The Steeple Of Coveña

At a very little distance from Madrid you may already discern against
the horizon the outline of the steeple of Coveña, which is one of the
handsomest edifices of New Castile; and all the thitherward way it
is before you, standing against the sky as a landmark to the traveller.

The people are so proud of having a church which bears so unusual a
proportion to the size of their village, that they will not allow it
was designed by any architect of less renown than Juan de Herrera,
the architect of the Escorial, whom another tradition declares to
have had a hand in the works at St. Peter's, in Rome.

Nor are they satisfied with the mere statement; they are also very
circumstantial in their account of his connexion with it, though
both are declared to be quite apocryphal. They say he was so pleased
with this work of his genius that he had it produced entirely under
his own eye. He watched while the foundations were laid, while the
materials were collected round the spot, while every stone was laid
in its place; in fact, he was never tired of looking at it: now he
would take a long walk into the country to enjoy its appearance in
the distant view; now he would stand in the plaza beneath, and gaze
up at the storied decorations with which his fancy had invested it;
now he would mount the interior staircase of the tower, and look down
from the monument he had raised, upon the insignificant dwellings
with which it was surrounded.

On one of these latter expeditions he observed that he was one day
followed by Andres, his son, a boy of some fifteen years of age. The
circumstance pleased him, because he had noticed with growing sorrow
that Andres on many occasions had failed to display that fearless
disposition which is the characteristic of a brave and generous
spirit. Through an opening in the tracery he turned to watch, from
a higher stage, the boy's proceedings. For a certain distance he
mounted steadily enough, but in proportion as he got higher and had
completed more turnings, giddiness seemed to overcome him. Juan de
Herrera began to lose patience. The boy wiped the perspiration from
his forehead, and sat down in a recess. Herrera felt so provoked
that he could not restrain an impetuous movement; slight as was the
attendant noise, it struck upon the boy's excited nerves; he started
from his resting-place, trembling like an aspen leaf.

"What's the matter, Andres, my boy?" cried his father, to reassure him:
"it is only I, your father."

"I'm all right!" replied Andres, ashamed to be caught under a display
of weakness.

"Then come on, boy; and don't sit panting like a broken-winded
horse. There, put your head out of that slit in the wall, and look
down and see what a fine height I have made this tower. You'll see
Dolores and Pepito and Luis and Mariquilla playing in the plaza,
and they will look like ants from this high tower."

Andres somewhat recovered from his exertions and his alarm, and,
curious to see his playmates looking "like ants," summoned sufficient
courage to put his head through the loophole.

For the first time the boy experienced the effect of the giddy height;
he hung back and turned pale, then pressed his hands against the wall
for support.

"Coward! you don't mean to say you are afraid!" exclaimed Juan
de Herrera.

"Oh--no--I'm not afraid," stammered poor Andres, making a convulsive
effort to look out through the slit once more.

This time he remained so long opposite the opening and so steadily,
that his father hoped he had got over the first fears; but, watching
him anxiously, he observed, as he at length turned away, that he had
his eyes closed.

Indignant that his son should not have as robust courage as the
peasant boys of the village, and still more that he should not be
in a condition to enjoy his favourite structure, Juan de Herrera,
unable to master his irritation, loaded the boy with reproaches;
and Andres slunk away, grieved at having distressed his father,
yet unable to summon courage sufficient to satisfy his wishes.

Some days after this, the consecration of the church took place, and
the municipal functionaries invited the architect and his son to a
banquet on the occasion, at which were assembled all the notabilities
of the place, as well as many from neighbouring villages, and even
from Madrid. Juan de Herrera deemed, with more zeal than judgment,
that this would be a favourable opportunity for curing his son of his
weakness, and to effect this narrated to the company the circumstance
stated above.

"Father, it was a passing folly," cried the boy, burning with shame;
"give me an opportunity, and I will show you that I do not deserve
your opinion."

There was a pause, for the boy spoke with such thrilling earnestness
that the smile of derision which had been raised at his expense died
away from every lip.

"The galera [16] has just brought down the cross and ball for the
summit of the steeple," continued Andres; "let me go up and place it,
and I shall have had the merit of crowning your work."

"You will never dare it!" answered Juan de Herrera contemptuously.

"Let me show you I am not so bad," pleaded Andres.

"Bear in mind, boy, that if your courage fails when you get to that
height it will cost you your life."

"Don't be afraid; my courage will not be wanting," replied Andres.

"Be it so then," rejoined Juan de Herrera; "to-morrow you shall show
what you are worth," and he clasped the boy's hand to encourage him in
his courageous resolution, and all round the table applauded his pluck.

The next morning found all who were at the banquet, and many more
whose curiosity the report of the story had excited, gathered in the
plaza round the Church of Coveña. There at the foot of the steeple lay
shining the huge cross and ball, newly clad with gilding and bound
with strong ropes, by means of which it was to be hoisted over the
ready adjusted pulleys into its place.

"If you don't feel up to the mark, you had better give in, even
now!" whispered Juan de Herrera, under the porch. "It is still time;
and, mind, it is no easy task!"

"My head is quite steady," answered Andres, piqued to find his father
still doubted his daring; and, his head erect, without waiting to
hear another word of warning, he commenced the ascent of the spiral
stair at a rapid pace.

Not altogether free from uneasiness, Juan de Herrera went out to watch
the result from the stone cross in the centre of the plaza. The whole
crowd was nearly as breathless and anxious as the father, but before
two minutes had elapsed Andres was seen emerging from behind one of
the pinnacles of a platform, level with the beam on which the bell
had been hung a few days before.

A shudder seized the throng, for some one whispered that he had
heard the bell sound as the youth passed by, and the rest took up
the words and repeated under their breath with superstitious terror,
"La campana ha tocado á muerto [17]!"

Herrera, meantime, stood leaning against the cross a little way from
the crowd, and too much absorbed to catch the report. He seemed quite
tranquil and had heard no sound.

Most probably the lad had touched the clapper as he passed it.

Meantime Andres was steadily mounting a step-ladder placed on the
roof by which the final stage was to be reached, and from the steps
was engaged in arranging the support that was to receive the ball.

The workmen below were drawing the pulleys, and the ornament had
nearly reached the summit; as it rose, Andres had to mount two steps
more. He raised his foot, but his courage failed.

"My son is lost, for he hesitates!" cried the terror-stricken father,
in a hoarse voice.

The multitude took up the cry; but, simultaneously with its utterance,
the luckless boy was precipitated to the ground, dashing against one
of the buttresses as he fell.



Juan de Herrera, adds the tradition, was never seen to smile again.



One day he went up to the top of the lantern of St. Lorenzo of the
Escorial, and gazed over towards Coveña. It seemed to him that he saw
two fiery eyes glaring upon him from the steeple which had once been
his pride.

Eight days after he was found a corpse. It was the anniversary of
the death of his son.