fraudulently
obtained sovereignty she would not. Meanwhile Charles’s forces were not
idle. The Alcaide, Clemente de Aguayo, held the tower of San Martin, and
Don Juan de Silva, the Alcazar, against the insurgents. But the townsmen
were victorious. Padilla, however, was defeated at Villalar, and
executed, with his brave lieutenants, Juan Bravo and Maldonado.
In the Comunero leader’s dauntless wife, Maria de Pacheco, liberty found
a new champion and Spain a new heroine. “She was found praying at the
foot of the Cross,” says Miss Lynch, “when her servants brought her the
news of Padilla’s defeat and death. She rose, robed herself in black,
and walked to the Alcazar between her husband’s lieutenants, Dávalos and
Acuña, who bore a standard representing Padilla’s execution. They named
her captain of the insurgents, and found her implacable and violent, but
still a sovereign commander.” For sixteen months under this Castilian
Joan of Arc the old city of the Visigoths held out against the armies of
Charles V. Routed in a bloody sortie on October 16, 1521, by Zuñiga,
prior of San Juan, the Comuneros were obliged, ten days later, to
abandon the gates to the besiegers. A truce was agreed to, while the
demands of the citizens should be presented to the Emperor. Maria
remained in her own house, as in a fortress, guarded by her faithful
troops. But on February 3 the murder of a citizen brought on a renewal
of the conflict. Desperate battle waged in every street and lane. Maria,
assailed and valiantly defended in her stronghold, at last cut her way
through, and retired to Portugal, dying at Oporto years afterwards. The
townsmen were worsted, and sullenly submitted. Toledo had fought her
last fight.
Her day was over. Charles V. forgave her, and would come at times to
live in the Alcazar. She was still the capital of Spain. But her haughty
temper and the arrogance of her clergy matched ill with the policy of
Philip II. In 1560 Madrid--upstart, provincial Madrid--was proclaimed
the _única corte_. Less important than under the Khalifate, Toledo
became a mere provincial town. But the Church did not desert her. She is
still the metropolitan see of Spain.
Let us see what the monarchs of United Spain did for the old city, and
what monuments remain of the days when it was Court and capital.
The church of San Juan de los Reyes, near the Puente de San Martin, was
built in 1476 by Ferdinand and Isabel, in thanksgiving for the victory
of Toro gained over the Portuguese allies of Juana, nicknamed “la
Beltraneja.” The first architect was a Fleming, Juan Guas, one of the
builders of the cathedral. The church was intended to receive the ashes
of the royal founders, but after the capture of Granada it was decided
to establish the mausoleum in that city, and the completion of San Juan
de los Reyes was delayed till the seventeenth century. In consequence,
the architecture exhibits the transition from the Late Gothic to the
Late Renaissance style. “Nothing,” remarks Street, “can be more
elaborate than much of the detail of this church, yet I have seen few
buildings less pleasing or harmonious.” The exterior is unpromising, and
is decorated, if we can use the word in such a connection, with festoons
of rusty chains which fettered the limbs of the Christians in Moorish
prisons. The chief entrance, to the north, was completed by Covarrubias
in 1610, and is in the decadent style of architecture. It is adorned
with inferior statuary, and the arms and initials of the Catholic
sovereigns.
The interior is composed of a single nave, two hundred feet long and
from forty-three to seventy feet wide. There are four chapels on one
side and three on the other. At the east end of the church is a shallow
five-sided apse, forming the Capilla Mayor. Over the junction of the
nave and transept is an octagonal cupola, resting on four fine pillars,
with a pointed dome and a window in each face. At the west end of the
church is a deep gallery, containing the choir. The altar dates from the
Renaissance period, and is brought well forward into the nave. It came
from the suppressed church of Santa Cruz. Above it is a blue velvet
canopy, embroidered with the eagle, the symbol of St. John. The whole
fabric is enriched with statuary, tracery, carving, and heraldic devices
in almost reckless profusion. The yoke and the arrows--the devices of
the Catholic sovereigns--and their coats of arms are repeated again and
again. Among the inscriptions is one commemorating the foundation of the
church. It runs: “Este monasterio é églesia mandaron hacer los muy
esclarecidos Principes é señores D. Hernando é Doña Isabel, Rey y Reina
de Castilla, de Leon, de Aragon, de Sicilia, los cuales señores por
bienaventurado matrimonio y uñaron los dichos Reinos, seyendo el dicho
rey y señor natural de los reinos de Aragon y Sicilia, y seyendo la
dicha señora Reina y señora natural de los Reinos de Castilla y Leon; el
cual fundaron á gloria de nuestro señor Dios, y de la bienaventurada
Madre suya, nuestra Señora la Virgén Maria, y por especial devocion que
le ovieron.”
Admirable as is the church in its general structure, and in the detail
and execution of its ornamentation, it is garish and ostentatious. There
is a superabundance of light and luxury. Here there is no dim religious
light, no suggestion of mystery or devotion. Prayer would seem
incompatible with the whole character of the edifice. More favourable
was the opinion of Théophile Gautier, who declared that “Gothic art
never produced anything more suave, more elegant, or more fine.”
Attached to the church is the convent, bestowed on the Franciscans, and
pillaged by the French in 1808. It has been converted into a museum,
which does not contain much of great interest. The most important
exhibits are fragments of Visigothic inscriptions and Moorish tile-work.
The cloister of San Juan de los Reyes is a gem of florid Gothic, and the
finest part of the whole fabric. There are two galleries, one above the
other, the lower with traceried openings, the upper with large open
arches. As in the church, there is here an excess of decoration, hardly
a square inch on pillar, arch, and vaulting being free from sculptured
ornamentation. There is a bewildering profusion of statues of angels,
men, and animals, of scroll-work and foliage, heraldic devices and
inscriptions. The whole is dazzlingly white--more like a temple of the
Sun than a shrine of “the pale Galilean.” The original effect, perhaps,
was less crude, for the church and cloisters have been recently
restored, and, it must be confessed, not too skilfully.
A most beautiful specimen of azulejo work has been built into the
north-west wall. It comes from the suppressed monastery of the Calced
Augustines, and is said to have been a part of the ornamentation of the
ancient palace of Don Rodrigo--wherever that may have been situated.
Before the finishing touches had been put to San Juan de los Reyes, the
last important Gothic work of Toledo, the erection of one of the two
earliest examples of the Renaissance style in Spain had been begun. The
hospital of Santa Cruz was built between the years 1494 and 1514 by
Enrique de Egas, of Brussels, some ten years after he had completed the
college of the same name at Valladolid. The hospital was designed by the
founder, the mighty Cardinal Mendoza, as an asylum for foundlings. He
died in 1495, and left 75,000 ducats to the queen for the completion of
the work. Isabel it was who chose the site overlooking the bridge of
Alcantara, where formerly the palace of the legendary King Galafre is
fabled to have stood. Among other stories connected with the spot is
that of a Leonese princess wedded against her will to a Moorish prince,
her union with whom was prevented by the intervention of an angel. As in
all the early specimens of Spanish Renaissance architecture, the
groundwork of the building approximates to the Gothic, the new ideas
manifesting themselves in the decoration and carving. The portal is
superb. The reliefs represent the Adoration of the Cross by St. Helena,
St. Peter, St. Paul, and the founder, Cardinal Mendoza, two pages also
appearing, bearing mitre and helmet. Other reliefs, exquisitely
chiselled, have for subjects the espousals of St. Joachim and St. Anne,
and Charity. The four cardinal virtues are shown, and everywhere, amidst
a maze of ornamentation, occur Mendoza’s arms and device. The
plateresque windows, with their rejas in the local style, are deserving
of admiration. Entering, we find a vast _patio_, enclosed by a double
arcaded gallery of marble, and, crossing it, ascend a grand staircase
with a fine ceiling of the _artesonado_ kind. The chapel, in the form of
a Maltese cross, has also a fine ceiling, and Gothic pillars,
beautifully carved, that attest the splendid appearance once presented
by this dismantled building. Some of the columns adorning Santa Cruz
were brought from the Visigothic church of Santa Leocadia.
To the same period belongs the Franciscan convent and church of San Juan
de la Penitencia, begun by order of Cisneros in 1514, and finished by
his secretary, Fray Francisco Ruiz, Bishop of Avila. The semi-Moorish
palace of the Pantojas was utilised in its construction, and the whole
building bears traces of Arabic, or rather Mudejar, workmanship.
Entering the chapel by a porch adorned with the great Cardinal’s arms
and foliations in the Gothic style, we find ourselves in a sombre
edifice of a single nave, revealing a curious medley of styles. The roof
is a fine example of the artesonado. Over the transept, which is divided
from the nave by a plateresque reja, is a cupola with a stalactite roof
of the Moorish pattern. The principal retablo is early Renaissance, and
several of the altars may be classed as Baroque. The most interesting
feature of the church is the tomb of the Bishop of Avila, who died in
1528. It is in the Renaissance style, and was the work of a Lombard
artist. It is wrought in Sicilian marble, and is thus described by Ponz:
“Above a large stone divided by three pilasters to form three pedestals
there are an equal number of statues seated, representing Faith, Hope,
and Charity. Between the pilasters are the arms of the Bishop--five
castles. In a framed recess are the urn, couch, and recumbent figure. In
front of the urn are seen two weeping children, and within the recess
four angels draw aside the curtains. On either side are two Doric
pillars supporting the frieze, which is inscribed, ‘Beati mortui qui in
Domino moriantur.’ On the edge are two antique columns admirably
executed. Between these columns and pilasters are statues, St. James and
St. Andrew, and above, the figures of children. Over all is a bas-relief
of the Annunciation, with the statues of St. John the Divine and St.
John Baptist, one-half the size of the Virtues below.”
The Emperor-King Charles V. had, as we have seen, small reason to love
Toledo, but he did something for the permanent embellishment of the
city, and the last architectural monuments reared on its craggy
peninsula belong to his era.
It is difficult to ascribe the Alcazar, to which reference has so often
been made, to any one epoch. It has undergone so many vicissitudes, so
many reconstructions, that the name, as we have employed it, must be
understood to represent a site rather than the actual palace. A
stronghold of some sort has always been here--possibly, in Roman times,
the Arx, where tradition avers the martyr Leocadia suffered death. The
Arabian geographer, Jerif al Edris, writing in 1154, describes Toledo as
“a town great in extent and population, extremely strong, with fine
ramparts, and an Alcazaba, fortified and impregnable.” This citadel was
doubtless the Alcazar, which was strengthened and rebuilt by successive
Castilian kings, and is said to have been the residence of the Cid, the
first Christian Alcaide. Added to, reconstructed, partially demolished
and repeatedly restored, it must have presented an aspect rude and
heterogeneous enough when, in 1538, Charles V. ordered Alonso de
Covarrubias and Luis de Vega to rebuild the palace entirely on the
lines of the new Alcazar of Granada. The Flemish Emperor may, then,
fairly be considered the founder of the present fortress-palace, though
it has since his time undergone radical transformations. It was burnt
down during the War of Succession in 1710, restored sixty years later,
destroyed again by the French in 1810, and devastated by a third
conflagration as late as 1887. Since 1882 it has been the seat of the
Royal Military Academy.
The northern façade was constructed after the designs of Covarrubias,
and looks on the square created by Ferdinand and Isabel in 1502. The
reconstruction was so complete that probably no stone of the older
façade was left in its place. The façade is severe and majestic,
revealing classical influence, though not without important traces of
the plateresque. It is flanked by towers, and adorned with a handsome
portal--the work of Enrique de Egas, brother-in-law of Covarrubias. Over
the door are the Imperial arms, supported by the figures of two heralds
or mace-bearers. The fortress-like eastern façade is believed to be a
part of the original Alcazar as restored by Alfonso X.; the western side
of the building dates from the reign of the Catholic sovereigns, and the
southern, with massive Doric pillars and square turrets, was built after
designs by Juan de Herrera.
The inner court, or _patio_, is described by a Spanish writer as
“solemn, grandiose, full of majesty ... constructed for the
dwelling-place of the August Cæsar.” It forms a spacious parallelogram
and is enclosed by an arcade in two storeys with columns of the
Corinthian order. Above the capitals are displayed the escutcheons of
the various kingdoms ruled over by Charles. The modern restorers of the
palace have adorned the court with a statue of the Emperor in the Roman
costume in which he was so fond of being represented.
The finest feature of the palace must have been the staircase, designed
by Villalpando and Herrera, which has been to some extent restored after
its destruction by Stahremberg in 1710. One of the widest staircases in
the world, “it ends,” says Miss Hannah Lynch “in the void!” In truth,
the Alcazar is not to-day a very interesting building. It is, in
reality, quite impossible to identify the scenes of the romantic and
historical episodes which we know occurred in one or other of the
successive Alcazars. But the room in which Alfonso VI. died and the
window at which the hapless Blanche de Bourbon wept, _pace_ the local
guides, must have disappeared to the last stone and fragment ages ago.
All that can be said of the palace to-day is that it forms an imposing
landmark, and affords from its northern terrace one of the finest views
of Toledo.
To the age of Charles V. (or Carlos I. as in Spain he would properly be
called) belongs the Hospital de San Juan Bautista, styled the Hospital
de Afuera (outside) in the suburb of Covachuelas. The building was begun
in 1541 by order of Archbishop Juan de Tavera, who died on his return
from the baptism of Prince Carlos at Valladolid. The building was
carried on after Bustamente’s death by the two Vergaras, and completed
about 1600. The façade dates from the eighteenth century and is still
unfinished. The courtyard, spacious and imposing, is divided into two
and enclosed by colonnades. A fine Renaissance portal by Berruguete
leads into the large chapel, which is in the form of a cross and
surmounted by a dome. The pavement is of black and white marble. Before
the altar is the tomb of Archbishop Tavera by Berruguete. This is one of
the finest monuments in Spain. It was finished by Berruguete when he was
over eighty years old, in 1561, his death taking place the same year in
one of the rooms under the great clock. His sons received nearly a
million maravedis for the work. “The Cardinal,” says Théophile Gautier,
“is stretched out upon his tomb in his pontifical habit. Death has
pinched his nose with its strong fingers, and the last contraction of
the muscles, in their endeavour to retain the soul about to leave the
body for ever, puckers up the corners of the mouth and lengthens the
chin; never was there a cast taken after death more horribly true; and
yet the beauty of the work is such, that you forget any amount of
repulsiveness that the subject may possess. Little children in attitudes
of grief support the plinth and the Cardinal’s coat of arms. The most
supple and softest clay could not be more easy or more pliant; it is not
carved, it is kneaded!”
The hospital contains some of El Greco’s most notable work, which will
be noticed in the chapter on that master.
To Charles V. Toledo also owes the grand New Gate of Visagra, built in
1550, and restored in 1575. It consists of two separate structures, or
gateways, enclosing a _patio_. On the exterior of the north gate is
shown the double eagle with the Spanish arms and a Latin
inscription--all in sculptured granite. On the inside is a fine statue
of St. Eugenio, variously attributed to Berruguete and Monegro. The
statues of Gothic kings, a life-sized angel with unsheathed sword,
elegant capitals and balconies, combine to make this gateway one of the
finest approaches possessed by any city in the world.
The Ayuntamiento, or town hall, of Toledo was erected in the time of
Ferdinand and Isabel by the corregidor Gomez Manrique, and enlarged and
restored between 1576 and 1618 by the corregidor Juan Tello, under the
supervision of El Greco. The façade is composed of two storeys, the
first consisting of nine arches with Doric columns which spring from
massive pillars, the second of as many arches with Ionic columns. The
edifice is surmounted by two towers, crowned with steeples and
weather-vanes. On the fine staircase may be read in letters of gold on a
blue ground this admonition to the civic dignitaries of Toledo:
Nobles, discretes varones,
Que gobernais á Toledo,
En aquellas escalones,
Desechad las aficiones,
Codicio temor, y miedo,
For los comunes provechos,
Dejad los particulares;
Pues vos fizo Dios pilares
De tan riquisimos techos,
Estad firmes y derechos.
The Summer Council Chamber is handsomely decorated with _azulejos_, and
contains some battle pictures. The portraits of Carlos II. and his wife
are the work of Carreño.
The celebrated Bridge of Alcantara, of which mention has so often been
made in these pages, belongs indifferently to all the epochs of Toledo’s
history, so no apology is needed for mentioning it here. “It constitutes
to-day as in the past,” writes Amador de los Rios, “the principal
entrance to the city, and, constructed very wisely on one of the
narrowest parts of the river, it is formed of a great central arch of
more than twenty-eight metres in breadth, resting on the right on a
solid pile, often demolished, behind which is a smaller semicircular
arch, which is, in turn, sustained by the bridge head, founded on the
rock and pierced by a still smaller arch or passage, where several
Visigothic remains have been discovered.” At the outer or country end of
the historic bridge formerly stood a fortified tower, which was in 1787
replaced by the existing structure. This is in a pretentious style, and
is decorated with various inscriptions, among them one commemorating the
building by order of Philip V. The majestic hexagonal tower on the town
side, with its picturesque turrets, dates probably from 1259. Above it
is a statue of St. Ildefonso, by Berruguete. Over the archway are
sculptured the badges of Ferdinand and Isabel (the yoke and bundle of
arrows), commemorating the restoration of the tower, in 1489, by Gomez
Manrique. A noble bridge is this of Alcantara; old--old as the city--the
work of all Toledo’s rulers, and like Toledo, grim, stern, rude,
destined, it would seem, to endure for ever. Romans, Visigoths, Moors
and Castilians have lingered on it, triumphed on it, fled across it,
fought upon it, and across it to-day must walk every traveller entering
with reverence this great temple of the mediæval and bygone.
EL GRECO
BY
ALBERT F. CALVERT AND C. GASQUOINE HARTLEY
Domeniko Theotokopuli,[A] known to us to-day as El Greco, was the first
great painter of Spain, and in his strange and fascinating art, the
Spanish School compels for the first time the attention of the world.
And El Greco was not Spanish. He was born in Crete, it would seem about
the year 1548, and died at Toledo in 1614. Learning his art in Venice,
in his early manner he is a pure Venetian, owing much to the work of the
Bassani, and more to the inspiration of Tintoretto, but in Toledo he
became Spanish and himself, developing there a manner in which the
special temper of the race finds an expression passionate enough, not
equalled again, indeed, until the advent of Goya.
There will always be some men imaginative, entirely personal, who,
like El Greco, seek to express themselves, and in so doing, quite
unwittingly probably, express the life of their age. Having the
interpretative--creative would perhaps be the truer word--genius, their
work becomes, as it were, a mirror, which reflects not the man alone,
but the circumstances that have formed his life. For, after all, what
the artist does is to use up what he has seen.
This is why El Greco seems to chronicle for us our impressions of
Toledo, and of Spain.
Surely no other painter has lived in a city in such strong agreement
with his spirit. Think of the place--wind-swept, heat-dried,
extraordinarily austere, yet flushed with colour, ochre-red shading to
unusual greens; heaped upon its rocky throne above the yellow flowing
Tagus, its rugged silhouette straight cut against a sky hard and clear
as enamel; and, beyond, the sierra like a great brown sea in which it
all stands as an island starting from the waves. A suggestion of
strenuousness seems to linger everywhere, a spirit, personal and keen,
cruel almost as the sword-blades the city fashions. The very buildings,
placed upon the crags beneath the great hulk of the Alcazar, repeat this
impression, they rise in sharp upward and downward lines like an
arrangement of swords, and make their appeal by the strange strength of
their aspect. The streets are a tortuous net of steep-rising
passage-ways. A city strongly itself that has suffered no change,
fantastic as a city seen in a dream.
Yes, to those who know Toledo, the impression of the character of the
city upon El Greco will bring no surprise. His art corresponds perfectly
with its setting. Everywhere his work is around you, for El Greco is one
of those painters who has but a single home. He built churches and other
buildings--the classic façade of the Ayuntamiento, for instance, was
modelled on his design; he carved statues, he painted pictures, there
are canvases of his in the museum, in the cathedral, and in many of the
churches. And in all this mass of work, it is the living force behind it
that is the first impression that you gain; a kind of driving power that
fascinates you, just as Toledo fascinates you, by reason of its power.
El Greco was a painter able to create--that is the secret of it all.
And, be it remembered, the artist does not find his matter straight from
the springs of his brain, what he is able to see he sets down, and that
is all. His art is great in exact measure as it is able to transfer this
vision from him to us. In this way El Greco, to whom vision seems to
have been the whole of life, does in his pictures transfer to us the
entire impression of Toledo, so that it is difficult to speak of his art
without making Toledo the refrain.
And as we wait with his pictures and note, after the first surprise has
left us, the qualities of the work, throughout they confirm this. The
very form of his composition is moulded upon Toledo. Just as its
buildings cluster around the Alcazar, almost as bees swarming about
their queen, so he groups everything around a central figure. Never,
after he came to Toledo, did El Greco use Italian backgrounds. And in
his long, lithe figures, so fantastic in their hard outlines, sometimes
we catch that suggestion of the sword that haunts Toledo. Then when we
come to more tangible things, we find to-day El Greco’s models in the
dark peasants of Toledo. Nowhere else can we quite believe in the
reality of those coldly fervent, self-absorbed, ecstatic men, who greet
us with such fascination from his canvases, their lean, long profiles
suggesting again that aspect of a sword.
Then, El Greco’s colour was drawn from the landscape around him. And
colour, if we may credit the truth of the conversation recounted by
Pacheco, was to him the one quality in painting, form, drawing, all
else, being of secondary significance. This, too, was learnt in Toledo,
where colour has an allurement--illusive and insistent. Toledo it was
showed him the existence of cold tones, and the fascination of its greys
and livid greens led him to anticipate modern colour, at a time when
every one else was painting warm tonalities. In the Convent of San Juan
de los Reyes, now the Museo Provincial, is that ‘Bird’s-Eye View of
Toledo,’ the picture in which we have a portrait of George Manuel
Theotokopuli, El Greco’s son. At first you will be astonished, it is the
strangest landscape in the world. But wait with the picture--always the
danger with El Greco is that you will not linger enough. The painter who
sees for himself must be studied, not dismissed as he who but sets down
the common vision of things. And El Greco does give us the real Toledo
in this fantastic landscape. Do you doubt this? Then go when night falls
upon the city to some such vantage-point as the Puerta del Cambón, where
beneath the dome of the evening sky you will see Toledo, heaped roof
against roof, tower against tower. You will forget the strangeness of
the picture’s statement, as you come to see that it is just this effect
that El Greco has caught. Now you will recognise the reality of those
bluish whites, those tones of green that surprised you, and, in
gladness, you will yield to the truth, the beauty--are not the two the
same?--of the painter’s vision, and avow how much he has taught you to
see.
Always El Greco’s pictures leave an impression of their own upon the
spectator; and this is the test of vital work. It is personality that
counts in art. Whether he paints the visible truth of outward things, as
in his portraits--that wonderful series in the Prado, for instance, in
which he startles us with his revelation of his model--or pure fancies
of the mind, as ‘The Vision of Philip II.,’ in the Escorial, a picture
that would seem to have no conscious reference to things seen, one feels
that he had something definite to express. And although his style at
first may have been formed largely on that of the great Venetian
painters, of Tintoretto especially--a “sort of shorthand of the
Venetian,” Mr. Ricketts calls it--in all his pictures there is but one
personality--that of himself. At the back of his art was a force of
passionate character--unbalanced? Yes! capricious and arbitrary; a
tyrannical need that compelled expression. But in spite of his singular
conventions and, from a theorist’s point of view, the strangeness and
exaggeration of his qualities, he does convey his meaning, splendidly
effective, if not the best. And because of this intensity of vision we
have those pictures of exaggerated statement that give credit to the
fable of the painter’s madness, such as the ‘St. John the Baptist,’ in
the Hospital San Juan Bautista, a picture which many have found ugly,
while the few see in its new conception a striving for personal
utterance, and find many things in its suggestion.
El Greco stumbled in his methods maybe, never in his purpose, which was,
it would seem to us, the significance of movement. All his strange
skill, the power of his imagination, his new knowledge of colour and
light, are used in this service, to bring home to us the vision of
movement that everywhere he saw. Even in his portraits it is this that
holds us. There is something more in them than the outward likeness;
there is a power of reaching to and showing us the unquiet spirit
within. He makes his portraits live and speak. This quality is present
in all his work. Every picture is built up by its effect; and this
effect is movement--life. By concentrating on a particular passage, by a
contempt for detail and peddling accuracy, he directs our minds to this
principal thing. His interest, as it were, compels ours; he realises his
vision and makes us share in his imagination.
But it may be said that in many of these pictures the effect is forced;
in the ‘St. Maurice,’ the rejected altar-piece of the Escorial, for
instance, in the ‘Baptism of Christ’ and the ‘Descent of the Holy
Spirit,’ in the Prado, and in many pictures in Toledo, easily
recognised, in which realities are replaced by a series of conventions.
It is not necessary to wait to particularise examples. Certainly one
does not see in the pictures of other painters those greens, those ashen
whites and crimsons, those livid blacks; El Greco’s use of colour is
unusual and his own. Light is not used as he uses it, as a quantity for
emotional appeal; those faces, so elongated or contracted, and with such
extravagant expressions, those figures with hard anatomical outlines, do
not correspond with life as we see it. Yes, this is true. But look
longer at these pictures.... Well, would it be possible to gain their
_effects_ without the _defects_? If things are forced out of harmony it
is for the sake of “telling strongly.” All this search for expression is
done quite consciously. El Greco throughout was strong enough to be true
to himself and to his imagination. He knew that no system of art is
final, that the achievements of artists are, in truth, the stones
wherewith the Temple of Art is built. Imagination does not see
commonplaces. And we recall the statement of Blake--he, too, a painter
of visions of the mind: “He who does not imagine in stronger and better
lineaments, and in stronger and better light, than his perishing mortal
eye can see, does not imagine at all.”
El Greco might have said these words.
And the man? There is a portrait Domeniko Theotokopuli has left of
himself now in the Museum of Seville. In it we see the long, striking
profile, with its large, strong nose, restless eyes and straight mouth,
cruel slightly, framed by the great white ruff that forms such fitting
setting to the fine head. The forehead is high, the dark hair scant upon
the temples. We may read in the face, and still more in the perfectly
shaped hands--the left holds a square palette upon which are the five
primary colours, white, black, yellow-ochre, vermilion, and lake, the
colours he used most frequently--the fastidiousness of the artist, the
instinct for beauty; we may read a peculiar suggestion of mysticism and
ardour; self-assertion, too, and impatience--both wait in those long,
nervous fingers. It is a face of genius, but of a kind restless,
unbalanced, decadent perhaps. And we understand the driving energy that
burned to fever, so that at times the balance was lost between the
painter’s aim and the result, and we realise that the work of such a man
must be introspective, experimental, neurotic.
We know nothing almost of El Greco’s life, and if external happenings
were all, the most original painter of Spain would remain an unexplained
personality. His very name is uncertain, and contemporary writers,
disregarding the Theotokopuli, speak of him as Domeniko Greco. We do not
know the year in which he was born, for the information given by
Palomino in “El Museo” must certainly be questioned, no register of his
birth as yet having been found among the Cretan archives, or in the
parochial books of the Greek colony in Venice, the city in which it
seems certain that he lived--a pupil, we may well think, of Tintoretto,
rather than of Titian; and this in spite of the letter of his friend
and compatriot the miniature-painter, Clovio,[B] in which Clovio speaks
of the young Greek painter’s skill, tells of his coming to Rome, and,
after commending him to the patronage of the Cardinal Nepote Farnese,
refers to his having learnt his art from the greatest Venetian. But the
testimony of his work gives more truth than this statement; his early
pictures, their authorship so long unknown, again and again have been
attributed to Tintoretto, to Bassano, to Veronese even, never to Titian.
That El Greco was a Cretan we know by his signature, always in Greek, on
many pictures, Λομήνικος Θεοτοκόπουλος Κρήσεποίει--the ‘San Maurice,’
in the Escorial, is one. And again, when called, in 1582, by the
Tribunal of the Inquisition to act as interpreter in the case of a
Cretan accused of being a Morisco, he describes himself as “Domeniko
Theotokopuli, native of Candia, painter, resident in Toledo,” as we
learn from a document discovered by Señor Cossio, to whose research, and
to that of Señor Foradada and of Señor de Beruete, we owe the few
discovered facts of El Greco’s life.
We know that Domeniko Greco came to Toledo some time before 1577, and in
that year he was at work in the convent of Santo Domingo el Antigua,
where the Church was built and its statues carved by him, and where he
painted the screens of the fine retablo; that further, he would seem
never to have left Toledo; that he married there, and had a son, George
Manuel, who was architect and sculptor to the cathedral from 1628 to his
death in 1631, and also a daughter, whose portrait figures in several
pictures--in ‘Christ Despoiled of his Vestments,’ in the cathedral, for
one; that he died in Toledo, and was buried in Santo Domingo el Antigua
on April 7, 1614[C]--and that is about all. We have record of much
work--Toledo still has more than fifty Grecos--and there were pictures
painted for the small town of Illescas, and also for Madrid. We read of
two lawsuits, one undertaken to compel the Cathedral Chapter to pay in
full for the ‘Expolio,’[D] the second to vindicate the painter’s right
to sell his pictures without paying the tax levied upon merchandise.
These lawsuits, his pictures, with their dates and signatures, certain
contracts and receipts, are the few facts to be reported.
It would seem that this strange, self-contained life wished to be
silent; for it is perhaps not too fanciful to read this meaning into
that answer given by El Greco when asked, in connection with the writ
served on him for the ‘Expolio,’ whether he had been brought to Toledo
to paint the retablo of Santo Domingo: “I am neither bound to say why I
came to this city nor to answer the other questions put to me.” Here we
gain hints of certain very real traits of character.
And, if the facts of his life are meagre enough, we can find suggestions
of this same temper, silent, yet passionate, in that visit of Pacheco to
the Toledan painter when he was old, in 1611, of which we have spoken
before. Pacheco tells us that El Greco was a student of many things, a
writer on art, a great philosopher given to witty sayings, a sculptor
and architect as well as a painter. He writes of much work that he saw,
and speaks in particular of a cupboard in which were models in clay of
each picture El Greco had finished. The two painters talked on many
subjects, of colour and its supreme quality in painting, of Michael
Angelo and his failure as a colourist. But in all the account of
Pacheco, always so minutely laborious, it is significant to note in one
sentence the impression he formed of Domeniko Greco: “He was in all
things as singular as in his painting.”
Nor will it do to overlook the testimony of Giuseppe Martinez, whose
“Practical Letters on the Art of Painting,” though not printed until
1866, were written a century before. He too speaks of Domeniko Greco as
of extravagant disposition, and in proof recounts that he engaged
musicians to play to him that he might “enjoy an additional luxury
during meals.” The prudent Aragonese condemns this “too much
ostentation,” but we capture again some fresh clues and hints of this
strangely effective personality--a fanatic of life, a fanatic of
painting.
But we have not settled the account of genius when we have called it
unusual, fanatic, or decadent. It is the solution of the dull that
genius is extravagant consciously. El Greco can have had no desire, no
power, to repeat the easy, the commonplace. If strange, exaggerated
even, his art is without a trace of affectation. When he painted a
vision he felt it natural to symbolise his idea in the way that he did.
In colour, in form, he painted only what his imagination saw, gaining in
colour fresh harmonies for himself, and a new suggestion of movement in
his imaginative compositions, to which our imagination must find answer.
El Greco understood all nature as a Living Presence; his art was a
series of experiments to express this. And every one must be struck with
the peculiar development of this special personality in his art from
stage to stage--stages that with sufficient accuracy may be divided into
three periods.
The first is the pupil’s search for truth; the Venetian stage, in which
we find a consciousness of tradition, showing itself in the
still-fettered design, in the attitudes of the figures, in the use of
warm colour, in a flowing quality in the paint, and, especially perhaps,
in the landscape backgrounds, so Venetian with palaces and marble-paved
piazzas; yet mingled with all this tradition is an emphatic personality,
an ardour of expression, very difficult to define, seen in such early
pictures as ‘The Blind Man,’ in the Parma Gallery, or ‘The Cardinal,’ in
the National Gallery, both painted before 1577. Over the whole Venetian
period the influence of Tintoretto is obvious; while the portraits of
these years recall in their method the work of the Bassani; and of the
pre-Spanish pictures, as, for instance, the ‘Cleansing of the
Temple,’[E] now in the possession of the Countess of Yarborough, and the
replica of the same subject on a small scale, in the Cook collection at
Richmond, Surrey, a picture of real beauty that testifies to El Greco’s
skill in miniature--these, and many other works, were thought until
quite recently to be the work of the Venetians, the first being
attributed to Paul Veronese, the latter to Tintoretto, and this in spite
of their marked character.
And the Venetian influence remained in the first years in Toledo. It is
seen in the beautiful Virgin in the early ‘Assumption,’ painted for the
central altar-screen of Santo Domingo el Antigua, but now in the
Prado.[F] But the chief work of this period is the ‘Christ Despoiled of
His Vestments,’ still in the sacristy of the cathedral in Toledo, for
which it was painted in 1577. Here, perhaps, in the fine simplicity of
the grouping, in the dignity of the inspired head of the Saviour, in the
rich and strong colour and in the vivid light and shade, we have the
best results of all El Greco learnt in Venice. But even in this
beautiful picture we see the development, or rather the co-existence, of
his two styles: on the one hand carefully and thoroughly worked-out
qualities, a balanced art remembered from Venice, but with it all a
power that was his own, that seized the elements in the picture and gave
them life--his life. And again, we have in the excessive height of the
Christ, in the hands of many of the figures in this picture and in the
‘Assumption,’ first hints of the special conventions with which the name
of El Greco is certainly most associated.
We come to the second stage, in which the painter, forgetting tradition,
seeks to set down his vision in his own way; it is the period of
experiment, as we see it first in the ‘St. Maurice,’[G] painted in 1581,
that strange picture, rejected, as we may so well believe, by Philip
II., who, misunderstanding, as many have done since, the intensity of
feeling that animates the work, attributed its exaggerated expression to
madness. Here, and in other pictures of this time, in the seizing
‘Vision of Philip II.’ and in the ‘St. John the Baptist’ in particular,
we have splendid examples of imaginative work. Maybe the details are
impossible, perhaps absurd--many have found them so--but for others the
inspiration of the painter triumphs, and the longer they gaze at these
visions the more they are impelled. For, be it remembered, the idea
should be the starting-point in all imaginative pictures, and should
control both the design and its treatment, and these Greco’s are
splendid in this respect. Whether the imagination is exaggerated and
perverted in wilful experiment, whether from an uncertain technical
equipment, or whether it is, as we would think, the natural and true
expression of intense dramatic vision, it is not easy to say. Who shall
decide whether to call these mad pictures or visions that breathe the
sublime? That is a question hard to answer in much of El Greco’s
characteristic work. Perhaps the truth is that we dislike too readily
what we do not easily understand. El Greco goes back to first principles
and speaks in symbols with which we are not familiar. Those spectres of
human kind that surprise us in so many of his pictures in Toledo, in
those in the Prado, as well as in these two in the Escorial, do not
suggest life as we see it; but they are inspired--they do convey his
meaning. This painter’s method is a real enigma; he essayed surprising
effects by separating colour into its original values; he used light as
a means of emotional appeal, giving us sometimes most delicate
harmonies, sometimes discordant contrasts. Domeniko Greco had to teach
his world to see what he saw, and in this way he came, it may seem to
some, to over-emphasise what to him was truth.
And his third stage was a fevered expression of his imaginative vision.
We have entered a new world of extraordinary restlessness, the
restlessness that must exist when spirit struggles from the bonds of the
flesh. Toledo, the ardent arid city, burnt fiercely in El Greco’s blood,
and, more and more, he seems to have felt that it was not enough to
record facts; to have cared less to give æsthetic pleasure; but that the
object of his art should be to clothe abstract ideas with life. It is
something of all this that we find in his later pictures. In each there
is emphasis--or, if you like, exaggeration--of statement; in the
‘Coronation of the Virgin’ in San José, for instance, a picture that in
a strange, left-handed way carries us forward to the picture by
Velazquez[H] on the same subject. The exaggeration is equally visible in
the ‘Assumption’ in San Vicente, more beautiful, and the most
interesting of these rare visions, a picture in which we have
movement--the very sensation of a figure passing through the air as we
have, perhaps, in no other picture. It is even stronger in the group of
pictures in Madrid, the ‘Baptism,’ the ‘Descent of the Holy Spirit,’ the
‘Resurrection,’ and the ‘Christ Dead in the Arms of God’; it meets us
again in the ‘St. Joseph with the Child Jesus,’ and in the ‘Virgin and
Child with Saints Justa and Gertrude,’[I] both in San José, the church
that is the museum of so much of the master’s work--pictures all similar
in their intense sentiment; while emphasis burns to a white flame of
ardent expression in the famed ‘St. John the Baptist,’ the wonderful
picture of which we have spoken already. It is there, too, in the
‘Christ Crucified,’ one in the Prado, one in San Nicolas, surely the
most terrible realisation possible of that scene of sacrifice, in which
the agony of spirit so outweighs the agony of the flesh, and sky and
earth seem to take their share in the struggle.
It is impossible to translate the effect of these animated religious
pictures into words. El Greco was not content to embody the old myths in
fresh forms, but he gave fresh forms to the ideas that are, as it were,
the soul of each myth--that which lives when the form of the stories
change. Even in his pictures with few figures, such for instance, as the
‘Mary and Jesus,’ in San Vicente, the ‘St. Francis,’ of which there are
four replicas in Toledo, or that earlier picture, a beautiful rendering
of a difficult theme, ‘La Veronica,’ one of the series painted for the
Santo Domingo el Antigua in 1575-76, we have this exaggeration. Then,
sometimes, exaggeration, which in each picture, after all, only
emphasises the idea, disappears altogether, and we are given figures of
singular beauty, as the ‘San Martin,’ in San José, or the really fine
Madonnas--dark, oval-faced angels that surprise us at times with a
beauty of type we hardly expect from El Greco. But, as a rule, in the
pictures of this period, roughly marked by the painting of that
experimental picture the ‘St. Maurice,’ there is this intensity of
expression; and especially we find a new, and often strange, use of
colour; colour, as well as form, being used as a means of dramatic
statement, with a result that to many is exaggeration. For El Greco
learnt first, perhaps, from the Venetians, and afterwards certainly in
Toledo, many new possibilities of colour--that it has a quality that
speaks, and further that the appeal of a picture depends first of all on
the tone of its colour. It is for this reason he used colour as a means
of emotional appeal; it was another quality by which to convey his idea
to the world. For El Greco held truly that the province of art is to
interpret, not to imitate. Every development of his art seems to have
come from his own mind, hardly at all from the work of other painters;
from the first he was true to his ideals. And always his pictures seem
to be more the work of his soul than of his hand; which, in other words,
is to say that he was greater as an artist than as a painter.
Domeniko Greco, like so many of the painters of Spain, was great in
portraiture; and some of his portraits, such as those of Antonio
Covarrubias and of Juan de Alava, in the Museo de San Juan de Los Reyes,
that of Cardinal Tavera, in the Hospital de Afuera, the whole series in
the Prado, and many others not possible to name, are as fine portraits
as have ever been done in the world. In his earliest portraits even, in
that of Julio Clovio, in the Museum of Naples, or that of ‘A Student,’ a
portrait, it well may be, of the young painter himself, we have the
qualities of his later work; always it is the spirit of his model that
he seeks.
And this inward interpretation of life is seen, too, in that picture
which is accounted rightly the most interesting, though not perhaps the
most typical, of his work, ‘The Burial of Gonzalo Ruiz, Count of Orgaz,’
still in the Church of Santo Tomé, where it was painted in 1584. Look at
this gallery of living portraits, all the life of Toledo--the life of
Spain--is reflected back from those ardent faces. In St. Augustine,
splendid in ecclesiastical robes, is the magnificent opulence of the
Catholic Church; in the livid face of the dead count, in the cowled monk
and two priests is the fervid piety of a people who have felt themselves
in mystical communion with God; in the young, warm beauty of St. Stephen
and the lovely acolyte is the full joy and rich colour of Spain; and
lastly, in the long line of mourners who stand behind the group of the
principal figures, and where the painter’s own nervous face is the sixth
portrait counting from the right side, you have types unchanged in
Castile to-day. And how individual is the rendering of the upper section
of the picture in which Christ awaits in the heavens the spirit of the
dead saint. Yes, this picture is one of the greatest pictures in Spain;
it is always interesting.
[Illustration: PLATE 1
TOLEDO
_Specially drawn for The Spanish Series_]
[Illustration: PLATE 2
GENERAL VIEW OF TOLEDO FROM THE SOUTH-EAST]
[Illustration: PLATE 3
VIEW OF TOLEDO FROM THE SOUTH-EAST]
[Illustration: PLATE 4
GENERAL VIEW OF TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 5
VIEW OF TOLEDO FROM THE CAMPO DEL REY]
[Illustration: PLATE 6
GENERAL VIEW OF TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 7
STATE OF THE RUINS OF THE CIRCO MAXIMO IN THE YEAR 1848, ACCORDING TO
THE “ALBUM ARTISTICO”]
[Illustration: PLATE 8
THE RIVER TAGUS]
[Illustration: PLATE 9
ALCANTARA BRIDGE]
[Illustration: PLATE 10
PERSPECTIVE OF ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE AND THE DIRECTION OF THE FORTIFIED
LINES]
[Illustration: PLATE 11
PERSPECTIVE VIEW OF THE SITE OF THE AQUEDUCT]
[Illustration: PLATE 12
ENVIRONS OF TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 13
PLAZA DE ZOCODOVER]
[Illustration: PLATE 14
THE TOWN HALL]
[Illustration: PLATE 15
THE MARKET-PLACE]
[Illustration: PLATE 16
THE MARKET-PLACE]
[Illustration: PLATE 17
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 18
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 19
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 20
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 21
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 22
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 23
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 24
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 25
VISAGRA GATE]
[Illustration: PLATE 26
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 27
A STREET IN TOLEDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 28
BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 29
ALCANTARA GATE
ALCANTARA PORTAL AND BRIDGE]
[Illustration: PLATE 30
EXTERIOR OF THE NORTHERN CITY WALLS]
[Illustration: PLATE 31
FORTIFICATIONS OF THE OLD BRIDGE OF BOATS, REPLACED BY THE BRIDGE OF ST.
MARTIN]
[Illustration: PLATE 32
REMAINS OF THE CITY WALLS OF “AL-HIZÉM,” FROM THE GATE OF THE DOCE
CANTOS TO THE “PLAZA DE ARMAS” OF THE BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 33
REMAINS OF THE CITY WALLS, SOUTH-WEST, REBUILT AT THE TIME OF THE
RECONQUEST]
[Illustration: PLATE 34
REMAINS OF THE ROMAN RAMPARTS OF THE FIRST ENCLOSURE OF THE CITY]
[Illustration: PLATE 35
REMAINS OF THE ROMAN RAMPART OF THE FIRST ENCLOSURE OF THE CITY. (PLAZA
DE ARMAS DEL PUENTE DE ALCANTARA)
VISIGOTH CAPITAL TRANSFORMED INTO A FOUNTAIN BASIN. (No. 9 CALLEJON DE
LA LAMPARILLA)]
[Illustration: PLATE 36
PRINCIPAL ENTRANCE TO THE HOUSE OF THE BATHS OF ABEN-YA-YIX BAJADA AL
COLEGIO DEL INFANTES
SEPULCHRAL ARCH OF THE INFANTE DON FERNANDO PEREZ IN THE BELEN CHAPEL IN
THE CONVENT OF THE COMENDADORA DE SANTIAGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 37
RUINS OF POLAN CASTLE. FOURTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 38
GUADAMAR CASTLE]
[Illustration: PLATE 39
REMAINS OF THE ROMAN RAMPARTS OF THE FIRST ENCLOSURE OF THE CITY]
[Illustration: PLATE 40
THE EXTERIOR WALLS
REMAINS OF THE FORTIFICATIONS IN THE JEWISH SUBURB]
[Illustration: PLATE 41
GATE OF THE “ALMOFALA” (BIB-AL-MOJADHA) REBUILT IN THE FOURTEENTH
CENTURY
“THE ABBOT’S TOWER” IN THE NORTHERN WALLS]
[Illustration: PLATE 42
RUINS OF THE AQUARIA TOWER, COMMONLY CALLED “HORNO DEL VIDRIO”]
[Illustration: PLATE 43
REMAINS OF THE AQUEDUCT (LEFT BANK OF THE RIVER)
REMAINS OF THE AQUEDUCT (RIGHT BANK OF THE RIVER)]
[Illustration: PLATE 44
REMAINS OF THE ROMAN CONSTRUCTION IN THE TOWER OF THE PLAZA DE ARMAS OF
THE BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 45
BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 46
EAST SIDE OF THE BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 47
POSTERIOR FAÇADE OF THE DEFENSIVE TOWER OF THE BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 48
DEFENSIVE TOWER OF THE BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA. ANTERIOR FAÇADE]
[Illustration: PLATE 49
ALCANTARA GATE]
[Illustration: PLATE 50
COMMEMORATIVE INSCRIPTION IN THE AVENUE OF THE DEFENSIVE TOWER OF THE
BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 51
COAT OF ARMS OF THE CATHOLIC SOVEREIGNS IN FRONT OF THE DEFENSIVE TOWER
OF THE BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA
“THE KHALIF’S CAPITALS” AT No. 13 CALLE DEL COLISEO]
[Illustration: PLATE 52
PERSPECTIVE OF THE BRIDGE OF ALCANTARA]
[Illustration: PLATE 53
ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE]
[Illustration: PLATE 54
ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE
FAÇADE OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 55
DEFENSIVE TOWERS AT THE ENTRANCE OF ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE AND THE TOWN
RESTORED POSTERIOR FAÇADE OF THE ARCH DE LA SANGRE]
[Illustration: PLATE 56
REMAINS OF THE AQUEDUCT (RIGHT BANK)]
[Illustration: PLATE 57
EAST SIDE OF ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE]
[Illustration: PLATE 58
DEFENSIVE TOWER OF ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE. FAÇADE SEEN FROM THE BRIDGE
DEFENSIVE TOWER OF ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE. FAÇADE SEEN FROM THE HIGHWAY]
[Illustration: PLATE 59
MALBARDÓN GATE. ELEVENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 60
VISAGRA GATE]
[Illustration: PLATE 61
UPPER PART OF THE VISAGRA GATE. BUILT IN 1550]
[Illustration: PLATE 62
TOWER IN THE CITY WALLS OF “THE SUBURB OF SAN ISIDORO,” NEAR THE NEW
BRIDGE OF VISAGRA]
[Illustration: PLATE 63
HYDRAULIC MACHINE AND REMAINS OF THE WALLS IN THE QUARTER OF THE
CURTIDORES, NEAR THE RIVER
WALLS OF THE SUBURB OF SAN ISIDORO]
[Illustration: PLATE 64
ANCIENT GATE OF VISAGRA]
[Illustration: PLATE 65
ANCIENT GATE OF VISAGRA. THE SIDE WHICH JOINS THE WALL AND THE SIDE
DEFENSIVE TOWER]
[Illustration: PLATE 66
ANCIENT GATE OF VISAGRA. DEFENSIVE AND SIDE TOWER]
[Illustration: PLATE 67
ANCIENT GATE OF VISAGRA. REMAINS OF THE EASTERN FAÇADE]
[Illustration: PLATE 68
DETAIL OF THE PRINCIPAL FAÇADE OF THE OLD GATE OF VISAGRA
INTERIOR OF THE OLD GATE OF VISAGRA]
[Illustration: PLATE 69
ANCIENT GATE OF VISAGRA]
[Illustration: PLATE 70
THE TOWER CALLED “PUERTA BAJA DE LA HERRERIA,” NOW “GATE OF THE SUN”]
[Illustration: PLATE 71
CASTLE OF SAN SERVANDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 72
CASTLE OF SAN SERVANDO. ANCIENT ENTRANCE IN THE WEST FAÇADE
CASTLE OF SAN SERVANDO. SOUTH-EAST ANGLE]
[Illustration: PLATE 73
DOOR OF THE CASTLE IN SAN SERVANDO]
[Illustration: PLATE 74
GATE OF VALMADRON]
[Illustration: PLATE 75
GATE OF CAMBRÓN]
[Illustration: PLATE 76
BAÑO DE LA CAVA]
[Illustration: PLATE 77
ENTRANCE TO CAVA BATHS]
[Illustration: PLATE 78
RUINS OF THE TOWER OF THE OLD BRIDGE OF BOATS, CALLED “BAÑO DE LA
CAVA”]
[Illustration: PLATE 79
DETAILS OF THE CONVENT OF SANTA FE.
ELEVENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 80
WEST PORTAL IN THE OLD HERMITAGE, NOW THE INN OF SANTA ANA, ON THE SISLA
ROAD]
[Illustration: PLATE 81
ALTAR-PIECE OF SAN JUSTO]
[Illustration: PLATE 82
DETAIL OF THE CHURCH OF SAN JUSTO.
FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 83
DETAIL OF THE CHAPEL OF SANTOS JUSTO AND PASTOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 84
EFFIGIES OF JUAN GUAS, ARCHITECT OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES, AND OF HIS
SON. CHAPEL OF CHRIST AT THE COLUMN, IN THE PARISH CHURCH OF SAN JUSTO]
[Illustration: PLATE 85
EFFIGIES OF MARI ALVARES, WIFE OF JUAN GUAS, AND OF HER DAUGHTER. CHAPEL
OF CHRIST AT THE COLUMN, IN THE PARISH CHURCH OF SAN JUSTO]
[Illustration: PLATE 86
MOSQUE OF THE TORNERIAS. EXTERIOR OF THE SOUTH FAÇADE, SOUTH-WEST
ANGLE]
[Illustration: PLATE 87
INTERIOR OF THE MOSQUE DE LAS TORNERIAS]
[Illustration: PLATE 88
ARCH OF THE “KIBLÁH” IN THE MOSQUE DE LAS TORNERIAS]
[Illustration: PLATE 89
MOSQUE OF THE TORNERIAS. TREFOIL ARCHED WINDOW
MOSQUE OF THE TORNERIAS. HORSE-SHOE WINDOW]
[Illustration: PLATE 90
MOSQUE OF THE TORNERIAS. ARCHED WINDOW
MOSQUE OF THE TORNERIAS. RECTANGULAR WINDOW]
[Illustration: PLATE 91
MOSQUE DE LAS TORNERIAS]
[Illustration: PLATE 92
MOSQUE OF THE TORNERIAS, BUILT OVER ROMAN REMAINS]
[Illustration: PLATE 93
SUPPOSED ELEVATION OF THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM]
[Illustration: PLATE 94
SUPPOSED PLAN OF THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM]
[Illustration: PLATE 95
ACTUAL SITUATION OF THE NORTH-EAST FAÇADE OF THE ANCIENT MOSQUE OF
BIB-AL-MARDÓM, A TRANSEPT AND _MUDEJAR_ APSIS OF THE HERMITAGE OF SANTO
CRISTO DE LA LUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 96
THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM, HORSE-SHOE ARCH AND REMAINS OF THE DADO AND
LITTLE ARCHES AND WINDOWS IN THE NORTH-EAST FAÇADE (RIGHT SIDE)]
[Illustration: PLATE 97
THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM, HORSE-SHOE ARCH AND REMAINS OF THE DADO OF
LITTLE ARCHES AND WINDOWS IN THE NORTH-EAST FAÇADE (LEFT SIDE)]
[Illustration: PLATE 98
PRINCIPAL NAVE IN THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM]
[Illustration: PLATE 99
ARCH IN THE SOUTHERN INTERIOR OF THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM
ACTUAL ENTRANCE TO THE CASTLE]
[Illustration: PLATE 100
MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM. ARCH IN THE INTERIOR WALL, SOUTH-WEST ANGLE
DETAIL OF THE NORTH-WEST FAÇADE OF THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM]
[Illustration: PLATE 101
BIB-AL-MARDÓM. “ARCH OF THE CROSS”
INTERIOR FAÇADE
EXTERIOR FAÇADE]
[Illustration: PLATE 102
MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM]
[Illustration: PLATE 103
NORTH-WEST FAÇADE OF THE MOSQUE OF BIB-AL-MARDÓM (HERMITAGE OF SANTO
CRISTO DE LA LUZ), DISCOVERED IN FEBRUARY 1899]
[Illustration: PLATE 104
THE EPIGRAPHIC MEDALLION ON THE NORTH-WEST FAÇADE OF THE MOSQUE OF
BIB-AL-MARDÓM (HERMITAGE OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ), REBUILT IN THE YEAR
370 AFTER THE HEGIRA (A.D. 980)]
[Illustration: PLATE 105
VISIGOTH CAPITAL IN THE OLD MOORISH PARISH CHURCH OF SAN SEBASTIAN
VISIGOTH BASE WHICH SERVES AS A CAPITAL IN THE OLD MOORISH PARISH CHURCH
OF SAN SEBASTIAN]
[Illustration: PLATE 106
SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 107
THE HERMITAGE OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 108
WALL-PAINTINGS OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 109
CHURCH OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 110
WALL-PAINTINGS OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 111
ANCIENT MOSQUE, NOW THE HERMITAGE OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 112
EXTERIOR OF THE HERMITAGE OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ, AND TOWERS OF
VARIOUS CHURCHES]
[Illustration: PLATE 113
DETAIL OF THE TRANSITO (SYNAGOGUE), BUILT IN 1360 AT THE EXPENSE OF
SAMUEL LEVI]
[Illustration: PLATE 114
DETAILS OF THE INTERIOR DECORATION OF THE CHURCH OF THE TRANSITO
(ANCIENT SYNAGOGUE)]
[Illustration: PLATE 115
DETAILS OF THE INTERIOR DECORATION OE THE CHURCH OF THE TRANSITO
(ANCIENT SYNAGOGUE)]
[Illustration: PLATE 116
DETAILS OF THE TRANSITO (SYNAGOGUE)]
[Illustration: PLATE 117
DETAILS OF THE TRANSITO (SYNAGOGUE)]
[Illustration: PLATE 118
DETAILS OF THE TRANSITO (SYNAGOGUE)]
[Illustration: PLATE 119
ENTRANCE ARCH IN THE BUILDING CALLED TALLER DEL MORO]
[Illustration: PLATE 120
DETAIL OF DECORATION IN THE MOORISH WORKSHOP]
[Illustration: PLATE 121
DETAILS OF THE PALACE OF THE AYALAS]
[Illustration: PLATE 122
DETAILS OF THE PALACE OF THE AYALAS]
[Illustration: PLATE 123
EXTERIOR OF THE CHAPEL OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA VEGA]
[Illustration: PLATE 124
DOOR AND EXTERIOR OF SANTA MARIA LA BLANCA]
[Illustration: PLATE 125
SECTIONS AND DETAILS OF THE ANCIENT SYNAGOGUE, NOW THE CHURCH OF SANTA
MARIA LA BLANCA]
[Illustration: PLATE 126
PART OF THE LONGITUDINAL SECTION OF THE ANCIENT SYNAGOGUE, NOW THE
CHURCH OF SANTA MARIA LA BLANCA]
[Illustration: PLATE 127
INTERIOR OF SANTA MARIA LA BLANCA]
[Illustration: PLATE 128
INTERIOR OF SANTA MARIA LA BLANCA]
[Illustration: PLATE 129
INTERIOR OF SANTA MARIA LA BLANCA]
[Illustration: PLATE 130
CÁRCEL DE SANTA HERMANDAD]
[Illustration: PLATE 131
A GOTHIC DOORWAY]
[Illustration: PLATE 132
A DOORWAY]
[Illustration: PLATE 133
ST. MICHAEL’S TOWER. FOURTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 134
HOUSE OF THE TOLEDOS]
[Illustration: PLATE 135
DETAILS OF A COURTYARD]
[Illustration: PLATE 136
DETAILS OF A COURTYARD]
[Illustration: PLATE 137
DETAILS OF A COURTYARD]
[Illustration: PLATE 138
DETAILS OF A COURTYARD]
[Illustration: PLATE 139
DETAILS OF A COURTYARD]
[Illustration: PLATE 140
THE FOUNTAIN OF CALERAHIGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 141
ARAB DETAILS]
[Illustration: PLATE 142
VISIGOTH CROWNS AND CROSSES OF GUARRAZAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 143
VISIGOTH CROWNS AND CROSSES OF GUARRAZAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 144
VISIGOTH CROWNS AND CROSSES FOUND AT TOLEDO AND NOW IN THE ROYAL ARMOURY
AT MADRID]
[Illustration: PLATE 145
SAN PEDRO MARTIN
CALLE DE SANTO TOMÉ]
[Illustration: PLATE 146
ALCAZAR ROYAL PALACE. REPRODUCTION OF THE ENGRAVING MADE IN 1566 FOR
BRAUN’S “CIVITATES ORBI TERRARUM”]
[Illustration: PLATE 147
PERSPECTIVE OF THE ALCAZAR IN 1845. EAST AND NORTH FAÇADES. REPRODUCTION
OF AN ENGRAVING IN THE WORK “TOLEDO PINTORESCA”]
[Illustration: PLATE 148
THE ALCAZAR. TAKEN FROM THE PLAZA DE ZOCODOVER]
[Illustration: PLATE 149
SOUTH FAÇADE OF THE ALCAZAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 150
THE ALCAZAR. WEST FAÇADE AFTER THE LATEST RESTORATION]
[Illustration: PLATE 151
THE ALCAZAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 152
ALCAZAR. PRINCIPAL FAÇADE ON THE NORTH]
[Illustration: PLATE 153
THE ALCAZAR. EAST FAÇADE, AFTER THE LATEST RESTORATION]
[Illustration: PLATE 154
GENERAL VIEW OF THE ALCAZAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 155
THE ALCAZAR. THE PRINCIPAL STAIRCASE]
[Illustration: PLATE 156
THE ALCAZAR. PRINCIPAL NORTH PORTAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 157
THE ALCAZAR. COURT AND PLAN]
[Illustration: PLATE 158
COURT OF THE ALCAZAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 159
COURT IN THE ALCAZAR. AFTER THE LATEST RESTORATION]
[Illustration: PLATE 160
THE ALCAZAR. PLAN AND DETAILS. NORTH FAÇADE]
[Illustration: PLATE 161
DETAILS OF THE NORTH FAÇADE OF THE ALCAZAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 162
DOOR OF THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 163
DETAILS OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 164
DETAILS OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 165
DETAILS OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 166
DETAILS OF THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 167
DETAILS OF THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 168
DETAILS OF THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 169
DETAILS OF THE HOUSE OF MESA]
[Illustration: PLATE 170
DOORWAY OF THE COLLEGE OF THE INFANTES. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 171
DOORWAY OF THE PALACE OF THE MARTINEZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 172
ROMAN TOWER OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES
CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 173
EXTERIOR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 174
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 175
PLAN OF THE CHURCH AND PROCESSIONAL CLOISTER OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 176
DOORWAY IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 177
GOTHIC DOORWAY IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 178
EXTERIOR OF THE ARCH OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 179
INTERIOR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 180
INTERIOR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 181
INTERIOR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 182
LONGITUDINAL SECTION OF THE CHURCH OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 183
INTERIOR, SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES
RETABLO, SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 184
GALLERY IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 185
GALLERY IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 186
DETAILS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 187
DETAILS OF GALLERY IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 188
DETAILS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 189
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. WALL IN THE PRESBYTERY]
[Illustration: PLATE 190
INTERIOR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 191
INTERIOR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 192
INTERIOR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 193
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DECORATION IN THE TRANSVERSE NAVE]
[Illustration: PLATE 194
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DETAILS OF THE ARMS OF ISABELLA THE CATHOLIC]
[Illustration: PLATE 195
DETAILS OF THE TRANSEPT OF THE CHURCH OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 196
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. INTERIOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 197
A DOME IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 198
REMAINS OF WINDOWS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 199
DETAILS OF THE CROSS-AISLE IN THE CHURCH OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 200
ALTAR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES
ALTAR OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 201
DETAILS OF THE ALTAR-PIECE IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 202
COPY OF THE ORIGINAL DRAWING OF THE ARCH AND CROSS-AISLE OF SAN JUAN DE
LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 203
LONGITUDINAL SECTION OF THE CLOISTER OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 204
CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 205
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. THE CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 206
CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 207
CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 208
DETAILS OF THE CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 209
COMPARTMENT OF THE CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 210
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DETAILS OF THE CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 211
DETAILS OF THE CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 212
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DETAILS OF THE CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 213
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DETAILS OF THE CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 214
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DETAILS OF THE CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 215
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DETAILS OF THE CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 216
CHURCH OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. COURTYARD]
[Illustration: PLATE 217
COURT IN SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 218
DOORWAY OF THE MUSEUM OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES]
[Illustration: PLATE 219
SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES. DETAILS ABOVE DOOR OF MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 220
PALACE OF DON PEDRO THE CRUEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 221
DETAILS OF THE PALACE OF DON PEDRO THE CRUEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 222
FAÇADE OF THE PALACE OF DON PEDRO THE CRUEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 223
DOORWAY OF THE PALACE OF DON PEDRO THE CRUEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 224
DOORWAY OF THE PALACE OF DON PEDRO THE CRUEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 225
THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 226
GENERAL VIEW OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 227
THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 228
SECTION OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 229
LONGITUDINAL SECTION OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 230
TRANSVERSE SECTION OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 231
PRINCIPAL FAÇADE OF THE CATHEDRAL AND TOWER]
[Illustration: PLATE 232
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE EXTERIOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 233
THE CATHEDRAL. PORTAL OF THE PRINCIPAL FAÇADE]
[Illustration: PLATE 234
THE CATHEDRAL. PRINCIPAL GATE]
[Illustration: PLATE 235
THE CATHEDRAL. THE GATE OF THE LIONS]
[Illustration: PLATE 236
THE CATHEDRAL. PORCH OF THE PRINCIPAL FAÇADE]
[Illustration: PLATE 237
THE CATHEDRAL
THE LION DOOR
THE LION DOOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 238
DOOR OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 239
THE CATHEDRAL. DOOR OF THE LOST CHILD]
[Illustration: PLATE 240
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PUERTA DE LA FERIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 241
CATHEDRAL. GATE OF THE CONCEPTION]
[Illustration: PLATE 242
THE CATHEDRAL. ORNAMENTAL DETAILS OF THE GATES]
[Illustration: PLATE 243
THE CATHEDRAL
CENTRAL NAVE
TOMB OF ALONSO DE CARRILLO]
[Illustration: PLATE 244
THE CATHEDRAL. GENERAL VIEW OF THE INTERIOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 245
THE CATHEDRAL. GENERAL VIEW OF THE INTERIOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 246
THE CATHEDRAL. INTERIOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 247
THE CATHEDRAL. INTERIOR]
[Illustration: PLATE 248
WINDOWS IN THE PRINCIPAL NAVE OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 249
THE CATHEDRAL. GRATING OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 250
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 251
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 252
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 253
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 254
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 255
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 256
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 257
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 258
THE CATHEDRAL. ALTAR-PIECE OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 259
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE ALTAR-PIECE OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 260
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE HIGH ALTAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 261
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE HIGH ALTAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 262
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE HIGH ALTAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 263
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE ALTAR-PIECE]
[Illustration: PLATE 264
THE CATHEDRAL. FRONTAL OF THE HIGH ALTAR. FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 265
THE CATHEDRAL. FRONTAL OF THE HIGH ALTAR. FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 266
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE FRONTAL OF THE HIGH ALTAR]
[Illustration: PLATE 267
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 268
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRE OF CARDINAL MENDOZA IN THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 269
THE CATHEDRAL. DOME OF THE PRINCIPAL CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 270
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 271
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 272
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE EXTERIOR OF THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 273
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 274
THE CATHEDRAL. CHOIR STALLS]
[Illustration: PLATE 275
THE CATHEDRAL. CHOIR STALLS]
[Illustration: PLATE 276
THE CATHEDRAL. CHOIR STALLS]
[Illustration: PLATE 277
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE CHOIR STALLS, REPRESENTING THE RE-CONQUEST
OF GRANADA BY FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 278
THE CATHEDRAL. INTERIOR OF THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 279
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 280
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 281
THE CATHEDRAL. THE ARCHBISHOP’S THRONE, REPRESENTING THE
TRANSFIGURATION. BY BERRUGUETE]
[Illustration: PLATE 282
THE CATHEDRAL. VIRGIN OF THE LANEROS]
[Illustration: PLATE 283
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 284
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 285
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 286
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 287
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF CHOIR STALLS. THE CAPTURE OF ALHAMA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA, 1482. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA]
[Illustration: PLATE 288
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 289
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 290
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 291
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 292
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 293
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE CHOIR STALLS. RE-CONQUEST OF GRANADA BY
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 294
THE CATHEDRAL. UPPER PART OF THE CHOIR STALLS, CARVED BY BERRUGUETE AND
BORGOÑA. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 295
THE CATHEDRAL. UPPER PART OF THE CHOIR STALLS, CARVED BY BERRUGUETE AND
BORGOÑA. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 296
THE CATHEDRAL. UPPER PART OF THE CHOIR STALLS, CARVED BY BERRUGUETE AND
BORGOÑA. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 297
THE CATHEDRAL. UPPER PART OF THE CHOIR STALLS, CARVED BY BERRUGUETE AND
BORGOÑA. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 298
THE CATHEDRAL. UPPER PART OF THE CHOIR STALLS, CARVED BY BERRUGUETE AND
BORGOÑA. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 299
THE CATHEDRAL. UPPER PART OF THE CHOIR STALLS, CARVED BY BERRUGUETE AND
BORGOÑA. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 300
THE CATHEDRAL. UPPER PART OF THE CHOIR STALLS, CARVED BY BERRUGUETE AND
BORGOÑA. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 301
THE CATHEDRAL. MASONRY IN THE CHOIR]
[Illustration: PLATE 302
THE CATHEDRAL. EXTERIOR OF THE PRESBYTERY]
[Illustration: PLATE 303
THE CATHEDRAL. INTERIOR OF THE CHAPEL OF THE NEW KINGS WITH THE
SEPULCHRES OF DON HENRY THE BASTARD AND HIS WIFE]
[Illustration: PLATE 304
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRES OF DON HENRY THE BASTARD AND HIS WIFE IN THE
CHAPEL OF THE NEW KINGS]
[Illustration: PLATE 305
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRE OF CARDINAL TAVERA IN THE CHAPEL OF THE NEW
KINGS]
[Illustration: PLATE 306
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRE OF DON JUAN I. IN THE CHAPEL OF THE NEW KINGS]
[Illustration: PLATE 307
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRE OF DOÑA LEONOR, WIFE OF DON JUAN I., IN THE
CHAPEL OF THE NEW KINGS]
[Illustration: PLATE 308
THE CATHEDRAL. CHAPEL OF THE DESCENT OF THE VIRGIN]
[Illustration: PLATE 309
THE CATHEDRAL. MUZARABIC CHAPEL]
[Illustration: PLATE 310
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE CHAPEL OF THE VIRGEN DE LA ANTIGUA]
[Illustration: PLATE 311
THE CATHEDRAL. CHAPEL OF THE VIRGEN DE LA ANTIGUA. FOURTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 312
THE CATHEDRAL. DOORWAY OF THE CHAPEL OF THE CANONS]
[Illustration: PLATE 313
ALTAR-PIECE OF SANTA ISABEL
ALTAR-PIECE OF SANTA CATALINA]
[Illustration: PLATE 314
ALTAR-PIECE OF SANTA CATALINA]
[Illustration: PLATE 315
ALTAR-PIECE OF SANTA CATALINA]
[Illustration: PLATE 316
ALTAR-PIECE OF SANTA CATALINA]
[Illustration: PLATE 317
CHAPEL OF SANTA CATALINA. FOUNDED BY THE COUNTS OF CEDILLO]
[Illustration: PLATE 318
THE CATHEDRAL. CHAPEL OF SANTIAGO, CONTAINING THE SEPULCHRES OF DON
ALVARO DE LUNA AND THAT OF HIS WIFE DOÑA JUANA. FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 319
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRE OF DON JUAN DE ZEREZUELA IN THE CHAPEL OF
SANTIAGO. FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 320
CUPOLA OF THE CHAPEL “DE LOS REYES NUEVOS” IN THE CATHEDRAL
CUPOLA OF THE “CAPILLA DE SANTIAGO,” CALLED “DE DON ALVARO DE LUNA” IN
THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 321
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRE OF DON GIL CARRILLO DE ALBORNOZ IN THE CHAPEL
OF SAN ILDEFONSO]
[Illustration: PLATE 322
THE CATHEDRAL. SEPULCHRE OF GIL DE ALBORNOZ IN THE CHAPEL OF SAN
ILDEFONSO]
[Illustration: PLATE 323
THE CATHEDRAL. ENTRANCE TO THE CHAPTER ROOM. SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 324
THE CATHEDRAL. CHAPTER ROOM]
[Illustration: PLATE 325
THE CATHEDRAL. VARIOUS PORTRAITS OF CARDINALS]
[Illustration: PLATE 326
THE CATHEDRAL. VARIOUS PORTRAITS OF CARDINALS]
[Illustration: PLATE 327
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS IN THE CHAPTER ROOM]
[Illustration: PLATE 328
THE CATHEDRAL. CHAPTER ROOM]
[Illustration: PLATE 329
THE CATHEDRAL. DOORWAY OF THE CHAPTER ROOM]
[Illustration: PLATE 330
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF A DOORWAY IN THE CHAPTER ROOM]
[Illustration: PLATE 331
THE CATHEDRAL. CUPBOARD MADE BY GREGORIO PARDO (1549-1551), FOR THE
ANTECHAMBER OF THE CHAPTER HOUSE]
[Illustration: PLATE 332
CUPBOARD IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 333
THE CATHEDRAL. A RICH AND GOSSAMER CARVED CEILING IN THE CHAPTER HALL
SIXTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 334
THE CATHEDRAL. CEILING IN THE CHAPTER HALL]
[Illustration: PLATE 335
THE CATHEDRAL. A CEILING IN THE ANTE-ROOM]
[Illustration: PLATE 336
THE CATHEDRAL CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 337
THE CATHEDRAL CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 338
PRESENTATION PORTAL IN THE CLOISTER OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 339
EXTERIOR, BY THE CLOISTERS OF THE CHAPEL, OF THE PLACE OF SEPULTURE
BUILT BY HENRY II. FOR HIS TOMB]
[Illustration: PLATE 340
THE CATHEDRAL. PICTURE BY BAYEU IN THE CLOISTERS]
[Illustration: PLATE 341
PORTAL OF ST. CATHARINE IN THE CLOISTER OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 342
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE GATE OF THE PRESENTATION IN THE CLOISTER]
[Illustration: PLATE 343
THE CATHEDRAL. RELIQUARY OF SAN SEBASTIAN IN THE OCTAVO]
[Illustration: PLATE 344
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF THE RELIQUARY OF SAN SEBASTIAN IN THE OCTAVO]
[Illustration: PLATE 345
THE CATHEDRAL. A BYZANTINE RELIQUARY]
[Illustration: PLATE 346
SEPULCHRES IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 347
SCULPTURE IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 348
THE CATHEDRAL. BRONZE LECTERN AND BOOKS OF HOLY OFFICE]
[Illustration: PLATE 349
THE CATHEDRAL. A BRONZE PULPIT]
[Illustration: PLATE 350
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAIL OF A PULPIT]
[Illustration: PLATE 351
PULPIT IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 352
CATHEDRAL BELLS WHICH RING WHEN THE HOST IS ELEVATED]
[Illustration: PLATE 353
THE CATHEDRAL. STATUE OF DON JUAN II. FIFTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 354
THE CATHEDRAL. ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI]
[Illustration: PLATE 355
THE CATHEDRAL. A PICTURE BY BAYEU]
[Illustration: PLATE 356
DETAILS IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 357
THE CATHEDRAL. COVER OF A MISSAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 358
THE CATHEDRAL. SILVER SALVER, “THE ABDUCTION OF THE SABINE WOMEN” BY
BENVENUTO CELLINI]
[Illustration: PLATE 359
THE CATHEDRAL. CHALICE AND PATEN]
[Illustration: PLATE 360
THE CATHEDRAL. A SHIP THAT BELONGED TO QUEEN JUANA LA LOCA]
[Illustration: PLATE 361
MONSTRANCE IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 362
THE CATHEDRAL. SWORD OF ALFONSO VI.]
[Illustration: PLATE 363
THE CATHEDRAL. THE ADORATION OF THE KINGS (SILK)]
[Illustration: PLATE 364
THE CATHEDRAL. THE VEIL OF SANTA LEOCADIA (SILK)]
[Illustration: PLATE 365
THE CATHEDRAL. THE ASSUMPTION (SILK)]
[Illustration: PLATE 366
THE CATHEDRAL. THE BEHEADING OF SAN EUGENIO (SILK)]
[Illustration: PLATE 367
KUFIC ENTABLATURE IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 368
THE CATHEDRAL. A DALMATIC EMBROIDERED IN GOLD AND SILK. SIXTEENTH
CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 369
THE CATHEDRAL. A CHASUBLE EMBROIDERED IN GOLD AND SILK. SIXTEENTH
CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 370
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PUERTA DEL RELOJ]
[Illustration: PLATE 371
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PUERTA DEL RELOJ]
[Illustration: PLATE 372
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PUERTA DEL RELOJ]
[Illustration: PLATE 373
THE CATHEDRAL. DETAILS OF THE PUERTA DEL RELOJ]
[Illustration: PLATE 374
EFFIGIES OF JUAN GUAS (ARCHITECT OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES), HIS WIFE,
AND CHILDREN]
[Illustration: PLATE 375
SCULPTURE IN SAN ANDRES]
[Illustration: PLATE 376
BANNER OF THE SALADO]
[Illustration: PLATE 377
ST. PETER NATANO AND ST. THERESA SCULPTURED IN WOOD]
[Illustration: PLATE 378
PLAN OF THE SANTA IGLESIA PRIMADA]
[Illustration: PLATE 379
SANTA ISABEL. SIDE ALTAR-PIECE]
[Illustration: PLATE 380
SANTA ISABEL. DETAIL OF AN ALTAR-PIECE]
[Illustration: PLATE 381
PARISH CHURCH OF SANTIAGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 382
EXTERIOR OF SANTIAGO DEL ARRABAL. THIRTEENTH CENTURY]
[Illustration: PLATE 383
PULPIT IN THE CHURCH OF SANTIAGO DEL ARRABAL, FROM WHICH SAN VICENTE DE
FERRER PREACHED AGAINST THE JEWS]
[Illustration: PLATE 384
PAROCHIAL CHURCH OF SANTIAGO DEL ARRABAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 385
CHURCH OF SAN TOMÉ]
[Illustration: PLATE 386
DETAIL OF AN ALTAR-PIECE IN THE CHURCH OF THE TRINITY]
[Illustration: PLATE 387
SEPULCHRES IN THE CHURCH OF ST. PETER THE MARTYR]
[Illustration: PLATE 388
DETAILS OF A SEPULCHRE IN THE CHURCH OF ST. PETER THE MARTYR]
[Illustration: PLATE 389
CHURCH OF ST. PETER THE MARTYR. STATUE OF A KNEELING CANON]
[Illustration: PLATE 390
CHAPEL IN SAN JUAN DE LA PENITENCIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 391
CHAPEL IN SAN JUAN DE LA PENITENCIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 392
DETAILS OF SAN JUAN DE LA PENITENCIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 393
SEPULCHRE IN SAN JUAN DE LA PENITENCIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 394
SEPULCHRE IN SAN JUAN DE LA PENITENCIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 395
DETAIL OF THE CONVENT OF SAN JUAN DE LA PENITENCIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 396
DETAILS OF THE CONVENT OF SAN JUAN DE LA PENITENCIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 397
CONVENT OF SANTO DOMINGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 398
CONVENT OF SANTO DOMINGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 399
CONVENT OF SANTO DOMINGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 400
ANCIENT SEPULCHRE IN THE CONVENT OF SANTO DOMINGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 401
SANTO DOMINGO EL REAL, PRINCIPAL ALTAR-PIECE]
[Illustration: PLATE 402
DOORWAY OF THE CONVENT OF SAN ANTONIO]
[Illustration: PLATE 403
PORCH OF THE CHURCH AND CONVENT OF SAN CLEMENTE]
[Illustration: PLATE 404
PORCH OF THE CHURCH AND CONVENT OF SAN CLEMENTE]
[Illustration: PLATE 405
DETAIL OF THE INTERIOR OF THE CONVENT OF SAN CLEMENTE]
[Illustration: PLATE 406
PORTAL OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 407
PORTAL OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 408
PORCH OF SANTA CRUZ
THE HOSPITAL OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 409
COURT OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 410
COURTYARD OF THE HOSPITAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 411
COURT OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 412
COURT OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 413
DETAIL OF THE PORTAL OF THE HOSPITAL OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 414
DETAILS OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 415
HOSPITAL OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 416
PORTALS IN THE VESTIBULE OF THE ANCIENT HOSPITAL OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 417
HOSPITAL OF SANTA CRUZ. PORTRAIT OF THE FOUNDER, CARDINAL MENDOZA]
[Illustration: PLATE 418
HOSPITAL DE AFUERA. THE COURT]
[Illustration: PLATE 419
HOSPITAL DE AFUERA]
[Illustration: PLATE 420
HOSPITAL OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST]
[Illustration: PLATE 421
HOSPITAL DE AFUERA. SEPULCHRE OF CARDINAL TAVERA. 1557. ALONZO
BERRUGUETE]
[Illustration: PLATE 422
THE UNIVERSITY
THE UNIVERSITY]
[Illustration: PLATE 423
DETAILS OF THE HOUSE OF MUNÁRRIZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 424
GATE OF AL MARDÓM
ALTAR OF THE CHURCH OF SAN JUSTO]
[Illustration: PLATE 425
PORTAL OF THE ARCHBISHOP’S PALACE
IN THE TOWN HALL]
[Illustration: PLATE 426
CLOISTERS OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES
VIEW OF ST. MARTIN’S BRIDGE, LOOKING DOWN THE RIVER]
[Illustration: PLATE 427
GALLERY OF SAN JUAN DE LOS REYES
A MOORISH WORKSHOP]
[Illustration: PLATE 428
HOTEL CASTILLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 429
DETAIL OF THE COURTYARD OF THE HOTEL CASTILLA]
[Illustration: PLATE 430
VISIGOTH CAPITALS IN THE CHURCH OF SAN SEBASTIAN]
[Illustration: PLATE 431
NATIONAL ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM
CAPITAL, FOURTH CENTURY AFTER THE HEGIRA
CAPITAL OF SANTIAGO DE LOS CABALLEROS NEAR THE ALCAZAR. FOURTH CENTURY
AFTER THE HEGIRA]
[Illustration: PLATE 432
CAPITAL IN THE ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 433
FRAGMENT OF DADO FOUND NEAR THE BASILICA OF SANTA LEOCADIA
WINDOW OF SAN GINÉS
NATIONAL ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 434
NATIONAL ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM. DECORATIVE TABLE IN WHITE MARBLE,
BELONGING TO THE ALJAMA MOSQUE OF TOLEDO
NATIONAL ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM. DECORATIVE FRAGMENT FOUND AT THE
“MIRADERO.” CARVED IN WHITE MARBLE]
[Illustration: PLATE 435
CAPITAL IN THE SOUTH-WEST ANGLE, BELONGING TO THE OLD MOSQUE, NOW THE
HERMITAGE OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ
THE FIFTH OF THE VISIGOTH CAPITALS OF THE HOSPITAL OF SANTA CRUZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 436
NATIONAL ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM. SKY-LIGHT OR ORNAMENT FOUND AT TOLEDO
VISIGOTH CAPITAL IN THE PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 437
ARCHITECTURAL FRAGMENTS OF THE VISIGOTH PERIOD IN THE PARISH CHURCH OF
SAN ROMÁN]
[Illustration: PLATE 438
ARCHITECTURAL PIECES OF THE VISIGOTH PERIOD EXISTING IN THE CITY]
[Illustration: PLATE 439
ARCHITECTURAL FRAGMENTS OF THE VISIGOTH PERIOD]
[Illustration: PLATE 440
CAPITAL OF THE SOUTH-EAST ANGLE BELONGING TO THE ANCIENT MOSQUE, NOW THE
HERMITAGE OF SANTO CRISTO DE LA LUZ
VISIGOTH CAPITAL OF THE OLD PARISH CHURCH OF SAN SEBASTIAN]
[Illustration: PLATE 441
NATIONAL ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM. VISIGOTH CAPITALS OF THE CHURCH OF SANTA
EULALIA. FRAGMENT OF THE DADO OF THE BASILICA OF SANTO LEOCADIA]
[Illustration: PLATE 442
CAPITALS IN THE ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 443
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM. CAPITAL OF THE FOURTH CENTURY AFTER THE HEGIRA
NATIONAL ARCHÆOLOGICAL MUSEUM. ARAB ASTROLABE MADE AT TOLEDO IN THE YEAR
459 AFTER THE HEGIRA (A.D. 1067)]
[Illustration: PLATE 444
ARCHITECTURAL FRAGMENTS OF THE VISIGOTH PERIOD]
[Illustration: PLATE 445
ARCHITECTURAL FRAGMENTS ANTERIOR TO THE MAHOMETAN IRRUPTION, No. 1]
[Illustration: PLATE 446
ARCHITECTURAL PARTS AND DECORATIVE REMAINS ANTERIOR TO THE MAHOMETAN
IRRUPTION, No. 2]
[Illustration: PLATE 447
ARCHITECTURAL PARTS AND DECORATIVE FRAGMENTS ANTERIOR TO THE MAHOMETAN
IRRUPTION, No. 3]
[Illustration: PLATE 448
ARCHES OF VARIOUS CHURCHES OF THE FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES]
[Illustration: PLATE 449
DENUDATION OF OUR LORD BEFORE THE CRUCIFIXION
EL GRECO
SACRISTY OF THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 450
THE VIRGIN, ST. ANNE, THE CHILD JESUS AND ST. JOHN
EL GRECO
CHAPEL OF ST. ANNE]
[Illustration: PLATE 451
OUR LADY OF SORROWS
EL GRECO
SACRISTY OF THE NEW KINGS, IN THE CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 452
PENTECOST
EL GRECO
CHURCH OF THE TRINITY]
[Illustration: PLATE 453
JESUS AND ST. JOHN
EL GRECO
CHURCH OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST]
[Illustration: PLATE 454
THE ASSUMPTION
EL GRECO
CHAPEL OF SAN JOSÉ]
[Illustration: PLATE 455
ST. MARTIN
EL GRECO
CHAPEL OE SAN JOSÉ]
[Illustration: PLATE 456
THE HOLY EUCHARIST. BY EL GRECO CHURCH OF SAN JOSÉ]
[Illustration: PLATE 457
SAN JOSÉ AND THE CHILD JESUS
EL GRECO
PARISH CHURCH OF THE MAGDALENE]
[Illustration: PLATE 458
THE INTERMENT OF COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO
CHURCH OF SANTO TOMÉ]
[Illustration: PLATE 459
DETAIL OF THE INTERMENT OF COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 460
FRAGMENT OF THE INTERMENT OF THE COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 461
FRAGMENT OF THE INTERMENT OF THE COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 462
FRAGMENT OF THE INTERMENT OF THE COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 463
FRAGMENT OF THE INTERMENT OF THE COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 464
FRAGMENT OF THE INTERMENT OF THE COUNT DE ORGAZ]
[Illustration: PLATE 465
FRAGMENT OF THE INTERMENT OF THE COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 466
FRAGMENT OF THE INTERMENT OF THE COUNT DE ORGAZ
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 467
THE ANNUNCIATION
EL GRECO
PARISH CHURCH OF SAN NICHOLÁS]
[Illustration: PLATE 468
THE CRUCIFIXION
EL GRECO
SAN NICHOLÁS]
[Illustration: PLATE 469
SAN PEDRO NOLASCO
EL GRECO
PARISH CHURCH OF SAN NICHOLÁS]
[Illustration: PLATE 470
THE ASSUMPTION
EL GRECO
PARISH CHURCH OF SAN VICENTE]
[Illustration: PLATE 471
SAN EUGENIO
EL GRECO
PARISH CHURCH OF SAN VICENTE]
[Illustration: PLATE 472
ST. PETER
EL GRECO
PARISH CHURCH OF SAN VICENTE]
[Illustration: PLATE 473
JESUS AND THE VIRGIN
EL GRECO
PARISH CHURCH OF SAN VICENTE]
[Illustration: PLATE 474
THE ASCENSION
EL GRECO
SANTO DOMINGO EL ANTIGUA]
[Illustration: PLATE 475
A SAINT (? SANTO DOMINGO EL ANTIGUA)
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 476
THE BIRTH OF JESUS
EL GRECO
SANTO DOMINGO EL ANTIGUA]
[Illustration: PLATE 477
SANTA VERONICA WITH THE SUDARIUM
EL GRECO
SANTO DOMINGO EL ANTIGUA]
[Illustration: PLATE 478
ST. JOHN BAPTIST
EL GRECO
SANTO DOMINGO EL ANTIGUA]
[Illustration: PLATE 479
ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST
EL GRECO
CHURCH OF SANTO DOMINGO]
[Illustration: PLATE 480
ALTAR-PIECE OF THE CONVENT OF SANTO DOMINGO
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 481
ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI
EL GRECO
COLLEGE OF NOBLE LADIES]
[Illustration: PLATE 482
THE BAPTISM OF JESUS
EL GRECO
HOSPITAL OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST]
[Illustration: PLATE 483
PORTRAIT OF CARDINAL TAVERA
EL GRECO
HOSPITAL OF ST. JOHN BAPTIST]
[Illustration: PLATE 484
VIEW OF THE HIGH ALTAR OF THE TAVERA HOSPITAL
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 485
GENERAL VIEW OF TOLEDO (LEFT HALF)
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 486
GENERAL VIEW OF TOLEDO (RIGHT HALF)
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 487
VIEW OF TOLEDO
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 488
PORTRAIT OF ANTONIO COVARRUBIAS
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 489
PORTRAIT OF THE SON OF COVARRUBIAS
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 490
THE CRUCIFIXION
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 491
ALLEGORY OF THE VIRGIN
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 492
PORTRAIT OF JUAN DE AVILA
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 493
OUR SAVIOUR
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 494
ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 495
ST. PETER
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 496
ST. MATTHIAS
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 497
ST. PHILIP
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 498
ST. ANDREW
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 499
ST. THOMAS
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 500
ST. SIMON
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 501
ST. MATTHEW
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 502
ST. JUDE TADEO
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 503
AN APOSTLE
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 504
AN APOSTLE
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 505
AN APOSTLE
EL GRECO
PROVINCIAL MUSEUM]
[Illustration: PLATE 506
THE ANNUNCIATION
EL GRECO]
[Illustration: PLATE 507
THE DREAM OF PHILIP II.
EL GRECO
CHAPTER HALL OF THE ESCORIAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 508
ST. MAURICE AND THE THEBAN LEGION
EL GRECO
CHAPTER HALL OF THE ESCORIAL]
[Illustration: PLATE 509
PORTRAIT OF EL GRECO BY HIMSELF
SEÑOR A. DE BERUETE, MADRID]
[Illustration: PLATE 510
CHRIST DRIVING THE MONEY-CHANGERS FROM THE TEMPLE
EL GRECO
SEÑOR DE BERUETE, MADRID]
[Illustration: PLATE 511
PORTRAIT OF A STUDENT (EL GRECO?)
EL GRECO
DON PABLO BOSCH, MADRID]
* * * * *
THE
SPANISH SERIES
Edited by ALBERT F. CALVERT
A new and important series of volumes, dealing with Spain in its various
aspects, its history, its cities and monuments. Each volume will be
complete in itself in a uniform binding, and the number and excellence
of the reproductions from pictures will justify the claim that these
books comprise the most copiously illustrated series that has yet been
issued, some volumes having over 300 pages of reproductions of pictures,
etc.
Crown 8vo Price 3/6 net
1 GOYA with 600 illustrations
2 TOLEDO “ 510 “
3 MADRID “ 450 “
4 SEVILLE “ 300 “
5 MURILLO “ 165 “
6 CORDOVA “ 160 “
7 EL GRECO “ 140 “
8 VELAZQUEZ “ 142 “
9 THE PRADO “ 223 “
10 THE ESCORIAL “ 278 “
11 ROYAL PALACES OF SPAIN “ 200 “
12 GRANADA AND ALHAMBRA “ 460 “
13 SPANISH ARMS AND ARMOUR “ 386 “
14 LEON, BURGOS AND SALAMANCA “ 462 “
15 VALLADOLID, OVIEDO, SEGOVIA }
ZAMORA, AVILA AND ZARAGOZA } “ 390 “
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
MURILLO
A BIOGRAPHY AND APPRECIATION. ILLUSTRATED BY OVER 165 REPRODUCTIONS FROM
PHOTOGRAPHS OF HIS MOST CELEBRATED PICTURES
While the names of Murillo and Velazquez are inseparably linked in the
history of Art as Spain’s immortal contribution to the small band of
world-painters, the great Court-Painter to Philip IV. has ever received
the lion’s share of public attention. Many learned and critical works
have been written about Murillo, but whereas Velazquez has been
familiarised to the general reader by the aid of small, popular
biographies, the niche is still empty which it is hoped that this book
will fill.
In this volume the attempt has been made to show the painter’s art in
its relation to the religious feeling of the age in which he lived, and
his own feeling towards his art. Murillo was the product of his
religious era, and of his native province, Andalusia. To Europe in his
lifetime he signified little or nothing. He painted to the order of the
religious houses in his immediate vicinity; his works were immured in
local monasteries and cathedrals, and, passing immediately out of
circulation, were forgotten or never known.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
SPANISH ARMS AND ARMOUR
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE ROYAL ARMOURY AT MADRID.
ILLUSTRATED WITH 386 REPRODUCTIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS. DEDICATED BY
SPECIAL PERMISSION TO H.M. QUEEN MARIA CRISTINA OF SPAIN
Although several valuable and voluminous catalogues of the Spanish Royal
Armoury have, from time to time, been compiled, this “finest collection
of armour in the world” has been subjected so often to the disturbing
influences of fire, removal, and re-arrangement, that no hand catalogue
of the Museum is available, and this book has been designed to serve
both as a historical souvenir of the institution and a record of its
treasures.
The various exhibits with which the writer illustrates his narrative are
reproduced to the number of nearly 400 on art paper, and the selection
of weapons and armour has been made with a view not only to render the
series interesting to the general reader, but to present a useful text
book for the guidance of artists, sculptors, antiquaries, costumiers,
and all who are engaged in the reproduction or representation of
European armoury.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
THE ESCORIAL
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE SPANISH ROYAL PALACE,
MONASTERY AND MAUSOLEUM. ILLUSTRATED WITH PLANS AND 278 REPRODUCTIONS
FROM PICTURES AND PHOTOGRAPHS
The Royal Palace, Monastery, and Mausoleum of El Escorial, which rears
its gaunt, grey walls in one of the bleakest but most imposing districts
in the whole of Spain, was erected to commemorate a victory over the
French in 1557. It was occupied and pillaged by the French two and
a-half centuries later, and twice it has been greatly diminished by
fire; but it remains to-day, not only the incarnate expression of the
fanatic religious character and political genius of Philip II., but the
greatest mass of wrought granite which exists on earth, the leviathan of
architecture, the eighth wonder of the world.
In the text of this book the author has endeavoured to reconstitute the
glories and tragedies of the living past of the Escorial, and to
represent the wonders of the stupendous edifice by reproductions of over
two hundred and seventy of the finest photographs and pictures
obtainable. Both as a review and a pictorial record it is hoped that the
work will make a wide appeal among all who are interested in the
history, the architecture, and the art of Spain.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
TOLEDO
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE “CITY OF GENERATIONS,” WITH
510 ILLUSTRATIONS
The origin of Imperial Toledo, “the crown of Spain, the light of the
world, free from the time of the mighty Goths,” is lost in the
impenetrable mists of antiquity. Mighty, unchangeable, invincible, the
city has been described by Wörmann as “a gigantic open-air museum of the
architectural history of early Spain, arranged upon a lofty and
conspicuous table of rock.”
But while some writers have declared that Toledo is a theatre with the
actors gone and only the scenery left, the author does not share the
opinion. He believes that the power and virility upon which Spain built
up her greatness is reasserting itself. The machinery of the theatre of
Toledo is rusty, the pulleys are jammed from long disuse, but the
curtain is rising steadily if slowly, and already can be heard the
tuning-up of fiddles in its ancient orchestra.
In this belief the author of this volume has not only set forth the
story of Toledo’s former greatness, but has endeavoured to place before
his readers a panorama of the city as it appears to-day, and to show
cause for his faith in the greatness of the Toledo of the future.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
SEVILLE
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT, WITH 300 ILLUSTRATIONS
Seville, which has its place in mythology as the creation of Hercules,
and was more probably founded by the Phœnicians, which became
magnificent under the Roman rule, was made the capital of the Goths,
became the centre of Moslem power and splendour, and fell before the
military prowess of St. Ferdinand, is still the Queen of Andalusia, the
foster-mother of Velazquez and Murillo, the city of poets and pageantry
and love.
Seville is always gay, and responsive and fascinating to the receptive
visitor, and all sorts of people go there with all sorts of motives. The
artist repairs to the Andalusian city to fill his portfolio; the lover
of art makes the pilgrimage to study Murillo in all his glory. The
seasons of the Church attract thousands from reasons of devotion or
curiosity. And of all these myriad visitors, who go with their minds
full of preconceived notions, not one has yet confessed to being
disappointed in Seville.
The author has here attempted to convey in the illustrations an
impression of this laughing city where all is gaiety and mirth and
ever-blossoming roses, where the people pursue pleasure as the serious
business of life in an atmosphere of exhilarating enjoyment.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
THE PRADO
A GUIDE AND HANDBOOK TO THE ROYAL PICTURE GALLERY OF MADRID. ILLUSTRATED
WITH 221 REPRODUCTIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS OF OLD MASTERS. DEDICATED BY
SPECIAL PERMISSION TO H.R.H. PRINCESS HENRY OF BATTENBERG
This volume is an attempt to supplement the accurate but formal notes
contained in the official catalogue of a picture gallery which is
considered the finest in the world. It has been said that the day one
enters the Prado for the first time is an important event like marriage,
the birth of a child, or the coming into an inheritance; an experience
of which one feels the effects to the day of one’s death.
The excellence of the Madrid gallery is the excellence of exclusion; it
is a collection of magnificent gems. Here one becomes conscious of a
fresh power in Murillo, and is amazed anew by the astonishing apparition
of Velazquez; here is, in truth, a rivalry of miracles of art.
The task of selecting pictures for reproduction from what is perhaps the
most splendid gallery of old masters in existence, was one of no little
difficulty, but it is believed that the collection is representative,
and that the letterpress will form a serviceable companion to the
visitor to The Prado.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
GRANADA AND THE ALHAMBRA
A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE MOSLEM RULE IN SPAIN, TOGETHER WITH A PARTICULAR
ACCOUNT OF THE CONSTRUCTION, THE ARCHITECTURE, AND THE DECORATION OF THE
MOORISH PALACE, WITH 460 ILLUSTRATIONS. DEDICATED BY SPECIAL PERMISSION
TO H.I.M. THE EMPRESS EUGÉNIE
This volume is the third and abridged edition of a work which the author
was inspired to undertake by the surpassing loveliness of the Alhambra,
and by his disappointment in the discovery that no such thing as an even
moderately adequate illustrated souvenir of “this glorious sanctuary of
Spain” was obtainable. Keenly conscious of the want himself, he essayed
to supply it, and the result is a volume that has been acclaimed with
enthusiasm alike by critics, artists, architects, and archæologists.
In his preface to the first edition, Mr. Calvert wrote: “The Alhambra
may be likened to an exquisite opera which can only be appreciated to
the full when one is under the spell of its magic influence. But as the
witchery of an inspired score can be recalled by the sound of an air
whistled in the street, so--it is my hope--the pale ghost of the Moorish
fairy-land may live again in the memories of travellers through the
medium of this pictorial epitome.”
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
EL GRECO
A BIOGRAPHY AND APPRECIATION. ILLUSTRATED BY REPRODUCTIONS OF OVER 140
OF HIS PICTURES
In a Series such as this, which aims at presenting every aspect of
Spain’s eminence in art and in her artists, the work of Domenico
Theotocópuli must be allotted a volume to itself. “El Greco,” as he is
called, who reflects the impulse, and has been said to constitute the
supreme glory of the Venetian era, was a Greek by repute, a Venetian by
training, and a Toledan by adoption. His pictures in the Prado are still
catalogued among those of the Italian School, but foreigner as he was,
in his heart he was more Spanish than the Spaniards.
El Greco is typically, passionately, extravagantly Spanish, and with his
advent, Spanish painting laid aside every trace of Provincialism, and
stepped forth to compel the interest of the world. Neglected for many
centuries, and still often misjudged, his place in art is an assured
one. It is impossible to present him as a colourist in a work of this
nature, but the author has got together reproductions of no fewer than
140 of his pictures--a greater number than has ever before been
published of El Greco’s works.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
VELAZQUEZ
A BIOGRAPHY AND APPRECIATION. ILLUSTRATED WITH 142 REPRODUCTIONS FROM
PHOTOGRAPHS OF HIS MOST CELEBRATED PICTURES
Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velazquez--“our Velazquez,” as Palomino
proudly styles him--has been made the subject of innumerable books in
every European language, yet the Editor of this Spanish Series feels
that it would not be complete without the inclusion of yet another
contribution to the broad gallery of Velazquez literature.
The great Velazquez, the eagle in art--subtle, simple, incomparable--the
supreme painter, is still a guiding influence of the art of to-day. This
greatest of Spanish artists, a master not only in portrait painting, but
in character and animal studies, in landscapes and historical subjects,
impressed the grandeur of his superb personality upon all his work.
Spain, it has been said, the country whose art was largely borrowed,
produced Velazquez, and through him Spanish art became the light of a
new artistic life.
The author cannot boast that he has new data to offer, but he has put
forward his conclusions with modesty; he has reproduced a great deal
that is most representative of the artist’s work; and he has endeavoured
to keep always in view his object to present a concise, accurate, and
readable life of Velazquez.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
ROYAL PALACES OF SPAIN
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE SEVEN PRINCIPAL PALACES OF
THE SPANISH KINGS. PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED
Spain is beyond question the richest country in the world in the number
of its Royal Residences, and while few are without artistic importance,
all are rich in historical memories. Thus, from the Alcazar at Seville,
which is principally associated with Pedro the Cruel, to the Retiro,
built to divert the attention of Philip IV. from his country’s decay;
from the Escorial, in which the gloomy mind of Philip II. is perpetuated
in stone, to La Granja, which speaks of the anguish and humiliation of
Christina before Sergeant Garcia and his rude soldiery; from Aranjuéz to
Rio Frio, and from El Pardo, darkened by the agony of a good king, to
Miramar, to which a widowed Queen retired to mourn: all the history of
Spain, from the splendid days of Charles V. to the present time, is
crystallised in the Palaces that constitute the patrimony of the Crown.
The Royal Palaces of Spain are open to visitors at stated times, and it
is hoped that this volume, with its wealth of illustrations, will serve
the visitor both as a guide and a souvenir.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
VALLADOLID, OVIEDO, SEGOVIA, ZAMORA, AVILA AND ZARAGOZA
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT, WITH 390 ILLUSTRATIONS
The glory of Valladolid has departed, but the skeleton remains, and
attached to its ancient stones are the memories that Philip II. was born
here, that here Cervantes lived, and Christopher Columbus died. In this
one-time capital of Spain, in the Plaza Mayor, the fires of the Great
Inquisition were first lighted, and here Charles V. laid the foundation
of the Royal Armoury, which was afterwards transferred to Madrid.
More than seven hundred years have passed since Oviedo was the proud
capital of the Kingdoms of Las Asturias, Leon, and Castile. Segovia,
though no longer great, has still all the appurtenances of greatness,
and with her granite massiveness and austerity, she remains an
aristocrat even among the aristocracy of Spanish cities. Zamora, which
has a history dating from time almost without date, was the key of Leon
and the centre of the endless wars between the Moors and the Christians,
which raged round it from the eighth to the eleventh centuries.
In this volume the author has striven to re-create the ancient greatness
of these six cities, and has preserved their memories in a wealth of
excellent and interesting illustrations.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
LEON, BURGOS AND SALAMANCA
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT, WITH 462 ILLUSTRATIONS
In Leon, once the capital of the second kingdom in Spain; in Burgos,
which boasts one of the most magnificent cathedrals in Spain, and the
custodianship of the bones of the Cid; and in Salamanca, with its
university, which is one of the oldest in Europe, the author has
selected three of the most interesting relics of ancient grandeur in
this country of departed greatness.
Leon to-day is nothing but a large agricultural village, torpid, silent,
dilapidated; Burgos, which still retains traces of the Gotho-Castilian
character, is a gloomy and depleting capital: and Salamanca is a city of
magnificent buildings, a broken hulk, spent by the storms that from time
to time have devastated her.
Yet apart from the historical interest possessed by these cities, they
still make an irresistible appeal to the artist and the antiquary. They
are content with their stories of old-time greatness and their
cathedrals, and these ancient architectural splendours, undisturbed by
the touch of a modernising and renovating spirit, continue to attract
the visitor.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
MADRID
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE SPANISH CAPITAL, WITH 450
ILLUSTRATIONS
Madrid is at once one of the most interesting and most maligned cities
in Europe. It stands at an elevation of 2,500 feet above the sea level,
in the centre of an arid, treeless, waterless, and wind-blown plain; but
whatever may be thought of the wisdom of selecting a capital in such a
situation, one cannot but admire the uniqueness of its position, and the
magnificence of its buildings, and one is forced to admit that, having
fairly entered the path of progress, Madrid bids fair to become one of
the handsomest and most prosperous of European cities.
The splendid promenades, the handsome buildings, and the spacious
theatres combine to make Madrid one of the first cities of the world,
and the author has endeavoured with the aid of the camera, to place
every feature and aspect of the Spanish metropolis before the reader.
Some of the illustrations reproduced here have been made familiar to the
English public by reason of the interesting and stirring events
connected with the Spanish Royal Marriage, but the greater number were
either taken by the author, or are the work of photographers specially
employed to obtain new views for the purpose of this volume.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
GOYA
A BIOGRAPHY AND APPRECIATION. ILLUSTRATED BY REPRODUCTIONS OF 600 OF HIS
PICTURES
The last of the old masters and the first of the moderns, as he has been
called, Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes is not so familiarised to
English readers as his genius deserves. He was born at a time when the
tradition of Velazquez was fading, and the condition of Spanish painting
was debased almost beyond hope of salvation; he broke through the
academic tradition of imitation; “he, next to Velazquez, is to be
accounted as the man whom the Impressionists of our time have to thank
for their most definite stimulus, their most immediate inspiration.”
The genius of Goya was a robust, imperious, and fulminating genius; his
iron temperament was passionate, dramatic, and revolutionary; he painted
a picture as he would have fought a battle. He was an athletic, warlike,
and indefatigable painter; a naturalist like Velazquez; fantastic like
Hogarth; eccentric like Rembrandt; the last flame-coloured flash of
Spanish genius.
It is impossible to reproduce his colouring; but in the reproductions of
his works the author has endeavoured to convey to the reader some idea
of Goya’s boldness of style, his mastery of frightful shadows and
mysterious lights, and his genius for expressing all terrible emotions.
* * * * *
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
CORDOVA
A HISTORICAL AND DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE ANCIENT CITY WHICH THE
CARTHAGINIANS STYLED THE “GEM OF THE SOUTH,” WITH 160 ILLUSTRATIONS
Gay-looking, vivacious in its beauty, silent, ill-provided, depopulated,
Cordova was once the pearl of the West, the city of cities, Cordova of
the thirty suburbs and three thousand mosques; to-day she is no more
than an overgrown village, but she still remains the most Oriental town
in Spain.
Cordova, once the centre of European civilisation, under the Moors the
Athens of the West, the successful rival of Baghdad and Damascus, the
seat of learning and the repository of the arts, has shrunk to the
proportions of a third-rate provincial town; but the artist, the
antiquary and the lover of the beautiful, will still find in its streets
and squares and patios a mysterious spell that cannot be resisted.
* * * * *
BY ALBERT F. CALVERT
LIFE OF CERVANTES
A NEW LIFE OF THE GREAT SPANISH AUTHOR TO COMMEMORATE THE TERCENTENARY
OF THE PUBLICATION OF “DON QUIXOTE,” WITH NUMEROUS PORTRAITS AND
REPRODUCTIONS FROM EARLY EDITIONS OF “DON QUIXOTE”
Size Crown 8 vo. 150 pp. Price 3/6 net
PRESS NOTICES
“A popular and accessible account of the career of Cervantes.”--_Daily
Chronicle._
“A very readable and pleasant account of one of the great writers of all
time.”--_Morning Leader._
“Mr. CALVERT is entitled to the gratitude of book-lovers for
his industrious devotion at one of our greatest literary
shrines.”--_Birmingham Post._
“It is made trebly interesting by the very complete set of Cervantes’
portraits it contains, and by the inclusion of a valuable
bibliography.”--_Black and White._
“We recommend the book to all those to whom Cervantes is more than a
mere name.”--_Westminster Gazette._
“A most interesting résumé of all facts up to the present time
known.”--_El Nervion de Bilbao, Spain._
“The most notable work dedicated to the immortal author of _Don Quixote_
that has been published in England.”--_El Graduador, Spain._
“Although the book is written in English no Spaniard could have written
it with more conscientiousness and enthusiasm.”--_El Defensor de
Granada, Spain._
* * * * *
BY ALBERT F. CALVERT
THE ALHAMBRA
OF GRANADA, BEING A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE MOSLEM RULE IN SPAIN FROM THE
REIGN OF MOHAMMED THE FIRST TO THE FINAL EXPULSION OF THE MOORS,
TOGETHER WITH A PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF THE CONSTRUCTION, THE ARCHITECTURE
AND THE DECORATION OF THE MOORISH PALACE, WITH 80 COLOURED PLATES AND
NEARLY 300 BLACK AND WHITE ILLUSTRATIONS (NEW EDITION). DEDICATED BY
PERMISSION TO H.M. KING ALFONSO XIII.
Size 10 x 7½. Price £2 2s. net
PRESS NOTICES
“It is hardly too much to say that this is one of the most magnificent
books ever issued from the English Press.”--_Building World._
“One is really puzzled where to begin and when to stop in praising the
illustrations.”--_Bookseller._
“The most complete record of this wonder of architecture which has ever
been contemplated, much less attempted.”--_British Architect._
“A treasure to the student of decorative art.”--_Morning Advertiser._
“Mr. CALVERT has given us a Book Beautiful.”--_Western Daily Press._
“It is the last word on the subject, no praise is too
high.”--_Nottingham Express._
“May be counted among the more important art books which have been
published during recent years.”--_The Globe._
“Has a pride of place that is all its own among the books of the
month.”--_Review of Reviews._
“Has in many respects surpassed any books on the Alhambra which up to
the present have appeared in our own country or abroad.”--_El Graduador,
Spain._
“It is one of the most beautiful books of modern times.”--_Ely Gazette._
“One of the most artistic productions of the year.”--_Publishers’
Circular._
“The most beautiful book on the Alhambra issued in England.”--_Sphere._
“The standard work on a splendid subject.”--_Daily Telegraph._
“A remarkable masterpiece of book production.”--_Eastern Daily Press._
“A perfect treasure of beauty and delight.”--_Keighley News._
“A magnificent work.”--_Melbourne Age, Australia._
“Immense collection of fine plates.”--_The Times._
“A standard work, the compilation of which would credit a life’s
labour.”--_Hull Daily Mail._
* * * * *
BY ALBERT F. CALVERT
MOORISH REMAINS IN SPAIN
BEING A BRIEF RECORD OF THE ARABIAN CONQUEST AND OCCUPATION OF THE
PENINSULA, WITH A PARTICULAR ACCOUNT OF THE MOHAMMEDAN ARCHITECTURE AND
DECORATION IN THE CITIES OF CORDOVA, SEVILLE AND TOLEDO, WITH MANY
COLOURED PLATES, AND OVER 400 BLACK AND WHITE ILLUSTRATIONS, DIAGRAMS,
ETC., DEDICATED BY PERMISSION TO H.M. KING ALFONSO XIII.
Crown 4to. (7½ × 10 ins.) Price £2 2s. net
PRESS NOTICES
“The making of this book must surely have been a veritable labour of
love; and love’s labour has certainly not been lost.”--_Pall Mall
Gazette._
“The best age of Moorish architecture in Spain is shown with remarkable
vividness and vitality.”--_The Scotsman._
“A most gorgeous book.... We cheerfully admit Mr. CALVERT into the ranks
of those whom posterity will applaud for delightful yet unprofitable
work.”--_Outlook._
“A large and sumptuous volume.”--_Tribune._
“The illustrations are simply marvels of reproduction.”--_Dundee
Advertiser._
“One of the books to which a simple literary review cannot pretend to do
justice.”--_Spectator._
“A special feature of a work of peculiar interest and value are the
illustrations.”--_Newcastle Chronicle._
“The illustrations are given with a minuteness and faithfulness of
detail, and colour, which will be particularly appreciated and
acknowledged by those who are most acquainted with the subject
themselves.”--_Liverpool Post._
“It is impossible to praise too highly the care with which the
illustrations have been prepared.”--_Birmingham Daily Post._
“It is illustrated with so lavish a richness of colour that to turn its
pages gives one at first almost the same impression of splendour as one
receives in wandering from hall to hall of the Alcazar of Seville; and
this is probably the highest compliment we could pay to the book or its
author.”--_Academy._
“It is certainly one of the most interesting books of the
year.”--_Crown._
“The occasional delicacy of design and harmony of colour can scarcely be
surpassed ... a valuable and profusely illustrated volume.”--_Guardian._
“An excellent piece of work.”--_The Times._
“Mr. CALVERT has performed a useful work.”--_Daily Telegraph._
“A truly sumptuous volume.”--_The Speaker._
“Mr. CALVERT has given a very complete account of the evolution of
Moresco art.”--_The Connoisseur._
FOOTNOTES:
[A] This spelling of his name resembles most that used by himself.
[B] The exact contents are as follows:
“AL CARD. FARNESE--Viterbo.
“A’ di 16 di Nouembre, 1570.
“E’ capitato in Roma un giouane Candiotto discepolo di Titiano, che
á mio giuditio parmi raro nella pittura; e fra l’altre cose egli ha
fatto un ritratto da se stesso, che fa stupire tutti questi Pittori di
Roma. Io vorrei tratenerlo sotto l’ombra de V.S. Illma. et Revma. senza
spesa altra del vivere, ma solo de una stanza nell Palazzo Farnese per
qualche poco di tempo, cioé per fin che egli si venghi ad accomodare
meglio. Pero La prego et supplico sia contenta di scrivere al Conte
Lodovico suo Maiordomo, che lo provegghi nel detto Palazzo di qualche
stanza ad alto; che V.S. Illma. fará un’ opera virtuosa degna di Lei, e
io gliene terro obligo. Et le bascio con reverenza le mani.
“Di V.S. Illma. et Revma. humilissimo servitore.
“JULIO CLOVIO.”
[C] The record of his burial, discovered by Señor de Beruete in the
register of the parish church of Santo Tomé, is brief: “Libro de
entierros de Santo Tomé de 1601-1614, en siete del Abril del 1614
falescio Domeniko Greco. No hizo testamento, recibo los sacramentos, en
teroso en Santo Domingo el Antigua.”
[D] Two judges were appointed to settle the dispute, which arose from
the introduction of the three Marys into the picture. The Chapter
objected to their presence. El Greco’s defence was characteristic
enough--What did it matter? and, besides, the women were a long way
off. The judges disagreed; whereupon the dispute was settled by Alezo
de Montoyo as follows:
“Having seen the said painting which has been executed by the said
Domeniko, and the appraisements of the judge appointed by both parties,
and other persons who understand the said painting, its execution and
admirable finish; and the reasons which the said judges have given;
and seeing that the said painting is one of the best that I have seen;
and that, if it were to be estimated for all its valuable qualities,
it would be valued at a much higher sum, which but few would care to
pay for it; but, in view of the nature of the times and the price paid
generally for the paintings of great artists in Castile; and in view
of, and taking into consideration all the above and all other points
that were necessary, I find that I must order, and I do order, that for
the said painting the said Garcia de Loaysa, in the name of the said
Holy Church, shall give and pay to the said Domeniko Theotokopuli three
thousand and five hundred reals: and above this sum the said Domeniko
Theotokopuli cannot ask, nor must he ask, for anything more for the
said painting; and as regards the judges for the said workers, they
say that it is improper for the Marys to be introduced into the story;
as regards this I am sending the declaration of it to some theologians
versed in such matters, that they may decide upon it.”
[E] This is another rendering of the same picture; and still another is
in the collection of Señor de Beruete, Madrid.
[F] This picture passed into the collection of the Infanta Doña Isabel
Farnese, and is now in the Museo del Prado. The ‘Assumption’ in the
Church of Santo Domingo el Antigua is a poor copy of the original
picture.
[G] The picture was painted for the altar of St. Maurice, but it was
rejected by Philip II., and the commission given to a third-rate
Italian. To-day the picture hangs in the Sala Capitulare.
[H] This likeness is more striking even in another ‘Coronation of the
Virgin,’ by El Greco, in the collection of Colonel P. Bosch, Madrid.
[I] Some authorities name these saints Sta. Inez and Sta. Feda.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Toledo" ***
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