IV ZAMORA

Zamora on the Duero is one of the most picturesque towns in Spain, and one of the most celebrated in its annals. It is not well known to foreigners, probably on account of it being so difficult of approach. Few places bring back so vividly the stirring past of Castile.

The town stands above the Duero on a rocky ridge, the castle and cathedral occupying the western extremity. The river is spanned by a bridge of seventeen arches, defended near either end by a high gate-tower. If the approach is quaint and mediæval, the view from this point is even more so. Towards sundown, the spirit of the Middle Ages seems to inform the town—all is sombre, fierce, strong, and venerable. The country round seems little better than a desert. From the walls above eyes seem to be scanning the horizon for the first gleam of hostile lances. Zamora belongs to the days when towns, like men, always wore armour. To-day she is broken and war-worn and old; but if her sword is rusted and her shield broken, she may well boast it was in the service of Spain.

As we jolt over the old bridge, above the weirs of the Duero, and climb the steep street that leads into the town, we need no consultation of the records to tell us that we are here in the old Castile of the knightly days, that we shall find few memories of artists and poets, few of statesmen and great rulers, but many of hard fighters and holy priests. Zamora is constantly mentioned in the Romancero. We can imagine that it was a town towards which Don Quixote would have been drawn, but he only spoke of it as famous for bagpipes. Like Burgos and Valladolid and Salamanca, it was the creation of the mediæval time, and we hear first of it in the ninth century. Alfonso I., or his son Froila, took the town from the Moors. Thereafter, for many years, it continued to change hands. The Day of Zamora, famous in Spanish song and story (July 9, 901), when nearly seventy thousand Moors were slain or captured, assured the possession of the town to the Christians. In this terrific engagement Bernardo del Carpio is supposed to have won his spurs, though (if he ever existed, or the battle really took place) he must have been a hundred years old at the time! Soon after this victory the citizens clamoured for a spiritual shepherd, and a hermit named Atilanus was given them as bishop. Certain episodes of his youth began to trouble the prelate’s mind, and at the end of ten years he laid aside the pastoral staff, and declared himself unworthy of his office. He went on a pilgrimage, having thrown his episcopal ring into the Duero, proclaiming that he would not return till it was restored to him as a sign that God had pardoned him. All in the least familiar with folklore will, of course, know what happened next. Like the ring of Polycrates, like the ring in the arms of Glasgow, the bishop’s amulet was found in the body of a fish served up to him at supper. The relief of the good man at this unmistakable evidence of the Divine forgiveness, his return to his See, and the rejoicings of the inhabitants may be inferred and imagined. Atilanus was canonised by Urban II. in the eleventh century.

Of another tremendous victory said to have been won before the walls of Zamora in 939 over the pertinacious Moors we need not speak further, for it is more than probable that the fight never occurred here at all, but at Simancas. There can, however, be no doubt that the place fell before the irresistible Al Mansûr in 981, in spite of the brave resistance of the commandant, Domingo Sarracino. The Moors repeopled the town, which was governed by one Abu-l-Was el Tojibita. It was labour wasted so far as they were concerned, for Zamora was soon, and finally, recovered by the Spaniards. And now we come to the episode which has secured the town so prominent a place in the annals and legendary lore of the country.

Fernando I., King of Leon and Castile, in response to the importunities of his children, on his deathbed divided his dominions between them. To his eldest daughter, Urraca, he gave Zamora, to her sister, Toro. The disposition of his estates made, the dying king invoked the vengeance of Heaven on whomsoever should disturb it; and all present, except his eldest son Sancho, responded, Amen. It was not long before this prince (now King of Leon and Castile) showed his dissatisfaction with what Ford, with a touching faith in the sanctity of primogeniture, calls this unjust division. Toro was soon surrendered by Doña Elvira, and, very shortly after, the stout-hearted Urraca beheld from these walls the hosts of Castile beleaguering her little principality. With Sancho’s army was the Cid. With him, the chroniclers assure us, the Infanta was in love. If so, these tender sentiments were not allowed to interfere with the vigour of the attack and defence, which were both conducted with ferocious determination. The siege had lasted seven months when a personage called Bellido Dolfos, the son, delightfully enough, of Dolfos Bellido, sought an audience of the king. He had fled from Zamora, he said, to escape the vengeance of Urraca’s minister, Arias Gonzalo; and he would show the king the secret postern in the walls by which he had escaped, and by means of which the town could be taken. This audience appears to have taken place very close to the walls, for we are told that the citizens cried out to Sancho, adjuring him to have nothing to do with Dolfos, who had committed four acts of treason already. These well-meant hints, naturally enough, confirmed Sancho’s confidence in the stranger. On the morning of the 7th October 1072 the two went forth to reconnoitre the walls. Dolfos took advantage of the king in an unguarded moment, and stabbed him in the back. He then promptly ran towards the postern. The Cid, seeing him run, suspected something amiss, and mounting Babieca gave chase; but alas! he had forgotten his spurs, and the assassin made good his escape. Sancho was carried back to the camp, and before he expired attributed his destruction to his father’s curse. The siege was prosecuted with greater vigour than ever by his captains. Don Diego Ordoñez denounced the citizens, without exception of persons, as felon knaves. Arias Gonzalo and his four sons took it upon themselves to vindicate the honour of the town in five successive duels with the Castilian. Three of the Zamoran champions were slain by Ordoñez, but he was jerked out of his saddle by his dead adversary’s wounded horse, and the combat was declared by the judges to be at an end. The venerable Arias Gonzalo thus preserved one of his sons, and Castile her champion. The accession of Alfonso VI. to his murdered brother’s throne restored peace to the distracted kingdom, and left the Infanta in enjoyment of her little state.

Zamora is still encircled with massive walls, strengthened with numerous round towers. The name of Urraca’s Palace is given to a house, old enough to all seeming, close to one of the gates opening near the northern end of the Paseo de Valorio; this gateway is flanked by two bastions, and above it may be seen the bust of Princess Urraca, with the inscription much defaced—

These verses from the Romancero are supposed to have been addressed by the Princess to the Cid, and allude, presumably, to the love-passages between them. The postern through which Dolfos escaped may be seen in the wall farther towards the west. The site of the Cid’s house is also pointed out. The tiny hermitage of Santiago in the Vega marks the spot of the assassination, and a battered cross on a pillar some distance outside the town commemorates Sancho’s exclamation that he would never be king till he was lord of Zamora.

The castle from which perhaps Urraca and Arias Gonzalo looked across at Sancho’s camp is at the western extremity of the town. During the civil wars that disturbed the reign of Alfonso el Sabio, it was held for the king by Doña Teresa Gomez, wife of Garci Perez Chirino. Her youngest child was captured by the rebels, and to save his life she surrendered the fortress. At the time of the disputed succession following the demise of Enrique IV., the castle was held by the Portuguese in the interests of Juana ‘la Beltraneja,’ who held her court here for a brief season. The garrison resisted many determined assaults, and capitulated on honourable terms only after the battle of Toro, February 1476. In after years, and especially during the Peninsular War, the stronghold was adapted to the requirements of modern warfare, and has lost, in consequence, much of its mediæval character.

Hard by is the cathedral, far away from the centre of the town. When the See was restored by Alfonso VI., Gerónimo, the Cid’s confessor, was appointed to it; but he was soon translated to Salamanca (or else Zamora was carved out of that See), and was succeeded by another Frenchman, Bernard, a namesake and countryman of Bernard, Archbishop of Toledo. These foreigners introduced the Romanesque style, of which Zamora must, in its primitive state, have been a noble example. The building was completed in 1174. To that period belongs the grand square tower at the west end of the north aisle—the most conspicuous landmark of the vicinity—with its three upper stories pierced on each side with one, two, and three windows respectively. The tower was designed for defence as well as ornament. Over the crossing rises a dome of beautiful construction, very Oriental in character, with turrets surmounted by smaller cupolas and pierced with rounded windows at its angles. Seen from within, this dome is of the ‘half-orange’ type, the ribbing of the vault giving it very much the appearance of the sections of the fruit. In the sharp fringe of ornament at the angles, Street saw the very earliest kind of suggestion of a crocket, and was of opinion that ‘we have in England no monument of the middle ages which is one whit more precious.’

The cathedral has no west front, and its exterior is, it must be confessed, a veritable patchwork of different styles. The Puerta del Obispo, facing the Episcopal Palace, in the south transept probably dates from the twelfth century. The main entrance is through a four-ordered arch with three shafts in each jamb. The capitals are roughly moulded and have abaci. Over the lateral doorways (now closed up) are rudely-carved reliefs, with dragons and floral devices introduced into the decoration. The two odd-looking rosette-like ornaments above seem to be models of the interior of the dome. Above the three doors runs a gallery of five recessed arches, and over this again a blocked-up window.

The northern entrance, surmounted by a modern clock-tower, is, incongruously enough, in the classical style, with a rounded arch. The interior of this interesting little cathedral is impressive. We are at once struck with the width of the piers (seven feet across) as compared with that of the nave, which is only twenty-three feet. The arches here are in the Pointed style. The aisles are lower than the nave, and supported by broad massive buttresses. There being no western portal, that end of the church is occupied by chapels, which give a very singular effect to the building.

The High Altar and chancel are in the Gothic style, and owe their construction to the absentee bishop Diego Meléndez Valdés, who ruled the See between 1496 and 1506. His arms, five fleurs-de-lys, may be seen on the railings. The retablo, with its jasper columns and gilded capitals, is modern. The subject is the Transfiguration. In the precinct of the High Altar is buried Count Ponce de Cabrera, one of the Emperor Alfonso’s most distinguished lieutenants. The Altar is in the late Gothic style, and must have been erected three centuries after the Count’s death. There are good wrought-iron pulpits on each side of the chancel.

The choir was also the work of Bishop Valdés. It occupies the bays west of the crossing as usual in Spanish churches, but the bad effect of that position is here greatly relieved by the piercing of the western screen or trascoro with two elliptical doorways, between which is a painting representing Christ surrounded by the Blessed. The fittings of the choir are very interesting, and of the same age as the screens. The backs of the lower range of stalls are carved with low reliefs of thirty-eight personages of the Old Dispensation, from Abel to Nebuchadnezzar, Caiaphas, and the Centurion. In their hands are scrolls containing texts, very cleverly chosen, of which a list is given in Neal’s Ecclesiologist, and reprinted in Street’s Gothic Architecture in Spain. The execution is rude, but expressive and painstaking. The upper stalls are adorned with full-length reliefs of saints, confessors, and martyrs of the New Dispensation, which are more delicately designed and finished. Above runs a canopy, sculptured with animal forms. The enormous metal lectern and the Bishop’s Throne, with its tapering spire, are fine examples of Gothic work.

The chapels are not of special interest. That on the middle of the western wall is dedicated to San Ildefonso, but is more generally known as the Capilla del Cardenal, after its founder, Don Juan de Mella, who died in 1467. This prelate’s brother, Alonso de Mella, was the founder of a sect which seems to have resembled the Anabaptists of Westphalia; he was expelled from Castile, and took refuge at Granada, where he was put to death by the Moors. The retablo, by Gallegos, is in six divisions, the subjects being: San Ildefonso receiving at Toledo the chasuble from the hands of the Blessed Virgin, the Discovery of the Relics of St. Leocadia, the Veneration of the Relics, and (above) the Crucifixion, the Baptism of Christ, and the death of John the Baptist. This chapel contains the tombs of the Romero family. In the adjoining sacristy are some interesting battle-scenes from Old Testament history.

The chapel of San Juan Evangelista was built with funds bequeathed by Canon Juan de Grado (1507), whose fine alabaster tomb is surmounted by his recumbent effigy, accompanied by a priest and an angel. Above the canopy is an exquisitely chiselled composition representing the Crucifixion, with expressive statues of the Apostles Peter and Paul; within is a curious but admirable genealogy of the Blessed Virgin, at the base of which is the recumbent figure of an old man, wearing a crown, and representing possibly one of the early patriarchs. The Capilla de San Miguel is of less interest. It contains the sixteenth-century tombs of the canons de Balbas. Of the side-chapels, the most notable is that of San Bernardo, rebuilt in the sixteenth century.

In the sacristy is preserved a remarkable silver monstrance, six feet high, attributed by Ford to Enrique de Arfe. The stand is of later construction, and dates from 1598. On the upper part the local saint, Atilanus, may be seen, seated with the Saviour and the Virgin.

The original cloisters were burnt in 1591, and rebuilt in the present Doric style in 1621 by Juan de Mora.

Under the town walls, close to the cathedral, is the little Romanesque church of San Isidoro, noticeable for its extremely narrow windows, some mere slits in the masonry.

We pass down the long lane-like street which leads into the town, and which in the sixteenth century was the scene of desperate conflicts between the Mazariegos and Monsalves, the Montagues and Capulets of Zamora. The first church passed is that of San Pedro, rebuilt by Bishop Meléndez Valdés, and containing the revered ashes of St. Ildefonso, which were discovered here under miraculous circumstances in the year 1260. The relics of St. Atilanus are also preserved here. Nothing remains of the primitive Romanesque structure, except a little apse on the Epistle side, and a closed-up doorway in the left wall. The originally-distinct nave and aisles were thrown into one at the restoration, and form overhead one immense span. The sacristy contains some interesting objects—sacred vessels and altarpieces of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

Presently we reach the second most interesting church in the town, La Magdalena, a small Romanesque work, said on rather doubtful authority to have been built by the Templars about 1312. The southern doorway is very large in comparison with the edifice. It is deeply recessed between massive buttresses, and formed by a rounded arch with shafts curiously moulded and twisted. Street speaks of this as a very grand example of the latest and most ornate Romanesque work. The carving on the arches is very rich. Above is a large rose window, resembling those in our own Temple church. The interior of the church is architecturally but not æsthetically more interesting than the exterior. The nave has a flat wooden ceiling. The apse is groined, and the chancel has a waggon-vault. The stone pulpit against the north wall is a notable piece of work, but attention at once becomes riveted on the large canopied tombs at the entrance to the chancel. Both are square-topped, with round arches and capitals very purely and vigorously carved. They are generally asserted to date from the thirteenth century, but an inscription over one describes it as the sepulchre of one Acuña and his wife, who died in the fifteenth century. ‘The effect of this monument,’ says Street, ‘filling in as it does the angle at the end of the nave, is extremely good; its rather large detail and general proportions giving it the effect of being an integral part of the fabric rather than, as monuments usually are, a subsequent addition.’

Another canopied tomb against the north wall undoubtedly dates from the earlier period. The capitals of the three twisted shafts are carved with the forms of wyverns fighting. The tomb is closed by a stone on which is a large cross. The occupant—believed by some to have been a Templar—is shown on his deathbed, while above him his soul—represented by a winged head—is borne away by angels. This interesting work may be attributed to a native sculptor acquainted with the art of France and Italy.

Santa Maria la Horta (or de la Huerta), near the river, was modelled, like the Magdalena, on the cathedral. Apart from its architectural peculiarities—the western tower, narrow windows, waggon-vaulting of the chancel, etc.—it is of interest on account of the retablos and paintings in its chapels. Here, as at the very similar church of San Leonardo, the roofing of the nave is not flat but arched, which goes to support Don J. M. Quadrado’s belief (opposed to Street’s) that the flat roof of La Magdalena is an innovation.

The church of San Juan in the Plaza Mayor is in the Flamboyant style. Its most curious feature is a Christ Crucified near the west door, surrounded by human skulls built up in the form of a cross. Hard by is the early Gothic church of San Vicente, with a noble square tower in three stages, and a fine west front.

In a town like Zamora only two kinds of buildings were esteemed—churches and fortresses. Time has spared few important civil monuments. The only ancient house of note is that styled the Casa de los Momos, of which I give an illustration. The heavy stones forming the arch suggest a Castilian architect. The building dates from the sixteenth century, as the enormous coat-of-arms over the entrance might have prepared us to expect. The Ayuntamiento, or Town Hall, in itself devoid of interest, contains some good paintings by Ramon Pedro y Pedret, illustrating the history of the city. It will be seen that Zamora, like almost every other Spanish town, is entitled ‘most noble and loyal’ (muy noble y leal). It is a sombre, fascinating place, where the past is more easily recoverable by the fancy than in many cities more richly endowed with ancient monuments.