“Within a few days pieces of valuable gold and silver work of an unknown period began to be seen in the Toledo silversmiths’ shops, and a goldsmith and dealer in stones and gems in the town, who had his house and workshop in a beautiful garden by the Tagus, near the Sword Factory, and who was distinguished among his fellows by his taste for archæology, had the patience to acquire one by one, and to match together the different pieces under observation; after many combinations and rectifications, leaving out some pieces, and, with consummate art, supplying others that were missing, he at last formed, or rather restored, several crowns, among them one very large and valuable, which, by the hangings, was found to be the crown of King Recesvinto (649-672).
“With the same secrecy that the discoverers of the treasure had observed, Navarro (for this was the name of the dealer in stones and gems) proceeded with the difficult task of restoring to their original shape those inestimable insignia of Visigothic Royalty. He took them to France, and they were already in a case in the Cluny Museum when Spain heard of the discovery and extraction of the crowns of Guarrazar.
“But the treasure, taken in 1858 from Guarrazar to Guadamar was not exhausted. About May, 1861, a villager of Guadamar, Domingo de la Cruz, who had found in the same Guarrazar cemetery, but in a different hole to the one already explored, other crowns and objects used for worship, presented himself at Aranjuez, where Queen Isabel was at the time. This man, after many ambiguous and roundabout proposals, having ascertained that no harm would come to him from the revelation he was about to make, and, above all, stimulated by the promises which, relying on the generosity of the Queen, the Intendant Don Antonio Flores cleverly let fall in the conversation, said he was the possessor of these treasures. The crafty rustic had them with him, but at the moment he did not say so, and only showed them when Flores, having obtained the consent of her Majesty, formally offered him, in the Queen’s name, a life-pension [4,000 reals a year], which from that day was religiously paid to him.”
The Armoury and the Cluny Museum probably contain only a half of the treasure of Guarrazar. As we have seen, much of it was broken up and melted down by the goldsmiths of Toledo. It is said that it comprised a beautiful golden dove, which came into the possession of a jeweller, who had so many qualms of conscience concerning it, that he at last took the drastic course of throwing it into the Tagus. That rapid stream must have received a good deal of Visigothic treasure since it first flowed under the arches of Toledo.
The crowns preserved at Madrid and the Cluny are not the official insignia of royalty, but offerings at the shrine. This is proved by the inscriptions on them, and by the fringe of pendants, which could not possibly have dangled over the royal countenance. The crown of King Suintila (numbered N1 in the catalogue), who reigned from 621 to 631, is formed by two semi-circles of double gold plate, joined by hinges, the resulting hoop being 0.220 in diameter, and 0.060 in height. The inside plate is plain. The outer hoop is encircled by three bands in relief, two being set with pearls and sapphires, and the middle and wider one designed with openwork rosettes, enriched with settings of the same stones. In its original state the crown had, hanging from its lower edge, a cross and twenty-two letters, making up the inscription, SVINTHILANVS REX OFFERET. All and each of the letters were actual jewels set in a vitreous substance, like enamel sockets, attached to which are brilliants, pearls, and pear-shaped sapphires hanging from each other in the order mentioned. Though only twelve letters were remaining, the dedication was skilfully reconstructed by Señores Madrazo and Amador de los Rio. The crown is suspended by four chains from an ornament composed of two golden lilies separated by a piece of rock crystal cut in facets. Each chain consists of four links, shaped like the leaf of the pear-tree. Hanging from one of these chains is a cross of beautiful workmanship, composed of pieces from two other crosses, belonging in all probability to two different crowns.
The exhibits N4 and N6 are floral ornaments similar to that from which the crown of Suintila is suspended. The votive crown of the Abbot Theodosius (N2) is of less elaborate workmanship and design; seven of its eight pendants of gold, pearls, and sapphires remain. Close to it (N3) is the Byzantine cross which, the letters stamped upon it in reverse order tell us, was offered by Bishop Lucetius. It has, likewise, seven pendants of gold and pear-shaped sapphires. The various articles in this collection do not differ appreciably in style and material, it is perhaps unnecessary to observe, from those of similar origin in the Cluny Museum. All exhibit the traces of Byzantine influence.
To the Visigothic era is also ascribed (Conde de Valencia thinks with good reason) a very ancient horse’s bit (F123—plate 9), found on a battlefield in Andalusia, and said to have been used by Witiza, the ill-fated Roderick’s predecessor. The mouthpiece does not differ greatly from the modern pattern, but in place of rings it has four oblong pieces pierced with holes for the reins and halter. These apertures form dragons’ heads and crosses, alternating with cruciform monograms. The bit is of unusual thickness, and the roughness of the work, together with the silver incrustation, complete its resemblance to other relics classified as Gothic or Scandinavian.
During the three centuries that followed the dreadful days of the Guadalete, the Spaniard must needs have looked well to his armour and his weapons: “In native swords and native ranks, the only hope of courage dwelt.” The sword industry of Toledo had passed under the control of the invaders, and we read that Abd-ur-Rahman II. (822-852) regulated and reformed it. One of the numerous friendly passages between Moor and Christian was marked by a gift of Toledan blades from Al Hakim II. to Sancho, Count of Navarre (865). Meanwhile, among the fastnesses of Asturias and the Pyrenees, the hard-pressed Spaniards were forging for themselves arms and armour against which the sword of the doughty Roland was shivered, and which successfully withstood the swift strong lance-thrusts of Saracen chivalry. Cut off though they were from the rest of the Christian world, the early defenders of Spanish liberty do not seem to have arrayed themselves for war in a fashion very different from that of their contemporaries. In the cathedral of Oviedo is preserved the Libro Goticó,[A] a curiously illuminated codex, where we see “armigers” carrying circular and kite-shaped shields, and wearing, in one case, what seems to be a hauberk of mail. The sepulchre of the three daughters of Ramiro I. of Aragon, dating from the last years of the eleventh century, is sculptured with the forms of three knights, two mounted and about to engage in combat, while the third, Samson-like, is forcing open the jaws of a monstrous beast. The cavaliers wear close-fitting caps, seemingly fluted, and very much like the chapelles-de-fer of a later age; long surcoats reaching below the knee, and decorated with ornamental borders at the neck, cuff, and openings; one is armed with a spear, the other with spear, sword, and kite-shaped shield with bosses; and both wear greaves or leg-armour of plate or leather. The horses are not provided with any defensive armour; the custom of “barding” chargers not being introduced till a much later date.
There is an extremely interesting manuscript in the British Museum called the Comentario Apocaliptica, said to have been executed between 1089 and 1109. It is frequently referred to by Hewitt, and throws much light on the armour of the period. We have reason to be grateful for the absurd practice persisted in by ancient illuminators and painters of depicting persons, supposed to have lived in Greek and Roman times, in the costume of their own day. One of the illuminations shows four knights mounted. They wear long coats of mail, reaching below the knees, with sleeves, which, in two cases, reach only to the elbows. In one case the coat of mail is shown as composed of blue scales, with red studs, and here we seem to have an instance of jazerine armour (from the Italian ghiazerino). It seems clear that the designer did not mean to represent chain-mail in this way, for when the body of the garment is obviously of mail he has taken care to distinguish a different pattern on the chausses or leg armour. Still in this class of illustration it is always a moot point what kind of armour the artist actually did mean to represent. Possibly a shirt of chain-mail was sometimes worn, with stockings of leather set with scales of metal, as more flexible and allowing greater freedom to the limbs. The shirts of mail are edged with wide borders, which may or may not represent the under tunic or gambeson showing beneath.
On fol. 194, we have the full-length picture of a warrior armed cap-à-pie. He wears a long hauberk of mail, chausses or leg-armour of the same material, and a conical helmet, with a “nasal” or nose-protector, exactly the same as that worn by William the Conqueror and his knights. Hewitt calls attention to the knop, or button, surmounting the helmet, as a peculiarity. The knight is armed with sword and spears, and, like the four others just mentioned, carries a circular target. This is a noteworthy detail, as kite-shaped shields were almost universally in vogue at this epoch, over the rest of Europe. That they were to some extent in use in Spain also, is attested by the specimen (O59) in the Armoury.