UNLIKE most folk who enter the country from the north, I left Burgos for the end of my last visit to Spain, and found it in a way not unlike Cadiz, the first place I arrived at. They are both clean cities—for Spain; the streets in both are narrow, and the houses tall with double-glazed balconies. There is but little traffic in either, the squares in both are numerous, but the resemblance stops at this. The streets of Burgos run east and west in lines more or less parallel with the river ArlanzÓn. They are draughty and cold. The city stands 2785 feet above sea level and the winds sweep down from the distant sierra in bitter blasts. The life of Burgos is eminently ecclesiastical with a large sprinkling of the military element, for here all three branches of the service are quartered. It is a quiet place and I worked in peace unmolested.

What a pity the builders of the great Cathedral could not find another site whereon to erect their wonderful church. How much better it would have looked if placed on the flat ground near the river than on the spot where a summer palace of Gonzalez once stood. However, one cannot move mountains and I was perforce obliged to plant my easel on the slope of the hill and paint the stock view from in front of the west faÇade.

In 1075 Alfonso VI. moved the Archiepiscopal See from Oca to Burgos and gave the site of the royal palace for its erection. The present edifice was founded in 1221 by Ferdinand el Santo on the occasion of his marriage with Beatrice of Swabia, who in her train brought the Englishman, Bishop Maurice. Employing a French architect, Maurice was more or less responsible for the present building, though another foreigner, John of Cologne, added the beautiful open work spires with their parapets to the towers of the west end. It is curious that this, the most richly ornate Cathedral in the country, should be the outcome of patronage of the foreigner, though at the same time it is the most Spanish of the three "foreign" Cathedrals. So rich is this magnificent Church in every style of architectural decoration that it would take a lifetime to know it thoroughly.

John of Cologne's beautiful spires are better than those at Leon and Oviedo, and rise with the towers that support them to a height close on 300 ft. The gorgeous central lantern, with its twelve traceried pinnacles, the grace of those that surmount the Constable's Chapel, the many, many others that break the skyline and adorn this glorious fabric, all go to make it a building that, despite the different styles employed, will be a wonder and a joy as long as man's handiwork lasts.

The lower portion of the west front was renewed in 1790. The Puerta Principal in the centre is flanked by two small doors, with reliefs of the Conception and Crowning of the Virgin, while the chief door has four statues of Ferdinand el Santo, Alfonso VI., and Bishops Oca and Maurice. Large Gothic windows occupy the third stage of the front, their bases being filled with statues. The central stage, which has a single arch, contains a splendid rose window. The upper portion of the two towers is occupied by very beautiful perforated double windows in which crochet decoration is profusely used. It is altogether a wonderful faÇade which I greatly wished could be seen from the level.

The chief entrance on the north is closed. It is on the street, and through it the descent into the north transept is by the well-known Escalada Dorada. The early Gothic portal—Puerta alta—is adorned by statues and with the whole of this faÇade is one of the earliest portions of the Cathedral. The door, which on this side leads into the Cathedral, is the Puerta de la Pellejeria and opens on to the north-east angle of the transept below the Golden Staircase.

On the south the Puerta del Sarmental is approached from the street by three tiers of steps, it is also part of the original Gothic and is decorated with statues and coats-of-arms. Above it rises a similar faÇade to that of the north transept. The arcading in both these faÇades is most beautiful and from some points, where the roof-line can be seen cutting the sky, they look like two towers surmounted by an elegant balustrade. Very probably the pitch of the roofs was intended to be higher, and the building of the central lantern has interfered with the original design.

The nave of pure early Gothic is lofty but sadly spoilt by the height of the coro. The aisles are low, but very beautiful. The cimborio runs up in double stages with windows in each and balustrades, it is a perfect maze of intricate design and fine carving. The walls are covered with the royal arms of Charles V. and the City of Burgos; there are figures of patriarchs and prophets standing in the niches, seraphim and angels occupy the recesses of the spandrils, and the beautiful groining of this superb octagon is quite unmatched anywhere in Spain. It all looks as if just finished, the stone is white and in perfect preservation. How my neck used to ache when looking aloft, unweaving the intricacies of that splendid interior! To strengthen the Cathedral and support the weight of this addition, the original piers were altered at the crossing, and the huge cylindrical columns, which are richly chased with Renaissance decoration, substituted. One can hardly say that Juan de Vallejo has spoilt the church by this octagon, for his work here would grace any building, but all the same I think the Gothic of the interior has suffered by the introduction of his designs, and I would sooner have seen the crossing in its original state.

BURGOS. THE CAPILLA MAYOR
BURGOS. THE CAPILLA MAYOR

The triforium is composed of wide bays with an uneven number of closed lights in each. A single arch, the mouldings of which are surmounted by carved heads, spans each group.

The clerestory contains a little modern glass, most of the old having been destroyed by a powder explosion in the fort on the hill above.

In the coro the silleria are exquisitely carved; the main panels represent subjects from the New Testament, the lower, which are divided by pilasters with arabesques, represent scenes of martyrdom. Philip Vigarni, who was responsible for this fine coro, surpassed himself in some of its decoration, which adds one more item to all that ought to be thoroughly studied in the great Cathedral.

On the north side of the High Altar, in front or which hangs a magnificent silver lamp, are the tombs of three of the Infantes of Castile. Behind this, the trassagrario is covered with well-executed reliefs in white stone, some of this is very soft and has crumbled away a good deal. Every morning a deposit of dust is swept up and it will soon be necessary to thoroughly restore these fine panels or the designs will be lost for ever. They represent the Agony in the Garden, our Lord bearing the Cross, the Crucifixion, the Descent, the Resurrection and the Ascension. The three centre are by Vigarni, and the others by Alfonso de los Rios.

Nearly all the chapels are replete with interest, be it architecture, tombs, pictures or relics, but of them all the Capilla del Condestable is the grandest. Built in 1487 by John of Cologne for the Hereditary Constable of Castile, Don Pedro Fernandez de Velasco, it is the private property of the Duque de Frias. The reja, the masterpiece of Cristobal Andino, bears date MDXXIII. and is certainly the finest in the Cathedral. It is a worthy entrance to this magnificent octagon, which, viewed from outside, rises detached from the main building with eight elaborate pinnacles pointing heavenwards. The tracery of the pierced ceiling of the Lantern with its gilded bosses, vies in intricacy with that of the Cathedral itself. There is a double clerestory with sculptured knights at the bases of the columns holding coloured metal banners. The undercutting of the mouldings in the arches is very marvellous, the lowest course is formed of detached figures hanging downwards and from a little distance off looks like a piece of lacework. In front of the retablo and High Altar are the superbly sculptured tombs of the Constable and his wife. He is in full armour, she lies by his side on a richly embroidered cushion with her little lap-dog nestling comfortably in the folds of her robe near her feet. The chapel teems with interest; the wealth of red marble from the quarries of Atapuerca and the very effective chequer arrangement of black and white steps leading to the High Altar give it just the note of colour its whiteness otherwise would lack.

Attached to the chapel is a small vestry entered through a diminutive plateresque doorway of exquisite design. Amongst other priceless relics the vestry contains a fine gold chalice studded with precious stones and a good Madonna by Luini.

Another fine picture, a Virgin and Child by Sebastian del Piombo, hangs over the altar in the Capilla de La Presentacion. In the Capilla del Santissimo Cristo is a very ancient crucifix of life-sized proportions. Tradition and the vergers say that it came from the East and was carved by Nicodemus. The figure is flexible and very attenuated, it is covered with a buff-coloured leather to represent dried flesh and is very gruesome. In San Juan de Sahagun are six panels of the fifteenth century; good specimens of the early Spanish school, they represent the Nativity, Adoration and four scenes from the Passion.

The great Bishop Alfonso de Cartagena lies interred in the Capilla de San Enrique, and his tomb is remarkably fine. Others in this chapel and in the cloisters are cut in slate and have been worked with great cleverness considering the way in which a blow splinters this material so easily.

The Chapel of Santa Ana, unfortunately restored recently, belongs to the Duque de Abrantes, and contains the best retablo in the Cathedral. On it are displayed incidents in the Life of Christ which spring from and are enclosed by the branches of a genealogical tree. It is a quaint idea very well carried out.

It is a difficult task to try and give an idea of the contents and admirable style of all these chapels in the space of a short chapter, suffice it to say that they are, one and all, worthy pendants to the rest of the great church, and exemplify in their contents the glorious age of the ruling bishops and nobility of Old Castile.

In the south transept is a wonderful low doorway in front of which I had often stood examining the well-carved wooden panels on the doors themselves. It leads into the cloisters, but it was not until I had become thoroughly acquainted with the groups representing the Entry into Jerusalem and the Descent into Hades which grace this portal, that I passed through. The door dates from the early fifteenth century and considering the many thousands of times it has swung open and shut is in most excellent preservation.

The cloisters are fourteenth-century work and form an upper storey to a basement cloister of low arches surrounding a courtyard which at the time of my visit was undergoing extensive repair. In the centre is a huge cross; the flagstones of the court were all up, and the bones from many disturbed graves were being thrown into a pit. The beautiful cloisters proper are filled with modern opaque glass—"Muy frio" answered the verger to my question, "Por que?"—and no doubt it is in the winter months. But the charm about a cloister is the vista through the arches; this Burgos has lost for the sake of the well-being of her priests; the pity is that funds would not allow of better glass when the utilitarian aspect demanded the shutting out of the cold winds.

The sacristy on the east side of the cloisters is a very beautiful early fifteenth-century room with a fine groined roof, the peculiarity of which is that it has no supporting columns. The half-piers end in corbels of hunting scenes and I daresay have often recalled to many a priest days of his early boyhood.

The Chapter House, with an artesonade ceiling, contains some good pictures and is reached through the Capilla del Corpus Christi. High up on the wall of this chapel, and fixed to it with iron clamps, is the Cofre del Cid, a wooden coffer which the Campeador filled with sand, and telling the Jews it was full of gold, raised six hundred marks. He redeemed the pledge later on and paid up the sum he had borrowed. The tomb of Enrique III.'s head cook, who is lying in armour with a sword, occupies a space on the floor. He was not a bad-looking man and I daresay took his turn at the enemy and used his sword when occasion offered. Street writes of these cloisters—"I know none more interesting and more varied"—but I left them and the many fine tombs and statues they contain wishing that priests were not mortal nor liable to chills.

BURGOS. ARCH OF SANTA MARIA
BURGOS. ARCH OF SANTA MARIA

The capital of Old Castile is a quiet little place and I felt I was in a northern clime far away from the charm of Andalusia and the south. The name Burgos is of Iberian origin, "Briga" signifying "a fortified hill." Founded as long ago as 884 by Diego de Porcelos, it was for many generations the capital of Castile. At the marriage of Ferdinand I. in 1067 Castile and Leon became one and ten years later the seat of Government was removed by Alfonso VI. to Toledo. Serious troubles ensued between the inhabitants of the two cities. Old Castile could not brook the interference of the great archbishops of New Castile and the loss of prestige attached to royalty and its court.

In Charles V.'s reign Burgos joined the ComunÉros, the opponents of centralised government, but was wisely pardoned with other towns by the King, who held a court in state for this purpose in the Plaza Mayor at Valladolid. As a result of this forgiveness the inhabitants erected the fine entrance gateway of Santa Maria of which I made a sketch. Since that day, except for Wellington's futile sieges, Burgos has slept the sleep of the just and being an eminently ecclesiastical city will continue in this happy state.

Much of interest lies tucked away in the narrow streets. There is the Casa del Cordon, at one time the palace of the Velasco family, and a royal residence. Within its walls the Catholic Kings received Columbus on his return from the New World, and here was signed the incorporation of Navarre with Castile. This fine example of a town house is flanked by two square towers, with a rope from which it takes its name carved over the portal. The Casa de Miranda, with a noble courtyard and well-proportioned fluted columns, near which is the Casa de Angulo a strong fortress-like building. The faÇade of the old Collegio de San Nicolas is replete with fine workmanship and the church of this name with tombs. The richly-carved stone retablo, illustrating events of the saint's life, is also a work of real art. Under the wall of the cemetery stood the house wherein the Cid was born, and in the Castle on the hill, now a ruin, he was married. The nuptials of Edward I. of England with Eleanor of Castile were celebrated in this fortress, which can also claim the birth of Pedro the Cruel.

For a provincial town Burgos possesses a most interesting museum. Among the many relics I saw was a bronze altar font with coloured enamels of saints and a Moorish ivory casket, both from the monastery of San Domingo de Silos. The fine kneeling figure in alabaster of Juan de Padilla, who lost his life at an early age during one of the sieges of Granada, is almost as beautiful as that of the Infante Alfonso in the Cartuja. Roman and mediÆval remains, found at different times and taken from disestablished convents, added to the interest of a short visit. There is so much to see in Burgos and its surroundings, and the seeing of it all is so pleasant, so undisturbed, and so different to the south, where for ever I was annoyed by touting loafers and irrepressible boys, that when I left it was with feelings of great regret.

Across the river, about an hour's walk one morning brought me to the Convent of Las Huelgas, which is still inhabited by shy nuns. Founded in 1187 by Alfonso VIII. it has always loomed large in the history of Castile. Many of her kings have kept vigil before the High Altar, when receiving knighthood, our own Edward I. among them. Many royal pairs have been wedded within the church, and many sleep their long sleep within its quiet precincts. The Abbess was mitred, she possessed powers of life and death, she ranked as a Princess-palatine next to the Queen, and she was styled "Por la gracia de Dios." Her nuns were, and still are, daughters of noble houses, and some even of royal birth. In the chapel of Santiago hangs a copy of the embroidered banner captured at the great fight of Las Navas de Tolosa, a victory which crippled and drove out the Infidel from the north. The original hangs in the nun's choir, a fitting pendant to the splendid tapestries which cover the walls. I was told of other treasures invisible to the eye of man and once again wished I could have changed my sex for a short time. Being mere man, I heard the gate shut as I left the convent with a rather crestfallen feeling, so walked another half-mile on to the Hospital del Rey.

Alfonso VIII. built this Hospice for pilgrims en route to Santiago. But little remains of the original building, though the Renaissance faÇade and thirteenth-century doorway, with curious figures of Adam and Eve, repaid me for my extra trudge and I returned to my hotel with the imagined slight dissipated and my amour propre restored.

My last pilgrimage in Spain happened one cold afternoon when I went out to the Cartuja de Miraflores. The clouds hung low over the hills and the damp smell of autumn was in the air. The road thither passes through avenues of great poplars. The leaves had begun to fall and it was wet under foot. A slight drizzle was imperceptibly saturating everything and I thought the time of my departure from sunny Spain not ill-chosen. Despite all this, and the depressing day, I can always recall with pleasure the road that my companion and I traversed before we passed under the arch that marks the monastic boundary.

Beggars accosted us at the door of the monastery, for once I gave them alms and received a blessing. We passed in, and found ourselves in a pretty little courtyard filled with dahlias and other autumnal flowers. The bright colours cheered us a bit, the church lay on our left, we entered it under a Gothic arch. A monk in the stalls was at prayer, he also kept an observant eye on the two visitors. Our footsteps seemed to sound intensely loud on the stone pavement, and we spoke in very low whispers. The cold white-washed walls and this solitary figure droning out his prayers were depressing.

We furtively admired the finely-carved stalls, the grand retablo over the High Altar with its terribly life-like crucifix, all the time with a feeling on my part of that vigilant eye boring a hole in my back like a gimlet. We next examined the alabaster tomb the masterpiece of Gil de Siloe, executed to the order of Isabella the Catholic, which stands in front of the altar. Juan II. and his wife Isabella of Portugal lie side by side clothed in their robes of state. At his feet are two Lions, at hers a Lion and a Dog. I forgot the solitary monk and the gimlet stopped its work as I became lost in admiration while following the intricacies of Gil de Siloe's greatest production.

At the eight corners of this magnificent tomb, most undoubtedly the finest I have ever seen, and by some considered unsurpassed in Europe, sixteen lions support the royal arms, above them along the cornice beautiful little statuettes stand under canopies which are a marvel of delicate tracery. The embroidery on the robes of the royal pair is exquisite and the imitation of the lace work unsurpassed.

For a long time we stood discussing and admiring the marvellous cleverness of the designer of a monument which is worthy of the great and pious woman who erected it to the memory of her parents.

Hard by in the west wall of the church is the tomb of the Infante Alfonso, whose death at the early age of sixteen left the accession vacant for Isabella and so changed the history of Castile. It is likewise a wonderful piece of work by the same skilful hand. The young Prince kneels alone in an attitude of prayer which gains dignity from the half-shadow thrown by the recess in which the monument is placed. The arch above is decorated with a twining vine, while men-at-arms support the tomb.