Under the Witches' Moon: A Romantic Tale of Mediaeval Rome

by Nathan Gallizier

  CHAPTER XI

  THE DENUNCIATION

  The Basilica of Constantine no longer retained its pristine splendor,its pristine purity as in the days, ere the revival of paganism by theEmperor Julian the Apostate had put a sudden and impressive check uponthe meretricious defilement of the glory, for which it was built.

  The exterior began to show signs of decay. The interior, too, hadchanged with the inexorable trend of the times. The solemn recesseswere filled with precious relics. Many hued tapers surrounded theglorious pillars, and eastern tapestries wreathed their fringes roundthe massive altars.

  As Tristan entered the incense-saturated dusk of St. Peter's, the firstpart of the service had just been concluded. The last faint echoes fromthe voices in the choir still hovered upon the air, and the silentcrowds of worshippers were still grouped in their listening attitudesand absorbed in their devotions.

  The only light was bestowed by the evening sun, duskily illuminatingthe emblazoned windows, or by the glimmer of lamps in distantshrines, hung with sable velvet and attended each by its own group ofministering priests.

  Struck with an indefinable awe Tristan looked about. At first he onlyrealized the great space, the four long rows of closely set columns,and the great triumphal arch which framed the mosaics of the apse,where Constantine stood in the clouds offering his Basilica to theSaviour and St. Peter. Then he looked towards the sacred shrinesabove the Apostle's grave, where lamps burned incessantly and cast adazzling halo above the high altar, reflected in the silver paving ofthe presbytery and on the golden gates and images of the Confessio.Immediately behind the altar was revealed a long panel of gold, studdedwith gems and ornaments, with figures of Christ and the Apostles, anative offering from the Emperor Valentinian III. The high altar andits brilliant surroundings were seen from the nave between a double rowof twisted marble columns, white as snow. A beam covered with plates ofsilver united them and supported great silver images of the Saviour,the Virgin and the Apostles with lilies and candelabra.

  To their shrines, to do homage, had in time come the Kings from allthe earth: Oswy, King of the Northumbrians, Caedwalla, King of theWest Saxons, Coenred, King of the Mercians, and with him his sonSigher, King of the East Saxons. Even Macbeth is said to have madethe pilgrimage. Ethelwulf came in the middle of the ninth century,and with him came his son Alfred. In the arcades beneath the columnedvestibule of the Basilica, tomb succeeded tomb. Here the popes wereburied, Leo I, the Great, being first in line, the Saxon Pilgrim Kings,the Emperors Honorius III and Theodosius II, regarding whom St. JohnChrysostomus has written: "Emperors were proud to stand in the hallkeeping guard at the fisherman's door."

  During the interval between the divisions of the service, Tristan,like many of those present, found his interest directed towards therelics, which were inclosed in a silver cabinet with crystal doors andplaced above the high altar. Although it was impossible to obtain asatisfactory view of these ecclesiastical treasures, they neverthelessoccupied his attention till it was diverted by the appearance of amonk in the habit of the Benedictines, who had mounted the richlycarved pulpit fixed between two pillars.

  As far as Tristan was enabled to follow the trend of the sermon itteemed with allusions to the state of society and religion as itprevailed throughout the Christian world, and especially in the cityof the Pontiff. By degrees the monk's eloquence took on darker andmore terrible tints, as he seemed slowly to pass from generalities topersonal allusions, which increased the fear and mortification of thegreat assembly with every moment.

  From the shadows of the shrine, where he had chosen his station,Tristan was enabled to mark every shade of the emotions which swayedthe multitudes and, as his eyes roamed inadvertently towards the chapelof the Father Confessor, he saw a continuous stream of penitents enterthe dark passage leading towards the crypts, many of whom were masked.

  Turning his head by chance, Tristan's glance fell upon two men who hadapparently just entered the Basilica and paused a few paces away, tolisten to the words which the monk hurled like thunderbolts across theheads of his listeners. Despite their precaution to wear masks, Tristanrecognized the Grand Chamberlain in the one, while his companion, thehunchback, appeared rather uncomfortable in the sanctified air of theBasilica.

  Hitherto Odo of Cluny's attacks on the existing state had been general.Now he glanced over the crowd, as if in quest of some special object,as with strident voice he declaimed:

  "Repent! Death stands behind you! The flag of your glory shall ceaseto wave on the towers of your strong citadel. Destruction clamors atyour palace gates, and the enemy that cometh upon you unaware is anenemy that none shall vanquish or subdue, not even they who are themightiest among the mighty. Blood stains the earth and the sky. Itsred waves swallow up the land! The heavens grow pale and tremble! Thesilver stars blacken and decay, and the winds of the desert make lamentfor that which shall come to pass, ere ever the grapes be pressed orthe harvest gathered. It is a scarlet sea wherein, like a broken anddeserted ship, Rome flounders, never to rise again--"

  He paused for a moment and caught his breath hard.

  "The Scarlet Woman of Babylon is among us!" he cried. "Hence! accursedtempter. Thou poisoner of peace, thou quivering sting in the flesh,destroyer of the strength of manhood! Theodora!--thou abomination--thoutyrannous treachery! What shall be done unto thee in the hour ofdarkness? Put off the ornaments of gold, the jewels, wherewith thouadornest thy beauty, and crown thyself with the crown of endlessaffliction. For thou shalt be girdled about with flame and fire shallbe thy garment. Thy lips that have drunk sweet wine shall be steepedin bitterness! Vainly shalt thou make thyself fair and call upon thylegion of lovers. They shall be as dead men, deaf to thine entreaties,and none shall respond to thy call! None shall hide thee from shameand offer thee comfort! In the midst of thy lascivious delights shaltthou suddenly perish, and my soul shall be avenged on thy sins,queen-courtesan of the earth!"

  Scarcely had the last word died to silence when a blinding flash oflightning rent the gloom followed by a tremendous crash of thunderthat shook the great edifice to its foundation. The bronze portalsopened as of their own accord and a terrific gust of wind extinguishedevery light in the thousand-jetted candelabrum. Impenetrable darknessreigned--thick, suffocating darkness, as the thunder rolled away ingrand, sullen echoes.

  There was a momentary lull, then, piercing the profound gloom, camethe cries and shrieks of frightened women, the horrible, selfishscrambling, struggling and pushing of a bewildered multitude. Averitable frenzy of fear seemed to possess every one. Groans and sobs,entreaties and curses from those, who, intent on saving themselves,were brutally trying to force a passage to the door, the heart-rending,frantic appeals of the women--all these sounds increased the horrorof the situation, and Tristan, blind, giddy and confused, listened tothe uproar about him with somewhat of the affrighted, panic-strickencompassion that a stranger in hell might feel, while hearkening to theceaseless plaints of the self-tortured damned.

  Lost in a dim stupefaction of wonderment, Tristan remained where hestood, while the crowds rushed from the Basilica. As he was about tofollow in their wake, his gaze was attracted towards the chapel of theGrand Penitentiary, from which came a number of masked personages whilehe, to whose keeping were confided crimes of a magnitude that seemedbeyond the extensive powers of absolution, was barely visible under thecowl, which was drawn deeply over his forehead.

  The thought occurred to Tristan to seek the ear of the Confessor, in asmuch as the Pontiff to whom he had hoped to lay bare his heart couldnot grant him an audience.

  The lateness of the hour and the uncertainty of the fate of the Monkof Cluny prevented him from following the prompting of the moment and,staggering rather than walking, Tristan made for the portals of St.Peter's and walked unseeing into the gathering dusk.