Now I wish I had seen it!
But there was that lithograph of the cathedral by Gustave Simonau, the
great Belgian artist, hanging above your desk, in the den, Padre. I used
to study it when I should have been studying my lessons, fascinated by
the splendid facade, the twin towers, the three "portals of the
Trinity," the rose-window, the gallery of kings, the angels, the saints,
the gargoyles and all the carved stone lace-work which the picture so
wonderfully shows.
On the opposite side of the room was Simonau's Cathedral of Chartres, in
a dark frame to match, and I remember your saying that Chartres was
considered by some critics even finer than Rheims. The Cathedral of
Chartres seemed a romantic monument of history to me, because it was
built as a shrine for the "tunic of the Virgin"; but the Gothic
Notre-Dame of Rheims appealed to my--perhaps prophetic--soul. Maybe I
had a latent presentiment of how I should see the real cathedral, as _la
grande blessee_ of the greatest war of the world.
Anyhow, I always took a deep interest in Rheims from the day I first
gaped, an open-mouthed child, at that beautiful drawing, and I was glad
I'd forgotten none of its details, as we motored toward the martyr town.
Usually there's Brian, who can tell the dear Becketts all they don't
know and want to know, but this time they'd only me to depend upon. And
when I think what a cruel fraud I am at heart, there's some consolation
in serving them, even in small ways.
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