Europe > Spain > Madrid > Madrid > Articles > In Loving Memory: Saint Valentine

In a country that is renowned for its affection and devotion to the saints, there is one who seems to have lost out on that ‘loving feeling.’ Prayers may frequently be cast heavenward for-the-attention of the saints of sore throats (San Blas), storms (Santa Bárbara) or ‘impossible miracles’ (Santa Rita) but Saint Valentine, the ‘Patron Saint of Lovers,’ remains almost totally overlooked.

Much to the disappointment of Spanish superstores, who would like to follow the example of their counterparts in northern Europe and the US, February 14th is noticed only by incurable romantics. While Woolworths in England advertises ‘Valentine’s cards at 2 for the price of 1,’ even the most popular of Spanish señoritas will have been lucky to get more than a couple of cards from admirers in her entire life! (But at least she will have been spared the terrible teenage misery of waiting for the post to arrive).

The tradition of sending cards apparently dates from the time of the Roman Empire when a Christian captive, named Valentinus, healed and converted the blind girl who was the turnkey’s daughter. On the eve of his martyrdom he sent a message to her saying simply: ‘From your Valentine - Farewell.’ Scholars say that another prime contender for the position of Patron Saint of Lovers is a Bishop Valentinus who defied the emperor’s prohibition against marriage for legionnaires - he believed that bachelors made braver soldiers - and was also beheaded on February 14th.

The Catholic Church recognises several St Valentines but, with more than enough saints to cover almost every trauma in life, even his sacred role has been usurped in Spain. Any Spanish grandmother will be able to offer advice on how best to find a suitor: “Not San Valentín! No, the only one that can help you to find your better half is San Antonio,” she will point out. “And, by the way, he’s also unbeatable at turning up lost keys, rings, trinkets, lottery tickets…”

It seems strange then that, of all the cities where he is most renowned, Saint Valentine has found his final lonely resting-place in the centre of Madrid. You won’t find his remains gracing one of the traditional lover’s rendezvous - the elegant gardens around the Palacio Real or near the enchanting rose-garden in Parque del Buen Retiro - but in a small, obscure church in the narrow streets of Chueca quarter.

Iglesia de San Antón’s grime-streaked, neo-classical façade does nothing to invite you in and, on close inspection, reveals little more worthy of comment than a sculpted piglet at the feet of a statue above the graffiti-ed timber doors. The church, damp and musty inside, is in a painfully decayed state and a forest of scaffolding stands testament to what seems to be somewhat belated restoration. Yet what was originally grandly known as the ‘Royal Church and Pious School of San Antón’ can boast a romantic and adventurous history that would be the envy of many other churches. It was founded by the Spanish Royalty as a school for young nobles (including Victor Hugo) and was described by another literary pupil as ‘a college of decency and mystery.’

San Antón’s came close to a tragic end, during the civil war, when it was sacked by anti-clerical communists and used as a prison but, before the church was over-run, faithful parishioners risked their lives to hide the most valuable religious objects in attics, crypts and secret nooks. Many treasures including an oil painting by Goya, two statues (one donated by Victor Hugo’s parents) and a fragment of the cross of Jesus survived the war but the bones of St Valentine lay forgotten until 1986.

It was Father Villán, the parish priest, who found them in a crypt beneath the church vestry with a parchment that shows that they were given to Saint Antón’s (via the Spanish Kings) by Pope Pius VI. The father petitioned the Vatican for permission to put them on display where they rest today: a skull and a pile of bones in an ornate glass-fronted box, below the Goya and flanked by the two statues.

Several other churches (including Whitefriars in Dublin) claim to have relics of Saint Valentine but Father Villán leaves little doubt: “He is here!…almost in his entirety.” A little over four foot and thickly bespectacled, Father Villán nevertheless has a reputation as ferocious defender of his church and has been known to forcibly evict a complete Spanish TV crew whom he judged to be lacking in courtesy. “They were just playing the fool here,” he says, “St Valentine’s relics have a religious value that visitors should respect.”

He stands as a short but stolid barricade against the modern consumer-drive that would like to use the saint as a figurehead, and if you imagined seeing Saint Valentine’s shrine bedecked by cupids, interlinked hearts and garlands of roses, Father Villán will be quick to disabuse you.

“I appreciate the Saint’s day celebrations in northern Europe and America - the cards and chocolates,” he says, “but it’s not for us. We’re quite gullible in Spain. The superstores tell us to buy and there we go, buying like maniacs without even thinking why.” Father Villán steadfastly refuse to contribute to that trend, “and the Cardinal couldn’t agree more,” he adds happily. However, he points out with a smile that, he’ll be delighted to see love-struck couples praying fervently at the Saint’s chapel at any time.

Yet few worshippers come to pay homage to St Valentine and the occasional crowds that do periodically gather at the church ask for blessings for their life companions and beloved darlings from another benefactor.

San Antón is the patron saint of animals - hence the immortalised piglet on the front of the church - and for more than eight hundred years (every January 17th) a rowdy procession is led into the church by the mayor. “He’s always the first animal to be blessed,” Father Villán laughs. But then follow cats and dogs, in their hundreds, as well as occasional iguanas, macaws and pythons. Over the decades he has even blessed (though not inside the church) crocodiles, elephants, giraffes and a black panther, brought by various zoos and conservationist associations.

It seems that, far from being bleak and forlorn, St Valentine’s last resting-place is full of surprises and unique stories. “Oh yes, there are many jewels in this building,” Father Villán chuckles, “But I’m sure you don’t know which treasure, though being the smallest, is also the most valuable?…The priest!”

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