Angelology(193)

“Ex angelis,” Verlaine said.

Verlaine stepped so close to the tapestry that he could see the intricate patterns of threads

composing the fabric of the scene. The material smelled loamy, centuries of exposure to dust and air

an inextricable part of it. Sabine Clementine, who had been standing quietly nearby, waiting to be of

assistance, came to their side. “Come,” she said softly. “You are here for the tapestries. They are my

specialty.”

Without waiting for a response, Sabine walked to the first panel. She said, “The Hunt of the

Unicorn tapestries are the great masterpieces of the medieval era, seven panels woven of wool and

silk. Together the panels depict a courtly hunting party—you can see for yourself the hounds, knights,

maidens, and castles, framed by fountains and forests. The precise provenance of the tapestries

remains something of a mystery, even after years of study, but art historians agree that the style points

to Brussels around the year 1500. The first written documentation of the Unicorn Tapestries emerged

in the seventeenth century, when the tapestries were cataloged as part of the estate of a noble French

family. They were discovered and restored in the mid-nineteenth century. John D. Rockefeller Jr.

paid over one million dollars for them in the 1920s. In my opinion it was a bargain. Many historians

believe them to be the finest example of medieval art in the world.”

Verlaine gazed at the tapestry, drawn to its vibrant color and the unicorn that reclined at the center

of the woven panel, a milk-white beast, its great horn raised.

“Tell me, mademoiselle,” Gabriella said, a hint of challenge in her voice, “have you come to help

us or to give us a guided tour?”

“You will need a guide,” Sabine replied pointedly. “Do you see the block of stitches between the

letters?” She gestured to the E A initials above the unicorn.

“It looks like there was pretty intensive restoration work,” Verlaine replied, as if the answer to

Gabriella’s question were the most obvious one in the world. “It was damaged?”

“Extensively,” Sabine Clementine said. “The tapestries were looted during the French Revolution

—stolen from a chateau and used for decades to cover peasants’ fruit trees from frost. Although the

fabric has been lovingly, painstakingly restored, the damage is apparent if one looks closely.”

As Gabriella examined the tapestry, her thoughts appeared to take a new turn. She said, “Mrs.

Rockefeller was given the enormous challenge of hiding the instrument, and according to the clue she

gave as instructions, she indeed chose to hide it here, in the Cloisters.”

“It would seem that way,” Verlaine said, gazing at her expectantly.

“To accomplish this she would have needed to find a location that was well guarded and yet

exposed, safe yet accessible, so that the instrument could eventually be recovered.” Gabriella took a

deep breath and looked about the room—crowds had gathered in clusters before the tapestries. She

lowered her voice to a whisper. “We can see firsthand that hiding something as unwieldy as a lyre—

an instrument consisting of a large body and crossbars, which are generally of sizable proportions—

in an intimate museum like the Cloisters would be almost impossible. And yet we know she has

managed it.”

“Are you suggesting that the lyre isn’t really here?” Verlaine asked.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Gabriella said. “It is exactly the opposite. I don’t think

Abigail Rockefeller would send us on a wild-goose chase. I have been thinking over the dilemma of

there being four locations for one instrument and have come to the conclusion that Abigail

Rockefeller was extremely savvy about hiding the lyre. She found the safest locations, but she also

put the lyre in its more secure form. I believe that the instrument may not be in the form we expect.”

“Now you’ve lost me,” Verlaine said.

Sabine said, “As any angelologist who has spent a semester in Ethereal Musicology, the History of

the Angelic Choruses, or any of the other seminars that focus upon the construction and

implementation of the instruments would know, there is one essential component to the lyre: the

strings. While many other heavenly instruments were fashioned from the precious celestial metal

known as Valkine, the lyre’s unique resonance arises from its strings. They were made of an

unidentifiable substance that angelologists have long believed to be a mixture of silk and strands of

the angels’ own hair. Whatever the material, the sound is extraordinary because of the substance of