The choice of a situation for the erection of this convent was perfect in the then flourishing state of Toledo; and, even now, its picturesque position lends a charm to the melancholy and deserted remains still visible of its grandeur and beauty. It stands on the brow of the cliff, commanding the termination of the chasm already described as commencing at the bridge of Alcantara. It commands, therefore, the ruins of Roderick's palace, placed a few hundred yards further on, and on a lower level; still lower the picturesque bridge of St. Martin, striding to the opposite cliff, over arches of ninety feet elevation, and the lovely vega which stretches to the west.
This monastery was one of the most favoured amongst the numerous royal endowments of that period. It is said that its foundation was the result of a vow pronounced by Ferdinand and the Queen before the taking of Granada. In addition to the scale of magnificence adopted throughout the entire plan, the royal founders, on its completion, bestowed a highly venerated donation—the collection of chains taken from the limbs of the Christian captives, rescued by them from the dungeons of the Alhambra. They are suspended on the outside walls of the two sides of the north-eastern angle of the church, and are made to form a frieze, being placed in couples crossing each other at an acute angle; while those that remained are suspended vertically in rows by fours or fives, in the intervals of the pilastres.
The interior of the church is still sufficiently entire to give some idea of its original splendour. Its dimensions are rather more than two hundred feet in length, by eighty in width, and as many in height—excepting over the intersection of the nave and transept, where the ceiling rises to a hundred and eight feet. These dimensions are exclusive of three recesses on either side, forming chapels open to the nave, there being no lateral naves or aisles. The style of the whole is very ornamental; but the east end is adorned with an unusual profusion of sculpture. The transept is separated from the eastern extremity of the building, by a space no greater than would suffice for one of the arches; and its ends form the lines, which being prolonged, constitute the backs of the chapels. The royal arms, supported by spread eagles, are repeated five times on each end-wall; separated respectively by statues of saints in their niches, and surmounted by a profusion of rich tracery. These subjects entirely cover the walls to a height of about forty feet, at which elevation another inscription in honour of the founders runs round the whole interior. The transepts not being formed by open arches, the sides afford space for a repetition of the same ornament, until at their junction with the nave they are terminated by two half-piers covered with tracery, and surmounted by semi-octagonal balconies, beneath which the initials of Ferdinand and Isabella, made to assume a fancy shape, and surmounted by coronets, are introduced with singularly graceful effect.
But the chief attraction of this ruin is the cloister. A small quadrangle is surrounded by an ogival or pointed arcade, enriched with all the ornament that style is capable of receiving. It encloses a garden, which, seen through the airy-web of the surrounding tracery, must have produced in this sunny region a charming effect. At present, one side being in ruins and unroofed, its communication with the other three has been interrupted; and, whether or not in the idea of preserving the other sides from the infection, their arches have been closed nearly to the top by thin plaister walls. Whatever may have been the motive of this arrangement, it answers the useful purpose of concealing from the view a gallery which surmounts the cloister, the arches of which would neutralize the souvenirs created by the rest of the scene, since they announce a far different epoch of art, by the grievous backsliding of taste evinced in their angular form and uncouth proportions.
Until the destruction of the monastery by the French, the number of monks was very considerable; and in consequence of the unusual privileges accorded to their body, had become the objects of especial veneration. A curious proof of this still exists in the form of a printed paper, pasted on one of the doors in the interior of the church, and no doubt preserved carefully by the fifteen or sixteen brothers, who continued after the dispersion of the rest to inhabit the few apartments, which, by their situation over the cloister, had escaped the flames; and who were only finally compelled to evacuate their retreat on the occasion of the general convent crusade of the late revolution. It is an announcement of indulgences, of which the following is the opening paragraph:—
"Indulgence and days of pardon to be gained by kissing the robe of the brothers of San Francisco.
"All the faithful gain, for each time that they kiss the aforesaid holy robe with devotion of heart, two thousand and seventy-five days of Indulgence. Further than this, whosoever of the faithful shall kiss the aforesaid holy robe devoutly, gains each time eight thousand one hundred days of pardon. The which urges to the exercise of this devotion the Princes, Kings, Emperors, Bishops, and highest dignitaries of the Church, and the monks of other religious orders; and even those of the same order gain the same, according to the doctrine of Lantusca, who writes, 'Videant religiosi quantum thesaurum portent secum.' Since those who with hearts filled with lowliness and love, bend the knees to kiss the precious garment, which opens to so many souls the entrance to Heaven, leading them aside from the paths of perdition, with trembling and terror of the entire hosts of hell, are doubtless those who gain the above-mentioned Indulgences, &c."