Read The Phoenix Land for Free Online Page A

reserve light-circuit, were carrying away their long ladders. There was very little time left, and anything that still needed doing had to be done quickly.
    Very soon the ushers started to arrive. These were young men who would be responsible for showing the guests to their appointed places and ensuring that no unseemly scramble marred the dignity of the occasion. I selected a few of them to act as my personal runners who would keep me in immediate touch with the chief electrician who would be hidden from sight in the Bela III chapel, and some others to be posted outside in the square where they would stand like heralds to indicate which way the guests should go. Others I kept in reserve in case of unforeseen disaster.
    After the ushers came the photographers; and with them was the painter Felix Schwormstädt, the eminent artist employed by the German magazine Illustrierte who was to be the only representative of the world press officially permitted to record the scene for posterity. The photographers were huddled together in the pulpit – which had been covered so that they could not be seen – and poor Schwormstädt had to squeeze himself somehow in behind the velvet curtain in which it had been shrouded. There was very little room for them all but, as the coronation was itself an official session of parliament as well as being a religious and state ceremony, neither he nor the photographers and theirequipment would have been permitted in the aisles. Despite these difficulties Schwormstädt managed to do a magnificent job, and the painting that was reproduced in the next issue of Illustrierte was the only one that I ever saw that did justice to that splendid but fleeting pageant that had gladdened our hearts that winter’s day so long ago.
    Now the Keepers of the Regalia arrived in the church.
    We had to place the crown and the other symbols of power and majesty in the Loretto chapel. There they had rested, each on its separate stand, on cushions which had been fitted with special fastenings to ensure that the sacred emblems could be carried in the horseback procession without risk of mishap.
    This was the last time that anyone was to see the crown of St Stephen used for its essential purpose. It was a fabulous object not only for its historical associations and for the many legends that had become attached to it but also for its own sake, for it was a work of art unique in the world. Despite, or maybe because of, the fact that it is made up of two diadems, it has a wondrous and unexpected beauty. What was so surprising was the freshness of its enamels, as glowing and translucent as when they were first seen fresh from the hands of those unknown artists, goldsmiths, jewellers, and enamellists a thousand years before. Unbelievable, too, was the warmth and glow of its pearls – hundreds of them set in lines on every possible edge, still alive and radiant despite being kept for centuries in airless sealed cases. I remembered last seeing this fabulous object twenty years before on the occasion when Hungary celebrated the first thousand years of her history, and the crown had been displayed for three days in this very church. Then I had been one of the gentlemen appointed to stand guard around the sacred emblem of our monarchy and every detail of its shape and decoration were etched in my memory. Twenty years had gone by since the days of the millennium and now, with perhaps a more mature appreciation, I admired the great crown even more than I had before.
    There was, however, another extraordinary object, also unique of its kind, among the ‘clenodiums’ – the sacred emblems of the state – this was the sceptre. When it first came into possession of the kings of Hungary is not known, although traditionalso attributes it to the time of St Stephen. The ball is of crystal, as big as a man’s fist, and rampant lions are carved all over it. It is Arab work from the eighth or ninth century, and the shaft and setting are of