ut little room or breathing
space either for palace or hovel, and the buildings adjacent to a
cathedral generally nestled close to its sides. The plaza of Segovia is
unusually large compared to the area of the little city. The clearing
away of Santa Clara and San Miguel and all the smaller surrounding
edifices condemned for the Cathedral site, left much room also in front
of the western entrance for a fine broad platform as well as an
unobstructed view from the opposite side of the square. Most of the
flights of granite steps leading to it from the streets below are now
closed by iron gates and overgrown with grass and weeds. The days of the
great processions are past, when the various trades, led by their bands
of musicians, filed up to deliver their offerings towards the
construction, and the staircases are no longer thronged by devout
Segovian citizens anxious to see the daily progress of the work. The
platform is paved with innumerable granite slabs which in the old
Cathedral covered the tombs of the city's illustrious citizens, whose
names may still be easily deciphered.

Taken as a whole, the facade is bald and void of charm. It is neither
good nor especially faulty, of a certain strength, but without interest
or merit. It is logically subdivided by five pronounced buttresses
marking the nave, side aisles and outer row of chapels. Their relative
heights and the lines of their roofing are clearly defined. To the
north, a rather insignificant turret terminates the facade, while to the
south rises the lofty tower, three hundred and forty-five feet above the
whole mountain of masonry, the most conspicuous landmark in the
landscape of Segovia. It consists of a square base of sides thirty-five
feet wide, broken by six rows of twin arches; the first, the third and
the sixth are open, the last is a belfry. The present dome curves from
an octagonal Renaissance base, the transitional corners being filled
with crocketed pyramids similar to the many crowning buttresses and
piers at all angles of the church below. The dome and lantern are almost
exact smaller counterparts of those crowning the crossing. They were put
up by the same architect, Mogaguren, who certainly could not have been
over-gifted with artistic imagination. The tower had varying
fortunes,--much to the distress of the citizens, it has been twice
struck by lightning. The wooden structure and lead covering were burned
and melted by the fire which followed the fi