In front of you stands a grand, pale-stone palace with a sturdy rectangular shape, rows of tall windows with little balconies, and a majestic entrance topped by intricate carvings and a cluster of fluttering flags-just look for the elegant building dominating the plaza, and you've found the Fernando Library of Lazees and Orihuela Historical Archive!
Now, as you stand before this impressive palace, imagine for a moment that you’ve just stepped into a treasure chest-but instead of gold coins and sparkling jewels, the riches here are bound in books and bundled in centuries-old documents. This is Orihuela’s greatest time machine: the Fernando Library of Lazees and the Historical Archive, a place where the echoes of Orihuela’s past practically tickle your ears. It all began back in the mid-1500s, when a forward-thinking fellow named Cardinal Fernando de Loazes, who also happened to be Patriarch of Antioch, started collecting something much more magical than stamp collections-books! In 1547, he set up a university right here, and a few years later, thanks to the nod from Pope Julius III, it officially became a pontifical university. Now, this wasn’t just any little school-it was the intellectual heart of Orihuela, churning out scholars, scribes, and, most importantly, a monstrous pile of books and documents.
Things got even grander in 1646, when King Philip IV declared this university “Regia, Real, General y Pública”-a royal and public seat of learning, which basically meant everyone wanted to stash their wisdom and secrets here. But here comes the plot twist: fast forward to 1835 and the university closed its doors, falling victim to political winds. You’d think all those precious books and papers would be lost, right? Thankfully, the state swooped in, and with a royal decree from Queen Isabel II in 1863, this treasure was protected and became Spain’s very first state-owned library-and aren’t you glad they didn’t use it as a giant shoe closet?
Today, the library and archive live inside the historic and recently rejuvenated Palace of the Dukes of Pinohermoso. This isn’t just your run-of-the-mill dusty archive, though; in 1993, the Ministry of Culture brought in architect Alberto Campo Baeza to revive these halls, giving the learning palace a new lease on life. Step inside-don’t worry, no secret passwords needed!-and you’ll find yourself beneath grand ceilings, surrounded by rows and rows of books. There’s a general reading room (think of it as Orihuela’s Hogwarts library) where portraits of solemn, stern professors of the past, their 16th-18th century garb and fluffy collars, line the walls and watch over bookworms of today.
Try not to trip over your curiosity as you wander further. There are study rooms, a magical children’s room, spaces for researchers, a film and music library, and even a playful “ludoteca” where fun and learning take a happy dance together. But let’s sneak into the real jewel: the Historic Room. Here, precious pieces of furniture from the old university rest beneath an army of wooden city crests, gilded and painted in dazzling colors, all while original paintings cast their wise gaze over visitors. Imagine the candlelight flickering off those ancient portraits, as dusty tomes whispered tales of yore. Today, the Historic Room also hosts conferences, where new stories join the stack.
And then, the archive-the true beating heart of Orihuela’s memory! Buried in its vaults are secrets from the 14th to the 20th century: letters, contracts, pages upon pages of handwritten mysteries, from simple notary notes to critical decisions that shaped all of Valencia. There’s a huge collection of “protocolos notariales,” and even two extremely rare books printed before 1501-incunables, as they’re called, which makes them sound a bit like spellbooks, doesn’t it? Some of these papers belonged to the old government of Orihuela; others were donated by families, so don’t be surprised if you stumble across a dramatic love letter or a grumpy landlord complaint from centuries ago. Modern tech has caught up, too-many records are now digitized, ensuring that no moldy mouse can nibble away at Orihuela’s legacy.
Oh, one last slice of time-travel for you: because the municipal archives are also stored here (at least until they move to their shiny new home), this place holds secrets stretching from the 1200s to the twentieth century. So, every sheet of paper is a little portal; every book, a bridge between your footsteps in this plaza and all the moments that made Orihuela what it is today.
And that, my friend, is the living, breathing soul of this palace of pages-if you listen hard, you might even hear the old cardinal chuckle as you walk by, proud that his collection is still very much alive! Now, ready to keep wandering through Orihuela’s story?
