The Habsburg Dynasty

 

The financier

The Count de Chambord

In Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge (2001), the role of “The Duke” is vital, as he is the one who is financing the entire refurbishment of the Moulin Rouge. Indeed, the “real” Moulin Rouge too fell for the then new fashion of installing electricity, which came at a tremendous cost.
In the movie, the Duke is not necessarily a nice individual, but with money comes power. And the story has some relevance to the enigma of Rennes-le-Château. In the story of Saunière, the question whether he was paid – i.e. worked for someone – or was an “einzelgänger” is seldom tackled. In the latter scenario, Saunière can be seen as an extravagant character, which in the eyes of the sceptics, had found a means of making lots of money “bribing” people out of their savings in return for masses. If Saunière however was working for someone, then almost immediately, the enigma of Rennes-le-Château becomes a conspiracy – and looses much of the charm that people have attached to the “billionaire priest”.

First money

We know that Saunière was given money by Marie-Thérèse of Austria, countess of Chambord, and widow of the Count de Chambord, last claimant to the throne of France, who had died in 1883. She gave Saunière no less than 3000 French francs – roughly 45,000 Euros in today’s currency.
Officially, or at least in the standard account of this donation, the money was so that Saunière could restore the church. And the countess had a legitimate reason why she wanted to give that money, not so much to Saunière, but to Rennes-le-Château. For one, Francois d’Hautpoul, preceptor of the Count de Chambord, had a strong family link with Rennes-le-Château – his family vault sitting underneath the village. To see the church become derelict might have made her decision to open up her purse. Furthermore, and on a more personal level, it is known that the Marquis de Chefdebien, where Bérenger’s brother Alfred worked for, was also close to the Count de Chambord – even assisting in his funeral. It means that the circle in which Saunière found himself while “in exile” in Narbonne in 1886 had powerful – or, rather, wealthy – connections.

Today, “restoration work” is paramount in archaeology, but it is known that a lot of “restoration” often involves fortuitous discoveries. Such approaches are nothing new and patrons like de Chambords must have been well-versed in centuries of plausible deniability. And hence, rather than an innocent donation, the 45,000 Euros may have been a first payment – for Saunière to commence work. But for what? The standard explanation is often that it was so that he could search for “something” hidden in, or under, the church. But there is the possibility that Saunière was simply paid a substantial sum of money and that Saunière merely decided to spend the money on the restoration of his church. However, judging how Saunière went to work, makes the latter possibility less likely.

“A monarchist”

The Countess de Chambord

It is often said that Saunière was a monarchist and hence that he somehow identified with the monarchist cause. Be that as it may, what is often left out, is that by 1885, when Saunière arrived in Rennes-le-Château, the “monarchist cause” in France was in smithereens.
The Count de Chambord, also known as Henri V of France and Navarre (Henri Charles Ferdinand Marie Dieudonné d’Artois de France, had been “king of France and Navarre” for seven days – from August 2 to 9, 1830. Since, he remained a pretender to the throne, until his death on August 24, 1883.
What is seldom highlighted is that the monarchist cause largely died with him. Though it is known that his widow gave money to Saunière, what is seldom if ever mentioned, is that the couple had no children. Hence, who became the new pretender to the throne wasn’t obvious – and in the end, hotly disputed. From a socio-political perspective, the fact that there were no children and there was dispute, largely killed all chances for the “monarchist cause”.

The Countess de Chambord and some of her husband’s supporters accepted the senior male of the House of Bourbon, Henri’s distant cousin and brother-in-law, Juan, Count of Montizón, as his heir. But others transferred their allegiance to the Orléanist claimant, Philippe, the Comte de Paris. “Don Juan”, or “Jean III, King of France and Navarre”, issued a declaration saying, “Having become Head of the House of Bourbon by the death of my brother-in-law and cousin, the Comte de Chambord, I declare that I do not in any way renounce the rights to the throne of France which I have held since my birth”. But other than this declaration, he made no active claim to the French throne. He died on November 21, 1887, at his home in the English town of Hove. Juan’s death meant that the Count of Paris was now largely the only remaining possible pretender to the throne, and labelled “Philip VII of France”. He too lived in the UK, in Sheen House in Surrey, and died in Stowe House in 1894. Hence, with the Count’s death in 1883, it was largely game over – by 1894, it was definitely the case.

End of era

Johann Salvator

By 1894, any link between the Chambords and/or pretenders to the throne of France and Saunière had thus literally died out. The countess herself died shortly after providing Saunière with a donation and before Saunière could show off the work he had carried out.
It would suggest that with her death, it would be the end of an era, and that the family would no longer take any interest in Rennes-le-Château – if only because there was no-one left to take an active interest. Even if Saunière was paid to perform certain tasks for the family, the paymasters had died, apparently, and no further cheques were going to arrive.

But history shows us wrong. Johann Salvator was of the House of Habsburg, related to the Austrian-Hungarian Emperor, and was – perhaps most importantly – a nephew to the Countess de Chambord. In 1889, he distanced himself from his family, changing his name to Johann Orth.
Remarkably, between November 1889 and February 1890, Orth visited Rennes-le-Château – and met specifically with Saunière. This is intriguing, for though it appears as if Orth was no longer interested in his family, the person whom he seeks out – before setting out on a life of adventure – is someone who just happened to have received a substantial sum of money from his aunt, four years earlier. Was he merely trying to find out whether Saunière had carried out the restorations? It seems most unlikely that he was so concerned about a donation that had occurred four years previously and about which he normally should not have known, or cared. Instead, a more logical scenario suggests that the former nobleman came to check out, or up, on what Saunière was doing – or some other scenario that involves Saunière and his aunt, the Countess de Chambord.

Confirmation

The visit of Orth might seem to be the type of speculation that is heaped on the mystery, but it is actually one of the best substantiated aspects of it. In “Histoire du Trésor de Rennes-le-Château”, Pierre Jarnac reports that Orth’s visit was recorded by the gendarmes of Couiza. Jean Markale adds that a copy of the report was sent to the French Secret Service, who had been tipped off by doctor Espézel of Espéraza. Remarkably, it appears that the doctor had been asked by the local authorities to keep an eye on Saunière and inform them of any suspicious goings-on. Why? The standard biography of Saunière reveals that his only misdemeanour by 1890 was Saunière’s preaching against the Republic from the pulpit, but to guarantee this would no longer occur, a doctor from a neighbour town was not required to keep an eye on him – and would definitely not require that doctor liaising with the French Secret Service! Instead, the likely scenario seems to be that the authorities were keeping an eye on Saunière for some unknown reason and that the nearest person – or perhaps best qualified person, but for unknown reasons – they had available was doctor Espézel.

As a result of the tip-off, Orth was questioned and came up with one of those extra-ordinary excuses that have the clear distinction of being an obvious lie, but which puts the burden to prove otherwise upon the gendarmes.
Orth claimed that he got lost – while travelling from Italy to Spain – arriving in Couiza, from where he somehow had the luminous idea to travel up the hill to Rennes-le-Château, where he just happened to find Saunière. Indeed, let’s hope Saunière was able to point him in the general direction, for to end up in Couiza when trying to get from Italy to Spain is truly remarkable. A map might have showed him that the proper route was along the Mediterranean coastline, sticking close to it, like Narbonne, Perpignan, and onwards into Spain. As the coastline is still visible near Narbonne, it seems Orth only realised he was “lost” once he was near Carcassonne, then decided to travel south to Couiza, and, indeed, he could have continued further south, to Quillan, Foix, and cross the Pyrenees there, eventually arriving in Spain. But that he “coincidentally” climbed towards Rennes-le-Château… well, no-one seemed to believe that story. If he was truly lost in Couiza, Orth could have stopped at the local gendarmes and ask where Spain was. They might have been able to give him better directions than the villagers of Rennes-le-Château.

Another pseudonym

The incident is of further interest, as during questioning, we learn he is actually travelling under a pseudonym: Monsieur Guillaumes. The likely reason why he changed his name is noted down in the interview: he was looking for a safe haven, as he felt that the Habsburgs were about to be ousted from Austria. Here, we therefore need to posit a possibility that no-one has ever apparently had the mental agility to come up with: did Orth – and the Habsburgs – perhaps want to retire to Rennes-le-Château and did he visit Saunière as part of these plans? If so, it puts the donations by the Habsburgs and the building works of Saunière in a totally different perspective: he was building on behalf of the Habsburgs, creating a safe haven where they could reside if things were to go wrong in Austria.
As possible as it may be, let us nevertheless note that what Saunière was building, may nevertheless have been below what the Habsburgs would have desired. But in times of need, it might have had to suffice. Furthermore, we note that Orth had broken all links with his family, so why did he care about their fate? In fact, the police seemed not to have been up to date with the latest political intrigues in the Austrian imperial household (we can’t really blame them for that), but if they had been, the excuse given by Orth was clearly at odds with his official biography, which was that he no longer cared about his family at all.

Perpignan

That is not all. Though Orth was able to get lost, it seems he perfectly knew his way around the area during previous visits to the region. Remarkably, Orth had a bank account at the Bank Veuve Auriol et Fils in Perpignan. It is, coincidentally, also a bank where Saunière had a bank account. And according to Gérard de Sède, they even had consecutive account numbers, indicating they had opened the accounts together. Some authors have even alleged that Orth had transferred substantial sums to Saunière on that account. And we do know that Saunière spent, occasionally, some time in Perpignan – even the hotel where he stayed in, is known.

The scenario of Orth giving money to Saunière, though as far as we can tell not supported by factual evidence, seems likely, for it is clear that Orth’s voyage to Rennes-le-Château was on purpose, but that it had a purpose he did not want to inform the gendarmes about. Furthermore, the fact that both men had a bank account in the same branch suggests that Orth and Saunière had a type of financial arrangement that was of a repetitive nature; you do not open bank accounts for a single transaction.
Indeed, much later, the entire incident resulted in the diocese of Carcassonne having to release an official statement, which stated that Orth and Saunière planned to build a retirement home for priests and that Orth apparently was helping to finance this. Or a retirement home for the Habsburg kings?

A mysterious disappearance

Emperor Franz Joseph

Either way, the evidence and indications so far suggest that Orth – following in the footsteps of his aunt – continued to finance Saunière. Knowing what we know about Orth, a likely scenario is that the Countess had given a substantial sum of money in 1886. By 1890, Orth knows he is leaving Europe, but before doing so, has to make arrangements with Saunière, and no doubt tell him of his plans, that even though he is going to travel, payments will continue to be made, as usual.

Indeed, the entire Orth incident and how he abandoned the Habsburgs is not without intrigue. Orth renouncing his royal title is newspeak for a somewhat more complex scenario: Orth was, amongst many other things, an author, had radical ideas he was willing to express in public and in print, so much so that he upset his fellow royals. So much so that Emperor Franz-Joseph had to officially intervene, and as a result of these repercussions and problems in his love life (a girlfriend cried her heart out that he was not a poor student, but instead a prince of royal blood, wishing he was not a royal), he did indeed break ranks with court life: wanting to marry her, he resigned from the army, abandoned the titles of “Archduke of Austria,” “Prince of Hungary,” “Grand Ducal Prince of Tuscany” and “Knight of the Golden Fleece” and converted large parts of his estate into cash, and abandoned the realm.
The scenario still begs the question why he went to Rennes-le-Château, for his destination seems to have been London, to charter a boat that would sail him across the oceans, to new horizons and a new life.
However, the ship he chartered seemed to rather aimlessly sail around the Southern American coasts. On July 13, 1890, she left Buenos Aires ostensibly to sail around the Horn and back to Valparaiso, but was never definitely heard of again. As in all of these cases, there were several stories of alleged sightings, but be that as it may, it is clear that even if it was all set in scene, it was largely because Orth wanted to disappear. The alternative is that he indeed met an unfortunate death. Orth was declared legally dead on May 6, 1911, but, remarkably, from 1890 and even after his legal death, the Emperor made sure that money was being set aside in case Orth would still be alive. It means that in principle, between 1890 and at least 1911, normal money transfers could be made from Orth’s to Saunière’s bank account.

More bank accounts

It is not the only time that we see bank accounts linking Saunière with the realm of the Habsburg. Jean-Luc Robin reported how amongst Saunière’s possession were various documents from the bank Fritz Dörge in Budapest, including printed envelopes which means that Saunière regularly sent “something” to the bank. Though the bank stopped trading before further enquiries could be made, the nature of the find suggests that Saunière had regular correspondence with the bank, and that he either sent or received money from that bank. Noting that the Habsburgs had a monetary influence on Saunière’s life previously, and that Budapest was firmly within their homeland, again, they should be the most likely “suspects” as to why Saunière had a link with this bank.

Recent interest

Long after Saunière’s era, in 1975, Archduke Rudolph of Habsburg visited Rennes-le-Château. No doubt, he too pretended to be a tourist. But when speaking to some of the locals, they came away from the chance encounter noting that the duke was very knowledgeable about the mystery. From Rennes, he went to Carcassonne, where he spoke to Monsignor Georges Boyer, the Vicar General of Carcassonne, and priest Maurice-René Mazières, priests that were well-versed in the enigma. Did the duke know, or suspect, that there was a link between the enigma and his family? He definitely took a more than usual interest.

The heir is assassinated – the Emperor is dead

Franz Ferdinand

Missing from most discussions about Rennes-le-Château and the Habsburg are references to the Emperor himself: Franz Joseph I, Emperor of Austria, Apostolic King of Hungary, and King of Bohemia from 1848 until November 21, 1916. His 68-year reign is the second-longest in the recorded history of Europe and spanned the entire period of Saunière’s life – except the final few months.

It was his succession that was at the core of World War I. Franz Ferdinand was heir to the Austrian throne, at one point “only” third in line, but through two untimely deaths – that of the Emperor’s son, Crown Prince Rudolph, who killed himself (and his sixteen year old mistress) in 1889 and the death of his father, Archduke Charles Louis, in 1896 – Franz Ferdinand would succeed Franz Joseph whenever he would die.
However, the Archduke and his wife Sophie were assassinated in Sarajevo on June 28, 1914 (their fourteenth wedding anniversary) by Serbian nationalist Gavrilo Princip. The assassination is historically known as the direct reason why World War I broke out. Hence, the assassination definitely changed history.

“Viva Angelina”?

At present, it is clear that we are faced with a complex puzzle, in which some of the pieces are simply missing, so that the entire image does not materialise in front of our eyes. It is clear that some pieces of the puzzle need to be introduced, and as a farewell to this article, we will introduce one piece, which is perhaps not part of this puzzle, but is known to be part of another puzzle of Rennes-le-Château. That piece is the known assassination of Antoine Gélis in Coustaussa and a note that was found next to him and which was known to be left there by the assassin(s). The police were unable to shed any light on the note, apart from eliminate most of the mundane explanations. As previously noted, the only “Angelina” in this story is a Serbian saint, Angelina, whose relics are kept in a monastery outside of Belgrade.
Let us therefore wildly speculate and argue that someone who kills someone and claims “Viva Angelina” could be a Serbian assassin, who expresses his devotion to his saint: “Long Live Angelina!” And let us note that Franz Ferdinand’s assassin was also Serbian. Conspiratorial thinking? For sure, but then it is known that the murder of Franz Ferdinand was not a “lone gunman”, but part of a Serbian plot. The question then is: how big, or small, was the conspiracy.

Filip Coppens
In memory of Jean-Luc Robin