Part 1 (1/2)
Some Account of Gothic Architecture in Spain.
by George Edmund Street.
PREFACE.
The book which I here commit to the reader requires, I fear, some apology on my part. I feel that I have undertaken almost more than an artist like myself, always at work, has any right to suppose he can properly accomplish in the little spare time he can command.
Nevertheless, I have always felt that part of the duty which every artist owes to his mother art is to study her developments wherever they are to be seen, and whenever he can find the opportunity. Moreover, I believe that in this age it is only by the largest kind of study and range of observation that any artist can hope to perfect himself in so complex and difficult an art as architecture, and that it is only by studying the development of Gothic architecture in all countries that we can form a true and just estimate of the marvellous force of the artistic impulse which wrought such wonders all over Europe in the twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries.
In a day of revival, such as this, I believe it to be necessary that we should form this just estimate of bygone art; because I am sure that, unless our artists learn their art by studying patiently, lovingly, and constantly the works of their great predecessors, they will never themselves be great. I know full well how much hostility there is on the part of some to any study of foreign examples; but as from my boyhood up I have never lost any opportunity of visiting and studying our old English buildings, and as my love for our own national artistic peculiarities rather increases than diminishes the more I study the contemporary buildings of the Continent, I have no hesitation in giving to the world what I have been able to learn about Spanish art.
What I have here written will no doubt be supplemented and corrected by others hereafter; and much additional light will, I hope, be thrown upon the history of Spanish buildings and their architects. It will be found that I have referred to many Spanish authorities for the historical facts on which the dates of the buildings I have visited can alone be decided. Of these authorities none is more useful to the architect, none is more creditable to its authors, than the 'Notices of the Architects and Architecture of Spain, by D. Eugenio Llaguno y Amirola, edited with additions by D. Juan Agustin Cean-Bermudez,' in four volumes, compiled about the beginning of this century, but not published until A.D.
1829.[1]
This work, full of doc.u.mentary evidence as to the Spanish architects and their works, appears to me to be far better in its scheme and mode of execution than any work which we in England have upon the buildings of our own country; and, though it is true that neither of its authors had a very accurate knowledge of the art, they seem to have exercised great diligence in their search after information bearing on their subject, and to have been remarkably successful.
Mr. Ford's 'Handbook of Spain' has been of great service to me, not only because it was the only guide to be had, and on account of the charm of his style, but because it had the rare excellence (in a Guide-book) of constantly referring to local guides and authorities, and so enabling me to turn at once to the books most likely to aid me in my work.
The other works to which I have at some pains referred are mainly local guides and histories, collections of doc.u.ments, and the like. Of these a vast number have been published, and I cannot pretend to have exhausted the stores which they contain.
Unfortunately, so far as I have been able to learn, no one of late years has taken up the subject of the Mediaeval antiquities of Spain in the way in which we are accustomed to see them treated by writers on the subject elsewhere in Europe. The 'Ensayo Historico' of D. Jose Caveda is very slight and unsatisfactory, and not to be depended on. Pa.s.savant, who has published some notes on Spanish architecture,[2] is so ludicrously wrong in most of his statements that it seems probable that he trusted to his internal consciousness instead of to personal inspection for his facts. The work of Don G. P. de Villa Amil[3] is very showy and very untrustworthy; and that of Don F. J. Parcerisa,[4] and the great work which the Spanish Government is publis.h.i.+ng,[5] are both so large and elaborate as to be useless for the purpose of giving such a general and comprehensive idea of the features of Gothic architecture in Spain as it has been my effort to give in this work.
Seeing, then, how complete is the ignorance which up to the present time we have laboured under, as to the true history and nature of Gothic architecture in Spain, I commit this volume to the reader with a fair trust that what has been the occupation of all my leisure moments for the last two or three years,--a work not only of much labour at home, but of considerable labour also in long journeys taken year after year for this object alone,--will not be found an unwelcome addition to the literature of Christian art. I have attempted to throw what I had to say into the form which has always appeared to me to be the right form for any such architectural treatise. The interest of the subject is threefold--first, Artistic and Archaeological; secondly, Historical; and lastly, Personal. I have first of all, therefore, arranged the notes of my several journeys in the form of one continuous tour; and then, in the concluding chapters, I have attempted a general _resume_ of the history of architecture in Spain, and, finally, a short history of the men who as architects and builders have given me the materials for my work.
To this I have added, in an Appendix, two catalogues--one of dated examples of buildings, and the other of their architects, with short notices of their works; and, beside these, a few translations of doc.u.ments which seem to me to bring before us in a very real way the mode in which these mediaeval buildings were undertaken, carried on, and completed.
CHAPTER I.
IRUN--SAN SEBASTIAN--BURGOS.
So little has it been the fas.h.i.+on hitherto to explore the North of Spain in search of artistic treasures, that it was with somewhat more than usual of the feeling that I was engaged in an adventure that I left Bayonne on my first journey West of the Pyrenees. Yet, in truth, so far as I have seen there is little in the way of adventure to antic.i.p.ate even there in these matter-of-fact days; and, some slight personal inconvenience excepted, there is nothing to prevent any traveller of ordinary energy doing all that I did with complete success, and an uncommon amount of pleasure. For if there are no serious perils to be encountered, there is great novelty in almost everything that one sees; and whether we wish to study the people and their customs, or to visit the country and explore it in search of striking and picturesque scenery, or to examine, as I did, its treasures of ancient art, we shall find in every one of these respects so much that is unlike what we are used to, so much that is beautiful, and so much that is ancient and venerable by historic a.s.sociation, that we must be dull indeed if we do not enjoy our journey with the fullest measure of enjoyment. Indeed the drawbacks about which so much is usually said and written--the difficulty of finding inns fit to sleep in, or food fit to eat--seem to me to be most enormously exaggerated. It is true that I have purposely avoided travelling over the well-beaten Andalusian corner of Spain; and it is there, I suppose, that most English ideas of Spain and the Spaniards are formed. But in those parts to which my travels have taken me, but in which English travellers are not known so well as they are in Andalusia, I have certainly seldom found any difficulty in obtaining such creature-comforts as are essential. Somewhat, it is true, depends upon the time of year in which a journey is undertaken; for in the spring, when the climate is most enjoyable, and the country gloriously green and bright with wavy crops of corn, the traveller has to depend entirely upon the cook for his food; and has no other resource even where the cookery is intolerable to his English sense of smell, taste, and sight! But in the autumn, if he chances to travel, as I have twice done, just when the grapes are ripening, he may, if he choose, live almost entirely, and with no little advantage to his health, on grapes and bread, the latter being always pure, light, and good to a degree of which our English bakers have no conception; and the former tasting as none but Spanish grapes do, and often costing nothing, or at any rate never more than a merely nominal sum.
On the whole, from my own experience, I should be inclined to recommend the autumn as the most favourable season for a Spanish journey, the weather being then generally more settled than in the spring. But, on the other hand, there is no doubt that any one who wishes to judge fairly of the scenery of Old and New Castile, of great part of Aragon, and of Leon, ought on no account to visit these provinces save in the spring. Then I know no sight more glorious in its way than the sea of corn which is seen covering with its luxuriance and lovely colour the endless sweeps of the great landscape on all sides; whereas in the autumn the same landscape looks parched and barren, burnt up as it is by the furious sun until it a.s.sumes everywhere a dusty hue, painful to the eye, and most monotonous and depressing to the mind; whilst the roads suffer sometimes from an acc.u.mulation of dust such as can scarcely be imagined by those who have never travelled along them. Even at this season, however, there are some recompenses, and one of them is the power of realizing somewhat of the beauty of an Eastern atmosphere, and the singular contrasts of colours which Eastern landscapes and skies generally present; for nowhere else have I ever seen sunsets more beautiful or more extraordinary than in the dreariest part of dreary Castile.
So far as the inns and food are to be considered, I do not think there is much need ordinarily for violent grumbling. All ideas of English manners and customs must be carefully left behind; and if the travelling-clothes are donned with a full intention to do in Spain as Spain does, there is small fear of their owner suffering very much. But in Spain more than in most parts of Europe the foreign traveller is a rare bird, and if he attempt to import his own customs, he will unquestionably suffer for his pains, and give a good deal of unnecessary--because fruitless--trouble into the bargain.
Spanish inns are of various degrees, from the _Posada_, which is usually a muleteer's public-house, and the _Parador_, which is higher in rank, and where the diligence is generally to be found, up to the _Fonda_, which answers in idea to our hotel. In small country towns and villages a posada is the only kind of inn to be found; and sometimes indeed large towns and cities have nothing better for the traveller's accommodation; but in the larger towns, and where there is much traffic, the Parador or Fonda will often be found to be as good as second-rate inns elsewhere usually are.
In a Posada it is generally easy to secure a bed-room which boasts at any rate of clean, wholesome linen, though of but little furniture; and in the remoter parts of the country--as in Leon and Galicia--there is no difficulty in securing in the poorest Posada plenty of bird or fish of quality good enough for a gourmand. The great objection to these small inns is, that nothing but the linen for the beds and the face of the waiting-maid ever seems to be washed. The water is carried to and fro in jars of the most curious and pleasant form and texture, and a few drops are now and then thrown on the floor of the comedor or eating-room by way of laying the ancient dust; but was.h.i.+ng in any higher sense than this is unknown. It must be said also, that the entrance is common to the mules and the guests; and that after pa.s.sing through an archway where the atmosphere is only too lively with fleas, and where the stench is something too dreadful to be borne with ease, you turn into the staircase door, and up the stairs, only to find when you have mounted that you have to live, sleep, and eat above the mules; and (unless you are very lucky), when you open your window, to smell as badly as ever all the sweets of their uncleaned and, I suppose, uncleanable stables!
The kitchen is almost always on the first floor; and here one may stand by the wood fire and see the dinner cooked in a mysterious fas.h.i.+on in a number of little earthen jars planted here and there among the embers; whilst one admires the small but precious array of quaint crockery on the shelves, and tries to induce the cooking-maid to add somewhat less of the usual flavouring to one at any rate of her stews! I confess, in spite of all this, to a grateful recollection of many a Posada, to a hearty appreciation of an _olla podrida_--a dish abused most by those who know least about its virtues--and to some suspicion that many of the humblest have treasures in their unsophisticated cooks for which one longs in vain in our own English country-town inns, which of all I have seen seem to me to be the worst, in their affectation of superiority, and in their utter inability to support their claim with anything more worthy than bad mutton-chops, doubtful beer, and wine about which there is no kind of doubt whatever! So much for the Posada. In the Parador or the Fonda the entertainment is generally very fair, whilst in many the sleeping-rooms are all that need be desired. But even here the smell of the stables is often so intolerable as to make it very desirable to find other quarters; and about this there is seldom if ever any difficulty; for in almost all towns of moderate size there are plenty of houses where lodgers are taken in for a night; and in these one may generally depend upon cleanliness, the absence of mules, and fairly-good cookery.
In all--whether inns or lodgings--it is well to eat when the Spaniard eats, and not to attempt to do so at any other time, else much precious time and temper will a.s.suredly be lost, and with results entirely incommensurate with the sacrifice. At whatever hour you rise the maid will bring a small cup of chocolate and a vast gla.s.s of water, with some sweet biscuits or toast. And you must learn to love this precious cup, if you intend to love Spain: nowhere else will you get chocolate so invariably well made; and if after you have taken it you drink heartily of the water, you have nothing to fear, and may work hard without fainting till you get your morning meal, at about eleven o'clock. This is a dinner, and can be followed by another at sunset, after which you can generally find in a cafe either coffee, chocolate, or iced lemonade, whilst you watch the relaxation of the domino-playing natives.
Finally, there is seldom anything to quarrel with in the bill, which is usually made out for the entertainment at so much a day; and when this has been paid, the people of the house are sure to bid you G.o.d speed--_a dios_--with pleasant faces and kind hearts.
The journeys which I have undertaken in Spain have all been made with the one object of inspecting the remains of Gothic building which I either hoped to, or knew I should, find there. My knowledge of Spanish scenery has therefore been very much limited, and it is only incidentally that I am able to speak at all of it. Yet I have seen enough to be able to recommend a great extent of country as thoroughly worthy of exploration by those who care for nought but picturesque scenery. The greater part of Catalonia, much of Aragon, Navarre, the north of Leon, Galicia, and the Asturias, are all full of lovely scenery, and even in other districts, where the country is not interesting, there seem always to be ranges of mountains in sight, which, with the singular purity of the atmosphere through which they are seen, never fail of leaving pleasant recollections in one's mind. Such, for example, is the view of the Guadarrama Mountains from Madrid--a view which redeems that otherwise forlorn situation for a great city, and gives it the only charm it has. Such again are the mountain backgrounds of Leon, Avila, and Segovia.