Everystranger who crosses the Pyrenees knows that Catalonia differs in many important respects from every other province in the kingdom. He has heard that the natives speak of going into Spain as if they lived outside of it; he knows that they speak a tongue different from the Castilian; that their enterprise and activity distinguish them favourably among King Alfonso’s subjects, and they have kept well abreast of every other European community. All this is true, and it would be easy to enumerate many other peculiarities. The tendency, however, is to exaggerate the points of difference between Spaniard and Catalan, and to lose sight of their fundamental affinity. The language of Catalonia, though not a mere dialect as some suppose, is as essentially Spanish as the Castilian. It was spoken by those Hispani who were driven out of Spain by the Saracens and returned in the ninth century to settle in the north-east corner of the country. Thus Catalan language and peoplewere born in the very heart of the Peninsula and have since been confined to a portion of it only by political causes. There is, of course, no such essential difference between Catalans and Castilians as between Welsh and English, Bretons and French. Both are branches of the great Iberian family. If Catalonia were an independent State, it would be its affinity to Spain that would impress us most, and set us wondering, as we do in Portugal, how two countries so much alike could continue politically distinct.
The superior enterprise and energy of the Catalans may be attributed less, I think, to racial differences than to historical and geographical causes. Far removed from the scene of the secular struggle with the Moor, and dwelling on the marge of the sea which was the principal commercial arena of the ancient and mediæval world, the people of Catalonia had from a very remote period opportunities for development denied to the inhabitants of every other part of Spain. The Moors were expelled from Barcelona at the beginning of the ninth century. Catalonia had thus a start of more than four centuries over Seville, and of six over Malaga—to say nothing further of the incontestable advantages of her geographical position.
Without wishing, it need hardly be said, todepreciate the progressive tendencies of the Catalans, I confess I am inclined to attribute them, not to any racial superiority over other Spaniards, but mainly to the causes I have indicated.
Catalonia thus bears witness to the aptitude of the Spaniard, for the most active forms of commercial and industrial life, to his ability to keep in the van of progress. The lead given by Barcelona will inevitably be followed by all the other towns in the kingdom, now that the special circumstances which retarded their development have been removed. In the most populous city of Spain I fail to recognise a miracle or the work of another people than the Spanish. I see instead the results of Spanish enterprise and capacity singular only in having had the opportunity to assert itself.
From the day—it was in the year 813—that the fleet of the Count of Ampurias gloriously defeated a Saracen squadron off the Balearic Isles, Catalonia has looked seaward. It was on the wave that the men of Barcelona found glory and riches. They were the rivals of the Pisans, Genoese and Venetians, and can boast a maritime history far longer and hardly less glorious than our own. It is recorded in one of the best historical works ever written, the “Memorias sobre la Marina de Barcelona,” byDon Antonio de Capmany y Palau, published in 1779. The learned author contrasts the naval eminence of Barcelona with that of other powers, and assigns the city a higher rank than England and Portugal. In the middle of the Eleventh century, laws regulating and favouring commerce and providing for the suppression of piracy were decreed by Count Ramon Berenguer II. In the year 1114, the third Count of that name assisted, with his own fleet, the Pisans in the reduction of the Island of Majorca; in 1147 Almeria was attacked and plundered by the allied fleets of Barcelona and Genoa; and in the following year another naval victory added Tortosa to the principality.
The conquests of the great King James of Aragon gave a great impetus to the commerce of Barcelona as well as to the development of arts and letters. The extension of the city’s relations to the Levant and Egypt led to the appointment of consuls in all the parts frequented by Catalans. A Maritime Code was promulgated in 1258, and soon became very generally adopted throughout the Mediterranean. A second time the hardy sailors of Barcelona drove the pirates from their nest in the Balearics, the islands this time remaining definitely annexed to the crown of Aragon. All the ships were furnished by the city on this occasion, and the King named as commander Ramon de Plegarnoás, a rich citizen, expert in naval affairs.
In the thirteenth century, Aragon (or in other words, as regards the sea, Barcelona) was the most formidable power in the Mediterranean. Her merchant princes competed successfully with the traders of Genoa and Venice, at the farthest ports of Egypt and Syria. King James when appealing to the States of Aragon for a subsidy to carry on the war against the infidel, reminded them that if Majorca were lost, Catalonia would lose the dominion and absolute power she exercised over the sea. Montaner, the Froissart of his nation, has bequeathed to us a stirring chronicle of the expedition (in which he took part) of the Catalans to Greece under the leadership of Roger de Flor. In the year 1332, Philip of France, when about to embark on the Crusades, was advised to entrust the management of the expedition exclusively to the Genoese and Catalans, these being provided with the best ships and seamen, and the most experienced in naval matters. As late as the year 1467, the Grand Signior found it expedient to pay an indemnity to the King of Aragon to secure immunity for his coasts from the persistent attacks of the dreaded privateers of Barcelona. It is with reason that Capmany attributes to the seamanship of the Barcelonese the extension of the power ofAragon over the kingdoms of Naples, Sicily and Sardinia. Upon the consolidation of Spain at the beginning of the sixteenth century and the rise of the great modern States, the city was eclipsed as a sea power. Its merchants looked with little favour on the discovery of America, an enterprise promoted by Castile. Of the reception of Columbus here by the Catholic Kings, not one word is said in the archives of the city.
Soon after, Barcelona just escaped becoming the scene of a discovery almost as important as that of the New World. Here, says O’Shea, on January 17, 1543, a ship of 200 tons was launched, propelled by two wheels driven by steam. The inventor was Blasco de Garay, and the trial was successfully made in the presence of a royal commission. The King’s treasurer, one Ráongo, for some personal motive it is said, drew up a report unfavourable to the invention, declaring the ship made only six miles in two hours, and that the boiler was likely to burst. Perhaps this report was not ill-founded, for though Garay received a grant of 200,000 maravedis in addition to his expenses, he made no further progress with his invention. The fate of this and many other experiments with steam in the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries seems to prove that our ancestors rather failed to recognise the necessity of any improvement in the means oflocomotion, than wanted the skill to effect it. It will be remembered that Mr. Shandy thought that on economical grounds alone the inventors of mechanical means of transport should be discouraged. A useful invention with which the Barcelonese may fairly be credited, is marine insurance.
Barcelonahas remained true to her traditions. She is still, as of old, a city of merchant princes, a hive of industry, at once the Liverpool and Manchester of Spain. To those who visit the capital of Catalonia after an acquaintance only with the moribund cities of Old Castile, this vision of España Moderna comes as a shock and a revelation. The first impression is not pleasing. You approach the city through a vast wilderness of suburbs, teeming with life, and breathing apparently through grimy factory chimneys. We realise that we have returned to the civilised twentieth century. But the brighter side of modernity is soon revealed. In its heart Barcelona is clean, bright, and spacious. The boulevards are unequalled in Europe—except perhaps by Budapest—and the street prospects are worthy of Washington. The Rambla is the most delightful of promenades; in the Calle Fernando the contents of every shop window tempt the unthrifty. A noble, beautiful modern metropolis, still worthy of Cervantes’ encomium: “Flor de las bellas ciudades del mundo, honrade España, reglo y delicia de sus moradores, y satisfacción de todo aquello que de una grande famosa, rica, y bien fundada ciudad, puede pedir un discreto y curioso deseo.”
Barcelona is richer in monuments of the past than many a more ancient-looking city. Foremost among these is the Cathedral in the very heart of the town, one of the grandest examples of Gothic architecture in Spain. Its extreme sombreness and apparently massive character produce a similar impression to that created by the much larger Cathedral of Seville.
Street thinks very highly of this church, and remarks on the skill with which the architect has contrived to make it appear much larger than it really is. He observes “the architecture of Cataluña had many peculiarities, and in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when most of the great buildings of Barcelona were being erected, they were so marked as to justify me, I think, in calling the style as exclusively national or provincial, as ... was our own Norfolk middle-pointed.... Besides this, there was one great problem which I may venture to say that the Catalan architects satisfactorily solved, the erection of churches of enormous and almost unequalled internal width.”
The primitive Cathedral was built by Count Ramón Berenguer between 1046 and 1058, andconsiderably enlarged in the year 1173. The building, not yet satisfying the needs of the thriving city, was entirely rebuilt at the beginning of the fourteenth century. The design is attributed by Street to Jaime Fabre, a native of Majorca, who was succeeded as master of the works in 1388 by Master Roque. The last stone of the vault was placed on September 26, 1448.
In plan the church is externally a parallelogram, semicircular at the east end. The transepts do not project beyond the line of chapels opening off the aisles, and form each the basis of a tower, 170 feet high. The old timber roofs of these towers have been removed (as from our castles) laying bare simply the vaulting covered with tiles. Over the Puerta de San Ivo by which you enter the north transept, a series of reliefs illustrates a combat between a knight and a dragon. The former is not St. George, the patron of Aragon, but a legendary hero, one Villardell, who by Divine favour was armed with a miraculous sword. With this he slew the monster which had been let loose by the Saracens, and exultingly cried, “Well done, good sword, and stout arm of Villardell!” But at that instant some drops of the dragon’s blood fell on his arm, and he at once expired. He was thus punished for taking the credit of the victory to himself.
The west front, only finished ten years ago,compares very unfavourably with the older portions. The dome over the first or westernmost bay of the nave is also modern. Little else of the exterior can be seen. Inside, as I have said, the church is extremely sombre, and very conducive to what an eminent divine called Gothic devotion. This is due partly to the dark colour of the stone, and partly to the smallness of the windows, which are filled with beautiful fifteenth-century stained glass. The windows of the chapels in the south aisle open into a corresponding row of chapels in the adjacent cloister. Everything, in fact, has been done to keep out the torrid rays. The chapels are continued all round the church, there being no fewer than twenty-seven. The choir is, as usual, in the middle of the nave, being separated by the crossing from the chancel. Twenty massive and somewhat inelegant clustered columns separate the nave from the aisles and the chancel from the ambulatory, and from their capitals spring the nineteen arches forming the vaulted roof. Nave and aisles are alike 83 feet high. The cathedral is dedicated to a local martyr, Santa Eulalia, whose body since the year 1339 has reposed in the crypt beneath the chancel. The shrine of the saint was the work of Fabre and is in Italian Gothic style. The ark is sculptured with scenes from the saint’s life.
There is little remarkable about the High Altar. The choir-stalls are richly carved, and date from the late fifteenth century. Like the stalls of St. George’s Chapel at Windsor, they are decorated with coats of arms—those of the knights of the Order of the Golden Fleece, in commemoration of the chapter held here by Charles V. (then only King of Spain) in 1519. Among the Knights present were the Kings of Denmark and Poland, the Prince of Orange, and the Duke of Alva. The rear wall of the choir is beautifully adorned with columns, and reliefs of Bartolomé Ordonez, and Pedro Vilar of Zaragoza, representing scenes from the life of the titular. It is a fine example of the Spanish Renaissance style. Before beginning an examination of the chapels, attention may be called to the huge Saracen’s head hanging from the organ in the north transept—a common feature in Catalan churches, and symbolising the reconquest of their sites from the infidel.
A floor runs round the church above the side chapels and is carried across the west front. The upper rooms were never used as places of worship. The chapels are closed by mediæval grilles of wrought iron. They date mostly from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and present no very interesting features. This is fortunate for the painstaking sightseer, as theobscurity renders an examination difficult. A crucifix in the uppermost chapel in the chevet is a memorial of the battle of Lepanto, where it was carried on the prow of Don Juan’s flagship. The image is believed by some to have bent its head to avoid the Turkish bullets. In the chapels of San Miguel Arcángel and Nuestra Señora del Patrocinio, close by, are the fine Gothic tombs of Bishop Berenguer de Palau (died 1240) and of one of his successors, Poncio de Gualba (died 1334). Leaving the ambulatory by the north, the chapel on the right contains another good Gothic monument to Bishop Escaler. The finest tomb, on the whole, is that of Doña Sancha de Cabrera, lady of Noalles, in the chapel of San Clemente, in the south aisle; and three chapels farther on is the sarcophagus of the great Catalan saint, Ramon de Penafort. The two wooden urns covered with crimson velvet in the wall between the south transept and the sacristy enshrine the ashes of Count Ramon Berenguer the Old, and his consort, Almodis (died 1070). Opening off the south aisle, close to the main entrance, is the large square chapel of the Holy Sacrament, or of St. Olegarius, with a fine star-vaulting, the seventeenth-century monument of the titular, and some paintings of Villadomat, a local artist of some repute, who lived in the first half of the eighteenth century. There are also some paintings of merit by the Tramullas, father and son, of Perpignan, but generally speaking this fine cathedral is poor in painting and statuary.
Cloisters are nearly always charming, and those adjoining the Cathedral on the south side are certainly so, with their palms and fruit trees and fountains. One of these last is adorned with a statue of St. George, a jet of water serving as a tail to the horse. In one corner is a goose-pond. I saw nothing of the cats who, Street says, were prowling about the cloisters and church, and contrived to get into the choir-stalls just before service, whence they were forthwith chased by the choristers and such of the clergy as happened to be there. I have witnessed such scenes in French churches, where they are very distracting to the devout. The cloister was begun by Master Roque and finished in 1448. The architecture has been variously criticised, and the tombs for the most part are poor. On these the profession of the deceased is indicated by the implements of his trade lightly graven. The resting-place of Mosém (Monseigneur) Borrà, the jester of Alfonso V. of Aragon, is distinguished by the cap and bells. In the Chapel of the Conception there used to be, says O’Shea, a picture painted by order of the municipality in gratitude for the cessation of the plague in 1651, at the intercession of the Virgin. The keys of the city, made insilver, were presented to her on that occasion. In the chapel of Santa Lucia, at the south-west angle of the cloister, Street recognised a fragment of the old cathedral. The entrance into the south transept is of the same date. By the graceful Puerta Santa Eulalia we pass into the street.
We presently pass the Bishop’s Palace, an eighteenth-century structure incorporating some late Romanesque arcading. But leaving other interesting buildings in this the oldest quarter of Barcelona for the moment, we will seek the next most notable church in the town, that of Santa Maria del Mar. It occupies the site of the earliest shrine of Santa Eulalia, over which Bishop Aetius built a temple in the thousandth year of our era. This modest church was replaced by another in the year 1329, which was restored and reconsecrated after a disastrous fire in 1383 under the reign of Pedro the Ceremonious. All classes of the community assisted in the work. Those who could not give money gave their labour, and in commemoration of this two small bronze figures carrying stone and timber adorn the principal door. The edifice is a good example of the Catalan church in its breadth and height of nave and simplicity of plan. Like the cathedral, it forms a parallelogram rounded at the east end, and presents an unbroken line ofwall to the exterior. Churches of this type usually consist of nave only, but Santa Maria del Mar has two aisles. Enormous octagonal columns carry the main arches and the groining ribs which all spring from their capitals. The wall rib towards the nave is carried up higher than the main arches, so as to allow space between them for a small circular and traceried clerestory window in each bay. The arches of the apse are very narrow, and enormously stilted. There are small windows above them, but they are modernised. The aisles are groined on the same level as the main arches, a few feet, therefore, below the vault of the nave, and they are lighted by a four-light traceried window in each bay, the sill of which is above the string-course formed by continuing the abacus of the capitals of the groining shafts. Below this are three arches in each bay, opening into side chapels between the main buttresses. Each of these chapels is lighted by a traceried window of two lights, and the outer wall presents a long unbroken line, until above the chapels, when the buttresses rise boldly up to support the great vaults of the nave and aisles.[A]The interior, though still simple and dignified, has been marred by modern restorations. Another peculiarity remains to be noted: the choir is placedbehind the high altar. Of this latter, a costly but churrigueresque erection, the less said the better. The royal pew in the south aisle, recalling the days when Barcelona was a capital, was connected with the palace by a gallery now destroyed. The church contains some good glass and examples of the art of Villadomat, a painter of whom Catalonia can boast. His fate was extremely sad: for the last seventeen years of his long life, he was paralysed in both hands.
[A]Street, “Gothic Architecture in Spain.”
[A]Street, “Gothic Architecture in Spain.”
Standing on the sinister spot where, twelve years ago, twelve people were killed and fifty others injured by a miscreant’s bomb, we survey the fine west front. This is flanked by two octagonal towers, of the telescope kind, and has a magnificent rose-window, above which I rather felt that an attic or story gable was wanted. The portal is richly moulded, and adorned with sculpture. The doors are faced with iron.
The churches of Santa Maria del Pino and of Santos Justo and Pastor are on the same plan, with slight modifications. Adjoining the former is a tall detached belfry, producing a fine effect. The church was consecrated in 1453, and derived its name according to one account from an image of the Virgin found in the trunk of a pine. The west front, Street considers to have been designed by the architect of the north transept door of the cathedral. Unlike Santa Maria delMar, there are no chapels in the apse, though they are found between the buttresses of the nave. There is no aisle. In this church Villadomat is buried.
Santos Justo-y-Pastor is another single-nave church, founded in 1345, on the oldest church site in the city. It has been modernised inside and out. In the days of the ordeal by combat the parties, fully armed, made oath in this church, on the altar of San Felio, as to the justice of their cause and to use no “constellated or enchanted weapons.” We read that James I. declared null and void the issue of an encounter between Arnuldo de Cabrera and Bernardo de Cantellas on the ground that the one had worn certain jewels believed to be enchanted, and that the other had been invested with a shirt rendered impenetrable by a spell. To-day, I understand, an oath taken in this church as to the last wishes of a citizen who has died intestate, will be sufficient grounds for the issue of letters of administration accordingly. Here also Jews were sworn with both hands placed on the Decalogue, and according to a long and terrific formula. This is given at length by Don Pablo Piferrer in the original Catalan, and is calculated to appal the most hardened perjurer.
Barcelona, it will have been seen, abounds in ancient and interesting churches. San Pablodel Campo was founded in the first decades of the tenth century by Count Wilfred II., who was buried in it, as his epitaph on a Roman tablet attests. Destroyed by Al Mansûr, the church was rebuilt on the same plan in 1117 by Jinbert Jintardo and his wife Rotlandis. The west front has retained much of its primitive Romanesque character. The symbolical sculpture is crude and curious. The interval is very striking in its simplicity. The cloister is more ornate and the decoration is considered by some to mark the transition from the Romanesque to the Moorish style. More eastern in character is the venerable church of San Pere de las Puellas, believed to date from the tenth century. It is so called from the nuns who formerly inhabited the adjoining convent and who, at the time of Al Mansûr’s invasion, cut off their lips and noses to avoid the amorous attentions of the Moors.
There remain to be visited the old chapel royal of Santa Agueda, now converted into an archæological museum, where Alfonso el Casto was baptized, where the order of Montesa was established, and where the claims of the candidates to the crown of Aragon were discussed in 1410.
Santa Ana, built in 1146 in imitation of the church of the Holy Sepulchre (as it was then), with a curious fourteenth-century cloister placed at an angle to the main building, and the simplegraceful arches of the chapel of Montesion, where are hung the Turkish ensigns won by Spanish valour at Lepanto.
One instinctively searches at Barcelona for monuments of civic state befitting a city of such antiquity and dignity. Happily such are not lacking and have been preserved to us. The noble Gothic façade of the Town Hall (Casa Consistorial), erected in 1373, has been recently restored, fortunately with good taste. The Council Chamber (Salon de Ciento), formed of two bays which support an artesonado roof, is lined by a collection of portraits of Catalan worthies, among whom we distinguish Capmany, Villadomat and Montaner. A finer building and preserving more of its primitive character is the Diputacion, the old Parliament House of Catalonia, and now the seat of the Provincial Court. This monument, declares Piferrer, “is the admiration of foreigners and the honour of Barcelona. He who seeks for originality of style, let him examine all its parts and be convinced that many are of a character entirely new.” Built in the early fifteenth century, it underwent frequent restorations and enlargements, and was rebuilt in great part in 1609 by Maestre Pere Blai, who spared the best portions of the old work. The principal façade is cold and devoid of interest, except for the figure of St. George abovethe entrance. To that saint is dedicated the chapel, with its fine ogival portal, and the adjoining wall damascened (to quote Piferrer) with reliefs. The chapel is the repository of an exquisite altar frontal, worked with the design of St. George and the Dragon, and designed by Antonio Sadarni, in 1458. The pillars sustaining the galleries of the patio, at one time much admired for their daring and ingenious execution, were bending and giving way under the strain till restored and strengthened a few years ago by Don Miguel Garriga y Roca, a local architect.
The halls breathe the dignity and gravity of a great corporation. The majestic Salon del Tribunal with its dome and hangings is adorned with portraits of the Kings of Spain, and paintings by Fortuny, one representing the victory of Marshal Prim over the Moors at Tetuan. Catalonia keeps ever green the memory of her heroes.
The rapid extension of the most populous city of Spain has fortunately spared several noble monuments of bygone ages and beliefs. About an hour’s walk from the Tibidabo brings one to the Romanesque monastery of San Cucufat (or Cugat) del Valles, founded by Charlemagne on the site of a Roman camp, and rebuilt between 1009 and 1014. The exterior is fortified with battlements and flanking towers, the main entrance being pierced through a tall square gatehouse, and having been defended by a drawbridge. The Abbey Church is in the finest Romanesque style, with an octagonal lantern, apse, nave, and aisles. The interior is plain and sombre, despite the abominable baroque chapels which have been added to the right aisle. The church contains but one tomb of importance—that of the builder or founder, the Abbot Otho, who was also Bishop of Gerona, and flourished at the dawn of the eleventh century.
The cloister of San Cugat has afforded the Romanesque sculptors the opportunity of gratifying their most exuberant fancy in stone. The capitals reveal an extraordinary profusion and variety of designs—Biblical scenes being associated with fables, conventional designs, and animals’ heads. Examples of the quaint and more childlike conceptions of a rather later age (fourteenth century) may be found in some curious paintings, set in retablos, still adorning the church. They are specimens of a style peculiar to Catalonia, Valencia, and the Balearic Islands, at the period “which analogies [says one authority] with the early Tuscan and old Cologne schools.”
Geronadeserves to be, but through some freak of fortune is not, as famous as Saragossa. Its many sieges, especially those that took place in the Peninsular War, are among the many proofs of the Spaniard’s extraordinary tenacity in the defence of positions. Numantia, Saguntum, Saragossa, Gerona, and Cartagena—can any other country boast so many and such glorious instances of heroism and resistance to an overwhelming foe? These five names should be inscribed on the national escutcheon. They might even one day have more than a sentimental value, and cause potential invaders to think twice before violating Spanish soil.
Gerona, then, has covered itself with glory, not once, but repeatedly. The very paynim Moors were invigorated by the heroic atmosphere, for we read that as long ago as 785 they defied the arms of Louis the Pious, till the Christian townsfolk, thinking that enough had been done for the renown of Gerona, arose and expelled them. In the succeeding centuries the Geronese grew used to this business of sieges, and their assailantsgrew more wary. In 1285 the French King, Philippe le Hardi, sat down before the town and contentedly starved it into submission. Gerona yielded under protest, and took care to place it on record that she was not taken by force but by hunger, as the inscription not “per forsa, mes per fam” over the Puerta de la Cárcel to this day testifies. More than four centuries later came another Philippe from beyond the Pyrenees, welcomed by all Spaniards except Catalans. Gerona stubbornly held out for Austrian Charles, and her garrison of 2000 men bade defiance to Philippe’s 9000. The Bourbon won; and to punish the recalcitrant city abolished her University. But a hundred years after, Gerona recovered her laurels. Her garrison of three hundred men, commanded by Colonel O’Daly, withstood successfully the repeated assaults of 6000 French under Duhesme, and beheld in August 1808 the hurried and inglorious flight of the besiegers. Of the great siege of 1809 you may read in the pages of Napier. The commander and hero of the defence was Mariano Alvarez—a much finer fellow than Palafox; and had he not been stricken with fever and rendered unconscious, the town might not have surrendered, as it ultimately did after a seven months’ siege. It had cost Napoleon 15,000 men. Here, as at Saragossa, the women fought beside themen and worked the guns, under the banner of St. Barbara. Unconquerable Gerona! Well might the heirs to the crown of haughty Aragon have been proud to bear the title of your prince.
Towns with such stories invariably reflect them in their physiognomies. Gerona’s aspect is eloquent of history and legend. Her balconied houses—yellow and white—seem to rise out of the waters of the river Oñar, reminding one at moments of a Venetian canal. But to dispel such an illusion you have but to lift your eyes to the castled hill of Montjuich, in which the defensive power of the town resides and whose sides have borne the brunt of every battle that has raged round Gerona. Penetrating into the labyrinth of streets behind the river front, we find them dark, narrow, and silent enough to be haunts of the muse of history; but here and there—often, indeed—we find animated squares and thoroughfares that show us that Gerona is not outside the brisk Catalonian current.
The vast cathedral lifts its towers near the river’s marge. It was founded, after the expulsion of the Moors, by Louis the Pious, in 786, and was rebuilt in the year 1016. It was consecrated by the Archbishop of Narbonne, on the French side, assisted by bishops both Cispyrenean and Transpyrenean. Extensive alteration and restoration went on in the fourteenth century, amongthe architects being two from Narbonne. Perhaps I may be pardoned the digression when I remark that natural boundaries seem to have been of less importance in the Middle Ages than now; a fact which may, it seems to me, be partly attributed to the relative facility with which great mountain barriers could be passed by the usual means of conveyance in those days. If you travel only on horseback, a mountain pass presents little more difficulty than a high road. Street, who extracted these particulars of the cathedral’s history from various Spanish works, tells us of the deliberations as to the adoption of the architect Guillermo Boffy’s plan for a nave of a single span. Fortunately the twelve architects composing the jury (Pascasio de Xulbe, Juan de Xulbe, Pedro de Valfogona, Guillermo de la Mota, Bartolomé Gual, Antonio Canet, Guillermo Abiell, Arnaldo de Valleras, Antonio Antigoni, Guillermo Sagrera, Jehan de Guinguamps, and Boffy himself) pronounced in favour of the plan, and the work was put in hand that same year, 1417. The first stone of the campanile was not laid till 1581, and the west front was begun as lately as 1607.
This grand church consists, then, of a single nave 73 feet wide, four bays in length, and terminating in the usual semicircular east end. The west front, in the poor style of the seventeenth century, calls for no remark, and gives no promise of the grandeur of the interior. Street thinks the exterior could never have looked very well. Even the south door, executed in 1458, does not merit praise, though its terra-cotta statues are curious and well preserved.
The vast nave is blocked and greatly marred by the central choir, moved into this ill-chosen position long after the completion of Boffy’s work. Three arches separate the east end from the nave. Above them are three large round windows. Street praises this arrangement and says that it enhances this effect of vastness. “In short, had this nave been longer by one bay, I believe that scarcely any interior in Europe could have surpassed it in effect.”
The high altar is of alabaster with a silver frontal, and belonged to the old cathedral. It was the gift of Ermesindes, the wife of Count Ramon Borel (1038). The reredos is a very rich and interesting work plated with silver. It was completed in 1348. The subjects in the three tiers of niches relate respectively to the lives of the saints, the life of the Blessed Virgin, and the life of Our Lord. The work is crowned by the figures of Christ and His Mother, and the saints Narcissus and Feliu. Of the same period is the baldachin, the vault of which is covered with sacred subjects, while the shafts are adorned withheraldic achievements. Behind the reredos is the bishop’s throne, formed of a single piece of marble. “Here, when the bishop celebrated pontifically, he sat till the oblation and returned to it again to give the benediction to the people.”
In addition to the objects of interest to which the architect of our Law Courts calls attention—the wooden wheel of bells, &c.—the cathedral contains several tombs worthy of examination. In the choir is buried Count Ramon Berenguer, surnamed Cap d’Estopa; in the presbytery, on the gospel side, is the tomb of Bishop Berenguer de Anglesola; Doña Ermesindes lies between the chapels of Corpus and San Juan; Bishop Bernardo de Pau in the chapel of San Pablo.
Adjoining the church is the dark gloomy cloister, which existed in the early twelfth century, and in which Street recognised “one of the main branches of the stream by which Romanesque art was introduced into Spain” from south-eastern France. The galleries, with marble columns and stone roofs, enclose a court with tall trees and a cistern in the centre. Numerous black memorial tablets let into the walls have failed to keep alive the memory of the dead.
The archives of the cathedral contain a Bible, at one time believed to have been the gift of Charlemagne, and enriched with the signature of Charles V. of France. Another treasure is anilluminated code dating from the tenth century, and relating to the Apocalypse—a chapter in Holy Writ which at that period, when the end of the world was believed to be at hand, greatly occupied the minds of men.
Not far from the cathedral, and nearer to the river Oñar, is the collegiate church of San Feliu or San Felix rising proudly above the town. Its tall campanile is visible from every part of the town and is a familiar landmark for miles around. It was built in 1392, and is in three stages: the first or lower stage, quite plain, the second adorned with graceful windows, the third putting forth shoots in the shape of tapering finials. “It is seldom,” says Street, “that the junction of tower and spire is more happily managed than it is here; and before the destruction of the upper part of the spire the whole effect must have been singularly graceful.” Though the church seems to have been almost entirely rebuilt in the fourteenth century, as a foundation, St. Feliu dates back to the eighth century and was used by the Christians during the Moorish occupation, which, by the way, only lasted sixty-eight years. The interior seems, like the cathedral’s, to have consisted of a single nave, but to this aisles have been added, the whole terminating in a tri-apsidal chevet. The west front dates from the seventeenth century. Thehigh altar has some good paintings and sculpture, the canopies over the tomb of San Feliu and the statues of the Virgin and St. Narcissus being especially notable. The modern chapel of the last-named saint is gorgeously enriched with jasper of many colours. In this church is buried the heroic Don Mariano Alvarez de Castro, beneath a monument, dating from 1880, executed in Carrara marble and in the reddish yellow stone of the country. The tomb is crowned by a mourning female figure, which I have been told is a portrait of the general’s wife. The sepulchre of San Feliu dates from the thirteenth century and is sculptured with compositions representing scenes from the saint’s life. Leaving San Feliu by the south door, we pass through the dark and massive Portal de Sobreportas, formed by two huge round towers, connected by a modern intervening story, and at the end of a long gloomy lane reach a Capuchin convent. The object of our visit is a soi-disant Moorish bath, covered in by a graceful little pavilion with eight slender columns.
The oldest church at Gerona appears to be the little oratory of San Nicolas, built in the form of a cross with its arms ending in apses, surmounted by domes. The height of the nave is not much more than that of a tall man. Hardly inferior in antiquity is the church of San Pedro de Galligans.This is named, not after the Gauls, as one might be tempted to suppose, but after a little stream called the Galligans, which at this point flows into the Oñar. Like every other religious edifice in Gerona, its foundation is attributed to Charlemagne, but (according to Piferrer) the earliest mention of the church occurs in the year 992, while the actual fabric was building at the time a third part of the coinage of Gerona was given by Count Ramon Berenguer III. to the Benedictine monastery of which his brother was abbot. Street inclines to think San Pedro was built by the architect of the church at Elne in Roussillon. The principal apse here, as at Avila, projects beyond the town wall; on the south side of it are two smaller apses side by side, opening into the south transept; the north transept expands into apses on the north and east and is crowned by a fine octagonal steeple with two rows of round-headed windows. The west front is approached by steps, many of them bearing Romano-Gothic inscriptions; there is a single round-arched western door with good fern-leaf carving on its capitals, and above this a rose-window. Within, the church consists of a nave, separated by tall, massive columns from the aisles. The capitals are rude, but offer great variety of design and execution. There is a clerestory, but no windows to the aisles, whichare more like corridors. On the south side is a cloister probably carved coeval with the church, but terribly damaged during the siege, and now converted into the Provincial Museum.
“The whole character of this church,” remarks Street, “is very interesting. The west front reminded me much of the best Italian Romanesque, and the rude simplicity of its interior—so similar in its mode of construction to the great church at Santiago in the opposite corner of the Peninsula—suggests the probability of its being one of the earliest examples of which Spain can boast.”
From San Pedro we may follow the course of the little river Galligans to the deserted monastery of San Daniel, dating as a building from the eleventh century. In 1015 the original foundations were sold by Bishop Pedro Roger to Count Ramon Borell III. and his wife Ermesindes, for one hundred ounces of gold. The Countess erected a monastery, which was completed by the less fortunate wife of Ramon Cap d’Estopa. The west front and nave are Gothic, the chancel and lantern in good Romanesque style. In front of the sanctuary a flight of steps leads down to the shrine of the titular saint, whose tomb dates from the fourteenth century.
North of Gerona lies FIGUERAS, accounted the strongest fortress in Spain. Like so manyother “impregnable” strongholds, it has been taken again and again, so often, in fact, as to give rise to the saying, “Figueras belongs to Spain in peace, and to France in war.” It is only fair to add that in several instances its fall has been due to treachery. In a miserable chamber in the castle of San Fernando died Mariano Alvarez de Castro, a prisoner in the hands of the French. The guide-books speak of a religious procession which takes place here on the last Monday in May, and is called the Profaso de la Tramontana, after the north wind, which blows here with great violence.
In the vicinity of Figueras is the church of Villabertrán, dating from the end of the eleventh century. Designed by a priest it exhibits, remarks a Spanish writer, in every detail the ecclesiastical bias. All animal figures are excluded as tending to disturb religious recollection. The interior is nobly designed but destitute of all ornament. “In this temple everything appeals to the reason, nothing to the imagination; these low dark vaults dissipate illusions; the thought of death oppresses the mind; but the eyes discern a gleam of light in the darkness of the sanctuary, and the soul hungrily seeks a gleam of faith in the gloom of doubt.”
Of a similarly severe character is the adjacent cloister. The campanile of the church alonepresents any airy or graceful features. The whole foundation would have been spared even by Knox or Calvin.
On the bay of Rosas, the town of Castellón de Ampurias recalls the great city of Empurias which was founded by the Greeks, and utterly perished at the end of the twelfth century. It was among those great maritime powers which for long resisted the encroachments of the Carthaginians, and which fell in turn before the irresistible arms of Rome—reminders for us of the days when the fate of the Mediterranean still hung in the balance, and it was yet uncertain whether the civilisation of Europe should be Hellenic, Punic or Latin. The destruction of Empurias is ascribed partly to the Saracens, partly to the Normans. Whoever accomplished the work did it thoroughly, for nothing but the name survives of this once rich and puissant colony of Hellenes.
Castellón de Ampurias is a Latin foundation, with which time has dealt unkindly. Its parish church of Santa Maria is a noble monument of its prime. It was consecrated in 1064 and finished in the late Gothic period. To this last style belongs the west porch, with a pointed arch of six orders, and the figures of the Twelve Apostles beneath canopies in the jambs. The tympanum shows a relief of the Adoration of the Magi.Contrasting strikingly with this carefully chiselled and graceful Gothic work is the stern square campanile to the left, a remnant of the Romanesque days. The interior is early Gothic. The combination of this with the preceding style is strikingly shown in the principal apse. The altar, a single piece of marble, is carved with reliefs which exhibit (says Pi y Margall) the artist’s breadth of imagination rather than his skill.
Further inland is the venerable abbey of San Pedro de Roda, founded in the tenth century, and abandoned by the religious in the year 1799. To-day the monastic buildings are in utter ruin, but enough of the church remains to fill us with admiration for the loftiness of its nave, the harmonious admixture of the Romanesque with the pure classic forms, the skilful decoration of the various parts, and the sombre majesty of the whole.
Theriver Ter, which washes the walls of Gerona, is born among the snows of the Puigmal, the loftiest of the Eastern Pyrenees. Its stream is still ice-cold when it flows past the little town of San Juan de las Abadesas, which changed its name from Ripollet upon the foundation of an abbey within its precincts by Wilfred the Hairy, Count of Barcelona, in the year 877. The Count’s daughter was the first Abbess. The present abbatial church replaced the original structure in 1150. It is strictly cruciform, consisting of a nave and transept without aisles. There are only two columns in the church, these being planted at the entrance to the presbytery. The chancel is in the florid late Gothic style, contrasting oddly with the extreme simplicity of the rest of the fabric. Behind the altar is a figure of Christ, sculptured in the year 1250; in the forehead, it is believed, is contained a Host, which has preserved its integrity for seven centuries, and which it was found impossible to remove in the year 1598. The church has two choirs, both blocking the nave. The north and south porches werereserved respectively for men and women. The adjoining cloister is in good fifteenth-century style, and was probably designed or improved by the architect of the Palacio de la Diputacion at Barcelona.
Five or six miles farther down the valley stands Ripoll, one of the towns that suffered most severely during the Carlist wars. It has, however, long since recovered from its reverses. Unfortunately the damage done to the monastery founded by Wilfred the Hairy cannot be repaired. As the Mausoleum of the counts from the ninth to the twelfth century, it possessed great interest. The church, built by Bishop Oliva about the thousandth year of our era, is roofless. The nave terminates in an apse, and there are three smaller apses opening from the east into each transept. The special glory of the building is its west porch, formed by a rounded arch with three shafts in each jamb. The middle shafts are carved into life-size figures of St. Peter and St. Paul; the others are most beautifully chiselled. The orders of the arch are variously treated; caprices, grotesques, masques, mythological designs being interwoven with more appropriate religious symbols. One series of reliefs appears to represent the twelve months.
The façade on either side of this portal is similarly decorated with graphic reliefs in six courses, the lowest representing scenes in whichcentaurs, lions, &c., figure; above this is a row of figures of knights, princes, and prelates; above this, battle scenes, then come two rows of sacred figures and subjects, and finally the figure of God the Father attended by angels and princes. The whole of this portal is of profound interest to students of the Romanesque.
The interior of the church was restored as lately as twenty years ago. All styles seem to have entered into its architecture. Instead of columns, massive piers support the vaulting, and mark off the aisles from the nave. The chancel—merely a shallow apsidal prolongation of the nave—is strewn with the ruins of the high altar and the roof.
The cloister of the monastery is the most interesting part. It is composed of an upper and lower gallery of round arches, uninterrupted by any piers or buttresses. The harmony of the whole is admirable. The columns are of Gerona marble, and pinkish grey in hue. Variety is imparted by the capitals whereon the unknown sculptor has expended his fanciful, nervous genius. The upper gallery was not completed till the end of the fourteenth century, though the cloister had been begun as far back as 1172.
Farther down stream is Vich, a town constantly referred to in the annals of the Carlist wars. As the history of that insurrection is not well known to foreigners, visitors are more likely to be interested in the monuments that have survived those troubled times. The cathedral was built in 1040—a date which sounds promising; but alas! the architects of the eighteenth century have forestalled us, and have worked their wicked will upon a once noble church. The artistic eye will not linger upon the exterior, but it may find some refreshment in the majestic nave, divided from the aisles by six clustered columns, with Corinthian capitals. When the church was rebuilt, all the tombs were swept away, and none of the altars spared, except the high altar, which is a meritorious work of the early fifteenth century. As at Ripoll, there is a fine cloister built five hundred years ago. The gallery, with its pointed openings and trefoil and quatrefoil tracery, is built over a substructure with round arched open vaults. The centre of the quadrangle is occupied by the statue and monument of the philosopher Balmes, who was born at Vich and died in 1848, aged only thirty-eight years. He is buried in the cathedral nave.
Outside this church there is little to be seen in the old Catalan town. The remains of a Roman temple are worth examination, and the artist may find plenty of material for sketches in the picturesque Plaza Mayor.
From Vich it is about forty-five miles to Barcelona.
Leridais another of those Catalan cities that remind one of the saying about new wine in old bottles. Seen from afar it is clearly one of those old human hives that have existed on the same spot ever since man felt the need of a permanent abode—you have the hill-site, the walls, the towers, the flowing river, the mediæval aspect. You observe with delight a humpbacked bridge, such as (with a total disregard for beasts of burden) our pious ancestors loved to build. And over all rises the cathedral—or, as we shall soon learn, what was the cathedral. But on a closer inspection we find that time has by no means left Lerida untouched. Already she has overflowed into the opposite side of the stream, and there is a big new suburb with wide white streets, spaciously planned squares, and avenues along which the trees are beginning to grow. And as you cross the humpbacked bridge, you observe that the centre arch is quite new, and as you enter the old town, you are astonished by the stir and the modernity of it all. It is just like Smyrna or Damascus. Every one has been toobusy to build the town over again. Its poor old rickety houses, in which men designed to lead only the sedatest of lives, have been hastily requisitioned for the service of modern industry and commerce. The low rooms are packed with merchandise, the frail houses seem like to burst. The underground cellars come in very handily. Lerida is very much alive. Some day she will have to pull her house down and build a new one altogether.
Probably no one would have come to Lerida—no strangers of the uncommercial variety, that is—if Street had not told us about the old cathedral, since turned into a barracks. Nor without his detailed and professional description would the average traveller be able to make much of the building. The purposes to which it has been put have obscured the outlines of the features of the original fabric. But you cannot overlook it for it stands high on the hill like a citadel, which, indeed, it has now become.
Lerida—which the Catalans, by the way, call Lleyda—was known to the Romans as Ilerda, and when they turned Christian, they built a church on this site. This, it is supposed, became a mosque during the brief Moorish period, to be reconsecrated on the reappearance of the Christians. The first stone of the actual building was laid on July 22, 1203, in the presence of KingPedro II., and the consecration took place on October 31, 1278.
(People often wonder why we do not build cathedrals nowadays equal to the old. One of the reasons may be that we are in too great a hurry. In the Middle Ages no man expected to see the completion of the work he began. They were animated by a strong communal sense, different from the individualism of to-day.)
The excellent bishop and chapter of Lerida in the year 1707 thought the cathedral too old for their requirements, and having already commissioned a military architect to build them a new church in the city below, thither they removed. By a fair exchange the military took possession of the cathedral. They willingly display it to you, and the non-commissioned officer who shows you round seems less in a hurry to get the visit over than your clerical cicerone usually is.
The lay traveller in attempting to understand this church has always to refer himself to the explanation of Street or else to that of Piferrer, which is certainly not so intelligible. In plan, then, the church is cruciform with three eastern apses and square transept arms. Another apse projects eastward from the south transept, which is flanked on the other side by a semicircular chapel, pointing south. Over the crossing risesan octagonal lantern, roofed like the whole church with stone, and pierced in each face with double windows with varied tracery. At its north-west angle is a slender octagonal staircase turret, rising from the south-west angle of the north transept. There is a similar but stouter tower, detached from the lantern, rising over the south transept. These towers give the whole pile a romantic and beautiful appearance.
The principal portal, called in the Catalan dialect the Puerta dels Fillols, opens into the middle of the south aisle. “This [says our authority] is an example of singularly rich transitional work, with an archivolt enriched with chevrons, mouldings, dog-tooth, intersecting arches, and elaborate foliage. There is the usual horizontal cornice over the arch, and above this is a fourteenth-century statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary and Our Lord. The horizontal cornice is carried on moulded corbels, between which and the wall are carvings of wyverns and other animals; whilst the soffit of the cornice in each compartment is carved with delicate tracery panels, in some of which I thought I detected some trace of Moorish influence. The cornice has a delicate trailing branch of foliage; and the labels and two or three orders of the arch, in which sculpture of foliage is introduced, are remarkable for the singular delicacy and refinement of thelines of the foliage, and for the exceeding skill with which they have been wrought. There is none of that reckless dash which marks our carvers nowadays, but in its place a patient elaboration of lovely forms, which cannot too much be praised. The mouldings here are all decidedly characteristic by a later—probably fifteenth-century—vaulted porch, which occupies the space between two added chapels. The effect is very good and picturesque.”
The transept doors are also very fine, especially the southern one. The cornice is beautifully sculptured and the wheel window above reveals in its details the influence of the Italian Romanesque. These entrances make us regret the effacement of the west porch, which is concealed by the vast square cloister covering that side of the church. This remarkable building, now occupied by troops, is the grandest, Street declared, he had ever seen. In its present desecrated state, it must be confessed it needs a highly trained eye to appreciate its beauty. The arcades are walled up, and there is some ground for supposing that when in ecclesiastical occupation the galleries were used as dormitory and refectory. The details vary greatly. The bays vary in width, the sculpture is of all sorts of design, and of all periods. Adjoining this vast cloister on the north side is a long barrel-vaulted hall, lighted only at one end. Onthe west side the cloister is entered through an enormous western doorway with a pointed arch. South of this and almost detached from the cloister stands that beautiful octagonal steeple which served Pedro Balaguer as a model for the Micalet Tower at Valencia. It is 170 feet high and divided into five stages, “the whole construction being of the most dignified and solid description.”
Concerning the position of this tower, Street remarks: “Here, as often happens with detached campaniles, the grouping of the steeple with the church from various points of view is very diversified, and often very striking. From its great height above the valley it is seen on all sides, and generally at some distance. From the south, the grand size of the cloister, which connects the steeple with the church, gives it somewhat the effect of being in fact at the west end of an enormous building, of which the cloister may be the nave; whilst the steeple rears its whole height boldly to the right, and makes the whole scheme of the work utterly unintelligible, until after a thorough investigation.”
The interior of the church is now cut horizontally by a plank flooring, and no features of interest can be distinguished, except in a single apsidal chapel, which is still used as such, and where is buried a natural son of King Pedro theCatholic, who died in 1254. Whitewash has obscured all the details of capitals and columns.
Adjacent to the cathedral on the north side is the ruin of a once noble hall, with traces of Moorish influence in its carving—possibly the remains of a chapter-house or episcopal palace.
Far exceeding the cathedral in antiquity is the church of San Lorenzo hard by, though it is not safe to accept the tradition of its Gothic origin. It was certainly built prior to the twelfth century. Originally just an apse and a nave, with walls eight feet thick and a span of thirty-three feet, aisles each ending in an apse were added to it at a much later period. They communicate with the nave by very simple pointed arches, and their windows have good traceries of the late thirteenth century. “The apse has a semi-dome and is lighted by three round-headed windows, five inches wide in the clear, and has a corbel-table under the eaves outside.”
The octagonal campanile dates from the fifteenth century, to which period belongs the western gallery. There is a good deal of pointed work in the church, which is gloomy and religious. The high altar, dating from about 1400, has a reredos which is highly praised by some critics.
Lerida was the Salamanca of Aragon. Her university, founded in 1300 by Jaime II., numbered the profligate Calixtus III. among its professors, and Vicente Ferrer—the “angel of the judgment”—among its alumni. Ford reminds us that Horace speaks of the place as a seat of learning in Roman times, to which the troublesome youths of the capital were banished. The town, like its Castilian prototype, has been famed for arms as well as learning. It sustained a severe siege from Felipe IV. himself in 1640, and withstood the assaults of the great Condé in 1640. It owned the loss of its university to its devotion to the Archduke Charles in the War of Succession, and (more directly) to the defeat sustained close by, by the Bourbon king. At the same time the military authorities made the clergy give up their cathedral.
Probably none of the ancient edifices of Lerida will interest you as much as the market-place, surrounded by quaint old houses; entering, you find the whole house is a great wine-press, the grapes, trodden on the ground floor, pouring their juice into the cellars below.
Higher up the Segre is the historic town of Balaguer, the Bargusia of Livy, and the capital of the ancient county of Urgel. The counts had their residence in the “Beautiful Castle” (“Castillo hermoso”) which overlooked the town and has now totally disappeared. There are a few ruins of the once famous priory of SantoDomingo. The site of the castle is occupied by the church of Santa Maria, built in 1351. It is a dignified, simple edifice, of a single nave with lateral chapels. The Trappist monastery of Bellpuig de las Avellanas a little way out of the town is another and better preserved monument of the piety of the old Counts of Urgel whose line expired with Jaime el Desdichado at the beginning of the fifteenth century.
Still going northward, and without crossing the limits of the old country, we reach the venerable town of Agramunt, notable for its late Romanesque church with a portal similar to the Puerta dels Fillols at Lerida. We reach at last Seo de Urgel at the very foot of the Pyrenees. As a see, the place is of immemorial antiquity. Its bishops (who are co-sovereigns with France of the Republic of Andorra) attained the zenith of their power and splendour in the eleventh century. The town has figured in every border war and was the seat of the audacious reactionary caucus which called itself a regency and declared Ferdinand VII. unfit to govern while he was obedient to the constitution.
The actual cathedral was consecrated by Bishop Eribal in 1040, but its construction lasted well on into the next century. It resembles a church of southern France more than one of Cataluña. The façade is divided vertically by two buttresses,horizontally by string courses into three stages, the lowest of which is pierced by the simple round arched west porch, the middle by three round-headed windows, the highest forming a sort of attic, by a round-headed window and tworosaces. The interior is divided into a nave and aisles with transept and lantern. The treasury is interesting for its collection of documents dating back to the time of the Carlovingian kings.
Returning from Lerida to Barcelona we pass the castle of Bellpuig, the seat of the great family of Anglesola—a massive fortress of red stone, restored in the sixteenth century. Its magnificent staircase still gives one some idea of the pomp and state of its former lords. The village extends from the castle to the church—a situation which inspired the erudite topographer of this country (Piferrer) with reflections that remind one of Don Quixote’s address to the goatherds. The church contains the tomb of Don Ramon de Cordova, one of the ablest lieutenants of Gonzalo de Cordova. His effigy, armed and holding his helmet, reclines in a sleeping posture on an urn adorned with reliefs of marine gods and monsters and upheld on the backs of sirens, whose hands are webbed; the sepulchral arch is formed by six Ionic columns, against which lean figures expressive of mourning; over the tomb is a relief of the Entombment. In niches on each side ofthe arch are two life-size figures emblematic of Victory; above them, two figures leaning forth from medallions appear to extend laurels toward the hero. The plinth and cornice of this superb tomb are adorned with reliefs illustrating the victories and achievements of the deceased, who was as distinguished as an admiral as a general. His body remains in the urn practically incorrupt. The tomb is the work of Juan Nolano.
This work has been brought here from the ruined Franciscan friary, founded a few miles from Bellpuig by the knight in the year 1507. The cloister is fairly well preserved. The two lower galleries—a third has been added since the foundation—are in debased Gothic style. The second gallery is formed by eleven rectangular columns, like those of the Lonja at Valencia, with four bands of moulding wreathed round each and gathered in at the capitals. The convent church is also of interest and is connected with the cloister by a fine staircase.
From Bellpuig we pass on to Cervera, to which Philip V. transferred the university from Lerida in 1717. This is the famous body which proclaimed, in the enlightened reign of Fernando VII., its horror of the fatal habit of thinking (“Lejos de nosotros a mania funesta de pensar”). Notwithstanding, it was closed in 1823, and finally suppressed or rather transferred to Barcelona in1842. This singular university was housed in a building opened in 1740, which still dominates the whole town; it is a huge tasteless structure, a rather suitable home for learned fools. Nothing seems to have been determined with regard to its ultimate destiny, and the whole town has a frustrate and somewhat hopeless air. The church of Santa Maria is not devoid of beauty and interest. One of the porches appears to be a survival of an earlier Romanesque structure, and is surmounted by a relief of St. Martin sharing his cloak with the beggar. The tombs are also worthy of note.