Buildings, like poems or pictures, reflect the character of those who conceive and produce them. The Escorial may be likened to a document or a painting revealing the temperament, the aspirations, and the philosophy of a powerful, sombre, and withal, fascinating personality. Its severe form and its restrained embellishment are stamped with the individuality of the monarch who devoted the leisure of thirty years of his life to the erection, extension, improvement, and internal adornment of an immense and costly pile, comprising within its walls a monastery, a church, a burial-fane, a palace, a college, and a gallery of the arts. The Escorial was a place of retirement, an imposing hermitage for the devout and moody Philip II. of Spain. It is a monument to his power, a revelation of his mind; and, if we study the edifice, we shall learn what manner of man he was who founded it.

Ferdinand and Isabella consolidated Spain into one great empire, and under their grandson, Charles V., the nation advanced in greatness, until it held sway over vast regions of the New World. When the Emperor Charles yielded sovereignty, in 1556, the sceptre passed to his son, Philip. Two years after, upon the death of the Emperor (Sept. 21, 1558), Philip II. became ruler over the whole of the Spanish dominion at home and abroad.

The heir of Charles V. was born at Valladolid on May 21, 1527. His mother was the Empress Isabella, daughter of Emanuel the Great of Portugal, and by his father he descended from Charles the Bold of Burgundy. Under the tutorship of Juan Martinez Siliceo, the young prince received his education at the celebrated University of Salamanca. He excelled in knowledge of the classics, and exhibited considerable linguistic talent, for he was able to write in Latin with facility and possessed an acquaintance with French and Italian. Architecture, painting, and sculpture interested the youth, and he studied mathematics.

His royal mother died when Philip was twelve years old. Four years later the prince was betrothed to the Infanta Mary, daughter of John III. of Portugal and Catherine, sister of the Emperor Charles V. In 1543 this desired alliance with Portugal was confirmed by the marriage of Philip to his cousin, the Infanta, in the city of Salamanca. Shortly after the ceremony, the young pair went to reside in Valladolid, and here was born to them a son, Don Carlos, whose mysterious death in captivity at the age of twenty-three remains unexplained.

In giving birth to her first child, the princess lost her life. Before the rejoicings of the nation at the birth of a prince were at an end, the country was startled by the death of the young mother, and gaiety was suddenly changed to mourning. From the Cathedral of Granada, where the body of the Princess Mary was buried, the remains were afterwards removed to the stately mausoleum of the Escorial, the resting-place for the bones of the royal family of Spain, which was erected by Philip many years later.

In 1554 Philip II., not yet a sovereign, married Mary of England. The union was arranged by his father, Charles V., and for a time the prince lived in England with his bride. He was, however, called upon to attend the Emperor in Flanders, and was absent from Mary until 1557, when he again visited England. His stay was a brief one, for he was summoned in less than four months to the Netherlands. In the following year Queen Mary died.

Upon the accession of Elizabeth to the throne of England, Philip of Spain received her assurances of amity. Not many weeks after the burial of Mary, Philip directed Feria, his ambassador in England, to propose, on his behalf, a matrimonial as well as a political alliance with Elizabeth. The queen replied that she must consult Parliament upon the subject, and that ‘should she be induced to marry, there was no man she should prefer to him.’ Philip wrote an affectionate letter to Elizabeth, declaring that he longed for the success of his ambassador’s mission. The Protestant Reformation, which swept over England, was, however, a sufficient bar to the marriage of Philip and Elizabeth. Philip expressed his disappointment when the final answer was received from England, but he still protested his friendship for Elizabeth, and hoped that amicable relations would continue between the two nations.

In 1559 Philip married the Princess Elizabeth of France. It had been proposed that the princess should marry Don Carlos, the son and heir of Philip; but, for diplomatic reasons, it was considered more expedient that Elizabeth, who was only fourteen years of age, should wed with the king. The proposal came from France, and in reply to it, the Spanish envoys avowed that ‘notwithstanding their master’s repugnance to entering into wedlock, yet, from his regard to the French monarch, and his desire for the public weal, he would consent to waive his scruples and accept the hand of the French princess with the same dowry promised to his son Don Carlos.’

Tragedy attended the wedding festivities of Philip and Elizabeth of France. In the course of a tournament, arranged by Henry, father of the princess, a challenge was sent by that monarch to Lord Montgomery, a Scottish nobleman and captain of the king’s guard, renowned for his feats of arms. The queen begged the king to refrain from the encounter, but Henry commanded the unwilling Montgomery to prepare for the combat. At the first encounter the Scot pierced the visor of his opponent; the lance splintered, and a piece of it penetrated the eye of the king, who was borne from the arena by his attendants seriously wounded and unconscious. For ten days he lay in pain, and died on July 10, 1559, of his injury. His queen, Catherine de Medici, thus saw the fulfilment of her foreboding when she vainly besought the valorous Henry to abstain from further jousting.

The battle of St. Quintin, in August 1557, which saw the triumph of the Spanish arms over the French, was an event of extreme moment, and was the source of Philip’s resolve to erect the Escorial. In this engagement the Duke of Savoy, at the head of the Spanish troops, D’Egmont, in command of the Dutch and German horsemen and infantry, and Lord Pembroke with his force of British soldiers, defeated the army of France, and killed three thousand men. During the height of the battle, which was fought on the day dedicated to San Lorenzo, Philip besought the assistance of that saint, and vowed that if aid were vouchsafed, he would build a mighty and permanent monument to the deliverer.

The French general was the Duke de Nevers, who was assisted by the Constable of France, Montmorency. To Coligni, the great admiral, was given the task of augmenting the garrison of St. Quintin. The troops of France were nevertheless greatly outnumbered by the Spanish forces. Flemings, Englishmen, and Spaniards, in combined array, made desperate assault upon the defenders of St. Quintin. In a last rally the French formed squares, but the artillery of the Duke of Savoy broke up their ranks. Montmorency was among the prisoners who were seized by the Spanish, and it is recorded that he was treated with considerate courtesy.

It is probable that another motive in addition to gratitude to San Lorenzo actuated Philip II. in building the monastery of the Escorial. He was under an obligation by the will of Charles V. to erect a royal burial-place, and the example of his father in yielding the crown for the ascetic life of the cloister may have induced him to add a religious house to the mausoleum, and to provide a retreat for himself in the closing days of his reign. Whatever may have inspired the resolution, it is quite evident that the idea took passionate possession of the king’s mind, and that he spent vast treasure and much industry upon the work of rearing this extraordinary conglomerate pile.

The choice of a situation for the building accords with all that we know of Philip’s trend of thought and feeling in middle life. He was not hasty in determining the position for the upraising of his monument. The place must be solitary, stern, and amid impressive surroundings, where nature is seen in a mood of perennial musing and melancholy. No doubt the king wandered often in the wastes of Castile, among the rocks, the treeless plains, and the mountainous surrounding of Madrid, in quest of a suitable site for his hermitage and sanctuary. It was necessary, in a material sense, that the district should produce an abundance of stone of a durable quality.

How Philip came to fix upon this spur of the bleak Guadarrama is not precisely known. Probably his conception of the Escorial was that of an austere and plain building, which should, so far as possible, resemble the natural surroundings, and suggest a part of them rather than a contrast to their sternness. The retreat was to be no palace of gilded luxury, but a grim and majestic building consecrated to devotion, penance, and solemn reflection. Where could a more appropriate spot be found for the retirement of a recluse than among the encompassing crags, defiles, and peaks of the Guadarrama Mountains?

In ancient times iron had been worked in this desolate wilderness of Castile. The scoriÆ, or refuse of the mines, lay upon the hillsides, and gave the name of ‘Escorial’ to this shoulder of the range. After a search, which had lasted two years, Philip concluded that no better situation could be desired. In his decision he was assisted by experts in geology, the science of health, and the art of architecture. The site was distant eight leagues from Madrid, and close to a hamlet known as Escorial.

In the document written by Philip respecting the founding of the monastery, we read that, inspired by gratitude to God for His benefits, the king desired to establish churches and convents, and to build a place of burial for his royal successors. ‘For these considerations we are Founding and building the Royal Monastery of San Lorenzo, near the town of the Escorial, in the diocese and archbishopric of Toledo, and we dedicate it to the blessed San Lorenzo on account of the special devotion which we have to this Saint, and in memory of the victory which we gained on his feast-day. We Found it according to the Order of St. Jerome because of the affection and devotion we have for this Order, and which the Emperor and King, our Father, had for the same. Besides this we have decided that a college shall also be Founded, where the arts and theology shall be taught, and where some young men shall be brought up under the rule of a seminary,’ etc.

Philip purchased all the land required for the erection of the monastery before the work of clearing it was begun. He took up residence on the site, in rude temporary lodgings, and followed with closest interest every detail of the designing and construction. His chosen architect was Juan Bautista de Toledo, who had studied his art in Rome and Naples. Toledo was a native of Madrid, and in Italy he had made his reputation by designing a palace at Posilipo, and the celebrated Strada di Toledo. He was assisted in planning the Escorial by Lucas de Escalante and Pedro de Tolosa.

The first stone was laid on April 23, 1563. Toledo worked upon the Escorial till 1567, when he died. His scheme embraced the monastery for fifty Hieronymite monks, the royal residence, the burial-chamber, and the church. Juan Bautista de Toledo was succeeded by Juan de Herrera, who enlarged the convent and designed a bell tower. His assistant was Juan de Minjores, who had executed the church of the Alhambra, and planned part of the Alcazar of Seville.

Toledo’s plan was ambitious and eccentric. He was influenced by the Renaissance ideals, and he employed the Doric style in its severest examples. Philip would have no luxurious decorations, no flamboyant effects; everything must be plain to austerity. Some critics have asserted that the simplicity of the Escorial is impressive and noble, while others complain of its rigidity and sombreness. The plan of the building is in the shape of a gridiron, to commemorate, it is surmised, the fate of San Lorenzo, who was roasted on a grid. The handle of the gridiron is represented by the Palace of the Infantas; the monastery, the seminary, and the royal apartments represent the bars of the implement upon which the saint was martyred.

It is evident that the architects were not allowed perfect freedom in their designs. The king constantly inspected their plans, corrected or improved them according to his own ideas, and made numerous suggestions. From his youth Philip had displayed a love of architecture, and there is no doubt that he was personally the inventor of many features of the Escorial. It has been related that he somewhat hampered the designers by his frequent insistence upon severity of style, and by his interference in many details of the work.

The king often repaired to a rock commanding a view of the busy scene beneath, where he would sit for hours, watching the progress made by the great army of craftsmen and toilers. A fear, which was almost morbid, assailed him at the dread thought that he might die before his scheme was brought to its completion. His days were occupied in superintending the tasks of the architects, artists, and decorators, and in pious meditation in his retreat. Sometimes he would roam with his gun, in the surrounding grey wilderness, unattended, and buried in reflection. His relations with the favourite painters of his retinue were of the friendliest order, and he avoided the attitude of the mere patron. With Titian the king was very intimate, and he would sit by the easel of Coello, watching the picture that grew upon the canvas.

The studio of Coello adjoined the royal apartment, and Philip came frequently to converse with the painter. He delighted also in the society of Antonio Moro. To Titian he paid large sums for his services, and when the work was finished the king handsomely pensioned the artist. When Titian died, the pension was continued to his son.

In 1570 Philip married for the fourth time, his bride being Anne of Austria. A year later the queen gave birth to Fernando, who died at Madrid at the age of seven, and was buried in the Escorial. The body of Don John of Austria, natural brother of Philip, was interred beneath the altar of the church in the following year. In 1574 the remains of the illustrious Emperor Charles were transferred to the vaults of the Escorial with much ceremony, and at the same time several other royal coffins were removed to the newly-made royal resting-place. During the solemn service a terrific storm destroyed the dais which had been erected for the ceremony, and the splendid trappings that covered it.

Besides the havoc of hurricanes, the building twice suffered serious injury from fires. The first broke out when the work was almost finished. The cause of the conflagration was a lightning stroke, and the flames raged for several hours, creating consternation among the monks and the other inmates of the edifice. When the fire was subdued, the king had to grieve the destruction of the fine belfry and the loss of a costly peal of bells. Although the fabric was much damaged, no lives were lost, and several sacred relics were recovered uninjured.

The heavy cost of erecting the Escorial increased the amounts paid in taxation, and among the people of Spain there was some discontent with the expenditure. There was also disaffection upon one or two occasions among the mechanics employed upon the building. The cause, or the effect, of this insubordinate feeling was the rumour that Satan in the guise of a hound with wings prowled about the corridors in the dark. A friar hearing certain gruesome sounds during matins, went out to investigate the cause of the disturbance, and discovered a stray dog wandering in the building. The dog was promptly hanged, and his carcass exposed on the exterior of the edifice;—proof positive that the mysterious visits were at an end.

It is interesting to learn that a party of Japanese delegates came to request an audience of Philip in the year 1582. The Jesuits had made several converts in Japan, and it was proposed to ordain some of these as priests. But the papal sanction had to be obtained, and the ruler of Japan sent an embassy to the Pope. Before going to Rome, these representatives came to Spain and paid reverence to Philip, who entertained them cordially.

In 1586 the king was busy with preparations for the ceremony of consecrating the church of the Escorial, which had been completed some time previously. During the erection of the church, services were held in a temporary structure, and in this building there was a celebration of the mass before the procession entered the new church. Philip, the prince, and several great clerics supported the canopy which was carried in the solemn pageant. The temporary church, which stood in the hamlet, was afterwards reconstructed, and placed at the service of the people.

About the year 1582 the king was seized with a distemper of an epidemic character, and was so prostrated that he prepared himself for death, and wrote his will. But his disorder, although dangerous, was not fatal, though the queen, who was also attacked, died in this same year. She was interred among other royal persons in the Escorial. The death of Philip II. occurred in 1598. He was indisposed at Madrid, and desired to be at once removed to his beloved Escorial. So severe was his illness that it was necessary to bear him thither slowly in a litter. Six days were spent in conveying the stricken monarch over the eight leagues from Madrid to the palace among the Guadarrama Mountains.

For fifty days the king lay in suffering. It was his wish to see every part of the building before he died, and he was borne slowly through the palace, the church, the convent, and the college. Philip was patient and resigned in the contemplation of the last hour of his life. He evinced his zeal in piety to the end, and ordered the release of certain prisoners as a final act of mercy. When death approached, the king asked that the prince and Isabella might attend at his bedside, and to them he exhorted holiness, and spoke of the vanity of ambition and the insecurity of power. On September 13 Philip II. partook of the last sacrament, and passed away.

So died the Founder of the Escorial, and the initiator of the great work which the Spanish people claimed as one of the chief wonders of the world. He had lived to see the realisation of his desire. Year by year he had watched the development of his plans, the building of the monastery, the uplifting of the church, and the establishment of a court and a college in this remote Castilian highland. The hours of his retirement had been devoted to the gratification of his taste in the arts, to contemplation, and to penance. Like Solomon, he had surrounded himself with objects of priceless worth, and he passed his days in an atmosphere of beauty. Æsthetic, and at the same time ascetic, Philip seemed possessed of a dual nature in which rival forces constantly contended. If his mind was marked by gloom, it was relieved by his passion for art and by his love of the simple pleasures of a country life. Nor was the king apparently devoid of a capacity for enjoying occasionally the conventional gaieties of life, for among his numerous retinue, he maintained a fool, or royal jester, one Miguel D’Antona, a grotesque dwarf, with an ugly, humorous countenance.

The Escorial was a royal hobby. But for us it is something more, for it illustrates in divers ways the thought, fancy, and idiosyncrasy of an enigmatic personality. And more than this, the building instructs us in the temper of a memorable age, profound in faith, zealous in patriotism, and conspicuous in martial valour. An inspection of the Escorial is as the reading of a long and remarkable chapter in the history of Spain.

In accordance with his father’s wishes, Philip III. began to build the present burial-vaults soon after his accession to the throne. He did not live to see the completion of the work, which was continued during the reign of Philip IV. The construction was, however, delayed through the attitude of the overseer of the works, who objected to the expenditure of so large a sum of money from the national exchequer; but under the monk Nicolas, the Panteon was at length made ready, in 1654, for the reception of the coffins of members of the royal families.

‘No monarchs of the earth,’ writes a chronicler, ‘have a mausoleum comparable to this of the Escorial, which to the glory of Spain was conceived by Charles V., undertaken by Philip II., carried on by Philip III., and completed by Philip IV.’

The second devastating fire at the Escorial broke out in 1671, and was supposed to have been caused by the fall of a rocket during a firework exhibition, following upon a day of rejoicing. The English translator of the works of Francisco de los Santos states that the fire ‘ruined and destroyed’ the edifice, but this is an exaggeration, though the damage was very great. It is said that the flames were not quenched for fifteen days, and that the peal of bells was melted. The queen-regent, Anne of Austria, restored the Escorial in 1676, and provided it with a new set of bells.

Another disaster might have befallen the Monasterio in 1755, when Lisbon was levelled by the great earthquake, but, fortunately, only a shock was perceived by the inmates of the building.

Charles III. made a few additions to the Escorial, and his son proposed the addition of a bull-ring; but the king, upon hearing of this project, forbade the work, and the prince contented himself with erecting a caseta or villa, which was named de Abajo.

It was at the Escorial that Charles IV. unearthed a plot concocted by the queen, Godoy, and Prince Fernando, with the object of betraying Spain to France. The prince was placed in confinement at the Monastery, and his tutor and other members of the royal household were also imprisoned. It is probable that Canon Escoiquiz, one of the Court, was in treaty with Napoleon’s representatives. Fernando was tried and pardoned, though his part in the conspiracy seemed to admit of no doubt.

In 1807 the French troops stormed the Monasterio, which was defended by the priest Ruiz, who lost his life in the assault. The monks were expelled by the French, but allowed to occupy an adjacent building. Terrible pillage succeeded the capture of the Escorial, and much of its treasure was looted and sent to France. After the Peace the brethren returned to the Monastery, and the French restored some of the plundered works of art.

There was a restoration of the building under Ferdinand VII., the completion of the work being celebrated on the day of San Lorenzo. Upon the death of the king many of the pictures were transferred from the Escorial to Madrid.

In 1846 Isabella II. married her cousin, Francisco de Assisi, at the Escorial, and upon the same day her sister was united to the Duc de Montpensier.

During the cholera epidemic at Madrid, in 1856, the inmates of the Escorial were almost free from the disease, proving beyond doubt that the position of the place among the mountains is extremely healthy. In the summer of 1861 the first train from Madrid arrived at the Escorial.

There are several historians of the Real Monasterio. Friar Juan was probably the first writer on the subject, though his Memoirs, written in 1596, have not been printed. Father SigÜenza prepared a chronicle of the Escorial in 1605; and in 1698 a work was issued by Jimenez; Santos also wrote in the same year. Ponz was the chronicler in 1788. After a lapse of thirty years, Bermejo wrote upon the building, and since 1843 the historians have been Alvarez, Madoy, Ramajo, and Rotondo. The last writer took extreme pains in collecting an immense amount of information upon the Escorial and its history. His huge volume, which appeared in Madrid about 1863, is a classic upon the subject.

Among the earlier writers, perhaps the most interesting is Franciso de los Santos, whose work was published in Madrid in 1681, under the title, Descripcion del Real Monasterio de San Lorenzo del Escorial.