The history of the city as an independent State is soon told. Under Ismail and his son Al Mamûn, Toledo became the most powerful Musulman State in Spain. The lesser principalities having been disposed of, a fierce struggle for supremacy was waged between Al Mamûn and the Amir ofSeville. A desperate battle before the walls of Murcia decided the issue in favour of the Toledan, and gave Valencia into his hands. But, as is often the case with men of all ranks, Al Mamûn’s strength and wisdom were undone and rendered unavailing by his fatal trait of magnanimity.
Alfonso of Leon, dispossessed of his kingdom by his brother, threw himself upon the protection of the Amir of Tolaitola. The noble Muslim bestowed upon the fugitive prince a palace near his own, an oratory, and a garden “wherein to recreate himself”; and allowed him to establish a miniature Court for himself and his followers at Brihuega. Lands were assigned to him as a source of revenue, and he became the most intimate and honoured friend of the Amir. It is said that in return an oath was exacted of Alfonso that he would assist his host against all men, and never war upon him or his son. That some such pledge should have been asked for in return for such magnificent hospitality seems very probable. The Archbishop Don Rodrigo relates that one day Al Mamûn found himself with his most trusty counsellors in a wood from which a full view of the city could be obtained. The Moorish sovereign fell to discoursing upon the defences of the place and the best means of attacking it. These words were overheard by Alfonso, who chanced to be by, and who at once feigned sleep beneatha tree. Here he was presently discovered by the Moors, to their great dismay. Some among them asked leave of Al Mamûn to slay him. On this permission being indignantly refused, they dropped hot lead on the Leonese prince’s hand to see if he were really asleep. Alfonso did not stir, which would have convinced most people that he was feigning sleep. The Muslims, on the contrary, retired, satisfied that he had heard nothing and seen nothing.
Before returning to his kingdom, the Christian prince renewed his vows of loyalty and friendship to Al Mamûn, with whom personally, indeed, he never broke faith. The Moor’s son, Yahya, reaped the reward of the father’s generosity. A weak and incapable sovereign, addicted to luxury and despised for his devotion to superstitious practices, he was detested by his own subjects, who on one occasion drove him out of the city, to take refuge at Cuenca. His authority was restored only with the help of his natural foes, the Castilians. Alfonso, unmindful of his vow, forgetful of the dead Al Mamûn’s princely generosity, could not resist this opportunity of adding to his dominions the old capital of the Kings of Spain. For six years he laid waste the frontiers of the Amirate, and in the seventh year—carefully availing himself, no doubt, of the information unwittingly communicated by his old benefactor—invested Toledo itself.Famine accomplished what arms could not, Yahya asked for terms. They were onerous enough. They involved the cession of all the Moorish King’s dominions, except Valencia, the Muslims who elected to remain in Toledo being guaranteed the free exercise of their religion, their property, and liberty. They were to be subject to their own laws and tribunals and to retain their mosques. The terms, as remarks Quadrado, were, in fact, almost the same as those granted to the Christians by the Arabs three hundred and seventy years before. Only the Alcazar, the bridges, gates, and the garden called the Huerta del Rey, were reserved to Alfonso himself. The capitulation completed, Yahya and his court took the road to Valencia, and Alfonso VI. entered Toledo by the Bib-el-Mardom on Sunday, May 25, 1085.
“May God renew her past splendour, and inscribe once more the name of Toledo on the list of the cities of Islâm!” This was the devout aspiration of a Muslim chronicler, but in neither particular has it ever been fulfilled.
Theincorporation of the haughty city of the Visigoths with the kingdom of Castile was, when the first wave of enthusiasm had subsided, regarded with coldness and misgiving by its people. The Toledans were as tenacious as ever of their peculiar customs and privileges which they had hoped to maintain intact. Even with the powerful assistance of the Cid, whom he appointed Alcalde, Alfonso found the ordering of the affairs of his new capital a difficult and dangerous task. The population included (remarks Don Jose Quadrado) “the conquered and resigned Musulman, the Israelite ever submissive and industrious, the Mozarabe ennobled by his ancient lineage and constancy in his faith, the Castilian, proud of his conquests, the foreigner rewarded for his prowess, or attracted from remote countries by signal privileges; and this multiplicity of races and diversity of creeds demanded as many separate systems of law and administrations.” The Jews, Musulmans and foreigners continued subject to their own codes and tribunals; but while theMozarabe or native of Toledo clung to the old Fuero Juzgo or Visigothic law, inherited from his fathers, the Castilians and Leonese expected to be ruled according to the ruder, rougher code of their warrior counts and kings. Alfonso dealt with these two peoples of common race and language as with the other more widely distinct races. Each had an Alcalde of its own, subject, however, to the Alcalde Mayor named by the king. A compromise, too, was arrived at, the Castilians being subject to their own law in civil cases, and to the Mozarabe in criminal matters. On the whole, the tendency of these measures was to conciliate the Toledans. But we find evidence of jealousies between them and their conquerors or deliverers from the North for many years afterwards.
Alfonso’s honour had not gone unstained in regard to his taking the city of his old friend and benefactor, and the Moors must have been sanguine indeed if they looked forward to a scrupulous fulfilment of the pledges given them by the conqueror while he wasoutsidethe walls. The clause that entitled the Muslims to the free and exclusive use of their mosques was particularly obnoxious to the rabid ecclesiastics and crusaders who accompanied the king. With increasing irritation they compared the noble proportions of the Mohammedan mezquita with those of thehumble provisional Catholic Cathedral of Santa Maria de Alficem. While Alfonso was absent in Leon, he left the city in charge of his queen, Constancia, a Frenchwoman, and of her countryman, Bernard, now bishop, and formerly a monk of Cluny. This prelate took advantage of his sovereign’s absence to burst one night into the coveted mosque with an armed party, and having “purified” it, suspended bells in the minarets, which announced at dawn the celebration of the Christian rite. When word was brought to the King of this infamous violation of the treaty, he set out for Toledo, announcing his intention of burning the bishop alive. Moved either by that magnanimity which in the person of Al Mamûn had contributed to their downfall, or, as Spanish writers say, by a far-seeing prudence, the Moors went out in a body to meet the monarch, and besought him to forgive the highly placed thieves. Alfonso, with a show of reluctance, acquiesced in their prayer, and the Christians were most undeservedly confirmed in the possession of a church they had no hand in creating. The Alfaqui, or headman of the Muslims, was munificently rewarded for his generosity, his statue being placed in the Capilla Mayor of the new cathedral, which was solemnly consecrated in 1087. No nation has shown a very nice sense of honesty in respect of church property, yet it needs no subtle intelligenceto perceive that a church is as much the property of the particular sect for whose special use it was designed by members of that sect, as any private house is of its private owner.
The sturdy Toledans were attached, not only to their laws and customs, but (which was of more importance in those days) to their own Gothic or Mozarabic ritual. This differs in what are considered important particulars from the Roman. The host is divided into nine parts, representing the Incarnation, Epiphany, Circumcision, Passion, Death, Resurrection, Ascension, and Eternal Kingdom of Christ. Of these fragments, seven are arranged to form a cross. Because it is not Roman, English writers are fond of extolling the beauty and simplicity of this liturgy. It was a stumbling-block to Queen Constance and the zealous French bishop, who were anxious to reduce all things in Spain to Catholic uniformity. The King ordered the question to be decided by ordeal of single combat. The Mozarabic champion remained the victor. The bishop then demanded the ordeal of fire. The two missals were accordingly thrown into a great blazing pile, and the local favourite, having probably been saturated with some incombustible preparation, remained unconsumed. Another version has it that neither book was injured by the flames. Alfonso, after his fashion, clinchedthe controversy by ordering the Mozarabic ritual to be confined to the two parish churches allotted to the Christians by their Moorish rulers, whilst everywhere else Mass was to be celebrated according to the Roman office.
Alfonso VI. had to fight hard to keep possession of Toledo. The Almoravide invasion had burst like a tidal wave over Southern Spain. Everywhere the Musulmans were recovering their spirits and their strength. The Castilian king fled, wounded, from the bloody field of Zalaca, with only five hundred followers, leaving behind him twenty thousand slain. Toledo could have had no pleasant associations for its latest conqueror. Here died three of hissixwives—Constancia of Burgundy, Isabel of France, and Zayda of Seville. At Ucles was slain his only son, while yet a mere child. “Where is your prince?” asked the unhappy father of the warriors escaped from the rout. “Where is the light of my eyes and the staff of my age?” All were silent. “He is dead and you live!” bitterly exclaimed the king. “Yes,” replied Alvar Fañez sternly, “we live to save the throne, the country, and the lands acquired with our blood and sweat.” But the Alcazar re-echoed to the mournful plaint, “Sancho! Sancho, my son!” till Alfonso VI. passed away in July 1109. The stones of which the church altars were built hadmiraculously distilled tears in token of his approaching death. Before a year had passed the Vega was blackened by the advancing hordes of Islam. The Castle of Azeca, the monastery of San Servando, fell into their hands; but the City of the Goths, thanks to the leadership of Archbishop Bernard and of Alvar Fañez, hurled back the hosts of Ali and was held fast for Spain.
The accession of Alfonso VII. el Batallador brought brighter days to his capital, but it was assailed during the twelfth century with a succession of calamities that might have broken down the patience of Job. The year 1113 was marked by an earthquake and disastrous overflowing of the Tagus; 1116, by a fire on a large scale; in 1117, the price of wheat rose, to fourteen soldos the bushel; in 1168, the Tagus was again in flood; again in 1181 and 1200; between 1187 and 1200, all the grocery stores were burnt (how or why, we are not told), the Tagus was frozen over in 1191, and there was a famine the following year. Eclipses of the sun were of the commonest occurrence: we hear of them in 1114, 1162, 1177, 1191, and 1207. We can easily imagine the Mohammedan denizens shaking their heads and ascribing these phenomena, especially the last, to the change of government, and extolling the good old times of Al Mamûn when earth, river, and sun kept their places and behaved according to rule.
Yet Toledo flourished, and her citizens were never more in their element than in the spring of the year 1212, when their town became the rallying-point and base of the great crusading army, destined to achieve the crowning mercy of the Navas de Tolosa. The dominant personality of that time was the Archbishop Rodrigo Jimenez de Rada. A writer of history, a valiant soldier, a sagacious statesman, princely in his magnificence, and angelic in his charity, he was a tower of strength in Spain, and especially for Toledo, in the dreadful years of famine and brigandage that followed the victory over the Moor. His name will be for ever remembered as practically the founder of the great cathedral which is the city’s crowning glory and title to fame.
The century of floods, earthquakes, and eclipses passed away, and found Toledo a hotbed of civil strife and internecine discord. As in Italian cities at the same time, rival families and factions fought in the streets, turned their houses into fortresses, and set the civic authorities at defiance. The hidalgos of Toledo would hurry home from warring with the infidel to plunge their swords into the bosoms of their fellow townsmen. Laras and Castros waged pitched battles for the possession of the capital of Castile. At last the royal power asserted itself, and with terrible effect. We read that “the King Ferdinand came to Toledo, andhanged many men and boiled others alive in cauldrons. Era MCCLXII. (1224).” This boiler of his fellow men is known asSaintFerdinand. His father, Alfonso IX. of Leon, is also mentioned as having broiled his rebellious subjects, and flayed others alive. But such performances are not considered by a certain class of writers even now to argue any real depravity of character.
The sainted king’s severity on another occasion is more creditable to him. On his entry into the town, two young women threw themselves at his feet and implored vengeance on their betrayer, Fernandez Gonzalo—the Alcalde himself. The high rank of the offender did not save him from instant decapitation, and his head was within an hour gazing down on the scene of his amours from the Puerta del Sol. Whether the betrayed damsels or any one else were benefited by these drastic measures, the panegyrists of the righteous king forgot to tell us.
Still it was an age when strong measures were called for; and recognising this, the citizens themselves instituted the famous Santa Hermandad or Holy Brotherhood for the maintenance of public order and suppression of brigandage. The organisation received the royal sanction, and was endowed with many privileges. It supplied the place of a regular police force for all Castile for at least three centuries, and readers will rememberthe frequent references to it in the pages of “Don Quixote.”
Toledo had not yet become a capital in the sense of being the permanent residence of the sovereign. Saint Ferdinand and his immediate predecessors and successors were essentially soldiers. Their Court was the camp, and in the unremitting war of reconquest it was necessarily transferred from place to place, from one confine of the ever-expanding kingdom to the other. When at Toledo the king resided at the Alcazar—which in Moorish days had been a fortress constructed oftapia(a species of concrete), and which was fortified with masonry by Alfonso VI. The building was enlarged and embellished, and made more suitable for a royal residence by Sancho el Bravo (1284-1295). But the state of affairs in what may be termed the Epoch of the Reconquest (1085-1252), was obviously not favourable to the development of the building arts. Toledo possesses few memorials of these days, for such edifices as may have been founded at or before that time have undergone such transformations as to render them practically the products of later ages. Such supplies and energies as were not absorbed by the all-important business of war were naturally diverted to the building of the cathedral, which was not, as we shall see, completed for another two centuries.
Mediæval history concerns itself almost exclusively with kings and princes, battles and treaties. Of the life of the people in Spain, as elsewhere, we hear very little. From stray references in the records we glean the information that the streets of Toledo were filthy and unpaved, and frequently encumbered with the carcases of beasts. Over the gates the heads of malefactors were ever rotting, poisoning the already vitiated air. We have concise details, too, of no particular interest, as to the municipal constitution of the city. Beyond this meagre information, we know something of the history of Toledo only so far as it was also the history of Spain.
Pedro I., the Cruel (1350-1368), had no liking for the gloomy, turbulent town, and during his reign Seville might have been called the seat of government. However much he may have endeared himself to the Andalusians, the ferocious king was no favourite with the Toledans. When the ill-used queen, Blanche of Bourbon, escaped from her prison in the Alcazar and claimed the right of sanctuary in the cathedral, the city rose in her behalf, and a thousand native blades sprung from their scabbards to protect her. An alliance was concluded with Talavera and Cuenca, and the gates opened to Don Enrique of Trastamara, the king’s half-brother. It is said that Pedro’s faction held the bridge of San Martin, expectingthe rebel prince to enter that way, while his supporters introduced his troops into the town by the opposite bridge of Alcantara. The Trastamara partisans attacked the Jewish quarter, the Israelites being especial favourites of Don Pedro, and a frightful massacre ensued. Soon the king’s party gained the upper hand, and the unfortunate Blanche was removed from the city, wherein she had found such staunch friends, to the castle of Sigüenza.
This is not the first time we read of a massacre of Jews at Toledo. Yet the town was for many centuries one of the strongholds of Jewry in Europe, and a centre of Hebrew culture and activity. The story of the Jews of Toledo is, in fact, one of the most interesting chapters in the history of the city and of Spain.
Jews were settled in the Peninsula at a remote period. The author of “The Moorish Empire in Europe” (S. P. Scott) thinks their arrival in that country “antedated the Christian Era by at least a thousand years.” As we know, legend actually ascribes the foundation of Toledo to the race. This may, we think, be due to a confusion of the Israelites with Phœnician settlers. At the time of Christ, the Jews of Spain were very numerous and opulent. Another legend tells how their chief men addressed a letter to the Sanhedrim at Jerusalem, protesting against theCrucifixion. A document—altogether spurious, it need hardly be said—has been produced in support of this story. After the destruction of Jerusalem by Titus, there seems to have been a large influx of Hebrew refugees into Spain. So long as the Visigoths remained Arians, they remained tolerant; but Reccared, soon after his conversion to Catholicism, levelled the severest enactments against the Israelites. He set a bad precedent. With Sisebut began the long era of persecution. His harsh edicts, forcing the Jews to choose between baptism and banishment, are still to be found in the Fuero Juzgo. Swinthila, Kindila, Recceswinth, Erwig, and Egica followed the same policy. Among the tyrannical enactments of this time is the grotesque command that the Jews of Toledo should eat pork! Under these circumstances it is not to be wondered that the Spanish Jews beheld with dawning hope the successful progress of the Mohammedans in Northern Africa. A secret intelligence was established with these Semitic conquerors of a newer faith, and thanks to the constant intercourse between the Jews of Africa and those of Spain, Musa and Tarik were fully supplied with the most minute particulars of the Visigothic State.
The period of the Khalifate was the Golden Age of Spanish Jewry. The numbers of the race,depleted by persecution, were increased by the advent of upwards of twelve thousand Yemenite Jews, invited by the Moorish conquerors. Never since the days of Solomon had the Children of Israel known such peace and prosperity. Possessed already of a remarkably high degree of culture, they communicated their knowledge to the Arabs, who showed themselves generous patrons and protectors. Nor were the new rulers of Spain slow to perceive the advantages to be derived from the subject race’s commercial enterprise and talent for affairs. Though the versatility of the Jew at this time was one of his most remarkable characteristics, it was above all as a physician that he was esteemed by Muslims and Christians alike. In this capacity he became the indispensable and most trusted companion of sovereigns and prelates, and penetrated into the very arcana of power. From Court physician to Minister the transition in those days of personal government was easy, and we find Hasdai ben Isaac Ibn Shaprut occupying both positions under Abd-ur-Rahman I.
As far as was consistent with their religious beliefs, the Jews of Toledo assimilated themselves with the conquerors. The minutes of the congregation were kept in Arabic down to the end of the thirteenth century, and that language was sedulously cultivated and almost exclusivelyemployed by the brilliant succession of Jewish theologians and humanists who made the city a centre of literary and scholastic activity.
We have it on the authority of Mr. S. P. Scott that, under the Muslim dominion, the Jews were allowed to elect a king, always a prince of the House of Judah, “who, while not openly invested with the insignia of royalty, received the homage and tribute of his subjects.” It is illustrative of the respect of the race for learning that the erudite Rabbi Moses, when recognised exposed as a slave at Cordoba, was immediately elected to this dubious royalty.
The Jews of Toledo must have viewed with unpleasant apprehensions the re-establishment of the Catholic monarchy. Yet at first it seemed they had no cause for alarm. Alfonso VI., as we know, granted to them the liberal privileges by which the Muslims also benefited. But in the charter confirming the customs of the Mozarabes (1091) it was made plain that no penalty would be exacted of a Christian for the murder of a Jew or Muslim. The result might have been foreseen. Seventeen years after, the people rose in savage fury, broke into the synagogues and butchered the rabbis in their pulpits, burnt and pillaged every Jewish house, and slaughtered the luckless objects of their animosity without mercy. But it was the people, rather than the governing classes,who manifested this violent racial prejudice. As in every other land, in spite of persecution, the Chosen People grew in wealth and abated not their industry and commercial activity. It was they who brought to the grim Gothic city the choicest products of the East; they alone who could combat the ravages of disease; they alone who could supply the needy king and nobles with the coin for which in Italy men paid as much as one hundred and twenty per cent. interest. Spain hated the Jew, but could not as yet do without him.
The rule of Alfonso VI.’s successors could not have been excessively harsh, for many Jewish families, hounded out of Southern Spain by an unusual manifestation of Mohammedan bigotry, took refuge within the walls of Toledo. Thanks to the influence of Fermosa, the Jewish mistress of Alfonso VIII., many of her race exercised important functions at the Court. But the fanatical temper of the populace attributed to the favour shown these unbelievers the disaster of Alarcos, and the beautiful favourite and her friends were murdered in the very presence of the king.
“At the beginning of the thirteenth century,” says Mr. Joseph Jacobs, B.A., in the “Jewish Encyclopædia,” “the Shushans, the Al-Fakhkhars, and the Alnaquas, were among the chief Jewish families of Toledo, Samuel Ibn Shushan being nasi [the chief of Sanhedrim] about 1204. Hisson built a synagogue which attracted the attention of Abraham ben Nathan of Lunel, who settled in Toledo before 1205. During the troubles brought upon Castile by the men of ‘Ultrapuertos’ in 1211-12, Toledo suffered a riot; and this appears to have brought the position of the Jews more closely to the attention of the authorities. In 1219 the Jewish inhabitants became more strictly subject to the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Toledo, who imposed upon every Jew over twenty years old an annual poll-tax of one-sixth of a gold mark; and any dispute about age was to be settled by a jury of six elders, who were probably supervised by the nasi, at that time Solomon ben Joseph Ibn Shushan. In the same year papal authority also interfered with the affairs of the Toledo Jews, ordering them to pay tithes on houses bought by them from Christians, ‘as otherwise the Church would be a considerable loser.’”
A significant phrase! But not only houses and land all over the country were mortgaged to the Jews, but also church plate and even the sacred vessels. Jewish usurers were said to drink out of the chalices used for the Precious Elements. The exasperation of the Christians was disregarded by Alfonso X. the Learned, who entertained a profound respect for the erudition and traditions of the Jews. A Hebrew, Don Zag Ibn Said, directedthe compilation of the famous Alfonsine Tables; and under the patronage of the monarch, Toledo became famous for its translations from the Arabic into Hebrew, Latin, and Spanish. The rabbis distinguished themselves in medicine and astronomy. While doing his utmost to draw the oppressed race within the fold of the Catholic church, the Learned King granted permission to the Jews of Toledo to erect that beautiful synagogue which, under the name of Santa Maria la Blanca, ranks to-day among the national monuments of Spain.
“The Spanish Jews,” says Mr. Scott, “by reason of the peculiarities of their situation, the hostility of their rulers—which their pecuniary resources and natural acuteness often baffled, but never entirely overcame—and their successive domination by races of different origin, faith, and language, were impressed with mental peculiarities and characteristics not to be met with in their brethren of other countries. Their religious formalism was proverbial, and the Hebrew of Toledo observed more conscientiously the precepts of the Pentateuch and Talmud than the Hebrew of Damascus or Jerusalem.” Thus we find the Jews of Toledo siding against the rationalising theories of the great Maimonides, himself a native of Cordoba, and whose tomb is a conspicuous landmark on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee.
Don Amador de los Rios reproduces an ancient record for the year 1290, stating the amount of tribute payable by the various Jewish communities of Castile. Out of a total of 2,801,345 maravedis the Israelites of the city of Toledo contributed 216,500, and those in the entire archdiocese 1,062,902 maravedis. The pomp of Catholic public worship and the wealth of the clergy are partially accounted for by these figures.
Up till then, always the most valuable (from a European point of view) and the most prosperous element of the population of Toledo, the Jews assumed yet greater prominence in the reign of Pedro I. That prince was declared by his numerous enemies to be the substituted child of a Jewess, and his Court was reviled as a Jewish Court. He showed favour to the race in many ways. His treasurer and confidential adviser was the famous Don Samuel Ha Levi. Whether or not the Jewish statesman’s administration was in the interests of Castile, it is too late in the day to say; but there can be no doubt that he was a loyal servant of his king and a devoted friend of his own people. He it was who caused to be erected Toledo’s other great synagogue, now called the Transito. He was a warm ally of the beautiful Maria de Padilla, Pedro’s gentle mistress, and for years, with consummate astuteness, defended himself against the insidious and violent attacksof his innumerable enemies. His enormous wealth—honestly or dishonestly acquired—brought about his downfall. In the very year (1360) the synagogue was completed, Samuel was seized at Seville, and, by order of the king, placed upon the rack. The haughty Hebrew is said to have died of sheer indignation. Pedro shed crocodile tears over his ill-starred Minister’s fate, and greedily confiscated his property. His fortune was found to consist of 70,000 doubloons, 4000 silver marks, twenty chests filled with treasure, and eighty Moorish slaves. The property of all Levi’s relatives was also forfeited to the Crown, and was valued at 300,000 doubloons. Pedro did not, however, withdraw his favour from the Jews as a race. It had been well for them if he had. Their loyalty to the Bluebeard King earned for them the detestation of the partisans of Enrique de Trastamara, and brought about, as we have seen, the massacre of 1355, in which 1200 Jews perished.
The new king, Enrique, took advantage of a riot said to have been excited by the arrogance of the converted Jews in 1367, and in which 1600 houses were burnt to the ground, to impose a tribute of no less than twenty thousand gold doubloons on the afflicted people.
It was possibly due to the presence of a large Israelite population that Toledo, very much againstits will, had been held for King Pedro in 1369. It was, in consequence, fiercely assailed by its own archbishop, Don Gomez Manrique, while Pedro sent an army largely composed of Saracens to its relief. The city was a prey to famine, internecine warfare, pestilence, and to every description of calamity. The killing of Pedro and the accession of Enrique were hailed as an ineffable boon by the wretched citizens. But from that hour the position of the Jews grew more and more pitiable. Their prosperity waned, and with it the prosperity of the old city in which they had so long been unwelcome guests.
Their final ruin as a community was effected mainly at the instance of St. Vicente Ferrer, the Dominican. Visiting the city in 1391 he so inflamed the devout populace with apostolic zeal that they burst into the larger of the two Juderias or Ghettos, put practically the whole of its inhabitants—including the venerable rabbis, Judah ben Asher and Israel Alnaqua—to the sword, sacked the quarter from end to end, and demolished most of the synagogues. The saintly Ferrer reappeared at Toledo twenty years later, but there were nominally no Jews left to massacre. The Hebrews that remained had been “converted.” The good friar did what he could, and induced the Toledans to confiscate the synagogue built in Alfonso X.’s reign and convert it into theChristian Church of Santa Maria la Blanca. We suggest that it should have been renamed San Vicente del Sangre.
The work of destruction was done thoroughly, and henceforward we hear little in the story of Toledo of the Children of Israel. But their names have not been altogether forgotten. Mr. Jacobs gives a long list of members of that luckless congregation, famous for their learning and science. He enumerates theologians, physicians, astronomers, grammarians, satirists, poets and astrologers. Toledo, thanks to these latter, achieved an unenviable reputation as a centre of the magic art. Indeed, this was known at one time as the Arte Toledana. “It is said” (we quote Mr. Jacobs) “that Michael Scott learned his magic from a Toledo Jew named Andreas, who translated works on magic from the Arabic.” The same writer elsewhere says: “The Spanish Jews differed but little from the Christian population with regard to customs and education. They were fond of luxury, and the women wore costly garments with long trains, also valuable jewellery; this tended to increase the hatred of the population towards them. They were quarrelsome and inclined to robbery, and often attacked and insulted one another even in their synagogues and prayer-houses, frequently inflicting wounds with the rapier or sword they were accustomed to carry.” With royal permission a Jew might have two wives.
Deprived of the more legitimate pastime of Jew-baiting, the Toledans began to turn their swords against each other and their sovereign. “Never,” remarks Gamero, “had the nobility shown itself so arrogant and rebellious as during the reign of Juan II.” Envy of that great man and powerful Minister, Don Alvaro de Luna, was mainly the cause of this. The leading families took different sides, and the streets frequently were slippery with the blood of the citizens. The Alcalde, Pero Lopez de Ayala, declared against the great Constable and held the town as an independent seigneurie against the king’s forces for five years. King Juan had deserved better things of his lieges of Toledo, for in 1431 he had entertained them on his return from his campaign in Andalusia with festivities and pageants of the gayest character. The people took part in bull fights and games in the Zocodover, while the knights andricoshombresjousted and feasted in the Vega. The Alcazar re-echoed to the music of lute and lyre, and the songs of the minstrels. But Toledo was not to be subdued with kindness. The artisan class presently revolted on the imposition of a new tax, the tumult being the occasion of the saying,Soplara il odrero, y alborozarse la Toledo(Let the ironmonger blow and Toledo will rise).Next, the cruel and miserly governor, Pedro Sarmiento, followed Ayala’s example, and demanded of the king the dismissal of the noble Constable. The royal forces were set at defiance, and a pitched battle was fought below the walls. The fortune of the day remained with the rebels, and Sarmiento was able for a time to dictate to his sovereign. He was at last crushed, but was able to carry off an enormous amount of treasure loaded on two hundred mules.
These events had produced a permanent feud between the families of Ayala and Silva, only terminated by the marriage of the heir and heiress of the respective houses. Toledo, during the first three-quarters of the fifteenth century, was a prey to incessant warfare. Sometimes the whole town would be contending against external foes for or against the king, sometimes it would be the nobles contending with the people, or the church with the nobles. Toledo, as a whole, supported its archbishop, Carrillo, when in 1465 he pronounced sentence of dethronement on Enrique IV. Three years later that unlucky monarch managed, by winning over the Ayalas to his side, to make his entry into the city. The proud chief of the family was himself obliged to flee from the town in 1471. The king was besieged in the Alcazar; the balance inclined sometimes to this party, sometimes to that. The old animosities between theAyalas and the Silvas blazed up again from time to time; and under its weak sovereign Toledo had its fill of fighting. But those brave days were drawing to a close, and in 1474, came one before whom even Toledans had to bend the knee and whom, recognising in her a stronger spirit, they afterwards delighted to honour. The accession of Isabel the Catholic on the death of Enrique IV., and to the exclusion of the rightful heiress, Juana, calumniously nicknamed La Beltraneja, marks the beginning of a new era in the history of Spain, and therefore of Toledo.
Theearliest specimens of post-Moorish architecture in Toledo partake more or less of the character of fortifications. For many years, as we have seen, after the Reconquest the Christians’ hold upon the city was precarious, and the first efforts of the Castilian kings was naturally towards strengthening its defences. The history of the walls of Toledo is obscure and confused; but it seems certain that a wall has always extended within historic times across the northern side of the loop formed by the river. The Conqueror Alfonso VI. strengthened and added to this defence by the erection of the newer or outer wall, inclosing the suburb or Arrabal del Antequeruela. He also appears to have restored the inner or Moorish wall, and has left traces on the magnificent Puerta del Sol, a Moorish work which must have been quite new in his day. Indeed, it may possibly have been built by Moorish masons after the Reconquest. It is a noble and impressive portal to the grand old city, and most powerfully impresses the beholder. Quadrado willhave it that so dignified a monument can have been the work only of a ruling race, in the days of its liberty and glory; it could not have been the mere afterglow of the ascendency and taste of a nation now subjugated. We may, however, be permitted to doubt whether the political decadence of a people becomesinstantlymanifested in its artistic life. The gateway forms a high tower with two flanking turrets, one square and abutting on the wall, the other rounded and finishing off theenceinte. The portal is composed of a succession of four arches, all being of the horseshoe shape, though the outer arches are more pointed than the inner ones. Above the outermost arch is a double row of arcades of brickwork, the arches intersecting. Over the second arch is a circular medallion in relief, representing the Virgin offering the chasuble to St. Ildefonsus. Another relief in marble is supposed to represent the summary punishment of Fernan Gonzalez by St. Ferdinand, for the seduction of two young women. The battlements are of a type common enough in Spanish Christian architecture, but which Mr. Street thinks was derived originally from the Moors. Another writer, Mr. O’Shea, remarks: “This gate with its warm orange tints, that contrast so admirably with the lapis-lazuli azure of the cloudless sky, its battlement fringing the top, and opening vistasof most novel aspect, is a treasure for an artist.” The exceeding quaintness and majesty of this gateway have moved many writers to express themselves almost too rapturously. Toledo’s other gates—the Puerta Nueva de Visagra and the Puerta del Cambrón—date from a much later period.
The rude, dismantled pile of the Castle of San Servando, which crowns the height opposite to the Bridge of Alcantara, marks the site of a monastery, erected by Alfonso VI. in gratitude for his escape from the rout of Sacralias (1086). It was peopled by Benedictines from Sahagun and Cluny. These holy men soon found by the defensive works with which their new home was provided that their duties would not be entirely of a clerical description. Yusuf-ben-Tashfin, the Almoravide leader, almost destroyed the building during his abortive siege of Toledo, and Alfonso subsequently gave the establishment the aspect and features of a fortress. As such it bore the brunt of the repeated Saracen onslaughts in the first half of the twelfth century. It was abandoned in consequence by the monks, and was bestowed by Alfonso VIII. on the Knights Templars. It continued in their possession till the suppression of the Order in 1312. It seems to have fallen into ruins soon after, and was rebuilt about 1386, on the initiative of the great archbishop, Tenorio.It is not a very interesting monument. It is built of masonry, with facings of red brick here and there. Three of its four sides are standing, and the same number of towers. These bear a resemblance to the outer or circular tower of the Puerta del Sol. The windows and arches exhibit Moorish, or rather Mudejar, influence. The castle in its day must have been a fine specimen of the mediæval stronghold. To-day its ruin is complete. It serves as a home to the owl and the bat, and the very ghosts of monks and templars seem to have deserted it as uninhabitable.
The castle is referred to by Calderon and other writers, and seems at one time to have been a favourite spot for duels.
The increased importance of Toledo as the capital of Castile necessitated the improvement of its communications with the outside world. The Bridge of Alcantara was, at the time of the Reconquest, the only permanent traject across the Tagus, and the bridge of boats on the western side of the town having been swept away, Alfonso X. (1252-1289) decreed the construction of a stone bridge now known as the Puente de San Martin. It was built of five arches and lasted till the reign of Pedro I., when it was blown up by that king’s partisans to obstruct the entry of Enrique de Trastamara. It continued in a practically demolished condition for twenty years,when the great archbishop, Pedro Tenorio, determined to restore the missing arches at his own expense. It is said that the architect entrusted with the work found, to his dismay, the night before the day fixed for the opening, that, owing to some oversight in his calculations, the whole fabric would collapse on the removal of the scaffolding. He made known the cause of his anxiety to his wife; and she rose at dead of night, and setting fire to the whole structure preserved her husband’s reputation and, not impossibly, his life. The reconstructed bridge was, of course, without fault or flaw. A final reconstruction took place in 1690. On the town side, the Puente de San Martin is defended by two square towers. Above the archway are two inscriptions relating to the works executed by order of Charles II. The further extremity of the bridge is defended by another square battlemented tower with a horseshoe arch. Its two bridges are among the most picturesque features of Toledo.
With the obvious exception of the cathedral, the most interesting monuments of what we may term the middle age of Toledo are the two synagogues, now styled Santa Maria la Blanca and El Transito. The Jews, as we have seen, everywhere loom large in the annals of Toledo.
The first-named of these temples derives itsactual name from a tradition that a Christian church occupied the site in Visigothic times, to account for the dedication of which a legend is repeated similar to that of Santa Maria ad Nives at Rome. It is situated on what was once the Jewry or Ghetto, on the western side of the city, not far from the Puente de San Martin. Its foundation—as a synagogue—is variously ascribed to the period of the Reconquest, to the last days of the Moorish dominion, and to the latter period of the Khalifate. The first date seems the most probable. It continued to be used for the Jewish worship till 1405, when, as has been already told, it was seized and converted into a Catholic church. It has long since become a merely secular monument. The exterior, approached through the most miserable and sordid neighbourhood, is very far from reflecting the splendour the Jews enjoyed at its foundation. The façade, mean and dilapidated like the rest of the exterior, is probably of much more recent construction also. Within, a strange, fantastic impression is created. The phrase, “How are the mighty fallen!” involuntarily rises to the lips as one contemplates the traces of grandeur and elegance subsisting amid ruin and decay. The temple is symbolical of the race: exotic, reminiscent of a lost glory, depressed, oppressed. There is, however, no trace or suggestion of the primitive Hebrew architectural styleabout the building. The traditions of Jerusalem were either unknown to, or had been forgotten by, those who reared these walls—likely enough Moors, whose skill was always at the disposal of Christian and Jew. In fact, the synagogue may be taken as a fine example of late Saracenic work. The plan consists of a nave with two aisles on each side. The nave was prolonged in the seventeenth century so as to form a chancel. The building is 81 feet long by 63 feet wide. The nave reaches to a height of 60 feet, and is 15 feet broad, while the aisles measure only 12 feet and rise from 40 to 50 feet high. The nave and aisles are separated by four rows of octagonal columns, from which spring bold horseshoe arches of the true Moorish type. The capitals are of stucco and elaborately designed with floral devices, in which the fir-cone is conspicuous; there is a vague suggestion of Byzantine influence. Mr. Street imagines them to be much later than the original capitals which they overlay. “All the Moorish decorative work seems to have been executed in the same way in plaster. This was of very fine quality, and was evidently cut and carved as if it had been stone, and seldom, if ever, I think, stamped or moulded, according to the mistaken practice of the present day. The consequence is that there is endless variety of design everywhere and—wherever it was desired—any amount ofundercutting. The spandrels above the arches are filled in with arabesque patterns, and there is a cusped wall arcade below the roof.” All this stucco work appears to date from about the time of Alfonso X., or perhaps from a later restoration. Above the nave is an exquisite frieze in low relief, formed of lines interlacing and crossing each other. The roof is of pine-wood, andnotof Lebanon cedar, as at one time alleged. Mr. Street thinks “the pavement is very good, but must be about the date of the conversion of the synagogue into a church. It is divided into compartments by border tiles laid down the length of the church on either side of the columns. The spaces between them are filled in with a rich diaper of encaustic and plain red tiles, whilst the general area between these richer bands is paved with large red, relieved by an occasional encaustic, tiles. The latter have patterns in white, dark blue, and yellow, and in all cases they are remarkable for the beautiful inequality of the colours of the surface of the design. Both colour and material are in themselves better than the work of our tile manufacturers of the present day and illustrate very well the difference between hand-work and machinework.” The Catholics added three altars in the plateresque style, which, it is unnecessary to say, do not harmonise with the rest of the edifice. One of the retablos is attributed to Berruguete.
Comparing this old Jewish meeting-place with the other and later synagogue, Miss Hannah Lynch remarks: “As a religious temple, as the expression of solemn worship rooted in the strange and mysterious East, the former is by far the more imposing, the more earnest and harmonious. Prayer in theTransitoseems a matter of graceful and artistic dilettanteism; here it appears a great racial cry of the soul.”
The later vicissitudes of this synagogue are curious. About the middle of the sixteenth century it was converted by Cardinal Siliceo into an asylum for the professional frail ones of Toledo; but about half a century later the establishment ceased to exist—whether because there was no more frailty in Toledo or no more repentance, we are not told. Subsequently it was turned into a barracks, and then (O’Shea says) into a dancing-hall.
The Transito (so called after the Transit of the Blessed Virgin,i.e., the Assumption) is situated in the same quarter. We have already told the story of its foundation by Samuel Ha Levi, the powerful treasurer of Pedro I. Upon the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492, it was handed over to the Order of Calatrava, who dedicated it to St. Benedict (San Benito). This synagogue is also purely Moorish in style, but of the later or Granadan period. Its plan differs radically from that of Santa Maria la Blanca. It constitutes aparallelogram, undivided into naves and aisles, 76 feet by 31 feet, and 44 feet high. The effect is simple and graceful. The side walls are quite plain up to the height of about twenty feet, where a broad frieze of stucco runs round the building, with floral and star pattern designs, and bordered by inscriptions in Hebrew. Above this is an arcade with double shafts, and extremely rich capitals. The arches are of the horseshoe form, cusped into seven points. Eight of the arches contain lattice-work of the most beautiful design. Indeed, the whole of the arcading is rich and graceful beyond all praise. The western wall, where was formerly the Rabbinical chair, and is now the altar, is profusely decorated with patterns, inscriptions, and coats of arms, down to within seven feet of the floor. In the opposite wall windows have been pierced, breaking into the frieze. The roof is of cedar, and a fine specimen ofartesonadowork. Across it run tie-beams, superfluous in this case, but of which the Moorish builders were fond. The rafters slope down equally to a deep cornice, which is carried right across the angles, “so as to give polygonal ends to the roof.”
On either side of the altar are long Hebrew inscriptions now illegible, and the precise meaning of which has been a subject of fierce and perpetual controversy. The text on the Epistleside may be translated: “The mercies which God hath shown us, raising up amongst us judges and princes to deliver us from our enemies and oppressors.... And we of this land have built this house with a strong and mighty arm. The day that it was built was great and delightful for the Jews, who, attracted by the fame of these things, came from the ends of the earth to see ... if a ruler should be given us who should be as a tower of strength ... to govern our commonwealth.... And there was raised up to help us, Samuel [Levi,] and God was with him and with us, and who found for us grace and mercy. He was a man of peace, powerful among all the people, and a great builder. These things were accomplished in the reign of the King Don Pedro; may God be his helper, enlarge his dominions, prosper him and succour him, and place his seat over all princes. May God be with him and all his house, and may every man be humbled before him ... and let those who hear his name rejoice to hear it in all the Kingdoms, and let it be manifest that he has been unto Israel a defender and a shield.” The inscription on the Gospel side proclaims the Rabbi Myir Abdali as the architect and extols his pre-eminent virtues, and pathetically celebrates the return of good and prosperous times—times not destined to last for the luckless race!
In the neighbourhood of the synagogue exists the skeleton of the palace built by the great Jewish treasurer. It afterwards passed into the hands of the Marquises of Villena, and is associated with Don Enrique de Aragon, uncle of Juan II., a very interesting personality. He was a man of vast learning, and was, probably in consequence, reputed to be a magician and in league with the Evil One. Indeed, his magnificent library, including his own writings, was, in after years, burnt by order of the Inquisition. Beneath the mansion are still to be found various subterranean chambers, which popular superstition declares to have been the scene of Don Enrique’s conferences with Satan and his satellites. This necromancer was indeed Marquis of Villena, but it is by no means certain that he inhabited this house, which afterwards became the property of another family (the Pachecos), on whom the title was conferred by Enrique IV. The palace was deliberately burnt by its owner, the Duque de Escalona, in the reign of Charles V., it having been contaminated, as he thought, by the temporary residence within its walls of the Constable de Bourbon, then in arms against his own country. The Castilian grandee’s sense of honour was not a mere pose. The building is now the property of the Marquis de la Vega, who has tastefully restored it. It receives additional interest fromits having been, as is now believed, the home of El Greco.
Two ruinous structures are pointed out as the palaces of Don Pedro and of Enrique de Trastamara respectively. The latter probably belonged to one of the Counts of Trastamara, not to the king who bore that title. It is in the Moorish style, with horseshoe arches, friezes, andajimeces. The so-called palace of Don Pedro is of the same class of architecture, but has much less to show—a horseshoe arch, a dado, and an almost illegible Arabic inscription which reads, “Lasting glory and perpetual prosperity to the master of this house.”
Better examples of the Mudejar (or late Moorish) style are the Casa del Mesa and the Taller del Moro. The former is situated close to the church of San Román, and was built soon after the Reconquest by that prominent Toledan, Esteban Illán. The saloon is one of the very best examples of this style of architecture. It is 60 feet long by 22 feet wide, and 36 feet high. The artesonado ceiling is thus described by Street: “The patterns are formed by ribs (square in section) of dark wood with a white line along the centre of the soffit of each. The sides of the ribs are painted red, and the recessed panels have lines of white beads painted at their edges, and in the centre an arabesque on a dark blue ground. Thecolours are so arranged as to mark out as distinctly as possible the squares and patterns into which it is divided, and the sinking of some panels below the others allows the same pattern to be used for borders and grounds with very varied effect. The reds are rather crimson in tone, and the blues very dark.” The entrance—of a slightly horseshoe pattern—is framed in exquisite and luxuriant traceries. So also is the oppositeajimezwindow, but here the designs show Gothic influence. A high dado ofazulejosand a very deep cornice and frieze of delicate workmanship complete the decoration of this very beautiful hall.
The Taller del Moro is (quite without foundation) said to occupy the site of the massacre of theNoche Toledana. It was so called because it was used as a workshop during the building of the cathedral. There is a conflict of opinion as to its age, but it probably dates from about the time of the Reconquest. The Arabic inscriptions, however, imply that it was intended for the habitation of a Moor, the Latin texts being doubtlessly added by later owners. The Taller consists of a large hall, 54 feet long by 23 feet wide, and of two adjacent smaller apartments. It exhibits the artesonado ceiling, the delicate stucco-work and friezes with star-like and floral designs we are led to expect in specimens of Mudejar architecture. Street doubts if the stucco-work dates further back than 1350. The portal is in good Gothic style, and was added by Cardinal Mendoza.
As in all other Spanish cities, after their reacquisition by the Christians, in Toledo, for many, many years, Moorish architects and masons continued to be employed even in the construction of sacred edifices. This accounts for the mixed Christian and Saracenic style of several of the churches, even where these had not originally been mosques. The interesting church of San Román had been a Mohammedan temple remodelled to the requirements of Christian worship, while the tower or steeple is a Mudejar work added by Esteban Illán, and (to quote Mr. Street), “the finest example of its class to be seen here.” The steeple is of rough stone and brick, of a warm brown tone, and quite plain for more than half its height. The upper stages are pierced with windows which exhibit a very ungraceful trefoiled variation of the horseshoe arch—then fast dying out. Notwithstanding, the steeple has a noble and rugged appearance, like most things Toledan. The church itself has been so often restored, that it is hard to assign it to any one epoch. The Capilla Mayor is of the sixteenth century, and of the plateresque style. One of the altars has a front of black stone, carved at the edges in imitation of an altar-cloth with embroidery and lace.Here and there traces may be detected of the original mosque. The steeples of the churches of Santa Magdalena, Santo Tomé, San Pedro Martir, San Miguel, Santa Leocadia, and La Concepcion, resemble that of San Román, but differ greatly in size.
The minor churches of Toledo are not specially interesting. Without the walls, however, is one with noteworthy characteristics. The little “basilica” of the Cristo de la Vega occupies the site of the famous church of St. Leocadia, built by the Visigothic King, Sisebuth, in the seventh century, to mark the place of the virgin saint’s martyrdom. Several of the great councils were held here. The story is told that the saint appeared in person here to St. Ildefonso, in the presence of King Recceswinth, and having expressed her satisfaction at the theologian’s masterly defence of the virginity of the Blessed Virgin, allowed him, with the royal dagger, to cut off a piece of her veil as a souvenir of her visit. This event naturally raised the “basilica” in the estimation of the devout. It was demolished by the Moors, and restored in 1162. It underwent many restorations and was finally ruined by the French during the War of Independence. The present edifice represents little more than the apse of the chapel of the Cristo de la Vega. There was a miraculous crucifix, attached to whichis a particularly silly legend. Two lovers had plighted their troth before the image, and the man afterwards denied the promise. The girl adjured the Christ to bear witness to the truth of her statement, and the figure obligingly extended a wooden arm while a voice from on high proclaimed, “I testify.” Another version has it that the figure testified in favour of a Christian who (mirabile dictu) had lent money to a Jew; and yet another, that it expressed approbation of the magnanimity of a cavalier who had pardoned his enemy under extraordinary circumstances. Whatever it may have done, the crucifix has long since disappeared. An Arabic inscription deduces that Mohammed ben Rahman, first King of Toledo, was buried here,A.D.743. As there was no king in the city of that year, and as the first independent sovereign was otherwise named, the inscription must be apocryphal or else the word “king” must signify in the original merelyValior governor.
A legend, better known and rather less silly than that of the Cristo de la Vega, deals with the love affairs of an imaginary Moorish princess, called Galiana “la mora mas celebrada de toda la moreria,” the daughter of an equally mythical king, called Galafre.Heis linked up with history by some writers alleging him to have been the nephew of the wicked Count Julian, Galiana wasthe apple of her parent’s eye, and for her delectation he built a palace abounding in all conceivable delights. The young lady had, in some way, compromised herself with a gigantic Moor, Bradamante by name; and to rid her of this truculent wooer, no less a personage than Charlemagne appeared on the scene. All, of course, ended happily (except for Bradamante) by the conversion of the lovely princess and her marriage to the gallant Frank. In the Puerta del Rey, outside the town, may still be seen a building dilapidated, let out in tenements, which is pointed out as the Palace of Galiana. The place was a mansion of the great Guzman family and exhibits traces of fine Moorish work—horseshoe arches, twin-windows, a defaced inscription or two, some tiling, and arabesques—enough, in short, to conjure up a splendid Moorish palace, which, however, need not have antedated the Reconquest.
The building is the property of H.I.M. the Empress Eugénie, and it is somewhat to be regretted that her attention has not been directed to its present condition and to the chance here presented of retarding the decay of a valuable monument of antiquity.
Transcendingin importance all the other monuments of Toledo and, indeed, of Castile, is the Cathedral—one of the noblest specimens of Gothic architecture the world affords. The metropolitan church of Spain, it is sumptuous without gaudiness, austere without gloominess, admirably interpreting the spirit of Spanish Catholicism before it withered under the chilling influence of Philip II. and the Inquisition. The Cathedral of Toledo does not impress the foreigner as typically national. Indeed it corresponds no longer to the temper of the nation. And it was raised as a protest against those Moorish influences which have passed into the life and art of Spain, and without which nothing can be taken as representatively Spanish.
The Cathedral of Toledo, then, is Gothic, and may be said to embody the ideals of old Spain—of the young fighting nation that looked forward, not backward. Splendid as the Mosque seized by Archbishop Bernard and converted to Christian uses may have been, it was the work of the infidel. In 1227 King Ferdinand III. and theArchbishop Don Rodrigo de Rada were able at last to give effect to a determination arrived at some years before; and on August 14 the first stone of a new temple, which should never have been contaminated by Muslim rites, was laid with solemn ceremony. The name of the architect continues to be a matter of controversy. An epitaph in the sacristy of the Capilla de los Doctores affords some clue to his identity. It runs as follows: