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Simms, William Gilmore, 1806-1870 [1854], Southward ho! A spell of sunshine. (Redfield, New York) [word count] [eaf686T].
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CHAPTER II.

The scene changed even as I gazed. The crowd had disappeared.
The vast multitude was gone from sight, and mine eye,
which had strained after the last of their retreating shadows,
now dropped its lids on vacancy. Soon, however, instead of the
great waste of space and sky, which left me without place of rest
for sight, I beheld the interior of a vast and magnificent hall,
most like the interior of some lofty cathedral. The style of the
building was arabesque, at once richly and elaborately wrought,
and sombre. The pointed arches, reached by half-moon involutions,
with the complex carvings and decorations of cornice,
column, and ceiling, at once carried me back to those wondrous
specimens which the art of the Saracen has left rather for our
admiration than rivalry. The apartment was surrounded by a
double row of columns; slender shafts, which seemed rather the
antennæ of graceful plants than bulks and bodies of stone and
marble, rising for near fifty feet in height, then gradually

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spreading in numerous caryatides, resembling twisted and unfolding
serpents, to the support of the vast roof. All appearance
of bulk, of cumbrousness, even of strength, seemed lost in the
elaborate delicacy with which these antennæ stretched themselves
from side to side, uniting the several arches in spans of
the most airy lightness and beauty. The great roof for which
they furnished the adequate support, rose too high in the but
partial light which filled the hall, to enable me to gather more
than an imperfect idea of its character and workmanship. But
of its great height the very incapacity to define its character afforded
me a sufficient notion. Where the light yielded the desired
opportunity, I found the flowery beauty of the architecture, on
every hand, to be alike inimitable. To describe it would be impossible.
A thousand exquisite points of light, the slenderest
beams, seemed to depend, like so many icicles, from arch and
elevation — to fringe the several entrances and windows — to
hang from every beam and rafter; and to cast over all, an appearance
so perfectly aerial, as to make me doubtful, at moments,
whether the immense interior which I saw them span, with the
massive but dusky ceiling which they were intended to sustain,
were not, in fact, a little world of wood, with the blue sky dimly
overhead, a realm of vines and flowers, with polished woodland
shafts, lavishly and artfully accumulated in the open air, so as
to produce, in an imperfect light, a delusive appearance of architectural
weight, magnificence and majesty. An immense avenue,
formed of columns thus embraced and bound together by the
most elaborate and fantastic carvings, linked vines, boughs,
flowers and serpents, opened before me, conducting the eye
through far vistas of the same description, thus confirming the
impression of cathedral avenues of forest. The eye, beguiled
along these passages, wandered into others quite as interminable,
with frequent glimpses into lateral ranges quite as wonderful and
ample, until the dim perspective was shut, not because of the
termination of the passage, but because of the painful inability
in the sight any further to pursue it. Each of these avenues
had its decorations, similarly elaborate and ornate with the rest
of the interior. Vines and flowers, stars and wreaths, crosses
and circles — with such variety of form and color as the kaleidoscope
only might produce in emulation of the fancy — were all

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present, but symmetrically duplicated, so as to produce an equal
correspondence on each side, figure answering to figure. But
these decorations were made tributary to other objects. Numerous
niches opened to the sight, as you penetrated the mighty
avenue, in which stood noble and commanding forms; — statues
of knights in armor; of princes; great men who had swayed
nations; heroes, who had encountered dragons for the safety of
the race; and saintly persons, who had called down blessings
from heaven upon the nation in the hour of its danger and its
fear. The greater number of these stood erect as when in life;
but some sat, some reclined, and others knelt; but all, save for the
hue of the marble in which they were wrought — so exquisite
was the art which they had employed — would have seemed to
be living even then. Around the apartment which I have been
describing, were double aisles, or rather avenues, formed by sister
columns, corresponding in workmanship and style, if not in size,
with those which sustained the roof. These were deep and
sepulchral in shadow, but withal very attractive and lovely
places; retreats of shade, and silence, and solemn beauty;
autumnal walks, where the heart which had been wounded by
the shafts and sorrows of the world, might fly, and be secure,
and where the form, wandering lonely among the long shadows
of grove and pillar, and in the presence of noble and holy images
of past worth and virtue, might still maintain the erect stature
which belongs to elevated fancies, to purest purposes, and great
designs for ever working in the soul.

But it would be idle to attempt to convey, unless by generalities,
any definite idea of the vast and magnificent theatre, or of
that singular and sombre beauty with which I now found myself
surrounded. Enough, that, while I was absorbed, with my whole
imagination deeply excited by the architectural grandeur which
I surveyed, I had grown heedless of the progress of events
among certain human actors — if I may be thus permitted to designate
the creatures of a vision — which had meanwhile taken
their places in little groups in a portion of the ample area.
While mine eyes had been uplifted in the contemplation of things
inanimate, it appears that a human action was in progress on a
portion of the scene below. I was suddenly aroused by a stir
and bustle, followed by a faint murmur, as of applauding voices,

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which at length reached my ears, and diverted my gaze from the
remote and lofty, to the rich tesselated pavement of the apartment.
If the mere splendor of the structure had so fastened
upon my imagination, what can I say of the scene which now
commanded my attention! There was the pomp of courts, the
pride of majesty, the glory of armor, the grace and charm of
aristocratic beauty, in all her plumage, to make me forgetful of
all other display. I now beheld groups of noble persons, clad
in courtly dresses, in knightly armor, sable and purple, with a
profusion of gold and jewels, rich scarfs, and plumes of surpassing
splendor. Other groups presented me with a most imposing
vision of that gorgeous church, whose mitred prelates could place
their feet upon the necks of mightiest princes, and sway, for good
or evil, the destinies of conflicting nations. There were priests
clad in flowing garments, courtiers in silks, and noblest dames,
who had swayed in courts from immemorial time. Their long
and rustling trains were upborne by damsels and pages, lovely
enough, and richly enough arrayed, to be apt ministers in the
very courts of Love himself. A chair of state, massive, and
richly draped in purple and gold, with golden insignia, over which
hung the jeweled tiara of sovereignty, was raised upon a dais
some five feet above the level of the crowd. This was filled by
a tall and slender person, to whom all made obeisance as to an
imperial master. He was habited in sable, a single jewel upon
his brow, bearing up a massive shock of feathers as black and
glossy as if wrought out of sparkling coal. The air of majesty
in his action, the habitual command upon his brow, left me in no
doubt of his sovereign state, even had the obeisance of the multitude
been wanting. But he looked not as if long destined to
hold sway in mortal provinces. His person was meagre, as if
wasted by disease. His cheeks were pale and hollow; while a
peculiar brightness of the eyes shone in painful contrast with the
pale and ghastly color of his face. Behind his chair stood one
who evidently held the position of a favorite and trusted counsellor.
He was magnificently habited, with a profusion of jewels,
which nevertheless added but little to the noble air and exquisite
symmetry of his person. At intervals he could be seen to bend
over to the ear of the prince, as if whispering him in secret.
This show of intimacy, if pleasing to his superior, was yet

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evidently of different effect upon many others in the assembly.
The costume of the place was that of the Norman sway in England,
before the Saxons had quite succeeded, — through the
jealousy entertained by the kings, of their nobles, — in obtaining
a share of those indulgences which finally paved the way to
their recognition by the conquerors. Yet, even in this respect
of costume, I was conscious of some discrepancies. Some of the
habits worn were decidedly Spanish; but as these were mingled
with others which bore conclusive proof of the presence of the
wearers in the wars of the Crusades, it was not improbable that
they had been adopted as things of fancy, from a free communion
of the parties with knights of Spain whom they had
encountered in the Holy Land.

But I was not long permitted to bestow my regards on a subject
so subordinate as dress. The scene was evidently no mere
spectacle. Important and adverse interests were depending —
wild passions were at work, and the action of a very vivid drama
was about to open upon me. A sudden blast of a trumpet penetrated
the hall. I say blast, though the sounds were faint as if
subdued by distance. But the note itself, and the instrument
could not have been mistaken. A stir ensued among the spectators.
The crowd divided before an outer door, and those more
distant bent forward, looking in this direction with an eager anxiety
which none seemed disposed to conceal. They were not
long kept in suspense. A sudden unfolding of the great valves
of the entrance followed, when a rush was made from without.
The tread of heavy footsteps, the waving of tall plumes, and a
murmur from the multitude, announced the presence of other
parties for whom the action of the drama was kept in abeyance.
The crowd opened from right to left, and one of the company
stood alone, with every eye of the vast assemblage fixed curiously
upon his person.

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Simms, William Gilmore, 1806-1870 [1854], Southward ho! A spell of sunshine. (Redfield, New York) [word count] [eaf686T].
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