Embres and Castelmaure Part 2: Cholet, from a report to a song

 

Evidence of links between Rennes-le-Château and Embres-Castelmaure

Before continuing, it is perhaps prudent to recap some of the remarks made so far. First of all, Embres-Castelmaure is near Durban, which has a known exposure to some of the primadonna priests of the mystery. We should also underline the physical proximity of specifically Castelmaure to Perillos. For example, any map will tell you that the distance “as the crow flies” from Embres to Perillos is equidistant to that of Perillos to Opoul. Indeed, Embres is that close, though the modern roads would make it appear as if it is on another planet.
We know that Durban and Perillos were united after the annexation of the Roussillon to France, and because Embres and Castelmaure is largely in between both, it is clear that this “melting” of Durban with Perillos had a profound effect on Embres-Castelmaure.
Furthermore, we note that back then, religion was even more central to the daily life of the village, and especially so at the time of processions, which saw entire villages rally to and with neighbouring villages and towns. And we know that there were certain “inter village” processions in this sector. In short, it is beyond doubt that Gélis and Boudet, vicars of Durban, must have frequented their colleagues in Embres-Castelmaure.
Speaking of priests that ran around and through this region, one cannot forget Father Bigou, who fled Rennes-le-Château and made his way to Spain via the lands of Durban and Perillos, and therefore must have taken the route of the “forgotten king”, which was indeed a perfect route along which to flee, seeing few would be using it.

With all of this religious walking going on – and we can also only guess how far the walks in the countryside of Saunière took him when he stayed in Durban – it is no wonder that another man who was familiar with them, Dr. Paul Courrent, also began to make constitutional walks in this region!
Furthermore, we note another aspect that is most important: a doctor visits the ill, at their homes. This not only means that the doctor travels a lot, but also that quite often the medical diagnosis is accompanied by a social setting – much more so then than now. We note, of course, that Courrent was a man who was interested in history. So, in short, we have Courrent, a man who goes from family to family, is trusted by all, who can ask of each family – or at least from those who he knows might be able to help him – certain questions that can further his research – or search. What better information gathering mechanism is there? And we note he not only did this in Embres, but specifically in Rennes-les-Bains and surrounding areas, and even in Perillos, where it is clear that the locals were much in debt to him. Indeed, any Rennes researcher seem to go where Courrent boldly went before. The question is: why is not more attention paid to him?

Interesting details

Let us note that much of the information that Courrent was able to collate, was, following his death, stolen from his own. It is nevertheless clear that some of his material ended up in Durban, as that is where we found his handwritten notebook.
It is then in the public writings of Courrent that we might find further indications as to what he was searching for. For no matter how “straight” one can be in research and however “good” one might be able to mask one’s true obsession, sometimes, the pressure needs to be relieved from the valve and it is then that interesting details float to the surface.
In the chapter “Durban, Villeneuve and its ancient traditions”, Courrent relates his intervention in the typhoid epidemic that hit Perillos. He is the only doctor to have apparently made an effort to tackle this outbreak, or at least there is no reference to any other doctor in the available notes. But let us note that of specific interest is not that no other doctor intervened; what is bizarre is that Courrent is the one who decided to tackle this problem, as Perillos was – at the time of the epidemic – not directly his responsibility or even his sphere of influence. Unless, of course, it secretly was. Let us add that he noted down he was surprised by the speed at which this disease spread, and also that no-one seems to have picked up his observations about this uncharacteristically fast pace. Let us repeat that the epidemic happened roughly at the time when the village of Castelmaure was abandoned, as it had become a refuge for pariahs and contrabands. But pariahs from what and just why were they seen as such?

Offering the site of Castelmaure a second look, we note that if there were any foyers, they were no doubt within the ancient perimeter of the castle, with a small, and no doubt unimportant, hamlet at its foot. Even today, it is clear that beyond the couple of houses that are there, there is – and was – little else. Hence, we are looking at three or four families, plus approximately thirty individuals – at most – that had to be evacuated after the horrible crimes of 1880. It is at that time that there is an administrational co-ordination, and Castelmaure becomes part of Embres – and like Opoul-Perillos a century later, a union of two locations, one abandoned, one not, was made. Though this might all be a coincidence, it is clear that fate does not look kindly towards the communities that are too close to the highest hill of the area – though each village sits on top of a small hill, in a comfortable valley that is able to sustain the community without any problems. Yet they seem prone to be abandoned…

With the last inhabitant gone, one might do as some were prone to do with Perillos: assume that the demise of the village was a clear sign that the village had never had any importance whatsoever. But that situation is obviously not the case for Perillos, who were able to have one of the noblest families of Aragon. The same applies to Castelmaure, or at least a variation on the theme: the castle was obviously important and the site has an important past. But, alas, the absence of any archives today means we can add little to this observation, without succumbing to wild speculation – and hence errors.
For anyone who feels that a personal reconnaissance of the site is in order, let us note that this is entirely possible, but needs to be done with due care and attention, as the walls are unstable and could move at any time. Accidents can happen, and cisterns can collapse.

The shadow of Jacques Colet

The house of Cholet in Verrières

For those unwilling or not daring to climb the hill, there is a pleasant surprise in stall at the foot of Castelmaure. For it is here that one is directly confronted with the name of Jacques Cholet… a man that is straightforwardly linked with the mystery of Rennes-le-Château, and Bérenger Saunière.
The name Cholet is no doubt eternally linked with a famous report, known as the “Cholet report”. This report details the vision and attempted excavation of one Jacques Cholet, who made enquiries to the authorities to perform excavations in Rennes-le-Château – a request that was granted.
Jacques Cholet worked for the R.A.T.P. (Régie Autonome des Transports Parisiens, or Autonomous Transit Operator of Paris), and lived in the Parisian suburbs. As such, he is clearly not a local, but a man well versed in how to get from administrations that what one desires, and this is what he accomplished in Rennes.
After carrying out his excavations, he wrote a report of no more than nine pages, typewritten, plus a certain number of drawings and schemas. Copies of this report are available on certain internet sites, but they are – alas – often overlooked. Indeed, it is a sad fact of Rennes research that the work of the earliest researchers is often forgotten, especially when they do not involve names like Priory of Sion, or imaginative scenarios, or references to Mary Magdalene. Less abstract, more real, research, like the excavations carried out by Cholet, appear to be of little interest to the modern Rennes enthusiast – and, indeed, we would not call him (or her) a Rennes researcher.

But let us note that Cholet is the only person to date who was ever been given authorisation, and was able to carry out, digs in and under the church of Rennes-le-Château. At the time, there were far less legal loopholes to jump through: all that was required was to write to the mayor of Rennes-le-Château – which he did in 1955. And it lasted no less than four years before he received the approval, in 1959. One then had to wait until 1967 until he wrote and circulated his notes about his adventures, even though it has to be said that the report was not too detailed about that part of the work; rather, it was a general “memory” of the mystery.
Let us also note that 1967 is the time when Gérard de Sède published his famous “L’Or de Rennes”, and that it is roughly the timeframe when Plantard and de Cherisey decide to enter the stage and turn Rennes into a national, than international, circus.

A favourable advice… but on which grounds?

Cholet got his approval – to carry out the work – from the religious and prefectorial authorities. As mentioned, this permission allowed him to dig inside and under the church itself. And this is no small feat. As mentioned, since 1967, no-one else has been given this permission and though one might argue the negation is largely because the authorities cannot be seen to support the circus, it is also because such explorations are only ever granted when the seekers have the right credentials – which normally translates as the means – both financially and scientifically – to carry out a proper dig – “comme il faut”. But at first sight, there is nothing to suggest that Cholet had the “right stuff”.

So there is a small enigma, and one that – once again – has not been sufficiently aired. But when we look deeper, we note that the sources who know, state that Cholet was able to convince the authorities to let him dig because he was able to show them certain elements that were present in some of the books and material that had been sold by Saunière… at a moment when the good priest was apparently short of money and needed a cash injection. And this material somehow ended up in the hands of Cholet.
In retrospect, it is impossible to find out how much money Saunière needed and how much he therefore had to sell, but we know that at least two books were in the possession of the person where we were able to recover the writings of Courrent, in Durban.
The sources tell us that these were a number of papers, and that only four are known to have survived. The contents of these few papers nevertheless details that a certain amount of treasure was present under the church of Mary Magdalene in Rennes… Let us note that if all of this information is correct, we can add that whatever it was, was not older than the 14th century, for it was that timeframe when the church of the Virgin Mary was rededicated to Mary Magdalene. Indeed, if, at the time of the transformation of a chapel into a church, the patron saint had not changed – or had been anyone but Mary Magdalene – what headaches and stupidity the world could have been saved. But alas…
Let us note that apart from this, the papers also contain information that was able to convince the authorities, and that the information was therefore of such nature that it allowed Cholet not to err, and go straight for goal; this is no idle speculation for every move Cholet made was monitored by father Rigaud, the priest of Couiza, who seemed not to move one inch from Cholet’s side. “Big Priest” was watching…

“Here the power is hidden”

The typewritten Cholet report starts with a brief overview, occupying the first two pages, of the history of Rennes, at the time of its siege – in the 14th century – which marked the decline of the site as a fortified citadel. There is also a note on how Bigou left because of the French Revolution, as well as the episode of the “Visigothic pillar”, the Marquis de Chambord and the story of the parchments, which he states were three in number. From page 4 onwards, there is an overview of the various possible treasures of the region, such as that of the Visigoths, especially Alaric (A), the depot taken from Montségur at the time of its Fall (B) and the fortune of the Templars (C). But there is also the treasure of Blanche de Castille (D) and Blanche de France, daughter of St Louis (E).
There is nothing too specific about such an overview, but next, Cholet relates how Saunière, having fallen into a “ton of gold pieces”, by night-time, in the cemetery, was nevertheless surprised to be spotted by someone, whom he swore to silence. When the witness died, this man – apparently known to Cholet – confessed that he had been an involuntary witness.

It is therefore clear that Cholet had access to information that few had access to, or which was written about. Perhaps it was even the so-called third parchment, which contained information about Blanche de Castille, whose treasure all the early researchers claimed was the real mystery of Rennes-le-Château?
It is said that this treasure was split in two, and that one half found its way in a subterranean location in Rennes, whereby the access to it was condemned. Nevertheless, it was discovered by one “Dominican Friar de Mirepoix, on June 29, 1249”.
The second part of the report is, without doubt, very clear, as the summary states: “here the power is hidden”. Alas, as clear and precise as Cholet was, it appears that none of the other researchers took his conclusions to heart. They were, no doubt, too precise and too direct, and hence incompatible with the preferred mode of Rennes enthusiasts: baseless and idle speculation.

Two solutions

André Douzet with Jacques Cholet

The eleventh chapter tackles the “tombstones and their inscriptions”, and details the “Coumesourde Stone”, which is nevertheless not named, but shown, and presented as the work of a “runaway” who left behind him certain precise information – for those able to read it. Of course, the tombstone that retains most of Cholet’s attention is the well-known tombstone of Marie de Nègre d’Ables, Marquise d’Hautpoul. He devotes an entire page to the texts on this tombstone, providing hypothetical explanations, whereby the remarkable interpretation of the number eight seems to be a key part of the story.
The twelfth chapter provides several inroads into the mystery which the author explored in the perimeter of the sanctuary: under the staircase of the pulpit is a second one that leads under the cemetery, as well as in the floor of the sacristy, where one can see the beginning of another one, descending, in a southerly direction. It is then that we learn that Cholet could not continue his explorations, because of financial difficulties, but was able to find a sponsor with whom he, several years later, was able to perform a new series of surveys in the nave of the church. He thus found the location of empty tombs, whereby the bones had been transferred to another cavity in the south.
This was followed by a third series of work, underground this time, from the outside of the building, though without success. Cholet then relates several statements that a postman had given to him. He had confided in Cholet that there was indeed an underground complex that connected the castle with the church, but that it was extremely dangerous to venture inside, and that it would be much more simple to launch an exploration from the garden (the grotto?), which might have some success.
The researcher then states that only two possible treasures can be involved: that which is known as the one of the “old temple”, almost intact, and the second that of the Queen Regent. The conclusion, short and sweet, is that it was dangerous to venture into the underground complex, equipped with traps that were still in working order… as was found out by the Catalan mercenaries in 1365, when they were able to lay their hands on the treasure of the first church, that of St Pierre aux Liens, in the centre of Rennes-le-Château.

Nine pages for a report, which does not reveal all

And that is all. The nine pages of this report conclude as dryly as it had begun. Though the document is of great interest – and definitely for the time it was written in – it is equally clear that it appears that Cholet was not overly intrigued by it all and that the entire adventure had indeed been just that: an interest, to get his hands dirty, and see what was what. A matter of interest, fleeting, never a passion or an obsession.
Or is it? Indeed, it is said that one night, when the daily work had been completed, he left the church, and he was meant to receive a beam on his head, which had been placed in a careful equilibrium, so that when he came out, it would hit him over the head – likely killing him. It is even said that the gendarmes opened an enquiry regarding this attempted homicide. The inquest apparently learned that the heavy beam had been held in place by a system of nylon wire! Why? So that the trap could not be seen. Indeed, though that might be the case, we would like to add that the entire trap was placed outside, in open air, and that whereas the tiny wires might not have been visible, surely the big, wooden beam must have caught someone’s attention? And hence we remain somewhat sceptical about this story, as we find it rather bizarre, as well as noting that nylon wire is not a logical manner in which to support a beam.
But the core of the story could be true and certain incorrect details might merely have grown onto it afterwards. So if there was an attempt to murder Cholet, it is clear that this man must have realised something was afoot. And some researchers indeed claim that the entire incident left Cholet visibly shaken, so much so that he had to take time off work, this for a period of no less than four months.

So, if this is all true, then it is equally clear that the nine pages, which form the transcript of his adventures in Saunièreland, do not at all relate the intrigue of surviving an attempt on his life. He does not mention it, not even when he mentions the old traps that are apparently lying in wait for any adventurer underneath the church.
However, let us also note that nowhere does he mention anything about Jesus or Mary Magdalene – the principal “culprits” as to what today the enigma of Rennes-le-Château might all be about.

The tree of Rennes hides the forest

Dr. Paul Courrent

We ask a question: what if this report was a tree that hid a forest? Or a false document – a trap – to push researchers/enthusiasts onto a route where they would be able to cause little or no harm? A silly question? Perhaps, perhaps not. For it is in the region of Durban and Embres that one family has a second “Cholet report”, or, rather, the real report. That report contains a few more elements than the one that is currently being passed around. This report, missing introductions, conclusions and epilogues, is not the same type of writing style than the one in the “public report”. Indeed, when we look at the professional qualities of Cholet, it is clear that a report as the one that is in circulation at present, is far below the standard he would want to adhere to himself. Indeed, Cholet was a highly qualified professional, and it were his qualifications that no doubt helped him secure the right to excavate at Rennes. But, it seems, ten years later, he was able to produce a report that was below par, and unworthy of any archaeological excavation’s report. But few researchers have pointed out that the report was below standard… even less seem to have pondered the possibility that what was circulated was not at all the real Cholet report, but a clever hoax.
But before exploring that possibility, let us note that some of the papers that Cholet was able to recover “somehow” – no doubt by the intervention of the fairies, for, if not, it is a sign of a concerned effort on behalf of more than one man – some documents, which then ended up mixed in with the writings of Courrent… and which were located in Durban… in the hands of another person, from which we were able to collect them.

Durban encounters

So, there is a question mark hanging over all of this. Why is it that the texts of Courrent and Jacques Cholet were preserved in the same location? One person tackles Rennes-les-Bains and Durban, and the other person did archaeological excavations in the church of Rennes-le-Château. Whereas for the former, it is possible that his archives ended up in Durban, for Cholet, it is totally bizarre, for nowhere did he ever mention, or someone else write, that he was interested in the Corbières, or had any affinity with it.
But wait… fortune favours the bizarre sequence of events, as they continue. For example, there is one Jacques Cholet that lives very near Durban… in Castelmaure. We met him, several years ago. He is not the same Cholet as the man who did the excavations, but is related. When we try to engage him on the subject, he ends the conversation by noting that the subject was never spoken about in his family, and will never be spoken about. But, as time went on, slowly, we began to break down this wall and he began to open up, even revealing some insights and family secrets.
Indeed, when scratching the surface – or passing this man in the street – it seems as if he has no interest whatsoever in the story or the enigma. And, on occasion, over a drink, he will still sprout out his standard line, only to realise he is amongst friends and doesn’t need to repeat his usual “leave me alone” clause. Once you know the man, we know he has a great passion for the works of Déodat Roché, Lucienne Julien and Catharism, and by another sheer coincidence, was present when Roger-René Dagobert decided to leave our earthly realm. Noting Dagobert was a keen Rennes enthusiast – and a man who claimed that some of his family archives were linked with those of Courrent – that is another intriguing coincidence? Or not?

The song of father Saunière

Despite a blossoming friendship, Jacques tells us that he cannot reply to questions about, or comment upon, the report itself. Nevertheless, almost as if it were an apology, he provides us with a document that we didn’t expect to receive – especially as this is the man who formerly said he was not at all interested in the story of Rennes and its priest. The document he gives us can best be described as a lament, titled “The priest of Rennes le Château” – noting he does not put hyphens between the name. The contents of this cantilena are surprising, for it is largely about Saunière’s nightlife. Everything is there: Saunière and his maid, his nocturnal expeditions to find “stones”, a magic lantern which seemed to project images of mischief, such as of the demon “grimacing at the entrance of the church”. About the angel of shadows and dreamed secrets with the likes of Arsène Lupin, Templars, Rosicrucians, the treasure of the kings and forgotten or lost mines.
And let us note that the “good loving maid” took care, upon the death of the priest, of the precious gold ingots, hidden in the water in the form of the spoils of Visigothic soldiers. The song finishes with a vision from “up there” to see in a “bursting sun” the forbidden wealth that is the treasure of Rennes.

For someone who pretends not to know, or not to be interested in the story of Rennes and Saunière, the lament, when seen as a resume, is a nice introduction to the enigma. All the essentials points are present, even the magic lantern, about which few if any people speak, apart from the late Jean-Luc Robin, with whom we had a long discussion about this instrument, when we met up so many years ago, at the time when Saunière’s model made its entrance into the enigma of Rennes-le-Château.
So even though Jacques was interested after all, we thought it might merely be an attempt to sharpen his poetic prose. But then one can read the dedication: “to my grandfather, to Dr. Courrent”. First, let us note that dedications normally are done to one person, or a duality that is often seen as one – “my children”, “my parents”, etc. But in this case, it was to his grandfather and Dr. Courrent, whom, we should underline, was resident in nearby Embres late in life – in fact, his tomb is in Embres’ cemetery. But why indeed dedicate this lament to these two people?

A report without a rapport to the report

Let us conclude by presenting, in French, the original “Cholet report”, or, to be clear: that which everyone pretends is the Cholet report. The nine pages were given to us by Antoine Captier in the mid 1990s, and he asked us not to copy or circulate the document. We never did. However, Antoine had the misfortune to also give a copy to someone else, who then immediately went on to publish it. However, when we told these people that what was in circulation was indeed “a” Cholet report, but not “the” real Cholet report, our remark was ignored, for, of course, the report in circulation was precisely up the alley of those who pretend to be researchers. Let us add that the person responsible for this “theft” – at least of confidence – also stole other things, including a map of the graffiti of Bugarach; this time, it was not Antoine, but I, who was the aggrieved party.

At present, we are seeking the authorisation to publish the other version of this report, which, we note, has a far more interesting title than “Rennes-le-Château”, and which is also much more specific, such as providing the name of the sponsor. Let us note that this other report did not come from the same typewriter. And that perhaps the fact that there are two reports in circulation – with, in our opinion, the one that is in circulation being a false report, and the one in our possession – though, we should like to add, not at all “sole possession”, in case certain wild accusations will be (once again) made about us – is the reason why Jacques Cholet does not want to comment on the Cholet report, as it might mean he has to name and shame certain individuals.
Once we have been granted this authorisation to publish, we hope that Rennes enthusiasts will realise that I am a Rennes researcher, and queries the evidence placed in front of me, rather than just swallow that which the crowds get thrown at them. And if I do not get this authorisation… well, then someone else will. Time, of course, is a precious gift, and we note that it took Cholet apparently fifteen years to write his report. What’s another year?

André Douzet
Thanks to Jacques Cholet for providing us with the authorisation to publish the “Song of Father Saunière” and to P.C. for the photograph of the family home of Jacques Cholet in Verrières. All material copyrighted.