V Burgos
Burgos is the old capital of Castile.
Castile—or properly Castilla—owed its name to the great number of castles which stood on solitary hills in the midst of the plains lying to the north of the Sierra de Guaderrama; one of these castles was called Burgos.
Unlike Leon and Astorga, Burgos was not known to the Romans, but was founded by feudal noblemen in the middle ages, most likely by the Count of Castilla prior to 884 A. D., when its name first appears in history.
Situated almost in the same line and to the west of Astorga and Leon, it entered the chain of fortresses which formed the frontier between the Christian kingdoms and the Moorish dominion. At the same time it looked westwards toward the kingdom of Navarra, and managed to keep the ambitious sovereigns of Pamplona from Castilian soil.
During the first centuries which followed upon the foundation of the village of Burgos at the foot of a prominent castle, both belonged to the feudal lords of Castile, the celebrated counts of the same name. This family of intrepid noblemen grew to be the most important in Northern Spain; vassals of the kings of Asturias, they broke out in frequent rebellion, and their doings alone fill nine of every ten pages of mediæval history.
Orduño III.—he who lost the battle of Valdejunquera against the Moors because the noblemen he had ordered to assist refrained from doing so—enticed the Count of Castile, together with other conspirators, to his palace, and had them foully murdered. So, at least, saith history.
The successor to the title was no fool. On the contrary, he was one of the greatest characters in Spanish history, hero of a hundred legends and traditions. Fernan Gonzalez was his name, and he freed Castile from owing vassalage to Asturias, for he threw off the yoke which bound him to Leon, and lived as an independent sovereign in his castle of Burgos. This is the date of Castile’s first appearance in history as one of the nuclei of Christian resistance (in the tenth century).
Nevertheless, against the military genius of Almanzor (the victorious), Fernan Gonzalez could do no more than the kings of Leon. The fate that befell Santiago, Leon, and Astorga awaited Burgos, which was utterly destroyed with the exception of the impregnable castle. After the Arab’s death, hailed by the Christians with shouts of joy, and from the pulpits with the grim remark: “Almanzor mortuus est et sepultus et in inferno,” the strength of Castile grew year by year, until one Conde Garcia de Castilla married one of his daughters to the King of Navarra and the other to Bermudo III. of Leon. His son, as has already been seen in a previous chapter, was killed in Leon when he went to marry Bermudo’s sister Sancha. But his grandson, the recognized heir to the throne of Navarra, Fernando by name, inherited his grandfather’s title and estates, even his murdered uncle’s promised bride, the sister of Bermudo. At the latter’s death some years later, without an heir, he inherited—or conquered—Leon and Asturias, and for the first time in history, all the Christian kingdoms of the peninsula were united beneath one sceptre.
Castile was now the most powerful state in the peninsula, and its capital, Burgos, the most important city north of Toledo.
Two hundred years later the centralization of power in Burgos was an accomplished fact, as well as the death in all but name of the ancient kingdom of Leon, Asturias, and Galicia. Castile was Spain, and Burgos its splendid capital (1230, in the reign of San Fernando).
The above events are closely connected with the ecclesiastical history, which depends entirely upon the civil importance of the city.
A few years after Fernando I. had inaugurated the title of King of Castile, he raised the parish church of Burgos to a bishopric (1075) by removing to his new capital the see that from time immemorial had existed in Oca. He also laid the first stone of the cathedral church in the same spot where Fernan Gonzalez had erected a summer palace, previous to the Arab raid under Almanzor. Ten years later the same king had the bishopric raised to an archiepiscopal see.
San Fernando, being unable to do more than had already been done by his forefather Fernando I., had the ruined church pulled down, and in its place he erected the cathedral still standing to-day. This was in 1221.
So rapidly was the main edifice constructed, that as early as 1230 the first holy mass was celebrated in the altar-chapel. The erection of the remaining parts took longer, however, for the building was not completed until about three hundred years later.
Burgos did not remain the sole capital of Northern Spain for any great length of time. Before the close of the thirteenth century, Valladolid had destroyed the former’s monopoly, and from then on, and during the next three hundred years, these two and Toledo were obliged to take turns in the honour of being considered capital, an honour that depended entirely upon the caprices of the rulers of the land, until it was definitely conferred upon Madrid in the seventeenth century.
As regards legends and traditions of feudal romance and tragedy, hardly a city excepting Toledo and Salamanca can compete with Burgos. Historical events, produced by throne usurpers and defenders, by continual strife, by the obstinacy of the noblemen and the perfidy of the monarchs,—all interwoven with beautiful dames and cruel warriors—are sufficiently numerous to enable every house in and around Burgos to possess some secret or other, generally gruesome and licentious, which means chivalrous. The reign of Peter the Cruel and of his predecessor Alfonso, the father of four or five bastards, and the lover of Doña Leonor; the heroic deeds of Fernan Gonzalez and of the Cid Campeador (Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar); the splendour of the court of Isabel I., and the peculiar constitution of the land with its Cortes, its convents, and monasteries,—all tend to make Burgos the centre of a chivalrous literature still recited by the people and firmly believed in by them. Unluckily their recital cannot find a place here, and we pass on to examine the grand cathedral, object of the present chapter.
The train, coming from the north, approaches the city of Burgos. A low horizon line and undulating plains stretch as far as the eye can reach; in the distance ahead are two church spires and a castle looming up against a blue sky.
The train reaches the station; a mass of houses and, overtopping the roofs of all buildings, the same spires as seen before, lost as it were in a forest of pinnacles, emerging from two octagonal lanterns or cimborios. In the background, on a sandy hill, are the ruins of the castle which once upon a time was the stronghold of the Counts of Castile.
Burgos! Passing beneath a four-hundred-year-old gateway—Arco de Santa Maria—raised by trembling bourgeois to appease a monarch’s wrath, the visitor arrives after many a turn in a square situated in front of the cathedral.
A poor architectural element is this western front of the cathedral as regards the first body or the portals. Devoid of all ornamentation, and consequently naked, three doors or portals, surmounted by a peculiar egg-shaped ogival arch, open into the nave and aisles. Originally they were richly decorated by means of sculptural reliefs and statuary, but in the plateresque period of the sixteenth century they were demolished. The two lateral doors leading into the aisles are situated beneath the 275 feet high towers of excellent workmanship.
The central door is surmounted by a plateresque-Renaissance pediment imbedded in an ogival arch (of all things!); the side doors are crowned by a simple window.
Vastly superior in all respects to the lower body are the upper stories, of which the first is begun by a pinnacled balustrade running from tower to tower; in the centre, between the two towers, there is an immense rosace of a magnificent design and embellished by means of an ogival arch in delicate relief; the windows of the tower, as well as in the superior bodies, are pure ogival.
The next story can be considered as the basement of the towers, properly speaking. The central part begins with a prominent balustrade of statues thrown against a background formed by twin ogival windows of exceptional size. The third story is composed, as regards the towers, of the last of the square bodies upon which the flèche reposes; these square bases are united by a light frieze or perforated balustrade which crowns the central part of the façade and is decorated with ogival designs.
Last to be mentioned, but not least in importance, are the flèches. Though short in comparison to the bold structure at Oviedo, they are, nevertheless, of surprising dignity and elegance, and richly ornamented, being covered over with an innumerable amount of tiny pinnacles encrusted, as it were, on the stone network of a perforated pyramid.
The northern façade is richer in sculptural details than the western, though the portal possesses but one row of statues. The rosace is substituted by a three-lobed window, the central pane of which is larger than the lateral two.
As this northern façade is almost fifteen feet higher than the ground-plan of the temple,—on account of the street being much higher,—a flight of steps leads down into the transept. As a Renaissance work, this golden staircase is one of Spain’s marvels, but it looks rather out of place in an essentially Gothic cathedral.
To avoid the danger of falling down these stairs and with a view to their preservation, the transept was pierced by another door in the sixteenth century, on a level with the floor of the building, and leading into a street lower than the previous one; it is situated on the east of the prolonged transept, or better still, of the prolonged northern transept arm.
On the south side a cloister door corresponds to this last-named portal. Though the latter is plateresque, cold and severe, the former is the richest of all the portals as regards sculptural details; the carving of the panels is also of the finest workmanship. Beside it, the southern front of the cathedral coincides perfectly with the northern; like the Puerta de la Plateria in Santiago, it is rendered somewhat insignificant by the cloister to the right and by the archbishop’s palace to the left, between which it is reached by a paved series of terraces, for on this side the street is lower than the floor of the cathedral. The impression produced by this alley is grand and imposing, unique in Spain.
Neither is the situation of the temple exactly east and west, a rare circumstance in such a highly Catholic country like Spain. It is Roman cruciform in shape; the central nave contains both choir and high altar; the aisles are prolonged behind the latter in an ambulatory.
The lateral walls of the church, enlarged here and there to make room for chapels of different dimensions, give an irregular outline to the building which has been partly remedied by the free use of buttresses, flying buttresses, and pinnacles.
The first impression produced on the visitor standing in either of the aisles is that of size rather than beauty; a close examination, however, of the wealth of statues and tombs, and of the sculptural excellence of stone decoration, will draw from the tourist many an exclamation of wonder and delight. Further, the distribution of light is such as to render the interior of the temple gay rather than sombre; it is a pity, nevertheless, that the stained glasses of the sixteenth century see were all destroyed by a powder explosion in 1813, when the French soldiers demolished the castle.
The unusual height of the choir mars the ensemble of the interior; the stalls are lavishly carved, but do not inspire the same feeling of wonderful beauty as do those of Leon and Toledo, for instance; the reja or grille which separates the choir from the transept is one of the finest pieces of work in the cathedral, and, though massive, it is simple and elegant.
The retablo of the high altar, richly gilt, is of the Renaissance period; the statues and groups which fill the niches are marvellously drawn and full of life. In the ambulatory, imbedded in the wall of the trascoro, there are six plaques in low relief; as sculptural work in stone they are unrivalled in the cathedral, and were carved, beyond a doubt, by the hand of a master. The croisée and the Chapel of the Condestable are the two chief attractions of the cathedral church.
The last named chapel is an octagonal addition to the apse. Its walls from the exterior are seen to be richly sculptured and surmounted by a lantern, or windowed dome, surrounded by high pinnacles and spires placed on the angles of the polygon base. The croisée is similar in structure, but, due to its greater height, appears even more slender and aerial. The towers with their flèches, together with these original octagonal lanterns with their pinnacles, lend an undescribable grace, elegance, and majesty to what would otherwise have been a rather unwieldy edifice.
The Chapel of the Condestable is separated from the ambulatory (in the interior of the temple) by a good grille of the sixteenth century, and by a profusely sculptured door. The windows above the altar are the only ones that retain painted panes of the sixteenth century. Among the other objects contained in this chapel—which is really a connoisseur’s collection of art objects of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries—can be mentioned the two marvellously carved tombs of the Condestable and of his wife.
The croisée, on the other hand, has been called the “cathedral’s cathedral.” Gazing skyward from the centre of the transept into the high cimborio, and admiring the harmony of its details, the wealth of decorative elements, and the no less original structure of the dome, whose vault is formed by an immense star, one can understand the epithet applied to this majestic piece of work, a marvel of its kind.
Strange to say, the primitive cupola which crowned the croisée fell down in the sixteenth century, the date also of Burgos’s growing insignificance in political questions. Consequently, it was believed by many that the same fate produced both accidents, and that the downfall of the one necessarily involved the decadence of the other.
To conclude: The Gothic cathedral of Burgos is, with that of Leon and perhaps that of Sevilla, the one which expresses in a greater measure than any other on the peninsula the true ideal of ogival architecture. Less airy, light, and graceful than that of Leon, it is, nevertheless, more Spanish, or in other words, more majestic, heavier, and more imposing as regards size and weight. From a sculptural point of view—stone sculpture—it is the first of all Spanish Gothic cathedrals, and ranks among the most elaborate and perfect in Europe.