The impression conveyed by the Escorial at first sight is that of its colossal proportions, while one’s second impression is of austerity and uniformity in design. Henry O’Shea is right in saying, in his Guide to Spain and Portugal, that ‘to understand the Escorial it is necessary to have studied deeply and most impartially the character and genius of its founder; for this is not a monument which is the expression of an age or a people, but bears the stamp of a man of a special train of thought and feeling.’ O’Shea states that ‘the Monastery of the Escorial is the key to Philip’s character, never, as yet, perfectly understood by historians.’ Carl Justi, in a somewhat severe criticism of ‘the rigid geometrical design’ of the building, says that it ‘looks at us with petrifying effect,’ though he admits that the harmony of the pile with its surrounding landscape gives it a peculiar beauty.
Some of the older writers upon the Royal Monastery of Philip II. fervently praise the majesty of the great monument. The Countess D’Aulnoy, in her Letters from Spain, in 1679, wrote that the apartments of the king and queen at the Escorial were not stately, and that Philip, when he founded the building, intended it for a house of prayer and retirement, ‘the things he took most care to adorn’ being the Church and the Library. In the words of George Thompson, translator of Frey Francisco de los Santos’s work upon the Royal Palace of the Escorial, the edifice is ‘an astonishing work, in which the most prudent monarch Philip the Second offered to God a heaven on earth; to the illustrious Spanish martyr St. Lawrence a temple of divine magnificence, to his ancestors, a Christian mausoleum; to the Hieronymite recluses an august habitation; and to the world a structure which it can never sufficiently admire.’
In the eyes of the Spanish subjects of Philip, the Real Monasterio, or Real Sitio (Royal Residence), constituted the ‘eighth wonder of the world.’ Such a magnificent palace had not been seen in Spain since the palmy days of the Moorish potentates of Granada and Cordova. In no sense, however, could the Escorial be likened to the buildings of Morisco genius. It was eminently Christian in its conception and plan, and in its dedication to San Lorenzo, the martyr of the gridiron. The style was late Renaissance, uninfluenced by the ancient Oriental spirit, and owing its inspiration chiefly to the Doric designers, though the Gothic influence is of France.
If the exterior of the Escorial suggests in turn a sombre fortress, a mournful and gaunt hermitage, or a forbidding prison, it still impresses us as a very remarkable work of architecture. One must not look for the richly ornate, the flamboyant, and that prodigality of decoration which characterise many of the later public buildings of Spain. Huge, marked with the personality of the founder, menacing, and yet not without the nobility of plainness, the great creation of Philip II. is beyond doubt one of the world’s greatest edifices. To some observers it has brought a vague sense of depression when viewed upon a grey day amid its bleak surroundings; but the atmosphere of the place is far from unimpressive, for it is pregnant with memories, and vivid with dramatic passages in the lives of kings and their queens, courtiers, artists, friars, and the long train of inmates who lived within the stern granite walls. Moreover, as a museum, the Escorial is of supreme interest. It contains a wealth of wonderful works of art, and a superb library of costly books and old manuscripts.
The galleries, courts, and gardens of the building undoubtedly soften the aspect of the walls and the solemn towers. Flowers adorn the terraces: there are pleasant seats and niches, with shady walks between high box-hedges and splashing fountains. From the Lonja (the terraces) one looks upon varied vistas of the plain, the frowning mountains, the quaint flower-gardens, the ponds, and the wooded slopes, where there are English elms and beautiful chestnut-trees.
In the surrounding demesne, there are several points of interest. One of these is the ‘King’s Chair,’ among the rocks, where Philip sat to view the building of the monastery. We may also wander to the ‘Queen’s Belvedere,’ or climb the boulders of Castejon.
Not content with the vast accommodation of the Escorial, Philip caused certain small houses, or places of retreat, to be built in the vicinity. One of these, called La Granjilla, was surrounded by exquisite gardens, which were adorned with many fountains. The streams and tanks provided fish for the royal table. Another lodge was the Campillo, which the king erected in a magnificent and lonely situation among the hills. This house was afterwards altered by Philip IV.
III
THE CHURCH
From the point of view of architectural beauty, the Church of the Escorial is the finest of the several buildings within the walls. The eye is at once arrested by the tall towers on either side, the immense dome, with its superimposed massive lantern and cross, and the portals of the vestibule. As for the height of the towers, it is safe to say that they are considerably over 200 feet, though writers variously give the height as 260 feet and 270 feet. The structure is of granite throughout, huge in its plan, and severe in its Doric simplicity.
The tower on the right has a clock and a peal of bells. Each of the belfries has a platform with a balustrade, and the cupolas have a lantern tower, with several windows, and a lesser cupola above, crowned by a spire. On the top of the spire are a ball, a cross, and a weathercock. These towers are perhaps the most ornamental parts of the whole pile.