The murder of abbé Gélis

 

“Murder! Murder!”

The murder of abbé Gélis, resident priest of the village of Coustaussa, who also said mass for the people of Cassaignes, is well-known in the mystery of Rennes-le-Château. It is an often included event, mainly for the simple reason that he was a priest from across the road – literally – from Saunière and hence “could” have been part of the mystery.

Gélis lived for 40 years in the village of Coustaussa; he never built or wrote anything, unlike his two more notorious colleagues, Saunière and Boudet; only one book, “Le Secret de l’abbé Gélis. La piste Corse.”, by J. Rivière, G. Tappa and C. Boumendil, written in 1996, has tackled his murder investigation, without coming to any firm conclusions.

The authors hint at a connection with Corsica, but beyond that, they are unable to argue their case. Still, they were not the first or alone that were unable to explain the mystery of Gélis’ death, in the night of October 31 to November 1, 1897. As the door of the presbytery was always closed and he only let people he knew into the house, it seemed clear that Gélis’ assassin was known to him. As nothing seemed to be stolen – if anything, money inside the house had apparently been left undisturbed – the possibility of a burglary gone wrong equally seemed unlikely.
The police, it is clear, were faced with an enigmatic murder. Nothing seemed to have been stolen. The priest seemed to have known his assailant. The police therefore used the good old common logic that the assassin must have been someone from Gélis’ immediate family, and that the reason was no doubt mundane, like an exchange of words that had gotten out of hand. Still, family and his immediate circle told the inspectors that on occasion, Gélis did have visitors, whom were unknown to them, but which Gélis never introduced. It showed that Gélis had a circle of friends or acquaintances with whom his family had no contact – which in itself is nothing out of the ordinary. It seems that the police never tried to find out who they were – which is indicative of the lazy attitude of the police in their investigation.

Of course, in 1897, the police were unaware – we should assume – of any sinister dealings going on across the road in Rennes-le-Château. Even if this “merely” involved the trafficking in masses, for Saunière, who seemed to “need” money to surround himself with nice things unlike the more Spartan conditions that Gélis seemed to favour, it would have been sufficient reason for murder. Furthermore, as we now know that Gélis sponsored Saunière, we should equally ask whether Saunière may have lost his temper, when asking for more money, not getting it. Nevertheless, we do not assume that Saunière was the assassin – though of course he may have known something. Another possibility is that Saunière, following Gélis’ death, may have begun his own investigation…

The main suspect

The presbytery on the immediate right, with the church of Coustaussa on the far left.

It is customary these days for the police to look at who attends the funeral of a murder. It seems the same logic applied a century ago, in which case, the police would have seen the presence of Saunière and Boudet. But the police were more interested in someone who wasn’t there… and perhaps should have been.
For the police, the main suspect was Joseph Pagés, a family member of Gélis. Pagés argued that on the evening of the murder, while returning late from visiting his seriously ill wife, he knocked on Gélis’ door, but that the priest did not open. He did see light inside, but assumed that Gélis was somehow unable to come to the door. He would try again later, but in the end did not get around to doing this. Pagés claimed that while walking down the street, he spoke to a villager, but upon confrontation with that man, he denied seeing Pagés that evening.
It is quite unlikely that Pagés murdered Gélis. Even though the police eventually arrested him, once he appeared in front of a judge, the accusation was thrown out of court. As such, it was one of those situations, wherein the police had shown they had “a suspect”, but could always blame it on the judge that the case never came to trial. It also meant that the police were now no longer focussing on this crime, having “exhausted” their best lead. So let us take up, where the police left off.

Pagés did not like Gélis, but there is a difference between not liking a family member and killing him. Furthermore, Pagés’ wife had just fallen seriously ill and could die at any time. We can only assume he loved his wife, and would he want to tell her of Gélis’ death, a brother she apparently loved dearly? In the end, of course, he had to do just that. Also, a detail on the murder scene does suggest Pagés may have knocked on the door when the murder was in progress.
Gélis was hit no less than 13 times, resulting in enormous blood-loss. Gélis was murdered in the kitchen area, yet blood was also found upstairs, in his bedroom. It could be that when Pagés knocked on the door, the murderer went upstairs, to see who was knocking; this could explain the blood on the window sill.

Enquiries

Some of the details found on the crime scene have since taken on a life of their own. There is the famous Tzar cigarette paper. The police, in their enquiries, could not find any outlet that sold these in the immediate or extended region. For the 1996 book on the murder, the authors learned that the brand did exist, that it was made in Paris, but most of it was destined for export, to countries like Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, Belgium and Austria-Hungary.
Gélis was anti-smoking and apparently never indulged anyone smoking inside the house. It tied the cigarettes to the murderer – and makes Pagés an unlikely killer. The murderer, it seems, would either be Parisian, a foreigner, or a person recently having travelled to any of those countries, and still having those cigarette papers on him.

The most intriguing find was a note, on which was (badly) written “Viva Angelina”. The police made enquiries whether any “Angelina” – believed to be a woman – was known, and for some reason also made enquiries in the brothels of the nearby towns. How does this note need to be read? “Gélis is dead; long live Angelina.” ? If he was going to talk, then the “long live Angelina” would have been a rallying cry of the assassin, telling others who would be thinking of talking, or of shedding light on the crime, to keep their mouth shut: “Angelina is alive, as you can see from the corpse of Gélis – whom we murdered.”

Circumstantial evidence

What is less known is that at the time when Gélis was murdered, he was about to retire. It is remarkable “coincidence” that he had a house at his disposal from November 1 onwards and the fact that he was murdered on the previous evening.
On September 24, 1897, during a retreat in Carcassonne, he had asked his cousin (and fellow priest) Maurice Malot to find him a house, showing that he wanted to spend the last years – or at least the next few – in rented accommodation, close to his cousin.
On October 24, his cousin sent him a letter, informing him that the house was rented in Grèzes, the suburb of Carcassonne where he himself was priest, and that Gélis could move in on November 1. Even though Gélis would apparently not move out on November 1 (he was scheduled to say masses in Cassaignes and Coustaussa that day, as November 1 was All Saints), others may not have thought that October 31 would be his final night in Coustaussa – and if they needed to see him, it was their last chance to find him there.

While he was on his retreat in Carcassonne, he also spoke of “his treasure”. He also worked on a map of “his treasure”. The map was found in his personnel papers, attached to his invoice wager of 1897. His family, including Maurice Malot, stated that his uncle often told him he would leave him “something”, though it was never mentioned what the “something” was, or when he would receive this – whether it would be by testament or before his death, was not clear. Of course, we can only take Malot’s word for this; for all we know, he was perfectly aware of what he would receive, but did not want to mention this to the police. We note that on November 24, Malot was allowed to empty Gélis’ house, thus becoming the legal owner of anything Gélis may have wanted him to have anyway – and something that may have been important. Then again, the “something” Gélis was going to give him may merely have been money or shares, as Gélis was known to invest.

Earlier threats ?

In his statement to the police on July 7, 1898, Pagés stated that Gélis “in 1881 had believed himself to be the victim of a murder attempt”. Pagés stated that he felt the murderers could have been the people whom threatened Gélis in 1881. Pagés could merely have tried to shift the blame away from him, but if he was telling the truth, then it could suggest Gélis knew something that could cost him his life. Perhaps, in 1897, he thought he was finally save – it may be that was not the case.
It does provide a “what if” scenario: if Gélis was threatened in 1881, obviously something was happening at that time. In late 1897, close to his retirement, Gélis gives cryptic references to a “treasure”. The day before he retires, he is murdered. An enigmatic note is left on the crime of the scene, which the police are unable to explain, but whose existence is made public. Is it a warning to others that they – unlike Gélis – better keep their mouth shut?

The wider framework

The tomb of Gélis, with Rennes-le-Château in the background.

Does Gélis fit in the wider framework of the mystery of Rennes-le-Château? We note that both Boudet and Gélis were priests of Durban. In the case of Gélis, he held the position there in the 1850s. We note that Gélis thus was also the priest of Perillos. Furthermore, André Douzet has heard personal testimony that Gélis wanted to buy or rent a house in Opoul, a venture which apparently never occurred. Finally, we know that Saunière himself came to visit a family in Durban, which means all of these priests have at least one thing in common – a fascination with this town; which is important, as there is no obvious connection between Gélis and Rennes-le-Château.
The authors of the 1996 book argue that Gélis’ secret was “ancient” and not “recent”; that it predated Saunière, which is what the standard theories normally suggest: these argue that Saunière somehow found an item in 1891, which then began the entire series of events. The authors do not believe this.
We know that Gélis and Boudet were members of the AA, a highly secretive organisations of priests; Saunière was not. Were Gélis and Boudet people who had obtained certain privileged information, and was Saunière trying to find out what it was? Or did they share this information with him?

We note that the evidence we have at hand shows that afterwards, Saunière apparently begins to visit Lyon. It is, of course, possible, that Saunière visited Lyon before 1897, but there is no evidence in the public record that shows this possibility, and it is best to build speculation upon the available evidence, not on logic alone.
We can thus – at the moment – only ask whether Saunière did see the murder of Gélis is a pivotal turning point, which set him in the direction of Lyon… where we know he would make certain inroads that would eventually lead to the creation of a model of a landscape of Perillos, which was the diocese Gélis had served half a decade before his intriguing assassination would occur.

Filip Coppens