Have you ever walked through the cloister of Vic Cathedral and noticed a group of three slender Gothic columns marked at their base with a small coat of arms depicting a castle? These aren’t just decorative elements. They are the material legacy of a fourteenth-century canon who ensured his memory would be carved into the very stones of the cathedral he served.
During the collection of art commission for the city of Vic, I came across the testament of Guillem Castelló, canon of Vic, dated 13 July 1332. In his will, Castelló bequeathed seventy shillings to the construction of three columns bearing his personal emblem — in his exact words, “fiant de dictis septuagintis solidos in dicto claustro tres columpne de meo signo.”
Remarkably, these columns still exist. Despite the Gothic cloister having been dismantled and moved to a new location in the 18th century to make way for the construction of a new Baroque cathedral, Castelló’s bequest survived. In the Gothic cloister, one can find a group of three columns clearly marked at their base with a castle-shaped coat of arms, almost certainly Guillem Castelló’s personal signum. This direct link between a written source and a surviving architectural element is a rare and vivid example of how medieval individuals sought to shape both the spiritual and physical spaces around them, binding together memory, identity and devotion in a permanent manner.
Even more intriguing is the fact that Castelló’s columns were not alone. There are two other sets of three columns, each bearing a different coat of arms: one shows a wing, while another displays diagonal stripes. While I have not yet identified the benefactors behind these emblems, the repetition of this three-column motif suggests a broader pattern of patronage and personal commemoration in the construction of the cloister. These columns stand not only as structural supports but also as enduring monuments to those who contributed to building the church and to those who wished to remain part of it, even after death.
So next time you stroll through the cloister of Vic, paused for a moment beneath the arches. Look down at the bases of the columns. You may be reading a 700-year-old message from the past, a stone-bound memorial from those who helped build the church and who, in doing so, made themselves part of this sacred building forever.
by Aina Palarea