MONFORTE, or, to give it its full name, Monforte de Lemus, in the province of Lugo, was our next halting-place after we left Orense. The population of Orense is under five thousand, and there is, besides the Jesuit College, nothing in the modern town to recommend it to the visitor’s attention beyond the fact that it gives its name to an important railway junction, by which communication is carried from Galicia to Madrid and the rest of Spain. We decided, however, to spend one night there that we might have time to visit the fourteenth-century tower with dungeons below it that crowns the mediÆval citadel, the remnant of the palace of the Counts of Lemos, and the neighbouring Benedictine convent with its handsome church of San Vicente del Pino, bearing the date 1539.

Two professors conducted us through the various public apartments of the Jesuit College. They showed us with pride a painting of St. Francis of Assisi by Greco[279] (and bearing his signature), which is said to be finer than the one that is so highly prized in the Madrid Gallery. St. Francis wears a grey robe and cowl, and holds a skull in his hand, and another monk with hands clasped is looking up to his face as he listens to his words. We next visited the church; there our attention was drawn to the famous reredos of carved wood, said to be the work of the great Gallegan wood-carver Francisco Moure. Every niche is filled with an exquisitely carved group representing some well-known Biblical scene. Moure died before this work was completed, and it was finished by his son. Among their many precious relics the Jesuits were particularly anxious that we should note the skull of the second Pope, and other valuable relics. They then took us to see their fine cloister, which dates from the year 1600, and was planned by Herrera, the architect of the Escurial. The whole college is well built, and stands in extensive grounds; its faÇade is imposing, especially from the train windows. This college was intended by its founder to draw students from all parts of Spain, and to be one of the principal centres of learning in the country.

We were now conducted to the neighbouring convent of Santa Clara, and our guide requested the nuns to show the remarkable collection of relics which they were known to possess. But these ladies, who interviewed us from behind a double grating of iron bars, refused point-blank to allow the eyes of the uninitiated to rest even for a moment on their sacred treasures. “Here is a little book,” said the Lady Superior, “in which you will find a list of our relics,” and she handed it to me through the thick bars that separated her and her companions from the outside world. I brought the book away with me, and read in it later that the convent in question had been founded by SeÑora DoÑa Catalina de Sandoval y Roja, of whom the convent possessed a full-length portrait. She was the wife of Don Pedro Fernandez de Castro, seventh Count of Lemos.[280] This pious dame exerted her every effort to endow her convent with a fine collection of relics. She was by birth a Neapolitan princess, and Pope Paul V. granted her a Bull allowing all the “archbishops, bishops and abbots of the Kingdom of Naples to give to her new convent any relics they might have in their churches.” On receipt of the Bull, DoÑa Catalina’s husband had lost no time in sending letters to all the church dignitaries of Naples to notify them that they might now send what relics they liked to Monforte. Four trusty Capuchin monks bore the letters to Italy, and returned laden with relics, which they handed over to DoÑa Catalina, with the letters in which the archbishops and bishops replied to Count Pedro. Some of these divines excused themselves, saying that their relics were so small that they were not worth sending, but others sent a great many from their rich collections. All the relics that were thus accumulated were deposited, with the letters that accompanied them, in the convent of Santa Clara, in August 1703.

Looking through the list of relics given in the book, I noted that there were among them,—several pieces of the true Cross, in golden cases; a nail from the Cross in a crystal case; a thorn from the Crown of Thorns; a little piece of the sheet in which the body of Christ was wrapped; a little piece of the Virgin’s veil; a bone from the body of St. Paul; a fragment of the column to which Christ was bound; a bit of cloth stained with the blood of John the Baptist; a drop of milk from the Virgin’s breast; a tooth of St. Catherine, and a drop of milk (that was drawn from her breast by the knife of her executioner); a bone from the body of Pope Gregory; the heads of six of the eleven thousand virgins (English maidens) who fled from Cornwall with St. Ursula. There was a long list of other heads, or rather skulls, of saints, and this was followed by a long list of bodies, some complete, some incomplete; then came a still longer list of bones, arm bones, shin bones, and every other kind of bone. I could not help feeling, as I turned over page after page, that the nuns of Santa Clara were wise after all in refusing to expose their museum of human remains to the curiosity of passing strangers.

The modern part of Monforte, on the plain beneath the citadel, with its wide streets lined with black poplars and its clay-built houses, is much more like a Castillian than a Gallegan town; in fact, to my eyes, so long accustomed to narrow streets and the granite houses of Galicia, Monforte presented a strange and novel contrast. Monforte is built out round its citadel like a spider’s web. I do not know any town except Carlsruhe to which I can compare it.

The province of Lugo, the fourth and last division of Galicia with which we have to deal, lies to the north of Orense, and is itself bounded on the north by the Bay of Biscay, with a coast-line of sixty Spanish miles. The province of Lugo is very mountainous, but in its centre there are fertile plains and valleys watered by innumerable rivers and streams; the most important of which is our old acquaintance the river MiÑo, which has its source in a spring near the town of Lugo. The Ulla and the Eo also have their rise in this province, the latter being the natural boundary between Lugo and Oviedo.

Lugo, the chief town of the province of Lugo, was our next stopping place after Monforte. The railway station is on the plain, but Lugo stands upon a hill, and is still surrounded by an ancient wall which dates from the days of the Romans. This wall, with its many bastions and semicircular towers built of massive granite, must have been a fine sight during the Middle Ages, for it is still one of the finest ruins of its kind in the whole of the Peninsula. Molina wrote in the sixteenth century that the walls of Lugo were one of the marvels of Spain, and so wide that two carriages could drive abreast round their entire circuit, and crowned by so many towers that there was one at every eighth step. He adds that when Lugo was at the height of her splendour each of these towers contained living-rooms, and was inhabited by a watchman whose duty it was to guard the town. “Even now,” he continues, “each tower has still many windows, and pieces of the old window-panes are often picked up near them; the glass was very thick and white.” Molina also speaks of some ancient Roman baths which were mentioned by Pliny, and which he considers to be the oldest baths in Spain—more than a thousand years old. “How strange,” he remarks, “that though the springs are only forty steps distant from the river MiÑo, their water is quite hot; such a difference of temperature within such a small space is marvellous.”

Like Monforte, Lugo is built upon a hill rising in the midst of a plain. The ancient Romans made this town the centre of their administration of Galicia; they kept two cohorts of the Seventh Legion stationed here, and it was an important point of defence against the attacks of unsubdued native tribes. Within the walls there are to-day twenty-nine streets and several fine squares, but the town spreads far beyond the walls, and there are quite as many inhabitants dwelling outside. In the days of the Romans, Lugo was known as Augusta Lucus. Tradition tells us that the Romans found a Celtic town there, and although we have as yet no actual proof of this, we know for a certainty that the ancient Celts had a god called Lugus or Lug (gen. Loga). Jubainville thinks that the name of Louth in Ireland is derived from Lugus. This deity was supposed to be a god with a human form; the same authority cites five continental towns thought to have derived their names from the same source, but he does not seem to have noticed that of Lugo in Galicia.[281]

Such was the importance of Lugo under the Romans in the time of Pliny, that more than a hundred and sixty-six free persons are said to have come to Lugo to act as judges in public causes. When the Sueves made themselves masters of Galicia in the fourth and fifth centuries, they made Lugo the centre of their government, and their kings held their Court there. During the days of the Goths the town lost its former greatness, and was reduced till its only importance was that which it gained from being the seat of a Catholic bishopric. During the Arab invasion even the churches of Lugo suffered destruction, the inhabitants were scattered, and her bishop was taken prisoner; but in 740 King Alfonso I. came to Lugo and began restorations. After the death of this king, Bishop Odoario continued the work that had been begun.

During the sixth century Lugo was for some time the seat of a Metropolitan. At a Church Council held at Braga in 572, Nitigisco, the bishop, signed himself Metropolitan of Lugo. Several important Church Councils were also held at Lugo. In the days of her Metropolitan importance, Lugo had no less than fourteen churches under her sway, and these comprised a very large territory. Her power and influence were great; she watched over the public peace, she helped the cities when they were attacked by outside foes, and encouraged them to strengthen their bulwarks; her powers over the interests of the citizen were almost regal for more than a century, though the people were never unanimous in their approval of so much power being vested in the Church, and the nobles were continually struggling to throw off the yoke of the Mitre.[282]

When and how Lugo lost the dignity of being a Metropolitan See is not known, but it was some time between 1095 and 1113, during the Pontificate of Calixtus II. Another honour which was conceded to this town in the remote past, and which she still retains, was the remarkable privilege of exposing continually the Sacrament of the Eucharist upon the chief altar of her Cathedral. The exact origin of this privilege has been sought in vain, but those who have looked into the matter most carefully are of the opinion that it probably dates from the Council of Lugo held in 569, and that it was established as a protest against the heresy of Priscillian, which threatened at that time to dominate Galicia. AcuÑa, in his HistoriÆ Eclesiastica de los Arzobispos de Braga, has the following passage: “Por que na mesma Cidade em algum destes dous Concileos se decretou É estableceu À verdadeira prescenÇa de Chisto Noso Deus neste Divinissimo È Altisimo Sacramento À quem os hereges d’aquelle tempo tanto contradiziao.”[283] An early reference to the exposition of the Sacrament at Lugo occurs in a document bearing the date 1130, which states that the Divine Mysteries were celebrated nocturnÆ diurnis temporibus in the Cathedral at Lugo. And in 1621 the Bishop of Lugo wrote to Pope Gregory XV. that they had had “on the chief altar of the Cathedral the most holy Sacrament ever since the time of the condemnation of the heretics.”

From other ancient documents it is known that the Host was exposed in a crystal box, and in such a manner that it could be seen by every one who entered the cathedral. Large sums of money were contributed from time to time by the kings and princes of Galicia in connection with this privilege. A Count of Lemos gave, in 1672, a donation of seventy pounds weight of gold. In March 1669 a decree was passed that the Kingdom of Galicia should contribute 1500 ducats annually, and in later years the State assigned an annual payment of 15,000 pesetas towards the expenses of this privilege to Lugo. There still exists in the archives of Lugo a document bearing the date 1734, in which the King of Spain conceded an annual payment of 400 pesetas from the Kingdom of New Spain towards the veneration of the Holy Sacrament of the Cathedral of Lugo. The most recent event in this connection occurred in 1897, when on 18th June the Pope granted to the Lugo clergy the privilege of celebrating the Holy Sacrament every Thursday throughout the year, except the Thursdays which should fall upon Feast Days.

Until quite recently the glass case containing the consecrated bread of the Eucharist stood upon a curious altar stone—an Obsidian stone said to have been brought from South America; the stone is now kept in the sacristy. On examination of it, I found that it had the appearance of a small block of black marble, but was in reality a block of volcanic glass; it reflected my face like a mirror.

In 1772 the Archbishop of Saragossa presented Lugo with an exquisitely worked casket studded with precious stones, and in this the Sacrament was manifested until a thief got into the Cathedral and stole it on 8th December 1854. Another casket was thereupon provided by public subscription; it was the work of the famous artist Ramirez de Arellano, and has been in use since 3rd May 1859. It is a very beautiful piece of work in the plateresque style, representing Faith triumphant over Heresy, containing a chalice covered with diamonds, emeralds, and other precious stones, amongst which there are no less than fifteen hundred specimens of the topaz.

Molina mentions a possible connection between the continual exposition of the Sacrament at Lugo and the suppression of Arianism, but he adds that he has heard of a more likely explanation, namely, that at one time all the cathedrals in Spain shared the privilege of Lugo, but that after the invasion of the Moors Lugo was the only privileged cathedral, because she alone had not been desecrated by the common enemy. In another place Molina describes the arms of Galicia as “a chalice containing the Host, because Galicia alone was not conquered by the Moors.”

Lugo Cathedral was begun in 1129 in accordance with a plan prepared by Raimundo de Monforte, whose son succeeded him in the superintendence of the work. According to the best authorities, the Cathedral is, in the main, a copy of that of Santiago de Compostela, but a copy on a much simpler scale. As Lamperez points out, its low naves do not run into the naves of the transept, and the latter has barrel vaultings. The whole architecture of this edifice shows a vacillation, a wavering of conception which has produced a strange mixture of style,—bordering on originality; this very result is in itself a curious study. Here we see all the changes of style that occurred between the beginning of the twelfth and the middle of the nineteenth century. Villa-Amil calls it a compendium of the history of architecture.[284] In the arms of the transept we have the Romanesque style, and it is also seen in the vaulting of the lateral naves: in the rest of the naves we have a fine example of the Transition, and in the head of the church we have an important example of the Gothic style as it was interpreted in Galicia—the Gallegan Gothic. The Capilla del Pilar and the lateral portico furnish us with good examples of the plateresque style, so also do the two large retablos at the ends of the transept. The upper portion of the lower is GrÆco-Roman, of the earliest period of its restoration; while the sacristy and the wood-carving of the choir stalls are in the decadent taste of Philip IV.’s day. The Chapel of Our Lady of the Large Eyes is a sumptuous example of the Borrominesque, and the principal faÇade exhibits an interesting example of the bad taste of the second period of the Restoration. The whole is a remarkably harmonious mixture of all the mediÆval styles, but the transept is too narrow and too dark. Although that part of the town which is within the walls is mostly on the same level, the Cathedral stands in a slight hollow, so that its domination of the eminence on which the town is built is less complete than it should have been. Instead of standing out like our York Cathedral, it seems to be oppressed and choked by the surrounding streets and houses.

The lateral faÇade possesses considerable architectural interest; it has a Gothic portico, the vaulting of which is richly ribbed. The double doors are within a Romanesque archway, over which there hangs, like a medallion, an archaic statue of Christ, quite Byzantine in the position of the feet, and with a stone halo veseca piscis, and a crown and a cruciform nimbus. This statue reminds me strongly of the figure of King David to be seen in the Puerta de las Platerias at Santiago. The lintel of the door is composed of two semicircular arches, with a Latin inscription on the pendant.

The beautiful wood-carving of the choir stalls is by Francisco Moure of Orense, the artist of the famous reredos in the Jesuit College at Monforte. Risco speaks of these stalls in “EspaÑa Sagrada” as the most beautifully carved stalls in the kingdom; they are famous for the good taste displayed in their design, as well as for the actual beauty of their execution. Cean BermÚdez was another who praised them exceedingly. Villa-Amil tells us that their cost was five thousand ducats.

Until the fourteenth century none but bishops were interred within this Cathedral; even the greatest nobles had to lie in the cemetery. The most interesting bit of sculpture within the edifice is the marble sarcophagus of Froila, which was moved from its original place in the Capilla del Pilar about thirty years ago; it has a prismatic cover with a triangular base, and its ornamentation is funicular. On its front is a curious piece of bas-relief, representing a naked corpse suspended in a grave-cloth held by two angels, while the Eternal Father is represented in the clouds above touching the body with His right hand and giving it His blessing. At the head of the sarcophagus, on the cover, there is a quaint figure of a seated monk engaged in reading.

In the lateral naves there are some elegant Romanesque windows (now closed up), and the capitals beneath the arches are adorned with interesting sculpture; here the chess pattern ornamentation is very much in evidence.

In a handsome eighteenth-century chapel adorned with stone arabesques and crowned with a cupola, built in the year 1726, is to be seen the curious stone statue known as “the Virgin with the Large Eyes”—Virgen de los Ojos Grandes—which St. James is said to have left at Lugo when he founded the original Cathedral. It is supposed to be the oldest image in Spain after that of the Virgen del Pilar, at Saragossa. The Virgin holds a Child in her arms. I did not think her eyes unnaturally large. Villa-Amil says that it takes fourteen men to move this statue: it now stands upon an elaborate Churrigueresque throne. The Virgin’s crown sparkles with precious stones; it is a comparatively new one, and was placed upon her head by the Bishop of Lugo about three years ago.

The Convent of San Francisco, at Lugo, is said to have been founded by St. Francis of Assisi when he was returning home after his pilgrimage to the sepulchre of St. James. The cloister of the present building bears the date 1452, and an inscription on the arch which separates the central nave from the right arm of the transept tells us that the church was not completed earlier than 1510. The plan of the church is a Latin cross, or, as Villa-Amil calls it, a tau, for the cross has practically no head, only a poligonal apse with two smaller apses, one on either side. This kind of apse is rather rare. Street compared them to those of the Frari in Venice, and wrote of them as follows: “These apses are remarkable for having an angle in the centre, whilst their windows have a bar of tracery across them, transom fashion, at mid height. It is certainly a very curious coincidence that in both these particulars it resembles closely the fine church of the Frari at Venice.” Villa-Amil reminds us, however, that the apses of Santo Domingo at Ribadavia have the same angle. All three apses are covered with fan-shaped vaulting, the ribs of which rest upon side columns. The interior of this church was originally decorated with frescoes, and the remains of them are still to be seen: as frescoes are very rare in Spain, they are rather noteworthy. In each of the apses there are two curious sepulchral arches; these are both Gothic. The statues of several of them have been destroyed, but there are still three effigies of knights in full armour.

With regard to the cloister of this monastery, Villa-Amil declares that it has not its equal either in Spain or anywhere else. It is a strange mixture of the Gothic and Romanesque styles, but the latter predominates throughout. The nearest approach to it in Galicia is the cloister of Tojosutos, near Noya.[285] It is indeed sad to think of the way in which this interesting monastery has been neglected, and to note the state of dilapidation into which it has been allowed to fall. The fact is that the town of Lugo seems to have got left behind in the race for civilisation and improvement; she has fallen out of the beaten track, and life and energy have gone from her. Even her beautiful Cathedral gives the visitor an impression of neglect, if not of decay; and this may in some way account for the erroneous impression that George Borrow received of it. “The Cathedral church itself is a small, mean building,” ... he wrote. I am convinced that if Borrow had entered the Cathedral but for a moment he could never have described it as either small or mean. But we must remember, too, the remarkable fact that neither Ford nor Borrow had any eye for architecture. Carrying their writings with me, and reading their descriptions on the spot, I was continually astounded at their utter blindness in this respect. Borrow was right, however, when he wrote: “It is singular enough that Lugo, at present a place of very little importance, should at one period have been the capital of Spain.”

Another interesting monastery is that of Santo Domingo, which is now inhabited by some nuns of the Augustine Order. This also is a mixture of Romanesque and Early Gothic.

Lugo contains many traces of the old Roman days, but she has as yet no museum to shelter them. Her Roman inscriptions have many of them been built into the town walls at various periods of its restoration. Many persons still repair to her medicinal baths for the cure of scrofulous disease, and within the bathing-house part of the wall of the Roman baths described by Pliny may still be seen. According to Barros Sivelo, there are also some remains of the Roman prison, but I had not time to search for these.

The province of Lugo is said to be the most rainy part of Galicia, which is saying a great deal, seeing that Galicia is the most rainy part of Spain. The streets of Lugo are constantly enveloped in an impenetrable white mist during about eight months of the year; but when the sun does shine, there are splendid views to be obtained on all sides.

In the year 1896 a great Roman Catholic gathering took place at Lugo under the title of “Second Spanish Eucharistic Congress.”[286] Numerous religious meetings were held under its auspices, at which there were often more than six thousand people. Church dignitaries from many parts of Europe attended this Congress, and the printed account of the proceedings, of the speeches made and the papers read, form a bulky volume. Alas, that after such a revival Lugo should have once more fallen back into her former state of inertia!

From our hotel window we overlooked the principal square of the town with its tree-encircled fountain in the centre. One side of the square is taken up by the handsome Casa de Ayuntamiento or municipal buildings, which have a handsome eighteenth-century front and a high clock tower which is one of the principal architectural ornaments of the town. The front windows of the first storey rest upon an arcade of eight arches which forms a cool shelter from the blazing sun in summer and a protection from the ceaseless rains of winter. A funeral party crossed the square on the afternoon of our arrival at Lugo, and we looked down upon a procession composed of forty men, each carrying a lighted candle. Before them was carried a black banner preceded by two crosses raised aloft upon black poles. The coffin was borne by four men, while two more on either side held on to a black ribbon, or streamer, the other end of which was attached to a corner of the coffin. Six priests followed the coffin, singing as they went. Behind the priests came a crowd of poor people, including many women and children.

The next morning we looked out upon a bright and busy scene, for it was Lugo’s market day, and the people from all the neighbouring villages had come in to sell their wares. Baskets of oranges, local cheeses, and onions attracted our attention. Amongst the crowd women walked about with pitchers of water balanced sideways on their heads, not with brass-bound pails as in other parts of Galicia.

After our second visit to the Cathedral we passed through a gateway in the old Roman wall over which there was a figure of St. James on horseback, and soon found ourselves in the more modern part of the town. A wide carriage road encircles the walls, and the circuit makes a pleasant drive in fine weather.

About fifty kilometres distant from Lugo, in a green valley surrounded on all sides by mountains, lies the town of MondoÑedo. This town is not without its interest to students of Galicia, but as there is no railway to it, tourists seldom find their way thither. The Cathedral of San Martin at MondoÑedo is said to date from the year 1114. The sacristy is decorated with interesting frescoes about which a good deal has been written. It has three naves divided by Corinthian columns, and its form is that of a Latin cross, within which are no less than twenty altars, the largest of which is dedicated to San Rosando, and was consecrated in 1462. A cloister joins the Cathedral to the episcopal palace. Above the principal faÇade, which is in the Corinthian style, rise two fine bell towers.