The Arabs defeated and thrown out of the peninsula, the vikings' last business trip to Galicia over, and the Portuguese arms driven to the valley of Braga beyond the Miño, Orense settled down to a peaceful life, the monotony of which was broken now and again—as it usually was in this part of the country—by squabbles between noblemen, prelates, and the bons bourgeois. If no prince of the Church was killed here, as happened in Lugo, one at least died mysteriously in the hands of his enemies. Not that it seemed to have mattered much, for said bishop appears to have been a peculiar sort of spiritual shepherd, full of vice, and devoid of virtue, some of whose doings have been caricatured—according to the popular belief[{113}]—in the cornices and friezes of the convent of San Francisco.
Otherwise, peace reigned in the land, and Orense passed a quiet existence, a circumstance that did not in the slightest add to its importance, either as an art, commercial, or industrial centre. To-day, full of strangers in summer, who visit the sulphurous baths as did the Romans, and empty in winter, it exists without living, as does so many a Spanish town.
Nevertheless, with Vigo and Corunna, it is one of the cities with a future still before it. At least, its situation is bound to call attention as soon as ever the country is opened up to progress and commerce.
The cathedral of Orense, like those of Tuy, Santiago, and Lugo, was erected in a castro. These castros were circular dips in the ground, surrounded by a low wall, which served the druids as their place of worship. The erection of Christian churches in these sacred spots proves beyond a doubt that the new religion became amalgamated with the old, and even laid its foundations on the latter's most hallowed castros.
Perhaps the question presents itself as to why a cathedral was erected in Orense previous[{114}] to any other city. From a legend it would appear that the king of the Suevos, Carrarick, had a son who was dying; thanks to the advice of a Christian monk, a disciple of St. Martin, and, one is inclined to think, fresh from Tours, the king dipped his son in the baths of Orense, invoking at the same time the help of St. Martin. Upon pulling his offspring out of the water, he discovered that he had been miraculously cured. The grateful monarch immediately became a stout Christian, and erected a basilica—destroyed and rebuilt many a time during the dark ages of feudalism and Arab invasion—in honour of his son's saviour. What is more wonderful still is that, soon afterward, the relics of the French saint were cherished in Orense without its being positively known whence they came!
The present cathedral, the date of the erection of which is a point of discussion to-day, is generally believed to have been built on the spot occupied by the primitive basilica. It is dedicated to Santa Maria la Madre according to the official (doubtful?) statement, and to St. Martin of Tours, Apostle of Gaul, according to the popular version.[{115}]
The general appearance of the cathedral proclaims it to have been begun, or at least planned, in the twelfth century, and not, as Baedeker states, in 1220. As a twelfth-century church we are not obliged to consider it for more reasons than one, and especially because, as we have seen, the twelfth century was the great period of Galician church-building. It was in this century that the northwest shone forth in the history of Spain as it had not done before, nor has done since.
The church is another Romanesque specimen, but less pure in its style than any of the others mentioned so far: the ogival arch is prevalent, but rather as a decorative than as an essentially constructive element. As it is, it was commenced at least fifty years after the cathedral of Lugo, and though both are twelfth-century churches, the one is an early and the other presumably a late one; the employment of the ogival arch to a greater degree in Orense than in Lugo is thus easily explained.
In short, the cathedral of Orense is another example of the peculiar Romanesque of Galicia, which, withstanding the invasion of Gothic, created a school of its own, pretty[{116}] in details, bold in harmony, though it be a hybrid school after all.
The influence of the cathedral of Santiago is self-evident in the cathedral of Orense. How could it be otherwise, when the bishop Don Diego, who sat on the chair, was a great friend and a continual visitor of that other Don Diego in Santiago who erected the primate cathedral of Galicia?