Toledo: an historical and descriptive account of the "City of generations"

by Albert Frederick Calvert

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 its actual 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 style about 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 of undercutting. 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, and not of 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 the Transito seems 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 a parallelogram, 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 of artesonado work. 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 Epistle side 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 from its 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, and ajimeces. 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. The colours 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 opposite ajimez window, but here the designs show Gothic influence. A high dado of azulejos and 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 the Noche 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.