Coordinates: 32°56′51.2880″S 60°37′55.4880″W / 32.94758°S 60.63208°W / -32.94758; -60.63208
The Cathedral Basilica Shrine of Our Lady of the Rosary is a minor basilica and cathedral dedicated to the local Virgin of the Rosary, in the city of Rosario, province of Santa Fe, Argentina. It is the motherchurch of the Archdiocese of Rosario.
The basilica is located on the oldest part of the city, at the corner of Buenos Aires St. and Córdoba St., besides the Palacio de los Leones (that is, the municipal building), across the pedestrian path called Pasaje Juramento ("Oath Passage") that leads into the National Flag Memorial. The basilica faces Plaza 25 de Mayo (May 25th Square), also bordered by the Central Post Office.
The first parish was built in this site in 1731, at a time when Rosario was no more than a small scattered village on the shore of the Paraná River. The image of the Virgin of the Rosary was brought from Cádiz, Spain, in 1773.
The basilica dates from the last part of the 19th century; it was first projected in 1882 and its construction started in 1887. Its altar is of Italian origin, and it was made of Carrara marble. The motherchurch was officially named a cathedral at the canonical erection of the Diocese of Rosario, on 20 April 1934, and it became a basilica on 7 October 1966.
The cathedral is on the list of works and sites of patrimonial value of the municipality of Rosario, as item 011161200.
Famous quotes containing the words cathedral, basilica, lady and/or rosary:
“... and met
At numerous cathedral cities
Unknown to the clergy.”
—Philip Larkin (1922–1986)
“Christians are to be taught that the pope would and should wish to give of his own money, even though he had to sell the basilica of St. Peter, to many of those from whom certain hawkers of indulgences cajole money.”
—Martin Luther (1483–1546)
“In adding up her assets, the ambitious lady calculated the worth of her beautiful body as coldly as everything else.”
—Mason Cooley (b. 1927)
“Dust rises from the main road and old Délira is stooping in front of her hut. She doesn’t look up, she softly shakes her head, her headkerchief all askew, letting out a strand of grey hair powdered, it appears, with the same dust pouring through her fingers like a rosary of misery. She repeats, “we will all die”, and she calls on the good Lord.”
—Jacques Roumain (1907–1945)