Spain, v. 2 (of 2)

by Edmondo De Amicis

Excepting the courtyard, the other parts of the building—the stairways, the rooms, the corridors—everything is in ruins or falling to ruins. They were at work turning the palace into a military school, whitewashing the walls, breaking down the partitions to make great dormitories, numbering the doors, and converting the palace into a barracks. Nevertheless, they left intact the great subterranean chambers which were used for stables at the time of Charles V., and which are still able to hold several thousand horses. The guide made me approach a window from which I looked down into an abyss that gave me an idea of their vastness. Then we climbed a series of unsteady steps into one of the four towers; the guide opened with pincers and a hammer a window that had been nailed fast, and with the air of one who was announcing a miracle said to me, "Look, sir!"

Alcazar and Bridge of San Martin, Toledo

It was a wonderful panorama. One had a bird's-eye view of the city of Toledo, street by street and house by house, as if one were looking at a map spread upon a table: here the cathedral, rising above the city like a measureless castle, and making all the buildings around it seem as small as toy houses; there the balcony of San Juan de las Reyes, crowned with statues; yonder the embattled towers of the New Gate, the circus, the Tagus running at the foot of the city between its rocky banks; and beyond the river, opposite the bridge of Alcantara, on a precipitous crag, the ruins of the ancient castle of San Servando; still farther off a verdant plain, and then rocks, hills, and mountains as far as the eye can see; and over all a very clear sky and the setting sun, which gilded the summits of the old buildings and flashed on the river like a great silver scarf.

While I was contemplating this magic spectacle the guide, who had read the History of Toledo and wished me to know the fact, was telling all sorts of stories with that manner, half poetical and half facetious, which is distinctive of the Spaniards of the South. Above all, he wished to explain the history of the work of fortification, and although, where he said that he saw clear and unmistakable remains which he pointed out to me, I saw nothing at all, I succeeded, nevertheless, in learning something about it.

He told me that Toledo had been thrice surrounded by a wall, and that the traces of all three walls were still clear. "Look!" he said; "follow the line which my finger indicates: that is the Roman wall, the innermost one, and its ruins are still visible. Now look a little farther on: that other one beyond it is the Gothic wall. Now let your glance describe a curve which embraces the first two: that is the Moorish wall, the most recent. But the Moors also built an inner wall on the ruins of the Roman wall: this you can easily see. Then observe the direction of the streets, which converge toward the highest point of the city; follow the line of the roofs—here, so; you will see that all the streets go up zigzag, and they were built purposely in this manner, so that the city could be defended even after the walls had been destroyed; and the houses were built so close one against another in order that it would be possible to jump from roof to roof, you see; and then the Arabs have left it in their writings. This is the reason that the Spanish gentlemen from Madrid make me laugh when they come here and say, 'Pooh! what streets!' You see, they do not know a particle of history: if they knew the least bit, if they read a little instead of spending their days on the Prado and in the Recoleto, they would understand that there is a reason for the narrow streets of Toledo, and that Toledo is not a city for ignoramuses."

I began to laugh.

"Do you not believe?" continued the custodian: "it is a sacred fact. Not a week ago, to cite a case, here comes a dandy from Madrid with his wife. Well, even as they were climbing the stairs they began to run down the city, the narrow streets, and the dark houses. When they came to this window and saw those two old towers down yonder on the plain on the left bank of the Tagus, they asked me what they were, and I answered, 'Los palacios de Galiana.' 'Oh! what beautiful palaces!' they exclaimed, and began to laugh and looked in another direction. Why? Because they did not know their history. Now, I imagine that you do not know any better; but you are a stranger, and that makes a difference. Know, then, that the great emperor Charlemagne came to Toledo when he was a very young man. King Galafro was reigning then, and dwelt in that palace. King Galafro had a daughter Galiana, as beautiful as an angel; and, as Charlemagne was a guest of the king and saw the princess every day, he fell in love with her with all his heart, and so did the princess with him. But there was a rival between them, and this rival was the king of Guadalajara, a Moorish giant of herculean strength and the courage of a lion. This king, to see the princess without being seen, had a subterranean passage made all the way from the city of Guadalajara to the very foundation of the palace. But what good did it do? The princess could not even bear to see him, and as often as he came, so often did he return crestfallen; but not for this did the enamored king stop paying his court. And so much did he come hanging around that Charlemagne, who was not a man to be imposed upon, as you can imagine, lost his patience, and to end the matter challenged him. They fought: it was a terrible struggle, but the Moor, for all he was a giant, got the worst of it. When he was dead Charlemagne cut off his head and laid it at the feet of his love, who approved the delicacy of his offering, became a Christian, gave her hand to the prince, and went away with him to France, where she was proclaimed empress."

"And the head of the Moor?"

"You may laugh, but these are sacred facts. Do you see that old building down there at the highest point of the city? It is the church of San Ginés. And do you know what is inside of it? Nothing less than the door of an underground passage which extends three leagues beyond Toledo. You do not believe it? Listen! At the place where the church of San Ginés now stands there once was an enchanted palace before the Moors invaded Spain. No king had ever had the courage to enter it, and those who might possibly have been so bold did not do it because, according to the tradition, the first man who crossed that threshold would be the ruin of Spain. Finally King Roderic, before setting out for the battle of Guadalete, hoping to find in it some treasures which would furnish him means to resist the invasion of the Moors, had the doors broken open and entered, preceded by his warriors, who lighted the way. After a great deal of trouble to keep their torches lighted for the furious wind which came through the underground passages, they reached a mysterious room where they saw a chest which bore the inscription, 'He who opens me will see miracles.' The king commanded that it be opened: with incredible difficulty they succeeded in opening it, but, instead of gold or diamonds, they found only a roll of linen, on which were painted some armed Moors, with this inscription underneath: 'Spain will soon be destroyed by these.' That very night a violent tempest arose, the enchanted palace fell, and a short time afterward the Moors entered Spain. You don't seem to believe it?"