The whole church was practically dedicated to the memory of Spain’s greatest soldier, the Great Captain, Gonzalo de Cordova, who was buried here, but whose ashes have been transferred to Madrid. The hero and his duchess are shown, sculptured, kneeling in prayer on either side of the high altar, over which rises a magnificent retablo, divided into several compartments filled with reliefs and statues. The horizontal sections are in the Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, and composite Orders respectively. The lowest central compartment is occupied by the Tabernacle, the subjects of the three compartments immediately above being the Immaculate Conception, St. Jerome, and the Crucifixion. Over all is shown the figure of the Eternal Father. This splendid work, the best of its kind in Spain, seems to have been executed by a variety of artists, among them Juan de Aragon, Pedro de Orea, and Pedro de Raxis. The beautiful shell-like vaulting above is adorned with figures of the Apostles, of Saints Barbara, Katharine, Magdalen, and Lucy, and the warrior-saints, George, Eustace, Martin, Sebastian, and Francis. The sword given by the Pope to the Great Captain, formerly one of the treasures of the chapel, was carried off by Sebastiani during the Peninsular War. There are a great many beautiful things in this old church which seem to escape the ordinary traveller’s notice. The seats in the choir were designed by Siloe. The frescoes, representing the Triumph of the Church, of the Virgin, and of the Eucharist, the Assumption, &c., are very well done. The restoration of the fabric has often been denounced, but it is difficult to see how it could have been better carried out. In the neighbourhood of the Great Captain’s chapel is a monument to a hero and a great Spaniard of a very different type. Juan de Robles devoted himself to the sick and the suffering with a zeal which earned for him confinement in a madman’s cage. His virtues were recognised after his death, and procured him canonisation as St. John of God in 1669. A tribute to his memory which he would have no doubt appreciated better is the large hospital founded two years after his death, that is, in 1552. The saint’s ashes, in a silver coffin, repose in the hospital chapel, a gorgeous structure, characterised by costliness and bad taste. The trail of the serpent of Spanish architecture--Churriguera--is over all. All that is interesting in it is the portrait of the saint, a copy of one in Madrid.