Cathedral of the Sea

The masons began to divide the men. Arnau and Joanet ran to the rear of the old church and stood with their backs to the wall, watching the preparations. When Berenguer saw that the three groups had formed, he went on:

“Each group will haul on one of the cables. You,” he said, addressing one of the groups, “are to be Santa Maria. Repeat after me: Santa Maria!”

The men all shouted: “Santa Maria!”

“You are Santa Clara.” The second group called out the name of Santa Clara. “And you over there are Santa Eulàlia. I’ll call you by those names. When I shout, ‘Everyone!’ I mean all three groups. When you are in position, you have to pull in a straight line, and keep your eyes on the back of the man in front of you. Listen for the instructions from the mason in charge of each group. And remember: always pull in a straight line! Now line up.”

The mason leading each group made sure they were in line. The cables were made ready, and the men picked them up. Before the boys could start wondering what was going to happen, Berenguer shouted again:

“Everyone! When I give the word, start to pull—gently at first, until you can feel the cables grow taut. Now!”

Arnau and Joanet watched the three lines pull until the cables were taut.

“Everyone! Pull hard!”

The boys held their breath. The men dug their heels into the ground and started to pull. Their arms, backs, and faces tensed. Arnau and Joanet stared at the huge block of stone. It had not budged.

“Everyone! Pull harder!”

The order rang out round the church. The men’s faces went purple with effort. The wooden scaffolding started to creak. The keystone rose a hand’s breadth from the ground. Six tons!

“More!” shouted Berenguer, his gaze fixed on the keystone.

Another few inches. The boys had almost forgotten to breathe.

“Santa Maria! Pull harder! Harder!”

Arnau and Joanet looked toward the Santa Maria line. Father Albert was among them. He had his eyes shut and was pulling with all his might.

“That’s right, Santa Maria! That’s right. Now everyone: pull!”

The wooden scaffolding creaked again. Arnau and Joanet glanced at it and then at Berenguer de Montagut. He was staring intently at the stone, which slowly, very slowly, rose into the air.

“Heave! Come on, everyone. Pull harder!”

When the keystone reached the level of the first scaffolding, Berenguer ordered the groups to stop pulling, and to keep the stone in the air.

“Santa Maria and Santa Eulàlia, stop pulling,” he ordered. “Santa Clara, you pull!” The stone moved sideways until it reached the platform Berenguer was standing on. “Now, everyone! Slacken off the ropes little by little.”

Everyone, including all those hauling on the ropes, held his breath as the stone came to rest on the wooden structure, close to Berenguer’s feet.

“Slowly!” he cried out.

The platform buckled under the weight of the stone.

“What if it gives way?” Arnau whispered to Joanet.

If it gave way, Berenguer ...

It did not give way. But the scaffold had not been built to withstand such a weight for any length of time. The keystone had to be hauled to the top, where Berenguer had calculated that the platforms were more resistant. The workmen changed the cables onto the next set of pulleys, and the men started to haul on them again. The next platform, then the one after that; six tons of stone rose to the spot where the vaulted arches were to come together, high in the heavens above all their heads.

The men were sweating; their muscles had seized up. From time to time, one of them collapsed, and the builder in charge of that line ran to pull him out from under the feet of the man in front. Some strong-looking men from the city were among the crowd, and whenever a man dropped out, they took over.

Berenguer continued to shout orders from high up on the scaffolding. Another man lower down made sure all the groups heard him. When the keystone finally reached the topmost platform, a few smiles appeared on tightly drawn lips, but they all knew that the most crucial moment had arrived. Berenguer de Montagut had calculated the exact position where the keystone had to be placed so that the vaults of the arches would fit perfectly around it. For days he had used ropes and stakes to calculate the precise spot in between the ten columns. He had dropped plumb lines from the scaffolding and tied ropes from the stakes on the ground up to the top. He had spent hour after hour scribbling on parchment, then scratching out the figures and writing over them. If the keystone was not placed exactly right, it would not support the stress from the arches, and the whole apse could come crashing down.