and the other Renaissance, the body
of each of them bearing the arms of the Cathedral, the Agnus Dei, and
the ever-present lions and castles. The rejas, closing off choir and
Capilla Mayor in the customary manner, are heavy and ungainly. On the
other hand, the trascoro, that often sadly blocks up the sweep of the
nave, is unusually low and comparatively inconspicuous. It contains
reliefs of the life of Christ, from the first half of the sixteenth
century, by Juan Res and Luis Giraldo. The choir itself is so compact
that it only occupies one bay. The chapter evidently was a modest one.
The stalls are of elaborate Renaissance workmanship. The verger now in
charge, with the voice of a hoarse crow, reads you the name of the
carver as the Dutchman "Cornelis 1536."

Strange to say, there are no doors leading, as they logically should,
into the centre of the arms of the transept. Through some perversity,
altars have taken their place, while the northern and southern entrances
have been pushed westward, opening into the first bays of the side
aisles. The southern door leads to a vestibule, the sacristy with fine
Gothic vaulting disfigured by later painting, a fine fifteenth-century
chapel and the cloisters. None of this can be seen from the front, as it
is hidden by adjoining houses and a bare, pilastered wall crowned by a
carved Renaissance balustrade. The galleries of the present cloisters
are later Gothic work with Plateresque decorations and arches walled up.

Avila Cathedral is, as it were, a part and parcel of the history of
Castile during the reigns of her early kings, the turbulent times when
self-preservation was the only thought, any union of provinces far in
the future, and a Spanish kingdom undreamed of. She was a great church
in a small kingdom, in the empire she became insignificant. Much of her
history is unknown, but in the days of her power, she was certainly
associated with all great events in old Castile. Her influence grew
with her emoluments and the ever-increasing body of ecclesiastical
functionaries. In times of war, she became a fortress, and her bishop
was no longer master of his house. The Captain-General took command of
the bastions, as of those of the Alcazar, and soldiers took the place of
priests in the galleries. She was the key to the city, and on her flat
roofs the opposing armies closed in the final struggle for victory.

The Cathedral has, in fact, only an eastern and a northern elevation,
t