It was possibly due to the presence of a large Israelite population that Toledo, very much against its 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 the Christian 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 and ricoshombres jousted 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 the Ayalas 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.
BUILDINGS OF THE CASTILIAN PERIOD
The earliest 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 will have 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 becomes instantly manifested 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 the enceinte. 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 vistas of 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.