Blood of the Horse

The galleries, courtyards and abodes of the Vatican Palace are ancient, convolved, mysterious. So darkly rooted is the Papal tradition of secrecy that only last week was the United Press able to report an accident which occurred in hushed Vatican precincts some seven months ago, and is thought to have influenced the Pontiff's recent decision to sell the last of his horses.

One afternoon last autumn, His Holiness was preparing to enjoy a carriage ride around the spacious Vatican gardens. An open barouche and a pair of glossy spanking Irish steeds waited at the portico of St. Damasus Courtyard. Suddenly the mettlesome beasts became frightened. They shied, snorted, whinnied, plunged. Finally they "ran away" in a mad dash around the high-walled garden.

Horrified servants watched as the Papal barouche, careening, bouncing, made the circuit once and then crashed splintering into a heavy stone portico supporting the stairs down which His Holiness was expected momentarily to descend. Blood spattered and gushed to form a thick, sluggish pool upon the flagstones. One of the Irish horses had been gashed and killed in the clattering impact. The barouche was thoroughly wrecked.