Plaza de Doña Elvira and Calle Susona: The Skull Above the Door
Why is it significant?
Sit for a moment on one of the tiled benches of the Plaza de Doña Elvira, under the orange trees, with the little fountain murmuring in the middle. It is the most peaceful square in Seville. And around the corner, on a short lane called Calle Susona, a painted tile shows a human skull.
Key Facts
| Place | Plaza de Doña Elvira and Calle Susona: The Skull Above the Door |
|---|---|
| Address | Plaza de Doña Elvira, 41004 Sevilla, Spain |
| Geo Coordinates | 37.38490, -5.99060 |
| Part of Walk | The Lost Judería of Seville: Santa Cruz, Susona and the Synagogues That Became Churches |
| Generated | Generated |
Sit for a moment on one of the tiled benches of the Plaza de Doña Elvira, under the orange trees, with the little fountain murmuring in the middle. It is the most peaceful square in Seville. And around the corner, on a short lane called Calle Susona, a painted tile shows a human skull.
That lane was once called Calle de la Muerte, the Street of Death, and the story behind it is Seville's best-known legend. In 1481, as the Inquisition began its work, a wealthy converso named Diego de Susán is said to have gathered other conversos to plan armed resistance against the inquisitors. That Diego de Susán was among the first to be condemned that year is recorded. What follows is legend.
Diego had a daughter, Susona, famous as the most beautiful woman in Seville. She had a Christian lover, and, the story goes, she betrayed her father's plot to him to save his life. The conspirators were arrested and burned. Susona, unable to live with what she had done, ended her days in repentance, and in her will she asked that her head be hung above the door of her house as a warning. Legend says the skull stayed there for generations, and the tile on Calle Susona marks the spot.
Is any of it true beyond the father's death? Nobody can say. But a city tells its legends for a reason. This one turns a political tragedy, people persecuted for their origins, into a romantic tale about love and guilt. It is easier to remember a beautiful traitor than six people burned on a February morning.
And yet the barrio goes on living. Just off this square runs Calle Vida, the Street of Life, answering the old Street of Death a few metres away. You have walked through three former synagogues, a lost gate, a lost cemetery, a lost grave and a burning ground, and you end among orange trees and children chasing pigeons. That is Santa Cruz: beautiful, and worth remembering properly. The Alcázar and the Cathedral are only a minute away, through the lane at the corner.