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Chapter 1

THE LARGEST AND MOST IMPRESSIVE TAPESTRY in the world was the topic of the lecture given by the curator of Château D’Angers at the 21st edition of the Journalism Festival, promoted annually by the municipal administration of the historical capital of Anjou, located in the Loire Valley, France, with its majestic castles and delicious rosé wines.

“My friends, I have the honor to be here, at the Palais des Arts, to talk to you about the magnificent tapestry inspired by the last book of the Gospel, or better yet, by the Apocalypse, according to Saint John. A stunning work of art that transcends the feudal values and the imagination and that was only displayed during the big festive events of the royalty to show the power and the luxury of the princes of Anjou. I’m also proud to tell you about Château D’Angers, this impregnable military fortress, built by a woman with a fighting spirit, ruler Blanche de Castille. Currently, the castle houses the Apocalypse Tapestry and the Museum of Medieval Weapons, which gathers the most complete collection of war crossbows in France, this blessed land of François Villon, Pierre de Ronsard, and Joachim du Bellay…”

From then on, it begins, on the night of October 13th, 2006, a long journey through time made by renowned historian and curator Ferdinand Rochemont de Sailly, assisted by priest Antoine Duvert, both speakers at the auditorium of the Palais des Arts. Initially, there was an explanation about how the province of Anjou was annexed to the kingdom of France in 1204, and how the ruler Blanche de Castille, who reigned from 1221 to 1244, mother of ten children, had a colossal fortress built, with seventeen towers, to fend off the threats and ambitions of the then king of England, Henry III. The curator sang praises to the beauty and wisdom of the ruler, celebrated in medieval songs and verses, as she had the same sovereign authority and determination of Catherine II of Russia, known as Catherine, the Great.

Then, the curator, wearing a blazer and a bowtie, revived the tumultuous life of Louis I of Valois, Duke of Anjou and Touraine, king of Naples (Napoli), Italy, and Count of Provence, France, the second son of King John II, the Good, and brother of Charles V, the Wise, both kings of France, of the Valois dynasty. He told that, during the time of English domination and the Hundred Year’s War, Louis I, even residing only for a brief period in Château D’Angers, commissioned, in 1373, the famous Apocalypse Tapestry to the Parisian workshop of Nicolas Bataille, who took nine years to complete it. He then projected several texts and photos to illustrate the saga of the origin, and the destruction and resurrection from the ashes of the most famous French medieval tapestry. He didn’t shy away from reproaching Louis II’s son, René, the last Duke of Anjou who lived in the castle, also known as René I of Anjou, Duke of Lorraine, France, and king of Naples, the Good King René (Le Bon Roi René), who donated the tapestry, in his will, to the ecclesiastical dignitaries of the Angers Cathedral, dedicated to Saint Maurice, patron of the city.

“It was a real sacrilege what they did to the haute lisse tapestry donated to the cathedral. As a consequence of this thoughtless act, it was cut into pieces and offered for sale.”

After the remark, in a heartfelt tone, Ferdinand de Sailly explained that, during the French Revolution, the sacred objects were destroyed. In the case of the tapestry, something extraordinary happened. Instead of disappearing, the dismembered pieces were miraculously reassembled at Saint-Serge Abbey.

The curator, noticing that Father Antoine couldn’t sit still, showing evident impatience, authorized him, with a nod, to read a document from 1806 that he had just taken out of his briefcase and described the terrible state of the tapestry, thrown in “a damp place, where it would break and tear apart at the mere touch of a hand.” But the priest wasn’t satisfied just reading, and also expressed his opinion about the chromatic vitality of the religious oeuvre.

“It’s very important to point out that the tapestry maintains to this day, on the reverse side, all the power of its original colors: hot reds, deep blues, golden oranges, and stunning greens. These colors blend into the splendid images of the twenty-four elders, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the trumpeting angels of the Annunciation, the worshipers of the Antichrist, the formidable beasts with seven heads, the chosen ones, the baldachins, and the gothic churches.”

Taking the floor once more, the curator pointed out that the results, especially of the most recent restorations, were not always successful, because modern chemical dyes would prove, over time, to be inappropriate for the restoration of masterpieces woven by master medieval craftsmen, who used natural dyes, extracted from plants.

When the conference was over, an avalanche of questions ensued, some of them misplaced, like the first one, from a young woman, that caused the audience to burst into laughter.

“I would like to know, Mr. Curator, if the ruler Blanche reviewed the troops like Queen Catherine used to do?”

This was the curator’s answer to the trick question:

“Mademoiselle, since the walls of the castle were thick, deaf and blind to their owners’ affections, there are no records of what the ruler Blanche, widow of Louis VIII, deceased in 1226, did with her spare time after reviewing her guard of honor. Oddly enough, your question makes me remember the famous episode, told by the minstrel of Reims, in which an extravagant gesture of this queen was able to silence the slanders of the Bishop of Beauvais and other vassals. The ruler went to the Parliament, where she had a stand. She went in, wearing a long coat, demanded silence and attention, climbed on a table in the center of the room, and yelled to the bishop: ‘Look closely and see if I’m pregnant’, while she dropped the coat to her feet. She spun around, naked, in all directions under the captivated stares of the audience, all to prove that the accusation that she was expecting another child was false. They all rushed to her with respect and admiration, covered her with her coat, and led her to the royal chambers. To this day, no one knows whether they acted this way out of devotion to her beauty or her courage.”

“Could you explain the reason for the sale?” asked a lady in the back of the auditorium.

“Father Antoine Duvert, who knows well this nefarious period of the tapestry, will answer you.”

“Well, after the donation in 1474, the tapestry was on display in the cathedral’s nave on Saint Maurice Day, Christmas, Easter, and Pentecost Sunday. As much as they considered it ‘absolutely magnificent’, the priests complained about the hard work of lifting it from the vault and the expenses to keep it intact. They also complained that it drowned out the songs and made the sermons inaudible. They decided to put it up for sale in 1783, right before the Revolution. No one wanted to buy it! But the worse was yet to come. Since its conservation had become a nuisance, it was cut up and began to have the most unexpected uses. It served as protection in greenhouses, curtains, saddle hides, and even doormats. It was an insult what they did to this great work of sacred art.”

“Could you tell us when the restoration works began?” asked a young lady, moved by the description.

“It was Canon Louis-François Joubert, named guardian of the cathedral, who had the brilliant idea of creating a workshop to restore the tapestry. The work began on February 1st, 1849, and continues to this day. They have recovered the six pieces which contain fourteen tableaus each, plus the scenes with the ‘great characters’. Altogether, it is 338 feet long and 14.8 feet high. It’s impossible not to be impressed with the four huge restored images in the middle of the canopy supported by columns, in which we are invited to contemplate and ponder about the biblical scenes.”

The panelists were subjected to several questions about the missing scenes.

“Well, gentlemen”, the curator explained, “I have a lot of hope that we will recover some of the missing tableaus. It’s a dream I nurture with religious faith. I count on the help of the students of the Lycée Saint-Serge; we’ve launched an international warning through the internet to all the art centers, historians, museum directors, antique dealers, and religious art researchers, as well as to the famous auction houses, trying to locate the oeuvre. This excellent work has been coordinated by our dear Father Antoine Duvert, from the Abbey and the Lycée Saint-Serge. He has helped me correct misconceptions and dismantle fraudulent tips that always come up when it comes to works of art.”

“It’s true, I’m a great fan of virtual communication”, Father Antoine confirmed, still fidgeting on the uncomfortable chair, after being praised by the curator. “I’ve been developing a tracking system with a group of young students who work with computer science at the lycée. The boys have been helping me a lot with the researches all around the world.”

“Have you had any results?” asked a bearded young man who looked like a college student, had a tattoo on his neck, and was seated on the second row.

“Unfortunately, nothing significant until now. There are rumors that one scene of the tapestry might be in Poland,” remarked the curator. “The information is being analyzed. Where there’s any evidence, I will use all the means at my disposal to recover at least one of the lost tableaus. I won’t give up.”

Having no further questions to answer, after running his hand through his frontal bald spot, the curator concluded the lecture:

“My friends, you’re all invited to visit Château D’Angers, one of the most important museums of France’s great historic heritage. Visit the Museum of Weapons and the tapestry that reveals the Apocalypse, which brings hopes of a world without poverty and violence when New Jerusalem descends from Heaven. Marvel at the beauty of the biggest tapestry in the world before the gallery’s renovation work to install the new lighting, scheduled for the beginning of the summer, starts.”

Very pleased with the ovation they had grown used to share, the two old friends left, smiling, the remodeled building at Michel Debré Square, a few yards from city hall. They saw all the lights on the white façade of the Palais des Arts on, just like the mayor had demanded it to be during the 21st Journalism Festival. He wanted the greatest socio-cultural event of that municipal election year to be intensely lit by the lights of knowledge to a French audience always eager to learn the greatness of their history.

“What most impresses me in this festival is how these people want to breathe culture”, praised Father Antoine, smiling. “This is great.”

“Soon they’ll be rewarded. The gallery is getting beautiful! I’ve decided to put the tableaus closer together and get rid of the huge empty spaces between them. There won’t be the negative impact caused by the missing scenes anymore. I left only one empty space, so the dream can go on.”

“Where did you leave it?” Father Antoine asked, curious.

“You’ll see, my friend, when we make the final inspection for the reopening of the gallery together”, teased curator Ferdinand, smiling and offering his hand to say goodbye.

“I’ll wait. I’ll find out everything you’ve been hiding from me”, said the priest, as if, behind the curator’s wry smile, he suspected something evil the mysterious gap on the wall wanted to hide.

Suddenly, Father Antoine Duvert fell silent, and his face got serious, distressed, like someone about to pray. He recognized the castle curator’s ambition to recover at least one of the seven lost tableaus of the Divine Revelation sequence as legitimate and healthy; in particular, the recovery, at any cost, of the unknown scene of the Caged devil for a thousand years. Actually, he feared that this missing tableau meant that the seven-headed dragon was free and responsible for the current mayhem of the world. Wherever it was, it would be spreading discord, AIDS, encouraging abortion and human cloning, pedophilia, inciting violence, greed, and corruption. It all suggested that men had lost the battle between good and evil. This was the terrifying vision his mind had, hovering under the huge round towers of Château D’Angers. More than ever, he believed it was crucial, from the religious or cultural point of view, to find this missing tableau of the Apocalypse Tapestry, whose images illustrated the visions St. John received from Jesus Christ through an angel.

The search for the tableau of the beast should be intensified anywhere in the world. Therefore, get down to business, Mr. Curator.