COMPLETE STORY. The Altar of Pardon.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIII, Issue XXII, 25 November 1899, Page 984

COMPLETE STORY. The Altar of Pardon.

BY

ANGEL R. DE ANELLANO.

What visitor to the City of Mexico will have forgotten the beautiful "Altar of I’anlon” in the Cathedral, or the picture whieh constitutes its chief ornament? This fatuous canvas is the subject of the folio-wing- tradition: Among those who couqiosed the suite of the noble Don Gaston de i’eralto, Marquis de Falces and Viceroy of New Spain, was a painter of repute named I’eirens. an Italian by extraction. although retired in Spanish schools. This youth, employed on various works of decoration in the vieeroyal palace, enjoyed, to a flattering degree, the confidene; 1 and favour of his distinguished patron. Notwithstanding a courteous and unassuming demeanour towards those aibout him, the esteem with which he was regarded by his master, the Viceroy, sufficed to make him an es|>ecial mark for the envy and ill-will of the less favoured courtiers. One noble, Don Fernandez de Bobadillo by name, an habitue of the court ami a person of a nature mean and ungenerous, in |»irticular harboured a grudge against the youthful painter. The true quality of his feelings he, however, carefully concealed tinder a simulation, of the most cordial regard. In the society of this Caballero, I’eirens, whose bosom. seldom gave suspicion a refuge, showed himself in that free ami ingenious guise so characteristic of the artist mind. During their frequent meetings at the balls and fetes which inaugurated the governorship of the viceroy, the painter. in abandoned mood, off let fall some thoughtless comment or indiscreet sally, such as only truly befit the close confidence of devoted friends. These unconsidered remarks the don took occasion to inscribe on the readv tablets of his memory; and ’whenever they could be retailed or disfigured into a significance calculated to endanger I’eirens' position at court, the opportunity was never slighted. It so happened that the Archiepiscopal Chapter, desirous of stimulating the arts in these fresh dominions of the Spanish sceptre, and for the especial purpose of securing a notable painting with whieh to embellish a new altar in the Cathedral, offered a prize of twenty thousand pesos for the best painting of the Virgin Mary. The announcement of the competition had scarcely been made publie, when it fell to the idle ears of Don Fernandez de Bobadillo, who imbibed much satisfaction from his reputation as court bulletin and general scandal monger. He at once eagerly sought out I’eirens, whom, as usual, he found engaged at his craft, hoping thereby to be the first to acquaint him with a matter of such presumable moment to an ambitious artist, while planning to indulge his ill-nature by chafing the painter's curiosity ere lie discovered the role of an interes'ed friend and benefactor. But to his chagrin, he foundl’eirens an unsatisfactory subject for the exercise of this petty purpose; and when, finally, he communicated the news of the magnificent offer of the chapter, it was received with expressions of cool unconcern by the Italian, who continued to ply his brush, as though the prospect of earning so handsome a sum was a chance that presented itself with extreme frequency. To the don's vexed comment on his indifference, I’eirens answered, carelessly, that he had no intention of entering- the list of competitors. "And pray, why so, arndg-o mio?" questioned Don Fernandez, nipping his curled miistaehio. to conceal an irritation at the other's nonchalance. "Forsooth, because I am no lover of these themes of Mother Church,” re-

turned the youth. “Not for the mines of FI Dorado would I forswear faith Io my beloved deities of old Greece. Let those who have a mind achieve fame and fortune by depicting sor-rowful-looking saints and anchorites, or if they like, pictures innumerable of our blessed \ irgin, but for me, 1 rare naught for such sober subjects. I paint only that which my young blood dictates. such, if you choose, as yonder favourite fresco of Diana and her nymphs, who press after the panting hind that a moment more litas disappeared within

the greenwood, or this, that tells the amorous deeds of Dame Venus, who strove so mightily to win the chaste and rose-cheeked Adonis to her will. Nay, I verily lielieve my brush would deny me its cunning, did 1 depart from these ancient fancies of Arcady. 1 seek to foot no other paths, and as for the recompense thou speakest of, the good Virey is beneficent enough, and will care for my paltry necessities.”

Don Fernandez, finding in these words a long coveted opportunity for satisfying his ill-regard toward I’eirens, pleaded some fictitious engagement and hastily took his leave.

A few hours later, he was engaging the ear of the Archbishop with a greatly aggravated account of the painiter's heresies and his arrogant refusal to take advantage of the generous offers made by the reverend Chapter of the Cathedral. The venerable Franz Alonzo de Montufar, Archbishop of Mexico, was deeply shocked atl these recitiails of the don; and straightway ordered Peirens to be summoned. When the young Italian had appeared in his ' presence he gravely questioned him concerning his speech els to the Cavalier. I’eirens, wounded to the quick at the treacherous conduct of his supposed friend, and fired with the distinguished pride of his countrymen, vouchsafed no defence, refusing to petition me indulgence which the good man would have granted gladly, had he but shown the proper tokens of repent ran -e. I'ne Archbishop, at length, provoked to wrath at such a bold and determined show of sacrilege, commanded the young painter to be handed over to the inquisition, whose tribunal had recently been established in New Spain. to be dealt with by it in such fashion as befitted one so thoroughly imbued with a spirit inimical to the true faith.

Months passed by. ami Pierens proudly preferred 'imprisonment, to retracting- his; words or painting a picture of the Virgin.

But he finally painted such a picture! Yes; andi it happened, it is said, in this wise. Weary and sad at heart was Pierens one day. towards evenfall. The lively swallows, outside his window-grate swept to and fro through the golden air, in the enjoyment of their freedom. A red ray from the setting sun shot quiveringly through the lofty skylight of the cell, where lay the captive, idly outstretched on his mean pallet. As the twilight deepened- into night, the swallows sought their nests in the cornices- of the old bell-tower, which pealed forth its solemn vesper call. The day fell behind the great clouds banked above the western horizon, and ihe moon, preceding the small white stars, floated- up into the sky. slipping through the changeable, gauze-like mists that kept continually weaving fantastic toils along its course. Suddenly the sultry gloom of the dungeon was dispelled by a gush of light, whieh seemed to come from a floating moon-like substance in his cell. An emotion unexplica.bly sweet mastered I’eirens’ soul, and lo! the holy Virgin presented herself to him, clad in the immaculate wonder of her celestial a,pparel, Iso dazzling that the splendour of the sun is scarcely capable of yielding a. similitude thereto, and in an ineffably sweet voice, thrillinglv tender in its sadness, which music itself had not the ability to imitate, spake to him thus: “My son. why dost thou not love me?" “Mother of God! My Lady and Queen! Already 1 do love thee!” And as Peirens . breathed these word's, overcome by so gracious a visitation, he knelt before her, lifting the hem of the Virgin’s robe to his lips. At its contact he trembled, an unwonted serenity fell upon him, and he became fixed in an ecstatic contemplation of the apparition, the length of whieh be was unable to guess. On awakening, he perceived he was alone, yet there remained upon the air of his <-<-11 a mysterious and delicious perfume that, was neither of spikenard nor like the swooning sweetness oi

white lilies, but unspeakably sweeier and more intoxicating han the breath of any earthly bloom, an aroma whieh freighted his soul with the most heavenly ideas.

Was it merely a dream wrought out of drowsy eyelids, suddenly smitten by a silvery flood of mvonlight melting through the crevice of a darkening cloud? No such irreverent doubt possessed I’eirens' mind.

With trembling fingers he sought for his brush and colours for the vision had stamped upon his mind a beautiful conception whieh he longed to conjure up in enduring form. But how realise the desire?— for canvas on which to paint there was none. He resolved, in. desperation, to use the panel of his prison door. When he had comp'cied his task, he commanded the Archbishop to be called. who, on beholding the picture, a work so wondrously wrought, the countenance of the Virgin illuminated by a smile so benign and heavenly in its mystery, marvelled greatly and could do no less than bend his aged knees, while he breathed forth a fervent prayer. When he arose, he blessed Peirens and commanded that he be immediately set at liberty, bestowing on him, according to accounts of the day, the munificent sum of one him dred and fifty thousand pesos. The door which contained the painting was detached from its hinges and appropriated by ‘he Cathedral, the venerable assemblage pronouncing the picture to be the iinest in New Spain. A massive frame of solid silver was ordered to enclose it, and the whole was inserted in the Altar of aJrdon.

And there, worshipped by pious generations of long ago, the picture still remains and still evokes the admiration of all who visit the “Altar of Pardon.”