Glories of Spain

by Charles W. Wood

From this we made our way to the cathedral, of which little need be said. After the architectural dreams of Catalonia, it was terribly unsatisfactory. The interior gave out no sense of grandeur, repose or devotion. On Sunday, during service, it gained a certain solemn impressiveness from the kneeling crowd, but that was all. Begun in the thirteenth century, and originally Gothic, few traces of the first building remain. Certain portions of the exterior are beautiful and striking; especially the magnificent north doorway—the Apostles' Gateway; deep and richly ornamented, though many of its statues have disappeared. It is here that the Tribunal of the Waters sits in judgment, to which we have heard de Nevada allude.

Near the cathedral was the Audiencia, or Court of Justice, one of the most perfect buildings in Europe. Though the ground-floor has been divided into public offices, the elaborately carved and gilt ceilings remain, decorated with splendid honey-comb pendentives of the Moorish School. The first floor is given up to the matchless Salon de Cortes, where justice is administered; its walls covered with curious frescoes of the sixteenth century, chiefly portraits of the members of the Cortes assembled in session. The rich carving of the room is in native pine, and was finished in the sixteenth century, when art was still at its best. A narrow gallery runs round the room supported by slender columns. Below this are coats-of-arms and busts of the kings of Aragon, with appropriate historical incidents. The ceiling is also elaborately carved in lozenges encased in square panels. Not the smallest fragment of the room has been left undecorated, and its refined, subdued tone is lovely in the extreme. Here we found the sword and banner of Jayme el Conquistador, which the Valencians place amongst their chief treasures.

The churches are numerous, but not specially interesting. San Salvador possesses a rude expressive sculpture of the thirteenth century, a curious image, supposed to have been carved by Nicodemus, and said to have miraculously found its solitary way from Syria across the seas.

Not far from this is the Church, given to the Templars by James I. in 1238, when already a building of some antiquity. Here was the remarkable tower of Alibufat, on which the Cross was first displayed. But like the people of Zaragoza, who pulled down their leaning tower, so the Valencians demolished the tower of Alibufat to widen a street. We have seen that even their ancient walls were not spared. They have no respect for antiquity; no love for the past. A modern spirit possesses them; a love of pleasure and comfort; a desire to get money for the sake of indulgence. Gay, lively, full of excitement and impulse, everything yields to the passing moment.

Next we come to the once vast and splendid Convent of San Domingo, in the days of its glory one of the richest and most powerful convents in Spain, but now shorn of all its ecclesiastical element. Outlines alone remain: the chapter-house and cloisters of late Gothic still beautiful and refined. In a small chapel supported by four slender pillars San Vincente Ferrer took upon him the vows of a monk.

Of the religious ceremonies the most imposing is the Miserere which takes place every Friday in the church of the Colegio del Patriarca. High Mass is first given at nine o'clock. The music both at this and the Miserere is magnificent. Many of the rank and fashion of Valencia are constant in their attendance. Ladies assemble in a great crowd, each wearing a black mantilla. As they kneel in penitential attitude the scene is full of devotional grace and charm.

The space above the high altar is covered with a purple pall which looks black and funereal. Chanting commences: slow and solemn and in the minor key.

Suddenly, in the midst of the sad cadences, the picture above the altar descends by machinery, and in its place is seen a lilac veil. There is a slight movement, a half-raising of the head, amidst the congregation; an attitude of expectation. The mournful but exquisite music does not cease. It is soft and subdued, appealing to the senses. Presently the veil is withdrawn and gives place to a grey veil. This in turn passes away and a black veil appears, representing the veil of the Temple. It is torn asunder, and an image of the Saviour on the Cross is disclosed.