Doña Urraca (1032 – 1101) represents an enigma. On one hand known for her assiduous effort to promote her lineage and dynasty, on the other hand known as a promiscuous murderess. Why is that?
The parents bore Urraca, a girl of utmost nobility in comeliness and behaviour…She was outstanding in both wisdom and goodness, which indeed we have learned more by experience than by report. Spurning carnal ties and the perishable garments of a husband, outwardly in secular guise but inwardly under monastic discipline, she clove to Christ as her true spouse, and throughout the term of her life, she persisted in her cherished practice of embellishing holy altars and priestly vestments with gold and silver and precious stones.” [1]
Doña Urraca was the eldest daughter of Fernando I and Sancha, who ruled over an amalgamation of lordships and petty kingdoms in Northern Spain, by and by forging them into a proper kingdom, which was powerful enough to make major inroads into Andalucia. Born in 1015 Fernando became Count of Castile in 1029 at the age of fourteen. In 1037 he defeated his brother-in-law inheriting the kingdom of Léon. According to tradition he was the first to be crowned emperor of Spain (1056).
Fernando is known for having conducted a series of raids on the Muslim Taifa-kingdoms, which netted him vast sums in the form of regular payments of parias or tribute from the rulers of Badajoz, Toledo and Zaragoza, Valencia and Seville; and for his vested interest in securing intercessory prayers and anniversaries from the Monastery in Cluny, for which he payed an enourmous sum of money every year.
Primarily, though, the royal couple was known for its royal patronage of a series of churches and religious institutions in Northern Spain – Catedral de Santiago de Compostela, San Salvador in Orviedo and not least their private chapel, San Isidoro in Léon, to which he translated the relics of San Isidore, taken from Seville in 1058. These were placed in a still-existing silver box and presented to the chapel, together with a long list of other precious items and relics. In an inventory from 1063 all in all some fifty items were listed: a frontal of pure gold with emerald and sapphires; three silver frontals; three votive crowns of gold, one of which was “his actual diadem on my head”; a small box of crustal covered with glass; a cross of ivory with the effigy of our Crucified Lord; two censors of gold etc. (Some of these precious items are still in existence.) [2]
The daughter – Doña Urraca
This tradition of royal patronage was continued through the remarkable contribution of Doña Urraca to the construction of the Royal Pantheon in Léon – famous for its Romanesque paintings – as well as the outstanding pieces of liturgical art, she donated to the nearby palace chapel, now San Isidoro.
In the testament of her father she and her sister had been given a life-long stipend from the royal monasteries, requiring only that she should stay unmarried. Her work thus consisted in managing the resources of certain prominent nunneries or double monasteries under the patronage of the crown. The resultant lordship was known as the infantaticum or in Spanish infantado/infantazgo, resulting in the title, Infanta, often attached to Urraca (and her sister Elvira). Part of her obligation was obviously to care for the private royal pantheon, where her parents together with other family members were buried, and to which she had an entrance directly from her private rooms in the palace next door. [3]
Careful studies of the architecture of San Isidoro, the Pantheon as well as the different items in the treasury of this and other churches stemming from her have shown a remarkable cultural mixture of inspiration reaching from North to South.
Not only were Gallic and Ottonian traditions drawn upon, but also more traditional Mozarabic as well as Islamic inspiration amalgamated into a curious although resplendent mixture of gold, silver and jewels. This mirrored the gradual liturgical changes from the Mozarabic to Catholic liturgy, which was brought about in this period. [4]
At the same time a decisive change took place in the lay religious outlook of the court in Léon in the 11th century – from a more traditional Mozarabic religiosity to a stark and demanding penitential religiosity, inspired by Cluny. In this process she was obviously helped along by her brother, Alfonso VI. [5]
Crusading
Alfonso VI is perhaps best known for following in the footsteps of his father while conquering large parts of the Iberian peninsula from the Muslim Taifas. A turning point in this was the conquest of Toledo in 1085, a feat, which was part of the inspiration for the preaching of the First Crusade in 1095. This and many other military actions garnered Alfonso VI a reputation as a fierce and merciless warrior. What more it also feeded rumours about an incestuous relationship between Urraca and her brother.
According to Theresa Catarella, who has recently treated the background for this nasty libel, the allegation was voiced in the work of a Muslim historian from Grenada writing in 1130. Here the couple is also accused of being Zoroastrians. Later (in the 13th century) it was claimed that the incestuous acts had taken place in 1072, when Sancho (another brother) was besieging her in Zamora, because she had taken up arms in order to help out her brother, Alfonso. During the siege, Sancho was assassinated, a feat generally acknowledged to have been instigated by either Alfonso or Urraca (or both). [6]
It thus seems as if these infamous rumours originated in a beleaguered Muslim context; however from here it became a popular motive in both vernacular epics and romances, which presented Urraca as a person with a boisterous and “jongleuresque” personality. (Cantarella, p. 43). The spectre of these allegations thus continued to spread several centuries after the death of the siblings and with added colour: in some, she threatens her father to prostitute herself, in others she has an amorous affair with El Cid.
The question, historians have asked, is how to understand this Janus-faced princess – as a pious woman dedicated to manage her portion to the general benefit of her lineage as witnessed by her dedicated effort to construct and embellish the pantheon and the San Isidoro church? Or a sister engrossed in an incestuous relationship with the king, her brother – de facto side-lining a number of queens, who died in childbirth, the one after the other.
Puerta del Cordero
One piece of art may perhaps present us with a clue: the from app. 1090 – 1100. The main story told is Genesis 22 with the binding of Isaac by Abraham. To his left an angel offer Abraham a ram as a substitute. However further to the left, Ishmael (the “illegitimate” son) is pointing an arrow at the ram, with Hagar (his slave mother) standing next to him. She is shamefully showing off her legs and has her hair uncovered. To the far right is Sarah modestly seated, while angels are announcing her pregnancy. Next to her is a scene, where Isaac rides a donkey on his way to Mount Moriah.
John Williams – and with him a series of later scholars and art-historians – tend to believe that the tympanon should be understood as a piece of anti-Muslim PR, with Ishmael and his licentious mother standing in for the Arab People. Others – Teresa Catarella, who has written about the incestuous motive – have been tempted to understand the portrayal of Hagar as a slight against Alfonso’s Muslim concubine, Zaida, who had mothered his only living heir. Finally it has been suggested that the Tympanon should be understood as Urraca’s commentary to the fratricide and regicide committed by Alfonso and/or his sister – with Alfonso in the role of Isaac and Sancho, who had a vile reputation as “disobedient and rebellious”.
In conclusion, writes Teresa Catarella (p. 61), two “dramatically opposed portraits of Doña Urraca have come down to us, serving equally opposed purposes”. One is the woman portrayed in the court documents, the official Chronicles and in the art, she sponsored. Another is presented in the Muslim slandering, which fed a popular vision of a treacherous, wile and promiscuous woman.
However, these two portraits were primarily constructs, intended to further on one hand the legitimacy of the Leonese lineage and kingdom and on the other hand, the defamation of the same. “Urraca was the narrative scapegoat and sexual libel was the weapon of choice”, writes Catarella (p. 62).
What lived on, was however primarily the allegations voiced in the vernacular romances and popular history writings of a later age. The highly intelligent and dedicated woman of the Pantheon seems long forgotten.
[1] Historia Silense, chapter 81, p. 45 and chapter 12, p. 33.
From: The World of El Cid: Chronicles of the Spanish Reconquest
By Simon Barton, Richard Fletcher
Manchester University Press, 2000
[2] Fernando I and Alfonso VI as Patrons of the Arts.
By John Williams.
In: Anales de Historia del Arte 2011, Volumen Extraordinario (2) pp. 413 -435
[3] Mujeres, Hermanas e Hijas: el mecenazgo feminine en la familia de Aldefonso VI.
By Therese Martin
In: Anales de Historia del Arte 2011, Volumen Extraordinario (2) pp. 147 – 179
Becoming Alfonso VI: The king, his sister and the Arca Santa Reliquary.
By Rose Walker
In: Anales de Historia del Arte 2011, Volumen Extraordinario (2) pp. 391 – 412
Urraca of Zamora and San Isidoro in Léon: Fulfillment of a Legacy.
By Susan Havens Caldwell
In: Woman’s Art Journal 1986, Vol. 7 No. 1 pp. 19 – 25
[4] San Isidoro in Léon: Evidence for a New History.
By John Williams
In: The Art Bulletin, 1973 Vol. 55 No. 2. pp. 170 -184
Recasting the Concept of the “Pilgrimage church”: The Case of San Isodor de léon.
By Therese Martin
In: Corónica. A Journal of Medieval Hispanic Languages, literatures and Cultures. 2008, Vol. 36, no 2, pp. 165 – 189.
Chronicling the Iberian Palace: Written sources and the Meanings of medieval Christian rulers’ residences.
By Therese Martin
In: Journal of Medieval Iberian Studies, 2010, Vol. 2. No. 1 pp. 109 – 139
[5] Liturgical renewal in two Eleventh-Century Royal Spanish Prayerbooks.
By Lucy K. Pick
In: Traditio, 2011, Vol. 66 pp. 27 – 66
The Wall Paintings in the Panteón de los Reyes at León: A Cycle of Intercession.
By Rose Walker
In: The Art Bulletin, 2000, Vol. 82, No. 2, pp. 200 – 225
[6]
“Morir vos queredes, padre”: Doña Urraca in the Spanish and Portuguese Romancero.
By Erik Ekman
In: Corónica. A Journal of Medieval Hispanic Languages, literatures and Cultures. 2007, Vol. 35, no 2, pp. 69 – 81
Doña Urraca and her brother Alfonso VI: Incest as Politics.
By Teresa Catarella
In: Corónica. A Journal of Medieval Hispanic Languages, literatures and Cultures. 2007, Vol. 35, no 2, pp. 39 -67
READ MORE: