he four piers of the crossing, upon
which the pendentives descend, are no larger than the main piers of the
nave. Above the pendentives which stand out, in their undecorated
masonry, the circle is girdled by a carved cyma, above which rises a
double arcade of sixteen arches, each arch flanked by strong and simple
columns with Byzantine caps of barely indicated foliage. Powerful,
intermediate columnar shafts separate the superimposed arcades and carry
on their caps the sixteen ribs that shoot upwards and meet in the great
floral boss at the apex of the inner dome. The lower arcades are
semicircular, the upper, trefoiled, while the intermediate shafts are
broken by two band-courses. All the moldings, and especially the
energetic, muscular ribs, are splendidly simple and vigorous in their
undecorated profiles. The lower arcade is blind, the upper admits light
through timidly slender apertures, with the exception of every fourth
arch, which coincides with an exterior turret.

[Illustration: Photo by J. Lacoste, Madrid

CATHEDRAL OF SALAMANCA

The Tower of the Cock]

Externally the lantern is even more remarkable than internally. As seen
from within, it is faced alternately by four tympanums and four turrets.
These are broken by long, narrow, round-headed openings, vivified by
ball moldings ornamenting the heavy rounding of their splays. The
tympanums, as well as the windows between them, and the turrets are
flanked by a series of Romanesque columns. Their grouping, the deep
reveals and resulting shadows, the play of light and shade brought out
in the foliage of their various caps, which is but indicated in the
simple manner of the style, and the adjacent moldings, all give a most
archaic impression. The roofing of the turrets, as well as that of the
outer dome, suggests a stone coat-of-mail. The flags are laid in
scallops or stepped rows, like the scales of a fish, giving a far
tighter joint than the stone channels covering the roofing of Avila
Cathedral. The outline of the dome is that of a cone with a slightly
modulated curve, perhaps unconsciously affected by a Moorish
delineation. The angles are marked by bold crockets. Above, crowning the
apex, perches the cock, gayly facing whatever part of the heavens the
wind blows from. There is an everlasting triumph in it all, reminding
one not a little of that won at a later date in Santa Maria del Fiore.
Salamanca holds the religious triumph of a militant age; Florence, the