The reja of the Chapel Royal of Granada, “of two faces, the finest that was ever made of this material,” [80] has three tiers. “The first tier contains six Corinthian pilasters and a broad frieze covered with Plateresque ornamentation, as are the pedestals on which the pilasters rest. In the second tier are the arms of Ferdinand and Isabella within a garland supported by two lions, and other crowns together with the yoke and arrows;[81] all intertwined with stems, leaves, and little angels of an exquisite effect. Before the pilasters of this tier and of the one immediately above it are figures of the apostles on Gothic brackets—a style we also notice on the fastening of the gate and on the twisted railing; but every other detail of the grille is Plateresque. Upon the top are scenes of martyrdoms and of the life of Christ, the whole surmounted by a decorative scheme of leaves and candelabra, and, over this, a crucifix together with the figures of the Virgin and Saint John. The designing of the figures is only moderately good, but all remaining detail and the craftsmanship are admirable” [82] (Plates [xxiii]. and [xxiv].).

Last on my list of Spanish reja-makers I place the greatest and most honoured of them all—Cristóbal de Andino, who, as a modern writer has expressed it, “uttered the last word in the matter of giving shape to iron.” Cristóbal, son of Pedro de Andino—himself an artist of no mean capacity—excelled in architecture, sculpture, rejería, and probably in silver-work as well. “Good craftsmen,” wrote his contemporary, Diego de Sagredo, “and those who wish their work to breathe the spirit of authority and pass without rebuke, should follow—like your fellow-townsman, Cristóbal de Andino—ancient precepts, in that his works have greater elegance and beauty than any others that I witnessed heretofore. If this (you think) be not the case, look at that reja he is making for my lord the Constable, which reja is well known to be superior to all others of this kingdom.”

Such is the reja thought, both then and now, to be the finest ever made. The style is pure Renaissance. Two tiers of equal height consist of four-and-twenty ornamented rails or balusters disposed, above, between four columns; below, between four pilasters. An attic is upon the cornice, and contains two central, semi-naked, kneeling figures which support a large, crowned shield. This is surmounted by a bust of God the Father, enclosed in a triangular frame, and raising the hand to bless. On either side of the attic are S-shaped crests sustaining circular medallions with the likenesses, in bold relief, of Christ and Mary. Along the friezes are the legends; EGO SUM ALPHA ET Ω; EGO SUM LUX VERA; and ECCE ANCILLA DOMINI, together with the words, referring to the artist, AB ANDINO, and the date A.D. MDXXIII. The decorative scheme is spirited and delicate at once, whether we observe it on the railing, pilasters, and columns, or on the horizontal parts and members of the reja. The attic which surmounts the double tier and cornice is finally surmounted by a gilt Saint Andrew's cross; and the entire screen is lavishly painted and gilded throughout.

Here is a thing—almost a being—created out of iron, so intensely lovely that the eye would wish to contemplate it to the end of time; and, as we linger in its presence, if perchance the dead are privileged to hear their earthly praises echoed in the silence of the tomb, surely from his marble sepulchre Cristóbal de Andino listens to such praises at this hour. For yonder, in the neighbouring parish church of San Cosmé, beside a wife devoted and well-loved the great artificer is laid to rest, where Latin words (although of idle purport while the reja of the Constable remains) are deep engraved to thus remind us of his worth:—

CHRISTOPHORUS ANDINO EGREGIUS
ARTIFEX ET IN ARCHITECTURA OMNIUM
SUI SECULI FACILE PRINCEPS
MONUMENTUM SIBI PONENDUM LE
GAVIT ET CATERINA FRIAS EJUS
UXOR HONESTISSIMA STATIM MARITI
VOTIS ET SUIS SATISFACIENDUM B
ENIGNE CHRISTIANEQUE CURAVIT URNAM CU
JUS LAPIDES SOLUM AMBORUM OSSA TEGUNT
SED ADMONET ETIAM CERTIS ANNUI HE
BDOMADE CUJUSQUE DIEBUS SACRIFICIA
PRO EIS ESSE PERPETUO FACIENDA

But if these splendid rejas of her temples constitute to-day a special glory of this nation, her private balconies and window-gratings were in former times, though from profaner motives, almost or quite as notable. Between the sixteenth and the eighteenth centuries, few of the foreigners who visited Spain omitted to record their admiration of these balconies, crowded upon a holiday with pretty women. “Il y avoit,” wrote Bertaut de Rouen in 1659, “autant de foule à proportion qu'à Paris; et mesme ce qu'il y avoit de plus beau, c'estoit que comme il y avoit des balcons à toutes les fenestres et qu'elles estoient occupées par toutes les dames de la ville, cela faisoit un plus bel effet que les échaffauts que l'on fait dans les rues de Paris en semblables rencontres.”

REJA
(Casa de Pilatos, Seville)

Pinheiro da Veiga, in his queer Pincigraphia, or “Description and Natural and Moral History of Valladolid,” written earlier in the same century, and published twenty years ago by Gayangos from a manuscript in the British Museum, is more plain-spoken than the Frenchman on the various merits and peculiarities of the Spanish balconies and rejas. “All of these churches have the most beautiful iron balustrades and iron open-work doors (cancelas) that can be found in Europe, for nowhere is iron worked so skilfully as here in Valladolid. These objects are made by the Moriscos with turned balusters, foliage, boughs, fruits, war-material, trophies, and other contrivances, which afterwards they gild and silver into the very likeness of these metals. I say the same of window-balconies; for nearly every window has its balcony. There are in Valladolid houses up which one might clamber to the very roof from balcony to balcony, as though these were a hand-ladder. So too from balcony to balcony (for the distance from one to other is never greater than a palm's breadth) one might climb round the whole Plaza. By reason of this, we Portuguese were wont to say that if there were as many thieves or lovers in Valladolid as in Portugal, verily both one and other of this kind of folks would have but little need of hand-ladders. Yet here the thieves content themselves with stealing by the light of day, while as for the women (crafty creatures that they are!), they perpetrate their thefts away from home; and, having all the day at their disposal, prefer to thieve while daylight lasts, rather than pass the night uncomfortably. To this I heard a lady of Castile declare, when one of my friends, a Portuguese, petitioned her for leave to speak with her at night across her reja: ‘That would be tantamount to passing from one hierro to another yerro;[83] and in my house (which is also your worship's) it would not look well for you to seem a window-climbing thief.’”