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  • Format: ePub

"A great multitude of people filled the church, crowded together in the old black pews, standing closely thronged in the nave and aisles, pressing shoulder to shoulder even in the two chapels on the right and left of the apse, a vast gathering of pale men and women whose eyes were sad and in whose faces was written the history of their nation. The mighty shafts and pilasters of the Gothic edifice rose like the stems of giant trees in a primeval forest from a dusky undergrowth, spreading out and uniting their stony branches far above in the upper gloom. From the clerestory windows of the nave…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
"A great multitude of people filled the church, crowded together in the old black pews, standing closely thronged in the nave and aisles, pressing shoulder to shoulder even in the two chapels on the right and left of the apse, a vast gathering of pale men and women whose eyes were sad and in whose faces was written the history of their nation. The mighty shafts and pilasters of the Gothic edifice rose like the stems of giant trees in a primeval forest from a dusky undergrowth, spreading out and uniting their stony branches far above in the upper gloom. From the clerestory windows of the nave an uncertain light descended halfway to the depths and seemed to float upon the darkness below as oil upon the water of a well. Over the western entrance the huge fantastic organ bristled with blackened pipes and dusty gilded ornaments of colossal size, like some enormous kingly crown long forgotten in the lumber room of the universe, tarnished and overlaid with the dust of ages. Eastwards, before the rail which separated the high altar from the people, wax torches, so thick that a man might not span one of them with both his hands, were set up at irregular intervals, some taller, some shorter, burning with steady, golden flames, each one surrounded with heavy funeral wreaths, and each having a tablet below it, whereon were set forth in the Bohemian idiom, the names, titles, and qualities of him or her in whose memory it was lighted. Innumerable lamps and tapers before the side altars and under the strange canopied shrines at the bases of the pillars, struggled ineffectually with the gloom, shedding but a few sickly yellow rays upon the pallid faces of the persons nearest to their light..."

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Autorenporträt
Francis Marion Crawford was an American writer best known for his numerous books, particularly those set in Italy, as well as his famous odd and magical stories. Crawford was born in Bagni di Lucca, Grand Duchy of Tuscany, on August 2, 1854. He was the only son of Thomas Crawford, an American sculptor, and Louisa Cutler Ward. His sister was writer Mary Crawford Fraser (also known as Mrs. Hugh Fraser), and he was the nephew of American poet Julia Ward Howe. Following his father's death in 1857, his mother remarried Luther Terry, with whom she bore Crawford's half-sister, Margaret Ward Terry, who eventually married Winthrop Astor Chanler. He attended St Paul's School in Concord, New Hampshire, followed by Cambridge University, the University of Heidelberg, and the University of Rome. In 1879, he traveled to India, where he studied Sanskrit and worked as an editor for the Allahabad Indian Herald. After returning to America in February 1881, he spent a year studying Sanskrit at Harvard University and two years contributing to numerous publications, most notably The Critic. Early in 1882, he formed a long-time acquaintance with Isabella Stewart Gardner.