THE CATHEDRAL OF SANTIAGO
The original church--Compared with St. Sernin of Toulouse--A great
resemblance--Notable differences--The respective architects--The
monks of Cluny--Two master builders--The cupola--The
naves--Street’s description--Seven gates--The _Puerta de los
Platerias_--Sculptured figures--Defects of the age--Street’s
admiration--The windows--The horseshoe arch--Sculpture and
statuary--The dramatic sentiment--The clock tower--The deep-toned
bell--The _Puerta Santa_--The _Quintana_--The _Azabacheria_--The
_Obradoiro_--The Italian staircase--The cloister
The central point both of archæological and of architectural interest in
Galicia is, without a doubt, the beautiful cathedral of Santiago.
Tradition tells us that this majestic edifice covers the spot where the
body of St. James was discovered by the guiding light of a star, in the
year 812.[126] The original church erected there having been destroyed,
the first stone of the present one was thought until recently to have
been laid by Alphonso VI., king of Castille and Leon, on July 11th,
1078, because, on a jamb of the _Puerta de los Platerias_ there is an
inscription to the effect that the work was done in the year 1116 of the
Spanish era.[127] There is nothing, however, to show whether that date
refers to the commencement or to the conclusion of the façade.[128] The
Codex of Calixtus II. (Bk. v.) gives this date as that of its
commencement; but it also gives the length of time which elapsed between
the beginning of the work and the death of Alfonso I. of Aragon as
fifty-nine years, and between the beginning of the work and the death of
our Henry I. as seventy-two years--and again, between that date and the
death of Louis VI. of France as seventy-three years. The building must
then have been begun in 1074 or 1075. Another indication of this is the
fact that in the writings of St. Fagildo the work is spoken of on August
17th, 1077, as already begun. The exact date of the building of this
cathedral is of considerable interest to students of architecture,
because, when once it is proved that it was begun before the French
cathedral of S. Sernin of Toulouse, the repeated assertion that the
cathedral of Santiago is a copy of that of St. Sernin will no longer
hold good.[129]
It cannot be denied that the two cathedrals in question bear a strong
resemblance to one another. Nevertheless, their plan of construction is
far from being identical. Both have the form of a Latin cross, but St.
Sernin has five naves, Santiago only three. The proportions of the
Spanish edifice are more harmonious than are those of the French one.
The naves of St. Sernin are too long in proportion to the length of her
transept. The transepts of the two cathedrals are very much alike; each
has one wide central nave, and a surrounding collateral one. St. Sernin
has two small apse-chapels opening on the southern side of each arm of
the transept, and Santiago must have originally had the same, though
only one exists to-day. The principal nave in each case is headed by a
semicircular apse fringed with five apse chapels. Fernandez Casanova,
after careful and minute study of both edifices, has pointed out two
other radical differences, beside that of the number of naves, and the
disproportionately long naves of St. Sernin. Firstly, the cathedral of
Santiago has its two lofty central naves entirely surrounded by a
collateral one without any interruption, whereas that of St. Sernin has
two distinct collateral naves on either side of the principal nave; but
these verge into one on reaching the transept, with a result that is far
less symmetrical: secondly, the spaces into which the collateral naves
of St. Sernin are divided are square, while in the case of Santiago
cathedral they are rectangular. Then, too, the towers of Santiago are
placed to the north and south of the west front, not to the west of it,
as is the case with that of St. Sernin. Besides, according to the
description given by Americus in the Codex of Calixtus II., the
cathedral of Santiago could originally boast of no less than nine
towers, and traces of some of them are still discernible in spite of the
countless alterations and mutilations to which the building has fallen a
victim.
In the construction of the triforium galleries of these respective
cathedrals there is also a notable difference: in that of Santiago one
uninterrupted gallery runs round the whole edifice. Ascending by the
broad tower staircase, I was able to pass round the inner side of the
outer walls of the entire building. The galleries of St. Sernin only
surround the body of the church. Both cathedrals have their central
naves covered with barrel vaults,[130] and their side naves with
quadripartite ones. Beside the differences I have pointed out, there are
also many minor ones, which will be found conscientiously described by
Fernandez Casanova.
The cathedral of Santiago is constructed of sparkling grey granite; that
of St. Sernin is of brick and mortar. Not only the cathedral, but
practically the whole town of Santiago, is built, like Aberdeen, of
granite, that material being exceedingly abundant in Galicia. Travellers
used in former times to complain of the sombre look of the houses on
that account. But now almost every dwelling is well whitewashed, and
presents, with its green shutters, quite a cheerful appearance. And the
grey cathedral itself lights up beautifully under the golden rays of the
afternoon sun. Many a time have I seen its sparkling stones resembling
rather burnished bronze than sombre grey granite.
Lopez Ferreiro points out that one of the singularities of the cathedral
of Santiago is the length of its transept, which is almost as long as
the body of the edifice. And well I remember how, on entering for the
first time, I for a moment mistook the wide and lofty transept for the
central nave. In the whole of Europe there are only five other
cathedrals which share this peculiarity--Pisa, Salisbury, Conques, St.
Sernin of Toulouse, and St. Petronius of Bologna. Ferreiro firmly
believes that the cathedral of St. Sernin is a copy of that of Santiago.
This writer has also drawn attention to the ingenious and original form
of the buttresses[131] which surround the body of the cathedral. They
are all joined together and strengthened by arches; they thus form, as
it were, one great buttress. There seem to be only two other examples of
this--that of Poictiers and that of Celles (Belgium).
It is not known who were the respective architects of the cathedrals of
St. Sernin and Santiago, so that when French writers claim for their
country the honour of having produced both these works of art, they have
no real foundation to go upon. Still one cannot deny that they have an
appearance of great probability on their side, especially when we find
that Dalmatius, the bishop of Compostela under whose guidance so much of
the work was carried on, had himself issued from the cloisters of
Cluny.[132] It was the monks of Cluny who designed the beautiful porch
(_narthex_) of the church of Vézelay which is permeated with the
Greco-Roman art of Syria. In 1150 they constructed the capitular chapel
of the same edifice, of which the sculpture is so remarkably Byzantine,
and, as we shall see, there is a strong Byzantine element in the design
and sculpture of the Cathedral of Santiago. But then Byzantine influence
made itself felt in Spain as far back as the first century of the
Christian Era, through commercial intercourse with the Mediterranean. In
the eighth century, too, Spain was filled with Byzantine Christians
fleeing from the Iconoclast persecution.[133]
When we consider how far the monks of Cluny travelled and how wide was
their influence upon the architecture of other countries besides their
own, including England, it would not be surprising to find that after
crossing the Pyrenees they had found their way even to Galicia, and left
traces of their influence in the architecture of that province.
Nevertheless, feeling on this disputed point runs very high between
Frenchman and Spaniard, and the latter is leaving no stone unturned in
his efforts to prove that the Cathedral of Santiago owes less to foreign
artists than the French have hitherto claimed.
The Cathedral of Santiago was built just at the period when the
architecture of Europe was beginning to change from Romanesque to
Gothic; it belongs, therefore, to a period of transition. Enough of the
original structure remains for it to rank as the chief monument of the
Romanesque style in Spain and one of the most famous cathedrals of that
architecture in the world. The importance of the pilgrimages to the
tomb of St. James in the eleventh century created a demand for a great
cathedral. Begun, as we have seen, about the year 1074, it was completed
in 1128. Lamperez describes it as being more noble, more magnificent,
and more perfect than either of those so nearly resembling it in the
south of France. “Was it a copy of these?” he asks, “or was it the
pattern from which they were taken?” “But where,” he adds, “if the
Cathedral of Santiago was the original model, where, in Spain, are the
edifices--the _attempts_ at perfection--which must have preceded and led
up to it?”[134]
In the _Historia Compostelana_ we read that the cathedral was set on
fire in 1170, and Ferreiro says that in 1878, when excavations were made
within the precincts of the building, traces of fire were certainly
found. He takes this as an indication that the Moors must have used fire
in their attempts to destroy the cathedral. Aimerico[135] says that in
spite of the fire the structure was completed in 1122. He remarks
enthusiastically that every one who ascends to the gallery, even if he
be sad at heart, must become joyful in contemplating from thence the
beauty of the cathedral. In those days it was much better lighted than
it is at present, for the upper windows had not been closed up, and the
light of heaven streamed in on every side. Clearly its present gloom,
though not unpleasing, was never intended by the architect. The names of
two master-builders who superintended the building have been
preserved--Bernardo and Rotberto: the latter had fifty masons to work
under him, and the former is characterised by Aimerico as _mirabilis
magister_. I have already described the eagerness with which pilgrims of
all ranks, ages, and sexes assisted the workmen. In the year 1124 two
canons of Santiago were engaged in collecting money for the completion
of the cathedral in places as far away as Sicily and Apulia. Money
continued to flow in from all parts of Spain. “After St. James’s body
had been removed to Santiago,” writes Ford, “riches poured in,
especially the corn-rent, said to have been granted in 846 by Ramiro,
to repay Santiago’s services at Clavijo, where he (the Apostle) killed
single-handed 60,000 Moors--more or less. This grant was a bushel of
corn from every acre in Spain, and was called _el voto_ and _el morion_,
the votive offering of the quantity which St. James’s spacious helmet
contained.... This corn-rent, estimated at £200,000 a year, used to be
collected by agents.... This tax was abolished in 1835.”
Where the cupola now rises over the centre of the cross which the
building forms there once stood one of the original nine towers: it was
destroyed in 1384. The cupola is Gothic and polygonal in form, and
should have eight elegantly pointed Gothic windows, separated from one
another by Byzantine columns, but, according to Fernandez Sanchez, some
architect of the seventeenth century substituted ugly rectangular
windows here and there, while he blocked up some of the old ones, and so
firmly were they closed that it was found impossible to restore them to
their original form when the restoration of the edifice was put in hand
towards the end of the nineteenth century. This cupola, according to
Sanchez, is the first piece of work put in by the later generations who
subsequently did so much to ruin the harmonious unity, the exquisite
symmetry of the original cathedral.
The naves of this cathedral are, as Ford noticed more than fifty years
ago, narrow in proportion to their height and length--the height of the
central nave being a little more than seventy feet. “The light and
elegant piers contrast with the enormous thickness of the outer walls.”
For my own part, I know of no cathedral whose interior proportions are
so simple in their perfection and so restful to the eye. Street
describes them in these words: “Engaged columns run up from the floor to
the vault, and carry transverse ribs or arches below the great
waggon-vault. The triforium opens to the nave with a round arch
subdivided with two arches carried on a detached shaft.” The
gloom-filled side naves are still lined with confessional boxes
dedicated to various saints, where pilgrims of every nationality can
find a priest who understands something of their language.
This cathedral once had seven gates,[136] most of them open day and
night to pilgrims. Aimerico gives all their names: the Porta-Santa is
the only one remaining. There are three façades which merit our careful
attention. Let us leave for awhile the beauties of the interior and
devote ourselves now to those of the exterior. The edifice is built on
ground by no means level, hence the necessity for the handsome flight of
steps that lead to the _Puerta de las Platerias_ which constitutes the
southern façade of the cathedral, and is thus named because it faces the
Street of the Silversmiths. This façade is of extreme interest for many
reasons. To begin with, it is the oldest part of the cathedral, and the
only one of the original façades that has been preserved, the only one
left to give us a true idea of what the exterior must have been like in
the days of its pristine beauty. This façade is decorated with no less
than a hundred sculptured figures, most of them of white marble. The
sculpture of the façade itself is remarkable. In most countries where
granite abounds sculpture is coarse and rude, but here the reverse is
the case, in spite of the fact that it is the work of the eleventh
century. All the statues are semi-relief, the white marble being
encrusted as it were upon the granite walls. Although these statues
exhibit some of the defects of their age,--rigidity of limb, unnatural
posture, and other faults,[137]--yet they are indisputably an example of
the best sculpture of the last quarter of the eleventh century. Upon the
tunics of some of the statues Ferreiro has noted a suspicion of the
corded fringe seen upon statues of the ancient Romans.
Street could not speak too highly of the beauties of this façade. He
wrote: “The detail of the front is of great interest, inasmuch as it is
clearly by another and an earlier workman than that of the western
porch. There are three shafts in each jamb of the doors, whereof the
outer are of marble, the rest of stone. These marble shafts are carved
with extreme delicacy, with a series of figures in niches, the niches
having round arches, which rest upon columns separating the figures. The
work is so characteristic as to deserve illustration. It is executed
almost everywhere with that admirable delicacy so conspicuous in early
Romanesque sculpture. The other shafts are twisted in very bold
fashion.... Figures on either side support the ends of the lintels of
the doors, but the tympana and the wall above for some feet are covered
with pieces of sculpture evidently taken down and refixed where they are
now seen. They are arranged, in short, like the casts of the Crystal
Palace, as if the wall were part of a museum. One of the stones of the
tympanum of the eastern door has the ‘Crowning with Thorns’ and the
‘Scourging,’ and on the other stones above are portions of a ‘Descent
into Hades,’ in which asses with wings are kneeling to our Lord. Asses
and other beasts are carved elsewhere, and altogether the work has a
rude barbaric splendour characteristic of its age.”
Street was also much struck with the windows above the double entrance
of this façade, and he wrote: “Their shafts and archivolts are richly
twisted and carved, and the cusping of the inner arch is of a rare kind.
It consists of five complete foils, so that the points of the lower cusp
rest on the capital, and, to a certain extent, _the effect of a
horseshoe arch is produced_. This might be hastily assumed to be a
feature borrowed from the Moors; but the curious fact is that this very
rare form of cusping is seen in many, if not most, of the churches of
the Auvergnal type ... and it must be regarded here, therefore, as
another proof of the foreign origin of most of the work of Santiago
rather than of any Moorish influence.” This allusion to the horseshoe
arch is of particular interest in connection with the remarks we have
already made upon that form of architecture in a previous chapter.
Fernandez Casanova and Lopez Ferreiro would describe the form of the
arches of this façade as Byzantine, and argue that such a form has
existed in Spain since the sixth century.
The statues of this façade--the birds, the flowers, and the beasts--are
all part of a mystic and profound symbolism. Ferreiro calls them a
compendium in stone of Divine Revelation,[138] remarking that they offer
sufficient material to fill a book; he then quotes a different text of
Scripture to explain each figure. In the space between the figures of
Christ and St. James are sculptured vertically the letters--
ANF REX
meaning King Alfonso VI., in whose reign this portico was constructed.
In this portico, as Ferreiro rightly observes, we must distinguish the
sculpture from the statuary. The former is rich and varied and its
execution and composition are above praise, especially as seen in the
sculpture of the capitals. But the age of iconography was only just
dawning, and the statues show a sad want of proportion and are too
monotonously alike to be really lifelike. The dramatic sentiment is here
interpreted by means of contortions of the limbs and exaggerated facial
movement. Yet among these hundred figures there are at least two
statues that stand out as far superior and more lifelike than any of the
others--namely, those of Christ and of Abraham, whose faces are very
beautiful, and might take their place even beside those of the _Pórtico
de Gloria_, with which we shall occupy ourselves later on.
The tympana of this façade exhibit certain peculiarities which may be
said to be specialities of Gallegan architecture. In other schools the
tympanum is divided into two parts, but here it is not divided.[139] The
tympanum of each gate rests upon the heads of monsters sculptured with
remarkable energy.
Standing with our backs to this façade, we have to our right the offices
of the cathedral chapter and the treasury with its plateresque or
filigree stone-work of the Renaissance style, and in the corner where
the treasury runs into or joins the façade is the gigantic and
much-talked-of Shell of St. James, which supports almost the entire
weight of the wide treasury staircase, and is considered a marvel of
engineering skill. Above the southern end of the treasury building rises
one of the original towers, still in good preservation. It reminds one
somewhat of a Japanese tower, and contrasts strangely with the more
modern ones. There is a tradition among the townspeople that a lady left
a large sum of money to be spent in honour of this tower. Priests in
gorgeous mitres purchased with this money were to make annual
processions beneath its shadow scattering the fumes of incense and
chanting. There is a couplet composed by some local wag, which alludes
to the mitres and incense somewhat mockingly.
On the other side of the _Puerta de las Platerias_ rises the beautiful
clock tower which was begun in the Gothic style in 1463. “We cannot
understand,” writes Sanchez, “how the architects of the seventeenth
century could possibly prefer those great pointed windows (which they
added) to the beautifully shaped Gothic ones of the lower part with
their elegant columns and pilastres!” Here were formerly hung the two
great bells whose metal was presented by Louis XI. of France, and which
were cast in Santiago in 1483. This was one of the first cathedrals to
possess a clock tower, and its example was soon followed by Milan and
Padua. The original clock was the work of a clever mechanic named
Guillen. In 1522 he put up the first one, and ten years later he
replaced it by one of better make. The machinery was most complicated
and curious. This remarkable clock,
[Illustration: THE TREASURY, SANTIAGO CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PUERTA DE LAS PLATERIAS, SANTIAGO CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: PUERTA SANTA, SANTIAGO CATHEDRAL
PHOTOS. BY AUTHOR]
according to Lopez Ferreiro, struck not only the hours, but also the
days, the months, the movable feast days, the course of the sun, and
even the changes of the moon! The last was at the special command of
Cardinal Maldonado. Guillen was also a skilled artist in ornamental
metal work; several specimens of his work are still preserved in the
cathedral, including a candelabra, and the railings of the _Capilla
Mayor_, which he made in conjunction with Pedro Flamenco between 1535
and 1540. The authorities granted him and his wife Constance a house in
the town in 1467. Guillen’s clock having been destroyed, another,
manufactured in London, was put up in its place. The present clock was
paid for by Archbishop Velez and constructed by Andreo Antelo, a skilled
artist of Ferrol, in 1831. There is a long Latin inscription round the
pedestal.[140] The bell which strikes the hours is said to be one of the
best in the world. It was hung towards the close of the eighteenth
century; Villa-Amil gives the date as 1779. Such is the richness and
body of its tone that on calm days it can be heard in the surrounding
valleys at a distance of seven miles. For three months I resided within
a stone’s throw of the cathedral, and never did I listen to the mellow
and sonorous tones of that bell without experiencing a thrill of
pleasure. Galicia’s poetess, Rosalia de Castro, loved to hear it, and
mentions it in one of her poems.
As we have seen, the only one of the seven minor entrances to the
cathedral is the _Puerta Santa_, or, as it is sometimes called, _la
Puerta de los Perdones_; it opens upon the _Plaza de los Literarios_, to
the west of the cathedral. This is the Jubilee door, and is only opened
once in every seven years, on the occasions when the feast of Santiago
falls upon a Sunday; the archbishop himself performs the ceremony. The
Jubilee is celebrated in accordance with the privilege conceded by
Calixtus II. in the year 1122. The _Puerta Santa_, of which the original
sculpture has disappeared, is now adorned with twenty-four Byzantine
statues, whose inscriptions have gone: there are twelve of these in
twelve niches on either side, which have been utilised from the _débris_
of the older parts. Above the door is a large statue of St. James in
pilgrim’s garb with staff in hand; and on either side of him, also in
niches but some three sizes smaller, are the two disciples who were
buried with him. On the tympanum of the inner door are inscribed the
words: “_Haec est Domus Dei et porta Coeli_.” Every Jubilee year for
many a century a choir of blind peasants has stood by this door and
sung to those who entered the simple folk-songs of their native land.
Another entrance on the same side of the cathedral, and the one by which
pilgrims have been wont to enter the sacred precincts from time
immemorial, is called _la Façade y Puerta del Reloj_, or the façade and
door of the clock. It is also called the _Quintana_; because the square
upon which it opens was once the _Quintana de los Muertos_, or the
cemetery of the canons. This square is one of the finest in the town:
its name was changed in honour of those brave students of the University
who formed themselves into a battalion at the time of Napoleon’s
invasion, and fell fighting for the deliverance of their country. A
white marble tablet on the fortress-like wall of the convent of San
Payo, which forms the side of the square opposite to the cathedral,
bears an inscription to their memory. Another side of the square is
formed by a huge monastic pile--the convent of Antealtares--and on the
south the handsome granite building with Doric columns now used as post
and telegraph offices. Many a time have I stood in front of the post
office, sometimes to take a photo of the cathedral, and sometimes to
admire the winding granite balustrades upon the battlement-like towers
and cupola which rise majestically behind the western front. This
façade, with its four stout Doric columns, replaced the original
Romanesque entrance towards the end of the seventeenth century. The
heads of many of the statues on either side of the entrance have long
since disappeared.
We now turn our steps northwards that we may examine the Façade of the
Azabacheria, which faces to the north, and is so called because the
street of the jet-workers[141] leads up to it. Fernandez Sanchez
describes this façade as “without a doubt the best of the modern works
which surround the cathedral.” It was planned by the celebrated Spanish
architect Ventura Rodriguez, and finished under the supervision of a
local genius, Domingo Antonio Luis Montenegro, in 1758. It consists of
two storeys: the lower one is of the Ionic order, the upper of the
Doric. Each has four columns, while the lower one has a pillar in the
centre, separating the two entrances and serving as a basement for a
statue of Faith which is seen in the centre of the upper storey. The
doors and windows have semicircular lintels of the pattern seen in
hundreds of Italian churches of that period. Above these are the arms of
the archbishops, medallions, and other military trophies. To crown all,
there rises the figure of St. James
[Illustration:THE SILVER ALTAR, WITH STATUE OF ST. JAMES, IN SANTIAGO
CATHEDRAL]
[Illustration: THE STONE COFFIN IN WHICH THE LOST BODY OF ST. JAMES WAS
DISCOVERED IN 1879. IT HAD BEEN HIDDEN THERE IN 1589 WHEN SIR FRANCIS
DRAKE ATTACKED CORUÑA]
in pilgrim garb, with a king kneeling on either side of him. Alas,
indeed, that so ordinary and uninteresting a piece of work should have
replaced a façade that must have rivalled that of the _Platerias_ in its
beauty and elegance!
There still remains one more façade for us to study--the western one,
called the Façade of the Obradoira, after the workshops of the
goldsmiths that were once situated in the building to the right. Here we
have what may be called the grand entrance to the cathedral.
Eighteenth-century Italian steps in two winding flights with stone
balustrades lead up to the double doorway, behind which is concealed the
crowning glory of Galicia, the world-famed _Pórtico de Gloria_. On
either side rise the great twin steeples, the lower portions of which
date from the eleventh century and were part of the original Romanesque
towers. “The only peculiarity about them,” wrote Street, “is the
planning of the staircases. The steps are carried all round the steeples
in the thickness of the walls, and the central space is made use of for
a succession of small chambers one above the other. These staircases are
unusually wide and good, and their mode of construction obviously very
strong.”
We stand in the centre of the chief square in the town, the _Plaza de
Alfonso XII._, to study the workmanship of the façade of which the twin
steeples seem to form a part. The general effect of the whole is really
very fine, but we feel as we gaze upon this façade that, to say the
least, it is monotonous even in its grandeur. Yet, for all that, we are
now contemplating a piece of work which is universally acknowledged to
be the most beautiful, the most sumptuous, the most truly magnificent
example of the Churrigueresque style[142] of architecture in the whole
of Spain. So monumental is it that in looking at it we fail to perceive
the details. It is indeed “a perfect example of monumental exuberance.”
As we have remarked in the preceding chapter, the style of Churriguera
is in reality a prolongation and exaggeration of the style which in
Spain is called plateresque; it is a decadent, a _fin du siècle_ style
even at its best, and we have a lurking sensation of sympathy with the
traveller who wickedly designated the style of this façade as _vile_.
However, as the work is unquestionably monumental, it is of interest to
the student of Galicia to learn that its author was a native of that
province, a Gallegan--Fernando de Casas y Novoa.
This façade is composed of three storeys, with columns of the mixed
order and covered profusely with bas-relief twists and curls of granite,
which do not show up at all clearly in any photograph that has come
under my notice. Those, therefore, who wish to form a correct opinion of
it should suspend their judgment until they have had an opportunity of
examining the original.
The doors of this entrance to the cathedral are of cedar wood and
studded with handsome bronze nails, with elaborate plates and knockers
from the workshops of Cordova, so celebrated at the commencement of the
seventeenth century. Below, on a level with the _Plaza de Alfonso XII._,
is the entrance to the so-called _Catedral Vieja_, the little crypt-like
chapel of which we shall have much to say in another chapter.
Let us now find our way to the cathedral cloister, which is described by
Fernandez Sanchez as “a perfect example of the plateresque style,” with
its beautiful bas-reliefs, saints and busts, and the arms of Archbishop
Fonseca, under whose auspices it was built at the same date as the
neighbouring sacristy. The original cloister, erected by Gelmirez, was
destroyed by fire towards the end of the eleventh century; the present
cloister was begun in 1521 and finished fifty-nine years later. It is in
the Renaissance style, and was designed by a Flemish architect; above
its arches, some of which are slightly pointed, the sloping roofs
terminate with a lace-like border of elegant stone filigree work, and
there are graceful pinnacles between the arches. The joins and angles of
the Gothic vaulting of this cloister are groined with simple fan tracery
which springs from its own capitals supported by the graceful and
elegantly moulded pillars which divide the arches on the outer side and
spring from the bas-relief border on the wall side. The graceful
Renaissance windows in the walls give light to the neighbouring sacristy
and other offices of the cathedral.
The inner walls of the cloister are decorated with bands of bas-relief
sculpture in the purest Greco-Roman style of the Renaissance. The
pavement is composed partly of tombstones of priests with interesting
inscriptions and heraldic emblems. Standing in the patio of this
cloister and looking to the south we get a fine view of the two steeple
towers that rise behind the Churrigueresque façade.