Forgotten secrets of the church of Rennes-le-Château Part 2: Rotten blue apples and Visigothic pillars

 

Eating blue apples

January 17 and Rennes-le-Château bring one thing to mind: the phenomenon of the so-called “blue apples”, in which the sunlight shining through the stained glass windows projects the coloured light onto the opposite wall inside the village church. Indeed, it is not much of a phenomenon, but then so many large public events have mundane or innocent beginnings.
The notion of “blue apples” follows the decodation of some contrived document, which tried to add another – purposefully fabricated – dimension to the original mystery of Rennes-le-Château. As mentioned in the previous part: everything that we see in the church today is either from the time of Saunière or since – not before. Yet, we are left to believe that the “blue apples” was a clue left behind by someone before Saunière, and that somehow there is a correspondence with the light phenomenon inside the church, the result of stained glass windows installed by Saunière.
Indeed, though it is a mundane phenomenon, the event itself becomes somewhat risky, as it of course depends on whether or not the sun shines at the right time – something which should not be taken for granted in the middle of winter. But when the sun does shine – as it did in 2007 – it does become apparent that the identification of the phenomenon as “blue apples” is rather “imaginative”. Indeed, the shape is created by circular stained glasses in the windows… but beyond a somewhat circular – oval indeed – shape, there is nothing to suggest this should be an apple… and as blue apples are rather rare… Furthermore – what several reporters fail to mention – is that apart from blue shapes, there are also the other colours projected onto the wall, from the other colours of the stained glass. So, at best, it is yellow, orange, red and blue apples. Or should the red perhaps be interpreted as salami, rather than apples? And the yellow as circular lemons, and the orange as… oranges?
Still, let us note that at the origin of this phenomenon is the decodation of a document, which is one of those documents allegedly uncovered by Saunière either from the baluster or a Visigothic pillar. In short, the myth of the “small and large parchment”, claimed to be at the centre of the mystery is in truth not older than half a century, and is a dimension “added” to the mystery of Saunière. But it is a fake, and as a fake, it leads us to conclude that the phenomenon of the “blue apples” is in itself without value. Still, it does bring the research community together in Rennes-le-Château on the day when Saunière had a stroke that would prove to be fatal; it is probably as good a day as any.

Still, this phenomenon of the blue apples is not unique to January 17. The phenomenon is visible several days before and after and whereas it could be expected by the curious that on January 17, the lights fall on a specific spot in the church (the X that marks the spot of the treasure??), that is actually not the case: the lights do not “illuminate” anything in specific – indeed, it is more likely that illuminate more interesting features of the church on other days than on that January 17.
The phenomenon is also not unique to Rennes-le-Château. The sun is shining – at least on some occasions – everywhere in the world and everywhere where there are stained glass windows, at some point, the sunlight will project these colours inside the church. Pick any church… and we have picked a church close to our heart: the basilica of Notre-Dame de Marceille. Here, in fact, again on most days, the sun’s coloured light does actually strike a point of interest: a large painting of St Anthony. The manner in which the sun hits the painting is very striking… though we should not at all conclude there is any mystery attached to this phenomenon.

An old altar

The year is 1887 and the works to stop the rain from coming into the church of Rennes-le-Château have been completed. It is at that moment in time that Saunière focuses his attention on the main altar and apparently decides that its appearance is unworthy for a church – specifically for the church he is intending to leave as his legacy to the village. His main goal is therefore to demolish it and replace it with a new altar, conform to his own desires. But who can state for certain whether this task was carried out by Saunière the megalomaniac, who wanted to turn his dilapidated church into something of a freak show, or whether it was a carefully thought-out step in a series of works that was meant to methodically subject every part of his church to careful examination… in the hope of recovering something… or allowing to access otherwise hidden “dimensions” of the building. Hence, perhaps he knows that by demolishing the main altar, he will be able to make an important “breakthrough”. Still, we note that in 1887, though he has some funds, in general, they are insufficient for Saunière to work autonomously and to carry out the “larger plan” alone and according to his own and sole agenda. The funding came from elsewhere and he must have either played the game very cleverly in getting money from people without knowing for what specific purpose they were giving it to him, or otherwise he must have confided in certain people, so that they knew what they got themselves involved with, equally aware that they could most likely expect to see a good return on their investment.
As to the main altar, it is Madame Cavailhé de Cousan who will sponsor the works, which begin on July 27, 1887. At some work during the demolition, the workmen will have removed the stone table. It is then apparently that one of the pillars reveals an opening… a cavity, filled with ferns… it is said. And it is here that a dubious, yet crucial episode in the life of Saunière begins.

Of ferns and mystery

No doubt, the workmen were surprised to make this discovery. They will no doubt have been unable to resist the temptation to get their hands inside the ferns, to see whether something is hidden amongst or underneath them. Though it is unknown what happened next, several authors have come up with a scenario of their own. One of the more popular one proposes that Saunière searched through the ferns himself and found rolls of parchment, written in Latin “but an ancient form of Latin”, this according to Elie Bot, the mason who helped Saunière in his work. For others, it involves three rolls, yet for others, it were but two.
Let us provide a quick overview of what other authors have made of it: Gérard de Sède wrote that “the documents were discovered by Saunière himself in the capsa of the Visigothic pillar, enclosed in a wooden roll.” For Pierre Jarnac, there were “two or three wooden rolls: they contained handwritten documents, parchments.” Or: “parchments which were acts: a genealogical act of 1243 (with a seal from Blanche de Castille). A genealogical act of 1608 (F.P. d’Hautpoul), a genealogical act of 24/4/1695, and a recto-verso of the canon JP de Nègre de Fondargentdaté.” Or: “three wooden tubes containing four parchments: a Gospel of St John where Christ is welcomed in Bethany by Lazarus, another document entitled “Martha and Mary of Magdala”, a condensed version of Luke 6:1-5, Matthew 12:1-8 and Mark 2:23-28 and finally a genealogical tree with the unknown descendents of Dagobert II”. But it gets even better when we read the book by Jean-Jacques Bedu, “Rennes-le-Château autopsie d’un mythe” (Loubatières, 1990), where on page 26, he notes that the “pillar is solid and could thus not contain any parchments.” It is sad to see that this author who claims to have “definitively lifted the veil on the enigma of the treasure of Rennes-le-Château” in the early 1990s, did not do better if not perform some personal research on this topic, like visiting the pillar itself, before making such a bold and totally erroneous claim.

An open or closed hiding place?

An inspection of the pillar in the museum at Rennes-le-Château shows one detail that is seldom or never highlighted. The pillar is facing “right side up”, unlike the copy that sits in the garden next to the path that leads to the church, which is upside down. By placing it “correctly”, unlike Saunière who worked it into his garden feature the wrong way around, anyone can clearly see that there is indeed a cavity on the top. A closer inspection will also reveal that the lining of this opening clearly was enabled so that a cover could be placed on top of this hollow opening. But no-one seems to have mentioned this detail. It is clear that the incorporation of such a cover was there to guarantee that the top of the pillar was firmly integrated within the altar. It would also have secured the contents inside the pillar. But the presence of this cover would and should have been secured with the aid of mortar, so that it remained firmly in place. This means that when the pillar was pried out of its position, this cover would still have been in place and the workforce would normally have had to pry it open with one or the other tool. But the account of the discovery does not speak of the presence of this cover, or of the requirement to pry the hiding place open. If the cover had been in place, would the workmen have allowed themselves to remove it, without informing Saunière of their find?
If no-one mentioned the cover, then it would suggest that none was in place. And if it was not any longer there, then it would imply that someone had removed it in the past. The question then is who removed it, and when… and for what reason. It would be logical to assume that this could have happened when the church stopped being the castle’s chapel of St Mary, and became the church of the village, changing its dedication to Mary Magdalene. But as this is a very ancient pillar, it could have happened earlier too… For let us not that “ancient” might be a better label than “Visigothic”, as others have also identified it as “Carolingian”.

A brief technical description

The pillar is almost square, made from one solid piece. If the technical information of those who have surveyed the object is correct, the pillar is 75 centimetres high, with the front side 40 cm wide, and the depth 39 cm. Still, this “official” statement is somewhat bizarre, for it is clear that the bottom base is clearly somewhat smaller than the top. The official measurement also does not speak of the hollow, even though it is clearly visible to anyone visiting the museum. As to its age, the “official verdict” is rather nebulous, contenting itself by listing it as “High Medieval”.
One site claims that the original height of the artefact was 0.95 metres, which is a rather curious piece of information, but interesting nevertheless. For it of course implies that there was a second part to this pillar, about 20 centimetres high, of which all knowledge and trace has been lost. Others even speak of 1.15 metres as the original height. None of these authors have listed a clear source to make such claims and some of the claims they make are rather incredulous. For one, anything that sat on top of the pillar would have had to become smaller. To make such observations, as to its height, the authors must have seen the original piece, yet where is it and why do not make claims to its discovery, which would be a major scoop? As such, we assume that these must be errors, and not evidence that these authors have access to privileged information.
As to the dimensions of the small hollow, we note that it is about 8 centimetres in depth, with square sides of 12 centimetres each. The cover would have been about 2 centimetres thick and cover a square of 17 centimetres on each side.
The illustrations, as photographs clearly show, are definitely ancient in design and could indeed date back to Visigothic times, even though the most authoritative verdict (by Durliat in 1973) listed it as Carolingian. In our opinion, the best description is made by D. Baudreu. He explains that this type of decoration received its inspiration from the North of Italy, from where it went to Switzerland and Provence, until it finally reached the Languedoc. He is equally of the opinion that it is Carolingian in design. He offered that it would date to the 8th or 9th century. “The cross would be a reproduction of a processional cross or a cross on an altar.”
We should note that this type of decoration is definitely not unique to Rennes-le-Château, but can be found in several places, such as in the museum of Narbonne, Boutenac, Oupia, St Polycarpe and our own beloved Perillos.

The impossible receptacle

What could have been the purpose of this small cavity inside the pillar? Before thinking this must be the hiding place of the Holy Grail, let us note that this was most likely the location where a relic was stored. Indeed, it was customary that every church had a relic linked with it, which was normally stored in or near the altar. As this hollow was in a pillar that was part of the altar, we thus would have found the location where the relic was hidden – or rather: placed. In the absence of a “real relic” belonging or believed to belong to some saint, it often involved some text or gift to do with the inauguration or dedication of the church. Of course, the cavity could contain both. Let us note that if this hollow was used to receive a relic, the hollow is then given the name of “tomb”. Of course, do we need to note what Saunière wrote on his model, when he wrote about the “Tomb of Joseph of Arimathea” and the “Tomb of Jesus”? It is also known as “capsa”, which is the name de Sède used in his books.
Let us also note that if this indeed contained a relic, one which may have been found by the workmen, then it would have been “bon ton” for Saunière to have reinserted it into a “capsa” of the new altar. And, indeed, Saunière might if not should be expected to have added perhaps a further “gift” to his “capsa”, such as identifying in what year he would have changed the old altar for the new.

Let us note that according to popular accounts, it was here that the “large and smaller parchments” were hidden. But let us look at the size of the hollow and its available space. Let us note that it would be largely impossible to place these parchments into a wooden container and then place the containers – two or three, or even one – inside this hollow. Let us note that anyone can reproduce the dimensions of the pillar and/or the capsa (in cardboard or any other material) and he can thus try to push in two, three or four wooden tubes and place dried ferns on top. It is simply impossible.
Let us note that very much like Bedu did too quickly away with the story of the capsa, others have too easily accepted the capsa, without looking into its dimension. For all of those who invented or built upon information about what was allegedly hidden here: why not test the logic of the theory and see whether it would work? Whereas in the case of many of the authors, this could be seen as bad research, what to make of the initial allegations? Those uttered by the likes of Pierre Plantard and co. and/or de Sède? Were they aware that some of what they were writing was physically impossible? If so, were they waiting for someone to shout that it was impossible? Or were they, like Bedu, too hasty in making claims?

Saunière’s desires

After the demolition of the altar, the pillar was converted from a support for the main altar to a pillar, sitting in the garden, outside of the church, supporting a statue of the Virgin Mary. It is clear that this was a specific desire on the part of Saunière. Furthermore, we note that the altar most likely would have had two supports, one on each side, yet it seems that only this one was saved by Saunière. As such, it is the second artefact from the old church that he decided to retain. And it is the second artefact that contains an obscured hiding place, the contents of which were either already empty when Saunière got his hands on it, or were still present – and it is the latter possibility that the eyewitnesses have reported as being the case both for the baluster and the pillar. But whereas Saunière seems to covet the baluster, the Visigothic pillar is placed outside, exposed to the elements and, worse, placed upside down. Why? Let us note that we have elsewhere, discussing the layout of the garden as a mirror image of the “real church”, noted Saunière seemed to have a preoccupation for mirrors and inversions… a preoccupation which is also apparent when it comes to the model. But to leave the last word to George Kiess, who wrote that “but how is it possible, such a thing? To place the Holy Cross upside down… how could a Catholic do such a thing? And even worse, a priest? A professional believer.” George then adds that what is even more remarkable is that several priests visited the site, including Saunière’s superior, Mgr. Billard, who was there at the rededication of the church, when the “mistake” would have been noted. Why did he not remark upon it? Ask that it would be put right? Indeed, we would like to ask why no-one in the past century hasn’t corrected the error! Let us also note that when the original pillar was removed from its location and placed inside the museum, the copy itself was placed upside down, thus conforming to the manner in which Saunière had placed it. Though this is “historically accurate”, it is also “heretical” if not potentially a sign of devil worship to leave the cross upside-down. No-one would have blamed the local priests after Saunière’s time if they had turned the pillar the right way up, as it sits inside the museum.
To conclude with George Kiess: “Why did this man do this? […] If the priest wanted to draw attention to something, for example to a specific detail, but not necessarily draw the attention of everyone to it, what would have been his motivation? Did he have something special to say about the symbolism of the cross?”

An accomplice?

One question remains: what happened to these documents, these parchments? For whereas it is clear that the documents that everyone believes Saunière found are more than likely fakes, it is equally clear that Saunière did discover something. And the man who claimed this was Elie Bot, of the village of Luc-sur-Aude. It is indeed him, a contemporary of Saunière, that claimed that a discovery was made inside the pillar and that the discovery involved documents. He wrote: “they remained more or less unreadable but it was clear that they would not be of any value.” It is a statement that to us begs for further clarification. First of all, he mentioned that these were Latin documents, “but in archaic Latin” and then adds that they are more or less impossible to read, but that they are nevertheless not of any value? Is he suggesting that though they were almost unreadable, he or someone nevertheless managed to do so? It seems not, for he is commenting that despite them being unreadable by him, they would not have had any value anyway. Which begs the question how he would have know that they were of no value, as he did not know what they spoke of. Indeed, it would seem “logical” to assume that these were papers to do with the dedication of the church, but as the documents were unreadable, how could he know?
Whenever there are such blatant contradictions, it is almost always an indication that something is not right and we should perhaps pose the question whether there was a certain amount of collusion between Bot and Saunière. If so, what type of link was there between both men? Let us however note that in the available records, at no time is there any mention of a small relic – the most logical of finds to make inside that cavity.

One hiding place, three possibilities

If we are to accept that the parchments are genuine, then there are but a limited amount of possibilities.

1. The stash of documents was located in the Visigothic pillar. Yet we note that the capsa would not be able to contain too many documents, this because of its small volume. It is of course possible that there was a second cavity elsewhere in the same pillar (e.g. at the bottom) or that the other pillar, not preserved, was the location where these documents were hidden. Still, this is speculation on our parts and the available evidence suggests that though something was hidden inside the pillar, what was hidden, are not the parchments and wooden rolls that several authors claim that was discovered inside.
Let us note that it seems indeed to be this pillar, for Saunière, like the baluster, decided to preserve it. He placed it in the garden, inversed it, and added a sentence to it: “PENITENCE – PENITENSE” – with the latter S eventually being replaced by a C.

2. The documents were not located inside the Visigothic pillar. The small capsa in the pillar was merely assumed to be their hiding place, because it seemed “logical” to some.

3. The documents are fake and what was actually inside the pillar, was something else… something we do not know, but which may be at the true heart of the mystery. Perhaps they were not parchments at all? Or perhaps they were parchments that Saunière was able to read? And perhaps Elie Bot as well?

continued >>

André Douzet