On a grassy knoll somewhere in London, amidst a row of limestone graves and flickering candles, a crowd had gathered. They had come not to pay their respects to the dead, but to turn their ears and eyes to the dozen maidens in gauzy robes whose intricately harmonized songs of life, love, death, disease and despair filled the air. As the mead flowed, the audience grew entranced. The mood was 1360, but the year was 1997.

It was the Mediaeval Baebes' first show, before former Miranda Sex Garden singer Katharine Blake had officially united the twelve women into a cohesive group that would promptly ink a deal with Virgin Records. It was before their debut album, Salva Nos, had entered the U.K. classical charts at No. 2, and before they had to defend themselves against the classical purists, who disdained the Baebes' sexually-infused interpretations of the secular and religious plainsong. But a year later, with fans ranging in age from fifteen to eighty, and record sales approaching gold status, the saucy renaissance Spice Girls have turned the other tongue-in-cheek.

"With a name like the Mediaeval Baebes, you've got to have a sense of humor," says baritone/systems analyst Ruth Galloway during the lasses' first trip to the States. "The record company was worried that we wouldn't be taken seriously, with our name and our image, but the fact is, we attract people who are into all different kinds of music." True enough. With their Goth credentials in tow, the women shirked the Post-Industrial for the Dark Age, and chose twelve-part, a capella harmonies over three-chord alterna-pop shreikers. And though their daily attire and demeanor are all late-Twentieth Century, their vocal style and classic madrigals are decidedly Moyen Age.

"It's a challenge, taking this music and placing it in a context where you'd never expect to hear it," says Nichole Sleet, soprano and mosaicist by trade, who still finds it strange to perform sets at rock clubs. "But the Medieval period is a very romantic period," adds Marie Findlay, sitcom writer and soprano. "It was quite earthy and female-centered. And as we approach the Millenium, and we're all thinking about the future, we obviously look back to the past. I think that's what we're doing. That's what the world is doing."

Translating the apocalyptic views which characterized both the Dark Ages and the eve of the Millenium to modern ears is no easy feat -- especially when sung in Middle English, ancient French, Scandinavian and Latin. Building on the success of the Gregorian Monks, Enigma and the Anonymous 4, the Baebes have appropriated a universal language, one that merges glamour and theater with ancient ideas still relevant today. "We are very much more performers than we are scholars," admits Galloway. "But we tap into the mystery and romance of that era. It's really all about the atmosphere."

Certainly songs like "Salve Virgo Virginum" and "The Coventry Carol" were meant to be sung in the cloistered atmosphere of a nunnery or cathedral, but they didn't go over so badly at Glastonbury. "How often does a classical outfit get to play at a rock festival?" Sleet asks rhetorically. But slotted between Pulp, Sonic Youth and Bob Dylan, the Mediaeval Baebes fit in as well as they did that virgin time in the graveyard. "We were playing the last day, so by the time we got onstage on Sunday, we were drenched," remembers Findlay of the notoriously mud-soaked event. "We were trying to keep our dresses white, but mine fell in the mud, and as I was pulling it out, I started crying. I actually had to go onstage with a wet, white gown."

And though purists may gasp at that thought, it didn't hurt the Baebes image in the least.

HEIDI SHERMAN