Spain

The Carlist Wars

Carlos María Isidro de Borbón and Isabella II (María Isabel Luisa de Borbón y Borbón-Dos Sicilias).

The Carlist Wars (1833–1876) were a series of civil conflicts in Spain that stemmed from a dynastic dispute and broader ideological divisions between traditionalists and liberals. The wars erupted after the death of King Ferdinand VII in 1833, when his daughter, Isabella II (1830-1904), was named queen under the regency of her mother, Maria Christina of the Two Sicilies. This succession was challenged by Carlos María Isidro de Borbón (1788-1855), the king’s younger brother, who claimed the throne based on the principle of male primogeniture. His supporters, known as Carlists, represented a deeply conservative faction that sought to preserve absolute monarchy, regional fueros (traditional rights), and the influence of the Catholic Church.

Opposing the Carlists were the liberal supporters of Isabella II, who aimed to modernize Spain through constitutional monarchy, centralized governance, and secular reforms. The struggle between these factions led to three major Carlist Wars (1833–1840, 1846–1849, and 1872–1876), primarily affecting regions like the Basque Country, Navarra, Catalonia, and Aragón, where Carlist support was strongest.

These wars had a lasting impact on Spain’s political and social landscape, reinforcing deep divisions that persisted well into the 20th century. The Carlist movement continued as a political force even after its military defeat, influencing Spanish conservatism and nationalist movements.

The Mystery of the Bronze Figure Plate at the Museu Episcopal de Vic

MEV 7946 at the Museu Episcopal de Vic.

In one of the display cases in the Museu Episcopal de Vic (MEV) lies a small and enigmatic Iron Age object: a stylized bronze anthropomorphic plate with hanging pendants, catalogued as MEV Inv. 7946. Dated to the 7th–6th century BCE and attributed to the Picene culture of central Italy, this piece has puzzled researchers and raises intriguing questions about trans-Adriatic connections, ritual symbolism, and even its own provenance.

An Unusual Artifact

The bronze object in question takes the form of a schematic human figure: a flat, trapezoidal plate with raised arms, a loop-shaped head, and a series of perforations along the lower edge. These holes are used to attach a set of ritual pendants, including miniatures of hands, axes, spoons, and abstract shapes. Despite its simplicity, the plate radiates symbolic density: the outstretched arms may signify prayer or invocation; the pendants suggest ritual paraphernalia. It is not merely decorative—it is a visual language of power, status, and possibly female priesthood.

A Rare Type from Picenum

Objects of this type are exceedingly rare. Closely comparable pieces have only been securely documented in a few elite tombs from Picenum, a culturally rich region along the Adriatic coast of central Italy (modern-day Marche and Abruzzo). Graves at Montegiorgio, Montambone, and Ascoli Piceno have yielded similar anthropomorphic plaques, often found with women of high status. The distinctive combination of stylized form and symbolic pendants appears to be a Picene cultural signature.

This association is supported by the object's typology, metallurgy, and symbolic language, all of which firmly point to an Adriatic-Italic tradition. Furthermore, no parallels of this type have been found in the northeast of the Iberian Peninsula, including the region of Tarragona—where this object is allegedly said to have been found.

A Problematic Provenance

This brings us to the most confounding aspect of MEV 7946: its provenance. The object entered the museum's collection as part of a group of bronzes said to have been discovered near Tarragona. However, multiple clues cast doubt on this claim:

  • Typological mismatch: The object shares no stylistic, functional, or technological features with Iberian Iron Age bronzes from the region.

  • Cultural singularity: The anthropomorphic figure plate is entirely absent from Iberian archaeological records.

  • Contextual inconsistency: The collection includes a restored fibula (inv. 30) and other items of varied patina and corrosion, suggesting a modern aggregation of separate finds.

  • Trade and antiquarian channels: The early 20th century saw numerous Picene artifacts enter European collections via the antiquities market, often with unclear or falsified findspots.

Together, these factors strongly suggest that MEV 7946 may not have been found in Spain at all, but rather acquired through art dealers or collectors who misattributed—or intentionally obscured—its origin.

Ritual Meaning and Cross-Cultural Echoes

Despite its murky provenance, the object opens a window onto the ritual world of Iron Age elites. The raised arms and pendant symbols resonate with themes of supplication, protection, and magical function. Interestingly, similar symbolic arrangements appear in other Iron Age cultures, such as the Paeonians of the Vardar Valley (in present-day North Macedonia), whose elite women also wore composite ornaments with symbolic danglers. Though unrelated culturally, the convergence suggests widespread visual languages of status and sanctity across Iron Age Europe.

Conclusion

MEV 7946 is a unique artifact with a powerful presence—and an uncertain past. While its design and meaning root it firmly in Picene ritual tradition, its presence in a Spanish collection remains unexplained and increasingly doubtful. Rather than diminishing its significance, this mystery only deepens the object’s allure: a trans-Adriatic ambassador of Iron Age spirituality, displaced in time and space, but still eloquent in bronze.

Its silence speaks volumes.

Berenguela/Berengaria of Castile (1180–1246): The Woman Who United Castile and León

Berenguela/Berengaria of Castile.

Berenguela/Berengaria of Castile, born in 1180, was a royal daughter who became one of the most remarkable political figures in medieval Iberia. As the eldest child of King Alfonso VIII of Castile and Queen Eleanor of England (daughter of Henry II of England and Eleanor of Aquitaine), Berengaria grew up in a court where diplomacy, faith, and power were deeply intertwined. Although she ruled Castile for only a short time, her influence stretched across decades. Through her foresight, personal sacrifice, and political skill, she helped unify Castile and León under her son Ferdinand III—altering the course of Spanish history.

From childhood, Berengaria was treated as a valuable political asset. For several years, she was the presumptive heir to Castile, and at age nine, she was betrothed to Conrad of Swabia, son of the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. The proposed alliance between Castile and the empire was ambitious but ultimately abandoned, likely under pressure from Berengaria’s grandmother, Eleanor of Aquitaine. Conrad’s death in 1196 ended the matter permanently.

The next alliance would prove far more consequential. In 1197, the teenage Berengaria married King Alfonso IX of León—her cousin—in a calculated move to ease tensions between the two rival kingdoms. The union produced five children, including the future Ferdinand III, but it soon drew the disapproval of the Church. Pope Innocent III declared the marriage invalid due to their close blood relationship. Berengaria, however, skillfully negotiated to ensure that their children remained legally recognized as legitimate heirs. After the annulment, she returned to Castile with her children, where she devoted herself to securing their future and maintaining her political independence.

In 1214, following the death of her father, Berengaria's younger brother Henry I became king at just ten years old. Their mother, Queen Eleanor, briefly acted as regent, but died shortly after. Berengaria stepped into the regency but soon faced opposition from Castile’s most powerful noble faction, the House of Lara. Forced to relinquish power in 1215, she quietly withdrew, keeping a close watch as the political situation in Castile grew increasingly unstable.

Tragedy struck two years later. In 1217, King Henry I died in a bizarre accident—a falling roof tile ended his life at age thirteen. Berengaria, understanding the stakes, kept the death secret while she arranged for her son Ferdinand—then living at his father’s court in León—to return to Castile. Once Ferdinand was safely by her side, Berengaria publicly announced her brother’s death and claimed the crown as the rightful heir. But rather than rule herself in an era suspicious of female monarchs, she immediately abdicated in favor of her 18-year-old son. This deliberate and strategic act not only preserved the succession but prevented her former husband Alfonso IX from pressing his own claim. Berengaria’s actions stabilized the kingdom and allowed Ferdinand III to ascend the throne without bloodshed.

Though Berengaria never again wore a crown, she remained deeply involved in her son’s reign. She was his most trusted adviser, helping him manage the kingdom and avoid conflict. She arranged important marriages to strengthen Castile’s alliances, including Ferdinand’s first marriage to Elisabeth of Hohenstaufen, linking Castile to the Holy Roman Empire. After Elisabeth’s death, Berengaria and her sister Blanche of Castile chose Joan of Ponthieu as Ferdinand’s second wife, building ties with France. She also arranged the marriage of her daughter to John of Brienne, a respected leader in European politics. Through these careful alliances, Berengaria helped secure Castile’s place in the wider world.

Perhaps Berengaria’s most impressive achievement came in 1230. Upon the death of Alfonso IX, the throne of León did not pass to Ferdinand, but to two daughters from Alfonso’s first marriage. Rather than risking war, Berengaria personally negotiated with the two princesses and their mother, Queen Teresa of Portugal. The result was the Treaty of Las Tercerías, in which the daughters renounced their claims in exchange for compensation. This brilliant diplomacy allowed Ferdinand III to inherit León and unite it with Castile, forming the foundation of a future Spanish kingdom.

While Ferdinand waged war in the south during the Reconquista, Berengaria governed the heartland. She ensured the loyalty of nobles, maintained stability, and supported the military campaigns through strategic administration and resource mobilization. She was also a devout patron of religious institutions. She supported the Order of Santiago, endowed monasteries, and continued to sponsor Las Huelgas Abbey, where she was later buried. She also promoted historical writing, commissioning chronicles to preserve and legitimize her family's legacy.

Berengaria died in 1246, having lived to see her son triumph in Córdoba, Jaén, and Seville, and recognized as a defender of Christendom. She was buried at Las Huelgas Abbey in Burgos, among her royal ancestors.

History remembers Berengaria as one of the great queens of medieval Europe—not because she held power for its own sake, but because she used it wisely, and often relinquished it when others would have clung to it. She united two kingdoms, shaped a future saint, and ensured that her son’s rule rested on a foundation of peace, not conquest. Her legacy lives on in the enduring strength of the Castilian-Leonese crown, and in the very idea of Spain as a unified realm.

Further Reading

  • MedievalWomen.org – "Berengaria of Castile (1180–1246)" – A comprehensive summary of Berengaria’s life and political achievements, including her regency and crucial decision to abdicate to her son.

  • Shadis, MiriamBerenguela of Castile and Political Women in the High Middle Ages. An academic study analyzing Berengaria’s role as a female ruler and her strategies in a male-dominated political sphere.

  • Bianchini, JannaThe Queen’s Hand: Power and Authority in the Reign of Berenguela of Castile. A scholarly book (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2012) offering an in-depth look at Berengaria’s reign and influence on 13th-century Iberian politics.

San Julián de Cuenca (1128-1208) – Patron Saint of Cuenca (Spain)

A painting of San Julián and Lesmes, Cuenca (Spain). (Lesmes is the saint’s faithful servant and companion.)

San Julián de Cuenca, the patron saint of Cuenca, served as the city's second bishop from 1198 to 1208. Born in Burgos around 1128, he excelled as a scholar and teacher before choosing a life of solitude and prayer. In 1198, King Alfonso VIII appointed him bishop of Cuenca, a city newly reclaimed from Muslim rule.

During his decade as bishop, San Julián devoted himself to rebuilding the diocese and caring for the needy. He became known as the "father of the poor," often depicted weaving baskets to raise money for those in need. His simple lifestyle and unwavering generosity left a lasting legacy of faith and compassion. Recognizing his holiness, Pope Clement VIII canonized him in 1594.

This painting is housed in the Cathedral of Santa María y San Julián de Cuenca, a stunning example of Early Gothic architecture, built between the late 12th and early 13th centuries. The cathedral, one of the first Gothic churches in Spain, stands as a testament to Cuenca's medieval Christian heritage and the enduring influence of its beloved patron saint.

Juan Pacheco and the Castilian Succession Crisis

The Castle of Belmonte (Spain), built by Juan Pacheco.

Juan Pacheco (1419 – 1474), 1st Marquis of Villena, was one of the most powerful and ambitious nobles in 15th-century Castile. As a close advisor to King Henry IV (Henry the Impotent), he held great influence at court. However, his shifting loyalties and political maneuvers helped create the conflict that led to the Castilian Succession Crisis. By switching sides multiple times, Pacheco played a key role in shaping the fight for the throne.

At first, Pacheco was one of Henry IV’s most trusted allies. He gained large amounts of land and power, including the lordship of Belmonte, where he built the Castle of Belmonte in 1456. But when other nobles, like Beltrán de la Cueva, started to gain the king’s favor, Pacheco felt threatened and turned against Henry IV.

In 1465, he joined a group of nobles who wanted to remove the king, arguing that Henry was weak and unfit to rule. They staged the Farce of Ávila, a public event where they symbolically deposed the king and declared his half-brother, Prince Alfonso, the rightful ruler. Pacheco became one of Alfonso’s main advisors and military leaders, but when Alfonso died suddenly in 1468, Pacheco had to find a new way to stay in power.

He then switched his support to Isabella, Henry IV’s half-sister, helping to negotiate the Treaty of the Bulls of Guisando (1468), where Henry named her as his heir. However, Pacheco wanted to control Isabella’s decisions. When she secretly married Ferdinand of Aragon in 1469 against his wishes, he saw her as a threat and once again changed sides. He returned to Henry IV’s camp and supported Joanna la Beltraneja, Henry’s daughter, as the rightful heir.

Pacheco’s constant shifting between rival factions deepened the crisis and helped lead to the War of the Castilian Succession (1475–1479). However, he did not live to see the war begin, as he died in 1474. Though his political plans ultimately failed, his influence left a lasting mark on Castile, and his Castle of Belmonte still stands as a reminder of his wealth and ambition.

The Majestic Cathedral of Jaén (Spain)

Catedral de la Asunción de Nuestra Señora, Jaén (Spain).

The Cathedral of Jaén, officially known as the Catedral de la Asunción de Nuestra Señora, is one of the most significant architectural landmarks in southern Spain. Located in the heart of Jaén, it stands on the site of a former mosque, with construction beginning in the early 16th century. The cathedral was built to replace the original Gothic church, which had been damaged during the Christian reconquest. Its construction spanned over several decades, finally completed in 1724, blending Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque styles.

Designed by the renowned architect Andrés de Vandelvira, the cathedral is a masterpiece of Renaissance architecture, particularly noted for its elegant façade and harmonious proportions. The building’s most iconic feature is its grand dome, which rises above the city and is one of the largest in Spain. The cathedral's interior is equally impressive, with a central nave flanked by chapels, and a beautiful altar made of marble. The church houses a remarkable collection of religious art, including works by notable artists like Juan Martínez Montañés, and sculptures such as the Cristo de la Expiración, an iconic piece by the same sculptor.

The Cathedral of Jaén is also home to the Capilla del Santo Rostro, a chapel dedicated to the Santo Rostro, a relic believed to be the veil of Veronica, associated with Christ’s Passion. This makes the cathedral a significant pilgrimage site.

In addition to its religious and architectural value, the Cathedral of Jaén is recognized as a symbol of the city, drawing visitors from all over the world to admire its beauty and historical significance. It is classified as a national monument and continues to serve as the seat of the Diocese of Jaén.

A Gateway to the Afterlife: The Hispano-Roman Sarcophagus of Córdoba

The front of the sarcophagus of the Alcázar de Córdoba.

With its imposing dimensions and intricate reliefs, this marble sarcophagus offers a fascinating glimpse into the funerary traditions of the Hispano-Roman elite. Discovered in 1958 during sewer construction in Córdoba, it had remained hidden for centuries in a necropolis in the Huerta de San Rafael del Brillante. Its iconography suggests it served as the final resting place for multiple members of a freed family, likely of Greek origin.

Carved between 220 and 240 AD from a single block of marble, its reliefs depict the journey to the afterlife. At the center stands the half-open gate of Hades, symbolizing the transition to the beyond, flanked by imposing ram and lion heads, representing strength and determination. On either side of this central scene, the soul guides of the deceased are portrayed: a magistrate holding a scroll, accompanied by a philosopher guiding him towards the afterlife, and his wife, depicted with a dove at her feet, a symbol of purity and domestic devotion.

Every carved detail showcases masterful craftsmanship—the flowing folds of the garments, the expressive gazes, and the rich symbolism all reflect a profound belief in life after death. The winged horse Pegasus and a panther on the shorter sides further reinforce this theme—symbols of swiftness and power needed to reach the underworld.

Today, this exceptional sarcophagus rests in the Alcázar de los Reyes Cristianos in Córdoba, where it continues to remind us of a civilization where art, faith, and the eternal journey were inextricably linked.

Based on: El sacófago romano del alcázar de Córdoba, published on www.arteiconografia.net.

Averroes

Averroes.

Averroes (1126–1198), also known as Ibn Rushd, was a renowned Andalusian philosopher, physician, jurist, and scholar who left a lasting impact on both the Islamic and Western intellectual traditions. He was born in Córdoba, a city that, during his time, was one of the most vibrant cultural and intellectual centers of the medieval world. Under the rule of the Almohad dynasty, Córdoba was a place where Islamic, Jewish, and Christian scholars exchanged ideas, contributing to a flourishing atmosphere of knowledge and debate. However, it was also a period of political and religious tensions, as the Almohads enforced stricter interpretations of Islam, which later led to the suppression of philosophical thought.

Averroes is best known for his commentaries on Aristotle, through which he sought to reconcile classical Greek philosophy with Islamic theology. He believed in the power of reason and argued that philosophy and religion were not in conflict but could coexist harmoniously. His works were instrumental in reintroducing Aristotelian thought to medieval Europe, profoundly influencing scholars such as Thomas Aquinas and shaping the course of Western philosophy.

Beyond philosophy, Averroes made significant contributions to medicine, law, and astronomy, authoring numerous texts that remained influential for centuries. Despite his intellectual achievements, his ideas eventually fell out of favor in the Islamic world due to growing religious orthodoxy, and he faced exile toward the end of his life. However, his works were preserved and translated into Latin, ensuring his legacy in the European Renaissance and the development of secular thought.

El Peromato and La Gobierna, Zamora (Spain)

El Peromato and La Gobierna of Zamora (Spain).

In Zamora, two weathervanes have transcended their decorative function to become true symbols of the city: El Peromato and La Gobierna. These figures have a historical origin closely linked to local architecture. El Peromato, a medieval knight figure carrying the Seña Bermeja, once stood atop the tower of the Church of San Juan de Puerta Nueva in the Plaza Mayor. La Gobierna, a personification of fame holding a trumpet and the keys to the city, was positioned on the southern tower of the Puente de Piedra (the Stone Bridge).

Both weathervanes reflect the cultural heritage of Zamora. Today, they are preserved in the Provincial Museum of Zamora, where their significance continues to live on in popular imagination. El Peromato has also given rise to the expression "ya está vuelto el Peromato", used to signify a change of opinion or decision. This deeply rooted phrase among the people of Zamora reinforces the symbolic importance of the figure in the city's daily life.

The significance of these figures is also captured in a well-known Zamoran saying, recorded in popular folklore:
"Zamora has three things that Madrid does not: El Peromato, La Gobierna, and the Paseo de San Martín."

Based on an article published in ‘Zamora News’ in 2024.

Joanna of Castile: Madness or Marginalization?

Based on “Johanna de Waanzinnige” by Johan Brouwer

Joanna of Castile

History has often remembered Joanna of Castile—better known by her posthumous moniker Juana la Loca, or Joanna the Mad—as a queen who lost her mind for love and lingered in madness until death. She is imagined wandering with her husband’s coffin, clutching it as if unwilling to release him to the realm of the dead. But is this image accurate, or merely a convenient fiction woven by those who profited from her silence?

The Dutch historian Johan Brouwer takes this well-worn tale and turns it on its head. In his thoughtful and evocative account, Brouwer offers not a sensationalized depiction of a madwoman, but a portrait of a tragic and complex figure whose alleged insanity may have been less a medical reality than a political strategy. Through his lens, Joanna becomes not only a grieving widow but a woman undone by the forces of dynastic ambition and patriarchal politics.

Born in 1479 to the powerful Catholic Monarchs Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile, Joanna was educated in a rich intellectual tradition. She was fluent in Latin, trained in philosophy and theology, and exposed to the ideals of Renaissance humanism. This was not the upbringing of a passive or weak-minded woman, but one meant to prepare her for the responsibilities of rule. Yet from the outset, Joanna’s destiny was never truly hers to shape.

Her marriage to Philip the Handsome, son of the Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I, was orchestrated for political gain. What began as a passionate union quickly deteriorated into a fraught relationship riddled with betrayal and manipulation. Joanna’s deep emotional bond to Philip—intensified by his infidelities and her own growing isolation at his court—set the stage for her later image as a woman “mad with love.”

When Philip died suddenly in 1506, Joanna was just twenty-seven years old and mother to six children. Her grief was profound, but it also became a weapon used against her. Her father Ferdinand soon claimed she was mentally unfit to govern, declaring himself regent of Castile. Her son Charles, later Charles V, would do the same. She spent nearly five decades confined in the Convent of Tordesillas, where she was visited rarely, ruled never, and gradually erased from public life.

Brouwer challenges us to reconsider the term “madness” as applied to Joanna. Were her behaviors truly pathological, or were they the natural reactions of a sensitive and bereaved woman in a political world that offered no space for emotional authenticity? Her supposed mental breakdowns often occurred in contexts where her authority was being questioned or usurped. Was her madness real—or constructed?

Importantly, Brouwer situates Joanna’s downfall within the broader context of gender and power. Early modern Europe was not kind to strong-willed women. A queen regnant like Joanna, who claimed her own authority and did not bend easily to the will of male advisors or relatives, was a threat to established norms. Declaring her insane was not only a means of control but a way to reinforce societal expectations about the roles women were meant to play—docile, devoted, dependent.

The tragedy of Joanna’s life lies not only in her suffering, but in the way that history has misunderstood and misrepresented her. By focusing on the supposed irrationality of her grief, traditional narratives have overlooked the rationality of her confinement. In silencing Joanna, her family secured their thrones—but in doing so, they condemned her to half a century of political and emotional imprisonment.

Brouwer’s work stands as a vital corrective to centuries of simplistic portrayals. It is both a historical inquiry and a philosophical meditation on how we define mental illness, especially in those who disrupt the status quo. His Johanna de Waanzinnige invites us to listen for the voice beneath the legend—the voice of a woman unjustly cast as mad, and long denied her place in the story of Europe.

Further Reading

·      Johan Brouwer, Johanna de Waanzinnige.

·      Bethany Aram, Juana the Mad: Sovereignty and Dynasty in Renaissance Europe

·      Manuel Fernández Álvarez, Juana la Loca: La cautiva de Tordesillas

The Aljafería Palace in Zaragoza (Spain)

The Aljafería Palace in Zaragoza (Spain).

The Aljafería Palace in Zaragoza is one of Spain’s most remarkable examples of Islamic architecture and a beautiful showcase of the splendor of Al-Andalus during the Taifa period. Built in the 11th century under the rule of Al-Muqtadir, the palace served as the residence of the Muslim kings of the Taifa of Zaragoza. Its elegant horseshoe arches, intricate geometric carvings, and lush courtyard showcase the refined artistry of Islamic Spain. The palace was not only a symbol of political power but also a cultural hub, where poets, scholars, and scientists thrived.

After the Christian reconquest of Zaragoza in 1118 by Alfonso I of Aragon, the Aljafería was repurposed as a royal residence. In the late 15th century, the Catholic Monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella commissioned significant modifications, adding elements of Gothic and Mudejar architecture. The palace later served as a military barracks, which led to structural damage over the centuries. Despite this, extensive restoration efforts have preserved its beauty, and today, it houses the Parliament of Aragón.

Visitors can explore its richly decorated halls, defensive towers, and serene gardens, witnessing the fascinating blend of Islamic, Gothic, and Renaissance influences that make the Aljafería a unique symbol of Spain’s multicultural past.

The Interior of the Aljaferia Palace.

Olives, Oranges, and the Essence of Jaén

Tres morillas de Jaén, by María Pilar Morales.

Jaén, located in the heart of southern Spain, is a province that reflects the spirit of Mediterranean agriculture. Its landscape, with rugged mountains and fertile plains, is dominated by vast olive groves and thriving orange orchards. These two types of trees have shaped the region’s culture, economy, and identity for centuries.

The olive tree is the cornerstone of Jaén’s agricultural industry, as the province is one of the world’s leading producers of olive oil. Olive groves stretch across the hills, their silvery-green leaves shining in the sunlight. These ancient trees are not just crucial to the local economy, but they also carry the history of Jaén, reaching back to Roman times.

While olives dominate the region, orange groves add a vibrant contrast. In the lower-lying areas, the bright blossoms and sweet fruit of orange trees contribute to Jaén’s agricultural variety. The citrus groves, with their fragrant flowers and colorful fruit, bring a fresh burst of life to the landscape, complementing the more muted tones of the olive trees.

Together, these trees define Jaén’s countryside, creating a balanced landscape that is both beautiful and essential to the province’s economy. The close relationship between the land and its agricultural traditions is at the heart of Jaén’s identity, making it a place where nature and culture are deeply intertwined.

The Battle of Vigo Bay (1702)

Battle of Vigo Bay, October 23, 1702. Episode from the War of the Spanish Succession (anonymous, ca. 1705).

In the autumn of 1702, an important sea battle took place off the coast of northwestern Spain, in a quiet inlet called Vigo Bay. Known as the Battle of Vigo Bay, it became one of the most dramatic naval clashes of the early War of the Spanish Succession—a major European conflict over who would control the Spanish Empire after the death of its childless king (Charles II of Spain, 1661–1700).

At the time, a powerful fleet of Spanish treasure ships had just arrived from the Americas, carrying gold, silver, and valuable goods. They were being protected by French warships and hidden inside the bay. But the Allies—Britain and the Dutch Republic—had found out where the fleet was hiding.

Led by Admiral Sir George Rooke (British) and Vice Admiral Philips van Almonde (Dutch), the Allied fleet launched a surprise attack on 23 October 1702. The entrance to the harbor had been blocked with a heavy chain and guarded by forts and ships, but the Allies broke through. In the chaos that followed, most of the Franco-Spanish fleet was destroyed or captured.

Although much of the treasure had already been moved inland, the battle was still a major victory. It gave the Allies a badly needed morale boost after an earlier failed attempt to capture the port of Cádiz, and it showed their naval strength. The event also had diplomatic effects: soon after the battle, Portugal switched sides to join the Allies.

Today, the Battle of Vigo Bay is remembered not just for its daring naval tactics, but also for its impact on the larger war. It’s a reminder of how battles at sea could shape the course of European politics and global trade in the early 18th century.

The Lingering Shadows of Spain’s Civil War

Though Spain’s Civil War ended in 1939, its echoes still resonate through the country’s streets, politics, and family histories. Unlike other European nations that confronted their past through trials or truth commissions, Spain adopted a pact of forgetting (Pacto del Olvido) during its transition to democracy. This silence allowed wounds to remain unhealed, with mass graves still being uncovered and historical memory laws stirring controversy. The legacy of Franco’s dictatorship lingers in political debates, street names, and even in family conversations where loyalties remain divided. As Spain grapples with how to remember its past, the war remains not just history but a presence—just below the surface.

Santa Comba de Bande, Spain

Santa Comba de Bande.

The Santa Comba de Bande church is one of the oldest and most significant examples of Visigothic architecture in Spain, located in the small village of Bande in the province of Ourense, Galicia. Dating back to the 7th century, it represents a key period in early medieval Christian architecture on the Iberian Peninsula, before the Islamic conquest. The church’s structure follows a traditional Greek cross plan, notable for its use of horseshoe arches, and its simplicity reflects the aesthetic and religious values of the Visigothic era.

Despite its modest size, the church holds immense historical and cultural significance due to its connection to early Christian art and Visigothic traditions. The Santa Comba de Bande church is also known for its beautifully preserved mosaics and carvings, which provide insight into the art and religious practices of the time. The church has been declared a national monument and remains a testament to the continuity of Christian worship in the region for over a millennium.

The Roman Temple of Vic (Spain)

The Roman Temple of Vic (Spain).

Vic, a historic town in Catalonia, Spain, has a past that stretches all the way back to Roman times, when it was known as Ausona. Founded sometime between the late Republican period (2nd–1st century BC) and the early days of the Roman Empire (1st century AD), Ausona was an important settlement in the province of Hispania Tarraconensis. Thanks to its location along key trade and communication routes, the town developed into a thriving community with well-planned streets, public buildings, and temples.

One of the most striking remains from this period is the Roman Temple of Vic. Built in the 1st or 2nd century AD, this well-preserved structure gives us a glimpse into the city’s ancient past. Historians are still unsure which god or goddess the temple was dedicated to, but it stood in a sacred area (temenos) where people gathered to make offerings and take part in religious ceremonies. Sitting on one of the highest points of Auso, the temple would have been a significant part of the city’s landscape.

The temple only survived thanks to the way it was reused over the centuries. During the Middle Ages, it was completely enclosed within the Castell dels Montcada, a fortress built by the influential Montcada family. Over time, it was used as a noble residence, a granary, and even a prison. Its true identity was forgotten until 1882, when restoration work uncovered its original structure. Since then, it has been recognized as one of the best-preserved Roman temples in Catalonia, offering a direct link to Vic’s Roman past.

The Royal Tombs of the Capilla Real: Two Couples, One Legacy

An impression of the two tombs in the Capilla Real. (On the left, the tomb of Isabella and Ferdinand. On the right: the tomb of Joanna and Philip.

In the heart of Granada, within the Capilla Real, two grand marble tombs rest beneath the towering Gothic vaults. Built between 1505 and 1517 by order of Queen Isabella I, the chapel was meant to be the final resting place of Spain’s Catholic Monarchs. Their beautifully sculpted tombs were set in place in 1521, crafted from Carrara marble by the Italian artist Domenico Fancelli. One holds Queen Isabella I of Castile (1451-1504) and King Ferdinand II of Aragon (1452-1516), the monarchs who united Spain. The other belongs to their daughter, Joanna I of Castile (1479-1555), known as "la Loca", and her husband, Philip I of Castile (1478-1506), called "the Handsome".

In the chapel, their tombs are masterpieces of Renaissance sculpture, depicting the royals in peaceful repose. Yet their actual remains rest in plain lead coffins in the crypt below, a stark contrast to the grandeur above. These two tombs contain rulers who shaped Spain’s destiny—though their lives took very different paths.

Isabella and Ferdinand: The founders of Spain

Married in 1469, Isabella and Ferdinand united Castile and Aragon, laying the foundation for modern Spain. Together, they completed the Reconquista, reclaiming Iberian lands from Moorish rule. Their greatest victory came in 1492, when they conquered Granada. That same year, Isabella financed Columbus' voyage, launching Spain’s global empire.

Deeply involved in governance, Isabella was a skilled strategist, while Ferdinand expanded Spain’s influence in Europe. Their reign also saw the establishment of the Spanish Inquisition, enforcing religious unity. Isabella died in 1504, and Ferdinand ruled alone until 1516. As planned, they were laid to rest in Granada, the city of their triumph.

Joanna and Philip: A Tragic Love Story

Unlike her parents, Joanna I of Castile lived a life of turmoil. She married the Flemish Philip of Habsburg in 1496, and their passionate but troubled relationship was filled with jealousy and scandal. Philip became King of Castile in 1504, but his sudden death in 1506 sent Joanna into deep despair. Overcome with grief, she was declared mentally unfit to rule.

For nearly fifty years, Joanna was confined in Tordesillas, while her son, Charles V, ruled in her place. She died in 1555, never truly recognized as queen.

Two Tombs, One Legacy

Though their lives were vastly different, these two royal couples remain forever linked in the Capilla Real. Isabella and Ferdinand rest as Spain’s greatest monarchs, while Joanna and Philip’s tombs remind us of a dynasty’s troubled succession. Standing before these tombs, history feels close—the victories, the tragedies, and the power struggles that shaped Spain’s past.

Saint Martha and the Mythical Tarasca of Antequera (Spain)

La Tarasca of Antequera (Spain).

In Antequera, within the historic Real Colegiata de Santa María la Mayor, stands the captivating figure of La Tarasca. This sculpture portrays a fearsome, multi-headed serpent subdued and guided by Saint Martha, a representation deeply rooted in both Christian tradition and medieval folklore. Historically, such figures have played a significant role in religious processions, particularly during the Corpus Christi celebrations, where they symbolize the triumph of faith over chaos and evil.

The Tarasca of Antequera is not merely a static sculpture but a dynamic element of the town’s rich cultural heritage. During Corpus Christi, it becomes a focal point of the procession, evoking both awe and curiosity as it parades through the streets, often accompanied by music and traditional performances. This tradition, inherited from medieval European festivities, has been preserved and adapted over centuries, reflecting changes in religious and societal values while maintaining its core symbolism.

The origins of La Tarasca can be traced back to the medieval legend of Saint Martha, who, according to tradition, tamed a monstrous creature known as the Tarasque in Provence, France. This narrative spread across Spain, influencing local customs and processions, particularly in cities like Granada, Seville, and Antequera. The version found in Antequera is unique in its artistic expression, emphasizing the town’s distinct identity within Andalusian heritage.

Beyond its religious significance, La Tarasca serves as a bridge between the past and present, inviting both residents and visitors to immerse themselves in the legends and traditions that have shaped Antequera’s cultural landscape. Its presence in the Real Colegiata de Santa María la Mayor underscores the enduring connection between sacred spaces and local folklore, ensuring that this fascinating symbol of faith and myth continues to captivate generations to come.

The 'Escena Familiar', Zamora (Spain)

The ‘Escena Familiar’ (1905), by José Gutiérrez García (Filuco) and Heinrich Kühn, Museum of Zamora.

The photograph Escena Familiar, displayed in the Museum of Zamora, is a striking depiction of a modest household in early 20th-century Spain. Capturing a moment of daily life, the image provides insight into the social conditions of Zamora around 1905, a time when the city was experiencing economic struggles, rural poverty, and the gradual transformation of its traditional society. The region, largely agrarian, faced challenges such as industrial underdevelopment, limited infrastructure, and high emigration rates, as many sought better opportunities in industrialized areas of Spain and abroad.

The authorship of Escena Familiar remains a subject of debate. While long attributed to José Gutiérrez García, known as Filuco—a Zamoran photographer, painter, and entrepreneur—some evidence suggests a connection to the Austrian pictorialist Heinrich Kühn. The use of gombicromatography, a technique associated with Kühn, and the existence of a copy inscribed with both names support the theory of a collaboration or shared influence. Whether Filuco or Kühn was the principal creator, the photograph stands as a testament to the artistic experimentation of the era and the enduring power of imagery to document and evoke historical realities.

The Balcony of La Mancha (Spain)

The windmills of Mota del Cuervo (Balcony of La Mancha).

The windmills of Mota del Cuervo, known as the "Balcony of La Mancha," are an iconic part of Spain’s cultural and historical landscape. Built to harness the region’s strong winds, they played a vital role in grinding grain into flour, essential for local breadmaking. Farmers from the surrounding areas relied on these mills to process their wheat, sustaining the rural economy for centuries.

Beyond their practical function, the windmills have become a symbol of Spanish heritage, famously featured in Miguel de Cervantes’ Don Quixote. In the novel, the delusional knight mistakes them for giants, creating one of literature’s most memorable scenes.